angry with him for breaking
them to pieces, when he can by no other device render them subservient
to his amusement? He breaks them, not from the love of mischief, but
from the hatred of idleness; either he wishes to see what his
playthings are made of, and how they are made; or, whether he can put
them together again, if the parts be once separated. All this is
perfectly innocent; and it is a pity that his love of knowledge and
his spirit of activity should be repressed by the undistinguishing
correction of a nursery maid, or the unceasing reproof of a French
governess.

The more natural vivacity and ingenuity young people possess, the
less are they likely to be amused with the toys which are usually put
into their hands. They require to have things which exercise their
senses or their imagination, their imitative, and inventive powers.
The glaring colours, or the gilding of toys, may catch the eye, and
please for a few minutes, but unless some use can be made of them,
they will, and ought, to be soon discarded. A boy, who has the use of
his limbs, and whose mind is untainted with prejudice, would, in all
probability, prefer a substantial cart, in which he could carry weeds,
earth and stones, up and down hill, to the finest frail coach and six
that ever came out of a toy-shop: for what could he do with the coach
after having admired, and sucked the paint, but drag it cautiously
along the carpet of a drawing-room, watching the wheels, which will
not turn, and seeming to sympathize with the just terrors of the lady
and gentleman within, who are certain of being overturned every five
minutes? When he is tired of this, perhaps, he may set about to
unharness horses which were never meant to be unharnessed; or to
currycomb their woollen manes and tails, which usually come off during
the first attempt.

That such toys are frail and useless, may, however, be considered as
evils comparatively small: as long as the child has sense and courage
to destroy the toys, there is no great harm done; but, in general, he
is taught to set a value upon them totally independent of all ideas of
utility, or of any regard to his own real feelings. Either he is
conjured to take particular care of them, because they cost a great
deal of money; or else he is taught to admire them as miniatures of
some of the fine things on which fine people pride themselves: if no
other bad consequence were to ensue, this single circumstance of his
being guided