ABSTRACT
This chapter aims to emphasize in several places the very slight acquaintance between the little child and his past. In the mist which hides his own past from the child's consciousness, faint points of light appear and there, indistinct and fleeting. With increasing years they grow plainer, more varied and frequent, later on to combine in somewhat greater numbers, as in the remembrance of some festivity, such as a summer holiday. Memories are phenomena of consciousness which are not necessarily—like other conscious acts—apparent to the on-looker. The fact that the young child has normally but little power of remembering speech heard only once, as regards the meaning, is also of educational significance. The child's forgetfulness generally, indeed, plays into their hands, but not always, and if the recollection unexpectedly comes to life, and the child notices that there is no intention of redeeming the promise, both his feeling of happy confidence and his natural sincerity are imperilled.
