In these letters Locke took an extraordinary course:  he first made a quaint plea for the general welfare of Mr. Clarke’s little son.  “I imagine,” he wrote, “the minds of children are as easily turned this or that way as Water itself, and though this be the principal Part, and our main Care should be about the inside, yet the Clay Cottage is not to be neglected.  I shall therefore begin with the case, and consider first the Health of the body.”  Under Health he discussed clothing, including thin shoes, “that they may leak and let in Water.”  A pause was then made to show the benefits of wet feet as against the apparent disadvantages of filthy stockings and muddy boots; for mothers even in that time were inclined to consider their floors and steps.  Bathing next received attention.  Bathing every day in cold water, Locke regarded as exceedingly desirable; no exceptions were to be made, even in the case of a “puleing and tender” child.  The beneficial effects of air, sunlight, the establishment of good conduct, diet, sleep, and “physick” were all discussed by the doctor and philosopher, before the development of the mind was touched upon.  “Education,” he wrote, “concerns itself with the forming of Children’s Minds, giving them that seasoning early, which shall influence their Lives later.”  This seasoning referred to the training of children in matters pertaining to their general government and to the reverence of parents.  For the Puritan population it was undoubtedly a shock to find Locke interesting himself in, and moreover advocating, dancing as a part of a child’s education; and worst of all, that he should mention it before their hobby, LEARNING.  In this connection it is worth while to make mention of a favorite primer, which, published about the middle of the eighteenth century, was entitled “The Hobby Horse.”  Locke was quite aware that his method would be criticised, and therefore took the bull by the horns in the following manner.  He admitted that to put the subject of learning last was a cause for wonder, “especially if I tell you I think it the least part.  This may seem strange in the mouth of a bookish man, and this making usually the chief, if not only bustle and stir about children; this being almost that alone, which is thought on, when People talk about Education, make it the greater Paradox.”  An unusual piece of advice it most surely was to parents to whose children came the task of learning to read as soon as they were given spoon-food.

Even more revolutionary to the custom of an eighteenth century mother was the admonition that reading “be never made a Task.”  Locke, however, was not the man to urge a cure for a bad habit without prescribing a remedy, so he went on to say that it was always his “Fancy that Learning be made a Play and Recreation to Children”—­a “Fancy” at present much in vogue.  To accomplish this desirable result, “Dice and Play-things with the Letters on them” were recommended to teach children the alphabet; “and,” he added, “twenty other ways may be found ... to make this kind of Learning a Sport to them.”  Letter-blocks were in this way made popular, and formed the approved and advanced method until in these latter days pedagogy has swept aside the letter-blocks and syllabariums and carried the sport to word-pictures.