rom
the sight of those who have yet no choice in their sympathy;
expressions of kindness and affection in the countenance, the voice,
the actions, of all who approach, and of all who have the care of
infants, are not only immediately and evidently agreeable to the
children, but ought also to be used as the best possible means of
exciting benevolent sympathies in their mind. Children, who habitually
meet with kindness, habitually feel complacency; that species of
instinctive, or rather of associated affection, which always rises in
the mind from the recollection of past pleasures, is immediately
excited in such children by the sight of their parents. By an easy
transition of ideas, they expect the same benevolence, even from
strangers, which they have experienced from their friends, and their
sympathy naturally prepares them to wish for society; this wish is
often improperly indulged.

At the age when children begin to unfold their ideas, and to express
their thoughts in words, they are such interesting and entertaining
companions, that they attract a large portion of our daily attention:
we listen eagerly to their simple observations; we enter into their
young astonishment at every new object; we are delighted to watch all
their emotions; we help them with words to express their ideas; we
anxiously endeavour to understand their imperfect reasonings, and are
pleased to find, or put them in the right. This season of universal
smiles and courtesy, is delightful to children whilst it lasts, but it
soon passes away; they soon speak without exciting any astonishment,
and instead of meeting with admiration for every attempt to express an
idea, they are soon repulsed for troublesome volubility; even when
they talk sense, they are suffered to talk unheard, or else they are
checked for unbecoming presumption. Children feel this change in
public opinion and manners most severely; they are not sensible of any
change in themselves, except, perhaps, they are conscious of having
improved both in sense and language. This unmerited loss of their late
gratuitous allowance of sympathy, usually operates unfavourably upon
the temper of the sufferers; they become shy and silent, and reserved,
if not sullen; they withdraw from our capricious society, and they
endeavour to console themselves with other pleasures. It is difficult
to them to feel contented with their own little occupations and
amusements, for want of the spectators and the audi