young children with sufficient employment. What we call a love of mischief, is in fact nothing but activity. Children are restless for employment; they must have something to do; and if they are not furnished with what is useful or innocent, they will do mischief. No one who has not lived with a family of children can conceive how very difficult it is to keep a child of five or six years old employed. It is a good plan to teach little girls to knit, weave bobbin, watchguards, &c. Making patchwork is likewise a quiet amusement; and if the child be taught to fit it herself, it may be made really useful. If the corners are not fitted exactly, or the sewing done neatly, it should be taken to pieces and fitted again; for it is by inattention to these little things that habits of carelessness are formed. On no occasion whatever should a child be excused from finishing what she has begun. The custom of having half a dozen things on hand at once should not be tolerated. It ought to be considered a disgrace to give up any thing, after it is once undertaken. Habits of perseverance are of incalculable importance; and a parent should earnestly improve the most trifling opportunities of encouraging them. Even in so small a thing as untying a knot, a boy should be taught to think it unmanly to be either impatient or discouraged.

Always encourage a girl in fitting her own work, and arranging her own playthings. Few things are more valuable in this changing world, than the power of taking care of ourselves. It is a useful thing for children to make a little shirt exactly after the model of a large one, fitting all the parts themselves, after you have furnished them with a model of each part in paper. Knitting may be learned still earlier than sewing. It is a great resource to the aged; and women, in all situations of life, have so many lonely hours, that they cannot provide themselves with too many resources in youth. For this reason I would indulge girls in learning any thing that did not interfere with their duties; such as ornamental work, boxes, baskets, purses, &c. Every new acquirement, however trifling, is an additional resource against poverty and depression of spirits.

My grand-mother used to say, "Lay by all scraps and fragments, and they will be sure to come into use in seven years." I would make the same remark with regard to scraps and fragments of knowledge. It is impossible for us to foresee in youth, what will be the circumstances of our after-life: the kind of information which at one period seems likely to be of very little use to us, may become very important. If I happened to be thrown into the society of those who excelled in any particular branch, I would gain all the information I could, without being obtrusive. No matter whether it be as to poetry or puddings, making shoes or learning music,-riding a horse or rearing a grape vine; it is well to learn whatever comes in one's way, provided it does not interfere with the discharge of duty.-Mrs. Child.

ON EDUCATION.

MRS. S. In order to explain your method of education to me more clearly, may I ask you to send for one of your children? I shall then have a practical illustration of your mode of teaching.

Mrs. E. With pleasure; you shall see my youngest boy directly. I will bring him.

Mrs. E. soon returned, bringing little Edward, who was about three years old.

Now, Edward, said she, run and fetch mamma your stool. Show me what you can do with it?

ED. I can set it down, mamma, and lift it up.

Mrs. E. So you can! Do something more with it. ED. Look, mamma, I can push it away, and then pull it back again.

Mrs. E. And can you do any thing else with it?
ED. O yes, drag it after me, and turn it over.

Mrs. E. Well done, Edward; now think of something more to do with it.

ED. May I throw it, mamma?

Mrs. E. No, Edward, something more gentle than throwing.

ED. Oh! see how it goes along the floor.

Mrs. E. What do you call that?

ED. I don't know.

Mrs. E. Sliding it, my dear; what are you doing with it now?

ED. Carrying it in my right hand? I will carry it in my left, and then in both hands.

Mrs. E. Can you put it nowhere else but in your hands, Edward?

ED. Yes; I can carry it, like the milk-woman, on my head; and I can put it under my feet.

Mrs. E. Can you place it in any other way than it is now?

ED. I will try. I can turn it on its side, and on its end. Mrs. E. How are you holding it now, my dear? ED. Sloping. And now I am putting it against your chair, mamma.

Mrs. E. That is called leaning it.

Mrs. S. I admire this lesson exceedingly.

Mrs. E. You see that the child has comprehended the meaning of the terms, by his having performed the actions they express; and though he knows nothing of the name of " an active verb," yet he knows the thing, which is far more important.

Mrs. S. Would it not have been as well if you had told him to lift the stool, or do any thing else with it?

Mrs. E. By no means;-I should merely then have made him go through a set of exercises; but in asking him what can you do with it? I have called forth reflection. A child quickly acquires language for himself in the daily intercourse of life; but if, after he has performed an action, he wants words by which to express it, you may then give them to him.

Mrs. S. I understand the distinction, and feel the force of it. But how would you proceed in making him acquainted with the other parts of speech?

Mrs. E. Not very systematically, perhaps; but shall we try the prepositions, without telling him that long word, which has frightened so many children?

Mrs. S. Pray do.

Mrs. E. Now, Edward, jump up, and bring your stool Where are you holding it?

to me.

ED. Between my hands, mamma.

Mrs. E. Put your hands somewhere else, and tell me where they are.

ED. They are over it now.

Mrs. E. Change their place again, and tell me where they are.

ED. Under it, mamma.

Mrs. E. Can you put them in

any other way, my dear? ED. Yes, both behind it, and before it.

Mrs. E. And where are they now, Edward?

ED. Near it, mamma; and now they are far from it. Mrs. E. Right, my dear; that will do.

Mrs. S. Your plan of teaching grammar makes that an amusement which is generally the most irksome occupation.

Mrs. E. Yes, I find that it does so; I need scarcely point out to you how easily you may teach the adverbs in the same mode, by connecting them with an action done quickly, slowly, gently, suddenly, violently, and so on. Aids to Development.

WHAT IS THAT, MOTHER? /

WHAT is that, mother?—

The lark, my child.

The morn has but just looked out, and smiled,
When he starts from his humble, grassy nest,
And is up and away, with the dew on his breast,
And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere,
To warble it out in his Maker's ear.

Ever, my child, be thy morn's first lays

Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise.

What is that, mother?

The dove, my son.

And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan,
Is flowing out from her gentle breast,
Constant and pure by that lonely nest,
As the wave is poured from some crystal urn,
For her distant dear one's quick return.

Ever, my son, be thou like the dove,

In friendship as faithful, as constant in love

What is that, mother?

The eagle, boy

Proudly careering his course of joy,

Firm, in his own mountain vigour relying,
Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt defying;
His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun,
He swerves not a hair, but bears onward, right on.
Boy, may the eagle's flight ever be thine,
Onward, and upward, true to the line.

What is that, mother?—

The swan, my love.-
He is floating down from his native grove;
No loved one now, no nestling nigh;

He is floating down by himself to die;

Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings,
Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings.

Live so, my love, that when Death shall come,
Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home.

THE BODILY SENSES.

Doane.

FEW people think that the management of very young babes has any thing to do with their future dispositions and characters; yet I believe it has more influence than can easily be calculated.

An infant is, for a while, totally ignorant of the use of the senses with which he is endowed. He is obliged to serve an apprenticeship to the five senses, and at every step he needs assistance in learning his trade.

In trying to excite an infant's attention, care should be taken not to confuse and distract him. His mind, like his body, is weak, and requires to have but little sustenance at a time, and to have it often. Gentleness, patience, and love, are almost every thing in education; especially to those helpless little creatures, who have just entered into a world where every thing is new to them.

All loud noises and violent emotions should be avoided. They pain an infant's senses, and distract his faculties. I have seen impatient nurses thrust a glaring candle before the eyes of a fretful babe, or drum violently on the table, or rock the cradle like an earthquake. These things may