ren a little observation in our streets will show that children which get the coarsest fare, and perhaps this very uncertainly, and no tender treatment, will often appear in good health, because they get much exercise, and pass most of their time in the open air. By all means let children be allowed to run, walk, and play, at fitting times within the limit which a judicious mother can perceive, that of not producing positive fatigue or weariness. Want of proper exercise renders children inapt to learn, as well as generally uncomfortable, and in a condition less likely to bear up against any sudden illness. The outbursts which one hears as children come out of school, their wild leaps, and what we may think troublesome displays of activity, are only the natural results of an enforced keeping still for a certain time. By outdoor exercise children grow strong and healthy, but yet they may also receive injury in various ways. One of the most common of these is getting a chill, either by standing about incautiously when overheated; by sitting upon damp grass or even pavement; and also by exposure to rain. Most children have no instinctive dislike to rain, and if caught in a sudden shower will not quicken their pace or seek shelter as an older person would. The elder children of a family, however, may be taught in these matters to take care of themselves, and the younger ones at times committed to their guardianship. Exercise is needful to health— so also is rest. By not using the powers of body and mind, we soon render them incapable of being put into action; yet by incessant use we also exhaust, and at length wear them out. Intervals of rest restore vigour, and the time thus expended is not lost we return with renewed strength and even with pleasure to the round of employment which we were glad to suspend. A large measure of rest may be obtained, not by ceasing from work, but by changing our work so as to bring different powers into action. It would be a great advantage if children were more generally taught to use the left hand, not in preference to the right, but so as to enable it more readily to take turns with the right, and in after life relieve the stress which must otherwise be put upon one limb. It may be noted, too, that the common practice of carrying a child upon the left arm only, should, if possible, be got over, so as to allow of a change being made from one side of the body to the other. The sensation of fatigue or tiredness is a warning voice to admonish us when we are likely to proceed too far; and though there are times when we are unavoidably obliged to pay no attention to the call, it is often wise to keep within the limits of what we think we can do, so as to reserve strength for an emergency. (To be continued.) T was Christmas eve. Snow lay thick on the ground, and myriads of icicles hung glittering in the silvery light of the moon like so many diamonds. On every hand, from old church towers, On a the bells were gladsomely proclaiming the joyous news that Christmas had come again to cheer the earth with its associations and memories; and as the sound of their merry chimes was borne along on the keen frosty air, it seemed to inspire with gladness the hearts of all hearers. Not quite all, however. door-step in one of the busy streets of London, sat a little fellow, with his face buried in his hands, weeping bitterly. A gentleman was passing by quickly-had passed and then turned back, the sight of that child's grief exciting his pity. "What's the matter, little man ?" he asked, kindly. A wee face, pinched and wan, and with such an expression of misery as might have moved a much harder heart than that of the gentleman who had spoken, looked up, evidently astonished at the kind rendered almost inarticulate by choking sobs, the child related how his mother was ill and almost starving for want of food. Did the gentleman turn away after hearing that woful recital? Not he; his heart was touched, and taking a tiny hand, wet with tears, in his, he went to the child's home, and left there such a token of his liberality as caused one poor widow's heart to sing for joy that Christmas eve, and set a small curly head wondering how it was that "mother's words always came true," that if they did but trust God He would never forsake them nor suffer them to come to harm. And then Vincent Aubrey, for he it was who acted so generously, went on his way homeward. Very different this to the journey in the damp foggy November night of nine years before. His step was buoyant and free now, and on his lips there lurked a smile, telling of inward peace and contentment. On he went, passing swiftly by gorgeous shops, wherein were temptingly displayed all manner of Christmas dainties; stopping now to make sundry purchases for expectant little ones, and then on again, until the turmoil of the city was left behind, and he reached his pleasant suburban home, where loved ones were eagerly awaiting his return. Then came a pattering of little feet to the door, and joyous shouts of childish glee as the wrappers were taken off, and the children contended for the first kiss. No heartrending trouble now, that was one of the things of the past at which he could afford to smile. Great changes had come about in the time which had elapsed since then. True to his resolve, he had prepared a statement of his affairs and called a meeting of his creditors, and they, after a minute investigation, had accepted the composition he offered, and, without one dissentient voice, expressed their satisfaction with the course he had taken, and their regret for his misfortunes. No disgrace, they said, attached to his name, and as a man of honour he stood as high in their estimation as ever. After that the struggle began in earnest-adversity brings many trials; men who in the days of his prosperity had deported themselves like friends, now passed him by with averted gaze, or what was harder still to bear, acknowledged him with a cold condescension, which roused all his indignation. He did not lose heart, however. His really good abilities soon procured him employment, and for nearly three years he held bravely on his way. All this time there was much of care and privation to be endured, so much that he often wondered at his wife's courage; but these trials were developing all the latent energies of her woman's nature, and she bore them like a true heroine. Like many others who have suffered, Vincent did not know until adversity came, what noble sacrifices a true woman is willing to make for the sake of those she loves; no expression of regret or repining at her altered circumstances ever passed Edith's lips; and even when increased cares brought a graver look to the fair face, the sound of her husband's footstep was always sufficient to dispel it, and only loving smiles shone out to cheer him. He had enough to bear, she argued, and to add to his troubles by recounting her own would be cruel. Thus every day when he returned, and looked into the deep, clear eyes, which answered him so tenderly, and revealed such wealth of love and wifely devotion, his heart was gladdened, and life became brighter. The outer world might be harsh and unfeeling, but at home he could ever rely on some sympathy and ready help. After a while, fortune began to smile on him again, and circumstances occurred by which he was enabled to start in business once more. Success crowned his efforts, and one morning certain business men, formerly creditors of his, were agreeably surprised by the receipt of remittances, making up the total amounts in which he had formerly stood indebted to them, and which he chose honourably to liquidate with interest, since the date of his failure, although he had received a legal discharge. From that time his rise was rapid, men honoured him for so unmistakeable a proof of integrity, and felt that they could repose perfect confidence in him. 66 "Edith," said the merchant that Christmas eve, after they had been talking over the trial, which at the time of its occurrence had seemed so grievous, "I don't know what I should have done without your help. "But I only did my duty as your wife," she replied, smiling. "You did that he said. duty nobly, my dear," 'Ob, Edie, if all wives and mothers would reflect on the powerful influence they possess, and endeavour by Divine aid to use it rightly, this would be a far better world. You have heard me speak of Hugh Leverton. He and I were in the same office together some years ago, but he left for one of the seaport towns, and I lost sight of him. The other day I met a friend who knew something of him, and from the account he gave me, it seems that Hugh entered into business, married, and for a time did well, but in the panic, which you and I have such good reason to remember, he too sustained great loss, and was, in a pecuniary sense, well nigh ruined. He had splendid talents, and might in a very few years have retrieved his lost position; but, unfortunately, he had taken to himself a wife, beautiful, certainly, in form and feature, but utterly destitute of those admirable qualities which constitute woman's true worth; so that when reverses came, and she was compelled to give up her wellappointed home for a meaner dwelling, and the elegances of life for harder fare, she grew fretful and began to murmur. Poor Hugh bore it very patiently for a while, for he really loved her, and it grieved his manly heart that she should have to suffer by reason of his misfortunes; but at length her continued repinings soured even his fine disposition. He toiled early and late, and denied himself every pleasure so that he might make her position more bearable, but all seemed of no avail. His self-sacrifice was altogether unappreciated, and her regrets and reproaches increased, until he became disheartened, then reckless, and finally began to seek elsewhere the comfort which was denied him at home. Sometime after he removed from the town which had known him in prosperous days, and where he went I could not ascertain, but my friend informed me, that long before he left, nearly every trace of his former bright self was destroyed. Said I not truly, Edith, that if woman's influence were wisely used, this would be a better world?" Just then, youthful voices were heard outside singing an anthem in praise of that Saviour whose birth the joyous season commemorates; and Vincent Aubrey's thoughts went back to the time, little more than nine years before, when under very different circumstances he had listened to other singing; and just as then a prayer had ascended from his heart to heaven, so now another petition went up mingled with glad thanks giving for the past-that the Father of all mercies would in infinite love, vouchsafe to keep him and his dear ones until, life's battle over and the final victory won, they should rise to the prepared mansions, and their voices join in the unceasing minstrelsy of heaven. ERNEST. HINTS ON HEALTH FOR HUMBLE HOMES. A NO. X.-CONCLUSION. FEW remarks on the preservation of the sight and hearing may be suitable as a close to the series of short papers which we trust have not been without their effect. Most precious are both these faculties, and yet we find too many persons thoughtlessly expose themselves and others to evil influences which might be avoided, and the tendency of which is to weaken or to destroy these valuable gifts which link us so closely with our fellow men, and the whole world of nature around and above us. Short-sightedness is an uncomfortable thing, to say the least of it, and it is very probable that it is not so much a natural infirmity, as one produced by certain causes affecting the eyes in childhood. As a means of its prevention, it has been advised to take children, while yet very young, daily into the open air, and allow them to look upon a number of things, far and near. When the vision is confined to the four walls of a room, or a very little more, through a child's earliest years, it is no wonder that the eyes get unused to take in distant objects, and are at last unable to do so. One disadvantage of short-sightedness to children is, that they get easily into a habit of using one eye only, as it is easier for them to look at a thing sideways. If this fault be discovered, it should be checked, and in reading, especially, a short-sighted child should be made to hold the book in use straight 66 before him, and as far off as it can be read. Defects of this sort have been cured in childhood, afterwards they can only be remedied by the use of proper spectacles, which should in all cases be resorted to where the sight needs such aid, whether the defect be "far" or "near" sight. A neglect of this compels many to stoop over their work to an extent which produces sometimes very serious maladies affecting the chest and spine. 'Light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun," is a saying, to the truth of which the experience of all testifies; yet it is needful to regulate sometimes the quantity of light we get, for even the pure light of heaven will injure some eyes, if it fall upon them in a particular direction, and still more is this the case with artificial light. Total blindness has been caused in children by injudicious exposure to the rays of the sun. A dazzling sunshine may be burtful to adults who are sitting in a small apartment, busily employed, and it is well during the summer to avoid this as much as we can, or if we cannot change our room, then to shut out the rays by curtains of some mild colour, rather than by white or anything glaring in tint. When the eyes are weakened by close application, some have supposed it relieves them to sit in darkness. for a while, but this renders the approach of light more painful afterwards. A rest at twilight is of benefit to weak eyes; indeed, as a general rule, it is not well to employ the twilight hour or two in applying the eyes to anything which requires an effort. It will be found no saving at the last, for the sake of sparing a candle or lamp, to have seriously strained these organs; and it may also be noted that a mixed light is bad, that is to say, light from some artificial source while there is still some daylight around; let this be shut out if work has to be done, and it is not sufficient of itself to enable us to do it. Long exposure to any artificial light does particular harm to weak eyes; many ways have been devised to counteract the evil of this. The warmth given off by gas is considerable, yet many think that this light is softer and more agreeable to the eyes than that given by the burning of a candle, or any of the vegetable or mineral oils. Steadiness in burning is an advantage in all cases; and where an ordinary candle is used, a suitable screen to throw down the light is often of service. In reading, it is well to have the light fall sideways on the book; and the higher a candle or lamp is placed from the table, under ordinary circumstances, the less trying is the effect of it. There are some cases where it is necessary to burn a light in bedrooms during the hours of sleep; this should be as small as possible, and placed so as not to fall upon the eyelids, since by that, even when the eyes are closed in sleep, much harm may be sustained. Sudden changes of any kind do harm to the eyes. To come from the cold air or the partial darkness of the streets, to a blazing fireside, weakens them considerably; to put the eyes to any great exertion just after arising from our nightly rest, is also unwise, especially if the light we use be that of a candle or lamp; to exert the eyes much while eating is to impose a strain upon them at a time when all the energy of the system is directed to the stomach, and is as unfair to them as it is to employ them in reading in the open air, or in anything else requiring fixed attention, when we are surrounded by a number of things which naturally lead the eyes to rove from one object to another. Nothing is more salutary to these organs than bathing in cold water, and in the case of weak eyes it may be done twice or thrice a day; it is not well to do it early in the morning, immediately after sleep. The drying needs to be carefully done, and afterwards a short interval of rest should be allowed before the eyes are put to use again. We find that persons generally are more careful of their eyes than their ears. The former sense is |