he alphabet to begin with, then some
syllables and little words neatly arranged in columns, and directly upon
that the reading-lesson, introduced, it may be, by the picture of a
child in long pantalettes contemplating a shrub which, figuratively
speaking, lent color to a few conventional remarks upon the rose,--as
that it is red and smells sweet. Such was the whole system. We are
aware now that to storm the citadel of letters in that fashion was
absurd; that, on the contrary, it should be scientifically approached in
the taking of outworks; and nevertheless here also is the fact to be
reckoned with that children did learn by the old system, and that they
learned with what looks in these days like marvellous celerity is a
mitigating circumstance which has even yet a certain charm for some
minds. There was a precision, too, about acquirements under the ancient
method which is not always found under the new. At present the very
mother of a child of eight years may not be quite clear as to her
daughter's attainments; she _can_ read, but still, "you know, they teach
them now to write first," and it appears eventually that Nellie writes
so well and reads so ill as to be obliged to copy off her lessons for
the advantage of learning them from her own handwriting.

But all this is simply in support of the proposition that children can
learn to read anyhow, and, assuming thus much to be demonstrated, we may
pass to something else. _What_ is a weightier consideration in the
matter of reading than either _how_ or _when_. As a question, it would
be differently answered in different ages of the world. We know that Dr.
Johnson once took a little girl on his knee and put her directly down
again because she had not read "Pilgrim's Progress." The great
lexicographer might take up and put down a good many children nowadays
before he found the right one; and we need not think the worse of them
on that account. We feel that even a child who had the advantage of Dr.
Johnson's acquaintance ought not to be required to comprehend the
Immortal Allegory. It is true he may have expected her to enjoy it
without comprehending it, and that gives the case a different aspect.
Considering how few books the little maid had of her own, and especially
if it was an illustrated edition of Bunyan's works which, lying on the
table, prompted the good doctor's question, one is half inclined to
agree with him that the demons in the Valley of the Shadow of Death an