children at the present time. To give a complete catalogue of useful
books for children would be quite impossible; to give a partial list,
or endeavor to point out what is worthy and what unworthy, would be
little better. No course of reading laid down by one person ever suits
another, and the published "lists of best books," with their solemn
platitudes in the way of advice, are generally interesting only in
their reflection of the writer's personality.

I would not choose too absolutely for a child save in his earliest
years, but would rather surround him with the best and worthiest
books, and let him choose for himself; for there are elective
affinities and antipathies here that need not be disregarded,--that
are, indeed, certain indications of latent powers, and trustworthy
guides to the child's unfolding possibilities.

"Books can only be profoundly influential as they unite themselves
with decisive tendencies." Provide the right conditions for mental
growth, and then let the child do the growing. If we dictate too
absolutely, we _en_velop instead of _de_veloping his mind, and weaken
his power of choice. On the other hand, we do not wish his reading to
be partial or one-sided, as it may be without intelligent oversight.

I was telling bedtime stories, the other night, to a proper, wise,
dull little girl of ten years. When I had successfully introduced a
mother-cat and kittens to her attention, I plunged into what I thought
a graphic and perfectly natural conversation between them, when she
cut me short with the observation that she disliked stories in which
animals talked, because they were not true! I was rebuked, and tried
again with better success, until there came an unlucky figure of
speech concerning a blossoming locust-tree, that bent its green boughs
and laughed in the summer sunshine, because its flowers were fragrant
and lovely, and the world so green and beautiful. This she thought, on
sober second thought, a trifle silly, as trees never did laugh! Now,
that exasperating scrap of humanity (she is abnormal, to be sure)
ought to be locked up and fed upon fairy tales until she is able to
catch a faint glimpse of "the light that never was on sea or land."
Poor, blind, deaf little person, predestined, perhaps, to be the
mother of a lot of other blind, deaf little persons some day,--how I
should like to develop her imagination!

Whatever children read, let us see that it is good of its kind, and
that it