The process is spontaneous on all sides, like the education of the child by the family circle.
But while the most stupid nursery maid is able to contribute her part toward the result, we do not expect an analysis of the process to be furnished by any member of the family, least of all by the engaging infant.

The philosophical maiden aunt alone, or some other witness equally psychological and aloof, is able to trace the myriad efforts by which the little Johnnie or Nellie acquires a secure hold on the disjointed parts of the huge plaything, life.
Now I was not exactly an infant when I was set down, on a May day some fifteen years ago, in this pleasant nursery of America.

I had long since acquired the use of my faculties, and had collected some bits of experience practical and emotional, and had even learned to give an account of them.

Still, I had very little perspective, and my observations and comparisons were superficial.

I was too much carried away to analyze the forces that were moving me.