In the matter of reading, it must be remembered that the child of seven is as truly a critic as the man of seventy; and while it is the aim of the parent or teacher to put into the hands of the child such literature as will be conducive to his welfare, it is neither wise nor just to force upon him material against which he instinctively rebels. And here is where theory and practice conflict. I recall that on my eighth birthday a much interested relative presented me with a copy of Wm. Matthew’s “Getting on in the World.” His intentions in making this gift were admirable; he had my future in view, and he did what he believed to be a very correct thing. I might either have read the book myself or have had it read to me. The latter I believe was done, my seniors entertaining the hope that I would thereby be imbued with ideas which might become the foundation of future success. Alas! my well-intentioned relative made the mistake of acting upon false theory instead of trusting to his practical common sense. Had the proviso been made that I should read the book at, say, the age of fifteen or earlier, should development allow, the purpose of the donor might have been met; but as the book was not suited to my age and understanding, the result was disappointment to both giver and receiver. This is mentioned as an instance of misguided zeal, the giver failing to see that the child was unable to digest and assimilate the proffered mental pabulum. It is only natural that parents should wish their children to be well informed, and with this end in view many a fond mother proceeds to fill the head of her poor defenceless child with science, instead of regaling it with nursery rhymes, folk lore, and fairy tales. Not infrequently a child will grow up without having been allowed to read or listen to a fairy tale. Mythology, travel, history, earth, sky, etc., but nothing that will not add in some way to scholarly attainment. Poor child! he is defrauded by his own parents. The desire for the beautiful fairy, the wicked witch, and the ugly giant is natural to a child. Every human being is endowed with an imagination which is active and insistent, and its craving is really the thirst for knowledge. It may seem strange, perhaps, that the nursery rhyme and the fairy tale should be rungs of the ladder of knowledge. Take the case of a man at the head of a profession. He didn’t reach his present height at a jump, but, beginning with the most elementary subjects, he acquired his learning by degrees, until in due course he won prominence. And so it is with the child: step by step come the nursery jingle and rhyme, the fairy tale, simple poetry, etc., all paving the way for that which requires more strenuous effort.