without being assured he will
succeed in it. His eye will be attentive and critical, and he will not
ask foolish questions about everything he sees. Before making any
inquiries he will tire himself trying to find a thing out for himself.
If he meets with unexpected difficulties, he will be less disturbed by
them than another child, and less frightened if there is danger. As
nothing has been done to arouse his still dormant imagination, he sees
things only as they are, estimates danger accurately, and is always
self-possessed. He has so often had to give way to necessity that he
no longer rebels against it. Having borne its yoke ever since he was
born, he is accustomed to it, and is ready for whatever may come.
Work and play are alike to him; his plays are his occupations, and he
sees no difference between the two. He throws himself into everything
with charming earnestness and freedom, which shows the bent of his mind
and the range of his knowledge. Who does not enjoy seeing a pretty
child of this age, with his bright expression of serene content, and
laughing, open countenance, playing at the most serious things, or
deeply occupied with the most frivolous amusements? He has reached the
maturity of childhood, has lived a child's life, not gaining perfection
at the cost of his happiness, but developing the one by means of the
other.
While acquiring all the reasoning power possible to his age, he has
been as happy and as free as his nature allowed. If the fatal scythe
is to cut down in him the flower of our hopes, we shall not be obliged
to lament at the same time his life and his death. Our grief will not
be embittered by the recollection of the sorrows we have made him feel.
We shall be able to say, "At least, he enjoyed his childhood; we robbed
him of nothing that nature gave him."
In regard to this early education, the chief difficulty is, that only
far-seeing men can understand it, and that a child so carefully
educated seems to an ordinary observer only a young scapegrace.
A tutor usually considers his own interests rather than those of his
pupil. He devotes himself to proving that he loses no time and earns
his salary. He teaches the child such accomplishments as can be
readily exhibited when required, without regard to their usefulness or
worthlessness, so long as they are showy. Without selecting or
discerning, he charges the child's memory with a vast amount of
rubbish. When the child is to
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