Vol. V. MARCH, 1843. No. 3.
Amusements.
It is the part of discretion to learn lessons of wisdom wherever we can find them. In many ways, by looking upon the processes of nature, we can discover hints or examples, worthy of imitation, even by rational beings. As we are now upon the subject of amusements, let us see how nature may instruct us in respect to this.
We look around, and notice that the young of all animals devote a portion of every day to amusement. The calf, the lamb, the puppy, the kitten—all have their gambols. This proceeds from no instruction—no parental injunctions; it is instinct—the mandate of the God who made them.
We find, in children, precisely the same instinct—the same mandate. The desire of active, lively, animating sport—the romp, the laugh, the shout, the chase—is as inherent in children, as much a craving of their nature, as the desire of food. These are as necessary, in order to the health, happiness, and proper development of children, as are fresh air, or pure water.
Another thing we observe in young animals, is that their amusements are suitable to their several conditions. The wrestling of young dogs is fitting to creatures who have often to contend for mastery over other animals; the skipping of lambs, is calculated to qualify them to roam over hills, rocks and precipices; the nimble tricks of kittens train them for that dexterity which is needful in their pursuits as mousers.
Thus far, then, we are instructed, by observing young animals, that amusements are necessary, and that these should be suited to circumstances. And we may safely apply these observations to children. They should all have amusements—cheerful—animating ones. They should have sports which take them into the open air—which draw them over hill and valley—which put to the stretch their feet, eyes, ears and hands. All their young faculties should be roused.
But, hark ye, masters and misses!—don’t take undue advantage of what I say—don’t ask for unreasonable or unsuitable amusements. Of these points, your parents are the best judges. I say to parents—your children need their frolics; I say to children—even in your frolics, obey your parents. It is said, and truly, that “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” It maybe added, that all play and no work keeps Jack always a boy.
As to the girls—they need less training than boys; whether it is that they are more discreet, or more heedful, or more docile, I will not say. Boys require line upon line, precept upon precept—here a little and there a little—or rather a good deal. Don’t scowl, my lads, and think that old Merry is turning preacher. Not a bit of it—and if I say that the girls behave better than you do, surely you have gallantry enough to bear me out.