upon the subject) by putting
her in the way of acquiring without measure or limit such knowledge as
will lead her out of herself, such knowledge as is interesting for its
own sake; things known because they are interesting, not interesting
because they are known; in a word, by leaving her at liberty to
luxuriate in such feelings and images as will feed her mind in silent
pleasure. This nourishment is contained in fairy tales, romances, the
best biographies and histories, and such parts of natural history
relating to the powers and appearances of the earth and elements, and
the habits and structure of animals, as belong to it, not as an art or
science, but as a magazine of form and feeling. This kind of knowledge
is purely good, a direct antidote to every evil to be apprehended, and
food absolutely necessary to preserve the mind of a child like yours
from morbid appetites. Next to these objects comes such knowledge as,
while it is chiefly interesting for its own sake, admits the fellowship
of another sort of pleasure, that of complacence from the conscious
exertion of the faculties and love of praise. The accomplishments of
dancing, music, and drawing, rank under this head; grammar, learning of
languages, botany probably, and out of the way knowledge of arts and
manufactures, &c. The second class of objects, as far as they tend to
feed vanity and self-conceit, are evil; but let them have their just
proportion in the plan of education, and they will afterwards contribute
to destroy these, by furnishing the mind with power and independent
gratification: the vanity will disappear, and the good will remain.

Lastly comes that class of objects which are interesting almost solely
because they are known, and the knowledge may be displayed; and this
unfortunately comprehends three fourths of what, according to the plan
of modern education, children's heads are stuffed with; that is, minute,
remote, or trifling facts in geography, topography, natural history,
chronology, &c., or acquisitions in art, or accomplishments which the
child makes by rote, and which are quite beyond its age; things of no
value in themselves, but as they show cleverness; things hurtful to any
temper, but to a child like yours absolute poison. Having said thus
much, it seems almost impertinent to add that your child, above all,
should, I might say, be chained down to the severest attention to
truth,--I mean to the minutest accuracy in every thing which she