Mankind must creep before they can walk," is an old adage often used to remind us of that patient application which is so indispensable to secure any highly important or valuable end. But it is as true literally, as it is figuratively. The act of creeping exercises in a remarkable degree nearly all the muscles of the body; and this, too, without much fatigue.

Some mothers there indeed are, who think it a happy circumstance if a child can be taught to walk without this intermediate step. But such mothers must have strange ideas of the animal economy. They must never have thought of the pleasure which creeping affords the mind, or of the vigor it imparts to the body.

Children are wonderfully pleased with their own voluntary efforts. What they can do themselves, yields them ten-fold greater pleasure than if done by the mother or the nurse. Yet the latter are exceedingly prone to forget or overlook all this—and to say, at least practically, that the only proper efforts are those to which themselves give direction.

They are moreover exceedingly fond of display. Some mothers seem to act—in all they do with and for children—as if all the latter were good for, was display and amusement. They feed them, indeed, and strive to prolong their existence; but it appears to be for similar reasons to those which would lead them to take kind care of a pet lamb.

It is on this account that they dress them out in the manner they do, strive to make them sit up straight, and prohibit their creeping. It is on this account too, as much perhaps as any other, that go-carts and leading strings are put in such early requisition. The contrary would be far the safer extreme; and the parent who keeps his child scrambling about upon the back as long as possible, and when he cannot prevent longer an inversion of this position, retains him at creeping as long as is in his power, is as much wiser, in comparison with him who urges him forward to make a prodigy of him, as he is who, instead of making his child a prodigy in mind or morals at premature age, holds him back, and endeavors to have his mental and moral nature developed no faster than his physical frame.

I wish young mothers would settle it in their minds at once, that the longer their children creep the better. They need have no fears that the force of habit will retain them on their knees after nature has given them strength to rise and walk; for their incessant activity and incontrollable restlessness will be sure to rouse them as early as it ought. Least of all ought the difficulty of keeping them clean, to move them from the path of duty.

Children who are allowed to crawl, will soon be anxious to do more. We shall presently see them taking hold of a chair or a table, and endeavoring to raise themselves up by it. If they fail in a dozen attempts, they do not give up the point; but persevere till their efforts are crowned with success.

Having succeeded in raising themselves from the floor, they soon learn to stand, by holding to the object by which they have raised themselves. Soon, they acquire the art of standing without holding; [Footnote: The art of standing, which consists in balancing one's self, by means of the muscles of the body and lower limb—simple as it may seem to those who have never reflected on the subject—is really an important acquisition for a child of twelve or fifteen months. No wonder they feel a conscious pride, when they find themselves able to stand erect, like the world around them.] ere long they venture to put forward one foot—they then repeat the effort and walk a little, holding at the same time by a chair; and lastly they acquire, with joy to them inexpressible and to us inconceivable, the art of "trudging" alone.

When children learn to walk in nature's own way, it is seldom indeed that we find them with curved legs, or crooked or clubbed feet. These deformities are almost universally owing either to the mother or the nurse.

Let me be distinctly understood as utterly opposed, not only to go-carts, leading strings, and every other mechanical contrivance, to induce children to walk before their legs are fit for it, but to efforts of every kind, whose main object is the same. Teaching them to walk by taking hold of one of their hands, is in some respects quite as bad as any other mode; for if the child should fall while we have hold of his hand, there is some danger of dislocating or otherwise injuring the limb.

Falls we must expect; but if a child is left to his own voluntary efforts as much as possible, these falls will be fewer, and probably less serious, than under any other circumstances.