AMUSEMENTS.
177. Have you any remarks to make on the amusements of a child?
Let the amusements of a child be as much as possible out of doors; let him spend the greater part of every day in the open air; let him exert himself as much as he pleases, his feelings will tell him when to rest and when to begin again; let him be what nature intended him to be—a happy, laughing, joyous child. Do not let him be always poring over books.
“Books! ’tis a dull and endless strife,
Come, hear the woodland linnet!
How sweet his music! On my life
There’s more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,—
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless,—
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by cheerfulness.
One impulse from a vernal wood,
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.”
He ought to be encouraged to engage in those sports wherein the greatest number of muscles are brought into play. For instance, to play at ball, or hoop, or football, to play at horses, to run to certain distances and back; and, if a girl, to amuse herself with a skipping-rope, such being excellent exercise—
“By sports like these are all their cares beguiled,—
The sports of children satisfy the child.”
Every child, where it be practicable, should have a small plot of ground to cultivate, that he may dig and delve in, and make dirt-pies if he choose. Children, nowadays, unfortunately, are not allowed to soil their hands and their fine clothes. For my own part, I dislike such model children; let a child be natural—let him, as far as is possible, choose his own sports. Do not be always interfering with his pursuits, and be finding fault with him. Remember, what may be amusing to you may be distasteful to him. I do not, of course, mean but that you should constantly have a watchful eye over him; yet do not let him see that he is under restraint or surveillance; if you do, you will never discover his true character and inclinations. Not only so, but do not dim the bright sunshine of his early life by constantly checking and thwarting him. Tupper beautifully says:
“And check not a child in his merriment,—
Should not his morning be sunny?”
When, therefore, he is either in the nursery or in the play-ground, let him shout and riot and romp about as much as he pleases. His lungs and his muscles want developing, and his nerves require strengthening; and how can such be accomplished unless you allow them to be developed and strengthened by natural means?
The nursery is a child’s own domain; it is his castle, and he should be Lord Paramount therein. If he choose to blow a whistle, or to spring a rattle, or to make any other hideous noise, which to him is sweet music, he should be allowed, without let or hindrance, to do so. If any members of the family have weak nerves, let them keep at a respectful distance.
A child who never gets into mischief must be either sly, or delicate, or idiotic; indeed, the system of many persons in bringing up children is likely to make them either the one or the other. The present plan of training children is nearly all work (books), and very little play. Play, and plenty of it, is necessary to the very existence of a child.
A boy not partial to mischief, innocent mischief, and play, is unnatural; he is a man before his time, he is a nuisance, he is disagreeable to himself and to every one around. “A boy not fond of fun and frolic may possibly make a tolerable man, but he is an intolerable boy.”
Girls, at the present time, are made clever simpletons; their brains are worked with useless knowledge, which totally unfits them for everyday duties. Their muscles are allowed to be idle, which makes them limp and flabby. The want of proper exercise ruins the complexion, and their faces become of the color of a tallow candle! And precious wives and mothers they make when they do grow up! Grow up, did I say. They grow all manner of ways, and are as crooked as crooked sticks!
What an unnatural thing it is to confine a child several hours a day to his lessons; why, you might as well put a colt in harness, and make him work for his living! A child is made for play; his roguish little eye, his lithe figure, his antics, and his drollery, all point out that he is cut out for play—that it is as necessary to his existence as the food he eats, and as the air he breathes!
A child ought not to be allowed to have playthings with which he can injure either himself or others, such as toy-swords, toy-cannons, toy-paint-boxes, knives, bows and arrows, hammers, chisels, saws, etc. He will not only be likely to injure himself and others, but will make sad havoc on furniture, house, and other property. Fun, frolic, and play ought, in all innocent ways, to be encouraged; but willful mischief and dangerous games ought, by every means, to be discountenanced. This advice is frequently much needed, as children prefer to have and delight in dangerous toys, and often coax and persuade weak and indulgent mothers to gratify their wishes.
Painted toys are, many of them, highly dangerous, those painted green especially, as the color generally consists of Scheele’s green—arsenite of copper.
Children’s paint-boxes are very dangerous toys for a child to play with: many of the paints are poisonous, containing arsenic, lead, gamboge, etc., and a child, when painting, is apt to put the brush into his mouth, to absorb the superabundant fluid. Of all the colors, the green paint is the most dangerous, as it is frequently composed of arsenite of copper—arsenic and copper—two deadly poisons.
There are some paint-boxes warranted not to contain a particle of poison of any kind: these ought, for a child, to be chosen by a mother.
But, remember, although he ought not to be allowed to have poison paint-boxes and poison-painted toys, he must have an abundance of toys, such as the white-wood toys—brewers’ drays, millers’ wagons, boxes of wooden bricks, etc. The Noah’s Ark is one of the most amusing and instructive toys for a child. “Those fashioned out of brown, unpainted pine-wood by the clever carvers of Nuremberg or the Black Forest are the best, I think, not only because they are the most spirited, but because they will survive a good deal of knocking about, and can be sucked with impunity. From the first dawn of recollection, children are thus familiarized with the forms of natural objects, and may be well up in natural history before they have mastered the A B C.”
Parents often make Sunday a day of gloom: to this I much object. Of all the days in the week, Sunday should be the most cheerful and pleasant. It is considered by our Church a festival; and a glorious festival it ought to be made, and one on which our Heavenly Father wishes to see all His children happy and full of innocent joy! Let Sunday, then, be made a cheerful, joyous, innocently happy day, and not, as it frequently is, the most miserable and dismal in the week. It is my firm conviction that many men have been made irreligious by the ridiculously strict and dismal way they were compelled, as children, to spend their Sundays. You can no more make children religious by gloomy asceticism, than you can make people good by Act of Parliament!
One of the great follies of the present age is, children’s parties, where they are allowed to be dressed like grown-up women, stuck out in crinoline, and encouraged to eat rich cake and pastry, and to drink wine, and to sit up late at night! There is something disgusting and demoralizing in all this. Their pure minds are blighted by it. Do not let me be misunderstood: there is not the least objection, but, on the contrary, great advantage, for friends’ children to meet friends’ children; but then let them be treated as children, and not as men and women!
178. Do you approve of public play-grounds for children?
It would be well, in every village, and in the outskirts of every town, if a large plot of ground were set apart for children to play in, and to go through regular gymnastic exercises. Play is absolutely necessary to a child’s very existence, as much as food and sleep; but in many parts of England where is he to have it? Play-grounds and play are the best schools we have; they teach a great deal not taught elsewhere; they give lessons in health, which is the grandest wealth that can be bestowed—“for health is wealth;” they prepare the soil for the future school-master; they clear the brain, and thus the intellect; they strengthen the muscles; they make the blood course merrily through the arteries; they bestow healthy food for the lungs; they give an appetite; they make a child, in due time, become every inch a man! Play-grounds and play are one of the finest Institutions we possess. What would our large public schools be without their play and cricket-grounds? The would be shorn of half their splendor and usefulness.
There is so much talk nowadays about useful knowledge, that the importance of play and play-grounds is likely to be forgotten. I cannot help thinking, however, that a better state of things is dawning. “It seems to be found out that in our zeal for useful knowledge, that knowledge is found to be not the least useful which treats boys as active, stirring, aspiring, and ready.”