use some form of ablution much more frequently than they do, they would be purer, more comfortable, and healthier than they are.

The clothing of infants should be soft, fitted to absorb moisture from the skin and retain the natural warmth of the body, and so fashioned as to be loose and free. The tight bandaging of children, and every other form of pres-sure made by their clothing, is pernicious. Health has been injured and life destroyed by it. This is true, more especially, of undue pressure on the abdomen or chestthe parts on which it is most frequently made.

The temperature of a nursery ought to be comfortable. It should neither be chill with cold nor flush with heat. To the tenderness and susceptibility of infancy all extremes are hurtful. Means to prevent the apartment from being traversed by currents of cold or damp air should be provided, and nothing neglected that may tend to secure an equable temperature.

The respiration of infants is of great importance, and cannot be too vigilantly attended to. The air breathed by them should be fresh and pure. Let nurseries, therefore, be spacious, clean, and thoroughly ventilated. Nor is it unimportant that they be well lighted. The influence of light on animal life is not sufficiently appreciated. Darkness, long continued, is scarcely less pernicious to tender animals (and children are such) than to plants. Not only the complexion, but the blood itself, which is the source of complexion loses much of its florid hue in miners, criminals confined in dark dungeons, and other persons long secluded from the light. During suitable weather, infants should pass several hours daily in the open air.

The muscular exercise of children should be regulated with more judgment and care than is usually bestowed on it. Crawling is their first mode of progression. In this they should be encouraged, and induced to practise it freely. Nurses and parents, especially young parents are generally too anxious to see their infants beginning to walk, or rather to totter along in a form of movement that can hardly be called walking. Hence they induce them to make premature efforts to that effect. The evils likely to arise, and which often do arise, from this practice, are plain. Owing to the immaturity and flexibility of their bones, and the feebleness of their muscles, the legs are

frequently bent and misshapen by it; and the children, falling, injure their heads or other parts of their bodies. The precise age at which children may begin to walk with safety cannot be settled by any general rule. But none should be allowed to walk until the firmness and strength of their limbs are sufficient to sustain, without distortion or injury, the weight of their bodies.

The passions of children, if indulged, are growing evils. Hence they should be vigilantly held in check from the earliest period.. If, instead of being curbed, they are fed and fostered, they become the ruling elements of character, and insure to the individual a life of trouble-not to say of accident, disease, and suffering. A large proportion of the evils of life, as respects both health and fortune, is the product, more or less directly, of unruly passions. In a special manner, children should never be allowed to obtain what has once been denied them, by breaking into a passion about it. Such an act ought to be always visited by a positive privation of the thing desired; and the ground of the denial should be made known to them. Never let a child have reason to believe that a gust of passion is a suitable means to gratify a wish. Teach him, as far as possible, to know and feel the reverse: and should he become offended at a pet or plaything, neither beat it yourself, nor allow him to beat it, by way of pacification or revenge. Such a mode of procedure is aliment to vindictiveness, and leads to mischief-perhaps, in the end, to murder. As relates to matters of this kind, ignorant and passionate nurses are among the worst of family nuisances. They often blow into a flame the sparks of passion, which, without their aid, would have slumbered and gone out. A fiery education in the nursery may heat the brain to the verge of inflammation, and aid in the production of actual inflammation or madness, impair health in sundry other ways by excessive excitement, render unhappy the days of others, as well as the mismanaged individual, and lay the foundation of a blasted reputation.

But it is not the temper alone that is injured by a nursery-education unskilfully conducted. Habits of deception, falsehood, and even theft, are not unfrequently encouraged and formed by it. This can scarcely fail to lead to serious mischief; it being the natural course of things, that seeds sown in infancy yield fruit in maturer years. The slightest

disposition, therefore, in children to deviate from truth or candour, either in words or actions, or to appropriate as their own what does not belong to them, should be promptly suppressed. The regulation of the nursery, though too generally intrusted to ignorance and thoughtlessness, is a charge of great importance. Too often are those who are fit for little else converted into nursery girls. It may be safely asserted, that the charge of the nursery is frequently given to those who would not be trusted with the care of the sheepfold.-Dr. Caldwell.

THE NURSEMAID.

I WAS young when I first went to service, 'tis true,
And, like other young people, but little I knew;
But my parents thus charged me" Be just and upright,
And still keep the fear of your Maker in sight;
And mind, too, whatever your mistress may say,
You attend, recollect, and exactly obey;

Keeping close to your orders you can't well displease,
And experience and knowledge will grow by degrees;
But don't be conceited, or forward, or vain,

Or you'll never true wisdom and goodness attain."
Their sober advice I've endeavoured to mind,
And its truth and importance still daily I find.

At first, my good mistress again and again,

Would with patience her maxims and motives explain, 'Till at length to her habits quite thoroughly grown, She is never afraid to trust me alone.

If by illness confined, or gone out for the air,
She knows all goes on just as if she was there.
As she passes the nursery, and takes a kind peep
At the children, at meal-times, at play, or asleep;
With pleasure her voice or her footsteps I hear,
For I've nothing to hide, and I've nothing to fear.
My mistress's orders and plans are so good,

That I wish they were every where well understood, Then hear, ye young nurse-maids, the rules she has taught :

"When an infant is first to the nursery brought,

Think how precious the charge! let it constantly share

Your watchfulness, tenderness, cleanliness, care;
Keep it warm and well-nurtured; yet don't overload
Its body with clothes, or its stomach with food;
In all things distinguish too much from enough;
Be gentle, yet lively; and active, not rough.
If disorder'd and restless, the baby should cry,
Never venture an opiate or cordial to try,

Though some ignorant neighbour should strongly advise
You know not what mischiefs from hence may arise.
If 'tis suddenly ill, or in violent pain,

Seek quickly some proper advice to obtain ;-
Call the mother, if near, or her medical friend,
On immediate attention its life may depend.
If accustom❜d betimes on the carpet to crawl,
'Twill acquire skill and strength, and 'scape many a fall.
Then be sure when you guide its first efforts of speech,
You are careful no lisping or nonsense to teach.
When beginning its toys and its pastimes to choose,
Neither weakly indulge nor perversely refuse;
If it chooses to play with a knife or the fire,
'Twill be needful, you know, to correct the desire ;
All its innocent wishes with pleasure fulfil,
But yield not to stubbornness, pride, or self-will.
When passion and violence struggle and cry,
Though painful the conflict you must not comply;
But when humbled he seeks you, by penitence driven,
Let the fault be at once both forgot and forgiven.
In your language be simple and clear as you can,
Let no sort of deception e'er enter your plan;
Never threaten with objects terrific and vain,
Nor mislead or mispromise compliance to gain.
Be it always your care that each sister and brother
Be gentle, obliging and mild to the other.
Not for worlds let a single expression or word
From your lips that's profane or indecent be heard,
In song or in story, in earnest or jest,

Or a book lie about that might poison its taste.
Be your tales and your ditties not vulgar nor vain,
The sweet stories of Scripture will best entertain ;
Hymns, poems, and rhymes too, a plentiful store,
You safely may add to your nursery lore;
They will aid you some simple devotion to teach;
To the first dawning efforts of reason and speech.

And, Oh, think! if your charge at some far distant day,
Looking back to the years of his childhood should say,
Receive the warm tribute of gratitude due,

I imbibed my first lessons of goodness from you;
What blissful emotions would wake in your breast
Cheer your labour, and soften your pillow of rest.
Far different her feelings who has to reflect
On a nursling destroy'd by her vice and neglect ;
Sin's fearful weeds growing ripe for the curse,
From the seeds in young infancy sown by his nurse."

Anon.

CHINESE CUSTOMS.

THE Chinese bearing no part in public transactions, and living in uninterrupted peace, the uniform insipidity of their existence is relieved by any, even the most frivolous and puerile amusements. This feature, as well as the very striking contrariety of Chinese customs, in comparison with our own, are given with sufficient correctness in the following passages from a little work printed at Macao.

On inquiring of the boatmen in which direction Macao lay, I was answered, in the west-north, the wind, as I was informed, being east-south. We do not say so in Europe, thought I; but imagine my surprise when, in explaining the utility of the compass, the boatmen added, that the needle pointed to the south! Desirous of changing the subject, I remarked that I supposed he was about to proceed to some merry-making, as his dress was completely white. He told me, with a look of much dejection, that his only brother had died the week before, and that he was in the deepest mourning for him. On my landing, the first object that attracted my attention was a military mandarin, who wore an embroidered petticoat, with a string of beads round his neck, and a fan in his hand; and it was with amazement that I observed him mount on the right side of his horse. I was surrounded by natives, all of whom had the hair shaven from the fore part of the head, while a portion of them permitted it to grow on their faces. On my way to the house prepared for my