“Geography, one would at first think, would be one of the studies which a child could learn thoroughly; but, on reflection, we shall see that the elementary ideas, which that study brings to the mind, are beyond the grasp of very young children. They have no ideas of distance, and of course can have no adequate conception of the earth, or of continents, oceans, mountains. It is impossible to carry the mind of a very young child away from the lines, and dots, and crooked configurations of the map, to the vast forms of real land and water, represented by them. We all carry with us to the end of life absurd and ridiculous ideas of some regions of the earth’s surface, which we obtained from our maps, when we were children. But a child cannot very well form an absurd or ridiculous idea of the number ten, or of the letter s, or of the mode of spelling until.”
“Well, father,” said Lucy, “I know what a mountain is, at any rate.”
“What is it?” said her father.
“It is a great, high hill.”
“How high is it?” said her father.
“O, it is very high,” said Lucy, reaching up with her hand; “very high, indeed. Higher than this house.”
“Is it as high as a tree?” said her father.
“Yes,” said Lucy, “a great deal higher than a tree.”
“Is it as high as the steeple of a church?” asked her father.
“Why, I don’t know,” answered Lucy. “I don’t know that it is quite so high as the steeple of a church.”