Advice to a Mother on the Management of Her Children

by Pye Henry Chavasse

THE NURSERY.

165. Save you any remarks to make on the selection, the ventilation, the warming, the temperature, and the arrangements of a nursery? and have you any further observations to offer conducive to the well-doing of my child?

The nursery ought to be the largest and the most airy room in the house. In the town, if it be in the topmost story (provided the apartment be large and airy) so much the better, as the air will then be purer. The architect, in the building of a house, ought to be particularly directed to pay attention to the space, the loftiness, the ventilation, the light, the warming, and the conveniences of a nursery. A bath-room attached to it will be of great importance and benefit to the health of a child.

It will be advantageous to have a water-closet near at hand, which should be well supplied with water, be well drained, and be well ventilated. If this be not practicable, the evacuations ought to be removed as soon as they are passed. It is a filthy and an idle habit of a nurse-maid to allow a motion to remain for any length of time in the room.

The VENTILATION of a nursery is of paramount importance. There ought to be a constant supply of fresh pure air in the apartment. But how few nurseries have fresh, pure air! Many nurseries are nearly hermetically sealed—the windows are seldom, if ever, opened; the doors are religiously closed; and, in summer time, the chimneys are carefully stuffed up, so that a breath of air is not allowed to enter! The consequences are, the poor unfortunate children "are poisoned by their own breaths," and are made so delicate that they are constantly catching cold; indeed, it might be said that they are labouring under chronic catarrhs, all arising from Nature's laws being set at defiance.

The windows ought to be large, and should be made to freely open both top and bottom. Whenever the child is out of the nursery, the windows ought to be thrown wide open; indeed, when he is in it, if the weather be fine, the upper sash should be a little lowered. A child should be encouraged to change the room, frequently, in order that it may be freely ventilated; for good air is as necessary to his health as wholesome food, and air cannot be good if it be not frequently changed. If you wish to have a strong and healthy child, ponder over and follow this advice.

I have to enter my protest against the use of a stove in a nursery. I consider a gas stove without a chimney to be an abomination, most destructive to human life. There is nothing like the old-fashioned open fire-place with a good-sized chimney, so that it may not only carry off the smoke, but also the impure air of the room.

Be strict in not allowing your child either to touch or to play with fire; frightful accidents have occurred from mothers and nurses being on these points lax. The nursery ought to have a large fire-guard, to go all round the hearth, and which should be sufficiently high to prevent a child from climbing over. Not only must the nursery have a guard, but every room where he is allowed to go should he furnished with one on the bars.

Moreover, it will be advisable to have a guard in every room where a fire is burning, to prevent ladies from being burned. Fortunately for them, preposterous crinolines are out of fashion: when they were in fashion, death from burning was of every-day occurrence; indeed, lady-burning was then to be considered one of the institutions of our land!

A nursery is usually kept too hot; the temperature in the winter time ought not to exceed 60 degrees Fahrenheit A good thermometer should be considered an indispensable requisite to a nursery. A child in a hot, close nursery is bathed in perspiration; if he leave the room to go to one of lower temperature, the pores of his skin are suddenly closed, and either a severe cold or an inflammation of the lungs, or an attack of bronchitis, is likely to ensue. Moreover, the child is both weakened and enervated by the heat, and thus readily falls a prey to disease.

A child ought never to be permitted to sit with his back to the fire; if he be allowed, it weakens the spine, and thus his whole frame; it causes a rash of blood to the head and face, and predisposes him to catch cold.

Let a nurse make a point of opening the nursery window every time that she and her little charge leave the nursery, if her absence be only for half an hour. The mother herself ought to see that this advice is followed, pure air is so essential to the well-being of a child. Pure air and pure water, and let me add, pure milk, are for a child the grand and principal requirements of health.

Look well to the DRAINAGE of your house and neighbourhood. A child is very susceptible to the influence of bad drainage. Bad drains are fruitful sources of scarlet fever, of diphtheria, of diarrhoea, &c. "It is sad to be reminded that, whatever evils threaten the health of population, whether from pollutions of water or of air,—whether from bad drainage or overcrowding, they fall heaviest upon the most innocent victims—upon children of tender years. Their delicate frames are infinitely more sensitive than the hardened constitutions of adults, and the breath of poison, or the chill of hardships, easily blights their tender life."—The Times.

A nursery floor ought not to be washed oftener than once a week; and then the child or children should, until it be dry, be sent into another room. During the drying of the floor, the windows must, of course, be thrown wide open.

The constant wetting of a nursery is a frequent source of illness among children. The floor ought, of course, to be kept clean; but this may be done by the servant thoroughly sweeping the room out every morning before her little charge makes his appearance.

Do not have your nursery wall covered with green paper-hangings. Green paper-hangings contain large quantities of arsenic—arsenite of copper (Scheele's green)—which, I need scarcely say, is a virulent poison, and which flies about the room in the form of powder. There is frequently enough poison on the walls of a room to destroy a whole neigbourhood.

There is another great objection to having your nursery walls covered with green paper-hangings; if any of the paper should become loose from the walls, a little child is very apt to play with it, and to put it, as he does every thing else, to his mouth. This is not an imaginary state of things, as four children in one family have just lost their lives from sucking green paper-hangings.

Green dresses, as they are coloured with a preparation of arsenic, are equally as dangerous as green paper-hangings; a child ought, therefore, never to wear a green dress. "It may be interesting to some of our readers," says Land and Water, "to know that the new green, so fashionable for ladies' dresses, is just as dangerous in its nature as the green wall-paper, about which so much was written some time since. It is prepared with a large quantity of arsenic; and we have been assured by several of the leading dressmakers, that the workwomen employed in making up dresses of this colour are seriously affected with all the symptoms of arsenical poisoning. Let our lady friends take care."

Children's toys are frequently painted of a green colour with arsenite of copper, and are consequently, highly dangerous for him to play with. The best toy for a child is a box of unpainted wooden bricks, which is a constant source of amusement to him.

If you have your nursery walls hung with paintings and engravings, let them be of good quality. The horrid daubs and bad engravings that usually disfigure nursery walls, are enough to ruin the taste of a child, and to make him take a disgust to drawing, which would be a misfortune. A fine engraving and a good painting expand and elevate his mind. We all know that first impressions are the most vivid and the most lasting. A taste in early life for everything refined and beautiful purifies his mind, cultivates his intellect, keeps him from low company, and makes him grow up a gentleman!

Lucifer matches, in case of sudden illness, should, both in the nursery and in the bedroom, be always in readiness; but they must be carefully placed out of the reach of children, as lucifer matches are a deadly poison. Many inquests have been held on children who have, from having sucked them, been poisoned by them.

166. Have you any observation to make on the LIGHT of a nursery?

Let the window, or what is better, the windows, of a nursery be very large, so as to thoroughly light up every nook and corner of the room, as there is nothing more conducive to the health of a child than an abundance of light in the dwelling. A room cannot, then, be too light. The windows of a nursery are generally too small. A child requires as much light as a plant. Gardeners are well aware of the great importance of light in the construction of their greenhouses, and yet a child, who requires it as much, and is of much greater importance, is cooped up in dark rooms!

The windows of a nursery ought not only to be frequently opened to let in fresh air, but should be frequently cleaned, to let in plenty of light and of sunshine, as nothing is so cheering and beneficial to a child as an abundance of light and sunshine!

With regard to the best artificial light for a nursery.—The air of a nursery cannot be too pure; I therefore do not advise you to have gas in it, as gas in burning gives off quantities of carbonic acid and sulphuretted hydrogen, which vitiate the air. The paraffine lamp, too, makes a room very hot and close. There is no better light for a nursery than either Price's patent candles or the old-fashioned tallow-candle.

Let a child's home he the happiest house to him in the world; and to be happy he must be merry, and all around him should be merry and cheerful; and he ought to have an abundance of playthings, to help on the merriment. If he have a dismal nurse, and a dismal home, he may as well be incarcerated in a prison, and be attended by a gaoler. It is sad enough to see dismal, doleful men and women, but it is a truly lamentable and unnatural sight to see a doleful child! The young ought to be as playful and as full of innocent mischief as a kitten. There will be quite time enough in after years for sorrow and for sadness.

Bright colours, plenty of light, clean windows (mind this, if you please), an abundance of good-coloured prints, and toys without number, are the proper furnishings of a nursery. Nursery! why, the very name tells you what it ought to be—the home of childhood—the most important room in the house,—a room that will greatly tend to stamp the character of your child for the remainder of his life.

167. Have you any more hints to offer conducive to the well-doing of my child?

You cannot be too particular in the choice of those who are in constant attendance upon him. You yourself, of course, must be his head-nurse—you only require some one to take the drudgery off your hands! You ought to be particularly careful in the selection of his nurse. She should be steady, lively, truthful, and good tempered; and must be free from any natural imperfection, such as squinting, stammering, &c., for a child is such an imitative creature that he is likely to acquire that defect, which in the nurse is natural. "Children, like babies, are quick at 'taking notice.' What they see they mark, and what they mark they are very prone to copy."—The Times.

She ought not to be very young, or she may be thoughtless, careless, and giggling. You have no right to set a child to mind a child; it would be like the blind leading the blind. No! a child is too precious a treasure to be entrusted to the care and keeping of a young girl. Many a child has been ruined for life by a careless young nurse dropping him and injuring his spine.

A nurse ought to be both strong and active, in order that her little charge may have plenty of good nursing; for it requires great strength in the arms to carry a heavy child for the space of an hour or two at a stretch, in the open air; and such is absolutely necessary, and is the only way to make him strong, and to cause him to cut his teeth easily, and at the same time to regulate his bowels; a noise, therefore, most be strong and active, and not mind hard, work, for hard work it is; but, after she is accustomed to it, pleasant notwithstanding.

Never should a nurse be allowed to wear a mask, nor to dress up and paint herself as a ghost, or as any other frightful object. A child is naturally timid and full of fears, and what would not make the slightest impression upon a grown-up person might throw a child into fits—

"The sleeping, and the dead,
Are but as pictures: 'tis the age of childhood
That fears a painted devil."—Shakspeare.

Never should she be permitted to tell her little charge frightful stories of ghosts and hobgoblins; if this be allowed, the child's disposition will become timid and wavering, and may continue so for the remainder of his life.

If a little fellow were not terrified by such stories, the darkness would not frighten him more than the light. Moreover, the mind thus filled with fear, acts upon the body, and injures the health. A child must never be placed in a dark cellar, nor frightened by tales of rats, &c. Instances are related of fear thus induced impairing the intellect for life; and there are numerous examples of sudden fright causing a dangerous and even a fatal illness.

Night-terrors.—This frightening of a child by a silly nurse frequently brings on night-terrors. He wakes up suddenly, soon after going to sleep, frightened and terrified; screaming violently, and declaring that he has seen either some ghost, or thief, or some object that the silly nurse had been previously in the day describing, who is come for him to take him away. The little fellow is the very picture of terror and alarm; he hides his face in his mother's bosom, the perspiration streams down him, and it is some time before he can be pacified—when, at length, he falls into a troubled feverish slumber, to awake in the morning unrefreshed. Night after night these terrors harass him, until his health materially suffers, and his young life becomes miserable looking forward with dread to the approach of darkness.

Treatment of night terrors.—If they have been brought on by the folly of the nurse, discharge her at once, and be careful to select a more discreet one. When the child retires to rest, leave a candle burning, and let it burn all night, sit with him until he be asleep, and take care, in case he should rouse up in one of his night-terrors, that either yourself or some kind person be near at hand. Do not scold him for being frightened—he cannot help it, but soothe him, calm him, fondle him, take him into your arms and let him feel that he has some one to rest upon, to defend and to protect him. It is frequently in these cases necessary before he can be cared to let him have change of air and change of scene. Let him live, in the day time, a great part of the day in the open air.

A nurse maid should never, on any account whatever, be allowed to whip a child. "Does ever any man or woman remember the feeling of being 'whipped' as a child, the fierce anger, the insupportable ignominy, the longing for revenge, which blotted out all thought of contrition for the fault or rebellion against the punishment? With this recollection on their own parts, I can hardly suppose any parents venturing to inflict it, much less allowing its infliction by another under any circumstances whatever. A nurse-maid or domestic of any sort, once discovered to have lifted up her hand against a child, ought to meet instant severe rebuke, and on a repetition of the offence instant dismissal." [Footnote: A Woman's Thoughts about Women.]

I have seen in the winter tune a lazy nurse sit before the fire with a child on her lap, rubbing his cold feet just before putting him to his bed. Now, this is not the way to warm his feet. The right method is to let him romp and run either about the room, or the landing, or the hall—this will effectually warm them, but, of course, it will entail a little extra trouble on the nurse, as she will have to use a little exertion to induce him to do so, and this extra trouble a lazy nurse will not relish. Warming the feet before the fire will give the little fellow chilblains, and will make him when he is in bed more chilly. The only way for him to have a good romp before he goes to bed, is for the mother to join in the game. She may rest assured, that if she does so, her child will not be the only one to benefit by it. She herself will find it of marvellous benefit to her own health; it will warm her own feet, it will be almost sure to insure her a good night, and will make her feel so light and buoyant as almost to fancy that she is a girl again! Well, then, let every child, before going to bed, hold a high court of revelry, let him have an hour—the Children's Hour—devoted to romp, to dance, to shout, to sing, to riot, and to play, and let him be the master of the revels—

"Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupation,
Which is known as the Children's Hour."

Longfellow.

Let a child be employed—take an interest in his employment, let him fancy that he is useful—and he is useful, he is laying in a stock of health. He is much more usefully employed than many other grown-up children are!

A child should be happy; he must, in every way, be made happy; everything ought to be done to conduce to his happiness, to give him joy, gladness, and pleasure. Happy he should be, as happy as the day is long. Kindness should be lavished upon him. Make a child understand that you love him; prove it in your actions—these are better than words; look after his little pleasures—join in his little sports; let him never hear a morose word—it would rankle in his breast, take deep root, and in due time bring forth bitter fruit. Love! let love be his pole-star; let it be the guide and the rule of all you do and all you say unto him. Let your face, as well as your tongue speak love. Let your hands be ever ready to minister to his pleasures and to his play. "Blessed be the hand that prepares a pleasure for a child, for there is no saying when and where it may again bloom forth. Does not almost everybody remember some kind-hearted man who showed him a kindness in the dulcet days of childhood? The writer of this recollects himself, at this moment, a bare-footed lad, standing at the wooden fence of a poor little garden in his native village, while, with longing eyes, he gazed on the flowers which were blooming there quietly in the brightness of the Sabbath morning. The possessor came from his little cottage. He was a wood-cutter by trade, and spent the whole week at work in the woods. He had come into the garden to gather flowers to stick in his coat when he went to church. He saw the boy, and breaking off the most beautiful of his carnations (it was streaked with red and white), he gave it to him. Neither the giver nor the receiver spoke a word, and with bounding steps the hoy ran home. And now, here, at a vast distance from that home, after so many events of so many years, the feeling of gratitude which agitated the breast of the boy, expressed itself on paper. The carnation has long since faded, but it now bloometh afresh."—Douglas Jerrold.

The hearty ringing laugh of a child is sweet music to the ear. There are three most joyous sounds in nature—the hum of a bee, the purr of a cat, and the laugh of a child. They tell of peace, of happiness, and of contentment, and make one for a while forget that there is so much misery in the world.

A man who dislikes children is unnatural, he has no "milk of human kindness" in him; he should be shunned. Give me, for a friend, a man—

"Who takes the children on his knee,
And winds their curls, about his hand."—Tennyson.

168. If a child be peevish, and apparently in good health, have you any plan to propose to allay his irritability?

A child's troubles are soon over—his tears are soon dried; "nothing dries sooner than a tear"—if not prolonged by improper management—

"The tear down childhood's check that flows
Is like the dew-drop on the rose;
When next the summer breeze comes by,
And waves the bush, the flower is dry."—Scott.

Never allow a child to be teased; it spoils his temper. If he be in a cross humour take no notice of it, but divert his attention to some pleasing object. This may be done without spoiling him. Do not combat bad temper with bad temper—noise with noise. Be firm, be kind, be gentle, [Footnote: "But we were gentle among you, even as a women cherisheth her children."—1 Thess. ii. 7.] be loving, speak quietly, smile tenderly, and embrace him fondly, but insist upon implicit obedience, and you will have, with God's blessing, a happy child—

"When a little child is weak
From fever passing by,
Or wearied out with restlessness
Don't scold him if he cry.

Tell him some pretty story—
Don't read it from a book;
He likes to watch you while you speak,
And take in every look.

Or sometimes singing gently—
A little song may please,
With quiet and amusing words,
And tune that flows with ease.

Or if he is impatient,
Perhaps from time to time
A simple hymn may suit the best,
In short and easy rhyme.

The measured verses flowing
In accents clear and mild,
May blend into his troubled thought,
And soothe the little child.

But let the words be simple,
And suited to his mind,
And loving, that his weary heart
A resting-place may find."—Household Verses.

Speak, gently to a child; speak gently to all; but more especially speak gently to a child. "A gentle voice is an excellent thing in a woman," and is a jewel of great price, and is one of the concomitants of perfect lady. Let the hinges of your disposition be well oiled. "'I have a dear friend. He was one of those well-oiled dispositions which turn upon the hinges of the world without creaking.' Would to heaven there were more of them! How many there are who never turn upon the hinges of this world without a grinding that sets the teeth of a whole household on edge! And somehow or other it has been the evil fate of many of the best spirits to be so circumstanced; both men and women, to whom life is 'sweet habitude of being,' which has gone far to reconcile them to solitude as far less intolerable! To these especially the creakings of those said rough hinges of the world is one continued torture, for they are all too finely strung; and the oft-recurring grind jars the whole sentient frame, mars the beautiful lyre, and makes cruel discord in a soul of music. How much of sadness there is in such thoughts! Seems there not a Past in some lives, to which it is impossible ever to become reconciled!"—Life's Problems.

Pleasant words ought always to be spoken to a child; there must be neither snarling, nor snapping, nor snubbing, nor loud contention towards him. If there be it will ruin his temper and disposition, and will make him hard and harsh, morose and disagreeable.

Do not always be telling your child how wicked he is; what a naughty boy he is; that God will never love him, and all the rest of such twaddle and blatant inanity! Do not, in point of fact, bully him, as many poor little fellows are bullied! It will ruin him if you do; it will make him in after years either a coward or a tyrant. Such conversations, like constant droppings of water, will make an impression, and will cause him to feel that it is of no use to try to be good—that he is hopelessly wicked! Instead of such language, give him confidence in himself; rather find out his good points and dwell upon them; praise him where and whenever you can; and make him feel that, by perseverance and God's blessing, he will make a good man. Speak truthfully to your child; if you once deceive him, he will not believe you for the future. Not only so, but if you are truthful yourself you are likely to make him truthful—like begets like. There is something beautiful in truth! A lying child is an abomination! Sir Walter Scott says "that he taught his son to ride, to shoot, and to tell the truth" Archdeacon Hare asserts "that Purity is the feminine, Truth the masculine of Honour."

As soon as a child can speak he should be made to lisp the noble words of truth, and to love it, and to abhor a lie! What a beautiful character he will then make! Blessed is the child that can say,—

"Parental cares watched o'er my growing youth,
And early stamped it with the love of truth."

Leadbeater Papers.

Have no favourites, show no partiality; for the young are very jealous, sharp-sighted, and quick-witted, and take a dislike to the petted one. Do not rouse the old Adam in them. Let children be taught to be "kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love;" let them be encouraged to share each other's toys and playthings, and to banish selfishness.

Attend to a child's little pleasures. It is the little pleasures of a child that constitute his happiness. Great pleasures to him and to us all (as a favourite author remarks) come but seldom, and are the exceptions, and not the rule.

Let a child he nurtured in love. "It will be seen," says the author of John Halifax, "that I hold this law of kindness as the Alpha and Omega of education. I once asked one, in his own house, a father in everything but the name, his authority unquestioned, his least word held in reverence, his smallest wish obeyed—'How did you ever manage to bring up these children?' He said: 'By love.'"

Let every word and action prove that you love your children. Enter into all their little pursuits and pleasures. Join them in their play, and be a "child again!" If they are curious, do not check their curiosity; but rather encourage it; for they have a great deal—as we all have—to learn, and how can they know if they are not taught? You may depend upon it the knowledge they obtain from observation is far superior to that obtained from books. Let all you teach them, let all you do, and let all you say bear the stamp of love. "Endeavour, from first to last, in your intercourse with your children, to let it bear the impress of love. It is not enough that you feel affection towards your children—that you are devoted to their interests; you must show in your manner the fondness of your hearts towards them. Young minds cannot appreciate great sacrifices made for them; they judge their parents by the words and deeds of every-day life. They are won by little kindnesses, and alienated by little acts of neglect or impatience. One complaint unnoticed, one appeal unheeded, one lawful request arbitrarily refused, will be remembered by your little ones more than a thousand acts of the most devoted affection."—The Protoplast.

A placid, well-regulated temper is very conducive to health. A disordered, or an over-loaded stomach, is a frequent cause of peevishness. Appropriate treatment in such a case will, of course, be necessary.

169. My child stammers: can you tell me the cause, and can you suggest a remedy?

A child who stammers is generally "nervous," quick, and impulsive. His ideas flow too rapidly for speech. He is "nervous;" hence, when he is alone, and with those he loves, he oftentimes speaks fluently and well; he stammers more both when he is tired and when he is out of health—when the nerves are either weak or exhausted. He is emotional: when he is either in a passion or in excitement, either of joy or of grief, he can scarcely speak—"he stammers all over." He is impulsive: he often stammers in consequence. He is in too great a hurry to bring out his words; they do not flow in proper sequence: hence his words are broken and disjointed.

Stammering, of course, might be owing either to some organic defect, such as from defective palate, or from defective brain, then nothing will cure him; or it might be owing to "nervous" causes—to "irregular nervous action," then a cure might, with care and perseverance, be usually effected.

In all cases of stammering of a child, let both the palate of his mouth and the bridle of his tongue be carefully examined, to see that neither the palate be defective, nor the bridle of the tongue be too short—that he be not tongue-tied.

Now, with regard to Treatment.—Make him speak slowly and deliberately: let him form each word, without clipping or chopping; let him be made, when you are alone with him, to exercise himself in elocution. If he speak quickly, stop him in his mid-career, and make him, quietly and deliberately, go through the sentence again and again, until he has mastered the difficulty; teach him to collect his thoughts, and to weigh each word ere he give it utterance; practise him in singing little hymns and songs for children; this you will find a valuable help in the cure. A stammerer seldom stutters when he sings. When he sings, he has a full knowledge of the words, and is obliged to keep in time—to sing neither too fast nor too slow. Besides, he sings in a different key to his speaking voice. Many professors for the treatment of stammering cure their patients by practising lessons of a sing-song character.

Never jeer him for stammering, nor turn him to ridicule; if you do, it will make him ten times worse; but be patient and gentle with him, and endeavour to give him confidence, and encourage him to speak to you as quietly, as gently, and deliberately as you speak to him; tell him not to speak, until he has arranged his thoughts and chosen his words; let him do nothing in a hurry.

Demosthenes was said, in his youth, to have stammered fearfully, and to have cured himself by his own prescription, namely, by putting a pebble in his mouth, and declaiming, frequently, slowly quietly, and deliberately, on the sea-shore—the fishes alone being his audience,— until at length he cured himself, and charmed the world with his eloquence and with his elocution. He is held up, to this very day, as the personification and as the model of an orator. His patience, perseverance, and practice ought, by all who either are, or are, interested in a stammerer, to be borne in mind and followed.

170. Do you approve of a carpet in a nursery?

No, unless it be a small piece for a child to roll upon. A carpet harbours dirt and dust, which dust is constantly floating about the atmosphere, and thus making it impure for him to breathe. The truth of this may be easily ascertained by entering a darkened room, where a ray of sunshine is struggling through a crevice in the shutters. If the floor of a nursery must be covered, let drugget be laid down, and this may every morning be taken up and shaken. The less furniture a nursery contains the better, for much furniture obstructs the free circulation of the air, and, moreover, prevents a child from taking proper play and exercise in the room—an abundance of which are absolutely necessary for his health.

171. Supposing there is not a fire in the nursery grate, ought the chimney to be stopped to prevent a draught in the room?

Certainly not. I consider the use of a chimney to be two-fold—first, to carry off the smoke, and secondly (which is of quite as much importance), to ventilate the room, by carrying off the impure air, loaded as it is with carbonic acid gas—the refuse of respiration. The chimney, therefore, should never, either winter or summer, be allowed for one moment to be stopped. This is important advice, and requires the strict supervision of every mother, as servants will, if they have the chance, stop all chimneys that have no fires in the grates.