Nature intends, that the cultivation and strengthening of the powers of the mind shall in every case precede those exercises in which their strength is to be tried. In infants and young children we perceive this cultivation and invigorating of the mind going on, long before these powers are to be taxed even for their own preservation. The child is no doubt putting them to use; but in every such case it is voluntary, and not compulsory,--a matter of choice on the part of the child, and not of necessity. The infant, or even the child, is never required to take care of itself, to clothe itself, to wash itself, or even to feed itself. To require it to do so before the mind could comprehend the nature and the design of the particular duty, would be both unreasonable and cruel. This being the case, the exercises of the nursery and the school must be regulated in a similar manner, and follow the same law. The due cultivation of the mind, like the due preparation of the soil, must always precede the sowing of the seed. If this principle in Nature be duly attended to, the seeds of knowledge afterwards cast into the soil thus broken up and prepared, will be readily received and nourished to perfection; but if the soil be neglected, both the seed and the labour will be lost, the anticipations of the spring and summer will end in delusion, and the folly of the whole proceeding will be shewn by a succession of noxious weeds, and at last by an unproductive harvest. The evils which must necessarily result from thus running counter to Nature in this first part of her educational proceedings, may be aptly illustrated by the very common custom of beginning a child's education by teaching it to read. It would perhaps be difficult to convince many that this custom is either unnatural or improper. We shall not attempt here to _argue_ the matter, but shall merely state a fact which they cannot deny, and which will answer the purpose we think much better than an argument.--To teach the art of reading was wont to require the labour of several months, sometimes years, before the perusal of a book could be managed by the child with any degree of ease,--and even then, without any thing approaching to satisfaction or pleasure. And even yet, although the error has in some measure been perceived of late years, yet the art of reading by the young, still requires several months' attendance at school, with corresponding labour to the teacher, and great irritation and unhappiness to the child. But experience has established the fact, that, by acting on the principle of previous preparation which we are here enforcing, and by calling into operation the principle of individuation formerly explained, the whole drudgery of teaching a child to read is got over in a week,--sometimes in a day; and this with much more ease and satisfaction, than could have been done by a thousand lessons while his mind was unprepared.[11]