wise for mamma to forbid Johnny to climb a tree. Monkeys
are never forbidden to do so, and I seldom hear anything of their
falling off. Poor people's children climb trees, and there does not seem
to be an extraordinary increase of juvenile mortality on this account.
What should you say if some hard-hearted person, myself for instance,
were to say to the dear mother of little Johnny, "Dear Madam, you
yourself, I grieve to say, were the cause of Johnny's accident; you have
habitually prevented him from doing anything which would quicken his
perceptions and strengthen his limbs. He must not soil his pinafore, he
must not get his hands dirty, and above all he must not play at any
games which make his hair untidy, or tear his clothes. In fact, you have
forbidden him to do precisely those things which Nature prompted him to
do. He has generally been very obedient, you say, and therefore his
bodily powers have become weaker instead of stronger. Well, the
temptation came, the unused and untrustworthy limbs were summoned to
act, his consciousness of doing wrong enfeebled him still further, and
made them still more nervous. He went up the tree, and the natural
consequence was, that he fell."

This, in substance, is the answer to all questions of this class. I have
played at cricket or shinney, or boated, since I was nine years old.
During the last three years and a half, I have played at one or the
other almost every day. I have played at shinney, or hockey, as we call
it, all through the winter, through snow a foot deep, and when the
thermometer was below zero; I have played at cricket in summer with the
thermometer at 90, and I have never yet seen one serious accident. The
fact is, that I have a theory that Nature loves young men and boys, and
love to aid them in their sports. She sends her ice and snow to educate
them and make them hardy, while we are sitting by the stove and abusing
the weather. She won't let them be hurt half as much by a blow or a
fall, as older people who do not love her half as well. She breaks the
young one's fall, and herself puts the plaster on his little fingers.
She is delighted at every conquest that these young children of hers
make over herself, just like some big boxer she stands, who is teaching
his boy to box. He feints and threatens and looks big, but who so
pleased as he when the young one gets in his one two!

Again, the danger is little or nothing to the daring and courageous. The
fellow