PROGRESSIVE EDUCATION
x,/
y So; ~e
PROGRESSIVE
EDUCATION,
COMMENCING WITH THE INFANT
BY MADAME NECKER DE SAUSSURE.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH :
WITH
NOTES AND AN APPENDIX
BY
MRS. WILLARD AND MRS. PHELPS.
BOSTON:
WILLIAM D. TICKNOR.
1835.
Entered according to an Act of Congress, in the year 1835.
By WILLIAM D. TICKNOR,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts
BOSTON:
WILLIAM A. HALL & COMPANY,
122, Washington-street.
CONTENTS
Preface. By Mrs. Willard,
Preface. By the Author,
Introduction,
Page
13
23
BOOK I.
Chapter I. The Design of Education, - 43
" II. Perfection should be aimed at, 58
I: III. The perfection of our nature considered, - 69
IV. Influence of character in strengthening the will, 81
V. Impulses of the will and the influence of reason, 92
VI. Influence of religious character in strengthening
the will, 102
BOOK II.
Chapter I. Means of perfecting Education, - 115
II. Birth, and the first months, 129
III. Dispositions to be cultivated the first year, - 145
IV. Commencement of the second year, 159
V. Influence of sympathy and example, - - 170
VI. Means by which children acquire language, 183
CONTENTS.
BOOK III.
Page
Chapter I. Of the habits at two years old, - . 200
II. Habit of obedience, - - ' . 207
III. Third year Activity, . . 221
IV. Progress during the third year, - - 229
V. Of the imagination at three years old, - 242
VI. Of the conscience before four years old, - 255
VII. Advantages of early development of religious
character, .... 269
VIII. Religious education of young children, - 282
" IX. Religious worship, - ... 295
APPENDIX.
Observations upon an infant during its first year. By a
mother, . . 323
The first three months, ----- 324
The infant at six months, - .... 332
The child at nine months, ... 335
From nine to twelve months, - . - 340
The child at a year old, ... - 345
PREFACE.
BY MRS. WILLARJ).
IN giving to the young mothers of my country a
translation of this excellent work of Madame Necker
de Saussure, I am happy to make an offering which
will prove highly useful to such as are desirous of
qualifying themselves for the wise and judicious fulfil-
ment of their maternal duties. I have often been told,
by my former pupils, who are now mothers, that they
found it very difficult to satisfy their own minds with
respect to the best mode of managing their little chil-
dren ; and an expression of my opinion on the subject
has been frequently requested. I rejoice that infant
education has at length been investigated by one so
competent to do it justice as the author of this volume.
In my search after the best works on education,
while in France, I owe much to the aid of Madame
Belloc ; from her I received this work ; on examining
it, I found it to be the very book so much needed by
the mother and the Infant School teacher.
Madame Necker de Saussure is the sister-in-law of
Madame de Stael, and was her intimate friend and
O PREFACE.
biographer. The two de Saussures, her father and
brother, are identified with the history of literature
and science. No woman of the age has enjoyed more
distinguished advantages for intellectual improvement
than she whose fortune it was to bear a near and inti-
mate relation to so many gifted individuals ; and she
has consecrated the rich treasures of her mind to
a noble object. Who that would be instrumental in
doing good to the world, would not choose rather to
be the author of her Progressive Education, than of the
brilliant, but seductive Corinne, of Madame de Stael,
notwithstanding the latter has been said to be " the
greatest work of the first female writer of all ages and
countries 1 " Scarcely her inferior in vigor of intellect,
original genius, or acquired talents, Madame de Saus-
sure possesses, what was wanting in the character of
her distinguished friend, fervent and devoted piety.
She is not a speculative believer, but a vital, experi-
mental Christian. Hence, with the humility of her
divine Master, she has said, " Suffer the little children
to come unto me."
With a great deal of nature and simplicity, there is
in this work much profound thought and argument.
Mothers, in order to profit by it, must be educated : it
is not written for the ignorant and uncultivated ; such
could neither comprehend its reasoning, nor profit much
by its precepts. But, at the present day, and especially
in our own country, females are so educated as to be
capable of appreciating works of a high order.
The views of Madame de Saussure upon the facul-
ties of the mind, more especially in relation to the in-
PREFACE. y
dependent agencies of the will, will be recognized by
my pupils as coinciding with my own sentiments, so
often expressed in my lectures on Mental Philosophy.
I hoped to have found leisure for adding to the work
more of my own reflections, and the results of my ex-
perience. Mrs. Phelps, who has so long aided me in the
objects to which I am devoted, has contributed towards
the Notes in the body of the work ; they may be con-
sidered as generally expressive of ideas which we hold
in common upon the subjects to which they relate.
The Appendix, containing a Mother's observations
upon her infant during its first year, will, I think,
prove of much practical utility to young mothers.
Having, myself witnessed the results of the system of
management there described, in the patience, docility,
and intelligence of the child who was the subject of it,
I am enabled to bear my testimony in its favor.
Nothing can be more pleasing to the true friend
of woman, than the sight of a well-educated female
bringing all her faculties into exercise in the perform-
ance of the appropriate duties of her sex, as mistress
of a household, as a wife and mother. To prepare the
rising generation of women for these important duties,
and to bring forward teachers to aid me in this, has
been the grand object of my life. When I see pow-
erful minds among my own sex rising up in support of
the same object, I feel my heart encouraged and my
hands strengthened to persevere. That the women of
our own country are taking a higher rank in the
scale of rational beings, is apparent, in the fact that
10 PREFACE.
frivolous conversation and pursuits are giving place
to such as are suggested by intelligence, benevolence
and piety.
NOTE. The Editors hope to present the public, ere
long, with the remaining portion of Madame de Saus-
sure's Progressive Education ; and should she pursue
the plan intimated in the following extract, we shall
lose no time in giving to our country, a translation of
the views of this able and accomplished author upon
Female Education.
Extract of a letter from Madame Necker de Saus-
sure to Mrs. Willard ; dated Geneva, July 21, 1834.
(Translated from the French.)
" Permit me to express, Madam, how much I am delighted
that my book has received the approbation of yourself and
your sister, Mrs. Phelps, so far as to induce you to translate
it. Your own works, which I have had the happiness to
read, show to what enlightened judges mine has been sub-
mitted. In my second volume, as I have treated of a greater
number of subjects than in the first, and discussed more
contested points, the chance is greater that it may not, in
all respects, accord with your ideas ; but my sentiments in
general so far harmonize with yours, that I can at least
depend upon your indulgence.
" Since my last volume of Progressive Education was
written, I have reflected much upon the education of women,
and even began a treatise upon the subject; you may
judge, therefore, how precious to me is this communication
with you. Your experience is much more extensive than my
own, which has been confined to private education. But
the difficulty of writing on this subject alarms me ; opinions
PREFACE. 11
upon the destination of women diverge so far, and are so
much under the influence of locality, that one can scarcely
hope to produce a general impression, at least if the attempt
be made to go beyond a mere common-place morality. It
is very singular, that with sentiments essentially the same,
and sustaining the common relations of wife and mother,
women of different countries, and in different ranks, so little
understand each other. The slightest diversity in custom,
or received forms, renders them strangers to each other's
hearts.
" We cannot even treat of the defects of our sex, without
seeming unjust to the women of some countries, and ap-
pearing to point out those of others ; thus, our defects are
not those of the French: if we go into Germany and Eng-
land, we shall find those from which we are free, but at
the same time qualities in which we are deficient. With
us. a woman shines by prudence and an extreme circum-
spection ; these entitle her to consideration, more than
brilliancy of mind. Americans might find me too timid in
my views of female education ; while, at home, it might be
thought I had gone too far ; not that instruction, among us,
is regarded with indifference, but it is desired only on con-
dition that it produce no movement of the soul that may
effect any change in real life. In France, tout pris de
nous, the desire to emancipate women has become disor-
derly, striking at the root of all social institutions, and
threatening the most sacred ties. At Lyons, is published
a journal, edited by females, themselves, in which the prin-
ciples are manifestly those of St. Simonisme.
c; Mr. Martin has recently published a work entitled
Education of Mothers.' At first I supposed my labor
performed ; but though I find some interesting pages in
the book, and that he requires of mothers many fine sen-
timents, still there are no definite counsels for their
guidance. Vague in religion as false in philosophy, there
only remains to the reader the pleasure of having perused
some very fine phrases.
12 PREFACE.
"With much more satisfaction I have examined two
volumes of the American Annals of Education, edited by
Mr. Woodbridge. In this work I have found excellent ad-
vice upon the religious education of women, upon the care
of health, and the development of the faculties.
" There are treasures in the soul of woman which yet
remain to be explored and brought forward. This must be
the work of an early, a thorough, and a judicious educa-
tion."
PREFACE.
NUMEROUS examples authorize, at the present day,
the successive publication of different volumes of a
work. This course seems naturally indicated, when
one of the parts forms a whole by itself, as is the
case in the present work : an important subject, that
of the moral education of early infancy, is here found,
not exhausted, indeed, but considered as fully as it
seemed to require.
In a work which has for its object the progressive
education of the whole life, this volume may be con-
sidered under a double aspect : it is a first part,
destined to be soon succeeded by a second, which
will complete what relates to infancy and it is at the
same time a separate essay ; it is the study of a period
of human existence, short, indeed, it is true, but per-
fectly distinct from every other, and replete with facts
interesting to the observer.
There exists, indeed, between this period, and the
portion of life which follows it, a line of demarcation
not arbitrarily drawn, but which belongs to the immu-
table and necessary order of the development of the
2
14 PREFACE.
individual. The child at the age of five years pos-
sesses all the intellectual faculties bestowed upon man :
some of these faculties, yet weak and little accustom-
ed to exercise, are frequently called into action by the
most frivolous motives ; and although expressed, as
yet, only by insignificant actions, they are still mani-
fested, and the child makes use of them in his own
manner.
Before the age of four years, on the contrary, the
child is a different being ; it is destitute of reflection,
one of the essential elements of human reason. Its
mind, already very active, does not consider itself, and
is unconscious of its own operations. Moreover, the
instincts of the first age are yet with him in full vigor :
its moral and physical nature are still composed, in a
great degree, of the faculties bestowed upon the first
period of life for a temporary and special object en-
dowments which we do not discover in after life.
Thus, dispositions which partake of the mysterious na-
ture of instinct, such as sympathy, and the tendency
to imitation, soon cease to be noticed, either because
they are, in truth, much diminished, or because the
new development of the faculties, with which we are
better acquainted, attracts our whole attention. Final-
ly, when the child begins to use language, it is only as
a means of external communication ; his thoughts do
not, without effort, flow in words, and he lives the
same life of sensations and images, of desires and im-
pressions, as that of animals, and newly-born infants.
From this mode of existence, so different from ours,
we infer that infancy is the only age which is clearly
separated from the periods which follow it, these being
connected to each other by inseparable gradations.
PREFACE. 15
I do not mean to be understood that the peculiarities
of the infant mind do not disappear gradually. The
period from five to twelve years is an interval of transi-
tion, during which the instincts of the child become
feeble in proportion as the faculties of the man in-
crease. But these instincts exist in the mind of the
individual, at a period when it is difficult to discover
them. If, then, we neglect to study them when they
alone prevail, we shall not distinguish them in a more
complicated existence. One of the elements of the
moral constitution of the pupil will always be unknown
by us, if we have not observed the child in the first pe-
riod of its existence.
Other considerations, still more weighty, will be join-
ed to these, if we can be convinced of two truths ; the
one, that from the conditions imposed upon the soul at
its first entrance into this world, the faculties which de-
cide the formation of the character are those which are
first manifested in the individual ; the other, that edu-
cation possesses an immense influence over the devel-
opment of these faculties. This last truth is placed
beyond a doubt by the schools recently established for
children from the age of two to six years. In these we
can judge of the happy effects that the principles by
which I have been guided, produce in application.
And if, on the one hand, the happy results which these
institutions present, give the sanction of a more extend-
ed experience to the conclusions which I have deduced
from facts observed in a narrow circle, I venture to
flatter myself, on the other hand, that these deductions
will serve to explain, in a rational manner, the success
of the method employed in these schools.
16 PREFACE.
This hope is not entirely unfounded, at least as
respects Geneva, where infant schools are at present
forming. The remembrance of M. de Saussure is yet
so vivid in his country, it is so well known that his zeal
for public instruction here was equal to that displayed
in his labors as a physician, that his daughter has
some reason to hope to be listened to, when she
speaks of education. This is one motive which has
led me to hasten the publication of a volume which
may, at this time, prove of important utility at Ge-
neva.
In an introduction containing the plan of this whole
work, I shall give some account of the views, by
which, in its progress, I have successively been influ-
enced.
While I undertook to trace the moral history of
life, in pointing out, as far as I was able, the means
of improvement which are adapted to its different ages,
I designed to pass rapidly over the years of infancy.
Impressed with the great idea that our existence
here is but the prelude to another, that our passage
through the present world is only an education for
another, I would view this idea in its various applica-
tions. Relying upon these words of Scripture, 'All
things shall work together for good to those who love
God,' my design was to show that he who will avail
himself of divine assistance, finds in every event, in
the diversified interests which contribute to unfold our
various moral faculties, the means of advancing towards
his true destination. Without presuming too much
upon the effect of my work, I have hoped to ben-
efit myself, to find, in lofty thoughts, a support, a refuge
PREFACE. 17
and consolation ; 10 derive some advantage from the
silent teachings of time, and to recommence, by my
remembrances r the work which my life has thus far
too little promoted.
At the first, my attention has been directed more to
the results of life, than to that preparation for life itself,
which should occupy the commencement of it; and the
education of infancy was presented to me as a subject
necessary, from my plan, to be noticed, but already
exhausted by the distinguished writers who have devo-
ted their thoughts to this subject.
But in examining this subject more closely, I have
found much that is new, especially with regard to the
first years of life. Philosophers have almost entirely
disregarded very young children : instructers by pro-
fession do not often have them under their care ; and
when they are with them, they too frequently regard
the future pupil as mere brute matter, destined to re-
ceive its value from them. They consider him an
ignorant being, not thinking that, in order to arrive at
the point where he is susceptible of rational instruction,
the mental constitution of the child must be entirely dif-
ferent from that of man.
Females, on the other hand, quick to seize upon the
slightest indications, and to comprehend the least in-
tentions of children, are often satisfied with understand-
ing them by sympathy. Their feeling is directed im-
mediately to practical utility ; and when a ready dis-
cernment has decided what will conduce to this, they
consider it of little importance to arrive at general re-
sults. I was myself for a long time deeply occupied
with education; but I had studied my children without
2*
18 PREFACE.
feeling that I was investigating the general principles of
infant minds : all my observations seemed confined to
the individual. The different systems of which I had ac-
quired a knowledge not being able to satisfy me, I follow-
ed the guidance -of the little experience I had gained,
and what I believed to be good sense. But as this ex-
perience became more enlarged, as more leisure afford-
ed me the opportunity to mature my reflections, I per-
ceived the effect of general laws, in the uniformity of
the phenomena presented by infancy. Perhaps, in de-
scribing them, the charm, attached to the contemplation
of this age, has led me too far. But, either by the facts
I have cited, or the conclusions deduced from them, I
have extended the subject beyond my original inten-
tion.
Without abandoning my undertaking, as it is announ-
ced in the Introduction, I have gradually changed the
proportions of it. Pressed by time, and by the ad-
vancement of the age, I have felt the necessity of
reducing the dimensions of the part which first occu-
pied most of my attention; and that \vhichvvas designed
to have formed two thirds of the work, will be little
more than one third.
The first book is devoted to tbe exposition of prin-
ciples which are applicable to every period of educa-
tion. Nothing, surely, is more important than for the
instructor to be fully acquainted with his own views,
to demand of himself, in the first place, his precise ob-
ject, since this is the best method of attaining that ob-
ject.. Yet, under these two relations, how numerous
are the reflections presented ! What a vast field of
thought opens before us, at the simple contemplation of
PREFACE. 19
that undertaking, so great, and at the same time so
common that of educating a child ! The final destina-
tion of man, the obligations imposed upon him by the
divine la\v, and the constitution of the present world,
with the qualities which may render him capable of
performing these obligations, become so many objects
of deep and anxious contemplation. And when we
consider what education is that it is designed to in-
fluence the will, to impress upon the soul characters
which will remain during life, we discover, not only
that profound study of the human mind is indispensable
to the instructor, but that he should be acquainted wilh
the order in which the moral faculties are unfolded. It
is not as an idle speculation, that such a study is pre-
sented : we see it to be the foundation, and even the
essence of the art of education.
It is unnecessary for me to say that I have merely
glanced at these great subjects. Guided by the sublime
principles of Evangelical morality, I have endeavored
to avoid all useless discussion ; in applying my princi-
ples to human life, I have taken some points as agreed
upon which are yet debated : but to support all my con-
victions by solid proofs, to resolve all difficulties, and
remove all objections, would equally have surpassed
the limits of my subject and of my powers. I have
not affected philosophic coldness, but have expressed
the feelings by which I was actuated, without exagger-
ating them, or indulging unkind expressions towards
those who differ from me, and especially without allow-
ing myself, in favor of the best objects, to allege rea-
sons which seem trivial or doubtful. If I have ventur-
ed to touch upon lofty themes, it has been because
20 PREFACE.
they were inherent to my subject, and have involunta-
rily commanded my' attention ; or they have pursued,
rather than been sought by me. However the theoretical
part of my work may be subject to criticism, I hope to
have presented ideas which may be fruitful, in useful
applications.
The second book is devoted to the study of the two
first years of life that important period, during
which education is in a degree directed by vague ideas,
since the child who does not yet speak cannot aid the
observer in discovering what passes in his mind. But
the discerning instinct of mothers, often penetrates the
obscurity which involves this tender infancy, and fur-
nishes important observations upon which to found our
reasonings.
On the contrary, the period from the age of two to
four years, the consideration of which occupies the
third book, is the most instructive season for us. Then
the new progress of the child, without having as yet
changed his moral existence, serves to reveal it to our
eyes ; we then see the peculiar nature of infancy dis-
tinctly manifested, at the very period when it is about
to disappear. The results of the facts relative to the
soul during this period and the preceding, are consid-
ered in a separate chapter ; and this concludes the
history of infancy.
Hitherto, what has been advanced is only a collec-
tion of observations, and seems not related to the prin-
cipal subject of the work, the formation of morality in
children. But, for the interest of morality itself, I
have thought it my duty to invite the instructor's atten-
tion to facts which have been the least regarded. We
PREFACE. 21
begin to feel, that to secure the advancementof educa-
tion, it is necessary to discover the physiological meth-
od ; or, in other words, to discover the laws of the moral
development of the individual. But, without pretend-
ing to understand the essential nature of the soul, we
may yet study the progress of the intellect from the
birth of the human being. And, as a being immersed
in total ignorance can attain a knowledge of the physic-
al and moral world only by degrees, and in a determin-
ed order, we very soon discover that this order decides
the development of the various faculties in the soul of
the child. It is thus that the examination of facts
always conducts to an explanation of their consequen-
ces.
Another benefit which we shall derive from the study
of the infant, will be, to teach us more properly to
estimate the endowments bestowed upon it by Provi-
dence ; qualities so adapted to its future destiny, that
a moral constitution in any respect differing from the
present, would have rendered him less susceptible of
progress. In viewing him with regard to futurity, we
see that many of his apparent defects that even his
weakness and his imperfect development, are the
effects of a wise dispensation. He has the perfection
of an ignorant being, a state the most favorable to be
instructed ; and he has also the perfection of a depend-
ent being, wholly unable to help himself, and a wonder-
ful talent for obtaining aid of others. He can excite
in us emotions of goodness, of devotion, and of con-
stant affection, which we feel for none but him : he
succeeds in inspiring us with a tender and heart-felt
pity, and yet amuses and pleases us. Too improvi-
22 PREFACE.
dent to be enslaved by his necessities, he has the
grace, sometimes the pride of independence, and when
he has received every thing at our hand, his friendship
has still a disinterested air.* The immediate work of
God, noble in view of its future destiny, and interesting
in its present form, the infant presents at the same time
a charming creation, and a perfect sketch.
* Who has not, at times, felt the irresistible power of infancy
to awaken tenderness and gentle affections ! When the heart
is sad, or seared by disappointment, it seems insensible to any
emotions but of the most gloomy and despairing kind. Now
like a beam of light glancing athwart the darkness of midnight,
does an infant's smile kindle up an involuntary cheerfulness, and
provoke the sternest features to return an answering expression.
The widowed mother, as she clasps her babe to her bosom, feels
the apathy of grief to be succeeded by a softened emotion, and
as she raises her supplications to the Father of the fatherless, is
inspired with the wish to live for her child, and the resolution to
nerve herself, for his sake, to encounter the storms of life, in a
cold and unfeeling world, where there are few to care for those
who need to be cared for. [Eo ]
I N T R O D U C T I O N .
Mr design is to represent the progress of life, and
the feelings which animate us at every period of it : I
wish to describe the changes which time produces in
us ; but this is not my only object. As the noblest
aim of the study of the human heart is to soften it, I
desire to seek the means of rendering our dispositions
more exalted and more holy, more favorable to the
tranquillity of the soul, and the display of its activity.
It is the history of the soul, especially, that I propose
to trace ; a history less different in various individuals
than that of their external condition, but of much great-
er importance. The changes which our souls experi-
ence, have for us the nature of real events. Upon the
state of the heart, depends not only our own happiness,
but also the train of events that the desire of gratifying
our inclinations may produce. The most unforeseen
determinations, are not to be ascribed to chance ; for
they have been preceded by desire.* Thus, by indu'g-
* This is a most important suggestion, and ought to be im-
pressed with great care upon the minds of every young person,
24 INTRODUCTION.
ing in certain thoughts, we unconsciously weave the
web of our future destiny. The succession of our
feelings, is the confused sketch of the drama which is
afterwards represented in our conduct.
All, then, is education in human life. Each year of
our existence is the consequence of years that precede
it, and the preparation for those which follow ; each
age has a task to perform for itself, and another in re-
lation to that which succeeds it. And if, in proportion
as we advance in life, the perspective of life itself
seems to narrow before us if it seems less necessary
to prepare for a career always diminishing, there is a
point of view the reverse of that. There is an interest
which increases with years. The less the time re-
maining to us to live, the more valuable does each mo-
ment become, in the view of the Christian. He who
aims to win the prize of the race feels his courage and
hope redouble as he approaches the goal.
Infancy, indeed, differs from other ages, in many
respects. There is a time of weakness, and inexperi-
ence, when the newly-created soul acquires its first no-
tions of things, and is brought into intercourse with an
particularly females. To the susceptibility of their hearts, and
an unrestrained license of imagination, are to be ascribed much
of the misery which many of our sex endure. Surrounded by
attentive friends, watched over by parental tenderness, and en-
joying all the refinements and luxuries which wealth can pur-
chase, many a female has been left to muse in secret over a hope-
less passion, which might have been checked in its beginning
or has been induced to marry a man in whom neither moral or in-
tellectual endowments made up the want of worldly goods. In
poverty and degradation, she must realize that by indulging in
certain thoughts, she did unconsciously weave the -web of her des
tiny. [Er.]
INTRODUCTION. 25
unknown world ; it then sustains no responsibility ; the
care of its education is not con6ded to itself : but, if
the work of education consists in the development of
the faculties, we cannot assign to it any definite period.
The mind is always capable of being enlarged, and the
heart of being softened ; even religious feeling, the
most elevated of our sentiments, has a tendency to in-
crease, by exercise. All the springs which act up-
on the child, have power with the man ; outwardly,
circumstances and events ; inwardly, those feelings
which prompt us to love and to hate, to imitate, to
hope and fear, exert a continual influence upon our
souls. How then can we assign any boundaries to the
extent of education ? The character and the mind are
constantly receiving modifications ; this is what renders
education always possible ; not only is it possible, but
unavoidable : some species of it is incessantly active :
to know if we can direct it, is the only doubtful ques-
tion.
The development of the character does not, it is
true, depend entirely either upon the will of instructors
in infancy, or upon that of the pupil at a more ad-
vanced age ; but does it follow from this that these wills
have no power ? Because we have not every thing at
our disposal, does it follow that we can influence no-
thing ? Many causes, it is true, act without our know-
ledge, and against our wishes ; but there are regular
and beneficial influences which are at our command.
It is because there is at all periods an accidental educa-
tion, that it is necessary to balance the effects of it by
one which has been premeditated.
All the power given to man in education, depends
3
26 INTRODUCTION.
upon the exercise of his will.* This power is, in my
opinion, great ; and it is for this alone that man will
always be responsible. The transient influence of
instructors should establish the durable empire of con-
science, and give a permanent direction to what is
most variable with the child, and remains fluctuating
with man the will. If, then, there exists a source,
where the will may become invigorated, whence it can
derive the assistance necessary to sustain, enlighten,
and direct it, and to reanimate it when sinking into ap-
athy, it would seem that the great object of education
is to render the access to this more easy to the human
being in the successive periods of his life.
After having described the first years of life, when
* There is a vulgar opinion prevailing among some parents,
that a child's ' will must be broken, ' as the expression is ; but it
should be understood that the icill, resolution, or firmness of pur-
pose, all of which are nearly synonymous terms, is in fact the very
stamina of the mind. It is indeed necessary that a child should
very early be taught obedience, and to know that its own wishes
are not always to he gratified. For this end, should he prove re-
fractory, punishment of some kind should be resorted to, until he
is made to submit to authority. Yet in doing this, a very young
child may be made to understand, by an affectionate, though de-
cided manner, that his own good only is intended; and thus,
though his spirit may be subdued, it will remain unbroken. It
is painful to think of the manner iu which some parents and
teachers govern the young and tender minds committed to their
fostering care. Insult and ignominy are heaped upon the de-
fenceless being, as ungovernable passion or mistaken views of
discipline may prompt, and either a sullen obstinacy, a morbid
melancholy, or a servile abjectness of spirit, takes the place of that
ingenuous frankness, that playfulness of disposition and noble
independence which are so lovely and interesting in the young,
and which are far from being incompatible with a character sub-
mitted to a judicious discipline. [Eo.]
INTRODUCTION. 27
education, with some slight differences, is the same for
all children, I shall revert to the peculiar character
which should be given to the early education of fe-
males. Indeed, it will be their education that I shall
principally consider in the whole course of the work.
I can more easily speak of them, both because I know
them better, and because the contemplation of their
destiny is better suited to my design. The domestic
relations hold a more important place in their existence;
and hence they are more subject to the influence of nat-
ural events. As they embrace no particular profession
as they are neither merchants, soldiers, or magis-
trates, the natural dispositions are more apparent in
them; they are daughters, wives, and mothers, more
than men are sons, fathers or husbands. Observe the
young female, desirous of rendering herself lovely,
she who is on the eve of marriage the wife, jealous
of her husband's affections the mother, solicitous for
her children and you will find the same sentiments in-
fluencing the conduct, and acting upon the heart, from
Lapland to Peru, from the slave to the princess. The
difference of age are also more marked in females. A
man who has embraced a particular profession, goes
on, during his whole life, through nearly the same rou-
tine, and the uniformity of his actions affects also the
state of his feelings. All the interests of woman, on
the contrary, change with years ; her position in socie-
ty changes also, and it becomes more easy to mark the
influence of time upon her life.
Another reason which leads me to address myself to
females, is because they will listen to what I say.
Having no public profession, they usually mark out.
28 INTRODUCTION.
more or less judiciously, a sort of moral career ; each
one conceives a certain ideal excellence, which she
seeks to reach, and by which she directs her course.
Her thoughts and opinions are little concealed. If she
is ignorant of many things, she at least does not boast
of knowing every thing ; and the want of positive
knowledge is more than compensated by the desire of
acquiring it. The education of her children which de-
volves upon her, leads her to aim at what is best for
them and for herself: all advice upon this sacred sub-
ject is gratefully received ; and the observations that
she is continually making, as a mother, increase her
taste for mental analysis.
But, if I more particularly address myself to women,
I would not be thought to do it in an exclusive manner.
A religious point of view renders the condition of the
heart important also with men. As Christians, the do-
mestic relations become to them of great importance :
increase of years gives to life a new character of grav-
ity ; and the great idea of a future existence, causes
the distinctions of wealth and rank to vanish.
The tendency of this work will, I trust, be religious :
it is not a book of mere amusement, since the observa-
tion of life, such as it is in reality, is presented here ;
and the spirit of Christianity, it is hoped, pervades it,
although its doctrine be not frequently alluded to. Not,
however, that I regard the doctrine as indifferent. If
the devotion of the heart is of the first importance, the
religion of it is not the least essentially founded upon a
belief, and the nature of this belief influences that of
devotion itself, and of a multitude of other opinions.
But, sincerely attached to Christianity as our illustrious
INTRODUCTION. 29
reformers* have viewed it, I consider here its effects,
rather than their cause. I appeal to that feeling which
ought to be common among Christians, to that bound-
less charity which esteems the name of tolerance to-
wards brethren; implying, as it does, the existence of
something wrong to be tolerated, as weak, and even
injurious : I appeal to that charity, the exercise of
which, though sometimes difficult, is indispensably ne-
cessary, and which consists in allowing to all tbe-right
which we claim, to think and judge for themselves.
This varied work, the author has not the vanity to
suppose will, in a religious point of view, prove in-
structive to persons eminent for their piety. These
seem to me too elevated to need assistance from me.
They have access to a higher source than human coun-
sel ; and even of human counsel, of a kind better than
my book can give. I address myself especially to a
class unhappily much more numerous ; to those who,
without being ranked among the adversaries of religion,
do not comprehend the Christian language, who do not
read the holy Scriptures, f cr those books which give a
* The circumstance of Madame De Sausure's belonging
to the Protestant Church, renders the tone of her work more
in unison with the feelings of most Christians among us than il
probably would otherwise have been. It is true that the pious
and amiable Fenelon wrote much that is delightful to the heart
of the Christian, much that may seem to improve the female sex;
but still there is interwoven with his sentiments something of
that peculiar mysticism which belongs to the Romish church,
and in his advice to young women, with a low estimate of female
abilities, appears also a superstitious adherence to the contracted
tenets of his church. [Eo.]
t It must be here recollected by (he reader that the author
writes in a country where infidelity, and the influence of the
3*
30 INTRODUCTION.
faithful interpretation of them. Ignorant as they are
of the most important resources, the difficulty is to
make them feel their need of them. We scarcely
Romish Church have both tended to the disuse of the Scriptures.
It is scarcely possible for us to realize the ignorance of the Word
of God which prevails in many parts of those countries denom-
inated Christian ; thick darkness, with respect to every thing
spiritual, broods over the souls of millions who are within the
very sound of the gospel, and superstition and scepticism seem to
unite to hold the soul in bondage. Take for example one instance
among thousands ; a girl of eighteen, who has recently arrived
in this country, from Catholic Ireland ; quick in her conceptions,
intelligent in every thing which is placed under her observation,
she is wholly ignorant of all which the Bible teaches, except in
those particulars where her priest has thought proper to enlighten
her, in order to secure his own influence. In attempting to
teach her to read, the word Noah occurred. She was asked who
Noah was ; the answer was she did not know. ' Have you never
heard of the flood by which God once destroyed the earth ? ' She
had not ' Did you never go to school in your own country ?
' I did not, but I learned a little to read of a good Protestant lady,
who told me to come to her house ; she had a school for the
poor children of the place, and wished me to go to it. I went to
the priest and on my knees, asked him to permit me to go to this
school of Lady C ; he said, No, I must not be taught by any but
himself, and that it was sinful for me to learn, especially from the
Protestants.'
The same girl was for some time afraid to attend family prayers,
because her priest had told her that there was no religion out of
her own church, and that heretics and all who had any thing to
do with them, would be eternally miserable. She also suffered
much dejection because she had not access to a priest to whom
Ehe might confess ; for, according to their faith, Roman Catholics
can only hope for forgiveness and favor from God, through the
intercessions of their priests ; of course, when cut ofFfrom inter-
course with them, their souls are exposed to eternal perdition. How
blessed is that religion which teaches us that none can forgive
sins, but God only, and that his ear is ever open to the cry of the
penitent ! [ED.]
INTRODUCTION. 31
know how to effect this ; for, so long as we are not able
to give them, in the only language which they under-
stand, a taste for divine truths, they will be like those
barbarous people who never emerge from their condi-
tion, because they do not conceive themselves to be
deficient.
But I chiefly address myself to those whom I regard
more immediately as my equals ; I speak to those who
are impressed with the truth, the beauty, and primary
importance of Christianity, but wish to connect it more
closely with the various objects of interest, which we
cannot, and ought not to banish from human existence.
These, feel that religion is every thing, or nothing;
that if it does not become an absorbing principle, it is
an empty profession; but they find a difficulty in making
universal application of such a principle, so numerous
are the objects in this world, which, in the course of
life, have a lawful, and even a useful place, and yet
seem foreign to religion.* The education of the heart
may present the means of doing this, since, considered
with regard to religious perfection, there is no action
or occupation indifferent ; every thing is injurious or
useful, every thing retards or favors our progress. We
How often does the heart of the true Christian sink, in view
of the trivial concerns which demand his attention, and even
duties which seem to have a deadening influence upon his piety !
but such is the state in which our Heavenly Father has been
pleased to place man, for the very purpose of trying him. If eve-
ry thing incited him to piety, where would be the Christian's
warfare ? But the real spirit of religion inwrought in the soul
will not only carry us safely through all temptations, but turn
them into occasions for spiritual improvement and growth in
grace. [Eo.]
32 INTRODUCTION.
should observe the effect of objects upon us, instead of
considering them as they are in themselves; and, re-
pelling every thing which removes us from God, we
should seek to approach him by every pure and eleva-
ted means.
Having spoken of the design of this work, I proceed
to state its plan.
It treats of premeditated* education ; that is to say,
the education which aims to take advantage of the in-
fluence of men and things, for the perfecting of the in-
dividual. This education should continue during the
whole life, and only change its agent : although this
may be different, the work itself remains the same, and,
from birth to death, there is always a subject to be per-
fected.
Considered in this light, life is naturally divided into
three periods.
During the first, which embraces the period of infan-
cy, education is directed by minds superior to those of
the individual who is to be acted upon.
During the second, which includes the period of ad-
olescence or youth, and that portion of it, which the
law subjects to parental authority, the pupil should more
and more aid in his own education.
Finally, during the third period, the individual hav-
ing become the arbiter of his own destiny, is himself
called to labor for his own perfection.
The first of these divisions of human life, is that
*The expression ' premeditated education' seems rather foreign
to our idiom, and yet when something the opposite of accidental
education is meant, as is here the case, it is difficult to substitute
a better. [Ec.]
INTRODUCTION. 33
where a writer on the subject finds his course the most
distinctly traced. In considering infancy, be cannot do
otherwise, than to address himself to the instructors
who have undertaken the direction of it ; and accord-
ingly education, properly speaking, or the cares of which
children are the object, become the subject of which he
should treat. But this subject would be too vast,
either for ray plan, or my abilities, should I attempt to
consider it in its whole extent. Obliged to limit my-
self, it will chiefly be the formation of the character
which I shall principally consider. I shall not dilate
upon methods of teaching, but in the general views
upon the development of the mind which I shall have
occasion to offer, shall especially consider the moral ef-
fect of the various occupations and different studies
which are commonly pursued.*
Yet the rules which I have imposed upon myself in
this work, required, from the commencement, an inves-
tigation of .the human heart more profound than that of
which infancy has heretofore been the object. Books
upon education ordinarily contain the history of the
thoughts and experiments of the instructor relatively to
his pupil, rather than the history of the pupil himself,
and of what passes in his mind. The latter is precisely
what I have endeavored to discover. After having, in
some general considerations, indicated the views which
the instructor ought to take on the subject of his duties,
I devote my attention to the child ; I seek to know
* The author here refers more particularly to what she designs
to do in her future volumes on progressive education, than in this,
which is devoted to a consideration of the first years of life. [D.]
34 INTRODUCTION.
his feelings during the entire period when an imperious
necessity subjects him to our power ; and this examin-
ation leads me to infer that the majority of the im-
pressions attributed tcJ caprice and unreasonableness,
in infancy, have a higher origin. The conditions to
which the soul is subjected upon its entrance into this
world, furnish, 1 think, a sufficient explanation for
many feelings which infants experience; and I also re-
cognize in them the effect of a dispensation eminently
favorable to the development of the noblest faculties.
I then attempt to describe the moral constitution of the
child at different ages, and deduce the practical results
which these observations clearly present. This order,
the most natural of all, is not however the only one
which I have observed. Certain dispositions should
be cultivated before others, either because they are fu-
gitive, or because they may facilitate the whole work of
education. Principles must be established before con-
sequences are deduced from them. There is then a
moral and logical connexion, independent of the order
of facts, but not less essential to follow.
After observation and its consequences, there will
generally follow the exposition of a truth which seems
particularly applicable to the age I am considering.
When the changes produced by years shall lead to
corresponding changes in the consequences of this truth,
I shall present it under a new aspect. Thus we shall
see the same principles differently developed in the suc-
cessive periods of education.
This blending of observations, of theory and the ap-
plication of their results to infancy, presents great diffi-
culties in execution. Arising from it, are too frequent
INTRODUCTION. 35
and strong contrasts, and too sudden transitions. Noth-
ing is apparently so frivolous and trifling, as details con-
cerning little children, as the whole mass of facts pre-
sented by that age ; nothing, on the contrary, is so great,
so difficult, or so obscure, as the study of the faculties
of the soul. Yet how can we separate these two ele-
ments of education? Shall we attach sufficient impor-
tance to the form, often very insignificant, under which
certain faculties are presented in the child, if we do not
consider them in relation to their future importance?
Should we fail of seeing the future in the present ;
the ripened wheat, in the blade of grass ? Should we
not even keep in view the point from which we set
out, and that to which we would attain, infancy and
manhood ? If the apparent changes of tone and of ob-
ject seem, in a literary point of view, less striking than
a different method, this must not tempt to deviate from
what I consider essential to the subject, and most im-
poi tant to consider. Perhaps with a superior tact I
should have avoided these dissonances ; but to neglect
to say things which I believe useful, I consider a great-
er wrong than to state them in an imperfect manner.
When the pupil has arrived at the period of adoles-
cence, we see him beginning to aid in the work of his
own education. He comprehends and adopts the best
design with regard to it; he approves the means of pro-
moting it, and chooses or appoints them. His parents
preserve all their right over him, but by degrees they
lose their power ; their authority would no longer ex-
ert a salu:ary influence, if they were obliged to use it.
All should be confidence at first, then complete and
familiar persuasion. Their moral influence requires
36 INTRODUCTION.
the more careful management, as it will very soon di-
minish, and as this period often gives a direction to the
whole life.
It is not easy to employ judiciously, this precious
and fragile remnant of a decaying power. Observation
is often rendered useless, by sudden changes which are
produced in the character of the pupil. We know him
no longer,* and he has little knowledge of himself.
He is sincere, but every moment deceived, both with
regard to himself and every thing about him. His ar-
dent and flexible imagination always places what he be-
lieves to be, in the place of what really is ; the combat
of hopes with possibilities is as yet little felt by him,
and he lives in an atmosphere of illusions that nothing
has yet dissipated. Ignorant of the extent or limits of
his faculties, of what his will can, and what it cannot
accomplish, he is by turns confident and desponding.
While this state of fluctuation still continues, and the
youth is assailed upon all sides by new passions or
temptations, the hand which had guided him seems
insensibly withdrawn, and he is often cast alone amidst
* How true is this observation ! how often is the parent to whom
the heart ofhis child had been as an open page, suddenly dismay-
ed by finding its inscriptions concealed from his inspection, and
the being whom he had led and influenced without the appearance
of opposition, bounding from his grasp, and gone, whither he can-
not follow him ! That is, his affections, desires and pursuits seem
changed, and an impenetrable veil now shrouds the internal pro-
cesses of thought which are going on. The parent must, in sea-
son, foresee that his passive child will become the self-centred
man, and so wisely improve and wield power, while in his pos-
session, that the man shall recognize as his friend, the guardian of
the child. [En.]
INTRODUCTION. 37
the dangers of the world. Yet such is the ascendancy
of principles which may have been inculcated by a good
education, such is that of the pure and generous feel-
ings which may have been easily inspired at an earlier
age, that not only shall the young man escape the dan-
gers which surround him, but form anew those virtuous
resolutions, the accomplishment of which will occupy
his future life.
The variety of interesting objects which rise to the
view of youth is so great, there is such a* crowd of new
feelings and thoughts, new ideas and impressions, that
it is extremely difficult to analyze and describe the
condition of the subject of education at this period.
Whatever else I may omit in this limited sketch, 1
shall at least consider the essential object, religion, and
shall endeavor to show how important it is, during that
short interval, which, with females, separates infancy
from marriage, to give to future mothers principles of
piety.
The remaining part of the work will consider the suc-
cessive occasions naturally presented to adults to pro-
mote their own perfection. The young man is hardly
released from the yoke of parental authority, when a
strong feeling leads him to resign at least a part of his
liberty, in uniting the destiny of another to his own.
Until this period, his only concern had been for himself.
The object of the devotion of his parents, he had en-
tered into their views, while he attended to his own in-
terests, and labored to store his intellect with knowl-
edge, and his soul with virtues. With the feeling of
an artist, he had viewed his own character as a work
which he was to accomplish, and considered that noble
4
38 INTRODUCTION.
and generous qualities were to be its crowning orna-
ment; but self was always first in his thougbts. He
desired that good should be done, but that this good
should be effected by himself, and considered particular-
ly the part which he had performed upon every oc-
casion. Hence that species of self-conceit which so
often renders young persons disagreeable.
It is impossible without a strong moral power for
nature to be subdued, and the bonds of selfishness un-
loosed. Such a resolution is often reserved to the
power of paternal love, and perhaps this feeling only is
capable of entirely effecting it.* By means of this
sentiment alone, man learns to know true affection, that
entire consecration of soul which does not expect a re-
turn equal to what it gives, which looks for no happi-
ness like that which it would procure for the object of
its attachment. At this period, I shall again direct my
attention to children, not as being themselves the ob-
ject of education, but as educating, so to speak, their
parents, because they place them in a situation where
9very interest and every feeling concur to make them
sensible of the necessity of morality, and of its most
certain source, religion.
Then terrestrial existence has received its most ex-
tensive development, when the soul has formed its
greatest number of relations with other beings. An
useful member of society, still a son, and already a
fither, man perceives the various branches of his duty
* Qucre. Is parental love more generous, devoted or self-sac-
rificing, than that which subsists between the sexes in its highest
and purest form of conjugal affection ? [Eo.]
INTRODUCTION. 39
to be widely extended ; and he animates a sphere of
activity proper to the nature of his faculties. Yet he
soon discovers that these faculties have their limits.
Illusions are dissipated by his being perpetually brought
into contact with real things ; his external influence is
increased, as a certain ardor diminishes ; the repetition
of the scenes of the world extinguishes the vivacity of
his impressions, and his interest in life for himself,
somewhat abated, passes more and more into that of
his children ; and upon them his imagination fixes with
new hopes and new illusions.
But these children, in the course of their life, do not
fully satisfy his expectation ; they may very soon stray
from home, and at last become entirely separated. It
is the same with a thousand objects of lively interest;
the esteem and gratitude of others, or some good which
we had hoped to effect. Every thing decays, is with-
ered, or fades in the distance. We perceive that af-
fairs move on without us, and we become detached from
others and from ourselves.
But the pious soul, possesses more than the compen-
sation for the loss of the fascinating charms and illu-
sions of youth. In such an one, the great sense of duty
survives ah 1 , and gives its possessor an enjoyment and
activity independent of worldly thoughts and objects.
The invisible world appears, in proportion as the visi-
ble world vanishes from his sight, and his hopes rest
upon the only Being who can never deceive him. A
greater degree of elevation and of tranquillity, and a
more just appreciation of objects, communicate to him
a new and entirely different species of greatness. He
now understands why he was sent into this earth, and
the plan of human life is unfolded to his understanding.
40 INTRODUCTION.
He perceives that, placed upon the earth in order
that his faculties should be expanded, he is not destin-
ed to remain connected to the objects which have
served to unfold them. His new powers aspire to a
new exercise. The understanding would be elevated
to a higher contemplation than that of terrestrial objects,
and that ardent affection which had been called forth
by imperfect creatures, now seeks to fix itself upon the
only perfect Being ; thus his development is not sus-
pended ; his advancement, though less apparent, is more
real, and less liable to interruptions.
His contemplative faculties gain more than his active
powers seem to have lost, and his higher destination
may already be manifested in this life. Thus, in old
age a more entire disinterestedness, a more constant
serenity, an undefinable something of wise, tranquil,
and heavenly, seem to surround his venerable brow
with the anticipated glory of immortality. Thus are
exemplified those beautiful words of Scripture, ' As the
outward man decays, the inner man is renewed.'
It is indeed a strong proof of our immortality that
this principle of advancement always continues to exist
in our soul. And as the action of this principle is ne-
cessarily arrested in advanced life only by the decay of
corporeal organs, that is to say, by an obstacle which
may be presented at any other age, it is clear that the
state of decline towards the close of life, is entirely un-
connected with the nature of the soul, and that it is no
argument against the possibility of an eternal progress
in the extent of its faculties.
It is true, this progress demands the concurrence of
our own will. Those who do not penetrate beyond the
INTRODUCTION. 41
exterior of things, remain during life occupied with
vain appearances, and education has not in them ac-
complished its design. Time not only fails to elevate,
but it corrupts them. When this is the case, there will
be a perfection of selfishness instead of devout and holy
sentiments. Then, the heart becomes more and more
withered, and the desires more and more debased the
personal happiness to which the egoist* had attached
every thing escapes from him, since he has become in-
sensible to the noblest enjoyments, and no others con-
tinue. For him, old age is truly desolate. To his ter-
rified imagination death seems indeed the king of ter-
rors, and perhaps even more appalling than annihilation:
but it is painful to dwell upon such a picture.
* Egoist from ego 7, has no synonime in English. It means
one occupied with self, hence egoisme, selfishness. [Eo.]
4*
PROGRESSIVE EDUCATION.
CHAPTER I.
THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION.
" To desire virtue for the pleasure it affords, is to fall into epicu-
rianism." FENELON.
To bring up a child, is to place it in a situation to ac-
complish, in the best manner possible, the destination of
its life. But what is the general destination of human
life? Upon the answer to this question, evidently depends
the entire direction of education. We are far from having
determined this direction, when we say that education has
for its end the development of the faculties; this is its
work, rather than its end.
Education does develop the faculties : if it proposed to
itself nothing else than to give to the pupil the means of
existing here below, it would still develop them. At
Senegal, as in England, certain qualities are cultivated .
but what qualities do they favor with the preference ? In
what sense will be that increase which they would always
give to the human faculties ? And as the least difference
of proportion in the elements of which we are formed, in-
fluences the nature of our moral constitution, it is neces-
44 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION.
sary to be acquainted with the destination of a person, in
order to decide what he ought to do.
The ancients considered happiness the end of human
existence. Supreme felicity, was presented to them under
forms, sometimes noble, sometimes more or less sensual ;
but an idea of seeking it has always existed. Even in our
own age the attempt is made to revive this kind of philos-
ophy. Under the equivocal name of utility, some pretend
even to consider the desire of happiness the foundation of
morality. But the prominent and sublime feature of
Christianity, is to have set before man a more elevated
object than earthly felicity.
What says the Christian religion in its sacred language ?
It tells us that, with divine assistance, man can in this life
begin to revive in his soul the effaced image of the Crea-
tor ; and that if he complies with the conditions of the gos-
pel, conditions whose performance has a constant tenden-
cy to purify his heart, the great atonement offered for his
offences, ensures him eternal salvation, or a union with
God in another life. This doctrine is only perfection
promised as a reward to those who seek to perfect them-
selves.
An order of ideas so elevated belongs naturally to the
source from, whence it is derived. We could not ask
more from a divine revelation ; and we ought not to expect
less. What is perhaps most astonishing, is, that so many
persons of superior talents, virtuous characters, and noble
souls as have in all ages honored humanity, have not con-
sidered that to assign to man happiness for the sole object
of his existence upon earth, was to corrupt the moral sen-
timent in his heart. Indeed, all the attempts to identify
felicity and virtue, have not deceived mankind. Neither
the noble fiction of the Stoics, that vice alone is an evil,
and that grief is not one ; nor the less elevated assertion
THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 45
of the Utilitarian*, that our duty is always conformed to
our interest, can sustain examination. However philoso-
phers may attempt to elevate happiness and lower moral-
ity, there is always a difference, often an opposition to the
ideas which they would confound. Reason, experience,
cool reflection, the emotions of the heart, all tell us that
to satisfy conscience, it is often necessary to renounce the
idea of being happy ; they tell us, that if unhappiness is
inevitably attached to vice, happiness is not, in this life, al-
ways the reward of virtue.
It would seem, that such philosophers have taken the
means for the end. The desire of happiness is one of
the motives which leads us to develop our faculties, and
by which we advance towards the true end of our exist-
ence. But to understand one of the causes of our actions,
is not to know our final destination. A person ignorant
of the use of a watch, who should attentively regard the
interior of one, might comprehend its mechanism; he might
conceive where resides the moving force, and how it pro-
duces action ; but would he know that this complicated
work has for its object the measure of time? This is the
secret of the inventor, and a person unacquainted with his
views would not discover it.
Thus should we pronounce upon the end of human life,
while limiting ourselves to consider the mechanism of our
actions. But if we view the result to which the course of
life will bring us, we see that the supposed end is not ac-
complished happiness is not obtained.
And, moreover, this is only one of the causes of our ac-
tions. Who can deny that the love of right is also a feel-
ing natural to man that justice and truth seem his ele-
ment 1 What being is so abandoned of Heaven, as not to
feel under a moral obligation, as not to know that in this
world he has duties to perform ? This is truly a law of
46 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION.
the soul, which is always admitted by the reflecting mind,
which, though we may transgress, we dare not deny its
obligation. The other law is, so to speak, only a phys-
ical propensity, like gravitation in dead matter. It is a
force which acts upon our senses, upon those of our incli-
nations which are at their service ; while the liberty, and
glory of man, consists in the power of resisting this im-
pulsion.
But why should AVC weary ourselves to lay a foundation
for morality, by proving its necessity ? Morality ! a uni-
versal basis which all suppose, upon which everything
rests, without which there would exist, neither society, lan-
guage, or human beings. What logic is in reasoning,
what are the mathematics in the exact sciences, morality
is in the system of our existence : primitive truth, co-eter-
nal with God, the expression of his infinite perfections, it
is manifested in the works of his hand. Man has received
its impress ; its features disfigured, but ineffaceable, al-
ways appear in him, notwithstanding his vices, his wan-
derings, and his false systems. Thus, when Christianity
shows him the moral law, most excellent, most holy, and
most severe, and at the same time most merciful, it is no
sooner offered to his view, than he thinks not of it as a
discovery, but recognizes it as the law written upon his
own heart.
If we descend from this height, we shall find that com-
mon sense commands us not to propose felicity for our
object, since we know not what it is. The end and the
road which leads to it are equally unknown, and the very
idea of happiness is wholly indefinite. The ancients were
never able to agree with regard to the nature of the supreme
good ; and perhaps it is not in the power of man to define
it. Reason tells us what it ought to be rather than what
ji really is. Imagination, more free in its flight, cannot
THE DESIGN OF EDTTCATION. 47
even figure it to itself, with any permanence ; and when
it would represent it, a sort of insipidity is attached to its
creations. Experience, so instructive, teaches nothing de-
cisive with regard to it ; for what do facts tell us ? That
with every imaginable advantage, a man may yet be very
much to be pitied, if he does not possess a certain thing
called contentment of mind ; but that is to say, that to be
happy, we must be happy. So that when we wish to de-
fine happiness, we are always obliged to have recourse to
synonymous terms.
If we express ourselves with a severity, which is not
much allowed in ordinary usage, we shall perhaps find
that there is something false and contradictory in the idea
which we are obliged to form of happiness. That it be a
situation free from trouble, we do not say ; but, since a
desire not satisfied is a trouble which the imagination can
magnify at its will, we are obliged to say that it is a state
where all our wishes are realized. But, this state would
in time become very tedious. There would then be no
motive for action, and our powers would remain dormant.
We have faculties which require to be exercised, and the
office of imagination is to create some desire capable of
calling them into action. We are formed, then, to possess
desires and wishes; this is for us the state of moral health.
Our souls flow forth in wishes, as the sap of a vigorous
tree extends itself to the branches. There is no happiness
without activity, no activity without an end; and whoever
desires an object, desires that which he has not yet ob-
tained. Supreme earthly felicity would then be a state in
which we want something, which is absurd. *f"
But if this word has not an absolute sense, it takes one
by comparison. Our condition can be improved : the
feeling of existence can be rendered more animated and
more agreeable. When does this take place 1 It is when
J
48 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION.
we believe ourselves to be approaching towards the ac-
complishment of a desired object ; it is when the moral
feeling is kept alive by hope. The most desirable objects
of that hope contain in themselves the germ of others ;
they transport the thought beyond their possession. The
learned are intent upon discovering some truth which
shall throw light upon a more general truth ; the charita-
ble man sees in the good which he at present dispenses
the commencement of a much greater good. There is al-
ways a future in the enjoyments which answer our expec-
tations. If it is otherwise, the pleasure of having obtained
them does not repay for the trouble of seeking them.
Happiness, such as we can conceive as existing on
earth, is not then a fixed situation; it is a progress; it is a
state in which a mild and regular excitement is sustained
in us by hope. When we advance towards the accom-
plishment of a well-chosen end, we enjoy in anticipation
the moment of its arrival, and at last have the real enjoy-
ment of this moment. But if there does not proceed from
that some other interest, some new aliment for the activi-
ty of the soul, our situation is not much improved.
The art of being happy, is then the art of dispensing
hope through our whole life, The most enviable situation
is that in which we have prospectively a succession of
ends, all so accessible that we can proceed with calmness
and confidence, but of which the most distant are the most
worthy of our desires. We then seem to lose none of our
steps ; we support cheerfully the fatigues of our voyage,
and the future is presented to our view under ' a smiling
and favorable aspect.
It is to be remarked, that the greater part of the occu-
pations of life are formed after such an idea. We see in
them an increasing progression, in such goods as riches,
esteem, glory, and power, which deserve the name of
THE DESIGN OF EDVCATION. 49
goods, provided they are not esteemed beyond their proper
value. And when these occupations are in subordination
to the most elevated of all vocations, to that which offers
the greatest of all possible advantages of progression, the
Christian vocation, they undoubtedly present the elements
of happiness. But such occupations offer only precarious
compensations, and are not open to all, especially to fe-
males ; and as physical nature often proceeds in an in-
verse progression, passing from evil to evil and from deg-
radation to degradation, it is of infinite importance for the
human imagination, which is prone to anticipation to fig-
ure to itself a succession of hopes.
But if we would obtain contentment, we must not per-
haps have happiness in view. Those who, in pursuing
their various occupations, have gathered in their journey
through life all the happiness which it can afford those, I
say, have not proposed happiness as their end. They as-
pired to some object more precise, more definite, to which,
if it had been necessary, they would have sacrificed hap-
piness itself. It is thus that they proceed on their path-
way through life. Not only is the search for happiness
illusory, but it retards us in the pursuit of what is valu-
able,
In fact, the impossibility of forming to ourselves a clear
idea of happiness, is the reason that our imagination sub-
stitutes pleasure in its stead. We represent it to ourselves
as valuable, notwithstanding its fugitive nature: there are in
the immense treasures of nature and of art, many things
calculated to delight the senses and the heart of man; but
unfortunately, these objects are not always within our
reach, and when they are, the pleasure they afford is ev-
anescent, or themselves are perishable. Then the desires
most difficult to satisfy, are the most inconstant, The
great rewards of perseverance are lost, and we at last be-
come disgusted with every thing.
5
50 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION.
Besides, the pursuit of happiness renders us more sensi-
ble to the evils of life ; since there is a peculiar bitterness
in disappointment, inversely proportioned to what we ex-
pected. The habit of referring every thing to self, of con-
sulting our own desires, is to nourish egoism, that unjust
master who is never satisfied with the exertion we make to
serve him, and who thus disturbs the whole of our exist-
ence. Nothing of an earthly nature, when closely con-
sidered, can fully satisfy the soul. The way to increase the
griefs and diminish the pleasures of life, is to keep an
account current of both.
These considerations are, however, insufficient, and he
who should limit himself to them would fail in justice to
the subject. If the search for happiness is idle and vain,
it is not for that alone that we should renounce it. We
do not condemn it as a road which leads to evil, but as a
road which, if it does lead to some good ought not to be
followed. The principle which holds duty in subordina-
tion to utility, is bad in itself, independently of the conse-
quences which result from it. The will of God, or, in
other words, the moral law, ought not to occupy a second-
ary place in our heart ; it claims unbounded empire, and
although it be true that we find it our interest to submit to
this law, yet we ought not to give this as the motive of
our obedience.
Let us rely upon the disposition of the supreme direct-
or ; he has not neglected the care of our happiness. The
objects necessary to our preservation and enjoyment, have
been spread with profusion throughout the universe : the
inclinations which lead us to these objects are deeply root-
ed in our very constitution. Involuntarily, we desire
pleasure, and terrestrial joys : we ought to possess in the
will a counterpoise to all these instincts. Otherwise, we
should be incapable of resisting them. If I pursue hap-
THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 51
piness, from an instinct of my nature, when it is evidently
contrary to the spirit of the moral law, am I guilty?
It is said, I know, that for the desire of happiness mere-
ly, it is often wise to sacrifice the present to the future.
It is, surely, a very good thing to counsel us to prudence ;
but without relation to duty, prudence is a quality of
no moral value, and is often an obstacle to good as well
as to evil. Should we ever know remorse, if we had only
to reproach ourselves with having neglected our own grat-
ifications, or of having made too low an estimate of the
value of pleasure? Does not an unconquerable feeling
tell us that our interest is the only thing which we have
a right to sacrifice ? *
Those who wish 'to give to the system of utility, a char-
acter of grandeur and elevation which it does not possess,
say, that it is a question of general good, and recommend
morality, because it is advantageous to society. It is well
to recommend it, but the means of enforcing its observance
fail altogether in this doctrine. Once suffer the principle
of utility to be, as they would have it, substituted for con-
science, and how can we expect an individual to sacrifice
himself for the public good ? They may say, that the in-
terest of each individual is conformed to that of society :
but if we do not believe it, if even, setting conscience aside,
we have frequent reason not to believe it, why shall we
submit ourselves to their judgment? They may speak to
us of duty ; but if they have set aside conscience, who
will listen, or obey them? No law, but the moral law,
* It is certainly questionable how far we have a right to sacrifice
ourselves. God has given to each of his great family the care of
one being, that is, of himself and if he neglect this one, or inflict
upon him unnecessary pain, or deny him reasonable gratifications,
is he not unfaithful to his trust ? To have right, as well as to do
right, seems to be the duty of each individual. [Ec.]
52 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION.
proceeding from God, can be imposed upon us. Howev-
er imperfect be our nature, an equivocal rule is always
repugnant to it. Man is weak, inconsistent, and corrupt,
but he has nevertheless an elevated idea of virtue, and if
the divine light is little manifested in his conduct, we do
see it shine forth in the loftiness of his conceptions.
Is it then true, as is pretended, that the two opinions up-
on the end of human life, apparently so contrary, are, in
reality only the same opinion, and that they both have
happiness for their final end ? Is it true that those who
have for their object virtue, or perfection, only prefer one
kind of enjoyment to another ? It is always easy to con-
found things ; but it appears to me that those who reason
thus, have not been close observers of human nature.
Without dwelling upon the grand examples which his-
tory affords, without citing those devoted heroes who have
had no other prospect than suffering, no other hope for
themselves than death, I would say, that the attentive ex-
amination of what passes even in our own souls will lead
us to another conclusion.
I do not apprehend that when a person enters upon a
career of painful duties, he forms to himself, clearly, one
joy in the future. He submits to an obligation without
appeal; he obeys an imperious law, without thinking
whether any happiness will ensue. The calm region of
duty is superior to that of hopes and fears ; there are not
felt those fluctuations, which are the effect of the unequal
appreciation of pains and pleasures ; all is constant, abso-
lute, and of an enduring nature : it is not the enjoyments
of virtue, which the good seek, but virtue ; it is not the
consolations of religion that they desire, but God himself,
and in conformity to His will. This region which seems
so elevated, is yet accessible to souls which are strangers
to all the refinements of philosophy and learning, while
THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 53
that in which a person can enjoy the sacrifice of himself,
is much less accessible ; for, to find a charm in the idea of
self-devotion, requires a kind of elevation rarely found
among men, and inconstant even in those who are suscep-
tible of experiencing it The great and sublime emotions
excited by the most elevated sentiments, do not fall to the
share of all mortals ; age weakens them, misfortunes de-
stroy them : they may be the reward, they are not the
pure, and unalterable essence, of attachment to our duty.
In this world such sentiments are connected with enthusi-
asm ; in heaven they will be calm and lasting.
We must now return to the double nature of man. The
contradictory results which are offered in the complex
study of the human heart, can never be explained, if we
do not admit that we are actuated by more than one mo-
tive And since in the physical world all is opposition
of forces, why should we expect to find in the moral world
but one principle ? There are hi us two laws, as St. Paul
has said ; * our feelings, experience, and reason, bear wit-
ness to the same. While some instincts, necessary per-
haps hi the physical order, but blind, and urging us for-
ward in pursuit of pleasure, develop our faculties, we feel
that our faculties, and even life are only designed to ele-
vate us to a superior situation, and to restore degraded hu-
manity to its primitive rank.
To say that religion itself proposes in the future, eternal
happiness for our object, would be to enter upon an order
of thoughts entirely different On this occasion, as in
others, the sacred writers have employed the received ex-
pression, and the reason of this is obvious, since all the
ideas which they give of future rewards, are necessarily
connected in our mind, with great happiness. The senti-
* Romans vi. 23.
5*
54 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION.
ment of existence, is so sweet, that immortality, joined to
an exemption from the disquietudes and evils of life, must
appear to us a very happy condition. But in the imper-
fect images which direct our hope, the idea of enjoyment
never occupies the first place, while that of a more pure
and elevated state, always does. Sometimes ' it is a crown
of glory that fadeth not aicay? * ' an exceeding and eter-
nal weight of glory, 1 f ' the inheritance of the saints in
light ;'J sometimes l particpation of the divine nature]
' a new heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righte-
ousness] || ' the heavenly Jerusalem, enlightened by the
glory of God} ** The word glory is constantly employ-
ed here, and since this word often signifies the progress
of the Christian in holiness upon earth, since we see that
the faithful, 'are transformed from glory to glory, as by
the spirit of the Lord,' ft it would seem that the recom-
pense is of the same nature as the means by which we are
called to obtain it, and that the regeneration commenced
in this life, is to be finished in another. Religion thus
confirms and sanctions, under the most expressive forms,
that law of one immortal soul, which obliges it to become
perfect.
Rigorous and imperative in the domain of morality,
such a law governs equally all the faculties of the soul.
The mind rises towards truth, the imagination towards
beauty, and the conscience towards virtue.^ The whole
* 1 Peter v. 4. f 2 Cor. iv. 17. * Colos. i. 12.
1 Pet. i. 4. II 1 Pet. iii. 13. ** Apocalypse xxi.
11. 23. tt 2 Cor. iii. 18.
M It is desirable that Metaphysicians should be able to fix some
certain meaning to the words mind, spirit, soul, &c. But while
some contend that mind, is a generic term, including all of man
that is not matter, others would make the mind serve as a connect-
THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION. 55
spiritual being receives an impulse. "VVhy should we
have been deprived of unerring instinct, the prerogative of
inferior creatures, if Heaven, to make amends for our con-
stant errors, had not endowed us with an irresistible desire
for perfection. The want, the presentiment of a better
state, are the instinct of man. He constantly examines,
revises, and corrects his works, his instruments of labor,
and his means of acquiring knowledge. A hope which
is never realized, is not however entirely deceived: he
arrives at improvement, although he does not attain per-
fection ; his fate is to desire more than he can attain.
ing link between the body and soul ; considering that the soul is the
spiritual and immortal part of man, while the mind is connected
more especially with the senses; that mind is common both to
brutes and men, while the latter only possess souls. All this seems
to be encumbering Mental Philosophy with useless and absurd dis-
tinctions. Matter is one thing; mind, spirit, or soul is another.
Respecting the latter, we know only its operations, and surely these
operations do not of themselves constitute a new class of substances.
We call the various changes which take place in matter, gravita-
tion, affinity, &c. and the changes which take place in mind, rea-
soning, loving, &c. We divide matter into various classes, as min-
erals, plants, &c.;and we consider mind as susceptible of an ar-
rangement into the will, understanding, emotions, &c. The neces-
sity of insisting on some third term to apply to the brute creation,
seems unnecessary, since, while we alk w to them, some of the prop-
erties of mind, especially such as produce sensations, with even some
of the higher powers, which seem to exist in certain tribes of animals,
we perceive them incapable of moral distinctions, and therefore desti-
tute of that element of mind which is necessary to fit it for glory and
immortality. The poet who exclaims, ' Mind alone, bear witness
earth and heaven ! The living fountains, in itself, contains of Beau-
teous and Sublime,' seems to be fully of opinion that there is nothing
more spiritual and more elevated than the mind itself. Returning
then to the Author's expression, ' the mind rises towards truth,' or
we would substitute for mind, understanding, c >n idering the
three terms, understanding, imagination and conscience as orders
of the mental faculties which constitute the mind. [Eo.]
56 THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION.
The desire for perfection, is that which education ought
assiduously to cherish. To excite, preserve, and regulate
it, is its most sacred task. And as the greatest degree of
happiness with a rational being can only be found in the
path of his true destination, instructors will just so much
better attend to the interests of happiness, as they will
cause to prevail over the other desires of the pupil that of
becoming perfect
Education ought then to be suited to our double desti-
nation ; it ought to prepare the child for two successive
existences. Behold an immortal mind, which is here to be
fitted for eternity, and a weak creature, sent into the
world to suffer and to die \
The constitution of our nature is adapted to these two
conditions. The soul has faculties fitted for its abode on
earth, and it possesses those which bear its views and
hopes beyond it. Both ought to be developed by educa-
tion. Since it is not the Avill of God to call us immediate-
ly to himself, and as he has obliged us to seek him in our
journey through life, it is the duty of the instructor to pro-
vide the child with what is necessary in the voyage.
But that life is a voyage, that it is only the swift pro-
gress towards eternity, is an idea which ought to be at-
tached to every period of our existence ; it is what should
always be kept in view, and what, in my opinion, is not
sufficiently expressed in the various definitions usually
given of education. It is supposed to consist in bringing
the youth to a certain state, rather than in implanting a
disposition, which shall make him, at a future day infi-
nitely surpass that state ; and yet, as the greatest moral
and intellectual development, in childhood, is nothing,
compared to what we expect in mature age, it is much
more essential to give it this disposition. The progress
already made is of much less importance than an inclina-
tion to make further progress ; so that it is less necessary
THE DESIGN OF EDUCATION'. 57
to inquire with regard to the degree of advancement which
the child has already made than with regard to the dispo-
sition it manifests for the future. The nearer a pupil ap-
proaches to the general level of society, in respect to
knowledge or . religion, the more easily can he persuade
himself that he has nothing more to acquire upon these
subjects, and may relax his efforts, thus stopping at medi-
ocrity, unless some new stimulus is added to renew his
vigor.
This is why so many educations, apparently well con-
ducted, produce insignificant results. This is the reason
why so many minds disappoint our expectations. When
there is no internal excitement, all very soon withers and
falls to decay. Not to increase, is to decrease ; not to ad-
vance, is to go back ; thus is it with human nature. If
there is within us, a principle of restoration, there is also
a principle of decay. We must exert ourselves, in order
that we do not descend, and this can be done only by en-
deavoring to rise.
According to Kant, the end of education would be this :
' to develop in the individual all the perfection of which
he is susceptible. 1 But as such a work cannot be accom-
plished in childhood, and as it requires for its achieve-
ment the entire existence, I would propose a slight change
of this fine definition: to give to the pupil the icill and
the means of arriving at the perfection of which he will
one day be susceptible..
This supposes in th'e instructor some idea of the per-
fection to which he may aspire, and, moreover, a know-
ledge of the causes which act upon the will. This will
be the subject of the following chapters.
CHAPTER II.
OF THE IDEA WHICH THE INSTRUCTOR OUGHT TO FORM
OF PERFECTION. URIM AND THUMMIM, LIGHT AND
PERFECTION. (GENESIS) SYMBOLS OF THE MOST HIGH
FIGURED UPON THE BREASTPLATE OF THE JEWISH
HIGH PRIEST.
PERFECTION, that noble end of education, of life, is not
to be found upon earth any more than happiness ; but we
are much less liable to wander in its search. Even while
ignorant of its nature, we can always approach nearer to
it, since the road which leads there is well marked.*
And, if in proportion as we advance our strength increas-
es, if we soon gain a better climate, and breathe a purer
air, we shall not fail on our journey, of either encourage-
ment or reward.
It is necessary however to form some idea of what we
wish to obtain ; and what idea can we form of perfection,
since we have never found it, and even our imagination
cannot (dearly represent it to us 1 How can we do this,
as, in examining each object, we judge it constantly infe-
rior to that veiled image, which seems to us to soar above
ourselves, and all things about us ? This judgment can
only be the result of a comparison, for which we seem to
*Or, to express the same idea in the beautiful and expressive lan-
guage of the Scriptures, ' The way-faring man, though a fool, need
not err therein,' [En.]
PERFECTION" SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 59
want one of the terms. Some general considerations will
perhaps aid us in the elucidation of this question.
We do not inquire here with regard to that sovereign
perfection which is called absolute, to show that it is sus-
ceptible of no more increase, an idea which can only be
understood to apply to God. Indeed, the excellence
which seems to us to constitute perfection, is of a nature
to increase without limit. Whatever grandeur may be
assigned to intelligence, strength, and beauty, we can al-
ways add to it one degree more. It is in the region of
infinity, that human thought loses itself, and perceives there
can be nothing greater or more perfect. It is then rela-
tive perfection only which we have to consider.
In this life an object is accounted perfect when it is what
it should be ; that is to say, when it fully answers its des-
tination. At the moment of creation, the Almighty as-
signed to each of his works its destination, and in this
sense, all beings, which answer to the views of God are
perfect. Yet as some are endowed with properties or
faculties, of which others are destitute, there appears to us
a sort of hierarchy, among created beings. We attribute
to them a rank proportioned to the grandeur of the quali.
ties which they display, or to the importance of their des-
tination, and this rank seems to determine the degree of
their relative perfection.
Yet it is not always easy to estimate this degree ; it
would be necessary for us to know the grand outline of
the plan of God, in order to decide what place, each object
ought to occupy, the link which connects it to other ob-
jects, and the qualities which these relations demand-
The contemplation of nature, doubtless reveals to us some
of the designs of God. We see the heavenly bodies ac-
complish their revolutions in fixed periods, the seasons
succeed each other regularly, the various species of plants
and animals maintained and perpetuated, order, motion,
60 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT.
and life, preserved throughout the universe. The whole
is too regular, the dependence of the parts too intimate
for the perfection of the whole, not to answer to that of the
parts. But how far are our vague ideas from the exact
knowledge even of each piece of the grand mechanism.
Not only are we without any ideas of what nature ought
to be, but we cannot distinguish exactly what it is, when
presented to us in reality. Our superficial observation
stops before it arrives at the essence of bodies ; and one
of the most interesting of all subjects, the organization of
living beings, remains to us a profound mystery. We
imagine however that we discover gradually the perfec-
tion of the works of God ; but we cannot judge of them ;
his works, as well as himself, surpass in every respect,
our narrow views, and we can only approach the vestibule
of his conceptions.
But when called to appreciate the works of man, the
same disproportion does not exist. There the artist and
the judge are upon a level, and the one has no faculty
foreign to the other. Yet even here, the uncertainty of
our ideas confuses us ; and we know not clearly enough
what ought to be, to pronounce respecting what is. We
understand in general what effect an artist has wished to
produce, but we are ignorant whether he has taken the
best means to succeed.
We review his plan, we remodel it in our mind ; and
only perceive the defects of our inventions, when we come
to put our theory in practice, But, through the darkness
which obscures our mental vision, we almost always dis-
cover two species of imperfections ; one in the first idea of
the workmen, and another in the execution of the work ;
such are the sources of imperfection profusely spread over
human productions.
If Ave wish to remove at least one of these sources, we
must leave the region of the fine arts, and enter the humble
PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 61
domain of mechanical arts. There, in the representation
of geometrical figures, which answer to the most precise
notions of our mind, we can be sufficiently near to see
perfection realized. If, for example, I demand of a work-
man to construct for me, in metal or ivory, a sphere, a cyl-
inder, or a cube, as I well know what I have in view, if
the execution of that object is regular, I have nothing
more to desire. Nicer organs than mine, would perhaps
find defects in them, but as I am formed, I do not see them,
and I pronounce the work to be perfect.
A decision so favorable, leaves me, it is true, completely
cold. It is an act of judgment which has only the char-
acter of approbation, unaccompanied with admiration. But
in this inferior perfection, we can seize upon the most im-
portant element in the idea of perfection. In all which
falls under the province of judgment, reason ought to give
its full and entire approbation. And, as there are some
qualities which reason has a right to require in all objects,
as she very well knows in what these qualities consist,
and as the notions which she has of them, without attain-
ing altogether to mathematical precision, are among the
number of those most clear to our mind, it is essential
that relatively to those at least the conformity of what is,
with what ought to be, should be complete. Thus in
material works, the adaptation of means to an end, the
just proportion and intimate connexion of parts, the dura-
tion, and utility of the object are among the number of obli-
gatory conditions. There are qualities correspondent to
them in the moral domain ; so that if we give the name of
regularity to the whole of those qualities which are at-
tached to our notions of order, and which are to be judged
by reason, we shall say that regularity is the first and in-
dispensable element of perfection.
But this element is not the only one ; there is another,
which, wherever it can be found, is equally necessary.
6
62 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT.
Perfection, in itself, supposes a combination of all excel-
lencies, and there are kinds of merit which judgment
alone does not appreciate. All is not reason in man;
feeling, and imagination, have their rights. We wish to
admire; we cherish this sweet and grand emotion, and
beauty is the natural subject of admiration. We desire
both moral and physical beauty, and when the obligations
imposed by duty are fulfilled, we then ask for these.
Here, is presented an element, infinite by its nature, con-
stantly susceptible of a greater degree of development.
And from this it arises, that our desires are insatiable, and
that the only perfection which can satisfy them, seems al-
ways to escape us.
What is beauty? A question insolvable, perhaps, or
which at least has' never yet been solved. We have nev-
er discovered the common characteristic of the various
objects which excite our admiration. They charm and
fascinate us, they suspend for a moment the monotonous
course of our existence, they transport us beyond the earth
and from ourselves. The effect which they produce upon
us sometimes unites them in our thoughts; but the link is
not in them, it is in our soul.
What resemblance can we find between what are the
most simple of all things, a brilliant or delicate color, and
a melodious sound, and the immense complication of ob-
jects, which the magnificent aspect of nature presents to
us ? And yet the rapid and fugitive impression of such a
color and such a sound, as well as the more permanent
effect of a landscape, obliges us to exclaim, It is beautiful !
What is this power of moving our souls possessed by ter-
restrial things ? What is this indefinable charm, myste-
rious blessing of our existence ? Is it an anticipation of
another state of being, a reflection of celestial splendor, an
echo of the harmony above 1 Is it an impulse given to the
soul, destined hereafter to contemplate infinite beauty?
PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 63
And this rapture mingled with a soft melancholy, is its
use to remind us that we are only pilgrims on earth?
There is in this a proof of goodness which we cannot
misunderstand.
In order to distinguish ideas often confused, we observe
that regularity is not a condition necessary to beauty. It
becomes such if we require perfect beauty; but then the
idea is not the most simple, and we form perfection by
combining the two elements which constitute it. But if
we seek to separate them, in taking for the sole character
of beauty, the power of exciting admiration, we see that
the sentiment can be more easily inspired. A child is
presented to our view, and we are charmed with its dazzling 1
complexion, and the brilliancy of its eyes, while perhaps
its features will not sustain examination. The finest points
of view in nature present nothing regular. And in the
moral world, where order is represented by duty, how
many actions which are not conformed to this rule excite
our approbation ! A mother precipitates herself into the
waves to perish with her drowning child : such a devo-
tion appears to us noble ; our feeelings compel us to say it,
and yet if she was the only support of an aged parent, she
has done wrong. An heroic courage, the generous exal-
tation of the most tender affections, have often produced
sacrifices, which, though an austere morality would con-
demn, yet to which an ideaof beauty is invincibly attached.
From this fruitful source, spring the arts ; and when they
add their enchanting illusions to a charm already too pow-
erful, they raise to enthusiasm the admiration which cer-
tain acts excite in us. Self-devotion is a principle common
to all dazzling actions.
This seems to lead me to form some idea of perfection.
In point of regularity, reason is the supreme judge, and
reason knows what she wishes. She seeks to find quali-
ties of which she has precise notions, and even when she
can figure to herself no object which combines these
64 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT.
qualities, she can in each real object deny or affirm the
existence of them. This is a simple act of judgment, of
which the most dull imaginations are capable.
The case is not the same, with regard to the other ele-
ment. We cannot define precisely beauty in the physical
order ; and in the moral order, we know better what are
the qualities deserving of our esteem, than the vivid emo-
tion to which the name of admiration is attached. It
seems, in truth, that the sacrifice of one's self is the gene-
ral character, which presents the most sublime examples.
But if this enters necessarily into the idea of moral beauty,
it is nevertheless insufficient to constitute it entirely, since
a devotion which should be only an effect of weakness or
habit, would affect us but little : thus there always remains
something unknown to discover. The pleasure attached
to admiration, is not, then, owing entirely to the exercise
of the understanding, which is only satisfied with what it
can clearly explain, but is owing rather to the flight of our
most elevated faculties. The idea of beauty once enkin-
dled in the bosom of man, the emotions are warmed, and
imagination spreads her wings. Then it is no more real
qualities which the mind contemplates, but lively, anima-
ted representations, clothed with colors more brilliant than
those of reality. When the wonders of the arts, the mas-
ter-pieces of genius, or the splendid endowments of one of
our fellow-mortals excite in us lively emotions, they effect
a development in our own soul, and the enchantment
which we experience is perhaps less connected with the
object of our admiration than with the charms of a new
beauty which they have served to reveal to us. Thus,
while they have at first surpassed our expectation, we soon
discover defects in them, because they are far from equal-
ling the ideal model formed in our mind. The nearer
these terrestrial things approach perfection, the more ele-
vated becomes the idea of perfection. The elements of
PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 65
which it is composed, appear to us made to unite in an
harmonious whole, and even the conditions which reason
requires seem to add to beauty.
This is equally applicable to education. In proposing
to form the character of the creature called man, instruct-
ors have to execute a work which they should seek to
render perfect They must not then lose sight of the two
conditions necessary to form perfection. Reason, severe
in her exactions, can define what she has a right to de-
mand. She wishes a useful member of society, of the
state and of the family ; a man who attends to his own in-
terest without injuring that of others, and who assists them
as far as he is able; an enlightened man, who contributes
to the progress of knowledge, and civilization ; and who
shows himself the advocate of religion, as well as a defend-
er of morality. Behold the man modelled by reason.
He will never be discovered in fault : we shall always
approve his conduct, but we do not go so for as to admire
him, and it is doubtful whether we should love him, if he
had no other title to our esteem than his well-regulated
conduct.
What is there then to regret in the original of such a
portrait? What can be wanting to it? It lacks moral beauty :
that element which expands the soul, which betrays in man
the immortal being. Indications apparently very slight, can
serve to discover to us modes of existence very different.
He within whom rules the active principle of moral beauty,
will distinguish himself little in his actions, from the man
otherwise accomplished to whom this element is wanting.
The first will be wise like the other, but his wisdom will
liave the air of inspiration ; he will observe rule, like the
other, but without thinking always that he does observe it :
indeed it would seem rather that a happy harmony unites
his feelings to his duty: thus we shall always approve
him, but a more lively sympathy will draw us nearer him
6*
66 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT.
and, by a singular contrast, we shall feel him more like
ourselves, more our brother, and yet most superior to us.
A word, a look, will be sufficient to establish between
him and ourselves a rapid electric communication;* we
know him before he acts ; we know that upon the first
signal, he will fly to the relief of suffering humanity ; we
shall find him in the day of misfortune.
Whence then proceed these impressions so different?
Is there a real cause for the almost opposite feelings which
these two beings excite in my mind ? Yes, there is one ;
I believe the one capable of devotion, and I strongly doubt
that the other is. Without the power of devotion there is
no moral beauty. Nothing noble or great can exist on
earth, without the powerful feeling which raises man
above himself, which devotes him to an object worthy of
his love, and, rendering him superior to the timid instincts
of nature, seems to raise him above the limits set to hu-
manity. When this living, expansive principle of moral
beauty is wanting, man possesses but a cold merit, a pre-
cise regularity, the result of painful efforts to accomplish
a work, \vhich affects us little. It recalls to us the cube,
* What mind above the common mass of cold and heartless beings
has not felt this kindling of its best emotions, when accidental col-
lision with a kindred mind has elicited a sudden flash of feeling 1
In the circles of fashion this is perhaps a rare phenomenon ; for we
do not here refer to a transient admiration, or that of sentiment
Avhich evaporates as soon as expressed ; but we mean that union of
soul which sometimes takes place between kindred minds, in whom
the finest feelings of nature, instead of being blasted by a servile de-
votion to low and worldly objects, have been cherished by the con-
sideration of the high hopes and destiny of man, and a life consecra-
ted to noble thoughts and pursuits. When such beings meet, they
will at once feel and understand the tie which exists between them ;
if this be true with respect to those influenced by moral virtue only,
how much more so of the disciples of Jesus ! [En.]
PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT. 67
or the well-polished ball, and our indifference to these
symmetrical forms tells us that this is not the perfection
for man.
Yet when regard for order and rule is carried so far
as to give him who experiences it the power of sacrificing
all to his duty, we may ask if we do not find in his devo-
tion the principle of moral beauty, and if he does not ex-
hibit the most elevated perfection ? Without doubt he will
present a spectacle worthy to be admired ; he will realize
stoicism, the sublime conception of ancient times, which
has never been entirely foreign- to great and generous
souls : but it is upon universal sentiments that education
should be founded, not upon a rare enthusiasm. The
virtue and perfection which such a system supposes, are
the noblest of human conceptions, but they are of an ab-
stract nature. The most excellent qualities should be
presented to us in a real object, in order to take consist-
ence and life, and if that object is not God, it will be self.
Here is a constant source of deception. It is, as Fenelon
has said, self virtuous, and perfect self which we wor-
ship, when, we imagine we only honor virtue ; so that
the worship which seems the most pure, often degene-
rates insensibly, into homage to our own merit.
Selfishness and pride, are almost inevitable with the
being who has not consecrated his life to an object supe-
rior to himself. But, what is the object worthy to become
the supreme object of man's desires ? What is it which
can satisfy wishes so boundless ? There is but one such
subject. Perfection is in God only, or, rather, it is God
himself God considered in his moral attributes. Mortal
eyes have been allowed to contemplate his sublime image.
The divine majesty has appeared in the Saviour of the
world, veiled under the most lovely features of humanity.
And when the splendor of celestial endowments is joined
to the touching character of devotion, we not only admire,
68 PERFECTION SHOULD BE AIMED AT.
but love so perfect a model ; an infinite gratitude fills our
heart with a desire of imitation.
Such is the power of Christianity. A new affection
communicates to man a new zeal, which raises him above
himself, and the individual can henceforth advance to-
wards perfection.
(69 )
CHAPTER III.
OF PERFECTION CONSIDERED WITH RELATION TO
NATURAL AND SOCIAL INEQUALITIES.
" Education should be displayed in the external appearance of the
individual" J. P. RICHTER.
AMONG human enterprizes, there are few which resem-
ble that of education. The weakness of human nature
presents an obstacle to the accomplishment of good, both
in the instructor and in the pupil in the workman, and
in the substance wrought upon. We are there restrained
upon all sides in the display of our zeal, and even in the
flight of our imagination, since the point is not to create,
but to direct a development, which is often slow in its pro-
gress. Ideal perfection would demand that the work once
accomplished, this development should be complete ; that
the noble attributes of humanity should be exhibited in the
pupil in all their excellence : but this is what we dare not
hope.
There are limits imposed by nature upon the individ-
ual, as there are those enjoined by the social order upon
whole classes of men.
What do we discover in the individual in early life ?
Faculties of different degrees of elevation, more or less
susceptible of progress. Their extension and proportions
are little known to us ; but what we perceive of them, does
70 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED.
not answer to our wishes. Yet there is one method better
than any other to pursue in the direction of these endow-
ments. It is important- to produce a combination so happy
that these elements of unequal force shall be in equilibri-
um, and that the conditions imposed by religion and so-
ciety may be filled. From this arises a kind of peculiar
perfection for each pupil, and, when it is necessary to im-
agine, in anticipation. The instructor should have in
view, a certain whole which he has never seen, but of
which the child itself, in its most agreeable and interesting
moments, gives him by degrees the idea.
That harmonious agreement which is presented by all
parts of the works of nature, man was doubtless designed
to offer ; it seems yet to reign in early infancy, and an
excellent education ought unquestionably to preserve it ;
but this is what we are far from having attained, as expe-
rience but too plainly shows.
When Ave observe the generality of men, we feel that
they are not what they might have become. Do they
possess eminent qualities ? we perceive with so much the
more pain certain defects which form with them a shock-
ing contrast, and which seem scarcely to belong to the
real character. The exclamation, What a pity ! often es-
capes in speaking of those whom we most admire ; and
perhaps it may in certain cases be applied to every one.
On the contrary, if we observe narrowly less gifted be-
ings, we find them not so far in the back ground as we at
first supposed. They always possessed some talent ; a
particular aptitude to fill certain situations, and where
they experience a tender or generous emotion, we perceive
sudden flashes, which discover to us the kind of merit or
perfection, which they might have possessed. They seem
to be fruits of natural endowments, which have not been
brought to maturity, or rather imperfect sketches of Avhat
was destined to have exhibited a more finished model,
THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 71
But it is above all in regarding- ourselves, that we are
inclined to cherish these sentiments. Self-love, so often
undeceived by the realities of life, considers the excellence
of our natural talents. We were made to be better, we
think, but circumstances have not favored us, and our own
efforts have been weak or inconstant. What there is true
in this respect, favors an illusion which is dear to us, and
we constantly regret some lost superiority, some brilliant
display of our faculties which we have not been able to
make.
These thoughts were familiar to the ancients, of which
the worship they rendered to their good genius is a proof.
They saw in that supernatural being a kind of image of
their own person, a better self released from the shackles
of humanity, and designed to lead them by the hand
through life. This being became the object of their warm
affection : they invoked it, they offered it sacrifices, and to
it their birth-day was particularly consecrated. When,
upon important occasions, they came to consult it, it was
as an appeal to what was most pure and most elevated in
themselves.
This fiction exhibits the genius of Paganism : wherever
we meet with it, we find there the characteristics of such
a system the deification of nature, considered as especial-
ly connected \vith each individual. It was also a species
of God which the ancients sought to form in their sage.
Their religion lowered the character of divinity in order
to elevate that of man.
Yet the fable of the good genii presents itself under an
interesting form. In attributing a celestial type to the in-
dividual, it inspires a certain respect for the human form ;
it imparts a sacredness and relief to the distinctive traits
of each individual. It suggests to us a sentiment which
should not be a stranger to our hearts. If the same crea-
tive hand, which has so magnificently diversified its
72 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED.
productions in the universe, has stamped upon each human
being a peculiar character, then this character offers to us
something sacred. It is the seal of the divine work, and
the instructor should endeavor to preserve it. To discov-
er how the greatest possible perfection may be given to
the decided original bent of the mind, should be the object
of his exertions.
It is indeed when he reaches this point, that man exer-
cises the most power, that his qualities are most imposing,
and that he accomplishes great things, with the least ef-
fort. It is here that a happy agreement is found between
his sentiment and his conduct, his words and the expres-
sion of his physiognomy and his voice. If we recal to
our thoughts the most lively impressions we have received,
if we revive our most agreeable and dear remembrances,
they will transport us to the moment when a being whom
we admire has seemed to reveal his entire existence to us
by a word, a gesture, or a look, which could belong only
to himself. It is not always by his excellencies, it is per-
haps even, by his eccentricities, that a distinguished man
captivates our heart and delights our imagination.
Thus, great talents have always been accompanied by a
strongly marked impression of originality, found with
those who have rendered themselves illustrious by their
virtues, or by the difficult enterprizes which they have
accomplished. It is often manifested in early infancy,
and when this is the case, it points out to education an im-
portant duty. It is the proof of a vigorous cast of charac-
ter, and of a moral health. When nature is constrained
or checked, it is certain that a wrong course is pursued
with the subject of education.
It is, however, of importance to stop at the precise point.
This fine expression of countenance is an advantage which
should be preserved when it exists, and not procured by
art.
THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 73
It is the effect of certain happy endowments, which, in
manifesting themselves, should be seen in harmony with
truly solid qualities. Their development is always earli-
est, because this is the course of nature ; but the progress
of other qualities should advance sufficiently near, that
they may support and fall in with the general character.
If this cannot be the case, and the most important qualities
must remain dormant, if we cannot hope that the whole
moral being will increase together, it is better to repress
a peculiarity which would produce no salutary result.
The efforts of education should then be entirely directed to
the weak side.
This seems to be a point upon which there is little
agreement. Parents are tempted to take advantage of the
dominant quality ; they fear to produce in the mind of the
pupil a certain level which is frequently met with in very
ordinary men. But with those this level, perhaps, has
been the triumph of education ; without it they might
have been as destitute of judgment, as they now are of
genius.
When once the great foundations are laid, and the inter-
nal equilibrium solidly established, peculiar tastes may be
indulged ; but in childhood good proportions are all-im-
portant. Even genius bears its first fruits only in a well-
regulated mind. Without effacing, therefore, the predom-
inant trait of character, we should seek to make it harmo-
nize with all the others.
The same fault is often committed from other motives. It
is so fatiguing to be obliged to stimulate dull faculties, that
a teacher sometimes allows himself to be entirely led by
any thing promising in the materials which he has to op-
erate upon; and, as these are materials Avhich are easily
moulded into any form, a serious evil results. Thus, one
pupil is all memory, another all imagination. This is the
consequence of great mistakes in education. The same
7
74 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED.
may be said of the employment of certain principles, as
self-love, or an acute sensibility. These are good auxilia-
ries for education, only when they are in a state of activity ;
but it is precisely then that it is dangerous to excite them.
To exercise constantly the preponderating force, and suffer
others to lie dormant, is to add more and more to the mor-
al disproportion.
The weakness of indispensable faculties, such for ex-
ample, as reason, frequently imposes upon us the duty of
checking the progress of certain other powers, and of early
limiting the extent of the mental development in several
respects. It is of importance that the impulse upon the
soul be general, that all the faculties advance side by side,
and yet each should be exercised separately, in order that
their different degrees of strength may be tested. An at-
tentive examination of the springs which act upon the
young mind, is indispensable ; for w r hen results only are
considered, we are always in danger of being misled.
I would remark here, that religion, which ought to
be the centre, or as the common trunk of the various
branches of education, can also furnish, at each era, the
precise point where certain development should cease.
When the growth of a particular faculty is too rapid for
the general character, the pupil delighting in its exercise,
is excessively pleased with any trifling success which it
procures him, and infallibly prides himself in it. He
knows no longer how to distinguish true excellence, and
the only progress of importance, that of the soul, interests
him no more. Then religious feeling chills in his heart,
the sense of his duty becomes weaker, and the value which
he sets upon his own talents, leads him to despise those
of his equals. Thus, far from truly expanding, his spirit
becomes contracted, and the acquisitions at the surface,
serve only to conceal the poverty at the foundation. The
love of God, and of our neighbor, these two grand charac-
THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 75
teristics of Christianity, are only infallible proofs of the
success of education in all its different stages. They are
themselves a beautiful and harmonious development of our
immortal nature, and thus they have been made to form
the principal trait of the divine model which the Gospel
presents to the imitation of men.
But when these sentiments are exhibited by the pupil,
where they grow with his growth, and appear as the very
soul of his conduct, then the progress of his mind in other
respects should be accelerated. Education cannot give
too much force to the various faculties of the mind. The
most powerful of these faculties will be, in its hands, the
best instruments for the execution of the best designs.
And as religion and morality alone insure the purity of
intentions, so the development of the understanding alone
gives the hope that good intentions will be accomplished.
This may be verified in all the conditions of life. Ed-
ucation is doubtless obliged to recognize great differences
of situation among men : not only does necessity force it
to do so, but it is also reasonable, since there is in society
a degree of perfection peculiar to each rank and condition.
If there is an harmony to be established in the mind of
the individual, there is one to be established between this
individual and its destination on earth. A happy agree-
ment of the sentiments, opinions, and tastes, with ha-
bitual occupation, facilitates the observance of the duties
and the enjoyment of the pleasures attached to each situ-
ation. It is not then proper that the faculties be stimula-
ted beyond the point where they find in real life a natura\
and regular exercise. From birth there is a scale of de-
velopment suited to the various conditions of life ; but in
the most humble conditions, education has always a task
to perform : it should always give a certain degree of cul-
tivation to the understanding. There is a primary degree
of instruction which is the natural right of each being,
and of which no child should be deprived.
76 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED.
For a Christian, not to know how to read that divine
law which he believes he cannot violate without hazard-
ing his salvation; for a man liable to be brought before
tribunals, to be unable to read those human laws which
may condemn him to death ; for him who gives or receives
promises, not to be in a situation to give them validity by
writing; for one who labors for wages, not to be capable
of calculating what he has power to claim, is to be igno-
rant of the conditions to which existence itself is attached,
and in some cases to be deprived of the means of perform-
ing these conditions. These several incapacities throw
incertitude upon human conduct in the various relations ;
they banish security ; they oblige an unfortunate being to
grope in midnight darkness, darkness which is often peo-
pled with phantoms; and, in depriving him of information
necessary towards the full exercise of his reason, his jus-
tice and his good feelings, they often destroy the effect of
the finest endowments of nature. Indeed the state of ig-
norance which is thought to be accompanied by innocence
and happiness, in the entire absence of civilization, be-
comes daily more melancholy and more dangerous in our
European society.
The idea of a situation so deplorable, the common lot of
a multitude of men who possess nothing which they can
call their own ; this idea, I say, is a constant appeal to
the charity of the Christian, to the solicitude of the philos-
opher. The education of the indigent class is as impor-
tant to the other classes as to themselves, since education
is the only certain mean of influencing morality, and of
ruling by the curb of duty those upon whom it is not
always easy to impose others. And let it not be sup-
posed that a feeble glimpse of religion, such as is some-
times given to the ignorant, is sufficient. The incoherence
and confusion of ideas of those unfortunate beings whose
reason has not been exercised, invades the region of
THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED. 77
religion also, causing the most dreadful superstition.
This is but too perfect a picture of the -condition of the
poor classes in certain countries. And, to answer by a
single fact the objections of those who are not in favor of
establishments for the instruction of the people, I would
say, that in England and Scotland, the public registers
have proved that the number and importance of crimes
have diminished in the exact proportion of the multiplica-
tion of schools.
It would seem that governments, deeply interested as
they are in the maintenance of order and prosperity in so-
ciety, ought to be affected with these considerations ; but
in waiting for this, the efforts of charity should not be par-
alyzed ; individual activity can, in its sphere, produce much
good. In elevated social positions, there is a natural
magistracy which enlightened men can exercise. Our
age seems already to feel it ; the duty of imparting a pri-
mary degree of instruction to the indigent, seems already
to be legibly inscribed upon many consciences. New
motives and new encouragements are presented for perse-
verance in this undertaking. Before the influence of ed-
ucation has yet penetrated the mass, it can, in the elevated
classes, form those capable of seconding this grand motion
of the public mind, the result of Christianity, and an ad-
vanced civilization.*
* No where has the truth that misery and vice most frequently
proceed from ignorance, been demonstrated with so much force as
in the writings of Dr Chalmers, the greatest religious genius of our
church, and one of the most enlightened men of his age. The seal
of the Christian, joined to the science of the economist, have con-
ducted him to the true theory of the art so little known, that of re-
lieving indigence : he has seen that the only way to succeed in
doing this is to elevate the morals. The enemy of all abrupt change,
he has found, and put in practice the means of delivering his country
7*
78 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED.
In the superior ranks of society, the work of education
thus becomes one of imposing grandeur. These duties,
always sacred for the individual, assume an importance
proportioned to the influence which he can exercise.
There, when no defect in the character or in the mind op-
poses itself, the entire accomplishment of the divine will
requires the free exercise of the most elevated faculties of
the soul. It is not only enjoined upon man to do good,
but to do all the good possible. How will he succeed in
doing this, without making every exertion in his power
without calling into action that understanding, that power
of invention, that facility in acquiring new ideas, with
which he has been endowed by his Creator ? Talent
should not be buried light ought not to be put under a
bushel ; these are terms of the divine law.*
Indeed, whatever species of good we desire to effect,
knowledge is necessary. It is necessary to enable us to
combat in this world that ever-growing principle of evil,
immorality ; and it is necessary to enable us to relieve all
kinds of misery; men in the same situation, and anima-
ted by the same zeal, will contribute to the happiness of
their fellow-creatures in the exact .proportion of their
from the scourge of the poor taxes, the assistance of which only pro-
duces ingratitude, and redoubles the misery of those to whom it is
imparted. Persuaded that public charities are rarely exempt from
inconvenience, he regards the education of the indigent, as the most
certain and useful work of beneficence. A translation of the peri-
odical work of Dr. Chalmers, (Christian and Civil Economy of Great
Towns,) would be very instructive for the continent. [Eo.]
* The passages of Scripture, which some strangely suppose con-
tradict this clear injunction, have often been misunderstood ; they
regard religion itself, the homage of the spirit ; they teach a great
truth ; it is, that God should not be sought by means of efforts, or
subtilties of the mind, and that the way to go to him is open to all
his creatures. [Eo.]
THE PERFECTION OF OTTR NATURE CONSIDERED. 79
capacity. We have need of a certain expansion of mind
to possess influence, and in order that our influence be ju-
dicious.
That it should he thus with thoss who hold the first
stations in society, with those who move the two great
levers in civilization, legislation and public instruction,
none will dispute. Neither do these obligations cease
among those in a more private condition. The chief of a
work-shop or of a counting-house, a great landed proprie-
tor, or the father of a family, all have need of an enlight-
ened reason to aid, console, and instruct their subordinates.
All knowledge, all talent, extends the sphere of our power,
gives us the means of acting upon a greater number of
minds, and through these upon others also : thus the
movement of one beneficent soul may be propagated and
communicated 'to multitudes, along with the knowledge
and instruction which have emanated from the same source.
Nothing which is innocent should be withheld from the
being whom education aspires to form. He partakes all
interests with which the destiny of his equals is connected.
The mechanical and mental arts, industry, agricul ure,
commerce, all the animated movement, the varied exercise
of human activity, will seem to him but the necessary re-
sult of the development of our faculties. Society, with the
different destinations of man, represents to him the soul and
its various attributes ; it is, as it were, the relief of it ; and
in this enlarged image of himself, the Christian also re-
cognizes that of God. This also he seeks to rid of the
impure alloy which corrupts it, and to restore to its prim-
itive beauty. The task of becoming perfect, which is impos-
ed upon him, does not seem limited to himself. He exerts
himself also for those by whom he is surrounded, but with
wisdom ; and, availing himself of what is best in the char-
acter of our age, he thinks that those classes of society,
to whom Heaven has given knowledge and leisure, are
made for the instructors of the others.
80 THE PERFECTION OF OUR NATURE CONSIDERED-
Such is, independently of the peculiar direction which
the genius of the individual must determine such is the
disposition which education should seek to communicate,
when no circumstances oppose it. To succeed in doing
this, it is necessary, as I have before said, that each pupil
possess the means and the will to continue to perfect him-
self. The means will consist in the commencement of a
development during infancy; since the will being sup-
posed, one degree of progress facilitates the highest ulte-
rior progress at which we aim ; but the most essential
point, is the formation of the will; this remains to be con-
sidered.
. ( 81 )
CHAPTER IV.
INFLUENCE OF THE EDUCATION UPON THE STRENGTH
OF THE WILL.
" Our daily avocation, is to become stronger than ourselves."
IMITATION OF CHRIST.
IT is with timidity that I approach this subject ; hut,
without hoping- confidently to remove the great difficulty
of education and of life, it is of importance that we should
examine that which meets us at every step. How shall
we attempt to educate human beings, without examining
the spring which moves them to action? And if we can
obtain nothing from intelligent creatures without the par-
ticipation of their will, the smallest portion of light upon
the means of influencing it cannot be without importance.
It will be useless, to employ ourselves with other objects
relative to education, if we have not at least reflected upon
that, which deserves, before all else, to be considered.
Will, mysterious force ! powerful endowment, which
seems alternately granted and withdrawn from man !
Why does it often languish inactive, and then revive again
in our breasts? How, to a state of apathy, does it cause
suddenly to succeed one of activity ? How, after having
been lately tossed by the waves of our contradictory,
82 INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL.
ephemeral, half-formed desires, are we as a vessel driving
before the wind, and flying across the seas and through
tempests to the place of destination?
The weakness and wanderings of the will seem to be
attached to our nature. The effects of this evil may be
restrained and moderated, but must in some degree con-
tinue to exist. On one side, the power of education in this
respect is limited ; on the other, it does not make all the
use of it which it might. Its duties here seem to be re-
duced to three principal ones.
To fortify the will, to exalt and support it, if possible,
where it may reign over the desires, finding in their
strength, sometimes obstacles and sometimes aids, but nev-
er a power which subjugates it.
Again; as the will, independently of its strength, should
have a determined character and follow a regular course ;
as it cannot display itself in acts without having to do
with the inclinations of the heart ; as moreover it is cer-
tain that we often feel it decided by the various motives
which it may govern, education ought, in the second place,
to give to the pupil the sentiments, tastes, and even the
habits, which will exercise the most salutary influence
upon the will, and which, in the moments when it is the
least capable of effort, will impress a happy direction upon
the conduct.
Finally; since notwithstanding the most assiduous cares,
the weakness, the apathy, shall I say the momentary de-
pravation of the will, is more or less clearly manifested in
real life, the third and most essential duty- of education, is
to open to the pupil the way to that high source, where
the soul can become renewed and acquire new vigor. I
shall speak successively of these three duties.
The will, considered with regard to its strength, inde-
pendently of its education, receives the appellations of
firmness, energy, and constancy. It is, as it were, the
INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 83
degree of life, the quantity of moral existence which each
being possesses ; it is that which gives weight to his
words, to his actions, to his very silence; which renders
him the object of an esteem, of a love, sometimes of a fear
proportioned to the idea of a power which he possesses.
What inequalities do we find in this respect among beings
otherwise equal ? Why, without having yet put them to
the proof, do they produce so different effects upon us ?
Whence come those views of others which often exercise
a great influence over our conduct, while no distinct
thought has revealed to us our motives 1
Is it in the power of instructors to increase the moral
energy of a child ? However this may be, it appears cer-
tain that it is very easy for them to diminish it : it is per-
haps in this respect that we commit the most faults ; one
of the most essential objects is one most neglected. Un-
fortunately, education almost entirely tends to weaken
firmness of character: it is most frequently, to say the
truth, only a system of means to weaken the will. Per-
suasive and insinuating, it hinders its formation ; severe
and inflexible, it causes it to bend or break. It aims at
the contraction of good habits, and the peculiar property
of habit is to cause actions without the concurrence of the
will. Here education is aided by the imitative instinct
which produces an effect similar to that of a habit. Too
often, in order to accomplish the object, deception is re.
sorted to the most pernicious of all examples, not only as
respects morality, but energy.
Is it then that mankind do not know the value of ener-
gy ? No, it cannot be ; for life soon shows us its impor-
tance. Whatever may have been our actions, our feeling
upon this point is unanimous : if weak, we wish the
support of energy ; if strong, we despise one who does not
possess.it. Perhaps we in reality, value this quality above
all others. Without it, morality seems to us only a good
84 INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL.
intention, which is of little value ; we feel but little admi-
ration of devotion, when it proceeds from weakness of
character ; and if we sometimes hesitate to pay homage to
brilliant talents, it is because we have too often seen them
separated from firmness of character.
Yet, whatever may be the importance of this quality,
the reason that instructors have not favored its develop-
ment is very simple ; it is because they always find it an
obstacle in education. All which they desire to give to
the child, knowledge, application, wisdom, generosity,
and good manners, require the continual sacrifice of the
will. To diminish the energy of this faculty, is so con-
venient a course to pursue, that we often take it without
thinking of doing so. Perhaps if we were aware of it,
we should proceed in the same manner. While the wan-
derings of the will are always to be feared, while we are
far and very far from being certain with regard to the di-
rection of it, how can we seriously labor to give it a
strength which can only increase the danger ?
Education should, I think, value its resources sufficient-
ly not to fear beforehand the development of strength of
character ; and since the government of parents or in-
structors, as well as the usages of society, have necessari-
ly a repressive influence ; since the progress of civilization
has destroyed many sources of energy, it seems very es-
sential to compensate for these several effects, and to give
to the children, who are the men of the future, that nerve
and force, of which the germ appears to have been granted
them by the Creator.
It is not, however, in ceasing to exhibit firmness them-
selves, that instructors will succeed in communicating it.
If they are weak and vacillating, they add a bad example
to an influence equally bad, or rather to the want of that
influence which it is their duty to exercise. It is proper,
if we may so speak, that they should submit to the
INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 85
obligation of commanding. The dominion, to which a state
of entire helplessness submits man during infancy, is as
indispensable to the formation of his morality, as the pres-
ervation of his life. It is the means designed by Provi-
dence for the development of all his qualities, including,
among them, energy ; and the employment of this means
has for its end, and should have for its limit, the freedom
of the will. Education will only render man free. It
will commit to him the government of himself, as soon as
he, released from the subjection to blind instincts, shall
choose what is good for an immortal soul. The distinc-
tion between the strength of the desires and that of the
will, although very ancient, may with propriety be here
considered. The will ought to govern the desires, and
when it holds its proper elevation, we see it an absolute
sovereign, independent of the motives, incitements, and va-
rious solicitations which tend to subject and even enchain
it. ' The ultimate reason of the. free determinations of
the trill? says a modern philosopher, ' is in itself:' if it
were possible to discover it elsewhere, this discovery would
be that of universal fatality.
Indeed, to maintain that our will is irresistibly influ-
enced by the strength of the desires which spring from the
heart, is to assimilate us to dead matter ; it is to impose
upon us, from birth till death, the yoke of an imperious ne-
cessity ; it is to bid defiance to the unconquerable feeling
which, in attesting to man his liberty, renders him respon-
sible for his conduct.*
* The same may be said of the more noble opinion which subjects
our will to the constant direction of the divine hand. That every
thing depends upon God, and our liberty like the rest, who can
doubt 1 But to affirm that we cannot at the same time be free be-
ings is to limit the power of the Creator. Without urging the dan-
gerous consequences of this doctrine, I would say that its effect
8
86 INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL.
We have to consider here, only the free and reflecting
will, since it is this alone of which education should seek to
augment the power. It is of little importance that some
metaphysicians consider that there is an intervention of
the will in the most unthought of actions of our existence,
in those which, like respiration, are performed during
sleep. Another word is necessary to designate the cause of
the movements of which we are conscious, that great faculty
of the soul which acts with knowledge and liberty, and
feels that it had power to have determined otherwise. If
this power of choice, which constitutes its very existence,
and without which we might regard it as annihilated,
submitted to a blind impulse, it is equally annulled as if it
were entirely passive.
This death, or at least this momentary paralysis of the
will, is the lamentable effect of the tyranny of the passions,
and the loss of the feeling of liberty is the infallible mark
of their victory. There is no free will where the passions
reign : there is none in that state of intoxication when man
deliberates no longer, but allows himself to be borne along
by the torrent of his desires, as by some external impulse.
would be contrary to the views of the pious men, who have em-
braced it. In declaring the absolute impotency of the will, they
wish to show us the necessity of having recourse to celestial grace ;
but should we always be in a state to have recourse to that, if our
will was enchained 1 The act of prayer seems voluntary as well
as any other ; the accomplishment of the conditions of the divine
covenant ought also to be so. All the exhortations of Jesus Christ
and of the apostles suppose that we possess the power of deciding
for ourselves ; those even of the men whom we refute also suppose
it, so true is it that in denying our liberty, we are involved in in-
consistency ! We must resolve to admit separately truths which are
not irreconcilable, but which, in their application, are respectively
modified in a manner unknown to us : such are free will and the
influence of the Holy Spirit upon our souls. [En.]
INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 87
' O my God,' says Fenelon, ' preserve me from that fatal
slavery, which human arrogance has dared to call liberty.'
Such is the slavery to which, unfortunately, the child is
subjected, who, not being directed by a steady hand, is
given up to his own caprices. Such is the slavery which
governs man during his whole life, when education, in
neglecting to employ in season its most efficacious re-
sources, has thus failed in its principal aim, that of ren-
dering him master of himself. It is nevertheless true,
that to attain this end, it should use its power with a wise
economy.
It is indeed another way to enervate the will, to leave
it constantly subjected to a foreign influence. This fault
is also committed ; and education, in our days, in divesting
itself of its harsh and severe form's, has not avoided this
second rock. A mild, "and even voluntary servitude, de-
prives the soul of energy, as surely as one more rude.
We are often deceived in this respect ; the pleasure
which the child seems to experience in obeying, encour-
ages us : he appears free, because he is happy ; and we
take his zeal for energy. But when the will is not self-
determined, when it has only been made to follow, al-
though freely, the impulse of others, we cannot calculate
upon its stability. In this state of half subjection it can
appear lively, ardent, and even faithful, without knowing
the influence which is exerted; and we cannot therefore
draw any certain inference from it with respect to firmness
of character.
This is what we often see in education. To obtain the
concurrence of the child is without doubt an important
point. When once we have succeeded in that, the great-
est obstacles seem levelled. The obedience has nothing
servile ; all is performed with facility, with joy ; there is
wind in the sails, and we advance rapidly. Yet we must
not be under a mistake here. It is not in adopting the
88 INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL.
desires of another, that we learn to decide for ourselves ;
and what is called a good will is not always the genuine.
A child, animated by the desire to please his parents, may
he able to conquer the first difficulties of study ; he may
be a model of conduct so long as he possesses the desire
of their approbation, and yet remain without consistency or
stability when this motive exists no longer. It is neces-
sary for him to have learned to propose an object to him-
self, to choose at his own risk, the best means of attaining
it. The free and deliberate determination, the faculty of
foreseeing the difficulties connected with the course we
have taken, is what gives its stamp to the mind, and firm-
ness to the character.
If, then, the pupil is in future to be master of his conduct,
it is of importance to make him follow two rules apparent-
ly opposed to each other ; one of subjection, in order to
accustom him to repress his capricious desires ; the other
of liberty, in order to form in him an independent will.
This is a difficulty which is rarely viewed in its whole
extent ; hence (and perhaps above all in the most careful
educations) few decided characters are developed.
Another still greater difficulty is, that we cannot
depend upon the aid of the pupil in correcting his defects
which arise from want of firmness. To teach him self-
government it would be necessary that he should possess
the spring Avhich we wish to give him ; and it is not even
easy to make him understand what he wants. From the
miserable apathy of a child who never has a spontaneous
volition, and who consequently is not susceptible of any
progress, to fainter shades of the same defect, it is of little
use to address reproaches to those who have not received
the active principle of moral life.
Irresolution, one of the most ordinary symptoms of the
weakness of the will, escapes our influence ; we have no
fixed rule to give for opposing it ; and here reasoning has
INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 89
little effect. Irresolute people reason, perhaps, but too
much; they view all objects under a thousand different
aspects ; they foresee a thousand different results which
may follow any course whatever : what they need is that
energetic direction which makes a single motive prevail
over several ; that we may hope or fear only a single
thing. Shall we therefore direct the pupil to determine
without reflecting, without considering what will result
from his decision ? Certainly not ; this is not the part of
reason ; she counsels entirely contrary to this, and thus
tends to augment the defect,
It is the same with fickleness, another defect in which
the will is so prompt as to have the appearance of strength,
but has none in reality, since it has no permanence. What
can an instructor do in this case? It is not in his power
to revive extinct tastes, and, on the other hand, it would be
equally absurd to persist in a conduct which had for a
motive only a desire or a sentiment which no longer ex-
ists, and which we cannot regulate by any general rules.
We see then that reason, which is perfectly in its place
when the object is to bend obstinacy in opinion, is much
less so when it is necessary to communicate stability.
Its resource here consists in taking advantage of circum-
stances, that is, to prove that on the occasion in question,
the pupil will do best to persevere. But we feel that con-
duct thus influenced, has no security for the future.
To favor at the same time the work of reason, and the
development of the best faculties, it is necessary, then, as it
appears to me, that education commence by endeavoring
to strengthen the character, to prepare the solid ground in
which all good principles take root and bear fruit. The
fickleness of the child renders this enterprize difficult;
and as we are never certain of being able to influence
him while nothing is yet fixed in his soul, the means of
communicating firmness seem to be wanting like firmness
8*
90 INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL.
itself. Yet we must not despair. In the absence of
rational motives, there remains a less elevated, but very
efficacious resource, habit. By the habit of obedience,
the pupil learns to repress his passions. In accustoming
him to decide for himself in allowable cases, he acquires
decision, and his will, no more passive, insensibly gains
vigor.
The feeling of real liberty, but limited by necessity in
its exercise, is that with which Rousseau wished to inspire
his Emile. So far I agree with him ; but I regard duty
as the moral necessity, and this is what Rousseau does not
admit. He exempts the pupil from the observance of this
law, because he does not think him in a state to judge in
what duty consists. There is, however, one duty which
is very well understood by the child, and which ini-
tiates him by degrees in the knowledge of all others; it
is that of obedience towards those to whom Heaven has
confided his fate. His weakness, his wants, even his in-
stinct, naturally place him in dependence upon them. It
belongs to them to exercise their authority with mildness
and decision. The problem to be solved in their govern-
ment is presented in every government. The point is, to
reconcile the greatest individual liberty, with the most
perfect submission to laws.
For the attainment of this end, it is necessary to avoid
orders half given, obligations partly imposed : such are
insinuations, tacit solicitations ; such is the pretence of
leaving a child master of his conduct, while we envelop him
with a thousand chains. The atmosphere of doubt dis-
solves energy, and relaxes the nerve of intentions. When
the limits of liberty and duty are indefinite, a degree of
uncertainty is spread over our projects, and even our ac-
tions ; we have always to regret the resolution which we
have not taken ; we are always tempted to retrace our
steps. To preserve the child, and afterwards the man,
INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON THE WILL. 91
from such torment, it is necessary that a just authority
preside at the commencement of life, in giving a well-
defined course to the will. Hence public education, in
which we govern by immutable laws without constantly
overseeing individuals, is the most favorable to the devel-
opment of energy.
How far is the most exact discipline, united to the great-
est independence, reconcilable with the sweetness of the
relations between the teacher and the pupil, or between
the parent and child, and the habitual confidence which
should exist between them ? How far, with young girls,
especially, is it reconcilable with that grace, that prepos-
sessing appearance, that regard for others, in a word, that
refinement of manners, which we require in females ? It
is difficult to answer. Perhaps with them a strict disci-
pline should not be for too long a time continued, but it
must not be forgotten that all others have an enfeebling
effect. Reason founded upon observation can only indi-
cate principles, and numberless modifications afterwards
find their place in the application. I will only add here,
that deep affections belong only to strong minds, and that
when once the feelings of the heart and conscience are
well developed, they of themselves dictate all the refine-
ments of conduct.
(92 )
CHAPTER V.
IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND THE INFLUENCE OF
REASON.
' Man delights in reasoning, which is his chef-d'oeuvre, and turns
away from feeling, which is not his work ; he believes that in re-
moving one link in the chain of mysteries he approaches to truth.'
AFTER having contemplated the will in the state of
sovereignty, which seems the most absolute, we now view
it reduced to a condition less elevated : under this aspect,
it will appear to us influenced, even decided, by the im-
pulses of which it has consented to follow the direction.
It is then the various desires of the human heart, its
instigators and responsible ministers, which we should
blame for its wanderings. Hence the task of education,
difficult to perform, but more easy to define, consists in
surrounding the heart with guides which will not tend to
lead it astray.
Education can find here a secondary source of energy
for the will, in the strength of the motives employed to de-
termine it. When these motives are important, when they
merit the approbation of conscience and of men, their in-
fluence is often permanent, and the soul at length contracts
habits of constancy. But if we are only concerned about
IMPULSES OF THE WILL, &C. 93
actions, if we wish only to cause or prevent these indi-
vidually, we advance a thousand trifling motives, without
ever impressing a general direction. The pupil conducts
well, but his morality remains passive ; and we have, as
it were, formed a character destitute of substance. Yet
with infancy, motives only have importance. At this age,
the future is every thing ; actual results have little value,
and the best actions are important only as indications of
impulses which are to be prolonged. A man may do
good or evil, independently of his intentions : his fellow-
creatures suffer or enjoy the consequences of his conduct,
and they do not need to investigate the motives of it ; but
a child, exercising no influence abroad, all the activity
which we demand of him is relative to himself; and when
we suggest to him bad, or merely equivocal motives, we
do him an injury for which no advantage can compen-
sate. The nature of the motive is all with him ; the de-
sire of learning ensures success in intellectual education,
as does that of performing duty in the education of the
heart. A decided resolution does not remain without ef-
fect in youth ; and the knowledge once desired, can scarce-
ly fail of being obtained. x
But I already hear the reply of parents. We should
prefer, they say, that our children might be moved by the
pure love of virtue : hence we always commence by telling
them that duty requires of them that they do or neglect to
do a certain thing ; but we do not see that this considera-
tion has much effect upon them. If, on the contrary, we
place before them some hope or fear, founded upon inter-
ests which they better comprehend, we obtain what we
wish of them. We employ means which of themselves
possess activity ; we always give them useful habits, in
the hope that reason will hereafter add to them good mo-
tives.
This language is assuredly very plausible. The plea
is good in a desperate case : I maintain only that we give
94 IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND
it up too soon. The impatience to arrive at positive re-
sults is such, that we choose the shortest \vay of doing
this, without considering whether it is at the same time the
best. We do not reflect sufficiently, that to act from self-
ish motives is also a habit which it is not easy to eradicate.
The idea of duty coldly presented, has, I acknowledge, but
little influence ; but a more profound study of the means
of acting upon the will, may open some new route : be-
fore pursuing a course morally bad, we should be sure
that there is no other to choose. An excellent intention,
and zeal to perform its duties, are not a very rare phe-
nomenon with a child. The happy instinct of mothers,
and certain particular circumstances, often favor such dis-
positions, the germ of which exists in all souls : the means
of developing them, will soon be considered in this work ;
but here, where we are chiefly occupied with principles,
the question presents itself in all its importance. A more
exact knowledge of the true impulses of the will, seems
equally necessary to education as to morality. And since,
under a very general point of view, these impulses are the
same with children and with men, if we would have our
knowledge founded upon observation, the surest way is
to study what passes in our own heart, an object of exam-
ination always present and suited to our purposes.
Yet, what we experience is not easy to unfold; the
springs of our actions are concealed from our own eyes.
Our determinations are more quickly taken than their
motives are discovered, and those which We assign to
them are not always the true ones. Subjected to the ne-
cessity of reasoning, as soon as our mind, reflecting upon
itself, would judge of our internal state, we are probably
inclined to exaggerate the power of reason over us. Too
great faith in its influence upon morality, is perhaps the
error of an age, proud of the light which reason has dif-
fused over a thousand objects.
THE INFLUENCE OF REASON. 95
It is in general agreeable to us to believe that we act
upon rational principles ; to establish these principles, to
apply them to our particular situation, and to prove that
our life is conformed to them, is the chain which we con-
stantly seek to form. This chain is not difficult ; but it is
not so with the delicate thread which binds our actions to
our sentiments. The influence of our secret instincts, of
tastes, antipathies, dislikes, of the good or bad desires
which animate us, it is difficult to seize, often embarrassing
to acknowledge ; and yet these emotions of the soul are
the unknown source of the greater part of our decisions.
It is easy for us to observe this with others. We see
plainly that our friends are determined by that mass of im-
pressions and sentiments which seem often to make up the
character ; but no person believes himself to follow any
other guide than reason. We seek, therefore, to find how
the course which we have taken accords with our rule.
Our pretended motives are invented after our acts : the
genera] principles with which we intend our conduct shall
agree, appear to us to have been the foundation : and we
take for the cause of our decisions, what is only the
apology. Other maxims present themselves as soon as we
have occasion to change, and there are always eternal
truths to support our passing resolutions.
What are we to understand by the word reason ? In
the extended sense which philosophy has given to it, we
employ it to express understanding, that great faculty of
the soul by which we discover truth. Taken in a more
limited sense, it is applied to the conduct of life, and con-
tinues to retain its first signification. Reason, also, as it is
commonly considered, decides upon the relation of effects
to causes, deduces consequences from principles, and pro-
nounces relatively to the individual, upon the advantages
or inexpediency of actions. Elevated above the inequali-
ties and weaknesses common to humanity, we may consider
96 IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND
it as the wise counsellor, who, in the government of our-
selves, endeavors to maintain an equilibrium between our
different powers. If it finds itself supported by exalted
principles, it takes a very elevated character. United to
religion, it may become the lofty wisdom which compre-
hends our internal interests ; confined to the moral world,
it draws from the constitution of society, practical rules
for our conduct. Indeed whatever principle we admit,
and whatever feeling animates us, this governs, in the
calculation of the consequences which we are to experi-
ence from them. Incapable of creating our various incli-
nations, it only teaches us to direct those which exist. It
is then a regulator, and not an impulse. This alone shows
the kind and limits of its power.
When reason considers man in the abstract, it supposes
him endowed with the most noble qualities, and conse-
quently points out to him the greatest happiness to which
he can aspire. From this fact arise the admirable pre-
cepts which the wisdom of all nations has collected ; but
when reason addresses herself to the individual, she does
not find in him all the faculties equally developed : some
are languishing, others have an excessive activity ; and as
she can only appeal to those which already possess a cer-
tain degree of life, there remain to her few general rules
to give.
Yet the influence of reason is always salutary; it takes
the future into the account ; it forms a union among the
weak sentiments, in order to subdue the more violent ; it
says to a creditor irritated by the continued delays of his
debtor, If you cause this man to be imprisoned, you will
feel pity at the distress you will occasion his family, and
the world will condemn your excessive severity. These
considerations may be perfectly just ; but why has reason
produced an effect in presenting them ? It is because it
has found compassion and the fear of blame ; otherwise it
would have had no influence.
THE IXFLVEKCE OF REASON". 97
Such is the part of reason. Its skill consists in balanc-
ing the desires, the one class by another ; its resource is
the action of opposing forces. Possessing of itself no
power, and acting but by the aid of the very feelings which
it is sometimes called to oppose, if it finds in the soul noth-
ing to which favors its influence, it loses all its efficacy.
When this is the case, there is no foundation in the char-
acter either for morality or true happiness.
Education cannot therefore attend too soon to the estab-
lishment of impulses ; it should direct the development
of the various faculties which act upon that sensible part
of the soul from which the desires spring, and where de-
cisions are formed. There are impulses of various kinds,
which it is useful to distinguish. Some more particularly
named instincts, watch over the preservation of our mate-
rial existence ; others, not less selfish, but more nearly
allied to morality, are stationed to guard that part of our
happiness which depends upon the opinion of men. Such
are self-love and its various modifications. Others, more
elevated, as the feelings of justice, truth, and beauty, in-
troduce the soul into the calm regions where it is purified,
enlightened, and enlarged. There are others more im-
petuous, which seem to transport our existence out of it-
self, to place it among objects foreign to us, and cause us
to live in other souls ; such are the tender affections,
which from sympathy, their weakest shade, to the complete
devotion of love, cause us to experience for our fellow-
creatures, emotions as vivid as those which have self for
their object. Finally, there exists one impulse which
combines all the others possess that is great, tender, or
devoted, which elevates the soul, not only above its proper
sphere, but the world itself, and gives it a foretaste of eter-
nity. This, I need not to say, is the religious sentiment.
This inequality in the moral value of the impulses of
the human heart prescribes to us the course we should
9
98 IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND
pursue. It is the more essential for education to cultivate
the disinterested and generous feelings, as these alone re-
quire culture. The selfish desires and physical instincts
grow without care ; they are even indestructible. If then
you do not strengthen those which balance them, you not
only cease to make any progress towards good, but you
deprive reason of the greatest force which she can oppose
to unreasonable desires. Do we not see that the passions
are ungovernable in selfish hearts ? This is what we do
not, perhaps, sufficiently consider.
Thus each state of morality and of feelings corresponds
with man to the idea of a certain kind of happiness; and
his reason, limited by this state, can indicate to him noth-
ing beyond. Extol to some beings the beauties of nature,
the charms of study, of friendship, of domestic life, and
your voice will resound in the desert of his heart. If the
effects of eloquence are transient, it is because it has only
roused dormant impulses which very soon sink to their
former state; having never been called into action, they
are not there connected with the permanent interests of
life.
Confined to a sphere, yet reason does her best ; what
more could we wish ? Ask of her to regulate interests
purely material, she will counsel to prudence ; she will
tell you to abuse nothing, to preserve your health, your
fortune, and will make of you one of those people whom
Socrates ridicules in the Phedore, in saying that they
were temperate by intemperance. Seeking to make us
avoid dangers, she will encourage the observance of
the social laws, since we cannot neglect these without
exposing ourselves ; and, without having the motive of
hope to give us, she will have at least at her disposal a lib-
eral supply of threats.
Where reason does not find itself based upon lofty prin-
ciples, it preaches the morality of consequences; it leads
THE INFLUENCE OF REASON. 99
us to view the results of our actions more than their mo-
tives, and shows that vice produces evil, instead of leading
us to regard it as itself an evil. It thus enters again into
the system of utility, the master-piece of its most ingenious
combinations, insufficient, like itself, for its own ends, and
without value m improving the heart. It undoubtedly
possesses a repressive principle, but a force which can
only be employed to restrain is often insufficient even for
that. It is necessary to have the power of opposing one
emotion to another, the sallies of good feelings to those
of bad desires ; for if the simple barrier of duty only is
opposed to them, the violent passions too often overleap it.
That reason is indispensable in life, that without it we
could not take one step, that it is necessary to govern the
inclinations, or to direct them, I readily admit. I say
further, that, in a very extended point of view, we see that
it has some power over the formation of sentiments ; but
it is an influence slow and indirect In frequently re-
pressing excess, it deprives in the bad inclinations of exer-
cise in the same proportion, and may in time extinguish
them. There is implanted within us a principle of de-
velopment, a vitality, which, restrained in one direction,
is borne in another ; and even the feeling of selfishness
cannot for a long time remain stationary in the human
heart. The character of the same generation changes
little ; but what one does by calculation, another does by
impulse. The religious and disinterested feelings spring
up, and facilitate in their turn the work of reason. She
then causes a prevalence of truths which have long re-
mained dormant, and which assume a rank in society, as
soon as public sentiment accords with them ; and when
these truths are expressed in actions, when they influence
manners, and institutions are consecrated to them, their
real value appears, in the production of national intelli-
gence and virtue.
100 IMPULSES OF THE WILL, AND
But it is the correspondent development of feelings and
intelligence, which produces these happy results, and these
can be but little appreciated at a distance. Ages and peo-
ple must be placed in the balance, in order to perceive the
weight which reason has given to them. When she has
not time to act, when her action is confined within the
narrow sphere of the mind of a single man, her influence
must be very limited ; in order to produce great effects
upon communities, reason must have a simultaneous ac-
tion upon many minds.
On all sides we discover our limits : this is what I
propose to show. The emotions are impetuous, blind,
subject to various excitements ,- but they are the living
forces of the soul. Let us cultivate them in our children,
along with the intellectual powers ; let us never leave
them without nourishment in the heart, or without ex-
ercise in the life, and let us not repose upon reason
alone. We believe that the greater part of the evils of
this age may be attributed to that systematic personality,
which leaves individuals without energy, as well as the
political body without vigor. When one is attached to
nothing, it is well for him to be attached to himself. Self-
ishness is only a more severe word to express indiffer-
ence to others ; its natural effect is to neutralize all other
loves.
In general, the fault of education is rather negative
than positive; it is in what we neglect, rather than in what
we do. During a long course of instruction where all is
passive with the child, without understanding the nature
of the mind, there is danger that its fair proportions will
be irrecoverably altered. The memory and reasoning
powers are too often exercised alone, and the feelings
are neglected, excepting self-love, which is excited as a
stimulant. What may we expect Avill be the result of such
a course 1 Exactly what we may observe with grown
THE INFLUENCE OF REASON.
101
people, a great want of disinterested motives, and an ever-
increasing preponderance of those which are sensual or
selfish : such cannot fail to be displayed sooner or later.
A will, feeble for what is good, ardent and skilful for
every other object, thus becomes a necessary consequence.
102 )
CHAPTER VI.
INFLUENCE OF THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE
WILL.
"The feeling of human weakness sustained by divine assistance,
constitutes the character of the true Christian." CELLERIER.
IN exposing some of the faults of education, I am far,
from attributing to a want of care the various imperfec-
tions of the will. The evil is probably too deep-rooted in
our nature for us entirely to remedy.
It is not in the province of morality alone that the per-
version inherent to this faculty manifests itself. We every
where meet with it, and even in the direction of our near-
est interests. What man is there who, in the direction of
his health, of his fortune, or of his family, will never ac-
cuse himself of negligence; or who does not some-
times think he has not acted according to the dictates of a
clear-sighted prudence ? Whence does it arise that this
reproach is almost always well-founded? Why, under
the most favorable suppositions, when our judgment is cor-
rect, when our feeling speaks aloud to us, as in the case of
our children and ourselves, why are we constantly sub-
ject to apathy, or to some moral evil, still more serious 1
To account for it, it is necessary to allow a secret dis-
order, a concealed source of irregularity attached to the
INFLUENCE OP THE RELIGIOtS SENTIMENT. 103
exercise of the will. Yet we usually believe it better to
deny this truth : we exalt our power over ourselves in
order to give us this power ; but the means are ineffica-
cious, as experience proves. All that is necessary, we
say, is to trill. Every one can accomplish what he if ills;
fine maxims and just ones, in a certain degree, good per-
haps to obtain a sudden determination which we cannot
retract, but without habitual influence. It is out of our
power always to will, as well as always to will that which
is good, and we must not treat lightly a difficulty under
which human nature too often sinks.
What is our condition when left to ourselves ? On one
side, emotions the very life of the soul, powers without
which man is nothing : but these feelings are subject to a
fetal intoxication, and therefore susceptible of becoming
our greatest enemies : these are our impulses. On the
other side, reason, powerful when exercised without our-
selves, but weak and timid when it is directed within ;
because it is dependent on that very state of morality,
which it is to govern : this is our regulator.
Is it then astonishing, without supposing a degree of
energy, which nature and education rarely combine to de-
velop, is it, I say, astonishing, that the will is inconstant
in its influence? that it is inactive and insensible in the
absence of emotions ; inconstant and vehement when they
oppose it : violent, obstinate, even depraved and liable to
precipitate us to ruin, when subject to some bad passion ?
Conscience, it is true, gives us advice conformed to the
best morality, but we often stifle its voice, and refuse to
listen to it : the means of rendering us attentive to it are
precisely what we seek.
In thus tracing the evil to its root, in viewing the ex-
tent to which it has aflected the very principle of our ac-
tions, viz. the will, we seem to be left without hope. But
divine goodness has not left us without a resource.
104 INFLUENCE OF THE
Among the emotions, the most powerful agents of the
soul, there is one more pure, more noble, more closely
connected with morality than the others, the religious
sentiment. This, finding nothing on earth sufficient to
satisfy it, seeks assistance from above. It interrogates, it
implores all nature, and every where it hears a secret
voice which seems to answer to its appeal. This instinct
left to itself, would doubtless wander but too often ; but it
is not in false paths that we are called to contemplate its
progress. We shall consider it as it always may be
developed by an enlightened education : and since man
must possess impulses, since reason once formed will only
be exercised over the passions, since she assumes her
most lofty character only when she finds noble inclina-
tions to reign in the soul, it is important to show that the
religious sentiment is the only one which can give a hap-
py impulse to the moral life.
But the field here becomes so vast, that I hesitate to
survey it. Religious feeling joined to Christian faith, and
finding in the word of God its rule and its director, is a
source of moral virtue so abundant that I cannot speak of
it in detail. I shall, departing in a degree from my sub-
ject, the original impotence of the will, consider religious
feeling in one of its most striking peculiarities, that is the
access which it procures us to a superior power.
The defect of systems where some good principle of
our nature is considered as the basis of all morality, is in
general to offer resources which fail when they are most
needed. The endowments of the soul are indeed all that
we have at command. Nothing foreign to our heart can
affect us ; but a principle which should belong to our in-
timate constitution, would impress upon the soul an influ-
ence the more salutary as it would raise it from despon-
dency when it had despaired of its own powers. We are
told to depend entirely upon our own resources, when we
RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL. 105
are not confident that we possess any. We are pointed
to reason, when we are not rational ; we are referred to
virtue, when it is virtue which is feeble. As soon as a
desire is felt with that ardor and intensity which gives it
the name of passion, one single idea alone occupies us.
It pursues and hesets us; it plunges us into a fearful
dream. All the proportions of our moral nature are
changed ; all our feelings betray us ; even those which
should defend us range themselves upon the strongest
side. Our opinions deceive us. The excitement of pas-
sion leads us to see generosity, greatness, more ability to
do good in a new extension of our existence, and the shade
of a false virtue contributes still to make us stray. How
can we know ourselves while a prey to such infatuation?
Where can a safe asylum be found in a heart already se-
duced from rectitude ? Is not some fulcrum such as Ar-
chimedes required to move the world, necessary to raise
the soul from such a state ? What then is to be done
when we feel indifferent to what is good ? What is to be
done when we no longer experience the good resolutions of
our youth, when we have even no fear of the consequences
of our moral abasement? What shall we do, if, after vain
efforts, our wearied soul remains subject to a fatal passion,
which nothing within us is sufficient to balance? I say,
with a deep conviction for such a situation, which is, alas !
too frequent, the only resource is religion.
Let us then prostrate ourselves at the feet of the Su-
preme Being ; let us plunge into that immensity of conso-
lation and succor ; let us draw from the source of life ;
let us do this, and virtue will revive in our heart. An
eternal instinct, the very bias of our soul, the desire of
our excellence, of order, of grandeur: the harmony of
the universe which gives us the idea of its Creator ; all
tend to dissipate a fatal intoxication, and to cause a purer
day to illuminate our spirit. When we give ourselves
106 INFLUENCE OF THE
up to these influences, the calmness of celestial regions
seems to diffuse itself around us : a deep and solemn im-
pression announces to us a new state, a state at the same
time humble and sublime, in which the will submits, the
intentions are purified; where we are willing to give the
future to the disposal of God, and where his holy law
seems to be engraven on our hearts. Prayer, the sacred
refuge where our passions dare not follow us, the source
whence the life of the soul is restored prayer has over our
heart a powerful influence, and he who has not felt it, has
not invoked God with perseverance or faith.
4 Enslaved by our passions' says Rousseau, ' we are
made free by prayer.' Never did a more just expression
proceed from a mind less aware of the force of what he
uttered. When we are not in a situation to. resist our in-
ordinate inclinations, we can weaken them by prayer ; this
is but the same truth in other terms.
The child may soon feel the habitual need of commu-
ning with God, of imploring him in his troubles, of sub-
mitting to him his desires, of examining before him his
past conduct, and his future projects, of imploring of him
strength to enable him to persevere in good and to re-
nounce evil. The more he examines his intentions in
the presence of the perfect Being, the more will his mo-
rality be formed ; the better will he discern his least
faults, and the more will the restoring power of repentance
and love purify his heart. Such is the direction which
education can produce ; such the energetic impulse w r hich
may thwart without annihilating the alternations of the
will. But how shall we prevent the recurrence of these
alternations, or inequality in love to God, in obedience to
his holy law ? how shall we preserve the pupil from these
sad variations which seem to be the inevitable lot of hu-
man beings 1 The weakness of intentions is soon ren-
dered sensible in actions. The more delicate is the
RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL. 107
conscience, the more will it perceive, the more will it be
appalled with what it must upbraid itself for. The fear
of having offended the Supreme Judge, joined most fre-
quently to the wretched consequences of sin, may plunge
the guilty soul into discouragement, and despair, may
even lead him into the most deplorable wanderings, as
the' history of false religions proves but too true : it is then
essential that the means of elevating the will during the
whole life, be as efficacious as that of deciding it at the
commencement. Here is the triumph of Christianity.
In this important respect the peculiar character of our
holy religion is shown in all its splendor. It is its pecu-
liar object to alleviate our miseries, to save us from sin,
the greatest of all evils. Its law, (and how can we fail of
recognizing in this feature, its Divinity ?) its law is at
the same time rigid and compassionate ; we always dis-
cover through its mysteries the union of justice and mer-
cy ; and in the bloody sacrifice of the Saviour of the world,
truth becomes a sublime symbol to announce to guilty
man, the pardon granted through faith and repentance.
Indeed, if we view our religion in relation to its influ-
ence within us, we shall see that its morality, the most
scrupulous of all before the commission of offences, is the
least productive of despair, after them. In reading the
writings of mere moralists, we find in them the marks of
a certain cold severity. Like society, whose interests they
take in hand, they grant no pardon to the guilty, and trust
little to their repentance. Feeling that they offer no pow-
erful means of regeneration, they believe that the best
man has a necessary progression to evil ; they ascribe all
evils to some false direction taken in infancy, and, attribu-
ting an exaggerated importance to first impressions, they
are inclined with Paley to regard man as a bundle of
habits.
Man is not, however, entirely made up of habits ; he
possesses a principle of life, a restoring principle; but the
108
Christian religion alone can communicate activity to it,
because this only has in its power at all times that which
puts this principle in play, Hope. This only has hope for
the guilty as well as for the dying. It takes man as it
finds him, innocent or criminal, young or old, honored or
despised of others, and always sustains or elevates him,
always possesses motives to improvement to offer him.
It is because the principle of Christianity is sufficiently
powerful to form habits, and to break them ofT, to avail it-
self of the influence of time, and to conquer that influence,
that it possesses a peculiar and inestimable advantage in
the government of the whole life.
I am ready to allow that the love of virtue may exist in
lofty souls without any distinct idea of religion. Like
talent and genius, this noble ardor is a gift from above;
there are in moral as well as in physical nature sublime
works of God; but without speaking of the hopes, the
consolations, even the degree of perfection of which virtu-
ous men who remain strangers to piety, are always de-
prived, so that they still lack the most noble of our attri-
butes, I would say, that it is not our object to consider
these. Innate qualities are out of the question. What
education seeks, at least with respect to the present life,
is to revive the germ of virtues which would not naturally
be developed.
On the other hand, there is a more extensive class of
beings, who, without being acted upon by strong impulses,
avoid great excesses. As temptations are not always
strong, negative merit is so common that there is a proba-
bility of being able to obtain it ; if our tenderness, and solici-
tude for our children are moderate, if we reflect but little
upon their fate in eternity ; we shall limit .our ambition
for them to a similar situation. A thousand different mo-
tives may combine to direct persons of good sense to a
course of decent morality. The world, opinion, immediate
RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT VPON THE WILL. 109
personal interest are restraints upon them. But the de-
sire, the constant necessity of perfection felt in the inmost
soul, the firm intention of pursuing it, whatever may be
the outward discouragements, such feelings, and such an
intention, cannot, it seems to me, be founded upon a mere
moral emotion. The progressive improvement of the
heart, in my opinion, requires a religious influence. De-
pending upon more assiduous cares than simple morality
requires, the progress of the heart shrinks from observa-
tion. He who wishes above even' thing else to rectify
his secret motives, will often abstain from some action
which appears to be good, if he perceives it would lead to
evil ; he must then renounce the approbation of men ; and
yet if he had only to do with himself, he would be liable
to remissness in duty. Should we be sure to persevere in
a long and difficult enterprize, if self only was considered?
And would pretexts be wanting when we came to be wea-
ry of sacrifices which would have self alone for their
judge and object.
God only is at the same time within and without our-
selves : within, to witness our efforts, our motives, our
least thoughts ; without, that we may adore, supplicate,
and fear him; that all lofty moral ideas, the objects of our
veneration, exist in a sensible being, who sees, encourages
and pities us. God is wisdom, living, animated; a wisdom,
which feels love and inspires it. Perfection and moral
beauty have in him an individual existence ; they speak
to our heart and communicate with us. The necessity of
placing ourselves in harmony with the object of our devo-
tion, which is so imperious for those who love, becomes a
motive for constant improvement. We feel that the vi-
cious impulses of our soul are the obstacle that separates
us from God, and henceforth that obstacle diminishes.
We are penetrated by a salutary influence. When to the
idea of the most holy God is joined that of the reconciled
10
110 INFLUENCE OF THE
God, the God who pardons our offences ; then what is
most lofty in contemplation, most tender in gratitude, con-
sumes, dissolves, so to speak, the mass of evil in our heart,
and the will regenerated becomes swallowed up in the
eternal source of all goodness.
It is thus that religion and morality reciprocally sup-
port and serve each other; being alternately the means
and the end. If we may judge of the designs of God, it
would seem that the moral development of man, or the
perfecting of his free will, is the design of his Creator in
placing him in this world, and that if he has not formed
him perfect, it is because, wishing to have him in a state of
progression, it was necessary that he should have perfec-
tion in view. Considering man in his character of hu-
manity, it appears that religion, or the union of the soul
with God in time and eternity, should be the great object
of his pursuit, and that the exact observance of the divine
law, which is at the same time the moral law, is the
course by which to attain this end. When these attempts
are the effect of love to God ; then he will be constantly ad-
vancing; but, far from boasting of his progress, he scarcely
perceives it so inferior does he still remain to] the
model before him.
The instructor is, with regard to the child, what Provi-
dence is with regard to man ; he desires his present and
future good, that of his immortal soul ; and he studies, as
far as he is able, the designs of God, in order to conform
his views to them. In attempting to exhibit the progress
of thought in the mind of the instructor, we shall give the
summary of our principles.
Supported on one side by the authority of Christianity,
and upon the other by that of conscience, the instructor
dares to pronounce that the object of man in this life
should not be merely happiness. The law of our nature,
which inclines us to enjoyment, seems 'to him that of our
RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL. Ill
blind instincts, of the physical power which influences us
during the slumber of the will. To give predominancy
to the law of the soul, to the law which impels moral feel-
ing and all the intellectual faculties towards perfection,
each one in its destined degree, is the task which the en-
lightened and virtuous instructor prescribes to himself in
education.
In examining how the idea of perfection is formed in
the soul, he finds that it consists of ttco elements ; the one
is regularity, which produces in us the love of order, the
other, beauty, which gives rise to admiration. In the
sphere of morality, regularity is only the observance of
the law of duty ; while beauty, as the most sublime exam-
ples combine to proA'e, presents especially the character of
devotion ; and since God is the only object of devotion, to
whom we owe the performance of all our duties, we should
consecrate ourselves to God, that is to say, to real, living
holiness; to that God who, bearing our own nature, is of-
fered to us in the Gospel as himself the example of devo-
tion, and the highest degree of perfection.
Yet the instructor should measure the extension of his
plan upon the possibility of executing it. If he takes the
best possible advantage of the unequal faculties of the indi-
vidual, the result, although it may lack brilliancy, will al-
ways present harmony and originality of structure united
to beauty of foundation. But to the end that order may
reign in the breast of man, all partial progress should be
prevented if it causes a loss of that moral and religious
development, which is truly that of the soul. On the
contrary, when nothing in external circumstances or in
character is opposed to it, education may take the most
lofty flight, and favor the growth of all the faculties ; secure
that they will take a happy direction.
Such are the views of the instructor ; but how can he
succeed in the execution of any design, if he cannot rely
112 INFLUENCE OF THE
upon the aid of the pupil? What course shall he take to
form and direct the will, a faculty irregular in its exercise,
and which seems to be subject to no law ? Without well
understanding its nature, he observes at first that the will
is generally deficient in strength. Often incapable of
performing its noblest employment, that of reigning over
the desires of the heart, it still sustains the yoke of a for-
eign influence. These two kinds of weakness seem to
him to require two opposite rules. That the child may
be accustomed to repress his passions, it is important to
subject him to a strict discipline ; in order that he may
learn to form his own decisions, it is necessary to render
him in many respects independent. It does not, however,
seem impossible to him to put this double system in ope-
ration. The empire of law and that of liberty, subsists
peaceably together, when their respective limits are dis-
tinctly traced.
But how shall he succeed in governing the will which
he wishes to render energetic ? What, with regard to it,
is the power of reason upon Avhich we ordinarily found so
many hopes ? In examining this question narrowly, the
teacher perceives that reason can cause no other power to
prevail in the heart than that of the inclinations which it
finds already formed there. He sees it to be a regulator,
and not an impulse ; and feels the consequent necessity of
cultivating disinterested feelings with the child, which
only are able to balance the impetuosity of selfish instincts.
The inaction of the heart, during the continuance of an ed-
ucation too exclusively intellectual, seems to him accord-
ingly at the same time to favor selfishness, and to leave
the passions without a counterpoise.
This leads him to feel the importance of religion. Does
he wish to give decision to the will ? the religious senti-
ment is a powerful and universal impulse, deeply rooted
in our nature, and tending more than any other towards
RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT UPON THE WILL. 113
good. Does he wish to repress it ? Christian morality
is more pure, more strict, and still more adapted to the
wants of humanity than philosophical morality, since the
whole system of our duties may be understood by the
mind, while we feel no desire to practise them. But what
particularly distinguishes religion, what displays its di-
vine energy, is the power which it has to regenerate the
heart. The pardon upon which faith dares to calculate,
is the only source of hope which reanimates the soul,
borne down under the weight of its transgressions ; and
as a tender conscience incessantly loads itself with re-
proaches, the benefit of this pardon extends to every one.
A way always open, an object always in view, and yet
never attained ; this is what Christianity presents. Among
those who embrace other doctrines, there are doubtless
moral men ; but are there any but Christians who labor
seriously for their own spiritual improvement?
Whatever path the teacher pursues, he is constantly
brought to the point where all paths meet. God, the first
cause in the universe, the focus from whence the soul ema-
nates: C4od is the object towards whom education, which
includes all the relations of man, ought to be directed.
Yet, in referring things connected with our earthly rela-
tions to this centre, education would by no means leave
them to be neglected. Its ultimate end is the life to come;
but its proximate object, that which it seeks immediately
to attain, is the happy conduct of the present life. The
order of the universe is the object of its instruction; and
it not only teaches a knowledge of the world, but admira-
tion of it, in showing that all it contains, which is grand and
pure, is of divine institution. It encourages innocent en-
joyments, knowledge, the general elevation of the faculties ;
and would repress such emotions as are dangerous, and
unsuited to the nature of infancy.
10*
114 INFLUENCE OF THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT.
Eager to discover the indications of Providence, judi-
cious teachers respect and cherish the peculiar spirit of
each age ; they know how to take advantage of it and to
give it the proper direction. We would not view with a
gloomy mistrust the various influences to which the pupil
must be exposed in order to acquire knowledge, when we
consider the present world as the school where the soul
is to be formed, where it is to learn to fill hereafter a su-
perior destiny. In the hope that ' all things shall work
together for good to them that love God,'* we would not
be immoderately disquieted to see commence in youth
those struggles and trials, which give firmness to the
character, and test the value of principles. At this period
mingled sentiments of good and evil, passing emotions oft-
en excited by frivolous causes, are occasions of the devel-
opment of the mind, like the vicissitudes of temperature
on vegetation, which nourish the precious germs, and
give motion to the sap. Then the infinite variety of
things in the world, so many objects at the same time
innocent and full of interest, seem designed to excite Avith-
in us an equal variety of impressions, to wake those
chords destined by their Creator to vibrate : should but
one of these chords remain silent, the soul, like an untuned
lyre, may be unable to unite its strains to the celestial
harmony of eternity.
To sanctify human life, to discover and put in action
the treasures which) the Divine hand has deposited in the
heart of man, seems to be the part of education.
* Romans viii. 28.
BOOK SECOND,
CHAPTER I.
THE MEANS OF PERFECTING THE ART OF EDUCATION.
' When one perfect being shall have taught another, then shall
we know what are the limits of the power of education.' KANT.
EDUCATION, says a celebrated philosopher, is an art,
since nature has not in respect to it given instinct that
could serve to guide us. That instinct has been refused
to us in relation to this subject does not admit of a doubt.
While the brute creation have always the same manner
of bringing up their young, man alone is destitute of any
peculiar method. How many different customs do we
find existing among savage people ! Some plunge their
children, as soon as they are born, in cold water ; others
press the head between boards : others suspend them in
their cradles to the branches of trees, and thus abandon
them ; and others bind them tightly in narrow bandages.
The most universal sentiment of nature, that of mothers
for their offspring, has been permitted to introduce and
sustain a multiplicity of barbarous customs, and even love
itself has sanctioned them.
116 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION.
Civilized people have reflected more, and nothing so
revolting is found among them. They have not succeed-
ed, however, in reducing the theory of education to any
fixed principles. Towards the middle of the past century
attention to this subject very rapidly increased, and the
extreme importance of it began to be felt. The best
minds, as well as the most eloquent writers, have become
interested in it ; but the more they have reasoned, the
less it would seem they have been listened to. In Ger-
many, where under the name of Pedagogy, the learned
have wished to make education a true science, teachers
are all at war among themselves. Each one has a sys-
tem differing from that of his fellow each method has in
turn been blamed and justified. Authority, emulation,
punishment, and reward severity and indulgence, rigid
rules, and the absence of rule, have each had their parti-
zans and detractors. What shall I say then of public and
private education ; of methods of teaching ; of the distri-
bution of studies ; and of their principal object ? Almost
all these are yet questions of debate. The paternal feeling
has certainly always existed in the human race, and there
is much reasoning about it at the present day. What is
then wanting for the advancement of the art of Education?
It needs that experience should be much more consulted ;
it needs those numerous and minute observations which
alone can give to it a solid and reasonable foundation.
In works of the first distinction, where what is express-
ed makes us regret still more that which is passed in si-
lence Mr. Edgeworth and his daughter have already
said that education was an experimental science. Nev-
ertheless, they have published the result of their observa-
tions, rather than the observations themselves. Who
does not know, however, that we may draw different con-
clusions from the same facts ? Who does not know that
when one labors for science, he should exhibit the basis
MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 117
upon which he founds his results ? And, indeed, what is
the experience of one family, even though it be a family
of such rare endowments ?
It seems to me astonishing that, while the science of
Astronomy has been cultivated with a perseverance so
admirable, mankind have never studied infancy methodi-
cally. The most important of all problems, is perhaps
that which has been least regarded with constant and
rigorous attention. How many men are there who, with
their telescopes, night and day, confirm the predictions of
astronomers ! How many others who keep an exact
register of the wind, of the heat, and of the rain ! How
many indefatigable commentators ! And in this number
there is not found one father who has thought it worth
his while carefully to note the progress of his own child !
Even in the physical part, which it seems must needs fall
more immediately under the inspection of the learned,
how much uncertainty exists ! Some practices, evidently
pernicious, have been excluded, and this is undoubtedly a
first step. They know better what it is necessary to
avoid but are they sure what they ought to do? Have
they ever determined precisely the influence of the first
nourishment which is given to children ? Do they know
if there is any reason in the prejudice which declares the
mingling of different kinds of milk to be pernicious 1 ? Do
they know even the effect of these kinds of milk, taken
separately ? Aulu-Gelle has said that kids nourished by
sheep, have the softest hair ; and that lambs nursed by
goats, have the harshest wool : but has this fact been as-
certained 1
After such indifference, we ought not to be astonished,
that more complicated questions have not been resolved
by means of observation. It may be asked if it is expedi-
ent to subject children to the empire of physical habits,
or if, on the contrary, we ought to free them from it?
118 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION.
Shall we brave their prolonged cries in submitting them to
a certain regimen, such as the use of a cold bath, for exam-
ple ; or is their aversion an intimation'to which we should
always yield 1 Is it best to choose their food, or endeavor
to acustom the stomach to all kinds of nourishment?
Ought we 'to proscribe all mechanical means to protect
the head from blows, and to prevent other accidents of a
similar nature ? What are the influences from which it
is decidedly necessary to preserve children; and what, on
the contrary, are those, of which we should make them
endure the inconveniences in order to harden them ? In-
numerable doubts on the best manner of preserving health,
present themselves to the mind of mothers, which succeed
in distracting more easily than in deciding them ; and
for want of knowing how to transmit their experience,
successive generations transmit their perplexities.
If we approach the moral domain, every thing becomes
more uncertain, and still more critical ; but, with discern-
ment, what inexhaustible sources of knowledge might not
be found in the study of little children ! what a multitude
of doubts might not be resolved, or at least enlightened by
careful observation ! It might be ascertained if exercises
that strengthen the body, have a favorable effect upon the
mind also ; if the increase of corporeal vigor corresponds
in general with that of moral energy, we might learn
what are the agents which develop both, or cause a mutu-
al paralysis. That dependence on our senses, to which
authors have endeavored to subject the human intelligence,
would be either acknowledged or controverted with more
justice ; and if the origin of ideas remained obscure, the
first sign of their birth would be at least discovered. Bon-
net and Condillac, in a very different spirit, but by means
of the same fiction, have sought to explain the mysteries
of the intellect in animating a statue. How much more
would they really have advanced science, if they had
MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 119
studied a new-born infant ! What curious discoveries on
the existence of instinct among men, on the formation of
language ; in a word, on the whole history of the human
mind, would these young beings furnish !
It is \ undoubtedly necessary to beware of precipitate
conclusions, and we can prove nothing from solitary ex-
amples. But as every body knows, that in multiplying
observations abundantly, accidental differences become ob-
literated ; and that the peculiar qualities of the individual
disappear before the attributes of the species, experience
on a great scale would be one of the most efficient means
of instruction.
It is necessary to make our observations systematically :
we should have, in the immense multitude that we know,
that which would furnish most valuable data. The re-
sults of different educations are every where found in the
spirit so strongly characterized in religious sects, in that
which determines the several professions, notwithstanding
the late period at which men ordinarily embrace them.
It is also right to suppose that if we better knew the gen-
eral customs among all nations, cf raising children from
the earliest age, we should find in a great measure the
diversity of national character explained, and that the ef-
fects justly attributed to the differences of climate and of
race, would appear of small importance compared to those
of education. The misfortune is, that they tell us always of
the methods, and never of the good or bad success of their
experiments. They tell us very eloquently what they
have done, but not whether they had reason to do it ; and
among all who have arrived at the age of manhood, we
forever remain ignorant, which have been systematically
educated.
It is true that we judge of the education by its results :
it is necessary, however, to take into the account the influ-
ence of political institutions, and those of various causes,
120 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION.
that act so powerfully on the young man at his entrance
into life. The question in this respect becomes much
more complicated, since none can entirely escape the pre-
dominant spirit of his age and country. But as the first
impulse may be strong enough to modify all the others,
and to impress on them a salutary tendency, there always
remains in the domain of religion, of morality, and of
knowledge, something that may be attributed to early ed-
ucation. Among all the varieties of opinions, and cus-
toms, good and judicious instructors generally form en-
lightened and honest pupils. If adults in any considera-
ble number fail in qualities essential to the happiness of
society, and of man, \ve can boldly pronounce that there
has been some secret defect in the manner in which their
infancy was governed ; and on this subject there remains
a vast field for observation.
The uniformity of the products of civilization, actually
cause us to forget two important things that people less
enlightened than we are, differ infinitely among themselves
in character the other, that the child has an almost equal
aptitude to clothe itself in the character of each of these peo-
ple. I do not certainly pretend to deny that there is a dif-
ference among the various races, even in a moral respect.
Tacitus, who agrees on this point with our modern literati,
believed that these differences were accidental, and that they
almost disappeared after a few generations, when the cause
which produced them ceased to act. But supposing them
to be more permanent, it is nevertheless certain that the
same education will establish a thorough conformity in a
thousand respects between children of all countries, who
are trained together. With regard to habits and manners,
each new-born child might become with equal facility a
Chinese, a Laplander, or an Englishman such is the
great flexibility of our nature ! Past ages are as nothing
to the child. If he is not a stranger to evil, he is to the
MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 121
progress of corruption in the world ; and he might be
formed for the golden age, (such, at least, as men have
represented it,) perhaps more easily than for the age in
which we live.
It would seem, then, that among this multiplicity of
possible methods of education we should have only to
make our choice that in taking from each method what
is best in it, we might gather together in the person of the
child, all that the flowers of the human race offer to our
admiration. This hope is undoubtedly chimerical but
notwithstanding an attentive examination of the means
employed to obtain every desirable result, would be more
useful than it is believed to be. If for each and all, moral
evil is inevitable, the quantity of it may be infinitely di-
minished. When we consider that the Quakers among
their numerous population seem almost to have annihila-
ted even a passion so natural as anger, how does it in-
crease the idea of our power over children!*
Can we ever elevate education to the rank of science?
can we bring it to sure and certain results, by classing and
arranging facts concerning children according to select
and fixed principles ? I know not ; but the limits of un-
certainty will become much circumscribed and contract-
ed. I believe education will remain an art that is to
say an assemblage of means, in which a certain skill,
* Let each mother ask herself whether she has never by word,
look or action, exhibited before her child emotions which she would
be sorry to see reflected from its own mind whether she has nev-
er in its presence appeared gloomy, fretful, angry, or impatient ?
Alas ! we are never so completely humiliated as when we feel that
with all our efforts to render our children perfect, our very example
stamps upon them the imperfections of our fallen nature ! But if
those who do strive to teach virtue both by precept and example,
sometimes fail, what can we expect from such as never reflect at
all upon their duty to their offspring 1 [Eo.]
11
122 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION.
a certain adroitness, will succeed. The art will never be
thoroughly taught in books and the influence of man
with man, the talent to make themselves beloved and
obeyed, and to subjugate the will, must always distinguish
some from others. But even an art has fixed principles,
and public education might become something more cer-
tain than an art. Methods are more likely to succeed, in
which individual differences lose themselves in the mass ;
and the play of this great machine does not depend en-
tirely, either on the pupils over whom it acts, nor on the
masters that move it. But how much is yet to be done
for the perfection of such an instrument by comparing
experiments and proofs !
These two kinds of education call for two different
studies that of children considered separately, and that
of children collected in sufficient numbers to exert a strong
influence upon each other and that by an effect similar
to that of fermentation the elements of their moral na-
ture combining in each of them in a new and peculiar
form.
The study of children, considered separately, should
begin with birth. It is clear that mothers alone can give
themselves to this with success. Their relation, and the
peculiar gifts which distinguish them, alike fit them to
observe infants. It is necessary that a woman should
have a pliant spirit to follow these changeable beings in
their perpetual variations every thing with them is so
fugitive and vague, that a sort of vertigo would soon seize
upon the observer Avho should endeavor to portray all their
varying features. This study does not consist in a simple
examination. If one has not that flexibility of imagi-
nation which can clothe itself with a foreign nature, be
himself and another .at the same time, he can never be-
come acquainted with these young beings. It is still
more necessary to love them, in order to comprehend
MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 123
them, and they may be known much more readily through
the avenues of the heart, than of the understanding. But
when we do nothing else hut follow the current of their
feelings, and, if I may so speak, live in them ; all the im-
pressions that we have in a measure received, are too ea-
sily effaced. We become, from sympathy, light as they,
and the task which we had prescribed to ourselves, is
soon lost in forgetfulness.
To succeed in fulfilling it, I earnestly exhort young
mothers to keep an exact journal of the development of
their children. When they have not more extended views,
they will always find one great advantage in this em-
ployment. It will give collectedness to their ideas, and
fixedness to their projects. It will accustom them to ob-
serve attentively, and to explain what they discover.
In a very distinguished work, the ' Annals of Education
by M. Guizot,' there are fragments which exhibit a true
example of the art of penetrating into the nature of chil-
dren, and of assigning to their conduct its true cause.
These fragments, which bear the title of the journal, offer
to view the result of much valuable observation.* As to
talent, it is much more than I demand ; but with respect to
its nature, it is not exactly what I have in view. I would
have an accurate journal, where the gradual progress is
noted down, as well as all the vicissitudes of physical and
moral health, and where we might find, by regular dates,
the advancement of a child in all its faculties. The words
* Most of these observations have been laid down anew in ' Let-
ters on Domestic Education,' which obtained the prize awarded by
the Academy. This work, to which Madame Guizot has put her
name, manifests in the highest degree that penetration of mind, that
talent at discussion, and that noble elevation of moral sentiment,
which characterize the productions of the same author, and render
her premature death an event so deplorable. [En.]
124 MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION.
ideas, perceptions, feelings all that is acquired or de-
veloped, should be noted in this journal we should then
discover the first trace either of virtues or defects, and
could thus be able to judge of their origin. In order to
represent children, it would be necessary to relate their
history.* The history of little events of the joys and
sorrows of their age would animate the journal, and the
mother would soon find a great delight in writing it.
The most simple foresight would make her feel that she
is laying up for the future, the recollections of a delight-
ful era. It would be so sweet to arrest the fugitive ima-
ges of infancy, to prolong indefinitely the happiness of
contemplating its traits, and to be sure of having restored
to us at any time these cherished beings, whom we lose,
alas ! as children although we may be blessed in hav-
ing their lives preserved to us.
But of how much more general and immediate impor-
tance would a similar labor be, if it were executed by the
principals of the great establishments for education. They
only see children in mass ; as mothers only see them in
detail. What principles of ever active improvement
might not be gathered from a thorough examination of
the effects of the various methods they employ ! In in-
stitutions of education, the action of such a principle is
very necessary, in order to contend against the spirit of
indolence, Avhich incessantly inclines children and even
their masters to elude all difficulties, and to' content them-
selves with appearances in order to keep pupils on a level
with the rapid progress of human knoAvledge, which de-
mands a proportional advancement in all the branches of
instruction. And when comparative proofs shall have
* The Journal of a Mother in the Appendix, is an attempt at sueh
a history. [En.]
MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 125
made us decidedly reject the employment of certain
means, it is to be presumed that others will present them-
selves to the mind, that may give to education an aspect
entirely new.
Although institutions of education are very numerous
in Europe, they have heen drawn so much upon the same
model, that there is but little in which to compare them,
excepting as it respects the ability of the professors, and
this can lead to no general improvement. But when es-
tablishments shall become multiplied, that are founded on
principles entirely new, such as those of Messrs. Pesta-
lozzi and Fellenberg, that of Father Girard in Switzer-
land, and Hazlewood school in England, then the great
questions with regard to education will begin to be under-
stood. We shall see, for example, if the influence of emu-
lation, the moral effect of which is so justly distrusted by
every scrupulous spirit, is absolutely indispensable to the
greatest development of the mind : we shall know if we
cannot prevail over it by the happy effects of example,
carefully separating them, at the same time, from the
evil effects of rivalry : and perhaps we may learn that,
before all other motives, we may place in the foreground
the culture of feeling and intellect. From the success of
the method of mutual instruction in these new institutions,
what ideas do we not receive of all that may yet be dis-
covered, and perfected respecting education ! And in re-
lation to the formation of character, which is so much
more important, what light is furnished by the new infant
schools ! When we see these establishments where more
than a hundred children, from two to six years of age,
contracting together habits of order, and receiving the
first elements of instruction, and throughout their plays
and lessons, having neither tears, or cries, or quarrels>
but constantly exhibiting the image of happiness, we are
astonished at the greatness of the results to be obtained
11*
126
MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION.
by the use of the simplest methods, and ask how it is pos-
sible that so many ages could have passed away, before
we thought of them.
We are aware that it will always be difficult to estab-
lish an exact comparison between different systems of ed-
ucation. To succeed in doing this, it will be necessary,
not only that those who apply themselves to the task
should submit their own attempts to a regular examina-
tion, of which they should publish the results ; but more-
over, it will be necessary to follow the pupils after the
completion of their education, and to judge of it at last, by
what they are in life. These researches are so delicate,
and must necessarily be multiplied so much in order to
render them conclusive, that we hardly dare flatter our-
selves a sufficient number of observers will be found to un-
dertake them.
But what can escape the spirit of investigation which
distinguishes our age 1 an age, which alone has witnessed
the union of two rare endowments; the knowledge, at
once theoretical and practical, of that experimental phi-
losophy which, since the days of Bacon, has given to the
sciences such astonishing progress ; and the will, ardent
and steady to apply the discoveries which result from
them, to the good of society. It is now understood that
great works must be performed by united efforts, or divis-
ion of labor. That which one man alone and one life
could not complete, is perfected by other men, and other
times. And in this day, when so many magnificent en-
terprizes are excuted for the sake of religion and humani-
ty, why may we not .hope, that some respectable associa-
tion will be formed, that will undertake to resolve by facts
the great problems of education?* What examination
* Such an association has been formed in our country by one
sex, who are engaged in teaching, or preparing works to assist
MEANS OF PERFECTING EDUCATION. 127
more important, could ever be the object of human medi-
tation ! Is it not in the dominion of education that the
greatest influence is exerted by one mind over other
minds ? by the present time, over the future ?
There is one favorable circumstance that I cannot for-
bear to notice here. In all great cities there are numer-
ous asylums for children, which offer subjects entirely
new, and at the same time independent of parental au-
thority. I speak of unfortunate foundlings. With them,
there would be no previous impressions to apprehend,
and we should only have to gather that, which we our-
selves had sown. Moreover, we could do nothing but
good to these poor beings, in trying upon them all inno-
cent methods. Even if one occupied himself with the
earliest age, and the poorer classes exclusively, the appli-
cation of the different systems to considerable numbers of
children, might throw important light upon the subject.
Among the obstacles which oppose themselves to the
progress of education, there is one scruple worthy of no-
tice. People fear they shall hazard something in attempt-
ing new experiments, and they believe at every time they
do it they ought to adhere to that, which is presumed to
be the best. But the question is, not that which is pre-
sumed to be, but that which is the best We hazard
something also in our opinions. There are undoubtedly
dangerous experiments that should never be permitted:
but when all shall be banished that ought to inspire dis-
trust, the best will be at once for all to seek the truth.
To invoke the experience of future times is to say that
I depend little on my own ; uncertain and limited as it is
everj- way, I hardly dare to quote it here. But although
the business of education ; their example might, with great propri-
ety, and utility, be followed by the other sex, who to say the least,
are not less extensively engaged in similar efforts. [Eo.]
128 MEANS OF. PERFECTING EDUCATION.
I may not expose facts, I shall at least have the merit of
raising doubts. I shall single out uncertainties ; I shall
note difficulties. The best book in the present state of
our knowledge would be, perhaps, a course of rational
questions, to which the united labors of enlightened minds
which have devoted themselves to education will furnish
an answer fifty years hence,
( 129 )
CHAPTER II.
BIRTH AND THE FIRST MONTHS.
" Man has received from, nature nothing but materials ; but the
simplicity of his origin is lost in the majesty of his history ; the
poverty of his elements in the magnificence of his works."
RlVAROL.
ALTHOUGH birth and death are constantly occurring in
the course of nature, these events cease not to astonish us.
They always confound the imagination, and carry it on
to the borders of a region of mysterious things. Birth
and Death, speak to us of two unknown worlds, which
they seem to bring near to ours.
Nevertheless, the part which we take in these events is
very different ; we associate ourselves with the dying ;
we suffer, we tremble with him whose destiny WP must
one day ourselves experience while with the state Oi th
infant we sympathize far less. Its aspect can soften us,
but we cannot put ourselves in its place. The relation
that we bear to infancy, belongs to a remote time, of which
we have no recollection, and which has ceased to interest
us. That which has nothing to do with our fears and
hopes, will always remain indifferent to us.
All nations also have busied themselves with the state
of the soul after death, and have thought very little of
130 THE FIRST MONTHS.
what it was before birth. Even in the theory of metemp-
sychosis, the imagination has interested itself but little in
this respect ; for it has but carried back in the far past, the
changes of form which it has figured to itself in the fu-
ture. It is true Herder tells us, that according to the
ancient people of the East, the souls of those who were
not yet born inhabited an obscure and tranquil region in
the centre of the earth. There they presented no distinct
form. There they waited for light the moment when
God should call them, and the hour of their birth should
be announced. It is, he adds, the ancient night, into
which Job would have rendered back his life.
These opinions seem to have remained buried in the
East ; at least the Grecian mythology does not support
it.* It seems, however, that the brilliant imagination
which has clothed in agreeable forms so many philo-
sophical ideas on human destiny, might also have em-
bellished that. And at the same time that ancient poetry
represented to us, souls arriving in crowds on the shores
of Acheron, like leaves driven by the winds of Autumn,
it might also have painted the hosts of spirits which land
on all parts of our earth, and which even in the most
barbarous countries are always confided to maternal love.
But if, according to the opinion of the church, the soul
is really a new creature, what ideas must we not conceive
of thnt eternally originating force, which is incessantly
prociilcing beings from nothing ! And whilst the Epicu-
reans of all ages are pleased to consider the Divinity as
the idle spectator of the effects of a first creation, what
* Anchises shows, it is true, to Eneas (Jineid, vii. v. 750,) the
soul that must inhabit the bodies of his descendants ; but as these
souls had always lived on the earth, we can discover in it nothing
but the remembrance of a metempsychosis, regulated by the taste
of the poet. [Eo.]
THE FIRST MONTHS. 131
immense action, on the contrary, must not be exerted by
the inexhaustible focus, from whence life throughout the
universe constantly emanates.
It has been already remarked that sorrow introduces
man into the world, and accompanies him when he de-
parts from it. A crowd of tumultuous sensations assail
the soul upon its entrance. The air, like a rapid torrent,
forces its way into the lungs of the child, and irritates
them: the light dazzles his delicate eyes through the
transparent veils which cover them : and although it is
supposed he does not hear, it is difficult to believe that
his own cries do not reach him. Thus the mysterious
moment that plunges the soul into the vortex of life, brings
to it suffering, dizziness, and vertigo : but very soon a
sort of stupor, and sometimes a peaceable sleep, divest it
of impressions which it cannot yet support.
Much time ordinarily passes before the soul begins to
notice. All the movements of the child are hah convul-
sive, and correspond to its internal sensations : there is
but one of its actions which seem to have any design, and
that is, to turn the mouth as if to seek its nourishment,
and afterwards to suck that which is offered it : no other
proof of instinct can be observed at its birth. Neverthe-
less it sees after eight days, for its eyes follow the light ;
it hears also, for sudden noises make it start ; but it still
exists a solitary being, and enters not into relation with
the world in which it lives. Perhaps it refers all that
passes outwardly to the internal sensations which it has
experienced only in the maternal bosom. It would be
then in certain respects like one who dreams, because it
would have a train of impressions that could not be out-
wardly manifest. But there would be this difference,
that in dreaming we attribute to exterior objects what re-
ally passes within ourselves, while the infant refers to in-
ternal sensations the effect produced on him by exterior
objects.
132 THE FIRST MONTHS.
We cannot, however, doubt that it is instinct which
guides it. It is most probable that the infant at its birth is
subjected to this great law, which forces the soul to take
cognizance of a world of matter exterior to itself; only he
distinguishes nothing clearly ; all his perceptions are de-
tached, and do not connect themselves in his brain. The
forms which. move before him are not presented indistinct
images : his sight cannot appreciate distance, and perhaps
like the one born blind, operated upon by Chesselden, he
feels as if objects were in contact with his eyes.
It is possible that without an unperceived intervention
of the judgment and the will, we might be in this respect
similar to the infant. That it is so, might be suspected
from two facts that I venture to cite, although they are,
and the first particularly, somewhat difficult to verify :
one is, that when we awake suddenly, there is an invisi-
ble moment in which we seem to see objects retiring from
us, Avhich proves that, upon the first impressions, we had
supposed them near ; the other is, that, in a state of extreme
weakness, the sick often complain that all they see is too
near them ; it seems to them that images advance on
them, that the walls of the apartment touch them ; appa-
rently because they have not strength to overcome the
sensation.
What a difference there is between the man and the
brute, in the first moments of life ! How far above the
child in intelligence is the little chicken, just hatched from
the shell which we see run, scratch up the earth, distin-
guish, and pick out the grains of wheat that are mingled
with the sand ! How far above the child, is the young
chamois, if it is true, as they say of it in the Alps, that the
mother ready to be delivered, and pursued by the hunters,
stops, brings forth her young, licks it once, and departs
again immediately, flying with him across the snow and
the precipices.
THE FIRST MONTHS. 133
Yet even after the first months are passed, I am not
inclined to believe the child as destitute of instinct as is
ordinarily imagined ; and I see in him many movements
that sensation and experience certainly do not explain;
such are the signs that announce to us the first dawning
of his affections. Thus at the age of six weeks, the new-
born child is yet a stranger in this world, and nothing exists
in it, of which he has a distinct idea. He knows not that
the objects he sees, are the same as those he touches ; and
whatever impression these objects cause in him, he knows
neither how to reach, or to avoid them. Nevertheless,
even at this point, so remote from development, the hu-
man countenance interests him ; when nothing in the
material world fixes his glance, sympathy already acts in
him ; a cheerful air, a caressing manner, win a smile
from his lips; soft emotions evidently animate the little
creature ; and we, who know the meaning of the expres-
sion, are transported to find it in him. But who has told
the infant that such an expression of the features indicates
affection ? How can he, to whom his own physiognomy
is unknown, imitate that of another, if a correspondent af-
fection has not impressed the same character upon his
features? There is nothing here which belongs to the
senses. The person near his cradle is not always his
nurse ; perhaps she has done nothing but trouble him, in
subjecting him to disagreeable operations. It matters
not ! she has smiled upon him : he has felt that he was
beloved, and he loves. It seems as if the new soul re-
cognized another, and said to it, ' I know thee !'
Does not this phenomenon evidently belong to instinct ?
Is it not an effect produced by the same inexplicable
presentiment, which makes the terrified chicken fly at
the appearance of a black point scarcely visible, high in
the air ? The chicken, who has never seen the hawk,
12
134 THE FIRST MONTHS.
anticipates cruelty and murder ; the child, who has yet
discerned nothing, foresees goodness and love.
We are struck with the slowness of the first progress
in our species, because we compare it incessantly with
that of the brutes ; but if we refuse all instinct to the child,
the promptitude of his development, must appear truly as-
tonishing. When we think that the young man born
blind, of whom I have spoken, aided by four senses, and
by the analogy between them, guided by mature reason, and
directed by men who could teach him how to use his new
sense ; when AVB think, I say, that this blind man was six
months before he knew how to manage himself, with re-
spect to external objects, and that after this time he often
committed great errors, can we deny that the child must
receive peculiar assistance when he begins to exert his
faculties ?
He is proportionably more advanced than the blind
man ; and though even ignorant that he has an appren-
ticeship to serve, he is better fitted to lead in the fore-
ground the apprenticeship of the five senses. As we
know that it is by means of the touch, that we rectify the
errors of sight, it would not be necessary to tell the blind
man that he must recognize with the hand, all the forms
which he perceives : with the infant such a practice would
be attended with danger, and could not even take place
until he had begun to make use of his hands, which he
does not do until he is five or six months old. However,
when he is eight or nine, that is to say, after a much
shorter experience than that of the blind man, he no long-
er deceives himself with respect to objects placed near
him. And what various knowledge has he not acquired in
the same time, before the means of enriching himself with
that of others, by language, was in his possession ? How
does he astonish us still more by the facility with which
he renders himself master of this acquirement ? Any
THE FIRST MONTHS. 135
common man whose vocabulary is not much more ex-
tended than that of a child of three years old who is well
developed, would, if he was transported into a new country,
employ the same three years in making- himself master of
a foreign language, and yet what immense advantages
would he not possess in a thousand respects over this child?
He is already familiar with the names of common things ;
he knows the use of language, and he knows its general
structure. He endeavors, in short, to instruct himself,
while the child does not think of such a thing.
If then the progress of children, on all points of their
apprenticeship, equals that of a man directed towards one
point only, is it not clear that there exists in their favor
special dispensations ; that is to say, that there is in them
an unknown source of knowledge, which we may call in-
stinct ?
We talk too much of experience : it plays a part in
certain respects, but it does not do every thing ; its influ-
ence, which is of a nature to be continually enlarging, is
distinguished in early infancy by its uncertainty and
slowness : thus, in whatever belongs to its domain, chil-
dren are forever repeating the same experiments ; they
have been shown five hundred times that to make an ob-
ject stand erect, it is necessary to place it on its base, and
they invariably lay it on the side : for three years together
they spill liquids out of the vessel that contains them, be-
fore they understand that it is necessary to hold the vessel
horizontally : it is because the association of ideas is very
slight in them, except when their feeling is excited. In
every thing that does not interest their little passions, ex-
perience is for a long time lost.
Is it asked what we shall gain for human nature, by
giving it a share of the instinct of animals? There is
every thing to gain for our dignity, I reply, if it brings
one proof more against materialism. These questions
have assumed importance, since many have endeavored
136 THE FIRST MONTHS.
to explain, by sensations purely physical, all the phenom-
ena of living beings. But what do they do with instinct
in this system ? From whence come, among animals,
those fears and hopes which seem as a prophetic inspira-
tion ? How, without model, do they execute those won-
derful constructions, of which some species only know
the secret?
Will they tell me these are inexplicable facts ? but that
is precisely what I myself say and in confessing the
impotency of material causes, I am obliged to recognize
an order of things more elevated. What matters it, that
I admit the same for inferior creatures ? If through the
intelligence of a feeble bird, I catch a glimpse of the divine
intelligence, I prostrate and humble myself. All that in
every species is admirable in itself, and above the faculties
that have been allotted to it, appears to me the effect of a
sublime instinct ; a direct ray from the light above. It is
that which has given to the bird the idea of a nest; to the
new-born infant, that of the affection he inspires ; to man,
that of perfection, of immortality, of infinity, of all that is
too grand or too excellent for him to have met with on the
earth : these are the involuntary and sacred feelings
which are not only in him, but which constitute him, and
without which he cannot comprehend himself.
How singular is the destiny of human opinions ! Scep-
tics first wished to make the animal a machine; and when,
afterwards, deceived by the similitude, they expected to
reduce man to the same state, it is found that the example
of the animal itself has destroyed the vain sophisms on
which they wished to support themselves.
The more we study children, the more I believe we
shall be forced to acknowledge in them innate tenden-
cies;* the more we shall be convinced that there are laws
* The phrase, innate tendencies, might be ambiguous, hrd not the
author explained that she means by it only a susceptibility of the
THE FIRST MONTHS. 137
imposed in their minds, laws which the mind imposes in
its turn on that which originates in feeling ; and the more
we shall discover that external objects but give an impulse
or furnish aliment to the soul.
More than five months passes away before the child
has an idea of taking up any thing with his hands ; their
design is for a long time unknown to him, and the extreme
slo wness with which h? discovers it, proves that this dis-
covery is with him the tardy work of experience. He
looks at things, and interests himself in persons long be-
fore this time ; and thus appears to have received more
immediately the use of sight. Moreover, I cannot suppose
with Berkley and other authors, that because the rays of
light cross each other in the pupil of the eye, the infant
begins by seeing objects reversed, and that he learns to
correct them only by habit. Images, without doubt, are
painted on his retina invertedly, as on ours ; but when he
i capable of comprehending that they represent real ex-
istences, he has already judged rationally of the position
of all things. The sensations which preceded this mo-
ment, will always, to us, remain enveloped in an impene-
trable cloud.
It is easy to observe the gropings of experience in the
manner by which the infant learns to employ the sense of
touch : that which he would seem likely to exert before
the others, is slow to obey the orders of the will. He
must in some degree receive the first notion of it from the
sense of sight, by which afterwards he brings it to per-
fection. And this is the way it is accomplished.
mind to receive ideas through the medium of the senses, and not
the existence of innate ideas ; the latter opinion, since the expo-
sitions of Locke, has found few supporters, and must throw us back
to the absurd doctrines of the realists. [D.]
12*
138 THE FIRST MONTHS.
As soon as the infant sees, he enjoys ; after having
smiled at faces, he soon smiles at every thing that
strikes his eyes. The pleasure of looking at what is bril-
liant, agitates him. He nutters, gesticulates, and it often
happens that his hand encounters the thing that attracts
his attention. Then he experiences an unexpected sensa-
tion ; he is astonished that an obstacle stops his move-
ments : at last, when a return of the same causes has in-
cessantly led to the same effects, he foresees what will be
the result of his gestures. He then holds out his little
hand with some design, but as he is not yet able to appre-
ciate distances ; to touch the object, or not to touch it, is a
game of chance with him. By dint of repeating this
game, he becomes a little more expert ; but it is not until
after he is seven or eight months old, that he can at once
lay his hand upon the thing desired.
The hand which lays hold of objects, and, in doing it,
measures distances, is certainly a very efficacious means
for the child, to learn the world in which he lives. Con-
trary to the opinion of some authors, I believe, however,
that before he can thus make use of it, he has already
conceived the idea that the same body can be seen and
touched at the same time ; and the bosom that has nour-
ished him has given him this idea. What makes me
think so is, that we see him advance his mouth towards
the objects that he wishes to touch, about three or four
weeks before he does his hand ; the habit also that he
soon acquires of putting every thing that he takes hold of,
in his mouth, will prove that the lips and the gums are
with him the organ of touch, which is oftenest excited,
and the most sensitive.
When the sensations of the infant are no longer uncon-
nected ; when sight and touch* concur to give him an idea
of the same object, he knows how to refer the most of his
impressions to their proper causes, and the threshhold of
THE FIRST MONTHS. 139
life is passed. The external world appears to him under
its real form, and from that time his intellect makes rapid
progress ; hut he has already commenced his first attempts
at language, which it will be very curious to observe.
At about the age of six weeks, when the smile and the
tears appear, we remark in the new-born infant a little
murmur, which is very sweet. It is an expression of sat-
isfaction, of comfort, which he utters when at ease. By
degrees these sounds become more accented : they then
present the genuine exercises of the voice : a warbling
with which the child amuses himself, perhaps a confused
imitation of the noise that we make in speaking to him.
Rousseau has happily mentioned certain dialogues, in
which the words of the nurse, and the inarticulate respon-
ses of the child, present nearly the same modulations: he
often addresses this warbling to inanimate objects, which
he does not distinguish from others ; for he may deceive
himself in seeing life where it is not, but he never can be
unmindful of it where it is. It is sometimes a button of
polished metal, sometimes a glass shining in the sun-
beams, to which he speaks ; he seems to tell them that
they are pretty ; that they give him pleasure : h seems to
manifest love for them : sometimes he utters little joyous
and piercing cries, as if to attract their attention ; however,
there is in this no real language, at least if we understand
by this term, a means voluntarily employed to exert an
influence : the child asks for nothing, he calls to nothing,
he expects no effect from his music.
The true language of the infant is his cries : he utters
them at first without design, obeying a law of his nature,
which makes him pour out his grief in this manner.
But when this grief has been often soothed, and its noisy
expression has become allied with the idea of succor in
the mind of the. child, he cries for the purpose of calling
it ; he has then entered the true province of language.
140 THE FIRST MONTHS.
The animated gestures, the act of reaching towards the
object of his desires, also commence with him involuntari-
ly, and afterwards become imperative from habit.
The first words of the child are quite another thing.
In pronouncing them, it pleases him to exercise a pecu-
liar faculty the power of attaching a sign to an object,
and he exerts it without being moved either by want or
passion. Does he see a dog pass in the street ? he imme-
diately speaks its name as well as he knows how but
he speaks it without any other motive than that of amuse-
ment : he is not actuated either by fear or hope. If he
was afraid of the dog, he would weep; if he desired to
have it near him, he would lean his body towards it, ut-
tering impatient cries ; but it is in a state of perfect tran-
quillity only that he names it ; if he experiences the least
emotion, he abandons words as a new and superfluous ac-
quisition, and returns to his real language of cries and
gesticulation. Speech is not yet an instrument for him,
and it is only at a much later period that he makes it
very useful.
It would certainly be very presumptuous to determine
on the origin of language in the human species, from the
first attempts of the faculty of speech among infants ; how-
ever, as it has been often said that language was born of
necessity, and that it was but cries brought to perfection,
I am very glad to testify, that, at least, it is not thus
with the child. I add, that he does not invent words him-
self ; and that he does but repeat, and that badly, those
which he has heard pronounced ; he does not even call an
animal by his cry, at least unless the example has been
given him to do so. Thus language, in its rudest state,
is the fruit of imitation or of teaching, and does not appear
to be prompted by nature.
When the child is almost a year old, he lisps his first
words, and tremblingly adventures his first steps. Al-
THE FIRST MONTHS. 141
ways in a state of absolute dependence, he possesses less
than all creatures living, of the same age, the means of
watching over his own safety; and yet he already displays
the two great prerogatives that elevate him much above
the animal creation. The faculty, of which I have just
been speaking, that of designating objects by established
signs, has been often noticed ; but there is another, al-
though less remarked upon, which developes itself much
sooner. I speak of that disposition so general in infancy,
which induces the child to interest himself in a multitude
of objects, entirely foreign to his instinct of preservation.
At six months, he no longer lives concentred in himself;
already the young existence manifests itself externally;
already the mind begins to form those extended relations
which must one day subject the material world to its do-
minion. The most intelligent animals have a circle of
interests which is very limited ; that which does not relate
to their safety or subsistence, is as nothing to them : they
love, but they do not admire ; and curiosity is a stranger
to them. The child, on the contrary, is amused with every
thing : he has pleasures which we might call disinterest-
ed, there is so little in their nature which is sensual :
the useful is nothing to him, and the beautiful already ex-
ists ; such as he imagines it, he tells of it, and his eyes
sparkle with admiration ; his little voice breaks forth in
hymns of praises, before he can discern what will be use-
ful, or what will hurt him.
There are, I believe, in the history of animals but two
facts which bear any analogy to this, and even in these
cases the resemblance is deceptive : one is, that of the kit-
ten, that appears to be diverted by stirring a suspended
ribbon, or by rolling a paper-ball upon the floor; but as
bodies in motion are all that attract his attention, there is
every reason to believe that they respond to his instinct
of hunting, and that he sees in them either mice, or the
142 THE FIRST MONTHS.
signs of their presence : the other manifests itself among
several little birds ; the nightingale, for example, ap-
proaches brilliant objects, and descends from his bough
to look at them ; the lark is in the same way attracted by
the lustre of glasses; but these are the effects of inqui-
etude, of fascination, perhaps of the hope of food : we see
not in them the expression of pure pleasure, like that
which children manifest ; they only feel real delight at
the sight of beautiful objects ; they only become attached
to them, recognize them when they see them again, and
conceive for them a sort of passion.
The pleasures of hearing are also vivid in young chil-
dren : noise is in general agreeable to them, and, above all,
music. We may remark on this subject that the pleas-
ures of hearing belong not as exclusively to our species,
as those of sight, since birds, like ourselves, are sensible
to harmony. This fact with respect to them, may per-
haps indicate another, and it may not be impossible that
the first musical impressions might leave traces as pro-
found among men, as among birds. We know the effect
which the first songs that they hear has upon these ;
creditable experience has taught us that the warbling of
a bird, presents an exact repetition of the sounds he has
listened to while very young ; and that if we take from
the nest the little one that is just fledged, and shut it up
with a bird of a different species, it will adopt the song of
its new companion.
It may be then that by frequently presenting to the ear
of the young infant, clear and agreeable modulations, we
might thus be spared a part of the care which we often so
laboriously take to perfect its organs at an after age : it is
at least certain that in families where music is habitually
cultivated, new pupils are formed with great facility. We
may also conjecture that the great difference between the
musical dispositions of neighboring countries, as, for
THE FIRST MONTHS. 143
example, the inhabitants on the opposite banks of the
Rhine, are but the result of first impressions. The song,
that charm so powerful to lull the griefs of infancy, would
be also the means of developing the germ of a charming
talent a talent that is cultivated too much as an art,
without sufficiently appreciating its moral influence, which
was known and employed by the ancients much better
than by us.
The intellectual education of infancy can consist only
in a preparation for the future exercise of reason. The
secret with respect to this, consists in fixing in the mind
of the child, by the interest which we ought to have the
art of exciting, perceptions otherwise too fugitive ; it is
essential that a collection of facts becomes imprinted upon
his memory, which may at some future day furnish points
of comparison for his judgment. But to collect these
facts, it is necessary that he give his attention to them.
Defect of attention in the pupil, and the confusion of mind
that results from it, is the obstacle that a teacher oftenest
meets with: this obstacle would be less liable to present
itself, if the first impressions of the child had been clear
and distinct. When his attention appears captivated by
some object, care should be taken not to divert him from
it: every thing which can excite his interest, or become a
subject of observation, serves to develop his faculties.
We must not, however, seek to redouble the intensity of
sensations purely material. We deaden or stupify'the
mind of the infant by stunning his feeble organs. To
toss him violently, to tickle him, to strike forcibly before
him on a table, to rap against a window, is to use rude and
mechanical means which suspend his cries only by paral-
ysing his faculties:* it is necessary, on the contrary, as
* And we might add, shaking a bell or rattle, loud and boisterous
singing, and violent rocking, all of which the judicious and tender
mother or nurse will avoid. [En.]
144 THE FIRST MONTHS.
much as we can, to mingle intelligence and feeling in
the diversions we procure for him. To caress before his
eyes a dog or a cat, would be to develop that sympathy
which the youngest children so easily feel for animals.
To show him a beautiful object, and make him examine
it in detail, would be to strengthen his attention, and also
to excite in him admiration, one of the finest emotions of
the soul. To make him observe and recognize imitated
figures, would be to awaken imagination in him ; there
is, in short, a thousand means of calling forth his budding
faculties. When once the mind has been brought into
play by some impression, it associates itself with it ; it un-
ravels it ; it gives clearness and precision to it while so
occupied ; and it is thus that the mind forms and exercises
itself. To vary without excess the sensations of the child,
and to call into action the moral powers as much as pos-
sible ; such is the education of the mind in infancy.
There is also one for the heart, which it is as much more
important to cultivate, as the dispositions that favor it are
more fugitive.
( 145 )
CHAPTER III.
DISPOSTIONS TO BE CULTIVATED IN THE FIRST TEAR.
" To love, is the beginning of morality." DOPONT DE NEMOURS,
To cultivate happy dispositions ; to give to them that
fixedness and permanence, which entitles them to the
name of qualities ; to raise these to the rank of virtues, by
imprinting upon them the seal of religion ; such, in rela-
tion to the formation of character, is the gradual progress
of a good education.
In early infancy, we can employ ourselves only about
the dispositions of the child. Some of these may be cul-
tivated, at an era, when it is yet impossible to combat any.
At all ages also, the best means of overcoming, or at least
of enfeebling bad inclinations, is to give continual exer-
cise to others.* ' Overcome evil by good,' is the admira-
* Would that this truth might be impressed upon the minds of all
mothers ; and then instead of correcting their children, only to awa-
ken in them bad passions, we should see them more frequently
diverting their attention from what is wrong, by gently presenting
some new object. A mother was one day correcting her little
daughter of two years old the child with her tiny hands returned
the blows in her mother's face. ' Emily,' said the lady, ' can you be
so naughty as to strike your mamma V ' Ma' strike Emily,' an-
swered the child, with a resentful look. This was the result of a
13
146 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED
ble precept of the gospel, and comprises the whole secret
of education.
In order sufficiently to feel the importance of the first
year, it is necessary to think of the power of education,
and the limits of this power : the effects of our cares are
limited, because we are only able to apply them to une-
qual faculties, that are not all susceptible of the same de-
velopment. The germs of all the human dispositions
have been given to the infant by nature, but these germs
have not all the same vigor. The feeble languish or de-
cay when circumstances are opposed to them : the strong
resist the influence of circumstances the most unfavorable,
and if culture is given to them they push out immense
shoots. In every individual the development of each
faculty has an assigned limit which it cannot pass ; it is
the province of education to enable him to attain unto
this limit, or to prevent him from arriving at it. It is
then only by the relative progress of the moral faculties,
that we may influence him ; but that alone would give
us very great power, if we knew the proper time to use it.
I know not if the first impressions are the strongest;
the extreme inconstancy of children would lead me to
doubt it ; but the first moments are the only ones when
we can be almost sure of placing in advance the develop-
ments Avhich we wish to cultivate ; it is then that we have
the greatest chance of obtaining an influence over the
measure of the various inclinations ; that is to say, over
the character.
feeling which is natural to all living creatures. The cat or dog,
when treated kindly, return, in their way, the gentle emotions ; if
beaten, they scratch or bite, or growl their resentment. And can
we expect that the little beings, who are men and women in minia-
ture, can, by a process of reasoning, bring their passions into subjec-
tion, to submit even to legitimate authority, when exercised in a
way, calculated to inflame their passions 1 [ED.]
THE FIRST YEAR. 147
It is very important to settle beforehand OUT ideas on
the dispositions that we desire to cultivate : if we surren-
der it entirely to nature, we leave all which she has sown
with her hands to grow at random. Here is the incon-
venience of that negative education, which we so much
love to boast of. When we have determined that nothing
shall be done, either to promote, or retard, or, as Rousseau
says, ' que rien ne soit fait' (that nothing shall be done,)
habits will be formed before we think of it ; we shall dis-
cover unexpected shoots which will quickly supplant
those we hoped to obtain ; we shall be obliged to submit
so much the more promptly to the necessity we had
been anxious to avoid, that of correction and restraint ; we
shall enter upon the prohibitory regimen, a resource sad
and uncertain. It is delightful to be employed only with
the education that upholds and encourages propensities ;
that which represses and restrains them, always comes
too soon for the mother, and often too late for the child.
There are flatterers of human nature, whom I will not
at this time stop to refute. I will not examine if all the
natural inclinations are of themselves lawful, if those that
we call selfish or malevolent, are of indispensable utility
for the defence or the preservation of the individual. As
far as they are necessary they are indestructible, and being
fetal to morality, and consequently to happiness, whenever
they pass this point, they are the enemies that education
ought naturally to combat. In the social state, they al-
ways present themselves in excess, and are of such force
that it is necessary to restrain and control them.
Happily, from the tenderest infancy we may cultivate
dispositions which either oppose or develop dangerous
inclinations. Certain habits which have a salutary influ-
ence on the moral tendencies, may be given to the infant
even before his character distinctly manifests itself A
calm and tranquil state of mind will quench the restless
148 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED
activity of his desires ; benevolence will direct his atten-
tion from himself, and make him feel in harmony with
his species. Such dispositions are easy to take care of;
we may call them natural, since it is only necessary to
banish whatever disturbs them ; and they are at the same
time the first in date, and the most important to cultivate.
A state of inward calm is produced by means of the
outward, and for this reason, among a thousand, it is al-
ways very necessary to keep little children from weeping.
This is something that scarcely needs recommending to
mothers, but perhaps they do not sufficiently study the
means of succeeding in it ; and they attribute to chance,
many of the cries that are not without a real cause.
Our influence over the dispositions of children is so
early, that we confound the effects of it with those of their
constitution. According to Condillac, habits differ from
natural inclinations, because they have a beginning ; but
the distinction is not easy to establish, since we have never
succeeded in detecting the beginning of habits : they are
liable to form themselves with singular promptitude- and
physical cares regularly bestowed, as they ought to be,
often cause them. Two events having followed each
other in immediate succession three or four times ; the
first will immediately give birth in the child to the expec-
tation of that which ought to follow, and a multitude of
pleasures and pains result to him from it, of which we are
the authors. I have said that the lessons of experience
make slow progress in infancy, because it is long before
the child can draw a conclusion from the facts which he
knows, sufficiently general to enable him to decide in
new cases. This is an act of the judgment above his
understanding ; but he retains a simple remembrance of
the association of impressions which succeed each other.
These become promptly and involuntarily connected in
the brain. There is, then, from the earliest age, more that
THE FIRST YEAR. 149
results from education than is thought for, and the part
which nature plays is difficult to determine.
The surest way for a vigilant mother is always to sup-
pose that tears have a cause : if she carefully seeks it, she
will find much more foundation for the grief, than she
imagines. Little children, whatever people say, are not
capricious ; a hope disappointed, a suffering felt or fore-
seen, is almost always the reason of their cries.
One means of preventing them will be to have as much
regularity as possible, in the daily routine of life ; for,
during infancy the utility of habit cannot be contested.
When the same impressions succeed each other in the
same order, the most painful will be thereby softened,
and the expectation of those which are agreeable will
never be deceived. Little children are extremely sensi-
tive to mistakes on this subject, which become to them a
source of bitter tears. Their passions, too strongly excited,
also have vent by weeping: and it is better to keep them
from violent emotions, even though agreeable ones. Con-
sequently, it will be salutary to avoid making them a wit-
ness to the preparations for their meals.* Desire, sharp-
ened by the sight of the object that can appease it, becomes
in them a painful eagerness. The certainty that this de-
sire will be satisfied, does not calm them, and hope is at
that time rather a pain than a pleasure.
With these, and other similar cares, we shall be able
to maintain in children an habitual calm of the soul, which
* We cannot agree with the author in this ; we have seen a child
often months, watch its nurse as she poured milk into a basin, put
bread into it, and then wait with patience till it was wanned at the
fire : at first, it could scarcely be pacified, when the operations
began, through its eagerness ; but at length it comprehended that a
certain process was to be gone through, at the end of which its de-
sues for food were to be gratified : this was a lesion for patience.
[Eo.]
150 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED
is of immense benefit, and yet easily lost, the most essen-
tial perhaps to their moral constitution, yet frail and fluc-
tuating. The nerves once violently shaken, are a long
time in being restored ; the health and the character
equally change. There is in every one a class of facul-
ties, and the most elevated, perhaps, which grow and ripen
only in the tutelary shade of repose : this has relation to
our finest intellectual endowments, as well as to our vir-
tues. There is nothing admirable, nothing great in moral
nature, of which serenity does not favor the development.
Serenity ! charming word, which is applicable only to
heaven and the soul, and seems to establish relations be-
tween them ; a state of existence where harmony reigns,
where the heart is at peace with itself and the universe !
In this perfect equilibrium, an intelligent mind easily
exerts its empire ; our various impulses become regulated,
and harmonize with the eternal government. Why is
this disposition so rare at the present day ? Why is it
necessary to seek, in the remembrances of antiquity, this
Je nc sais quoi, (I know not what) of pure, of elevated, of
tranquil, which calms and exalts the soul? Whence
comes it that we meet it in the rustic laborer rather than in
more accomplished minds ? In the less complicated social
relations, does man imbibe more easily the soft tint of
that nature which surrounds him, and can he not find
harmony even in the plenitude of his development ?
However it may be, if we do not disturb it, this happy
disposition will always be found in infancy. It shines
with a pure lustre in the eyes of the child ; it reposes
upon his expanding forehead. One, in whom reigns this
sweet serenity, seems glad to live ; to breathe, to see, to
move his little arms, is already a happiness for him. He
welcomes all nature with gratitude ; it seems as if the
young spirit took wing, and flew to meet her benefits.
Let us not touch him ; let us leave the child to delight
THE FIRST YEAR. 151
himseJ" with her ; let us fear to check the sweet harmony
that is formed within him. As long as his look, full of
intelligence, proves that his mind is occupied, let us never
interrupt the train of his ideas. Let us beware of restrain-
ing his mental activity ; it is more real and salutary, than
that which comes from us.
I believe that we often agitate chlidren too much : it is
not best to leave them to become weary, I grant : ennui is
a lethargy of the soul ; but that which incessantly leads
to such a malady, is the excess of the diversions that we
believe it necessary to give to young infants. One ex-
treme gives birth to its opposite, and calm situations are
the only ones that become indefinitely perpetual. The
more serenity a child has had, the more he will desire it ;
this disposition may be permanent, but it is not so with
gaiety. Even with the children who love her much, joy
is a passing inhabitant of this world ; she touches it with
a light foot. It is necessary to receive her always kindly,
sometimes gently to call her ; but when she is once ar-
rived, we ought not to animate her too much. Immode-
rately excited, she brings tears in her train,* she agitates
too violently the delicate fibres, which vibrate soon after
in an opposite extreme.
Consequently it is better to occupy little children with
things, than with persons. It is not, as I have said, that
* Thus we see when a child is carried much in the arms, it cries
when the exercise ceases ; and many mothers are so careless of the
future, as to indulge their infants in a habit of no advantage to
themselves, and of great trouble to those who take care of them.
A well-managed child after being carried abroad either to ride or
walk, will often cry on being brought within doors, but having nev-
er gained any thing by its cries, it soon stops and tiirns its attention
to something within its OMTI grasp. But the wise mother soon dis-
covers that too much excitement, by means of new objects, tends to
disturb her child's serenity. [Eo.]
152 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED
the distinction can be manifest to their eyes, but at least
things are among the tranquil objects which do not excite
them. With them, they make experiments, without think-
ing of it ; their judgment ripens by involuntary observa-
tions. With persons, on the contrary, their lives partake
of sympathy and antipathy. The action which living
beings exert over each other, puts all their passions in
play, and even this action is so much the more animated,
inasmuch as with children there is no communication of
thought, and every thing passes in the dominion of feel-
ing. Every one of their impressions producing an effect
and obtaining a response, all their desires are expressed
as soon as conceived ; hence tears and anger are of ne-
cessity perpetually changing situations. The impossibil-
ity of fixing upon any amusement, upon any train of ideas ;
a fatiguing inquietude ; that impatience, that mental dis-
turbance so injurious to all ; a state of irritation, injurious
to the health also, are the results of the action too long
continued which we exert over these little beings, and
that we permit them to exert over us.
An infant of six months, half lying in his cradle and
playing with his little hands, is in the happiest situ i.ion ;
it is the same at nine or ten months, when seated on a
thick carpet, he amuses himself with dispersing various
objects, that he endeavors afterwards to catch again.
While he is thus playing, you can return to your occupa-
tions ; a look, some token of intelligence from time to
time, is sufficient to tell him that he is protected, and his
security is perfect. Never deceive such a feeling. Go
to him, if he appears to suffer, or if his mental action be-
gins to languish, he can no longer amuse himself with
what surrounds him. Then, however, do not hasten, and
endeavor to give a short exercise to his patience : try to
make him attach a meaning to this simple word, wait.
If this word has always expressed a sacred promise, he
THE FIRST YEAR. 153
will learn from it gradually an important signification :
the child will comprehend that you are decided to succor
him, but that you have a vocation yourself, that he ought
to receive and not exact, and he will be more grateful and
more tractable for it.
A skilful G^rmin physician, M. Friedlander, was as-
tonished on arriving in France, to see to what extent they
endeavored to excite the vivacity of little children.*
4 It appears tome,' says he, 'that mothers play too much
with their children in the first era of life, and that they
too early excite their vivacity. In Germany, we often
hear mothers recommending it to their children to keep
still.'
What reflections are not suggested by this simple ob-
servation ! Who can determine the influence of this dif-
ference of conduct ! Who shall say if the remarkable
preponderance of the active faculties among one nation,
and of the contemplative among the other, may not be as-
signed to this same cause, which is reproduced under va-
rious forms during the course of education. Do we know
what we are doing, when we accelerate the progress of
the faculties in one of the great divisions of moral being,
and thus comparatively retard them in the other. Can
we judge to what extent the ones thus neglected, are of
themselves necessary, and how far necessary to counter-
balance others? It is undoubtedly difficult to give exer-
cise at pleasure to the faculties which, as their name indi-
cates, are purely passive or contemplative, but always re-
quire time and tranquillity for their development.
I know there are times of indisposition and suffering,
when we are obliged to divert children, and thereby keep
them in motion. But because there is something opposed
* Annals of Education by M. Guizot. Vol. i. p. 49.
154 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED
to the execution of the best plans, we ought not therefore
to lose sight of them. Mothers can acquire the talent of
breaking habits gaily, and taking advantage of happy mo-
ments to recommence anew. Everything is of consequence
in education, and nothing is irreparable,,; this is a truth we
cannot know too much.
From serenity will naturally spring benevolence,
another precious disposition which cannot be too highly
valued. In the healthiest state of the child, when the feel-
ing of existence is at once calm and animated, all the
natural sympathies act in him. An invincible attraction
unites him to his species ; the bond of humanity binds his
soul to theirs. We are made for attachments ; it pleases
us to commence together ; the wonderful gift of language,
sufficiently proves it. Love is the best thing in this life,
it will also be our portion and reward in eternity. It is
therefore to follow an indication of Providence as well as
to fulfil a sacred duty, when we open the heart of the child
to the sweet affections which must enrich his two ex-
istences. And if a feeling too intense is often in this life a
source of pain ; if it already costs the child many tears
when he dwells exclusively on a single object, benevo-
lence, that temperate disposition, by expanding in him
more and more, will moderate its excess.*
* This feeling of benevolence, or general good will, is better culti-
vated by letting a child become the alternate care of different indi-
viduals, than where a mother or a nurse devote themselves almost
wholly to it ; in the latter case, it fears the sight of strangers, refus-
es to be caressed even by the other members of the family, becomes
exacting and tyrannical towards the being over whom he finds he
possesses such vast power. Although he may for this individual
show much affection, it is a selfish one ; he loves her because she
is necessary to him. When the child is accustomed to the offices
and attentions of several, he becomes familiar with them, some-
times sees them engaged in other occupations than serving him,
THE FIRST YEAR. 155
"We do not expatiate sufficiently on the happiness at-
tached to benevolence; attention has been given to the
sweetness of being the object of it, more than to that of
experiencing the feeling. Nevertheless, he who is deeply
imbued with its spirit is happy above all others, and the
expression of contentment has already found a home in
his features. If we analyze the various agreeable ex-
pressions of the human face, perhaps we shall find that
they all participate of the expansive nature of benevolence,
that all possess this charm which dilates the heart ;
a regard to mere personal interest then, should incline
every individual to cultivate this happy disposition, if he
cannot be impelled to it from nobler motives.
In this respect, much of education which has been
careful in appearance, has been very imperfect. What a
difference is there in regard to benevolence in different
families ! for it is always by families that we find individ-
uals grouped together under this relation also. There
are those where a mere stranger receives a cordial wel-
come ; where a glow of kindness shines on every counte-
nance at his appearance : there are others where more
refined manners scarcely conceal a cold repulse. Benev-
olence is however a rural disposition, which often becomes
lost in the crowded city. Why do we cultivate so little,
that which would remove so many obstacles, that which
would so infallibly gain the heart, which would so easily
supply the place of the hundred thousand rules of eti-
quette, and would prepare children for the exercise of
that Christian charity, which is the true spirit of our duty
towards man ?
and learns to know what it is to love without selfishness, or to ex-
pect that those whom he loves are always to be devoted to him.
This is a lesson that mothers, as wives, should understand them-
selves, as well as teach to their children. [ED.]
156 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CULTIVATED
The fact is, we do not think of cultivating it. When
by chance, it exists, it is because we have permitted it to
do so ; not because we have called it into being. We love
better to prescribe than inspire; we supply the place of
feeling by precept, and our frigid mode of education is re-
duced to the art of restraining.
This art is however insufficient of itself. Our prohibi-
tions are always too numerous to be observed, and too
few to apply to every fault. We would not assuredly de-
sire our children to be subject to excesses of passion or
violence, but the number of blameable acts being infinite,
we cannot foresee them all in order to interdict them. It
is necessary then to address ourselves to impulses. It is
only through the heart, that we produce a salutary effect
at any age, and in infancy, it is sympathy alone that we
can call into action. But as the propensity to imitation,
the natural result of sympathy, can actuate either to good
or bad, it is as essential to bring children under the influ-
ence of feelings of benevolence as to preserve them from
those of hatred and malignity.
In relation to ihis last, if to none else, some mothers
have been well informed. All who have reflected on ed-
ucation, have felt the extreme importance of avoiding
every act of impatience or of anger every harsh accent,
or stern look that might strike the senses of little chil-
dren. 'A nurse' says M. Edgeworth, 'influences the dispo-
sition of the whole life. Children possess an inconceiva-
ble facility to receive inclinations, and partake impressions
of which they are yet incapable of appreciating the cause.
Countenances speak to them, when as yet they do not
comprehend words.' Here is an indication for mothers,
and this sympathy is a power that is given to them over
beings destitute of reason. By surrounding children with
smiling faces, expressive of sweetness, and benevolence,
we may soon communicate to their affectionate feelings.
THE FIRST YEAR. 157
No one knows how much we may gain towards gentle-
ness of character by using means like these ; they are
such as are employed hy the Quakers, and we ought to
take example from them in this respect. A very attentive
mother, who observed such precautions, told me that dur-
ing the first year of her daughter's life, a child of extreme
vivacity, no trace of anger could be perceived in her. It
is a rule of English education, always to speak very low
to little children.
Although the means of cultivating happy dispositions
are well known, and I have in part pointed them out my-
self, I will, nevertheless, retrace them here. The first,
which regards tranquillity, and this tranquillity mingled
with joy called serenity, consists in causing peace to reign
around the child, and if possible to surround it with agree-
able and tranquil objects; the second, to place about him
those persons only, in whom such dispositions actually
exist, as we would wish to excite in him. I say actually,
for affectation is here perfectly useless. Nothing equals
the coldness of children towards hypocritical demonstra-
tions, if not in sympathy with their natural inclinations.
The last means, in fine, when such disposition as benevo-
lence or friendship is of a nature to manifest itself by acts,
is to fix it in the spirit of the child, by obtaining from
him some material proof of his sentiments.
This last means, which is very powerful, ought to be
employed with discretion, for otherwise it will produce an
unfavorable effect. Do we wish, for example, to famil-
iarize the little child with a new-comer, at whose near
approach he has been frightened ? it is necessary at first,
that the stranger retire a little. When he is at some dis-
tance, if he assume a gracious air, and solicit a smile, we
shall see the little countenance brighten insensibly, but
something of fear still remains upon it. The nurse gent-
ly advancing him forward, we shall in a few moments
14
158 DISPOSITIONS TO BE CONSIDERED, ETC.
see the child playing in the arms of him, whom he had
at first feared ; but if she attempted to seize the little hand,
and put it prematurely in an unknown hand, the child
would utter cries of fear, and would not see the stranger
for a long time without repugnance. Thus, in cutting
short a budding disposition, she would have implanted
hatred, in the place of love.
Similar examples are incessantly renewed in education,
and in regarding them with attention we shall see how
often they are presented to us in life. The study of the
hearts of these young infants, is more instructive for ours
than we fancy. We find in them all our involuntary sen-
sations, all our first impressions. Imagination is in its
nature eternally young, and the child always lives in the
man, although every man does not exist in the child.
( 159 )
CHAPTER IV.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE
SECOND YEAR.
" The sensations accompany man at his entrance into the world,
and encompass him on every side; imagination, memory, andjudg"
ment, by degrees establish their empire, and people the desert
where feeling reigned alone." RIYAROL.
SEVERAL months usually pass away before the child
who. has begun to speak, has made great progress in lan-
guage. He learns, from time to time, a new word ; but as
long as these words remain scattered in his brain, and he
is unable to connect them together, the acquisitions that
he makes of this kind, appear quite independent of his
moral development, and have not much influence with
regard to it.
Nevertheless, this development is progressing, it ad-
vances even rapidly. If we could measure the steps of
intelligence, the first would appear the most wonderful.
The young faculties seem to pass as if by magic over an
immense distance; that which separates the purely sen-
sitive life of the child, from the intellectual life of the man :
at the age of which I speak, this step is not yet taken, but
is about to be. Desires, affections, pains, pleasures, every
thing is ardent, every thing is ingenuous in the child ; he
160 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR.
resembles us in many points, but he does not think in
words, and it is in this respect, above all, that he differs
from us.
It is with difficulty we can conceive such a manner of
existence : language is to us so familiar, that it forms a
part of ourselves, and we know not what we should be
without its assistance. Man is, to use the expression of
the Hebrews, a speaking soul : the succession of ideas is
but slightly interrupted within him. Children and ani-
mals are not so ; the same things present themselves to
their minds, and not the terms which are the signs of
them. For them to think, is to see again; it is to expe-
rience the sensations which the real object would have
excited. Every thing passes in their heads in pictures,
or rather in animated scenes, where life is partially re-
produced. As the various impressions, and even the
emotions, are the great means of development in infancy,
the child has been endowed with a singular avidity to
seek them, to multiply them without ceasing ; every thing
which promises a renewal of them gives him pleasure.
He has a passion for walking he runs towards the door
Avith vivacity, and the mere sight of his hat transports
him. If we are to take him out in a carriage, he nutters
with such impatience, that we can hardly hold him. The
commotion in, and about him, is his joy.
It is not only present objects which act upon the infant ;
their ideal representation also often possesses the same
power ; if he is seized with an ardent desire for some-
thing, every other feeling is for the moment suspended :
we endeavor to divert him ; but he sees not, he hears not,
and his mind is wholly fixed upon the image of the object
which can satisfy his wishes. Even when not under the
influence of any passion, th,e scenes which he has wit-
nessed may be renewed in his imagination, and agitate
him. A child who has been much amused during the
COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND TEAR. 161
day, cannot be lulled to sleep in the evening ; Ms eyes
shine with a bright lustre ; a deep red tinges his cheeks ;
his faculties, unquestionably too violently exercised, are
so occupied, that silence and darkness cannot make him
feel any weariness.
This existence, in all things external, as well as in all
present or remembered impressions, is prolonged beyond
the period when the child begins to talk. Numerous
traces of it remain in youth, and we may find it at every
age in men of imagination. In these, the succession of
distinct thoughts is less active than that of pictured scenes,
and the feelings which accompany them.* We are af-
fected in a similar mannner during our dreams. There
all is action, emotion, imagery : we are rather enthusiasts
than reasoners, and I doubt whether the most philosophic
heads occupy themselves much in their sleep with seek-
ing after truth.
These results of the quickness of sensation in a young
soul can easily be conceived ; but why is it that we are
not more astonished at the facility with which the young
child enters into the sphere of the moral world? Causes
altogether immaterial, causes, the action of which sup-
pose a development much more advanced than his own,
* The insane, in whom imagination becomes more vivid as the
light of reason fades, often experience this renewal of past impres-
sions so strongly as to believe that the scenes of other days or of
years long past are existing before them ; and we sometimes hear
them addressing, and as it were, holding conversations with friends
who have long been dead they weep or laugh, according to the
nature of the images before them ; one female who labored under
a malady of this nature for years, seemed to live almost wholly in
the past. On one occasion she laughed immoderately, and was
then heard to say, ' Oh grandmother, how queer you look in that
litle red cloak.' Her grandmother had been dead thirty years.
[ED.]
14*
162 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR.
produce upon him inexplicable effects. Our impressions,
our feelings are transmitted to the child, by means of in-
dications so light and irregular that we do not know how
he derives intelligence of them. Therefore it has not sur-
prised those who for want of reflection think it natural
that children should be like us ; and therefore it has hard-
ly been observed by those whose occupation it is to search
into causes.
To have recourse to instinct, is undoubtedly to abandon
the elucidation of such mysteries ; but it is however to in-
stinct alone that we can have recourse. It was necessary
that there should be a supernatural means, as it were, to
hold communication with the child before he could follow
the long route of associating signs with ideas ; we may
also recognize in him a faculty almost of divination, that
sympathetic comprehension which keeps him in the cur-
rent of our feelings. The same faculty which manifested
itself in the child of six weeks, has become greatly devel-
oped in one of a year old. At this age, a child who is
active, and consequently improved, reads impressions on
the features. You see reflected in him all the gradations
of your temper ; he does not know from whence these
changes proceed, but he partakes them, and in remaining
a stranger to the causes he associates himself with all the
effects. It is not precisely that he is sorrowful because
you have pain, or is joyful because you have pleasure :
for he does not conceive of his existence apart from yours,
He liv.es in you, and feels with you, without power to do
otherwise. He is a mirror where your moral state is
represented with an astonishing fidelity.
At a still later period in an infant of nine months old,
I witnessed a fact that I will relate here as an example.
The child was playing gaily upon his mother's knees,
when a woman entered the chamber whose countenance
was expressive of calm but deep sadness. This person
COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 163
whom he knew, without having any particular affection
for her, from that time fixed his attention. By degrees
his countenance became discomposed, his playthings fell
from his hands, and at last he threw himself weeping upon
his mother's bosom. It was not fear, nor pity, neither
was it compassion that affected him ; he suffered, and re-
lieved himself by tears.
Likewise, at the age of fifteen or sixteen months, a child
who is present at a grave lecture, and sees a thoughtful
expression on every face, is soon possessed with a certain
reverence, and if you do not prolong the time sufficiently
to weary him, the same effect will be produced on all
similar occasions : this explains how a religious feeling,
which is apparently too elevated to be experienced by in-
fancy, may germinate early in young souls. An impres-
sion which is at first without object, but which bears some
analogy to the solemn emotion a sincere worship can in-
spire, is communicated by sympathy to the child. He
feels that he is in a holy region, the idea that it possesses
something sacred is gradually admitted into his heart,
and when afterwards we speak to him of God as the in-
visible object of our adoration, the idea of a hidden power
no longer surprises him ; he believes that he has felt the
imposing effect of His presence.
These impressions are undoubtedly very transitory :
they are modifications which are as fugitive as shadows :
but the oftener they are repeated, the easier it will be to
reproduce them, and in a short time we shall see certain
inclinations arise from them which will be easy to culti-
vate. The progress of the human heart is the same thing :
impressions light at first, but often reiterated become more
and more decided ; they soon bring into the soul a dispo-
sition which always facilitates the renewal of them, and
thus prepares the way for those sentiments which influ-
ence our life.
164 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR.
A multitude of emotions, of passions, of divers impres-
sions which in a certain sense may be regarded as natural,
are communicated to the child by our agency ; the germs
of them existed in him undoubtedly, for it is necessary to
the rapid growth of any impulse that there should be al-
ready in the soul a disposition to receive it ; but this dis-
position may remain inert and dormant, and we ought al-
ways to distinguish the inclinations which infallibly man-
ifest themselves, and without exterior impulse, from those
whose expansion we may indefinitely retard. Thus ve-
hement complaint, impatience, resistance accompanied by
cries and violent gesticulations, are inevitable among chil-
dren ; but the desire of vengeance is not always so ; they
do not all wish to make others suffer, because they do.
And if in struggling they strike to the right and to the
left, it is without any intention of wounding, when they
have never seen in another the expression of such a de-
sign : this, at least, I am induced to believe is the case
with regard to some children ; but it will be necessary to
confirm this opinion by more precise observations.
The unreasonable fears which children often expe-
rience, are owing for the most part to the contagion of
example: this has been remarked by Rousseau a dan-
gerous guide sometimes, but often an excellent observer :
he also advises us to accustom children from the earliest
age to the sight of ugly and repulsive animals. They
have then but little idea of danger, and are liable to be
subject to antipathies, rather than to genuine fear. These
aversions are ordinarily the effect of surprise at the ap-
pearance of some striking object. They turn away, for
example, at the approach of a person clothed in black, but
they would voluntarily grow familiar with this one, soon-
er than with any other, if they lived in a family whose
members all wore mourning. In Africa, the little negroes
COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 165
are afraid of the whites, and it is the idea of a white devil
that terrifies them.*
The pleasure of exerting influence is already very
great in children of this age. If they feel sympathy,
they exact it also ; and it chagrins them when it is refus-
ed; likewise raillery, which is an insulting manner of
refusing it, shocks and mortifies them. All disagreement
between them and us, is painful to them, and they inces-
santly solicit returning concord. If they have once made
us smile by some pretty way, they will repeat it to satiety,
and think it hard if we smile no longer : when we do
not yield immediately to their desires, the refusal to oblige
them, afflicts them as much as the privation : often indeed
a sentiment of wounded pride impels them to disdain a
tardy offer ; they reject with scorn the object that they
would have obtained from our friendship, and then their
pouting lips, averted looks, and frowning brows manifest
the affront they have received.
* It would be profitable in infancy, to accustom children to obscu-
rity, which they are not yet afraid of: we ought only to be careful
to run to them at the slightest call : it is important at the same time
that the impression produced by night be not so novel as to be very
strong, and that they attach to it no idea of suffering, or of loneli-
ness, otherwise they would have met no sooner with some frightful
object than the image of it would be presented to them in darkness. A
child of two years old, on being asked the cause of his repugnance to
remaining in a gloomy place, replied, ' I do not love chimneysweep-
ers :' if he had been accustomed to obscurity, his imagination would
not probably have conjured up this phantom. Nevertheless, in re-
gard to this we cannot speak confidently : it may be that the com-
plete absence of sensation during the night naturally produces on
the soul a painful influence, and may be to it a state of bereave-
ment approaching to desolation and affright. But ttis is not ob-
servable in infancy. At that era, when we ought never to leave
children alone, the example of gaiety makes them easily endure the
privation of light. [Eo.]
166 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR.
It is consequently to carry too far the desire of harden-
ing little children to pain, when we refuse them the trib-
ute of a just pity in their sufferings. It would undoubt-
edly be inexpedient to agitate their nerves by caresses,
when we see them disposed to support with cheerfulness
little misfortunes ; but when they really feel sickness or
pain, we ought to pity them ; otherwise, we shall harden
their hearts, and soon they will lightly treat the sufferings
of others. When we have testified to them that we par-
ticipate their sufferings, it will also become easier to raise
their courage.*
From sympathy proceeds the propensity to imitation.
After having felt with us, the child wishes to act as we
do : this is very natural. He believes himself able to exe-
cute whatever he sees us do, and his attempts, at once grace-
ful and awkward, are a source of great amusement to us ;
we make them an object of pleasantry, so that similar en-
terprizes which were in him the effect of a serious desire,
we cause to become perverted. Natural endeavors at im-
* It is very easy 10 teach children to bear slight hurts with forti-
tude ; not indeed by neglecting them on such occasions, but by di-
verting their attention from their own feelings ; we may even teach
them to laugh at slight accidents; a child of eleven months old, in
its first attempts to walk had many falls, and when it met with one
which caused it to weep for a moment, it would soon stop and
change its wailing into a tone of laughter. Had it been pitied and
mourned over, the hurt would have been much longer remembered.
Indeed so fond are children of attention and devotedness, that they
usually make the most of an accident, when they see this is the
means of secitring them. It may be the best way to treat grown
people who are disposed to make their own ailments a subject of
discourse, not unfeelingly to repulse them, but gradually to turn
their thoughts to other subjects. In this way human beings might
be of great service to each other ; but alas, they are in many cases
disposed rather to trifle with, or take advantage of each other's
weaknesses, than to assist in conquering them ! [Eo.]
COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 167
itation are soon premeditated, almost affected, while he
k continues them for our diversion.
A lady receives a letter, and reads aloud some parts of
it to those who are about her, without dreaming that she
is heard by her child. He very soon seizes the first paper
that he can find, holds it up before his face, and pronounc-
es at hazard all the words which he remembers, connect-
ing them by a noise similar to that of language. If the
witnesses of this scene begin to laugh, the child does not
cease his reading. A glance, cast secretly upon his
mother, betrays in him a comic mixture of the gravity
which he wishes to preserve as actor, and the gaiety
which he partakes. Animated by success, he increases
his attempts more and more, and at last he is nothing but
a little buffoon, who wishes to make merriment. It did
not however begin in pleasantry, and he intended to give
himself to a serious occupation.
Thus our manners alter the simplicity of children, in
associating the idea of the effect which they produce on
us, with their first impressions ; but what quickness of
observation may we not suppose from one such scene,
and a thousand others of the same kind which I could
relate.* "Where has the child acquired this knowledge
of our nature, this skill in bufibonery, and this taste for
admiration, which has inflated his young heart? The
intelligence of sympathy with which he is endowed, is
unquestionably very different from that intelligence of
reason, which comes by means of words. But if one
had not preceded the other, all the words which express
the feelings, the affections, in short the moral ideas, would
long remain without any meaning to the child.
* Ail the facts which I have cited as examples have been actu-
ally witnessed. [En.]
168 COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR.
It may be that the interior of the child, moulds itself by
the exterior of others. He sees an action which he cop-
ies, accompanied by a certain expression of physiognomy
that he copies also ; and soon, at a future period, it be-
comes manifest within him. He becomes grave from im-
itation of the serious, tender from that of persons of sen-
sibility ; and once imbued with these sentiments, his soul
is more and more modified by them. This phenomenon
appears singular, but it is not without analogy in human
life. We see men endowed with the talent of mimicry,
who with the expression of countenance of those they
imitate, assume their manners and turn of mind; and
who often, when they attempt to speak like persons who
possess more originality than themselves, have ideas come
to them that they would otherwise never have originated.
Dress has its influence likewise, because it invests those
who wear it, with a countenance correspondent to its ap-
propriate character. The power of the military costume
is well known, and it has been proved in the English
schools that one of the best means of giving habits of or-
der, of sobriety, and a kind of ; dignity to unfortunate and
depraved children, was to clothe them decently. The ef-
fect of the outer upon the inner man exists at every period
of life, and like most of the effects of instinct, it is most
marked in children ; but our purely moral affections exert
over them an influence still more direct. It is more pow-
erful, more rapid, more electrical, if we may so speak ;
and it exists between the child and us, in secret and mys-
terious communications from soul to soul.
Whatever it may be, sympathy and imitation dispose
of every thing in these young creatures ; one, is the prin-
ciple of their sentiments; the other, of their actions.
Those poor children who are born blind do not walk, be-
cause they have not seen others walk. It is necessary
first to raise them, then to make them stand erect, and
COMMENCEMENT OF THE SECOND YEAR. 169
then to advance their feet one after the other. Take
away sympathy and imitation, and what will remain to
the child ? Faculties and inclinations, undoubtedly. Fac-
ulties put him in a situation to imitate us, and inclinations
determine his choice between objects of imitation. Chil-
dren do not copy every thing they see done : they follow
only the examples which correspond to their inclinations.
This source of diversity, joined to the difference of cir-
cumstances, is sufficient to explain the variety of charac-
ters we find among them, notwithstanding we always see
them choose only among such as -are offered to their ob-
servation.
Self-love, as we have seen it, derives its source from two
feelings, the pleasure that children experience in having
succeeded in some enterprize, and their desire to see us par-
ticipate in this pleasure. When, at ten or eleven months
old, they are able to raise themselves before a chair, they
cry, they gesticulate until we have remarked them ; tri-
umphant joy is paintea in their eyes, and our applause-
renders them tender and caressing.
It is thus that these divers elements, the necessity of
agreeable and varied sensations, such as acting, imitating,
influencing, exciting, and feeling sympathy, bring forth in
young children all the attributes of human nature. We
may see the whole retinue by the time they are a year old,
and if we had more penetration we should discover the
traces of them much earlier.
The power of imagination is already great at this age,
but I delay speaking of it, until the period when the child,
being in possession of language, we shall have a surer
method of appreciating its influence.
15
( 170)
CHAPTER V.
INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY.
" Nothing penetrates so sweetly and so deeply into the soul, as the
influence of example." LOCKE.
THE reign of sympathy in young children is the cause
of the power that we exert over them. So long as they but
imperfectly comprehended language, and were not at all
influenced by reason, we could only govern them by force,
if Heaven had not opened to us the way to their heart.
Instinct, which obliges them to live in harmony with us,
is the means designed by Providence to make them adopt
our sentiments insensibly, and to mould their will by ours.
As such an instinct endures but a little Avhile ; from the
time that it is no longer indispensable, it begins to be
withdrawn by the hand w r hich seemed to have lent it as a
supplement to intelligence. Soon the entire scene is
changed. When once we undertake to govern the child
by reason, that is to say by showing him that there is a
necessity imposed upon him by the nature of things, that
of thinking as we do, diminishes. He applies himself to
judge by our words, more than our dispositions ; he lives
for himself, and not for us. We should undoubtedly en-
deavor to make him abandon this selfishness at some fu-
ture day, but it is not yet time.
INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 171
Until your child is three or four years old, he has no
happiness but with you. His necessities, his pleasures,
the security which he wishes to enjoy, put him in your
power. Other children amuse him an instant, and soon
trouble him ; the little passions called into action interfere,
and the impossibility of being understood by them, brings
him back to you. But when once the young intelligence
has taken wing, when the easy use of language permits
them to propose a common design, and to agree together,
your child will escape from you continually. To run, to
jump, to climb, to exercise his powers with the compan-
ions of his sports, will be his true enjoyments ; they are
independent of you, and if you have not secured his affec-
tions in season, he may return to you from necessity, but
not from the effect of a voluntary choice.
I say more, at six years the tastes, the character are
almost formed ; at least there already exists an impression
very difficult to eflace. If the child is malicious, head-
strong, irritable, he will remain so until the era when a
new development will have had time to operate. If he
do not possess certain decided inclinations ; if flowers,
birds, and rural objects do not speak to his imagination,
it will not be easy to make him acquire a love of nature :
and a taste for the fine arts, which are but images of na-
ture, he will remain a stranger to ; if in short, social af-
fections, religious feeling, and a certain respect for ideas of
order and duty, are not manifest in his soul, I do not
assuredly pretend to say that all is lost, but I say that
the child was unhappily gifted, or that the parents have
already reason to reproach themselves seriously.
It seems as if we endeavored to shut our eyes upon the
importance of the first years: it is a period we speak of
with levity. Because a young child cannot comprehend
our conversation, because he is not susceptible of regular
instruction, we conclude that he is a being of so little
172 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY.
consequence, that his physical nature alone is to be re-
garded. As his life passes in play, we look upon him as
a plaything himself. Every thing in him seems insig-
nificant, because every thing is as yet undecided ; but if
this indecision were annihilated, we should no longer
possess power over him.
When you have permitted the favorable season of sym-
pathy to pass away without gathering its happy fruits,
such as the desire to please, to oblige, to assist the suffer-
ing,* a willingness to deprive self of pleasure in order to
bestow it upon others ; you soon reach an unwelcome
period, when the child will comprehend your exhortations
in a certain degree, without receiving any sensible in>
pression from them. Your reasonings will then be lis-
tened to, comprehended, perhaps approved, but they will
in reality produce little effect on him, because you would
call upon principles that would not have acquired sufficient
activity in his soul. The child will perceive, Avith indif-
ference, the logical train of the ideas; he will feel that they
truly follow the one from the other ; but it is their connec-
tion that he will admit, and not the ideas themselves. He
would be in the condition of one who hearing you add a
column of figures aloud, would judge that you proceeded;
regularly, and who if you said three and three make five,
Avould correct you ; but without its following from that,
that these numbers were representations of real value to
him.
* A child may have a desire to please, and to oblige, and to relieve
distress; but in order to render these feelings active, there must be in
the character a capacity of sell-denial, without which, the best dis-
positions are but as the blighted flowers of spring, which produce no
fruit. Self-denial cannot be too early taught the child ; and yet we
commend its fine feelings, its compassionate sympathy, without re-
flecting, that they cost nothing, and are indeed worth nothing, except
as they impel to action, and lead one to forget himself in doing for
another. [Eo.]
INFLVEXCE OF SYMPATHY. 173
It is thus that a child of six or seven years old often
listens to your moral discourses. He cannot contest their
principles, often indeed he appears to admit them with
pleasure ; if he has great facility of speech, perhaps he
will forthwith deduct some interesting consequence, but
do not depend too much on the results of his conviction.
When the heart is not already well disposed, such an ex-
ercise of the mind has but little influence upon the con-
duct.
The development of this fundamental perception might
encourage us much, and it would be actually premature
but I will however make this remark; since the child
was rendered capable of experiencing affections before he
could form any combination of ideas, must it not be that
the Creator commenced by preparing the elements which
were to compose his future morality ? If we lose the op-
portunity of communicating good feelings to the child, by
neglecting to avail ourselves of the aid of sympathy, tran-
sient as it is, we reverse an admirable order. Then,
when the season for which we have waited to undertake
the work is come, we have no proper lever to act with.
Our principles of morality become empty forms, to which
the heart responds nothing.
If the importance of the sentiments which we inspire in
very young children, were not proved, still it would be
necessary to suppose it : it would be at first the surest way ;
and afterwards, would be the means from which we should
have the most to hope for the future. All imaginable resour-
ces have been employed for other ages. Reason has done
what she could, and instruction likewise : punishments,
rewards, the extreme excitement of self-love, all the com-
mon artillery of education has been brought into play,
and often with very little advantage. The only thing that
has not been attempted, at least with regularity, is to give
a sort of positive education to infancy ; not only to remove
15*
174 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY.
from the child the example of evil, but to draw, him with
an imperceptible movement towards that which is good,
and make him enter life in a right direction.
Nevertheless, if this route has not been methodically
followed, yet how many times it has been by inspiration !
How many happy characters, how many amiable qualities
are owing to this sympathy of infancy, which mothers
know so well how to call forth, of which they always
make so sweet, and sometimes so judicious a use! But
what greater service could be rendered to early education,
than to extend and regulate, if possible, that which ten-
derness and good sense have often dictated to mothers ?
The means of influencing young children is well
known to them ; it is also truly pointed out by Providence,
since it first consists in loving them. It is the mother, or
rather it is her love, which excites sweet emotions in the
new-born soul : her looks, her caresses awaken affections
which only require to be brought forth. Without these
testimonies of attachment, such affections would perhaps
never be formed. An unfortunate child deprived of ma-
ternal caresses, might not, until very late, admit a ray of
love into his heart. He would then have tender feelings
in common with others ; and all the better kind possessed
by children, would lie dormant until an exterior impulse
called it into being. But of what consequence would it be
at what time this took place? Would they less surely
be animated by good inclinations ? What is more infalli-
ble than the love of mothers 1 In that nothing is acci-
dental, nothing depends upon circumstances, or even upon
the qualities of the child. It is not only for the preser-
vation of his frail existence that he has been confided to
the strongest of all instincts, but also because he possesses
a moral life ; his body and his young spirit have been
placed under the same safeguard, the most certain and
most powerful here below:
IN'FLCEXCE OF SYMPATHY. 175
The heart of the child then,' as we have seen, is active
before the intellect: the spark of feeling is the first to
kindle, as also the least liable to be extinguished. ' The
law of love which produces love,' says the illustrious
Chalmers, ' will be continued in eternity. It is the most
indelible trait of our nature ; the innocent creature yet in
the cradle manifests it, and we find it still existing in the
most hardened criminal. If an unhappy wretch, who ap-
pears dead to all morality, sees himself the object of a sin-
cere good will, a dawning of emotion is excited in his
withered heart, and he seems animated by a new princi- .
ple. !
It is so truly love which produces love in the child,
that he possesses an extraordinary tact for discovering it.
His preferences, which appear unaccountable, are founded
on an inconceivable divination in regard to this point.
Ugliness and the infirmities of age do not repulse him,
the most essential services affect him but little ; it is love
that he wants, love without beauty, without external grace,
without even a title to gratitude : but when he finds its
expression, the acts of kindness which prove it redouble
his attachment. On the other hand, his aversion for cold
and severe countenances is insurmountable.
It is the more necessary to avoid exciting this last im-
pression, inasmuch as nothing can result from it but evil.
Persons whom the child does not love, exert over him
only an unhappy influence : he imitates their bad examples,
and not their good. Fear, impatience, anger, are trans-
mitted from such, and hatred even facilitates the commu-
nication of them. But in order to possess the gentle af-
fections, it is necessary to love : tenderness is the warmth
which is essential for the development of goodly fruits.
It is the first nourishment, and like milk to the young
life, which can grow and strengthen only by means of
such an aliment.
176 INFLUENCE OF SYiMPATHY.
It is not enough, then, that children be benevolent,
they must love: benevolence opens the heart, but love
alone warms and fills it. It is more nearly allied to
greatness of soul than sympathy : the latter may exist, and
sometimes exerts too great an empire among feeble
minds ; but a certain moral vigor can alone render us ca-
pable of attachment. Therefore I would not advise to
turn aside the first affections of children Avithout important
reasons. A change of nurses or attendants is a crisis we
ought to spare them, if we can. If they have naturally
great sensibility, there is some danger in putting it to such
a proof: we have seen poor children who were separated
from those they loved most, imbibe a deep melancholy, and
die ; if on the contrary their affections are cold and fickle,
they will become more so from change : they will not be
fixed on any thing, and the child will soon manifest self-
ishness, a vice very odious in itself, and which corrupts
the first principles of education.
The jealousy of mothers induces them sometimes to re-
move inferior rivals, who seem to be usurping their place
in the hearts of the children ; but in so doing, they do not
understand their own interest. The affections may be
transplanted more easily than augmented. The senti-
ment already formed may change its object, but the diffi-
culty is, that it might require more power to turn away
the child from being occupied solely with himself. When
once he prefers himself to all others, there is no longer
hope of change; and the love of self is the most faithful of
all attachments.
At the age of five or six years, children almost always
adhere from choice to their mother. Queen of the man-
sion, the distributor of great favors, the only one in a sit-
uation to appreciate and reward merit ; for be her talents
and agreeable acquirements ever so small, she procures
pleasures and employs a power, the effect of which on
INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 177
young imaginations nothing can counterbalance. She
ought then to be tranquil about the future, and not forcibly
break old ties, that from their very nature will become
weakened.
It would be better however if the heart first declared
itself for the mother. Infidelity, which brings him back
to her, has nothing interesting in itself, and sometimes it
is very tardy in its operations. It results also from an ill-
concealed rivalry; from vanity in the child, who sees his
affections contented for; and sometimes from a shade of
hypocrisy. ' You pretend to prefer me,' said a mother
to her daughter, ' why then, when you are ill do you desire
that your attendant should take care of you rather than
me ? ' ' Because,' replied the child, ' when I am sick, I
forget that I ought to love you best.'
Moreover, we can acquire a knowledge of infancy, only
so far as we know how to inspire it with attachment.
In vain do we cherish our children, when we feel that
they do not love us ; we want that confidence, that self-
abandonment which makes us accessible to them ; our air
of inspection, of supervision, repels them ; they are con-
strained in our presence, and the great influence of sym-
pathy is exerted by others, rather than ourselves.
But what advice can be given relative to this period of
life, which ought not to be accompanied by restrictions,
and what prudence is not necessary in the management
of so much weakness ! If sympathy is too frequently
called into action, it renders children inconstant, suscepti-
ble in the extreme to all sorts of impressions. Thus a
powerful sentiment excites a tumult in their hearts ; it
often agitates them ; it moves them to a degree of which
we little thought : and considering the uncertainty of hu-
man things, it may, as I have said, expose them to much
sorrow. Violent and impassioned caresses are also bad
Miss Edgeworth advises mothers to prohibit them, and
178 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY.
physicians condemn them for other reasons. They are
also a source of future injustice, since at first they are lav-
ished merely as a boon, and are afterwards refused to the
real merit of the child. They may be also attended by
disastrous consequences, as they produce a thirst for love,
which, not being allayed in the second stage of infancy,
mingles sometimes with the impressions of another age,
and may augment its danger.
Let your caresses then be to encourage and to fortify,
if I may so speak ; let them possess gaiety without ex-
travagance, and above all banish from them a languishing
effeminacy. In proportion as you make them tokens of
approbation, you may give them a useful character.
This sweet exchange of sentiments is the only means
also of developing the intelligence of the child. Every
other language, except that of kindness, stupifies him, and
lessens him in his own eyes. Thus, I think it very
wrong to make frequent use of a harsh and threatening
accent, to turn little children from certain mischievous
acts : you make them suspend the action, I admit, but it is
because you disturb their feelings. You interrupt the
train of their ideas. They do nothing but weep, and when
they are appeased, they have forgotten the thing that OC'
cupied them ; but they do not imagine that you have for*
bidden it, and they recommence it on the first occasion.
When they give a meaning to our words, it is from sym-
pathy: the accent and the countenance explain it, and
hence the extreme inequality in their facility of compre-
hending us. If, then, you cut short this disposition by vi-
olence, they will understand you no longer. It is true,
that by dint of associating an impression of fear with the
idea of a certain act, they may at length abstain from it ;
it is thus animals are trained. But if you adopt this kind
of education with the child, he will soon receive from it
another. Witness of your anger, he will at once take
INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 179
example from you, and the injurious words with which
you load him, will hefore long be applied to yourself.
The instinct of imitation is stronger in children than fear;
and, unless we suppose an excess of severity, happily be-
come very rare, we are models to them, more than objects
of fear.
We find in animals, precisely the reverse. The fear
of each other acts upon the different species, while the
love of imitation is confined to those of the same species.
If you maltreat a dog, and he menaces you, he does it but
to defend himself, and not to imitate you. We do not
see, monkeys excepted, any living creature out of our spe-
cies, mimic our actions. In infancy, all copy the exam-
ple of father and mother, and particularly human crea-
tures. Never be angry, then, either with your child, or in
his presence. Until three or four years old, the most
virtuous indignation will be but anger in his eyes. You
would take his cause in hand, but soon the motive would
escape him, and the effect which struck his senses, would
alone act upon his sensitive imagination. When we think
of the immense advantage which men of self-possession
have over others in the world, we ought to seek to procure
this superiority for children.
In subjection, as he is by this condition, the young be-
ing nevertheless feels mentally free, and he possesses a
feeling of independence : at his age he understands noth-
ing of servility, of entreaty, of condescension, or even of
the effect of fear. The child of eighteen months acts as
he pleases; his weakness, and our power he does not
think of. His solicitations, which are never humble, be-
come orders but too easily. When he seeks to oblige
you, it is because he loves you, because he delights to
please you. If your threats succeed in frightening him
for a moment, recovered from his astonishment, he is
180 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY.
not the more docile for them ; and your anger, by bewil-
dering his mind, increases his disposition to irritability.*
Thus if we knew how to distinguish the results of our
conduct, we should see them increase with time, and al-
ways find them more extensive than we imagined. The
various stimulants to the moral development which I have
spoken of, sympathy, love, instinct of imitation, expecta-
tion of pleasures and pains, are so many threads which
may be woven by ourselves. The nature of the infant
is manifested by his avidity to receive sensations, by the
power which he soon manifests of employing them, of
transforming in a thousand ways the materials that we,
sooner or later, furnish to his mind. We influence chil-
* We sometimes see parents correcting very young children to
make them cease crying. The following fact, it is feared, is not the
only one of the kind which might be adduced. A gentleman was play-
ing with his child of a year old, who, as he thought unreasonably, be-
gan to cry. He ordered silence ; the child did not obey ; the father
then began to whip it, but this terrified the child, and increased its
cries. The mother interceded but in vain. The father thought the
child would be ruined unless it was made to yield, and renewed his
chastisement with increased severity. The child shrieked with
still more violence the mother in tears turned from the sight of
what she knew to be injudicious, and felt to be cruel ; but she knew
her husband thought himself in the right, and would be inflexible
to her entreaties; yet she often returned, as a momentary quiet
made her hope the scene was at an end ; but the child was quiet
only from exhaustion, and renewed its cries as soon as it regained
strength. At length it sunk into sleep, incapable of further effort,
and was delivered into the arms of the mother. On undressing it,
a pin was discovered sticking into its back, and thus the cause of
its first cries was ascertained. Both parents now watched in in-
tense agony over the sufferer, who in its disturbed sleep gave strong
indications of a tendency to convulsions; every nerve seemed agi-
tated, and convulsive sobs at intervals showed that even in sleep, the
mind was torn by terrifying fears. The father wisely resolved
never again to correct a young child to make it quiet. [En.]
INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY. 181
dren unintentionally by the effect of the most necessary
cares; the question is not, whether we modify the soul of
the child, but whether we do it understandingly.
To leave nature to act, in the most reasonable sense of
this expression, is to give the faculties an opportunity to
re-establish their equilibrium, when this has been destroyed
by misfortune. Then the free choice of the child ordina-
rily inclines him to fix upon the state which is most salu-
tary to him ; it exercises the faculties that have remained
inactive, and gives repose to those which we have too
much exercised, thus in a degree repairing our faults.
It is generally a prudent measure in education to make
alternate use of opposite situations. When calm and
activity, silence and noise, solitude and society succeed
each other at regular intervals, all is not disturbance and
confusion in the new-born infant ; each influence acting
in its turn, produces the good that is appropriate to it, and
we succeed in distinguishing its effect ; from this we infer,
that the little child should sometimes be left to himself,
and be permitted to manifest his own inclinations.
Therefore mechanical means of safety, such as. secure
him against accidents, have at least the advantage of pro-
curing some independence to the child. But on the con-
trary, those which, like leading-strings, oblige us to follow
them constantly ; which either subject him to our ca* -^
ces, or us to cares; those, I say, combine a bad moi.
effect with physical inconvenience.
But whatever hope we may found upon a tendency to
equilibrium in infancy, it would be very imprudent to de-
pend upon the energy of such a principle. Even were it
active enough to prevent the formation of bad inclina-
tions, it would never be sufficient to destroy them, when
once contracted. On the contrary, there is in every incli-
nation a preservative instinct, which incessantly nourishes
and strengthens it. So that if the inclination is danger-
16
182 INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY.
ous, what we call its nature, or the probable course of its
development is far from being favorable to future morality.
It is therefore true that the first propensity of the charac-
ter deserves our most serious attention, and that a talent
for observation,* is an inestimable gift to a mother.
* This talent must be cultivated by the mother who wishes either
the physical or moral well-being of her child. She must observe the
daily condition of its bowels, the effect which food of different kinds
has upon its stomach, or the effect of medicines, (if such are neces-
sary) she must observe what are the most favorable hours for its
sleep, and what degree of exercise and exposure it will bear es-
pecially must she observe what renders it fretful, and what has a
calming effect upon its spirits, and what is the best method of man-
aging its disposition : in short, much of a mother's duty is com-
prised in this one word, observation. Indeed, action is connected
with it; but few mothers fail in this most of them do enough for
their children ; but the difficulty is, their actions are too seldom the
result of observation. Some method is better than none, even though
it be a bad one. There is always hope that a person who seeks to
do right, will get into the right way : while of those who make no
effort, we can have no hope. [ED.]
( 183 )
CHAPTER VL
THE MEAN'S BY WHICH CHILDREN ACQUIRE LANGUAGE.
' De ma faible raison je fis 1'apprentissage ;
Trappe du son des mots, attentif am objets,
Je rfepetai les noms, Je distinguai les traits,
Je connus, je nommai, je caressai mon pfere.'
RACINE THE YOCNGR.
THE end of the second year is remarkable among chil-
dren for the rapid progress that they usually make in
speech. At this time they begin to express themselves
well, or ill ; but we may observe a great difference in
this respect ; the unequal distribution of nature's gifts are
already manifest. The art of speaking, requires the con-
currence of many faculties, moral and physical ; and if
any one of these remains undeveloped, it becomes an ob-
stacle in the way of improvement.
Indeed, to appreciate sounds, an ear is necessary, and to
articulate them with flexibility in the organs of the throat,
understanding. Mind is necessary to comprehend words,
and memory to retain them. When such gifts are found
united in an eminent degree, which is very rarely the
case, the child will speak very well at two years old.
But how has the child, who is so inferior to animals
of the same age in many respects, come in possession of
184 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN
this excellent gift of speech ? By what means has he ob-
tained it 1 This I could have wished to elucidate by mi-
nute observations, whereas I can only give a feeble outline.
The subject is far from being treated here, but I shall at
least have recommended it to the attention of mothers.
Nothing can be more interesting, than to see the under-
standing gradually emerge from the cloud that enveloped
it, soaring aloft each time that it discovers a new expres-
sion, and making its first acquirements the means of ob-
taining those of greater consequence. The child, a stran-
ger in the world of things which he yet scarcely knows,
soon feels the necessity of entering the world of words,
which correspond to them, and which will soon furnish
avenues to thought. At that time he commences a more
intellectual existence, where images of things, and the tu-
multuous desires which they excite, always reign, but
which he soon becomes able to tranquillize.
Aided by the intelligence of some mothers, I have col-
lected the following facts :
Words, separated by the young mind, from the sentence
to which they properly belong, occupy a place by them-
selves, in his memory. Of this number are, first, nouns,
or the signs attached to persons or things, which attract
the attention of children. They voluntarily repeat the
most striking syllable of these, that which has given the
idea of forming double syllables, of the first words we
teach them. These are nothing but the articulations
which constituted the natural warbling of the child, before
he began to speak. Thus, at the age of seven or eight
months, he constantly pronounces the syllables pa, ma, da,
but without attaching any meaning to them. When he
comes to associate them afterwards with the idea of cer-
tain objects, and thus to make a language of them, it is be-
cause we have given him the example, but perhaps Avith-
out being conscious of its effect.
ACQUIRE LANGUAGE.
185
It undoubtedly appears simple enough, that the child
learns to name material objects : when we have often
shown them to him, at the same time giving utterance to
certain sounds, the thing afterwards awakens the idea of
the word, and the word that of the thing. But it is more
difficult to conceive how he attaches a sign to that which
has no corporeal existence. Actions, for example, which
are always expressed or supposed by verbs, have no per-
manent type in nature ; they do not come within the scope
of the child's senses when he names them, and he says
4 go, ' at a time when one did not go. It must be that he
has the idea expressed by the verb, that this idea is at once
clear and flexible, and applies itself successively to every
circumstance of the action. Now, how has he conceived
a notion which seems to be an abstraction of the most
subtle kind ? It appears that it has been given to him by
gestures ; actions are the natural subjects of pantomime,
which we also call the language of action. We gesticu-
late a great deal with children, without thinking of it : they
are also great gesticulators themselves. If then a partic-
ular word has always accompanied a particular movement,
the two ideas become connected in their brain.
It is true there are several words which are verbs to us,
but not always so to them. Thus, ' to drink ' is to them
the idea of water, or milk : ' to walk ' is either the open
air, or the door. But when they begin to expect that we
shall act in consequence of these words, the action acquires
more and more consistency in their minds, and they at
length truly attach a sign to it.
It is worthy of remark that even animals comprehend
verbs, whenever they express an action. We ordinarily
make use of these words to dogs and horses, when we
wish them to obey us, and then we naturally employ them
in the imperative. The child as well as the negro, makes
use at first of the infinitive alone. As he forms no idea
16*
186 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN
of time, and as he does not comprehend pronouns until a
late period, he is reduced to this mode of speech.
Two words, which the child learns very readily, the
particles ' yes, ' and ' no, ' are also intepretations of ges-
tures. They designate the corporeal act of repulsing or
receiving, and thence become verbs ; these are ' will,' and
' wont. ' ' No, ' above all, is frequently employed by the
child ; it expresses in one word his repugnance ; but when
the thing offered to him is agreeable, he seizes it with
such eager vivacity, that the word becomes useless.
Some of the adjectives are next introduced into his
brain, and they are those which express sensations very
strikingly. ' Pretty,' is soon of this number, so great is
his desire to testify his admiration.
He at first makes use of various words without con-
necting them together ; but we can easily see that they are
assembled in his mind. Thus a child who sees his fath-
er and mother near the fire, immediately says 'Papa,
Mama, warm,' leaving out the intermediate words. At
this early period of development, children are continually
giving utterance to indifferent observations without any
other motive than the pleasure of expressing them.
In reflecting on this subject, we perceive that these three
kinds of words, nouns, verbs, and adjectives, pronounced
by infancy before any other, are truly the material, and, as
it were, the body of conversation. They express the
great concern of the soul as it regards this world, that of
distinguishing external objects by nouns, that of defining
its own impressions by adjectives, and lastly of announc-
ing its determinations by verbs. This is to know, to feel,
and to will. It is the whole man.
These words then are of great importance to the child ;
but how happens it that he finally employs others to which
it seems difficult that he should attach a meaning ? How
does he comprehend prepositions, conjunctions, adverbs,
ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 187
those terms without number, which, as it were, are instru-
ments with which we vary, separate, connect, or modify
in a thousand ways, the component parts of conversation ?
What use has he for ' with* 'as' 'for' ' although' 'very'
of which perhaps not one grown person in ten knows
how to define. He employs them very properly as soon
as he has acquired them ; but it is this acquirement which
appears so mysterious.
Some observations induce me to believe, that he does
not separate them from the sentence of which they form a
part. This^sentence appears to him to be one great word,
the meaning of which he divines by the power of his
wonderful sympathy ; a word which he repeats distinctly
if he has a correct ear and a flexible throat ; if otherwise,
he maims, or abridges it, but never decomposes it. And
when he afterwards finds the same terms in different sen-
tences, he does not immediately remember them. These
words are to him, what syllables are to us, when we con-
stantly meet them in conversation, without attaching any
sense to them. Nothing perhaps but reading can give us
a knowledge of the true formation of words. There-
fore, we see unlettered people, who write without having
read much, connect terms together in the most singular
manner, and unite, or divide them, at hazard.
Let us suppose that we say to the child, holding out
our hand at the same time, ' Will you come to the garden
with me ? ' he will repeat ' Yes, yes, come to the garden
with me ; ' the gesture, and the word ' garden,' having
been sufficient to make him understand. If, on the con-
trary, we said to him, making a repulsive sign ' I will
go into the garden without you !' he will repeat for a long
time in a mournful voice, ' Not without you, not without
you.' Hence we see, that although understanding cor-
rectly the entire sentence, he does not give a meaning to
every word.
188 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN
What gives most perplexity to the head of the poor
child, are pronouns. ' Me, ' and ' I, ' especially remain a
long time behind a cloud. As these words are alone ap-
plicable to him who pronounces them, we do not employ
them when we speak to the child of himself; without ever
being the object of them, he sees them changing their
object continually ; hence he has no idea of bringing them
into use. When he wishes to designate his own person,
he considers himself, if I may use the expression, out of
the body, and speaks of himself as another, using his own
name. 'Give to Albert, lead Albert,'* these _ are the ex-
pressions he employs. I have heard a child who was al-
ways spoken to in the second person, always use the sec-
ond person in mentioning himself. The introduction of
' I ' would be curious to observe.
On the other hand, such vestiges of the animal language
as we have preserved in our idioms, the cries which we
have adopted into the human language under the name of
interjections, the child seizes upon and applies with won-
derful quickness. The ' oh ! ' of unpleasant surprise ; is
never confounded by him with the ' ah ! ' of pleasure, nor
* In a letter from a friend now before me, she thus speaks of the
attempts of her little son, two years old, in the use of language : He
is fond of the garden, and says, ' Baby go weed gargy;' by night he
is very tired with his day's work, and says, ' Ma' get chair, take
baby, rock, shing.' ' Thus I find,' continues our observing corres-
pondent, 'that nouns and verbs pronounced after his own fashion,
constitute his vocabulary, with the exception of an occasional adjec-
tive, such as pretty pttss, good Ma ! ' Many children in their first
attempts to speak, call themselves ' baby,' speaking of themselves,
as the author remarks, in the third person ; one little girl, whose
mother used caressingly to call her darling, took the word, and
modulating it to suit her own imperfect articulation, appropriated
the cognomen of do.zgly, much to the wonder and amusement of
strangers, who would as vainly have sought for the origin, as we
of many of the terms in our language. [En.]
ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 189
with the reverential ' oh !' of prayer. Much time would
pass away before we could philosophically explain all
these ; but the young bird learns by intuition, the song of
his mother.
A question arose among several metaphysicians at the
close of the last century. They asked how it was possi-
ble that the child learns the use of generic names. That
he attaches a sign to a definite object, could be conceived,
but how comes he to apply it to a whole class of beings?
How is it that he gives the name of dog, to all the spe-
cies, however little resemblance they may bear to the first
he has heard thus called ? Does he form general ideas ?*
Does he know that the names of species, are applied to all
individuals combining certain qualities, and does he ab-
stractly consider these qualities, separating them from the
subject that possesses them ? This would be a great ef-
fort for a young mind.
Nevertheless, such, by profound thinkers, is believed
* The lady whose remarks upon her child's language, we have
quoted in another note, says. : My little boy was much delighted
a few days since with the sight of a chicken, the name of which
we pronounced as we showed him the object. In his imperfect
way, he imitated the word ; and when, the next day, he was carried
into the poultry yard, where were many chickens, he at once called
out tickee, tickee, having gone through with the mental process of
generalizing, as well as he could have done under the tuition of
Locke, or any other philosopher. Indeed, after all that is said about
this wonderful process, it seems to me the simplest thing in the
world. The child saw one chicken, and learned its name ; when he
saw other animals like it, his mind instantly perceived the resem-
blance, and he called them all chickens. And yet a process which
is so evidently suggested by nature in this simple and intelligible
manner, is, as I am informed by those better versed in speculative
philosophy than myself, made an occasion for great disputation. 1
We think our friend's practical philosophy worth volumes of specu-
lation. [Eo.]
190 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN
to be the fact ; but when metaphysicians have deigned to
occupy themselves with young children, they have, in my
opinion, attributed more of reason and less of intuition to
them, than they possess. The following is the opinion of
Locke on this subject, as it is cited with approbation by
Condillac.
' The ideas,' says he, ' that children form of the persons
with whom they associate, are resemblances of the persons
themselves, and are only particular ideas. The ideas
which they form of their nurse and their mother, are dis-
tinctly traced in their minds ; and, as so many faithful por-
traits, represent only these individuals. The names that
they give to them designate these individuals. Thus, the
names of "nurse" and " mama," which children make use
of, refer only to these persons. When, afterwards, time
and a greater knowledge of the world, has led them to ob-
serve that there are many other beings, who by certain
common relations of face and other qualities, resemble
their father, mother, and divers individuals whom they
are accustomed to see, they form an idea in which they
find all these beings equally participate, and they give to
it, as others do, the name of man. Thus they come in
possession of a generic name, and a general idea. In
which they form nothing new, but separating only from
the complex idea of Peter, James, Mary, and Elizabeth,
that which was peculiar to each one of them, they retain
only what is common to all.'
I do not deny, assuredly, that this reasoning is] very log-
ical, and I have nothing even to object to the early steps
of it : the child begins by giving a name to a particular
object, I acknowledge ; but the manner by which he passes
from that to the general idea, appears to me, not to have
been indicated to Locke by observation. To proceed by
separation, by retrenchment, that is to say by abstraction,
seems to me little conformed to the mind of the child.
ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 191
When he begins to express himself with more facility,
we shall see by the great number and singularity of his
associations, that he is nearer being a poet, than an ana-
lyst. The example chosen by Locke, is moreover one of
the least fitted to enlighten the subject, since it is precisely
in the case cited that a child would have the most trouble
to generalize his ideas. The individuals he lives with,
occupy so large a place in his mind ; he sees them so dis-
tinctly separated from others, that he cannot consent to
range them under the same denomination. A child of
two years old, would be astonished, he would laugh in
derision, if any body should tell him that his father is ' a
man.' What would he do, then, if we pretended, with
Locke, that his mother is one also ? A man, is to him an
unknown person a passer-by of the lower class. He
perceives undoubtedly that these unknown persons have
certain relations between them : but the particular idea of
which Locke speaks, is too strong in him, and cannot
stretch itself to generalization.
At this age, however, and even still earlier, children are
in the frequent use of general terms ; but the more vague
the idea of the object first named to them, the easier it
becomes to extend it to other objects. Thus the dogs
and horses, which they see at a distance, and therefore
indistinctly, easily form to them a species. So also when
they take in, at a single glance, several similar objects,
the particular idea of one among them not being so clearly
traced in their mind, they easily transfer it to others like
it, or only slightly different. Thus I have seen a chiL'
who gave the name of apricots to all fruits plums, cher-
ries, gooseberries, grapes, &c ; another who called by
the same name two little girls dressed alike. In the first
instance there is a simple awakening of ideas it is sen-
sation rather than judgment. In the other there is a strik-
ing point of resemblance. We might suppose that the
192 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN
child is deceived, and that he thinks he sees an object al-
ready known; but it is more correct to say that he thinks
nothing he does not decide whether the object is differ-
ent, or the same ; but the act of recognition is produced.*
This movement, prompt, unreflecting, almost mechanical,
which combines the identity of the image we preserve,
with that of the object which we see, is here the effect of
a simple analogy ; and is rather accidental, than the ope-
ration of the mind. But when this operation commences ;
when the examination is truly going on, differences are
appreciated, and each one of the various objects, calls for
its own sign.
The first naturalists, it is well known, proceeded in the
same way. They at first formed confused masses drawn
from vaguely conceived relations, or what we call a fami-
ly likeness. Thus they classed together under the names
of monkeys, and parrots, animals that have since been dis-
tributed into different groups. In proportion as we have
more minutely observed, divisions and subdivisions have
been multiplied.
We ought not to confound, with the true act of gener-
alization, the effect which the poverty of language natural-
ly produces among uncivilized people. When there are
but few words in an idiom, no word remains limited to its
original meaning, and the name of a known object is given
* "When this was written, I was not acquainted with the work of
M. Maine Biran, entitled ' Infaience dc I' Imbitude sur lafaciMt de
penser.' The author, who analyzes with great sagacity, many psy-
cological phenomena, expresses in scientific language, the same
ideas which I have advanced. According to him, a striking quality
in an object, may become a signe d' habitude, which mechanically
draws together the apparition of certain qualities, or associated im-
pressions. It is, says he in a note, on this first effect of the signcs d'
fuzbitude, that is founded the prompt and natural conversion of in-
dividual names into general and appellative terms. [En.]
ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 193
ail, slightly resembling it, which present themselves.
Thus, an inhabitant of one of the Pelew Ides, the Prince
Lee Boo, being arrived at Macao, and seeing there, for
the first time, a horse, immediately pronounced the name
of dog. an animal he was already acquainted with. If
the confused perceptions of the child, or the ignorance of
the savage led us to consider them as more inclined to
generalize ideas, than adults, or men of cultivated minds,
we should thereby contradict the whole history of the hu-
man mind. "Who does not know that the imagination is
quick, and the mind but little capable of abstraction, in the
infancy of individuals, and of savage natic:
This applies also to what has been said by another met-
aphysician, Thomas Reid, (Essay on the Intellectual
Powers of Man, page 1 10, chapter V.) * If it is asked at
what age men begin to form general conceptions, I reply :
on as a child can say, understandingly, that he has
two brothers or two sisters. From the moment that he
employs the plural, he must necessarily have general
ideas ; for no single individual possesses the nature, or ad-
mits the use of the plural 7
Undoubtedly an individual, singly considered, cannot
admit the use of the plural; but when the child sees two
objects at once, the impression he receives is not the same,
as when he perceives but one. To see two eyes in a
iace, or many soldiers in a battalion is not to possess gen-
eral ideas ; it is a recognition of the likeness of the ob-
jects which we take in at a single glance. Now, as the
effect produced on the child by this compounded perception
is new to him, he has read of a new way of designating
it, and he then makes use of the plural*
* These are the ' idees, emicrctlsj of Charles Bonnet, those which
represent collective names flock, city, people, names which always
17
194 MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN
That the names of species, that terms which express
the plural, are at length used by the child in the acquire-
ment of true general ideas is perfectly correct. Language
gradually gains a character in the mind ; it becomes in
turn an object, and the attention which is required for its
expression, ascends by the same process to abstraction,
properly so called.
The difference between children and ourselves, in this
respect, seems to me to proceed from the great difference
between our moral existence and theirs. Their life is
constituted of images, impressions, and desires ; words oc-
cupy but a very small place the child makes use of
them, but without reflecting on them. He sees things
always in the same light, and consequently he possesses
only particular ideas of them. Children have a wonder-
ful faculty of association. Things link together, and re-
ciprocally attract each other in their brain one image
awakens another, and language follows in their train.
When this language passes from one object to another, it
is by the influence of a relation less appreciated than felt,
and the child perceives distinctly neither analogy, or dif-
ference between them.
With those who reflect, it is otherwise : general terms,
such as that of species, designate a trait of resemblance
perfectly defined. They collect, as in a bundle, the re-
membrance of a multitude of individual names, and be-
come a means by which the mind can easily manage a
great mass of ideas. These terms become also a power-
answer to the sensation produced by similar objects seen at once.
This writer says that they, as well as simple -ideas, are pure results
of the action of objects upon the senses, and (like every thing
which appertains to the primitive laws of our being,) absolutely in-
dependent of all operations of the rnind. Essai Aiialytitfue SILT les
Facult&s, de I'dmc. [Eo.]
ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 195
fill aid to knowledge, an aid which has opened to man the
way to the sciences, and has subjected to him the physical
and moral world. But the more consequence we give to
words in the exercise of thought, the more imagination
retires, and its visions fade. The brilliant period of our
existence is that when imagination and feeling, equally
ardent and abounding, reciprocally act upon each other
in harmonious beauty. When it is no longer thus, when
the pictures of imagination are efiaced, and the feelings
which they excited grow cold; then words reign alone,
vain images of extinguished thoughts, deceitful represen-
tations which soon cease to produce even illusion. Such
would be the infallible act of age, if we did not preserve
in the soul a focus of life and warmth.
The physical faculties, all as remarkable in their kind
as the moral, contribute to facilitate the child in the ap-
prenticeship of language. This fact places in the strong-
est light the beautiful experiments upon the deaf and dumb,
published by M. Itard, an excellent observer, as well as a
skilful physician.* After having given the detail of his
experiments, this ingenuous man draws the following
conclusion ' Thus, says he, we have an undeniable
proof erf that superiority of vocal imitation, which the child
in infancy has over the adolescent a superiority founded
on two differences well ascertained and established by my
own experience from which it results, 1st, that the child
imitates of his own accord, while it is necessary to excite
the adolescent to imitation : 2d, that the child in order to
speak, has only to hear ; while, to perform the same func-
tion, the adolescent has need to listen and to look.'
We see afterwards, (page 502,) that M. Itard experienced
some difficulty when he wished to have sounds emitted
* Traite des maladies de I' oreille et de 1'audiuon t. 2. p. 281.
196 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN
and prolonged by the deaf and dumb, who had already,
(thanks to him,) the ear tolerably formed, but who knew
not how to govern their lungs and throat. It is necessary
to read these curious details in the book itself, in order to
comprehend what would be the art of speaking, if it was
necessary to study it methodically without having had na-
ture for our master in infancy.
But with what pleasure, what astonishing rapidity, does
the child advance in this study when once he has taken
the first steps ! Every day he makes use of new terms,
he attempts longer phrases. The amusement that he
finds in speaking is inexhaustible. When he sees a thing
that interests him, he repeats twenty times that he has
seen it, with a satisfaction of which we can have no idea.
He relates to himself what pleases him, the power of thus
prolonging the impression enchants him, and pride min-
gled with joy, beams in his eyes.
If the difficulty of articulating sounds stops him, he la-
bors hard, perhaps reddens, till he has given utterance to
the word. At first it costs him but little trouble, but by
degrees it becomes more difficult ; the accentuated syllable
which, in the beginning, had alone excited his attention,
is successively accompanied by all the others. He cor-
rects himself, and does not find that amusement in mang-
ling words,* of which children become but too sensible
afterwards: the satisfaction of speaking like grown people
is sufficient.
* On this point, we cannot but make a passing remark. The
lisping and broken articulation of infancy is pleasant to us, and we
are too apt to let children see that it is so ; nay, we often speak to
them ourselves in broken and inaccurate language ; but when we
reflect upon the importance of their early acquiring their vernacu-
lar tongue in its purity, we shall surely be careful how we confirm
them in habits, which it will be difficult, if not impossible, wholly to
change in more mature years. [En.]
ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 197
The child is so much oftener excited by pleasure, than
by want, that he makes much longer speeches when hap-
py than when grieved. He becomes eloquent when ani-
mated by gaiety or hope, but when affected by the contra-
ry, he does nothing but murmur ; and his talents vanish,
with his enjoyment
It seems, then, that this may be a particular dispensation
of Providence, in order that the child might learn to speak ;
therefore, the gifts which he has received, transient as they
are remarkable, have already lost their first virtue when
his mind is more developed. Children of five or six
years learn but few words. We see when they begin to
read, that they do not comprehend a multitude of terms
which are frequently used before them in conversation.
We could tell at once that they have acquired their little
treasure of words ; they repose themselves, and seek no
longer. They know how to give names to the portion of
the universe which interests them, and what exists beyond
they do not care for. A sort of instinct induces them
often to repel the new acquisitions which would interfere ei-
ther with their joy or their peace. They are content why
should they ask more? Their happiness is as secure as
if in the bosom of an enchanted island ; and the waves of
the external world rage unperceived around them.
Facility of expression, which is very unequal in children,
is not generally proportioned to the measure of their intel-
ligence. An agreeable and rapid elocution frequently
proves nothing but the talent of retaining set phrases ;
whilst a manner of speaking more laborious and less reg-
ular, denotes mental exertion and care to make expression
correspond with thought.* In the last case there is not
* Teachers are often deceivedin the capacities of their pupils by
this difference ; and should therefore be very careful how they de-
cide that one has talents because he is flippant, and another is dull,
because he finds it difficult to speak with fluency. TEo.]
17*
198 THE MEANS BY WHICH CHILDREN
less to hope for the future ; not but the memory of
words is in itself a valuable faculty ; but because it often
exempts from the combination of ideas, those who have no
taste for this particular exercise of the mind.
In the same way that a single sign may be used by
children to designate several objects, a single object is often
represented in their minds by different signs. Thus they
learn divers languages with extreme facility. Sounds are
connected in their memory like images ; and a word
leading in its train all the words by which it has been ac-
companied, dialects are not jumbled together in their lit-
tle discourses. Above all, there is no risk of confusion,
when the same person always addresses the child in the
same language. The idea of this person then connecting
itself in his memory with that of a certain manner of
speaking, he employs this manner in reply.
This is unquestionably an easy means of facilitating to
the child an important acquisition ; but I do not believe
that there results from it any great development of intelli-
gence; at least it would not be at all comparable to that
which may be obtained from the regular study of a lan-
guage. It is doubtful whether the purely practical know-
ledge of a dialect contributes much to form the mind.
Thus we do not see that the inhabitants of frontier countries,
who always know two languages at once, have more
ingenious minds than other men. And among the people
of the north, where children learn from the cradle to ex-
press themselves in several dialects, transcendent geniuses
do not seem to be more abundant than elsewhere, although
there is generally a facility of comprehension which is
very remarkable. We should find there facts, which it
would be very interesting to observe in relation to this
subject. The union of thought and language is so inti-
mate, that the effects of their first association would not be
indifferent. The influence of a polyglot education would
consequently be useful to study.
ACQUIRE LANGUAGE. 199
But the habit of speaking the mother tongue correctly,
will always be the most essential for children. A fault,
which although not considered serious, is nevertheless dif-
ficult to repair in education, is that of neglecting to employ,
in relation to this, the gifts so peculiar to infancy. The
ancients had not this error to reproach themselves with ;
and the care that they bestowed upon enunciation from the
cradle actually appears trifling and pedantic. But, in
countries above all where pronunciation is vicious, and
the expressions often so, the like care would be a happy
corrective to the evil effect of example. The point in
question is not only what is agreeable, but that which pos-
sesses the most powerful means of influencing the imag*
ination it cannot be considered frivolous to know. Lan-
guage is the expression of the soul, and what empire over
the happiness and morality of others, do we not exert by
means of it !
( 200 )
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD.
"Children forget injunctions and rules of conduct; it is necesary,
therefore, to make them perform indispensable duties, until they
form habits independent of Memory." LOCKE.
IT is necessary to take advantage of the character of in-
fancy, while it is in its purity. In . a short time every
thing is adulterated, every thing is changed ; we can no
longer distinguish what is natural, from what is acquired ;
the voluntary from the constrained movement. Children
soon feel a kind of shame at their singularities : they con-
ceal or repress the impressions which they have no hope
of seeing participated ; and they look in our faces in order
to discover what they ought to feel. The principal traits
of infancy, however, are not so soon effaced as we think,
and the traces of them remain unperceived. One may
live a long time with a little savage who is in a degree
outwardly civilized ; but in order to know him well, it is
necessary to observe him before he has made any advan-
ces in civilization.
OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 201
This study is less easy than it appears to be: before the
child knows how to speak, every thing seems confused in
his existence. His sense of perception, that by which he
connects and compares ideas, differs from ours in the high-
est degree ; but whatever may be its nature, we know it
not; and it presents in the child, as well as in animals, a
problem at once interesting, and impossible to resolve.
When afterwards we converse freely with him, and he
might serve to enlighten us himself, that which distin-
guishes him from us is no longer so striking ; and the
child, in appearance at least, already too much resembles
man. There is then a short interval more instructive
than all others to the observer, that, in which genuine
infancy exists, and unveils itself; it is the age between two
and four years. At that time the child is not yet upon
his guard, and his natural instincts, still in their original
vigor, seem to be even powerfully developed ; actions the
most numerous and diversified serve to interpret them.
Our social state is as yet but little comprehended by the
child, and he might inhabit another world as well as ours.
To see how he insensibly adopts our ideas ; how his will,
violent and impatient, gradually submits to the yoke of
example and of reason; how his young faculties, joined
to the dawning light of conscience, contribute, each one
following its natural course, to lay in him the foundation
of morality, is a curious examination, fitted to reveal to
us an admirable dispensation of Providence, a design that
we have only to conceive of in order to respect it.
Following the order of time, we shall first consider the
period when the soul has as yet no control over itself;
when the will, although apparently active, is truly pas-
sive ; since, yielding to the strongest inclination, it renders
obedience only to a blind impulse. In this state we gov-
ern children through the medium of their habits, the nat-
ural effects of our care and regularity. This means, which
202 OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD.
is gentle, although a little mechanical, ought unquestion-
ably not to be alone employed; but how shall we avoid
making use of it ? Habits are the necessary result of ed-
ucation, for we cannot prevent them from becoming form-
ed, except by an unequal and capricious conduct the
example of which would be infallibly imitated.
A remark, Avhich may seem a little paradoxical, is, that
the younger the child, the more his habits appertain to
his moral nature, to his soul. As he does not yet act by
his own power, he can only be accustomed to anticipate.
He waits for a certain succession of events, and his habits
partake only of fears and hopes: it is, consequently, over
the desires, the tastes, and the temper that their influence
is exerted ; and we do not see the little beings performing
a routine of actions void of thought, so as to give the idea
of mechanism. It is but a little later, when activity dis-
plays itself, and the pleasure attached to certain actions
begins to operate, that the soul can in any degree remain
uninfluenced by the movements which had at first gov-
erned it. Habits, then, have not, in earliest infancy, the
inconvenience which appears most inevitably attached to
them, that of benumbing the faculties ; and the extreme
pliability of children remains with them long enough to
enable us to mould them to circumstances.
There is, then, in the education of infancy, judiciously
conducted, an advantage, secondary it is true, but almost
impossible to supply, that of accustoming the child to ful-
fil his duties, without thinking of that multitude of actions
which merit not to be thought of, and which, however,
have their utility. In giving him habits of care to per-
form certain obligations, in some degree essential, such
as those imposed by our physical nature, and the tacit
agreement of society, is in effect to relieve the soul from
this care for the future. The more we take advantage of
the instinct of imitation in relation to this, the more we
OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD. 203
shall spare ourselves the chagrin of having to prescribe as
duties, things which are not so, and which, notwithstand-
ing, are almost indispensable. This is to render to the
pupil an invaluable service. What embarrassment!
what awkwardness ! what loss of time and thought, are
suffered even among men, by doubts with regard to the
propriety of the smallest acts !
This same faculty of association which facilitates to the
child the acquirement of language, gives birth to habits.
When the course of his life is very regular, his desires
succeed each other in an almost settled order, awakening
in him the image of certain objects, which have become
necessary to his enjoyment. No image is solitary in his
mind the frame-work, the appendages are not separated
from the principal subject, but make part of the idea that
he forms of it. I have seen a child of nine months old
weep bitterly, and refuse his breakfast, because the cup
and saucer and the spoon were not in their accustomed
position. By taking advantage of this disposition in little
children, we might easily give them the love of order.
The desire of seeing every thing ranged in its place, be-
comes natural to them, if we but manifest it in the slight-
est degree ourselves. When we think of the bitter re-
grets which the absence of orderly habits brings in its
train, we ought the more assiduously to endeavor to instil
them into children. A vague idea of duty is associated
with them and duty is itself perhaps but moral order of
the highest kind.
The love of neatness has the same source: a spot is a
derangement, a disorder. The natural disgust which is
associated with it adds the repugnance of the senses to
that of the mind. Modesty is also of the same family, and
there is nothing easier than to inspire in children that
instinctive modesty, which, when stripped of design, is but
the more innocent.
204 OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD.
This last object, too much neglected in early infancy,
is, notwithstanding, very important. At the risk of appear-
ing absurd, I will say that it is especially so for young
boys. Custom alone so severely imposes the law of de-
corum upon young girls, that, unless from singular neg-
lect, their manners in early life are not exposed to any
danger. But it is not the same with regard to men;
schools are a peril to them, and the manner in which the
child is affected by bad examples, depends entirely upon
his first impressions. Mothers ought, therefore, to be at-
tentive, they ought to inspect the nurse, and not permit her
to associate in the mind of the child the idea of pleasure
with indecency. The care of his own person should be
confided to him as early as possible, and he should attend
to its requirements in solitude. From that time he often
acquires a modesty apprehensive and almost severe ; but
how can we fear the excess of a quality, which is so near-
ly allied to dignity of soul ?
There are sentiments of morality apparently of the most
elevated kind, which proceed from a simple association of
ideas, and consequently from habit : such is respect for
the property of another. The child lives much through
the medium of his eyes ; the objects which he constantly
sees about the person that he loves, make part of herself
in his memory ; the clothes, the little appendages which
she uses, are of great consequence in his estimation; he
thinks of her accompanied by her attributes, as we see
the heathen gods ; and when he observes that she alone
makes use of these objects, he is persuaded that they be-
come a part of her. He is even jealous of them for her
sake, guards them like a faithful dog, and prevents others
from approaching them. I have seen a little girl of eigh-
teen months old, who would weep if any one touched the
basket of her nurse, in walking. One day, when the same
child saw a woman whom she did not know, carry a dress
OF THE HABITS AT TWO TEARS OLD. 205
of her mothers from the house, she uttered loud cries a
scene which was repeated on the morrow. Since then
she has manifested inquietude at the sight of strangers,
and when they depart with empty hands, she conducts
them with an affected politeness, that but ill conceals her
relief.
This sentiment which is easily increased by exercise,
may give a precocious integrity to very young children.
They possess it naturally, and can transfer it from one
person to another; being different in this respect from
dogs, who have a regard for their master alone, and then
only when they have been trained. Children of eighteen
months at the English school in Spitalfields, do not touch
the fruits of the garden ; and respect the little appropriated
grounds of their companions. It is true that the masters
set them a good example in this respect, and that they
never fail in restoring to the pupils their little playthings
after they have been sometimes deprived of them. This
precaution is very necessary, not only on account of the
powerful influence of the imitative instinct, but because it
may be possible to communicate the precious quality of
complaisance. It is only when the child is perfectly se-
cure from the fear of losing his own property, that it gives
him pleasure to make others enjoy it. He is sometimes
led by it to consider the right of lending, or of giving, as
the happiest privilege attached to possession ; and the
spirit of preservation may be even connected in his mind
with that of generosity.
The sentiment of general benevolence, which we should
endeavor to maintain, conducts so naturally to habits of
politeness, that we may almost lay aside the task of form-
ing them. It is only essential to strengthen them, before
timidity, the consequence of a self-love which is more de-
veloped, begins to manifest itself. Nevertheless, if the
course of a truly religious education was thoroughly
18
206 OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD.
followed, the child would pass insensibly from sympathy
to charity, to the love of others ; and savage pride or ir-
ritable vanity would not arise in him.
It is thus, that those qualities which are the happy fruits
of first habits, become confounded with natural qualities,
and that a similar charm is attached to them. We pos-
sess them modestly, without supposing that we could do
otherwise than possess them ; and he who would trace
them back to their origin, might see with gratitude one
of the greatest and most incontestible benefits that he could
owe to education.
( 207 )
-
CHAPTER II.
HABIT OF OBEDIENCE.
" The duty of obedience, is the only one comprehended by little
children." ELIZABETH HAMILTON.
OF all the habits of childhood, the most necessary to
form is that of obedience, since by means of it, we can
make or break, at will, all others. I here regard docility
as the result of habit ; although we might present it un-
der an aspect more elevated, and consider it as a moral
obligation. But at the tender age of which I speak, the
practice of obedience gradually awakens the idea of duty ;
whilst the idea of duty cannot as yet impose obedience.
In consulting observation, we see that there exists in
children an innate instinct of independence; it is also from
dispositions equally natural that their will submits to ours,
at least when we conduct ourselves with consistency and
firmness. They often adopt our desires through sympa-
thy; besides, they have often proved that it is useless to
resist us, and they at length feel that they belong to us,
and rejoice that they do. A little girl of a year old, no
sooner has a doll, than she regards it as her child, judging
that this tie of the heart renders her possession more com-
plete. So children soon comprehend that they are our
208 HABITS OF CHILDREN.
property; they see our love and solicitude, and this proves
to them that they are of all things most precious to us.
From a similar idea, imperfectly conceived, no doubt,
it follows that little children find naturally enough, that
we forbid them from certain acts. As it is often done for
their preservation, and sometimes for that of the material
objects which belong to us, there is nothing in the prohi-
bitions which astonish them, although they are constantly
forgetting them. But it is not the same with orders ; they
have more difficulty in comprehending them, and are less
docile in conforming to them ; and notwithstanding they
are often more agreeable, the commandment requires an
action whilst the prohibition interdicts one. Then if the
action is of a nature to please them, it is sufficient merely
to indicate it. To enjoin imperatively upon a little child
to execute an order repugnant to him, would be uselessly
to compromise our authority, which as yet is scarcely es-
tablished.
Such a distinction would not be on the whole admissi-
ble, since the principal design for which authority is con-
fided to us, the safety of the child, demands that we have
the power of commanding, as well as forbidding ; but it
seems, however, that in the difference of his submission in
the two cases, there is a discernment sufficiently refined
for the legitimate rights of a free being. The child is
weak, he is helpless ; we can deprive him of every thing,
even dispose of his person, because he has not the means
of resisting ; but his soul is independent. We cannot
make him act in defiance of himself, and he is astonished
at the attempt. There is a degree of nobleness in this
sentiment, a germ of dignity which ought not to be sup-
pressed with violence. To reconcile in the mind of the
child respect for firmness of character, with the necess-
ity of obtaining obedience from him, is perhaps one of the
difficulties of education, but not an insurmountable one.
HABITS OF CHILDREN. 209
Indeed, if the docility of infancy is composed of elements
the purest and most natural, there is nothing degrading to
the soul in such a disposition. Sympathy is a principle
exempt from baseness: to abstain from a useless effort is
the counsel of a dawning reason, perfectly conformed to
our reason : to believe that he belongs to his parents, is
the effect of a tendej confidence in the child, which will
at some future day be the source of filial devotion, a sub-
lime and touching principle, the only one among the hu-
man virtues that can merit the name of piety. A recip-
rocal possession, if I may so speak, is the distinctive char-
acter of that intimate relation of father and son, a relation
unique in the world for its sanctity, for the depth and dis-
interestedness of the sentiments which belong to it.
Thus, a long time before the period when the child
can be responsible for his motives, we may, without bring-
ing fear into action, or touching any other spring than
that of sympathy and the most simple foresight, we may,
I say, give him the habit of docility. From that time
notwithstanding the vicissitudes and the tumults which
our imperfect wisdom cannot, or does not know how al-
ways to prevent, we are generally in possession of power,
and it only remains to us to use it well.
It is astonishing that any distinction has been made in
this respect between the interests of children and our own,
since these interests must be the same in all cases. Ex-
cessive severity constitutes the torment of fathers and chil-
dren in every family where it exists, as much as the exer-
cise of a sweet and gentle authority sheds peace and hap-
piness around it.
Docility, it is said by some, has but a temporary merit :
it is not in itself a virtue, because the child is not destined
to yield forever, nor to yield to all the world.
This last point is assuredly indisputable ; but after all,
the child ought always to be obedient to something, and
18*
210 HABITS OF CHILDREN
never make his caprice his only law. Man in infancy
obeys his parents ; then, the idea of duty that they have
instilled into him ; and after that, the simple idea of duty,
which has acquired an independent growth within him.
The object of obedience alone changes, the virtue remains.
But even if we refuse to it this great name ; if submis-
sion be but the necessary condition on which to receive
the benefits of education, still it would be necessary that
this condition be fulfilled. Without the full enjoyment
of authority, the parents would not be able to acquit them-
selves of their noble task. Tell them to use power with
moderation, with justice ; but if you should go to them and
deprive them of its possession, their responsibility would
be annulled.*
That there existed in life an imperious obligation, a
duty august and sacred, without a legitimate means for
performing it, would be in itself contradictory. Now
there is nothing which can be more seriously imposed on
us, both by divine and human laws, than the care of bring-
ing up our children. All benefits of which we can form
* It is not left for the parent to choose between the exercise of his
power over his child, and its abdication. Kings may lay aside
their sceptres, but the authority of the parent is a divine right, a
delegation from on high, and must be maintained, however disagree-
able the duty may sometimes prove. Teachers as well as parents,
must, when occasion calls, assert their authority. They must gov-
ern, or be themselves despised and trampled upon by those, who are
penetrating enough to see that a shadow of power, without energy,
is contemptible. No one ever gained the affections of the young,
by thus shrinking to fulfil all the obligations which the care and ed-
ucation of others imposes. But it is seldom that a firm, decided,
energetic government does not obtain more than respect from those
who are the subjects of it ; if combined with affection and gentle-
ness of manners, it will always secure love in hearts capable of af-
fection. [Eo.]
HABITS OF CHILDREN. 211
any idea, safety, health, instruction, a good conscience,
the love of others, we ought as much as possible to give
to the enjoyment of our children. We are answerable for
these cherished beings before God and the world ; and would
authority, the only simple means of fulfilling our obliga-
tions, be refused to us ? And would not nature, in deliv-
ering them to us, feeble, naked, without reason, and with-
out knowledge, but lay a snare for us ? She would have
endowed us with all kinds of superiority in order to re-
duce us to the employment of artifice ! Virtue, knowledge
would suffice no longer ! It would be necessary to have
the subtlety of a diplomatist, and the talent of a comedian,
to invent, prepare, and enact scenes in order to accomplish
our best projects ; to obtain the smallest concessions from
infancy ! Ah ! if it were necessary to renounce truth,
paternity would be purchased at too dear a price !
I am yet speaking merely of the first rudiments of obe-
dience; but when I develope this great subject, we shall
see how those methods of persuasion, by which we often
attempt to obtain an influence over the will in education,
are false, weak, and absurd. We shall see how seldom
children are duped by them ; and that the conflict which
takes place between them and us, together with the dis-
simulation and reciprocal indecision which result from it,
are destructive even to the energy which we had designed
to establish by our management. The troubles arising
from a harsh and despotic education, are great ; but the
fault of enervating the will, cannot be laid to its charge.
An old sergeant, who has all his life been obedient to his
captain, fails not in firmness with his soldiers ; these, re-
stored to their homes, have habits rather too imperious ;
and in the energetic ages, the power of parents over chil-
dren was unlimited. The strength of the will, like most
of our qualities, is propagated by example, and it possesses
the same indecision, the same artifice, the same love of
procrastination.
212 HABITS OF CHILDREN.
But what decides the question is, that if parents aban-
don their rights in theory, they resume them when neces-
sary in practice ; and that such an opinion, if adopted,
would bring with it but contradictions and inconsistencies.
Never will they renounce the exercise of their authority ;
in this relation they cannot renounce it ; love is too great,
the interest too lively, the responsibility too strong. They
will not abjure human nature. When have we seen men
abstain from the exercise of power, when they are not re-
strained either by fear, or respect to mankind, or by con-
science ? And let us not believe that a frigid system of
education, can ever penetrate into the recesses of the heart.
Rousseau has in vain alarmed you on the lawfulness of
your empire ; as soon as your child shall expose himself,
I do not say to a real danger, but to a slight inconvenience,
imagining, perhaps, when he shall only importune you to
a certain point, you will take him in your arms, you will
carry him. Your scruples, your resolutions, your prin-
ciples, drawn from Emilie will be forgotten, and nature
will triumph. I shall do wrong then, you will say. Yes,
undoubtedly ; but the real wrong is, to have adopted" prin-
ciples which your holiest duties as well as your most ra-
tional sentiments oblige you to violate.
That a child who has not been early imbued with the
idea that the paternal will is something sacred, that a child
whom we have treated as an equal, in reasoning with
him, in persuading him, sees something odious in the bru-
tal abuse of force, is certainly not astonishing. The em-
ployment of reason supposes, in the being to whom it is
addressed, a right not to be convinced ; that of solicitation,
a right not to attempt the thing which they engage to do :
there is then treachery in your conduct, and rebellion;
frequently the loud cries of the child, will show that he
feels it to be so. You must expect that whenever in fu-
ture you recommence a course of reasoning, he will antici-
HABITS OF CHILDREN. 213
pate the result, and will listen to you but just so for as it
is necessary to put you in the wrong, by refuting you.
Hence proceeds an insupportable relationship, that of a
father and child, each timid and hypocritical in his man-
ner : each aiming to obtain his desire, without coming to
the point ; distrustful of each other, and finishing by ill-
humor or by open rupture. This last result is in fact
that which is most pleasing to the child. In order to
punish you, he obliges you to use violence, and compels
you to be a tyrant, for the want of knowing how to be a
father. Chicanery, selfishness, caprice, obstinacy, although
destitute of real firmness, are, alas ! the too ordinary fruits
of this imperfect subordination.
Too rigorous heretofore, domestic discipline, is now,
perhaps, too much weakened : if its principle is changed,
if it is no longer that of submission to power, it ought to be
that of submission to duty. It should be governed by a
spirit more pure, more moral that respect for the pa-
ternal will, which expresses to the child the will of God.
There is, in the education of infancy, a principal idea
which ought to predominate over all others, and serve as
a rallying point to them. This idea is that of protec-
tion. Let the mother, (since in speaking of very young
children, it is to her especially that I address myse f ) let
the mother invest herself strongly with this principle, and
the whole system of her conduct will be regulated by it.
She will see the happiest proportions established between
severity, and indulgence between love and firmness.
Without love, protection is not vigilant ; it will not extend
over the happiness, over all the interests of the young ex-
istence: without firmness and the degree of severity
which necessarily accompanies it, it is no longer protec-
tion. That which yields, cannot serve as a support ; and
the child wants to be supported. Not only has he need
of it, but he desires it ; his most constant tenderness is
214 HABITS OF CHILDREN.
purchased only at this price. If you are to him in effect
like another child, if you partake his passions, his contin^
ual changes, if you participate all his emotions, increasing
them whether it be by contradiction, or by an excess of
complaisance he will be able to use you as a plaything,
but not to be happy in your presence : he will weep, he
will mutiny, and a season of disorder and ill-humor will
be connected with your idea. You have not been the
protector of your child, you have not preserved him from
that perpetual fluctuation of the will, which is the malady
of feeble beings who are the sport of a feeble imagination;
you have neither secured his peace, his wisdom, or his
happiness why should he believe you to be his mother?
In truth the laws we shall impose will lead to contradic-
tions, and will associate the idea of evil, with certain ac-
tions in themselves innocent. But at the age of which I
speak, he does not yet act from the knowledge of good
and evil. The question is not, to enlighten the conscience
but to accustom the child to listen to its voice such as it
is. He has a morality derived from sympathy, the only
one he can have. Good, with him, is to satisfy those he
loves ; evil, to be blamed by them ; the poor child knows
nothing more of either. Even if he has done nothing, he
believes himself culpable, if he sees in the eyes of his
mother the expression of discontent ; and if he has caused
real sorrow, if in a moment of impatience he has struck
her, his repentance amounts almost to despair. On a sim-
ilar occasion I have seen a little child, who, without being
threatened or even rebuked, renounced all his plays, and,
his heart bursting with grief, went to conceal himself in
an obscure coxner, with his face turned against the wall.
Inconstant and variable as this sentiment is, it is, nev-
ertheless, the first dawning of conscience. The desire of
agreeing with his mother, will become in the child the
love of duty, the wish to harmonize with God, w r ith that
HABITS OF CHILDREN. 215
which can best represent him to us upon earth. This senti-
ment may be indeed exhausted by making too frequent
and injudicious calls upon it, in the same way that the
body is enfeebled by want of aliment, exercise, and social
intercourse ; but this is the fate of all sentiments belong-
ing to this world. All wither in inaction, as they wear
out by an imprudent and premature excitement. A child,
in whom the germ of conscience which exists in him
has not been cultivated, does not possess moral life.
To abstain, as Rousseau would have us, from imposing
any duty upon the child, before he had a knowledge of
the various social relations upon which his duties were
founded, would be to dissolve the most intimate and sacred
of these relations. At the age when the young man
knows exactly how to define the origin of family relations,
and their influence upon the organization of society, he
can almost do without his parents, and is no longer united
to them by the tie of necessity. It would besides be to
deviate from the natural path, which Rousseau intends to
follow so closely. Nature brings the affections into play,
a long time before reason ; she does not proceed in me-
thodical order : in her we can take hold of no beginning,
we cannot take her by surprise in her creations, and she
always seems but to develope. In the child every thing is
in the germ, nothing is yet expanded; the important point
is to teach him to act for himself. To suppose in him
principles, sentiments, and sometimes even knowledge
which he has not acquired, is often the best way of com-
municating all these in education.
In coming to the application, I shall here indicate the
best means of obtaining early obedience. In the begin-
ning, while the habits, yet passive, consist in the expec-
tation of our actions, the important point for us, is uniform-
ity of conduct. We ought to guard the child from surprises
which shock him, and rudely break the course of his
216 HABITS OF CHILDREN.
impressions. When the preparations for our designs per-
mit him to discover them, our intention, if always accom-
plished, will gradually become a law to him. In the same
manner that he has ceased to oppose our projects, he will
afterwards renounce the execution of his own, if he can
with certainty foresee our opposition. It is, at first, ac-
tions alone which establish our authority, for our words
produce no effect on little children, but when they an-
nounce our conduct. ' My dear, I am going to take
away this knife from you,' gradually becomes ' Lay down
the knife; 1 and one is equivalent to the other. We ought
not to prohibit what we cannot prevent, but we ought al-
ways to prevent what we have begun to prohibit. To
order active obedience , is, as I have said, dangerous to au-
thority ; and even with regard to prohibitions it is useless
to hope that the child will at first believe them permanent ;
he will see only the expression of your will for the mo-
ment. In vain have you wished to fetter him for the fu-
ture ; he does not comprehend your claims. ' You must
never climb upon the chairs,' is to him, ' I wish you not
to climb upon this chair now.' He will also disobey you
a long time, without real rebellion, in your presence, and
with greater inducement away from you, because he fears
nothing but your displeasure. But when he shall have
often associated the idea of your disapprobation, with that
of a certain act, he will at length abstain from performing
it. And if he passes from your hands only into those of
a person, who prevents the same things, by the same means
as yourself, by degrees he will feel himself under the
dominion of a law, which will control him even in thought.
It is above all necessary, when you would obtain sub-
mission, to beware of playfulness. This supposes equali-
ty, and as soon as we laugh, we may resign our authority.
Sport often with your child manifest to him the tender-
est love but, when once obedience is demanded, smile
HABITS OF CHILDREN. 217
o longer; caress no longer, do not even solicit. You
exercise a sacred right and the feeling of this right is
weakened in the soul of your child, as well as in yours,
whenever you employ such various resources.
Children will attempt, in a thousand ways, to accomplish
their little projects, or to disarm your resistance. En-
ticement, importunity, buffoonery, all are[in turn employed
by them. We often see them venturing a succession of
contradictions, so graduated that we cannot find a moment
to stop them. These attempts are owing to our feeble,
and undecided manner of commanding. We have spoken
lightly, and have been lightly listened to. Before pro-
nouncing any command, it is necessary that a greater
seriousness, something more imposing in the countenance,
should announce to the child that the mother speaks, and
that the companion of his sports has disappeared. An
expression of decision and calmness is then important.
If, instead of elevating the voice, we suddenly depress it,
we seem to address that which is the most closly connect-
ed with the child, his conscience.
The following is a penal code for children of two years
old, the observance of which might save severer measures.
Disobedience caused by forgetfulness. Opposition to
the continuance of the act, renewing the prohibition of it
amicably. Disobedience a little more voluntary. Assume
a serious air, and inform the child that if he repeats it, you
will deprive him of the means of disobeying. Disobedi-
ence entirely voluntary. Put the threat in execution, by
making, silently, such material arrangements as shall ren-
der disobedience impossible.
In this last case, the child ordinarily assumes ill-humor :
he seeks to punish you ; he caresses with affectation some
other person ; in short, he endeavors in every way to diso-
blige you. If he does not exceed the prescribed limits,
you will take no notice of his intention ; but if he is decided
19
218 HABITS OF CHILDREN.
upon rebellion ; if, vexed that you persist in not observ-
ing his light faults, he is determined to commit greater
ones ; then, since all the actions of the child are reprehen-
sible, you determine to put an end to them at once. With-
out saying a word, you take the little culprit by the hand,
and with seriousness and firmness seat him in a chair, or,
if you think proper, confine him in some other place. It is
then curious to observe how he mingles the bursting forth
of his cries, with a secret triumph that he has at last suc-
ceeded in moving you. Render this triumph as small as
possible, by preserving a perfect calm. This, by the way.
shows the danger of anger; which if indulged, would
give at once a bad example, and an unhallowed pleasure
to the child. Return quietly to your occupations, and be
assured that tears will soon cease, or change their nature :
in a short time, there will be a faint appeal to your com-
miseration, and the least regard to it will determine the
culprit to throw himself in your arms. There will then
be a moment of overflowing tears, and a reconciliation
tender and cordial. The child will say that he is sorry ;
a word more easily obtained, and more sincerely pro-
nounced, than a sad demand for pardon. You want the
expression of tender regret, that of a real return to good
temper ; you seek not the humiliation of your child.*
* We agree with the author, that it is not generally best to require
of very young children positive duties; and yet this may sometimes
be necessary. Difficult cases of government occasionally arise from
this necessity. Mrs. L. was teaching her little daughter, between
two and three years old, to count upon her fingers ; the child went
on very well to ten ; here she stopped ; the mother said ' ten, ' and
added ' you must remember the next time; it is the little finger,
and when you call the one before it nine, you will then think of
ten.' The process of counting was recommenced, but having said
nine, the child laughed and affected ignorance the mother began
to look serious, and said ' ten,' which the child repeated several
HABITS OF CHILDREN. 219
We here see how words and actions may be succes-
sively employed to great advantage ; when they are not
times successively after her. But, so often as the counting was re-
newed, the child stopped at ten, waiting for her mother to tell her.
At first, the mother thought she might have forgotten, but being at
length convinced that she was obstinate, she began to treat her with
severity. Telling her in the first place that she should punish her
if she refused to call the ten when she came to it, and at length seat-
ing her in disgrace at a distance from herself. After a long course
of discipline, varied in different ways, the little girl, who had main-
tained perfect self-command, said, ' I will be good, I will count ten. ;
She then began, and when she came to this number, as if making
a violent effort to conquer herself, she said ' ten/ and burst into a vi-
olent fit of weeping. Her mother soothed her, and told her how
much better it was to be obedient than to be wilful, and how she
had been pained to be obliged to punish her. She then required that
she should repeat the counting many times, in order to confirm her
obedience. Soon after, the child's aunt, Mrs. W., entered the room )
and her mother desired that she would show her aunt how many
she could count ; the child began, but when she had said nine, her
face reddened, and her countenance expressed the same determi-
nation*as she had before shown ; ' What is the next, Mama 1 ' said
she. Her aunt who understood the case, said, Come with me, and
took the child into her apartment, considering very properly that the
last offence was towards herself. Several hours of probation did
the little creature suffer before she would again yield. Yet she was
calm, very polite, and obedient in most other things. Her aunt
once told her to go into a corner of the room 'The child ' (that was
her way of calling herself, in imitation of her grandmother who al-
ways spoke of her in this manner,) 'will go,' says she, 'if aunt W.
will go and hold the candle.' After a series of experiments in or-
der to influence the will, it at length gave way to necessity, and the
little girl counted ten until her aunt ventured to restore her to her
mother ; who was not again disappointed in a return of obstinacy
on this point. But the same child, when learning to read would
sometimes stop at a particular letter or word which her mother
knew very well she understood. On these occasions she had only
to say, ' E. have you forgotten to count ten V and the hesitation was
at once overcome. Would not the character of this child have been
essentially different had she obtained a victory over her mother at
that time 1 [Eo.J
220 HABITS OF CHILDREN.
used at the same moment, it is easier to preserve calmness,
and we may produce more of an impression.
Scolding- and vociferation frighten children, more than
they correct them ; and cause more tears than true repent-
ance. It should he remembered that punishments (and
severe reprimands are the same thing,) are designed only
to ameliorate the dispositions of the heart ; every other
motive would make us reprehensible ; every other result
would declare us ignorant and unskilful. In education,
the duty of protecting happiness ought not to yield to any
but that of preserving innocence, which is a condition,
necessary to happiness, and ia of more value.
( 221 )
CHAPTER IIL
THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY.
''Activity is the truest pleasure of life, or, to speak more properly,
life itself.' 1 WILL. SCHLEGEL.
IF we doubted the innumerable benefits which the
goodness of God has shed on our existence, it would be
only necessary to look at little children. The simplest
events cause them joy unspeakable. Even the necessary
movements of life the acts of seeing, of walking, and of
speaking, are all sources of pleasure to them. The trans-
ports of these poor little beings, teach us to know the
worth, the intrinsic and primitive value of the thousand
benefits which our abundance causes us to overlook We
do not speak correctly when we say that habit has ren-
dered these enjoyments nugatory. We no longer experi-
ence their novelty ; but they still shed a certain charm upon
our days. In them lies the secret of our attachment to
life ; and when called to part with them, we feel thia to
be the case : we are insensible to the happiness they give,
because accustomed to it.
After the age of two years, a remarkable development
is ordinarily affected in children : there is more decision
in their desires, more motive in their will : every thing
in their manner of existence is less vague, and more sig'
19*
222 THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY.
nificant ; and their movements more rational, and more
graceful, have a more definite object. They form designs
independent of ours ; and their less passive existence, be-
comes more manifest in their conduct, as well as in their
little conversations. These two "different expressions of
it will be successively the subject of our examination.
The pleasure of exerting their powers, is inexhaustible
in children : it is sufficient for them to have the idea of
an action in order to try it, and all that they see performed,
they attempt to do. Thus they become interested in the
exterior of every thing ; they imitate our. movements, and
our various operations, without troubling themselves about
causes, or effects. Their mother puts a needle through
her work, their father traces black lines upon a paper ;
these are very natural amusements, in which they take
their part whenever they can. A pleasure is sufficient
in itself it does not need an object to induce them to
pursue it. But we feel the necessity of one as we progress
in life, inasmuch as the enjoyment attached to the simple
action becomes weakened.
Observe a flock of children of different ages. One just
beginning to walk, draws with pride a little empty car-
riage, the noise of the wheels behind him is sufficient for
his happiness; another, a little larger, takes possession of
the carriage, and must needs place a doll in it; one still
greater, thinks the doll must play a part ; at last, if the
carriage falls into the hands of a child five or six years
old, he will fill it with sand, grass, or straw ; he wishes to
perform field-labors, which have already some shadow of
reality. The pure and simple desire of activity, then, that
of the pleasures of imagination, and after wards that of real
or supposed activity these are the gradations of the
moral necessities of childhood.
To furnish continual food for the activity of children,
without employing stimulants which are too forcible, is
perhaps the epitome of education. It is the only means
THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY. 223
of advancing intelligence but at present, wisdom, or the
formation of character occupies us exclusively.
For this object the exercise of the moral faculties is ne-
cessary: external movements, sensations, where the soul is
passive, do not long suffice for children ; they may even
experience fatigue from them : the diversions of this kind
that we give them are often too prolonged, whilst mental
activity finds its own limit, and stops before it becomes
immoderate. We ought above all, then, to endeavor to
bring this activity into exercise. Ill temper, moral disor-
ganization, and frowardness in children, are almost always
caused by weariness : the secret of rendering them good,
is to occupy their minds.
In poor families, where the mother has good sense and
sweetness of temper, little children are perhaps more ra-
tional and more forward, than in any others ; they also
enjoy peculiar advantages. They become interested in
all they see; they understand and take a part in if. All
the occupations of the household are in their sight, and
they often participate in them. To wash, to spread out
the linen, to pull and cook the vegetables ; this succession
of varied labors which they witness, which they even aid
in executing, gives exercise to the mind, and inspires
them with the desire of being useful, at the same time that
it amuses them. Occupied, without occupying others,
their life is not taken up with self; and they have the
feeling of a common interest, in which each one concurs
according to his power. What can be better for a child ?
It is not thus in families where parents have another
vocation. Our more elevated occupations, our children
are absolutely strangers to ; and not leaving our minds
at liberty, cause them a mortal weariness. If we suspend
our labors from complaisance, they immediately see that
we seek to divert them : sometimes, also, we wish to caress
them, that they may love us ; and this intention, being too
224 THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY.
evident, becomes more difficult to accomplish. The child
is exacting, capricious, and difficult: the parents, who
seek to please him, are not destitute of affectation in their
efforts to place themselves upon a level with him : the in-
tercourse is in every way unnatural ; they meet not upon
the solid ground of services rendered, wishes satisfied, ac-
tions reciprocated : every thing passes in demonstrations,
in exhortations, in pleasantries that is to say, in words,
light things, addressed to beings already light.
It is then to divers plays, or in other words to the pleas-
ures of imagination, that we are obliged to have recourse,
in order to render ourselves agreeable in our families.
We hold these young minds under the empire of illusion,
and to exercise their activity, we furnish children in a
thousand diversions, with the means of imitating real life;
it is assuredly a great resource, and one favorable to the
progress of intelligence; but as far as it relates to charac-
ter, truths which would interest them, are of more value.
In this very important respect, we might turn to the
greatest advantage, the love of action which children
manifest. Feelings slowly developed, would easily re-
ceive an impulse frornjhe allurement of a pleasure so sim-
ple. Fraternal love, which is sometimes very tardy in
displaying itself, will serve me for an example. A young
child, who has for a long time been the sole object of the
cares and indulgence of his mother, often looks upon the
coming of a little rival with chagrin. Jealousy, that dis-
position of the elder brother, will be awakened, if we do
not guard against it. He is blamed, rebuked, and forced
to yield his playthings to the little babe as soon as it has
acquired a fancy for them. What is the consequence?
that he loves it every day a little less its appearance
awakens in him only painful thoughts he looks on it as
the cause of his sorrows, and a tone of contention and
envy becomes established between the children, which is
THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY. 225
often strengthened during their intervals for play, and is
sometimes but too much prolonged during life. You
might have prevented this unhappiness by giving to the
elder, as early as possible, an active part about the young-
er. If he had apparently aided in getting him to sleep,
in dressing him ; if, after having made him carefully sit
down, the little one had been placed upon his knees, the
most lively sympathy would have been called into action ;
he would have believed himself the protector of his broth-
er, and have conceived for him the tenderest affection.
Miss Hamilton, in her estimable work, relates a very
interesting fact. She saw in a part of the country bor-
dering on Scotland, two poor children, the elder of which,
at the age of three years, had been constantly left with the
care of his younger brother. He watched over him,
dressed, fed him, never abandoning him a moment ; ful-
filling all the duties of the most attentive mother. When
the hour of repast approached, he took his charge into the
hut, lighted a little fire, which he managed very skilfully,
and prepared the simple aliment which sustained them
both. ' Take care, Daniel,' said somebody to him, as he
gave food to his little charge ' take care not to burn
your brother.' ' There is no danger,' replied he, ' I al-
ways taste the first spoonful.' Very important results
might be drawn from such a recital. This elder brother
will not certainly be a selfish man !*
* Nothing is more true than that the more we do for one, the
dearer that object becomes. A young girl of eleven years, who had
long been the pet of the family, showed a desire to minister to her
little step-brother, and the mother was pleased to have her do it,
because she wished them to love each other. She would dress and
undress the baby when three or four months old, and at ten months
would persuade the nurse to let him sleep with her, getting up with
alacrity in the night, to warm his milk, when he was thirsty. This
devotion on her part, was returned by the lively affection of the in-
fant, whose eyes never sparkled with more sincere delight than when
his young sister stretched out her arms to take him. [ED.]
226 THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY.
We should do wrong, assuredly, if in thus seeking to
develope the affections, we commenced by demanding
sacrifices. We cannot obtain devotion, unless we permit
the sentiment to grow, which produces it. This is, how-
ever, the fault which we often commit. If a little beggar
comes to the gate, we talk to the child about il in a touch-
ing manner we exhort him to benevolence and the con-
clusion is, that he ought to give the bread or the pear
which he holds in his hand. This is a very bad method.
Send him to seek such food, or clothing, or such things,
in short, as will not fail to cause lively emotions of joy, in
the little indigent boy, and your child will soon feel such
a pleasure in giving, that in order to procure it he will
even deprive himself of his own portion.*
A sentiment, yet undecided, cannot successfully contend
either with personal interest, or self-love : it would be im-
prudent to bring it in competition with inclinations strong-
* There are few children, we think, who are not fond of giving
to the poor ; the books which twenty years ago were written for the
young, were careful to treat of benevolence as the most noble of all
the virtues and indeed when rightly understood it cannot be too
highly appreciated. But there is no generosity in a child's giving
away the property of his parents ; nor should the indiscriminate re-
lief of beggars be encouraged. We have known children of two
years old behave insolently to their parents, when forbidden to give
something valuable, to one whose claims to charity were of a dubi-
ous kind. They had read so many stories of generous children, that
they felt an ardor to distinguish themselves by some act, which
would entitle them to rank among the little heroes and heroines of
their imagination ; they were indignant at any opposition to their
noble purposes, and scarcely attempted to conceal their contempt
for what they thought the unfeelingness of their parents' hearts.
That generosity which involves self-denial, ca.nnot be too much
commended in children ; nor can we be too careful to teach them
to discriminate between acts of charity and such as encourage idle-
ness, and afford the means of indulgence to the intemperate and vi-
cious. [ED.]
THIRD TEAR. ACTIVITY. 227
er than itself; but strengthen it with exercise, let the re-
membrance of happy efforts, of enterprizes crowned with
success become associated with it, and the pleasure which
has proceeded from activity, will be referred to the senti-
ment. It will be fortified by the idea of the obstacles it
has surmounted, and will become truly capable of van-
quishing great ones.
A partial analysis would undoubtedly discover self-love
even here; but how shall we prevent an impure alloy
from mingling with our best impulses? When vanity
and sensuality in a word, when selfish motives occupy
the fore-ground, they are the ones which become strong
by exercise; the pleasure which activity gives, turns to their
profit ; but if they are in the shade ever so little, if motives
truly good and generous mingle with them, though it be
only in a small degree, the imagination will dwell on the
more noble sentiments. It is to them the child will at-
tribute the satisfaction he experiences. Hence, many of
the rewards which are of a doubtful tendency, and the
stimulants which address themselves to the bad passions
of the human heart, produce not, in the application of them,
all the evil which might be feared. Their influence be-
comes balanced in the soul, and the salutary results of ac-
tivity prevent in children the bad effects of the means em-
ployed to excite them. But, is this fact a sufficient justi-
fication for parents ?
The idea of turning to advantage the love of action in
children bringing them to an earlier acquaintance with
real life, animated by its various interests this idea, I
say, will at some future day assuredly become the princi-
pal pivot of education. We are already on the way to this
result,* and when we shall apply ourselves especially to
* I will quote, as an example of this" new mode, Hazlewood Insti-
tute in England, although I am far from adopting all the principles
which it has set before teachers in a very intellectual work ' On
Public Education.' [Eo.]
228 THIRD YEAR. ACTIVITY.
calling into action pure and disinterested feelings, we may
hope for real progress in the art of educating future gen-
erations. But, if teachers look more to the success of the
moment, than to the design of the efforts by which this
success is to be obtained; if they are less occupied with
the dispositions of the heart, than with outward acquire^
ments, they will never be able to give a full development
to all the faculties of the soul. When the moral qualities
do not reach their true grandeur, the intellectual powers
themselves will suffer from it. ' The beauty of the king's
daughter is tcithin" says the Psalmist.
( 229 )
CHAPTER IV.
PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH.
" We conjure you to sacrifice every thing to truth." SACBIS.
THE progress of the child as manifested in the acquire-
ment of language, is more interesting perhaps than in any
thing else. All is novel, characteristic, and is closely
connected with moral feeling. From the cradle, the in-
fant has more or less distinctly desired, loved, and exer-
cised his faculties and powers. His development in these
various respects, has operated by gradations so insensible,
that we have with difficulty followed the course of them,
and have supposed it to be nearly the same in every indi-
vidual : but from the moment the child speaks, the subject
brightens : his impressions, his thoughts, have each their
distinguishing seal we remember, we repeat his words.
It seems as if day had dawned upon his character and
mind, and that we shall henceforth know the beings we
have to deal with.
It would certainly be very essential to know this, but
some study is necessary in order to do it. Open and in-
genuous as children are, they are not always exactly sin-
cere; and we find in them a singular mixture of artifice
and simplicity. Sympathy, that instinct which is so re-
markably developed in them, tends rather to deceive them
20
230 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH.
in the use of language. While they are yet very young,
they believe it is made either to please others, or to obtain
their own desires, and not to declare truth, a thing of
which they have very little idea. Why should a child
endeavor to make his expressions correspond with facts ?
of what consequence is the past to him, the little history
of his daily life 1 he hardly preserves the remembrance of
it. That which interests him is to be caressed ; to have
us give him what he wants. In vain will you interrogate
him on what he has done, he will only give such answer
as he thinks will be agreeable. ' I have done what will
please you,' would be at the age of two years ; the most
natural response.
It is said to be the same with savages. A traveller
finds it very difficult to obtain from them the simplest di-
rections ; he cannot learn what route to follow, so much
are they occupied in discovering his interest, or rather
their own, in this occurrence; and all to whom 'j he ad-
dresses himself, will give different replies. A sort of de-
ceit seems innate in children. They learn to avoid false-
hood in words, but they still practise it in action ; for ac-
tions themselves are but falsehoods, when their object is to
manifest what is not true. Hence proceeds complicated
deceit, since it is a deceitful language which expresses a
false thing. The poor children however do not make
very profound combinations ; but they have, almost at birth,
inclinations to hypocrisy, at once prompt and subtle.
A child of eighteen months carefully conceals a little
basket which has been for a long time the object of his
covetousness ; then he places himself near his mother
very softly ; he wishes to be quiet, but too much agitated
to succeed in this, he fondles, he caresses her. His
blushes, his manner at the same time tender and embar-
rassed, the excess even of his demonstrations are sufficient
to betray him. Whence comes this augmentation of
PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 231
aril'Ction, for there is some sincerity in its manifestations 1
Does he feel more the value of the union, as he fears its
approaching rupture ? Has he some compassion for his
mother, because he thinks he has deprived her of a valued
possession? Does he give vent to his emotion by embrac-
es 1 What a profound mystery the heart is, even in the
tenderest infancy !
Another child borrows an attractive fan from a stran-
ger; then in the hope that she will forget to take it back
again, he successively carries her flowers, his old play-
things, or any article that he can lay his hand on,
offering them to her with the eagerness of the most mark-
ed politeness. Another asks for sugar-plums,* or the en-
joyment of a similar pleasure, for his little brother. Al-
most all avoid caressing their nurse in the presence of
their mother, so well do they understand the key to the
maternal heart
There is undoubtedly nothing more attractive, than the
graceful developments, the comic and piquant scenes, that
these little artifices give rise to. The stratagems of young
girls especially, have so much prettiness, the caresses
which accompany them are so beguiling, that one cannot
look upon them with severity : we laugh at these strata-
gems ; we relate them before their authors. This is a
greater error than we imagine, f Such means ought to
* The custom of visitors giving children presents has the effect to
render them selfish. No wise parent will encourage this practice.
We love to see the disinterested delight with which our children
welcome our friends-, but when we know that their pleasure arises
from the expectation of sugar-plums or toys, we feel mortified. And
yet if they hav reason to expect gifts on such occasions, how natu-
ral that they should think more of these than of the givers. [D.]
t More than one evil arises from relating before children their
clever sayings and doings; besides the bad effect, which the author
232 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH.
be known for what they are, those of artifice ; and with
woman particularly, perfect rectitude is the best safeguard
on which she can rely. The obligation to sincerity is
most imperative upon her. Living iii a state of depen-
dence in which she owes an account of her conduct to him
who is her guide and protector, how shall he direct her,
how shall he confide in her, if her accounts are not faith-
ful? In aiming a blow at truth, she escapes from her
obedience, and the beauty of the conjugal relation is de-
stroyed.
But of what importance is not truth to the human char-
acter ? The influence of this principle upon all the moral
qualities is so great, that it seems useless to single any.
The connection of vice and falsehood is inevitable. We
learn at first to dissemble because we do evil, we continue
to do evil because we have learned to dissemble. These
observations cannot be disputed ; they are received maxims ;
every one knows that sincerity is a virtue securing all
others ; but it is not sufficiently felt in education, that the
possession of this virtue is of pressing, immediate and
personal interest to every pupil. We are not aware of the
dignity which the most trifling thought acquires from the
fact of its veracity. This demands some explanation.
Invisible and immaterial in its essence, the soul can
only manifest itself by actions and language. Striking
has mentioned, of laughing at their little artifices, and repeating
them, it renders them vain and affected, to be too much noticed.
A fond mother was relating to her company some of the remarka-
ble speeches of her little daughter three years old ; the child who
stood by listening with great satisfaction, at length pulled her moth-
er by the sleeve, and said, ' now tell them what I said' about Mrs.
A.' Will this child or the mother be accountable for the weak-
ness which maturer years will but \nore strikingly exhibit in her
character 7 [En.]
PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 233
and resolute actions, are sufficient to declare mental ex-
cellence to all eyes ; but these are rare in life. The
greater part of human kind, under the restraints of ne-
cessity and habits, pass their days without disclosing the
inner recesses of the heart by external acts.
It is nevertheless very important for us to know each
other. Events are so uncertain ; social relations become
combined and multiplied in such a variety of ways, that
none can tell if the feeblest ties will not suddenly be
strengthened : and if an individual now indifferent, may
not hereafter influence our destiny. There is a moral
character to be unfolded in nations, governments and fam-
ilies ; wherefore in all its relations, more or less general,
this question occupies the world at large ; and gives exer-
cise to all minds from the idlest gossip, to the most en-
lightened politician.
Our projects for the future, although founded upon con-
jecture, nevertheless rest upon some data. We fancy that
we know what would be on certain occasions, the conduct
of certain persons ; and we owe this knowledge, whether
more or less correct, to the study of his character. If such
a study was impossible, if one possessed a nature so re-
served and intricate that we could not penetrate it, his ex-
istence would be as nothing to us. Never being able to
depend upon him, we should leave him silently, and seek
truth elsewhere. This is the case when we meet with the
false, and affected: and with all those who have cut the
link of communication between their soul and ours.
They are insignificant in all their doings. If they amuse
or instruct us, it is like books ; if they serve us it is like
machines. But in themselves they are nobody ; to us,
they do not possess reality. In destroying their natural
character, they have in a manner committed moral suicide,
and their existence remains unnoticed. We see them dis-
20*
234 PFOGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH.
puting about nothing, throwing out gestures and strong
expressions no one heed's them ; we smile, and pass on.
Words, this means of communication so charming, and
so easy, words have not in themselves any fixed value :
they acquire what they possess, from the individual who
uses them ; and we discover it by indications very deli-
cate, but which taken together, rarely deceive. This val-
ue may be very great. A word, pronounced by a certain
man, answers for his conduct forever ; it is as a part of him-
self ; he will maintain it, cost what it will. His slightest
expression bears the imprint of his great soul, and pro-
duces a profound impression. On the contrary, the
strongest protestations from certain other men pass for
nothing; they are useless notes, the signature of which is
disregarded.
In obliging your child to adhere to truth then, you in-
sure his moral existence, which is of more consequence
to him than that which is merely physical, since life must
be but wretched to those who abandoning veracity are
constantly exposed to the most humiliating trials. No
one speaks of those secret troubles which are the bitter
fruits of the want of truth in the character ; all are silent
on the grief of never being believed, never depended on,
never placed in an honorable station of trust. It is a situ-
ation too, which it is always necessary to conceal, to mask
under vain words, which only serve to prove it.
When we see whole nations sink under the weight of
ills, connected with the depreciation of language; when
we see that in their misfortunes they scarcely excite pity ;
that beings distinguished by the most brilliant gifts, and
best calculated to move the imagination, in the impossi-
bility of producing an impression, falling into discourage-
ment, or obliged to have recourse to ridiculous exaggera-
tion a sympton as well as a disastrous effect of the evils
which afflict their nation ; when, on the contrary, we see
PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. '<!3'>
that honest and measured words command respect in' oth-
er nations", it should be our greatest care to elevate these
representative signs of thought, both in public and private
education.*
What, in relation to this very important thing, will be
the effect of the changes which are continually taking
place in the manners of the age ? Under the ancient or-
der of society, the obligation to expose life, rather than suf-
fer one's good faith to be called in question, confined, it is
true, falsehood within certain limits. But if the barbarous
practice of duelling raised the value of words on the one
hand, it diminished it on the other, in elevating personal
courage above every thing, and substituting bravery for
conscience.
The most important influence in every age is exerted
by moral and religious sentiment ; but there are indica-
tions that the new state of things will give a greater and
more constant desire for truth. The noble and universal
interests which are confided to the choice spirits of a na-
tion, call for all that is honest and sincere : pretexts and
subterfuges, condemned to the disgrace of being unveiled,
will dare no longer to display themselves. Even in a less
elevated sphere, the spirit of association and of enterprise,
by multiplying transactions, will augment the desire to be
promptly understood. Men of finesse waste too much
time, and when* we would not distrust their probity we
would still avoid business with them, because we never
know what they will do. Likewise in education; skillful
* Strangers, it is true, often judge very unjustly of the inhabitants
of a country, where these habits of exaggeration reign. They
ought to think that words stripped of their value, are estimated and
given for what they are worth, and that no one is deceived by them.
But what excuse can we make for such a language, except to say >
that it has no meaning \ [Eo.]
236 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH.
teachers* have found that active and serious duties among
children, charged with important functions, render them
tenacious of sincerity, and cause them to possess a sove-
reign contempt not only for lying, but for every shade of
deceit.
If parents shut their eyes upon the consequences of
want of truth to their children, yet how can they mistake
their own interests as teachers ? Are they ignorant that
they labor in the dark, so long as the child is insincere ?
The most cruel uncertainty is shed upon all their care
the time and money that they believed well invested, is
perhaps employed in a fatal manner, and perhaps is re-
motely preparing some of those disastrous discoveries
which give true anguish to the parental heart.
A sense of truth is to be cultivated, and we cannot too
early accelerate its development. To this effect we should
endeavor to make the young child comprehend that his
words ought to agree with facts, rather than with his de-
sires, or those of others a thing that of himself he will
not always understand. In relating all the circumstances
of -events in which he has either been an actor, or a wit-
ness, he knows when the recital is a faithful one. He
soon knows it so well, that if you commit the least error,
he will correct you with a sort of pedantry. It is neces-
sary to thank him in such a case, and make him see the
full value which we attach to accuracy.
But we should not only be particular about language, ;
stratagems should also be discovered. We ought to com-
prehend, and overthrow them, and show that we are never
duped by them. It is not necessary to have an explana-
tion : what cannot be proved, should not be reprimanded.
If you receive artful and designing caresses with the most
* Those of the school at Hazlewood.
PROGRESS OF E THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. '
perfect coldness, and those which proceed from the heart
with reciprocated tenderness, the child informed by his
conscience, will not mistake your motives. Pretences
will be treated in like manner, and without giving them
the name they merit, you will always have a reason for
refusing them. Exaggerations, boastings, doubtful stories
will only obtain from you a grave silence. Nothing
will give you so high a place in the mind of the child,
nothing will better secure his respect for your knowledge,
than the proof that he will thus have of your penetration.
Another object sweeter and no less important, is to se-
cure the confidence of the child. Endeavor to obtain from
him a confession of his little faults, and always reward his
candor by the fullest pardon. Remember that before the
age of reason, the evil of indulgence cannot equal that of
exposing veracity to the least danger. We ought partic-
ularly to avoid placing children in the way of temptation.
We should never interrogate them with regard to their
past honesty never on facts which they would deny, or
sentiments which they would conceal never likewise on
the conduct of other children, or that of domestics. Why
expose them to betray others ? Why place their frail vir-
tue between denunciation, and a lie ?
All experiment is dangerous to sincerity, a quality
which gathers strength in quietude. We are so often
obliged to speak the truth on ordinary occasions; the
proportion of falsehood is necessarily so feeble, even in
deceitful men, that the habit of veracity is likely to become
formed, if interruptions to it are avoided.* Such a habit
* Has not the author reversed the true order of things 1 Does
not nature prompt children to speak truth, and example give them
the habit of deception 7 ? A young child seeing a cat, is not prompt-
ed by nature to say. ' There is a dog ;' if there is such a thing as
instinct in children, it seems to be to act as they feel, and to speak as
238 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD TEAR. TRUTH
ought not to be too much tried, certainly ; but should we
dare neglect what would favor the development of con-
science 1 It ought to be remembered that I speak here of
infancy. At a later period it may be useful, by pertinent
interrogations, to probe secret motives ; to strengthen the
morality of the child by subjecting it to some proofs : but
such attempts appear to me calculated only to weaken
what has not yet taken root.
If we have succeeded in making truth respected but a
short time, we have come in possession of a powerful
means we are able to manifest confidence. Our esteem,
which is in proportion to the correctness of the child's as-
sertions, renders him attentive to his words. And when
we no longer doubt what he affirms, when his simplest
testimony instantly produces in us full conviction ; the
sentiment of joy and of dignity 'which fills his soul, shows
him the value of good faith.
But the most essential thing, is to be perfectly correct
ourselves. All other interests ought to be sacrificed to
that of truth. To deceive a child is not only to set him
a pernicious example, but it is to destroy our influence
over him for the future ; it is to renounce the entire educa-
tion, of which we are no longer able to be the instrument.
Why do we not feel that our power with' the minds of
children is only based upon the profound and constant
persuasion that we are incapable of abusing them ? And
let us not think that their credulity will be of long dura-
they think. When the mother gives her child a bitter medicine,
and tells him it is good ; when she says she is not going away, and
slily escapes, the child learns from example, to deceive ; and self-in-
terest soon prompts him to put this knowledge in practice. We
are sorry to differ in opinion from so enlightened an author as
Madame de Saussure, but are not willing to attribute to nature
what we think is a fault in education. [Eo ]
PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 239
tion ; perhaps it would be if they had not cause to doubt
us. But we do not even take the trouble to conceal our
bad faith, and the acts of falsehood which we oftenest in-
dulge, in our intercourse with them, together with the
vain promises which we make, always conclude by being
recognized for what they are, and jnake an impression
upon their minds.
Every thing may be repaired with children, excepting
falsehood : be impatient, angry, for a moment unjust ; this
will be very wrong, but perhaps they will forget it. They
are faults to which the will is not accessory, and inefface-
able remembrance only attaches itself to intentional sins.
You have, I know, a secret motive which excuses you ;
but this motive unintelligible to the child, does not
justify you in his eyes. It is important to him to know
if he can believe you, the whole future, of which he has
any idea, is included in this question. If he has always
found you literally true, your moral power is yet entire,
while on the contrary if he has once proved you false,
you are no longer any thing but a material and un-
certain instrument, the employment of which not being
foreknown, will never be taken into consideration.
The idea of duty is either formed in the child, or it is
not. If it is not, you are able to influence him only by
hope or fear. Children who have never been deceived,
look upon promises, as facts, and a thread is sufficieet to
conduct them. If they have been deceived, chains would
not do it.
Hence we see the reason why education* is difficult
among the ignorant. They love their children as much
as we do ours, but they believe it is admissible to deceive
them, for their good. Unaccustomed to govern them by
words, they have recourse to chastisement ; and notwith-
standing the most frightful increase of severity, this soon
loses its effect. An obstinacy, which nothing can over-
come, produces irritability in the parents, who know not
240 PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH.
how to control their own passions, and a course of treat-
ment follows too dreadful for description. The little un-
fortunate being, seeing himself delivered to a blind and
unpitying chance, refuses to care for the future. His
pleasures are taken by stealth, and wrapping himself in a
state of stupid indifference, as. to the consequences of his
actions, he remains a stranger to morality, as well as to
simple human prudence.
But if the child had already been impressed with the
sentiment of duty, what revolution, what disorder takes
place in his existence ! His father has deceived him
his own father ! sad and overwhelming conviction ! Even
supposing that he dare not condemn the act, supposing
that w r e succeed in persuading him that the dissimulation
was lawful, or necessary, yet what confusion does it pro-
duce in his mind ! All which is clear to him is, that he
can no longer believe any thing. Motives above his
reach, justify all conduct of which, he is the object; he is
a poor miserable being to whom no one owes that. truth
and justice which ought to exist among all men. Great
mental dejection is the consequence of such a persuasion,
and we may be certain that morality in his dealings with
others, will commence only when he shall clearly see it
in the conduct of others towards himself.
We cannot make the idea of duty in the child too sim-
ple: we cannot too early elevate the dignity of his young
spirit, by showing him that he is depended upon, and
that \ve would not unnecessarily wound his self-respect.
There is danger undoubtedly of exciting self-love too
strongly in education ; there is the same disadvantage, as
I think, in exalting too much the idea of moral power ;
but the esteem, shall I say the respect ? which men, not-
withstanding their imperfections may merit ; this esteem
the natural inheritance of whoever has not forfeited it,
should be accorded in full to the child. He is ignorant
PROGRESS OF THE THIRD YEAR. TRUTH. 241
and feeble ; the laws, as well as necessity deliver him into
our power ; but he is not the less our equal, our brother,
perhaps he is our superior ; nearer than we to the great
Source of being, more recently from the hands of the Cre-
ator, his nature is more angelic. Innocent in his feelings,
a stranger to suspicion as well as fear joy, security, and
noble confidence will beam in his eyes, until sad experi-
ence shall have changed the purity of his nature.
The most scrupulous regard to truth in teachers, fails
not to produce it in pupils also, and docility in the latter
follows of course. A sincere education can alone be, in
the main, a mild one ; for, since there are points that we
wish to obtain decidedly, it is necessary to have recourse
to violence, if words fail of effect. This, an enlightened
mother will soon feel, and will, if possible, impart to her
auxiliaries. She ought especially to direct her nurses in
this particular; but here is a great difficulty, perfect sin-
cerity being the rarest quality among the poor, in conse-
quence of a defective education joined to a state of depen-
dence. As the means of removing this difficulty should
be taken into consideration, I will conclude by expressing
the wish, that in this age, so fruitful in institutions, we
should employ ourselves in founding schools for nurses,
capable of governing children under six years old. Some
establishments, where we might depend upon finding dis-
creet, amiable, and upright persons, would be a benefit of
which mothers only could appreciate the value.
21
( 242 )
CHAPTER V.
OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS.
" The faculty in man most vivid, most simple, and most insepa-
rable from himself, is imagination." ANONYMOUS GERMAN WRITER.
IN early spring the flower of the young elm has already
passed away ; it has given to the wind its light seed, but
the leaves are yet scarcely unfolded. Such is the imagi-
nation of childhood. Precocious in its development, and
powerful in its effects, although very simple in its foims :
it embellishes, animates, and sometimes disturbs the early
period of life : we see it surpass all the other faculties in
grandeur, and then become gradually reduced to the ordi-
nary proportions, in which it is presented by the men of
our climate.
Two kinds of intellectual progress may be distinguish-
ed among children ; mental development, and the acqui-
sition of knowledge. These reciprocally aid each other.
The ever-growing faculties accumulate a fund of facts,
which, in their turn, furnish matter for the exercise of
the faculties ; the spirit of examination is strengthened by
multiplying research ; memory shows itself to be faithful
in proportion as it connects ideas ; and the judgment be-
comes more sound when it compares a multitude of ob-
OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 243
jects : but it is not thus with imagination, which increases
and declines with astonishing rapidity.
If we understand by imagination the mental represen-
tation of outward objects, this faculty undoubtedly reigns
paramount in the earliest period of life, and together with
sympathy forms the entire moral existence of the new-
born child. But at that time it is so much obscured by
the clouds of infancy, that it is with difficulty manifested
externally, and has not yet attained that brilliancy and
vigor which a greater manifestation of strength afterwards
gives it. It is at the age of three or four years, perhaps,
that the features of the infantine imagination are the most
striking. Much has been already acquired, and the ef-
fects of simple nature it is not easy to discover ; but this
is the only age in which we observe certain phenomena
that can belong only to the imagination.
The child is not yet enlightened by experience : his
memory has only collected scattered facts, of which he
knows not the general laws : and he has yet no clear idea
of the established order of the universe.
Give to a child some sugar-plums in a box, and he will
be constantly opening the box, to see if the sugar-plums
are still there. Conceal yourself behind a curtain, and
ihe transports of his joy at seeing you again, will prove
that it vras sad, but not very surprising to him, that you
had disappeared. The vivacity of his pleasure on many
occasions, is the consequence of being suddenly delivered
from certain fears, which were not a source of doubt to
us. A sort of obscure personification of inanimate objects,
may often add to the strength of his impressions. Not
only do dolls become to him living beings, although in
reality he knows what they are, but his other play-things,
his furniture, the utensils of which he makes use, seem to
him not entirely deprived of life; and in the tears which
be sheds at their loss there is something much more
244 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS.
tender, than the regret caused by their utility. A genuine
pity is combined with them. ' This poor cup,' says he,
his heart swelling at the wreck of what he has broken
' I loved it so much.'
The child furthermore believes there is life in every
thing that moves. Wind, thunder, flame, wills to over-
throw, to roar, and to consume. After three years old,
his mind often desires to recur from the idea to the cause.
If he has witnessed the construction of something, he asks
who formed the mountains, who dug the lake ; but from
the moment he perceives motion, he seeks for the cause
no longer ; the river flows, the smoke ascends, without
his asking for the reason ; a balloon, a flying-kite does
not astonish him. Motion is explained to him by life : as
he judges of every thing by sympathy, what he can least
conceive of, is the absence of sensation.
His total ignorance of the laws of nature, the facility
with which he attributes reality to the most singular con-
ceptions, are the causes of the prodigious interest which
he takes in his amusements. The idea of a multitude of
possible chances keeps him in continual excitement ;
hence arises his inconstancy. When his attempts have
been deceived, and the various combinations lead to noth-
ing new, he becomes weary, his imagination languishes,.
and the beings that it had animated return to lifeless mat-
ter.
These ideas are not so foreign to us as may be imag-
ined; there is in us a confused reverberation of the same
kind of impressions, which are yet very perceptible in
youth. The taste for material things also, and the power
of being amused by them, are always diminishing with
age ; at least, this is the fact when they flatter neither av-
arice or vanity, those inclinations of the mature man,,
which succeed to curiosity, and the imagination of in-
fancy.
OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 245
The pleasure procured to children by a narration of the
simplest history, is because of the liveliness .of the pic-
tures in their mind. The images which we conjure up
within them, are perhaps more brilliant and highly
wrought than real objects would be; a recital brings be-
fore them the magic lantern. There is then no need of
putting your invention to the rack in order to divert
them. Take a child for the principal personage ; join to
it a cat, a horse, any combination, in short, that makes an
image; relate your story with animation, and your audi-
tor will eagerly listen; the interest you excite will amount
to a passion. Every time he meets you, he will make
you repeat your narrative. But beware of changing any
thing. He wishes to see the same scene again, and the
least circumstance omitted or added, dissipates the illusion
which pleased him.*
We are often astonished to see that very coarse imita-
tions fully satisfy children: we sneer at their want of
taste in works of art, while we should rather admire that
power of imagination, which renders the illusion possible.
Mould as you will a figure of wax, or cut one out of pa-
per, and provided it has some appearance of arms and
legs, and a ball put on for a head, to surmount the whole,
your work will be a man in the eyes of the child. It will
remain such for whole weeks: the loss of one or two
members will make no difference, and in the imagination
* We easily comprehend that omissions may be disagreeable, but
why also are additions often so ? Some further details ought not
to make him doubt the reality of the facts which we relate. It is
because these facts have already passed in review before bis mind,
but accompanied by combinations different from those we have de-
scribed to him the second time. It was represented with other lo-
calities, other persons, other clothes. We have deranged his former
imagery, and he regrets it. [En.]
21*
246 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS.
of the child it will play any part that we would wish to
make it. It is not the bad copy, which the child sees, it is
the model he has in his head. The figure of wax is but
a symbol, which cannot arrest his mind. Let such a
symbol be however badly chosen, insignificant, unimpor-
tant, and the young soul pierces the veil, arrives at the
truth, and contemplates it under its true colors.
This faculty, which permits them to suppose one object
in the place of another, is manifested in children, at a very
early age. I have seen a child of eleven months old, re-
cognize a very small dog on an engraving. All children
are amused with prints after the first year, although nei-
ther the form, or size, or the true color of objects are rep-
resented upon this flat surface, and by this multitude of
black lines. A little girl of eighteen months old, care-
fully tends her doll : she puts it to bed, feeds it, keeps it
from cold, takes it up, reproaches it, and testifies in a
manner sometimes rather harsh, the interest that she takes
in its morality, at the same time being conscious that it is
but play. These are the true dramatic pleasures, those
which spring from voluntary illusion, from an illusion
which takes forcible possession of the mind, without how-
ever leading it into error.
Animals are absolute strangers to this class of ideas.
An imitation may deceive them, but when once their mis-
take is recognized, they take no interest in it. Zeuxis, it
is said, had painted some grapes so naturally, that the
birds came to banquet on them; but the moment they
touched the canvass, they flew far away from it.
The more the imagination of the child is brought into
play, the more he has of pleasure. He loves to fancy
other things than those he sees, and enjoys the illusion.
He is most amused by playthings of his own invention.
Faithful copies of real things, therefore, suffer the fate of
the things themselves, which soon weary him. He ad-
Of TflE IMAGINATION' AT THREE YEARS. 247
mires them, he is enchanted by them, but the too precise
form of the object restrains his imagination ; it represents
but one model, and how can he content himself with one
amusement ? A little soldier well equipped, is but a sol-
dier ; he is never the father of the child, or any other per-
sonage. It would appear that the young mind is inspired
with the sense of originality : he puts every thing in con-
tribution to realize his hopes, and sees in every thing
about him, instruments of his pleasure. An ottoman in-
verted, is a boat or carriage ; placed upright, it is a horse,
or a table : a piece of pasteboard is a house, a cabinet, a
chariot in short, every thing that he wants. It is ne-
cessary to enter into his views, and ever before the age of
useful plays, to give the child means to work with, rather
than works already completed. Thus some thick boards
in the form of books, and susceptible of being placed upon
each other in different ways are excellent materials for
building, which will prevent him from seeking others ;
and if the boards are perforated, if he can connect them
together in different ways by means of strings, he gives
himself up to his genius. When yet very young, we
may render him perfectly happy by giving him some sand
to play with ; things which by turns are to him water,
land, a dinner to prepare, &c.. Whatever can lend its aid
to the fancy of the moment, is a source of inexhaustible
pleasure to him.
The entire existence of these little children is dramatic ;
their life is a pleasing dream, prolonged and supported
by design. Incessantly inventing, adorning and acting
scenes, their days pass away in fiction, and but for their
puerility they would be poets. In truth, all that poets
have sung, all that mythology has consecrated, all that
superstition has fancied of the life which is spread through-
out nature's works is found in lively traits, sometimes
burlesqued indeed, in early childhood. Some examples
248 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS.
will suffice to prove the power of imagination at this pe-
riod.
I know a child of two years and a half old, who passes
a part of his time in playing the part of coachman. His
horses are two chairs, for which he makes a harness of
ribbons. Seated behind on a third, with the reins in one
hand, and a little whip in the other, he drives his peace-
able coursers. A light balancing of his body shows that
he believes himself in motion. By degrees this move-
ment slackens, he falls into a repose approaching sleep,
the illusion still continuing. But if some one places him-
self before the chairs, the immobility of the object, by un-
deceiving him, destroys his pleasure. Then he is trou-
bled, he is grieved. Somebody prevents his horses from
going forward.
The same child is occupied regularly in feeding, with
imaginary grain, domestic fowls, which are also imagina-
ry. He requires the door of the chamber where he keeps
them, to be left open, and if it is shut by accident, he im-
mediately falls to weeping, We keep his poor ducks and
chickens from coming out*
A father listening at the window, hears his children
drawing the bow in the garden. One is a judge of the
shot, the others call for his decision. One disputes, one
cries, one applauds the victor, one insults the vanquished.
The father feels some inquietude. Where did they get
the bow and arrow? Can they shoot it, at their age ?
Will they not do some mischief? Being unable to forbear
longer, he descends into the garden, and observes them.
* A little girl of three years returning from church, said to her
father, ' Our hens keep meeting too ; the cock rings the bell, the
black hen preaches, and the chickens sing.' The father was pleas-
ed with the fancy which could thus make use of the most remote
analogies, to furnish its imagery. [Eo.]
OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 249
He sees them glowing, animated, and full of that genuine
ardor which accompanies great pleasure. The whole
pantomime was perfect; hut they had neither bow, ar-
row, or mark : a wall formed all the material of the exer-
cise.
A deep and sincere feeling is often joined to the illu-
sions of childhood, and the affection of little girls for their
dolls has occasionally something touching in it. At the
age of four years, when illusion ordinarily begins to dis-
sipate, a child lets fall her cherished doll, and unfortunate-
ly breaks its nose. Frightful cries, and terrible despair
ensue : which are redoubled by the imprudence of the
father, who, not regarding the accident with sufficient seri-
ousness, half laughing, half seeking to repair the deformed
visage, crushes the remainder of the broken nose, into an
enormous cavity. Grief, mingled with anger, then renders
the child so violent, that there is reasons to fear convul-
sions. We quiet her as we can ; we take away the doll,
promising to cure it, and at length succeed in getting the
little girl to sleep, overcome with weariness. During her
slumber we run to the men of handicraft. A fine new
face is very skilfully substituted for the old one, and we
expect when she awakes the child will be quite satisfied.
Not at all ; her grief, as lively as ever, has assumed a
character of tenderness and bereavement. It is no longer
a little fury, it is a true mother to whom we have dared to
present another child in the place of her own. Sobs in-
terrupt her words as she cries ' Ah, it is no longer, no
longer my doll - I knew it before, and I now know it no
longer do you believe I can ever love this other ? Take
it away ; I do not wish to see it.'
Those who have the care of sick children in the hospi~
tal, often find them more gentle and patient than adults.
A little girl, who was obliged to have her leg amputated,
had submitted to the whole operation without uttering a.
250 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS.
complaint, clasping- her doll, in the mean time, closely in
her arms. ' I am going soon to cut off your doll's leg,'
said the surgeon, laughingly, when he had finished the
operation : the poor child, who had suffered so much
Avithout complaint, at this cruel proposal melted into tears
Having reached a certain point, the illusion in the
child ceases to be voluntary ; he no longer yields to it.
and from that moment a sensation of fear takes possession
of him. Beginning to doubt whether it be illusion, he
believes himself on the borders of an unknown world, full
of frightful realities. Make a large doll dance before a
child of two years old, and his pleasure will be propor-
tioned to the gentleness of its motions ; if you jump it
high, and its arms move with violence, the child will per-
haps laugh heartily, but he tvill press closely to its mother,
and his flushed or pallid face will betray mental agitation.
Those who possess a talent for grimace, amuse themselves
with the great effect which it produces on children ; but
it is easy to see that the pleasure of the latter is only pure,
when they recognize at intervals the natural physiognomy
of the actor : if he continue his grimaces without interrup-
tion, and especially if he allows one to remain fixed upon
his countenance, the child is afraid. The idea of a meta-
morphosis, of a frightful combination of two beings into
one, takes possession of him ; he hardly knows what it is
he fears but he trembles.
The effect of entire ignorance is one of the things we
are most liable to forget. What we have already seen
appears natural to us, and we do not feel that to the child,
Avho has seen nothing, every thing is equally natural.
The region of the possible is unlimited to him. Dark-
ness may conceal monsters and precipices, artificial fig-
ures may become animate, fall upon him and devour him,
phantoms may come out of the earth, and the chimney is
a cavern where fantastic beings make their abode. As
soon as an idea is presented to children their imagination
OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 251
gives it a living, real form, and a vague sensation of fear
calls up spectres to their mind.
Such liveliness in the faculty of imagination, joined to
great excitability and to weakness of nerves, in these poor
little creatures, renders it truly criminal to abuse their
credulity. We may make them foolish, imbecile, subject
to terrors, that will cause unhappiness through their
whole lives. But even where this should not be the case,
the influence of fear upon the moral character is im-
mense. It renders it weak, hypocritical, sometimes per-
fidious ; and moreover it exposes the child to run into de-
struction, in the least real danger. Why must we needs
repeat it again? Rousseau, Miss Hamilton, M. Friedlan-
der, each in their way, have exhausted the powers of elo-
quence, of reason, and even of science. Shall we never
be able to accomplish any thing upon this inexhaustible
subject of education, which will be treated of to the end of
the world, but be obliged to repeat the same things for-
ever? *
Happily, this imagination which is so lively, is not cre-
ative. Children left to themselves may be afraid of real
objects, such as negroes, chimney-sweepers, masks, and
may afterwards recur to the remembrance of them with
terror ; but they forge few chimeras. It is very seldom
that an idea pre-occupies their minds without it has been
suggested. We may then readily go back to the source
of their fears ; but the evil once introduced, is not so easy
to be remedied.
* It pains me to think that it will be so; and that the pitiable and
ridiculous invention of " M. Croquemitaine" has brought back the
reign of ogres and bloody giants. Many believe that a ludicrous
name prevents the danger; but the example cited by a French jour-
nal, (the Constitutional.) of an unfortunate little being, who died
of fright by the employment of this bugbear, proves such a belief to
be a false one.
252 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS.
To succeed in it, it is first necessary to be well ac-
quainted with human nature. The evil generally con-
sists in the apparition of a phantom, whose aspect terrifies
these poor children ; and consequently the essential point
is not to call up this phantom in their memories. Upon
this subject reasonings are always thrown away. While
you are discoursing upon the small probability of danger,
upon the miseries of fear, and the glory attached to cour-
age, you may be certain that your child has the vision be-
fore his eyes, and that the more you speak of it, the more
you will give it consistence. Experience has proved that
it is useless at any age, directly to combat the chimeras of
imagination. To leave the predominant thought to be
forgotten, to expel the sensation by a stronger one, to di-
vert, interest and cultivate the moral and physical nature,
is in general the best regimen against fear. A more di-
rect remedy for an especial cure of it, is to substitute the
presence of the formidable object for the idea in the child's
mind. We do not imagine what we see, and the reality,
even though it be disagreeable and repulsive, produces a
tranquillizing effect upon the senses. This expedient,
when it is possible to practise it, is very efficacious, but
should be exercised with judgment.
Indeed, all new terror, all agitation communicated to
the nerves, will indefinitely retard the cure, and a little
must be risked for this effect. Rousseau recommends
plays of night ; but I will venture to say that those in
which the child forgets fear, is far better than those in
which he braves it. We must not trust to his loud and
vociferous laughter; for it often appertains to feigned
gaiety, to the desire of turning away his attention from
the thought which haunts him; and it is not pleasure
that will leave the deepest impression upon his memory.
In this way imitations of the cries of ferocious beasts, and
sudden surprises in the dark, are attended with some
OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS. 253
danger. The child, fond of excitement, may earnestly
desire the repetition of scenes or stories which are a
little frightful : this taste should be satisfied, but with
great discretion. It is difficult to discover whether we
keep up the habit of fear, or form that of courage.
A peculiarity of the infantine imagination is, that it
only concerns itself about the present time : in this respect
it is very different from ours, which is always glancing,
either before or behind ; reviving the past, or anticipating
the future. The child does not interest himself in his
sensations of the preceding day. An accident which has
occurred through his fault, is like any other with which
he has had no concern. Every morning he wakes with
a feeling of innocence, and believes himself justified for
all his faults, as soon as he has said, ' It was yesterday.'
Nevertheless, when the future is at the same time both
near and agreeable, the child thinks of it very willingly.
We may observe him accurately counting the days which
separate him from some festival, and see also that posi-
tive promises have great influence over him. It is not so
with threats. He does not believe in the approach of any
thing unwelcome, or else he banishes the idea by saying,
'.It will be a long time first.' In his natural and healthy
state, then, he experiences hope, but is a stranger to fear ;
so careful has Heaven been to secure his happiness.
When we think of the lively pleasures which are so
easily procured to this age, the happy period belonging
only to infancy, and in which our love can so easily dis-
pose every thing in its favor, of the inexhaustible gaiety,
of the avenues which are open on every side to joy, and
shut to care and sorrow, who can forbear the idea that
the contentment of these cherished beings is a peculiar
dispensation of Providence ? And if, as a celebrated man
has said, happiness is, at every age, the most favorable at-
mosphere for the germs of virtue, does it not seem that
22
254 OF THE IMAGINATION AT THREE YEARS.
the Supreme Governor of all has wished to secure the
morality of the man by the protracted felicity of the child?
This leads us to examine the peculiar character which
the dispositions we have been speaking of give to the first
dawnings of conscience.
( 255 )
CHAPTER VI.
Or THE CONSCIENCE BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD.
' Every child is another Adam: when he has once tasted the fruit
of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, he is driven from the
paradise of innocence." ANONYMOUS GERMAN WRITER,
UNQUESTIONABLY, nothing appears more irregular
and more versatile, than the moral sentiment at the age of
three years. This sentiment, nevertheless, exists, and be-
comes manifest at this period, when the passions cease to
have exclusive influence. The child has a vivid idea of
good and evil, although he does not express it in general
terms. He recognizes a law common to all, a tacit
agreement which ought to be respected ; and all attacks
upon truth, upon the rights of property, the enjoyments of
others, offences and injuries, even though he does not suf-
fer by them personally, excite his attention. The point
where he becomes interested without being impassioned,
it is difficult to ascertain, and between excitement and
partiality there is little room for justice.
Indeed the principles which predominate in his soul,
rarely permit the child to judge with coolness. Always
led away, always animated by some emotion, interested
for himself or for those he loves, at times very selfish,
he seems suddenly to put his own person in the place
256 OF THE CONSCIENCE,
of another ; but he is not more just when he is devoted.
It is well if at this time bad feelings do not get the as-
cendancy in his heart. We see in him, as in strong
relief, the fantastic and unequal nature of our two most
brilliant and most amiable faculties, imagination and sym-
pathy.
Likewise, an emotion truly engaging, that of pity, is in
him capricious. He sometimes feels it even to tears, to
distress, to the entire sacrifice of what gives him most
pleasure ; at other times he remains inacessible to this
feeling. Every thing disgusting to the child hardens
his heart. When a wounded animal is pretty, we see
him tenderly participate his sufferings ; when he is ugly,
he turns away with horror. His compassion vanishes
whenever certain defects, such as deformity or absurdity,
make him disdain to associate with the sufferer. Such,
even at a later period of life, is the insufficiency of sym-
pathy, that vacillating basis on which it has been vainly
pretended we might found morality.
From the nature of this feeling we may understand,
that all actions from Avhich suffering does not immedi-
ately result to any individual, appear innocent to the
child. He is also but little scrupulous about petty thefts,
when no visible traces remain of them. There is one
duty, however, that lie admits without restriction, every
time he conceives the idea of it, and that is obedience to
the being upon whom he is dependent,
I have already said that there was one person to whom
a child, endowed with sensibility, believes himself ordi-
narily to belong. To her he feels responsible for his
conduct : his relations with others aYe much less inti-
mate. He extricates himself from trouble as he can from
those of less authority, but the reproaches of his true
benefactor are felt to his inmost soul. She it is, who is
his conscience. Her anticipated judgment absolves or
BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 257
condemns him. She it is, whom he sees in imagination
at the decisive moment of trial ; she is often so vividly
represented, that he can no longer disobey her, and by
the tolerably natural effect of a strong illusion, he believes
this even to be seen. Therefore the child is not astonish-
ed, when, with the air of one who knows, this person
questions him about his conduct when he was far from
her sight : the idea of an invisible witness has nothing re-
pugnant in it at this age.
But if, through infirmity, or forgetfulness, the child
yields to the temptation, when he returns to his benefactor
remorse enters his heart. He would be able to see with-
out emotion the proprietor of the fruits or flowers that he
has taken ; but his forehead reddens with shame, when
he comes in contact with the representative of his con-
science. To her he pours out his confessions, his ten-
der and touching explanations : it is when with her that
he experiences that necessity of expiation, so natural to
a guilty heart. Afterwards, when he has committed
some great fault, we sometimes see him punishing him-
self.
If Avomen would but attentively examine their hearts,
how often would they also find in themselves a relative
morality, dependent upon their affections. How often is
their most delicate and sensitive conscience, but the idea
of a being tenderly beloved, and a little feared; who sees
them, follows them, who suffers or enjoys in every thing
that occurs to them. This conscience is a very good
thing: but another is, notwithstanding, very necessary.
If sympathy is not a solid foundation for morality, it is
undoubtedly one of its sources during infancy. The love
and respect which parents inspire, gradually become con-
nected with the obligations they impose: their judgment,
always anticipated, acquires authority of itself; and the
more independent idea of duty takes possession of the
22*
258 OF THE CONSCIENCE,
child's heart. And when he sees that the same law con-
trols his parents, when he finds it universally observed
around him, when above all he feels it to be in accordance
with the intimations confusedly given him by conscience,
then he daily advances more and more within the domain
of moral feeling.
One obstacle to his progress in this way, is a want of
the notion of time. The nullity of the past excludes re-
gret, that of the future excludes fear; and whilst the idea
of the consequences of each action, would be a good aux-
iliary for conscience, the child who does not distinctly
see how facts influence each other, places no importance
upon his determinations. His extreme volatility delivers
his impressions to the wind j his recollections, upon
which he never reflects, soon pass away ; and if events re-
mained in his memory, his past motives would always be
forgotten. Too changeable to believe himself the same,
the child of to-day, answers not to him of yesterday. He
has not that consciousness of the succession of thought
which gives the idea of identity and that of time, two
things in a great degree dependent upon each other.
One self, the unmoved spectator of the variations of anoth-
er self, incessantly regulating and noting its changes, this
is what constitutes our identity, and by it our morality.
But in the child nothing is yet decided.
It follows from this that the sooner we form a connexion
between the past and the present in his mind, the sooner we
shall introduce him into a moral as well as a rational state
of being. I say between the past and the present, because
it is necessary to commence with these. The influence
of preceding events upon those which have followed is
clear, evident, and easy to prove ; whilst the future, un-
certain as it always is, appears still more so to the child.
He sets at defiance our threatening predictions ; but when
we shall have shown him clearly that each day he must
BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 259
suffer the consequences of the preceding, he will gradu-
ally comprehend the connecting chain.
Thus the young child delivered to the empire of early
inclinations, has dawnings of morality, although not yet
a moral being. The absence of reflection is manifest in
all he does. Forming no general rule, and not applying
the rule to himself when, he is made to understand it, he
does not exert his will in aid of his moral nature. As
little worthy of contempt for his faults, as of esteem for
his good actions, the little child may appear to us more or
less interesting, having, like animals a nature which at-
taches or repulses us ; but we cannot, Avithout doing vio-
lence to reason, believe that the responsibility for his con-
duct rests with him, as much as with us, or consider him
as culpable for his faults.
Such is the state of the soul in infancy. But when
after having passed through various gradations, the in-
fant shall arrive at manhood, what will be his condition
in a moral point of view? The ideas that we form of hu-
man nature have so much influence upon education, that
it is essential to have some fixed opinions on this subject,
which is one of debate even at the present day.
The most sacred authority of all, the Holy Scriptures, has
pronounced the heart of man to be corrupt. This sentence
has appeared hard, even revolting : and as it seemed that
a truth relating to our nature must manifest itself in a
thousand ways in human life, we believe that the impar-
tial scrutiny of acknowledged facts, and the consequences
which flow from them, have tended to confirm this severe
declaration. We ask, then, if experience has shown that
man was always guilty ? and in case he was, does it fol-
low that his heart must be corrupt ?
"Who can doubt that man is sinful ? Who can have his
sense of right so blunted as not to condemn himself?
What do we find in our minds 1 A profound conviction
260 OF THE CONSCIENCE,
of the freedom of our determinations, and a knowledge,
sufficiently clear, of the course which duty points out to
us. What do we see in our conduct ? Constant devia-
tions from the good path which we are able to pursue.
Responsible, because we are free ; incapable of rendering
a satisfactory account of our actions, or even of our inten-
tions ; we find our sentence written in the law which we
acknowledge to be just. The best thing in us, the correct
idea which AVC have of virtue, condemns us ; and we can-
not justify, without degrading ourselves.
By challenging the tribunal of that loose morality which
judges of actions by the general standard of social life;
by seeing righteousness where it alone is, in God himself,
sin and its frightful extent meets our view on every side.
This belief of it, (and it is the only true one,) we find in
all religious creeds. Man, by transgressing the law, has
always believed he offended the Law-giver who imposed
it ; he has always sought to appease a justly offended de-
ity; he is always compared to an insolvent debtor; and
this idea, consecrated in many modes of worship, has re-
ceived in that of Christians the most august of sanctions.
But what is the source of that evil which we cannot
but acknowledge in our actions? Is it inherent in our
nature, or must we affirm, with some modern philosophers,
that all our inclinations, innocent in themselves, become
bad only by the use we make of them ; and when- misled
a moment, we find a pleasure in rectifying them which
surpasses the regret of having transgressed 1 Sin would
then become a simple accident, an effect of inattention, or
of weakness; and it would not be found rooted in the re-
cesses of our hearts.
This system has obtained numerous partisans in the
present age ; but is the supposition on which it is founded
just, and does not the practical observation of the human
heart give it the lie continually? Has he. who maintains
BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 261
that our natural inclinations are of themselves innocent,
and susceptible of being rightly directed, made a complete
enumeration of them 1 has he searched into the nature of
each ? What does he make of envy in this doctrine?
Does he forget that it is impossible to direct this vile dis-
position towards good ? And I speak not of the emotion,
perhaps excusable, which makes us feel more keenly the
privation of an advantage which we see another possess ;
I speak of the desire which this other indulges ; and the
happiness which he acquires by it is counterbalanced by
some trouble in its attainment. Is there not also a ming-
ling of malicious feeling in anger, and in all those pas-
sionate and perverse propensities which cause us pleasure
in the miseries of others ? That an element of virtuous
indignation, of justice, and whatever we imagine of good,
may enter into such dispositions, I admit ; but how can
we avoid seeing the pernicious principle which takes
pleasure, and even delight in making our neighbor's suf-
fer? a propensity very different from that which it be-
comes us to defend. Malignity, as its name indicates, too
much resembles an active principle of evil, not to vitiate
the best mixture, in whatever proportion it may be found
in it. And let us not say that perverse inclinations are
necessary, that they make a part of the general order. By
suppressing envy and hatred, the course of the world
would be much more peaceful. Anger perplexes and
blinds, more than it serves us. Even in the case of an
unforeseen attack, the best safeguard would be coolness
That increase of energy which we think is owing to ex-
citement, is furnished by the simple view of danger, and
in order to save a house from the flames, one will make
as vigorous efforts as to deliver himself from an enemy.
Is there not, if I may so speak, a luxury in sin, which,
like a foreign poison, communicates itself to our nature?
If the meaning of the terms attached to good and evil,
262 OF THE CONSCIENCE,
were submitted to a metaphysical analysis, it is unques-
tionably possible that we might be reduced to define evil
by negative expressions, and to say that it is disorder op-
posed to order, or, in short, the contrary to good. But
this discussion would be without object as applicable to
the domain of moral feeling, where these terms answer to
the ideas so universally received, that we cannot attempt
to change the acceptation of them. Besides, even if the
notion of evil were negative,* there would still be no re-
sult to draw from it in favor of the goodness of our origi-
nal constitution.
In a very general point of view, a certain degree of or-
der, and it may be of goodness, is necessary to the preser-
vation of all mankind. Wherever this degree is not
found, disorganization, decomposition, and corruption ex-
ist. An animated being, in the very fact that he lives,
presents some idea of order ; otherwise he would destroy
himself, or would not be suffered among his kind. The
most depraved men, if they are not fools, observe this law
in some point : they do not commit evil in all its forms,
and for this reason alone, because it is evil. But as in
that degree of cold where animal life ceases, there is still
warmth in the opinion of the chemist, so we may recog-
nize the elements of goodness in that degree of corruption,
where there is no longer moral life. The feeling always
exists in the heart, but too feebly, and too unequally dis-
tributed ; and wherever it is paralyzed, decomposition en-
* This opinion Madame Guizot has supported with infinite spirit
in her 'Lettressur 1'Education domestique,' of which I have already
spoken. Too rigid a moralist not to confess that man is guilty,
Madame Guizot denies the existence of evil propensities; and al-
though admitting that evil is every where, she believes the idea of
it is purely negative, and consequently does not allow that there is
any active principle of evil in the human soul. [En.]
REFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 263
sues, the moral being dies partially, and there is thus, the
seeds of death in every soul.
What would be in this case the evil inclinations whose
existence I have recognized ? They would be those per-
nicious dispositions, which tend to extinguish in us the
love of goodness, and to deprive us of that sensibility
which constitutes our life. When the heart no longer
possesses good emotions; when death has invaded the
region where conscience dwells, the most trifling motives,
the simple hope of a new emotion, is sufficient to excite
to the greatest crimes. Destroy pity, and Nero will set
fire to Rome, because the sight of the conflagration gives
inspiration to his singing. The idea of displaying ex
traordinary power, of finding a kind of intoxicating en-
joyment; in those acts which are interdicted to most
men, is capable of inciting to frightful attempts, the un-
happy wretch who has nothing to restrain him.
It imports little, then, that the idea of evil or disorder
be negative, if disorder is a cause of disorganization. The
absence of a necessary element is as great a calamity as
the presence of a dangerous one. The tree in which the
sap does not rise, the body where the blood has ceased to
flow, and the soul which is not touched with the love of
goodness, are equally seized with unsoundness of consti-
tution, and ruin is the consequence. Is corruption, moral
as well as physical, any thing else than the privation of
the principle of life, than that death which gradually takes
possession of us ?
When one has once entered the domain of moral feel-
ing, he desires above all things to find a language which
corresponds to the power of conscience, and this language
possesses a truth of which no argument can deprive it.
We feel, very decidedly, that many actions which are
conformed to rule, have no moral value. Providence has
so constituted the world that order conducts to happiness,
264 OF THE CONSCIENCE,
disorder to calamity. Consequently, man is often obser-
vant of order, when he remains a stranger to the idea of
duty. He is in the way of good, without willing to do
good, and has no title to esteem for it. Therefore, far
from finding in all that is lawfully done upon the earth, a
proof of the morality of human nature, we see in it only
a mark of simple good sense ; and the violation of the law
appears to us the effect of a strange perversity. Negative
terms suffice no longer to diminish our contempt for that
which is at once a vice, and a folly ; we attribute a body
to the evil from the reality of its principle ; and our imag-
ination furnishes strength to seize upon the enemy, with
which we are forever destined to contend.
However it may be, one fact alone remains incontesti-
ble. It is, that man commits sin, knowing it to be sin ;
that the law is written in our hearts, and that unlawfuj
dispositions incline us to transgress it. Some of these,
such as malignity and envy, by their very nature oppose
our obedience to the law : others oppose no obstacle to
it,~ excepting accidentally ; but whatever they may be, we
often yield to them, at the same time acknowledging that
they are not irresistible. This no reasoning can conceal,
and the most scrupulous man feels it the most sensibly.
Little faults in his eyes, are of the same nature as great
ones, and differ from them only in degree. When he has
once been vanquished in the conflict, he can no longer
tell where there will be an end to defeat ; he feels himself
to be on slippery ground, where he is insecure, and he
calls with loud cries for a hand to support him. He wants
assistance to combat the propensities which are ready to
mislead him, to give him the hope of seeing their strength
diminish ; and above all, he wants peace restored to his
troubled conscience.
But to return to the observation of children. Do we
find in studying them, that there is any evil propensity
BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 265
inevitably attached to their moral constitution ? If we
except a general disposition to egotism, which is hlended
from birth with selfishness, (a necessary feeling, but ex-
isting in the extreme,) we cannot discover any that is
universal in them. As they are not obliged to commit
faults, but nevertheless do commit them incessantly, so no
vicious inclination necessarily predominates in them, but
as the germ exists in the heart, there is always some one
manifest. It is easy to distinguish a threatening side in
every character, but our care has the power of balancing
or weakening dangerous propensities, before they result
in habits.
The most essential thing in education, after the culture
of good feelings, which I believe I have sufficiently rec-
ommended, is to prevent the progress of evil inclinations,
that they may not become established by repeated indul-
gence, and give birth to defects that will be difficult to
correct. It is consequently useless to form beforehand,
the idea of the inclinations we are called to repress, and
in the number there is one which is doubtless too slight
to be called an inclination, but frequent and fatal enough
to justify me in the mention of it.
I speak of that momentary depravation of the will,
which finds a pleasure, a peculiar relish in the idea of
violating rules. This movement, whether we would at-
tribute it to the action of bad principle, or would see in it
a false direction of the instinct of independence, has been
so often remarked in the human race, that it has been de-
signated by the proverbial expression of a ' taste for for-
bidden fruit.' We observe indeed in children something
besides weakness, besides the inability of submitting to
sacrifices exacted by duty, we see them rejoice to shake
off the yoke of obedience. A revolt against all rule,
against even that law of right whigh is Engraved in their
inmost heart, is not an unnatural movement with them.
23
266 OF THE CONSCIENCE,
There is a time when the child, and alas ! man also, is
seized with a savage intoxication, a time when desires
long subjected, resume their empire ; it is the revelling of
evil inclinations. At this time outrage, violence, the suf-
fering or humiliation of others, disorder, and in a word,
sin, seems to delight the soul, and become its element.
Reason, and especially religion, may prevent the return
of this rebellious state ; but it is one in which children will
sometimes fall even with the greatest care. A little girl,
of whom I have already spoken, a child who was sweet
and gentle, and appeared generally to take delight in obe-
dience, seemed sometimes to pride herself in openly refus-
ing it. At eighteen months she manifested the double
desire of observing rules, and defying them. Remaining
alone with her mother, who was confined to the bed by
illness, she one day, without the least apparent motive,
burst forth into open rebellion. Dresses, hats, screens, .
working materials, all that she could lay her hands upon,
were thrown on the floor in the middle of the chamber ;
she sung and danced around the pile with great joy; nor
could the remonstrances of her mother produce any effect
upon her. She seemed possessed with the desire of evil :
her blushes betrayed the reproaches of conscience, but her
pleasure consisted in stifling its voice.
It is the same also with that love of cruelty which little
boys sometimes show in their sports, after they have pass-
ed the age of early infancy. When they make an animal
suffer, they doubtless have a motive of curiosity ; they
wish to see how the poor creature will behave, while they
torment it ; but the point, the excellency of the diversion
is to have the emotion which they experience, to harden
themselves against pity, and have the boldness to be cruel.
I feel true regret in writing these things, and I wound
my own heart in accusing that of children. How can we
avoid loving them tenderly ? How can we help being
BEFORE FOUR YEARS OLD. 267
beguiled and captivated by their charms ? These poor
children sin continually in intention, but this intention is
not accomplished. When they wish to dissemble, they do
not deceive ; when they would hurt us, they have not the
power : we take their simplicity for candor, and their
weakness for innocence. And then they are so change-
able a token of sensibility, of sincerity, of confidence,
succeeds so quickly to a period of falsehood or selfishness,
that we forget all, but that which renders them more dear
to us. But shall we love them less, shall they have less
a claim to our profouridest pity, when we feel that they
possess the same sinful nature that we do ? when we
know that like us, they bear in their bosoms enemies
against which we ought unceasingly to arm them? I see
them, like all the rest of human kind, doing evil often
when they know it not, and doing it also when they are
conscious of it.
Is it said this doctrine is dangerous, that by professing
it we prepare too many excuses for weakness in tempta-
tion ? It is important to know if, by not professing it, we
prepare them with sufficient defence in trial. There is
nothing dangerous but error. It is useless to hope that
we may form morality with other elements than those of
human nature; it is emphatically so to suppose that if the
work could be executed, it would be susceptible of being
preserved. If we are not assured beforehand of the solid-
ity of the ground on which we have built, if the edifice
has been constructed upon the deceitful foundation of nat-
ural purity, ' when the rains descend, and the floods come,
and the winds blow, and beat against that house it will
fall, and the ruin of it will be great.'
I shall expose the moral consequences of this doctrine,
which is, I think, very favorable to the development of con-
science, when I speak of the age at which it may be com-
prehended by children. It is sufficient to say here, that
268 OF THE CONSCIENCE, ETC.
the decision pronounce'd in the Gospel on the human
heart, connected as it is, with the whole Christian doc-
trine, has the primary advantage of imparting mildness to
education. Parents, convinced of the inherent vice of our
nature, in discovering the faults of their children, do not
experience that surprise and deep indignation which in-
clines them to severity ; they are ready to contend in sea-
son with the propensities they have anticipated, and they
do not sleep in a deceitful security. The children, in turn,
more easily convinced of their faults, do not oppose to the
reprimands of their parents such revolt, such obstinate
pride, and avowals, so often false, of pure intentions ;
faults which only aggravate those already committed.
More docile than others, and more easily led to repent-
ance after their transgressions, there is less prospect of
their committing new ones; and this without their seeking
a vain justification in the evil of their nature. They felt
themselves free, before they acted; and the persuasion that
they had power to abstain from the evil which seduced
them, is too just and strong to be shaken.
But in order that children may resist the greatest possi-
ble temptations, and feel true regret when they have yield-
to them, it is necessary to know how to inspire them with
the religious feelings of Avhich their age is susceptible.
This subject remains to be treated of.
( 269 )
CHAPTER VII.
THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF
RELIGIOUS FEELING.
" Atheism is not an opinion; it is no longer the negation of an
opinion ; it is a blindness ; it is a deadness of the moral organ."
J. P. RICHTEH.
THUS far I have reasoned much, have recommended
scrutiny, and invoked experience ; perhaps I shall not be
accused of a blind enthusiasm, if I now speak of religion.
I have wished to come to this subject, and notwithstand-
ing, now that I have fulfilled my intention by first de-
scribing infancy, a sort of fear, although I know not why,
restrains me ; the grandeur of the subject astonishes and
suspends my faculties ; and I remember only the weak-
ness of the age I have to do with. How shall I express
my desire, how advise to present to the limited intelligence
of a child of three or four years, the object which surpass-
es all intelligence., which could not be embraced by our
mind in its most perfect development ?
Nevertheless, I will say, that in the contemplation of
such an object, all idea of common proportion vanishes,
all appears placed upon the same level. To comprehend
God! who can do it but God himself? Men, angels,
children, we can only prostrate ourselves before him. To
23*
270 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY
adore and bless him, to obey his holy law, to submit to*
his immutable decrees, to have a glimpse of his perfections
without seeing them in all their lustre, such ought to be
our employment in time and eternity.
The child is in many respects happily qualified to ful-
fil this universal vocation. Less fettered than we are by
rooted habits, his ties with the earth less binding, he can
believe what he does not see, and love what he does not
intimately know. Grave and solemn impressions are
sometimes painted in his looks, but as yet. he wants lan-
guage to express them. His face has given the idea of
that of angels : radiant, celestial, touching, it has been
used as an emblem of the adoration of pure spirits. His
whole language is a prayer : feeling more than we do his
own weakness, he also knows better his need of assist-
ance, and he possesses much more the spirit of filial ten-
derness. What does he then want in order to approach his
God ? Religion sleeps in his bosom, if I may so say; it
is less necessary to inspire, than to awaken it.
The soul is naturally religious ; this fact which is con-
spicuously shown in the annals of the human race, may
be made manifest in the tenderest infancy ; but education
ought to place it in the strongest light, and this is its most
important task.
This task ought undoubtedly to be fulfilled. We could
not exempt the child from the laws imposed by humanity,
when even the question is to communicate to him the best
of all privileges. Our most natural feeling only becomes
manifest, when the exciting cause is present; otherwise it
is only a vague desire, a want unsatisfied. Even in this
ambiguous state, a propensity may exhibit signs of exist-
ence, although it does not possess the means of gratifica-
tion. He who experiences it, is tormented with a certain
uneasiness, and it impedes the harmonious development
of his faculties. The soul which does not exert all its
DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 271
powers suffers a partial decay, without knowing what is
wanting to its vigor. A young cygnet raised far from the
water, although having no distinct idea of its native ele-
ment, would languish ; restless, agitated, or drooping at
intervals, his despondency, emaciation, and the yellow
tint of his plumage would sufficiently indicate that his
destination was not accomplished. At the sight of a stag-
nant pool, he would plunge into it, and this noble bird,
wallowing in filth, would appear but a degenerate thing,
the refuse and shame of creation. But give him the liv-
ing stream ; let the pure waters of some noble river re-
store his vigor, and you will see the cygnet in its beauty.
In a few days his brilliant whiteness, the grace, majesty
and rapidity of his motions, will show you what his na-
ture is, and what element was wanting to its develop-
ment.
Such is our soul: it can live without adoring God, but
it is languishing and withered; or it can change its de-
sires and plunge in superstition. Such we see it upon the
borders of the Ganges; but on the shores of the Atlantic,
where a new world has risen up, we learn, how religion
elevates the soul.
To develope the noblest instinct of humanity, by giving
it a right direction; to bestow upon the young child such
an amount of religious instruction as is meet for him,
proportioning it to his mental progress this is our duty;
and cares, in themselves so sweet, will also be rewarded
with success. But the longer we delay, this success,
otherwise infallible, will become uncertain, or difficult to
secure.
It seems that sometimes a sort of reverence for holy
things, deters parents from presenting the idea to their
children, before they have attained the age of reason.
Such a scruple would be excusable ; but why are those
who feel it exempt from the same, when other objects are
in question, which they also reverence 1 Do they raise a
272 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY
similar doubt, when the desire is to excite some other
feeling which is necessary, or only laudable 1 Have you
waited in order to render dear and sacred to your son the
name of father, until he rightly knows what constitutes pa-
ternity ? Have you never pronounced to him with love,
the name of his country, before he could form the idea of
his relationship as a citizen ? You wish not to allow
your child the liberty of being ungrateful towards his
country, and you involuntarily conduct him to the possi-
bility of being ungrateful to his God.
There are in a religious education two different de-
signs, which it is important to distinguish ; that of inspir-
ing the child with pious sentiments, and that of teaching
him how to answer those who would deprive him of such
sentiments, by denying the reality of their object. These
two designs should unquestionably be attempted ; but if
you wait for the favorable moment to press the one, you
will lose that of succeeding in the other. There is no
want of tenderness in attempting both at once ; the child
is not an unbeliever who is to be convinced. It is useless
to force arguments upon him ; if you follow this course
before the proper time, you will give him a false science,
or rather a science, which, although true, is not true with
respect to him, since he is not in a state to appreciate the
solidity of the principles upon which it is based. It will
be thus, until the age when it will cease to be easy to di-
rect his sentiments.
There is, I admit, a difficulty opposed to us, which de-
ranges the routine of education. Is it our object to estab-
lish truths ? we would Avish to lay down principles, and
regularly to deduct consequences from them. Is the
question to communicate feelings 1 we would desire to
give an exact idea of the object to which they ought to be
applied, in order to teach children to place their affections
only where they know the cause. If we had presided at
DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOrs FEELING. 273
the formation of moral being, we might hare arranged
things different. We might have had reason spring forth
first, and then nothing would have been cultivated in the
soul but under her auspices. Heaven has not decided
thus. The child already loves, what he has not judged
of; the development of his faculties is not conformed to
logical order, neither the way in which ideas enter his
head ; and the manner in which he connects them is not
like ours. This is sad ; but what can we do ? Shall we
suffer the best gifts to be lost, out of respect to our own
method ? This is the fault, that they who maintain this
sentiment too often commit. To ask if religion is neces-
sary for the child, is to call in question its necessity for
man.
I say more : there is so little necessity of waiting for
the age of reason in order to teach your child piety, that
even if it had attained that age, you ought not, as I think,
to commence the instruction with argument. Presented as
facts, and announcprl with truth and simplicity, the funda-
mental truths of religion may be confided to their own
strength, and of themselves produce conviction. To in-
troduce these great subjects by discussion, by proofs; to
suppose objections for the sake of refuting them, is to give
an inauspicious direction to thought, which injures the de-
velopment of the genuine religious sense; a direction
which is too often implanted, which is difficult to change,
and which tends to make an exercise of the mind, of what
ought to be a worship of the soul.
Was it then only the better to avoid an evil, religious
education ought to precede the age of reason. But let
us not mistake : I do not fear at all that the strongest and
most enlightened argument can shake the foundation of
such an education. With respect to this, even the prog-
ress of light reassures us; since, independently of the
revival of the religious spirit in the present age, the most
274 THK ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY
elevated flights of philosophy have put unbelief to the
hlush. Be assured, you will one day obtain the assent of
reason, but be careful that it may have something to con-
firm it ; and think that the religion which resides only in
the head, is useless for the guidance as well as the happi-
ness of man.
What is the true object of a religious education? It is
to teach the young soul to communicate with God, since
the consciousness of such a communication, whatever
abuse it may have suffered from enthusiasm, is neverthe-
less the very essence of religion. Without the persua-
sion that our cry is heard ; without the hope that at least
a tacit answer is obtained, that blessings are poured upon
us in return for the offering of prayer, there is nothing
consoling, nothing regenerating in worship ; it is no longer
worship, and the lonely spirit soon ceases to present a
useless homage.
In order to establish this intimate and sacred intercourse,
in order to produce the feeling of such a correspondence,
the path opened to us in the Gospel is the only known,
the only sure, and* in short, the only one in which we
could find assistance. Jesus Christ the Mediator, Inter-
cessor, and Redeemer, removes in many ways the obstacles
which human nature opposes to the progress of religion
in our souls. Placing himself in the immense interval
which separates finite beings from Infinity, the unhappy
from the source of happiness, sinners from eternal holi-
ness, he reconciles our hearts to God, he places Him
within our reach, and within that of the humblest among
us. This innumerable multitude, condemned to remain
strangers to the language of cultivated minds, hear
another language ; the ignorant are called, childhood is
called, and all that belong to the human race. Wherever
we find dispositions which are so peculiar to the child,
as love, confidence, and submission, we see Jesus Christ
offer to guide them. In saying ' Suffer little children to
DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 275
come unto me,' he seems to have revealed our duty as pa-
rents, and the general spirit of his worship.
Religion, undoubtedly, could not all at once be compre-
hended by the mind of the child ; the august assemblage
of the truths which compose it, or which rally around it,
are not displayed to his feeble eyes; but all that is most
lovely and consoling in piety, all that supports, animates,
and inflames our souls, and can still re-kindle them upon
the chilling borders of the tomb ; all this, I say, may be
experienced by the child, before he can be taught to rea-
son about them.
Since the distinctive character of Christianity, and the
means of instruction furnished by sacred books, permit us
to inspire our children with the love of God, how can we
avoid making use of such a privilege ! how help foresee-
ing that this feeling, early conceived, will take deep root
in the heart ! If religion has a date, if the period of its
birth is not lost in the weakness of infancy, if there are
remembrances which have preceded it, it is not the insep-
arable companion of existence. Of all the ideas connect-
ed with it, that which is most likely to purify the inmost
recesses of the heart, the persuasion of the presence of
God, has not at once the continuity of a habit, and the
depth of an unceasingly renewed impression. Perhaps
at a later age we might succeed in introducing it through
fear ;_ but then it would assume an inauspicious character.
It is at the era when all nature smiles upon us, when all
our species love and protect us, that the idea of a God who
befriends and watches over us, easily takes possession of
our souls. And how full of blessing is this one idea !
who can appreciate its benefits, who know the inexhaus-
tible fund of hope which is comprised in it ! It shows us
a bright world beyond our own, a celestial perfection far
exceeding the greatest of this human nature, a happiness
more abounding and more pure than we can form any
276 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY
idea of here below ; and, in short, it persuades us that even
affliction is sent for our good. ' Although he slay me,'
says Job, ' I will still trust in him.' In the deepest solitude,
in exile, in old age, in death, God is with us ; he supports,
he hears, he speaks to us, he re-assures us: and if the
danger is great, imminent, inevitable, if the shadows of
death surround us, it is because he would receive us to
his bosom. A mild and rainbow radiance is shed upon
every object, an atmosphere of love envelopes all nature ;
men, animals, even the material creation plants, rivers,
and mountains, all are loved ; all are the works of God ;
all speak a language which serves to tell us He is our
Father; and the peace and happiness which he sheds
abroad in the soul, repeats it with a stronger emphasis.
What other time than that of happy infancy, would we
choose for the communication of such impressions ? What
other time to make a pleasure, of what will always be a
duty ? In order that religion may be fully enjoyed, life
must be in its flower, it must be clothed in all its beauty.
When this beauty shall fade, when the brightness which
environed this terrestrial world shall have disappeared ;
then the heavens, as in the night, will doubtless appear
sparkling with light, but it will be dark around us. It is
to the youth alone that the sun shines in its brightest
splendor ; he alone is permitted to glorify God by lofty
deeds ; upon him is lavishly poured the full treasury of
holy feelings feelings whose blissful remembrance pre-
sents the antepast of eternal felicity, at that advanced age,
when he is no longer able to devise means for his own
happiness.
To pretend to supply, by a bold stroke, or a theatrical
scene, as Rousseau says, the power of long remembrances
and of early habits, is to know but little of the human
heart. A thousand unforeseen circumstances may cause
the scene to fail ; and should it succeed, it would never
DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 277
produce more than a slight impression. Soon life would
return to its former course, and religious ideas be dissipa-
ted ; while on the contrary, the course of life would re-
store them, when we had been careful to associate them
with all the remembrances of youth. Moreover, we should
never be able thus to introduce Christianity, and the con-
sequence would be the possession of a religion destitute of
influence.
Religion ought to be a motive ; from this point we should
never depart. When we thus consider it, we see that it
is essential to prevent the formation of other motives,
which act in a contrary way ; it furthermore, has power
to make those subordinate, which usually act in the same
great line. Thus the fear of blame, or the love of praise,
important interests, the desire of being useful, and all vir-
tuous feelings which most frequently second religious
acts, ought to grow under its shade. Cultivated, as acces-
sory motives, they are good and useful ; and occupy an
important place in tHe varied occurrences of time ; but
each one carries within itself a secret poison, which is not
slowly manifested when its influence is not balanced, or
opposed.
These ideas are so grand and fruitful, that I feel my
impotence to express them. I cannot readily point out
what the eternal existence of an angel would hardly suf-
fice to develope. I must of necessity then be brief, but
will finish, by a consideration of another kind, presented
to another class of readers.
I have spoken until now to parents, who think they
have not religion enough in their families ; it remains to
address those who are doubtful whether they have not too
much, although this last feeling, as I believe, refers to it
in a very mistaken point of view. Religion is the love
of God expressed by obedience to his will. And as the
will of God, such as he has engraven it on our hearts,
24
278 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY
and more expressly announced it in the Gospel, is, that we
might accomplish our whole duty ; we can no more love
God too much, than we can love goodness, of which he is
the eternal source, too much. Christian morality, is the
best morality ; there is no habitual deviation from the
most severe virtue, or the most scrupulous delicacy, which
does not suppose a correspondent change in the spirit of
Christianity ; the law is always with it to condemn trans-
gressors, and to show that they have violated its princi-
ples.
If we faithfully examine the faults, of which men are
accused, who display a high standard of Christianity, we
shall see that these faults are due to the necessarily in-
complete action of the regenerating principle, in the midst
of a Corrupt world ; to the state of conflict connected with
such a principle in society, in families, and even in the
bosom of individuals. What is proved by the inconsis-
tencies, which are so much censured, in certain persons,
who think themselves holy, if it is not the excellence of a
doctrine, whose purity contrasts with the weakness of the
human heart, and gives an odious coloring to its vices ?
What is proved by the hypocrisy, of which false devotees
are guilty, if it is not that the reality of the Christian vir
tues is so far seen, that it is thought to be an advantage to
assume the garb of piety 1 What is proved, in short, by
fanaticism, notwithstanding the fear which this word just-
ly excites ; what is proved by it, if it is not that there is
such a beauty, such a grandeur in religious perceptions,
and they are attended by so much happiness, that they
may become a passion, in despite of their immaterial na-
ture? Let us repress every disorderly movement, howev-
er noble may be its origin ; but in order to prevent this
kind of excess, as well as every other, a religious educa-
tion early commenced, and judiciously conducted, is the
most effectual means.
DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 279
When a feeling very general in our species, is at the
same time- so natural that we cannot exhaust its source,
the only means to prevent it from gaining the ascendan-
cy, is ourselves to direct the course of it. How would
you keep your son from the influence of religion? Its
worship is not only celebrated in temples, but the human
race is so constituted that a voice of prayer is heard on
every side. Poetry, the arts, and even the theatre, repre-
sent the image of heavenly things, although sometimes
robbed of their beauty. In all places on the earth, op-
pressed weakness turns to God, persecuted innocence calls
upon him, grief invokes him with its tears. Where will
"you take your child that these pervading feelings may
never reach his heart 1 The strongest impressions are
caused by certain random-strokes, which unexpectedly
fasten upon the soul. You therefore deliver a powerful
resource to the mercy of events and men, by neglecting to
possess yourself of it in season.
We may ask enthusiasts in every kind of worship,
where they make their most zealous proselytes ? Is it in
pious and well-regulated families, where Christian habits
are contracted from the cradle ? Undoubtedly not ; it is
among those abandoned beings who have long remained
strangers to religion. Whether the aberrations of passion,
or an education altogether worldly, has turned the thoughts
of man from the great interests of eternity, when once
these interests are presented to him, when he fully con-
siders the destiny of the immortal soul, no one can an-
swer for the course his imagination will take. To reserve
for the most dangerous age, the novelty of perceptions al-
ways striking, and sometimes terrible, is to risk a revolu-
tion too potent for human weakness. A sudden conversion
is, I admit, often a happy, and sometimes a necessary cri-
sis, but it is one which might be spared by a pious educa-
tion.
280 THE ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY
This last reflection has not escaped the observation of
all authors. There, are some, possessing very little de-
votion, who have advised, I am sorry to say, a sort of in-
oculation of religious feeling, to the end that they might
early deaden its activity. There is some truth in the
observation upon which such advice is founded, but the
object will not succeed ; when, in order to be more secure
of it, they confine themselves to the teaching of a sterile
doctrine of a Christianity purely nominal. If vital re-
ligion is not pre-eminent in the soul, we shall encounter
danger, when our object was to avoid it. It is necessary
that an impulse be given, before it can be directed : noth-
ing can accomplish nothing. A religion that comes not"
from the heart is not religion, and it produces happy ef-
fects no farther than it deters from fatal ones.
Whether you desire, then, to preserve your child from
the wildness of fanaticism, or the desolate sterility of an
existence without hope, there is but one course to follow ;
inspire him. with the mild sentiments of piety. Religion,
which pervades the heart of infancy,, takes the happy tint
of that age, and is connected with its innocent enjoyments.
United to all its pleasures, she has nothing sad ; and to
its studies, she has nothing rigid. Intellectual and reli-
gious culture constrained to take the lead, follow a com-
mon direction, and transmit a character of reason and
sanctity. The whole work of education is thereby facilitated.
That which is most familiar to the soul, religious feeling,
adds to the warmth of the natural affections. Religion
has scarcely commenced its reign in the heart, than al-
ready, faithful to its charming name, it binds fast* The
chain which connects man with God, unites us also to
our children. A feeling of decided respect subjects them
* It is well known that the word religion comes from religio to
tie hard, to bind fast. [EnJ
DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS FEELING. 281
to our authority, and even softens the impression of our
discipline, by persuading them that it is not optional with
us, and that a necessary severity is the effect of our obe-
dience to the common law. We are the representatives
of the Supreme Being, whom we adore with them ; and
from the sublime idea of a Heavenly Father, a sacred-
ness descends upon the earthly parents, which human
imperfection cannot destroy.
24*
( 282 )
CHAPTER VIII.
THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF YOUNG CHILDREN.
FIRST PERCEPTIONS.
" To accustom children to read the Bible, is to teach them to keep
habitually within reach of the means designed by God himself for
our sanctification." MRS. MORE.
FOR a child to believe in God, is almost to adore him.
Faith and religious worship are intimately connected,
since the idea of the Creator once conceived and under-
stood, could not fail to excite in the soul sentiments of
gratitude and love. As these two subjects may be sepa-
rately considered, however, we will first ask in what way
we should make the child acquainted with God. We
may follow the same which God himself has made use of,
to become manifest to the human race, by relating to the
young pupil the events which have accompanied the suc-
cessive revelations of him.
' Religion,' says Fenelon, ' is altogether historic ; it is by
a tissue of marvellous facts, that we find its establishment,
its perpetuity, and all which ought to incline us to believe
and practise it.' These words give the key to religious
instruction. History furnishes the thread which connects
eternal truths together, whether of morality or faith : she
offers to the mother the means of unfolding them, and
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF YOUNG CHILDREN. 283
procures so much pleasure to the child, as disposes him
to admit them.
It is true, that an understanding of the facts-made known
in the Bible, seems already to suppose some perceptions
of a very elevated nature; such as the existence of God,
of his principal attributes, and of the immateriality of the
soul : we may, nevertheless, relate to the child many parts
of the Sacred History, before he is even in a state clearly
to conceive these grand ideas. We are not aware how
much we often forestall instruction by frequent illustra-
tions. The definition of a word is often more difficult for
the child to comprehend, than to arrive at its meaning in
some other way. A mist which is gradually dissipated,
is the image of what passes in his mind, as soon as he is
introduced into a new region ; and as the words we make
use of are explained only by other words, which them-
selves need explanation, we feel that it is often necessary
to depend upon the instinct of divination, in order, one
after another, to elucidate vague perceptions.
We ought, nevertheless, to facilitate as much as possi-
ble, the work of this instinct. In relating to the child the
history of the creation, of the terrestrial paradise, or any
thing connected with them, you may pause upon the name
of God, and without frightening him by questions too di-
rect, sound him sufficiently to know what he understands
by this name. The interrogatory method employed with
address, searches out truth almost invents it : the child
animated by the pleasure of discovery, appropriates what
has been really suggested to him, and preserves as his
own good idea what he has been obliged to admit. This
method of ancient date, is now very much employed, and
is one of the best means to make use of, for the instruction
of childhood.
As every body, however, does not know how to exercise
it, and as timid or very backward children, may be ren-
284 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF
dered unhappy by the necessity of replying, we ought
not to attach too much importance to- this means. The
simple exposition of a truth, as soon as there is an op-
portunity for expressing it, will succeed equally well,
however little we may possess the art of awakening curi-
osity. The object is to interest the child. In childhood,
knowledge is so imperfect, that it derives its greatest value
from a remembrance of the pleasure attached to its acqui-
sition; since it will be from these remembrances that the
pupil will at some future day endeavor to extend it.
With regard to religion, above all, it is to be feared that
impressions of constraint and weariness would be indefi-
nitely prolonged during life.
I am decided against the employment of proofs; and I
would banish them, if for this reason alone, that they
wound feeling, when it exists, and retard its formation,
if it exists not. But I would yet have another motive.
All proof supposes a doubt, and often possesses a power
to call it into being, which fails to dissipate it. If the
truth that we wished to establish, was evident, we un-
doubtedly should not take the trouble to demonstrate it ;
it is, then, necessary to give prominence to the contrary
proposition, in order to justify the employment of demon-
stration. Hence two things are to be taught error, that
it may be refuted ; and truth, that it may be engraven on
the mind : but the first is at least useless, and leaves often
but too many traces. When we wish to prove the exist-
ence of God, for example, we say that the admirable
order of the world cannot be attributed to chance; and
thereby we give reality and consistence to a chimerical
being, named chance. We must needs create something,
in order to say there is nothing ; but, as I have already
remarked, the imagination of children is of that nature,
that it is easy to call up phantoms in "their mind, but not
so easy to dispel them.
YOUNG CHILDREN. FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 285
What method do you take to communicate all other
kinds of knowledge to your child 1 You tell him that
the earth is round, long before it is possible to demon-
strate the fact to him. You give him the history of past
ages as truth, without discussing the validity of the histo-
rian's testimony : you affirm facts, simply as facts, and re-
serve the examination of them (or a future period. Why
would you pursue a different course in relation to religion?
In appearing to submit to the scrutiny of the child, questions
decidedly above his reach, you deceive him upon the ex-
tent of his faculties: you impose upon his judgment still
more, by inciting him to draw conclusions without suffi-
cient knowledge ; thus manifesting your belief that he is
equal to the task. Whatever you do, he will believe you.
His faith, which it is your object to enlighten, remains
blind, and it consists of nothing but faith in you. Since
ynnr persuasion alone influences the child, why that dis-
play of reasoning, of which he so little appreciates the
justice ; why not simply affirm truths which the highest
philosophy admits ?
Nevertheless, without giving proof upon proof, we may
transmit to the soul of the child that faith which feels the
impossibility of doubting, and which is the most common
of all. To show him, on every hand, the effects of God's
power, is to convince him that there is a God. The idea
of a cause is so engrafted in our nature, that wherever the
power of man ceases, children seize with avidity the idea
of a Creator. The existence of an object, of a phenome-
non, of the action whatever it may be, appears to them the
performance of an intelligent will ; they see nothing but life,
or the effects of it, throughout the world. Then, when the
impossibility of tracing it to a human cause is demonstrated
to them, they admit a super-human agent. They will ask
you what this agent is, but will not question its existence.
The question of the existence of God, then, needs not to be
brought forward ; it is sufficient to speak of his attributes.
286 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF
A knowledge of the attributes of God, as they are dis-
played in creation, in the heart of man, and in his history,
constitutes the eternal object of education, and even of all
science. From the child of three years old, who finds a
testimony of God's goodness in the pleasure he receives
from roses and strawberries, even to Newton who recog-
nizes a sovereign intelligence in the arrangement of the
universe, every mind, as well as all the faculties of mind,
will find matter proportioned to its powers, in the study of
the attributes of God. This study, the dimensions of
which increase as knowledge advances, ought at first to
be accommodated to the weakness of the child, and to be
presented to him only as the explanation of interesting
facts, on which we desire to fix his attention.
The moral attributes or perfections of the Creator are not
to the child a subject of astonishment, however far he may
be from conceiving of their grandeur; and he sees with
reverence various traces of them in nature. But the in-
communicable attributes of God, his eternity and immensi-
ty, confound his thoughts as well as ours. The habits of
his mind render it particularly difficult to conceive of im-
materiality. Accustomed vividly to represent to himself
absent objects, he finds more difficulty than we do in at-
tributing reality to a spiritual essence, and we shall better
succeed in leading him to do it by seeking first to con-
vince him of the immateriality of the soul. Children easi-
ly admit that that which loves and thinks in them, is not
their body, nor any part of it: we might believe that their
own confused observations agree with what we teach
them in respect to this, so promptly do they admit the idea
of a spiritual and internal inhabitant. The necessary re-
sult of this idea, is immortality ; and the hope that the souls
of those who die rest in the bosom of God, and are there
re-united, appears to be as delightful to them as to us ;
they express it in their manner, and we see that it pre-
YOUNG CHILDREN. FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 287
pares for them the most powerful consolations. The
voice of conscience, which they have been taught to con-
sider as the voice of God speaking within them, gives
them the feeling of an intimate and intellectual communi-
cation between their soul and its Creator. The idea that
God accompanies them wherever they go, surprises them
but little ; it is because, as I before said, they often imag-
ine themselves followed by their mother's eye, when they
do not see her. But they have more difficulty in con-
ceiving the spiritual idea of the God of the universe. The
material works of the Almighty appear to them to pro-
ceed from a material cause ; the immense distance of pla-
ces, where His power is exerted, at the same time taffies
their intelligence ; and from this, results moments of error,
which it is necessary to remedy, without attaching too
much importance to them.
It ought to be remembered, that with regard to the ob-
jects of religion, we possess two faculties of opposite ef-
fects; imagination, which is incessantly creating forms :
and reason, which denies the reality of these forms. We,
whose reason is more mature, and whose imagination less
vivid than that of children, are but too often subject to the
law which obliges us to represent, more or less materially,
the various objects of worship. The vault of heaven, the
walls of a temple, sometimes even, for want of another
shape, the letters of a word become painted before a mind
to which an image is necessary. But we know that noth-
ing appertaining to these, constitutes God : our lips hesi-
tate to pronounce words which good sense abjures; but
our most intimate conceptions are less irreproachable
than our language. Our language is not entirely so, so
much do tongues, the children of the imagination, betray
their origin. The purest terms which we employ to de-
signate immaterial beings, such as spirit, essence, intelli-
gence, have a corporeal root, and relate to some one of
our sensations.
288 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF
There is an invincibly terrestrial element attached to all
our conceptions here below, but we are able to fancy them
released from this alliance. Thought sees celestial ob-
jects through the cloud from which she cannot disengage
herself, and conceives the idea of their purity, in spite of
the atmosphere which surrounds them. We know that
these veils will be withdrawn; that all these visions, this
troublesome assemblage of forms and figures, will disap-
pear before immutable truth. Should we, because we are
but human, refrain from exalting our condition as much as
possible 1 The expectation of another existence already
ennobles us, and our language imperfectly accords with
the hymns of angels, if it offers the sincere expression of
a sacrifice of love.
We ought, then, to be extremely indulgent towards the
child, for faults from which our greatest circumspection
is not able entirely to preserve us. When a sally of youth
escapes him, the natural effect of a lively and whimsical
imagination, we ought gently to correct it, without offence,
and without laughter, and, above all, without believing
that our labor will be lost, because we see some marks of
levity. Feeling makes its way across the inconstancy of
infantine attention. Falling water gradually wears the
rock ; but how many drops appear lost !
One of the greatest advantages of the historical instruc-
tion of religion, is to satisfy the desire for representations
and figures, without giving place to superstition, at least
when Ave adhere to the testimony of the sacred authors.
Another advantage is, that it will for a long time supply
the place of dogmatic or theological instruction. The
declaration of the principal articles of faith, is implicitly
contained in the narrations of the two Testaments, and
under this simple and speaking form, the most important
truths find an access to the young mind, that it would
be otherwise difficult to give. Even at a more advanced
YOUNG CHILDREN FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 289
period of education, the dry doctrines of the catechisms
produces but little fruit, such at least as is ordinarily
taught in schools. We are obliged to make the children
repeat, word for word, obscure phrases, which is allied to
nothing in their minds, and is therefore a sure means of
discouraging them. The serious importance attached to
errors of their memory, alarms them; and the dark clouds
which envelope religious ideas, make them experience a
mixture of terror and weariness, from which they are im-
patient to be delivered. What acquired formula could
balance in utility the effect of such an impression! The
more salutary the belief, and the more it makes an essen-
tial part of the Christian faith, so much the more necessary
is it, to associate it, together with facts, which alone are
interesting to children.
Very pious instructers, it is said, teach abstract dogmas
with success : may it not be from their piety that this sue
cess arises, rather than from the method which they make
use of? They influence others by the feeling which ani-
mates them, they involuntarily transmit their fervor.
Persuasion is often communicate J by the means we least
think of.
This power of sympathy, this facility with which one
flame kind'es another in the soul of the child, shows what
may be the influence of woman, and gives great dignity
to her condition. Upon her depends the religion of future
generations. Her prolonged influence may confirm her
daughters in piety, and leave in the memory of her sons,
who go far away from her, traces which time can never
efface. It is hers to cultivate dispositions the seeds of
which have been sown by God himself. "When all that
is sacred in the mother," says J. P. Richter, "addresses it-
self to all that is sacred in the child, their souls understand
and reply to each other."
The best mode of procedure with little children, whether
25
290 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF
our object be to make them love religion, or to connect it
with moral perceptions, appears to me so well described
in an English work, that I will take the liberty of quoting
two pages.
" But how, some parents will ask, shall we proceed in
order to direct the affections of these young creatures in
the ways of God, and duty ? This appears impossible.
Believe me, we may accomplish much, even with very
young children, by placing gradually before their eyes
religious truths, associated with agreeable images, if our
manner only expresses tenderness and serenity, and we
are animated with a spirit conformed to our design. The
names of God and Jesus Christ ought early to be rendered
familiar to children; and the power, holiness, and particu-
larly, the love of these divine persons, should be so de-
picted, and rendered so sensible by artless and simple rep-
resentations, that the thoughts of them would sink deeply
into their young souls. And while we thus give to the
child the first elements of religious instruction, we inspire
him with holy respect, and a love of heavenly things.
But we must particularly avoid fatiguing him with long
discourses, and also exciting his emotions too strongly. A
little here, and a little there will be the mother's policy.
And even for this little, she will choose moments when
the child will lend her a willing ear, and will suffer the
conversation to drop, before the subject becomes wearisome
or insipid. Nothing will more advance her object, than
short and simple narrations from the Bible; such, for ex-
ample, as Jesus Christ taking little children in his arms
and blessing them, or of the same Jesus, restoring the wid-
ow's son to life, and many others similar. If these histo-
ries are related with a cheerful air, and animated with such
touching simplicity as would present them vividly to the
imagination of the child, he will rarely fail to take pleas-
ure in them, and will ask you to repeat them again and
YOUNG CHILDREN FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 291
again. When once engraven in his memory, it is evident
that we may allude to them with advantage, when we
have occasion to reprimand or exhort the little pupil.
" A very important point for the mother in communicating
instruction, is always to bear in mind, that she will suc-
ceed much better with children by exciting their sympa-
thy, than by addressing their reason. It is doubtless ne-
cessary, that good sense should characterize all we say;
but if the feelings of the child do not correspond with his
conviction, he may be fully persuaded of certain truths,
without their having any practical influence upon him." *
The parables of the gospel an admirable method of
instruction for simple minds happily leads also to some
development of moral ideas ; but I would not have even
the precepts of the scripture singly presented. A duty
imposed under an uninteresting form, produces a disa-
greeable impression upon children. When a passage of
the sacred writers is always used to support a prohibition,
or an act of severity, it seems that the will of God is em-
ployed to veil our own , and hence, results an indifference,
and a sort of distrust of the secret object of our lessons.
Children are often actuated by laudable and entirely
disinterested motives; they are, above all, sensible to the
happiness of being approved, of being loved by their pa-
rents, and eyen by God,
But when one pays no regard to these feelings, and pre-
sents a dry, and oftener a troublesome rule, it is immedi-
ately necessary to have recourse to the idea of future
punishment and reward; and chiefly to punishment, for
this makes the deepest impression upon the child. It
presents itself always to his mind, clothed in those mate-
rial images, which through our means he is but too much
* A Practical View of Christian Education in its early stages.
292 THE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF
in the way of forming, while we present to his hopes but
spiritual rewards, at which it is not in his nature to re-
joice. Fear therefore, predominates in this kind of im-
pressions, and this is the feeling most injurious to youth.
There is true barbarity in destroying the security of in-
fant minds, and it is plainly against the divine Avill to do
it. In order to indemnify the child for his want of
strength, Heaven has endowed him with a confiding spirit:
to show him any other deity than the good and paternal
God, is at the same time a lie and a blasphemy ; it is even
an act of dark and revolting paganism; for how shall we
designate a divinity, who, under a sacred name, is used as
a bugbear to frighten children.
The idea of God cannot indeed, be separated from his
attribute of justice; we should therefore falsify in another
sense this august idea, if we did not sometimes present him
under a severe aspect to children. God's abhorrence to
evil, and his anger when his law is outraged, are the
necessary consequences of his most beneficent attributes.
There is, at the same time, a sort of fear in the child, ne-
cessarily accompanying the persuasion that an immense
power is exerted to maintain order in the universe, and to
make its laws respected ; but such a fear is absorbed in
the predominant idea of the goodness of God, of the pro-
tection which his most rigorous justice assures to the fee-
ble. He is the father of little children ; he keeps, he takes
care of those who are good; he hears them when they
pray, and aids them in obeying him. If they even com-
mit one fault involuntarily, he pardons it when they re-
pent. God undoubtedly detests evil, and cannot look with
complacency upon the wicked ; but he loves his creatures,
he opens his arms to them as soon as with sincere contri-
tion they have shut out evil desires from the heart. Je-
sus Christ has interceded, he was sacrificed for men; by
invoking this sacred name with love, the guilty is par-
YOUNG CHILDREN FIRST PERCEPTIONS. 293
doned, and even restored to favor. There are no longer
any traces of his sin.
Such is the entirely evangelical doctrine, of which we
may give a slight outline to the child. The thought of
the Almighty power, of a pure and holy God, of his love
which is proportioned to the efforts of the child to obey
him; this thought, I say, will by degrees form his mo-
rality. The influence of the mild and tender sentiments
of piety is naturally more salutary, and at the same time
more constant than is that of the sentiments of fear ; since,
owing to the lightness of youth, it is very easy to escape
from the idea of a God whom we never see, and who does
not punish instantaneously.
With regard to a union so important and desirable as
religion and 'morality in education, it seems to me very
essential to be ourselves well acquainted with the point in
question. Doubtless the only proof of the progress, I will
say of the existence even of religion in the heart, is drawn
from the power which it exerts over the conduct. The
moral point of view is the one to which it is always ne-
cessary to recur, because from this alone we judge of the
sincerity and good direction of religious ideas. But it is
nevertheless essential to place eternal interests in the fore'
ground, to make the accomplishment of our duties here
below considered as the necessary condition of our union
with God in another life. If this order is inverted, and
our object is this life alone if to this end we live wisely
and in an honorable manner, \ve take from religion all
its force and virtue. When we use it as the only means,
the consequence is that the means foil. The essence of
religion consists in the love of God ; its interests are eter-
nal : inspire such a sentiment, therefore, if you wish reli-
gion to serve as the foundation for morality; let the Al-
mighty be considered as the author of all good, as the
dispenser of all joy, before you represent him as the judge,
25*
294 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.
or the severe censor. Why, to produce piety, should we
take measures that we would not to excite an earthly af-
fection ? The mother has for a long time caressed her
new-born child, before she corrects him ; she is for a long
time careful to manifest an amiable and affectionate spirit,
that the remembrance of her tenderness may at a future
day, temper the effect of her severity. God himself acts
thus with a little child, and manifests himself by benefits,
before addressing him in the stern voice of conscience. It
is injustice to the Most High, if we may so speak, to pre-
sent Him to the child under an aspect that he would not
choose, and which we would not choose for ourselves.
An excessive eagerness to reap the fruits of piety, often
prevents us from cultivating its loot, which is the love of
God.
(295)
CHAPTER IX.
RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.
" The spirit of God, which dwells with the pore in heart, will in-
spire the little child with language to address him." FENELON.
IF, during the whole course of religious education, the
desire of rendering homage to God does not increase in
proportion as instruction is unfolded, a knowledge of the
most elevated truths remains unfruitful in the heart. All
nature, and the Gospel, tell us of a Creator, hut it is by
means of worship alone, that our soul enters into commu-
nion with Him. Without worship we remain strangers
to God, indifferent to his perfections, indifferent whether,
even in a feeble degree, his image is produced in us. It
is by worship, principally, that religion, vital, active,
and fruitful in good works, takes possession of the indi-
vidual.
The worship of the heart is doubtless the first of all.
A homage involuntarily offered, doubtless has more ear-
nestness and a sincerity more indubitable, than a homage
provoked by example, supported by habit, and directed by
customary forms ; but how shall we lead the child to this
pure adoration? How excite at first, and renew after-
wards, the pious transports which elevate the soul even to
God, without any external impulse 1 Where shall we
296. RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.
procure the heavenly flame, that we may communicate it
constantly, and keep the lamp always burning 1
The object we aim at, is the spontaneous worship of the
soul, the adoration of a spiritual God in spirit and in
truth ; but this object we know not how to attain at once:
care, and a judicious choice of means is necessary in order
to arrive at it. What does education present, that we can
obtain in any other way 7
The most natural means, and those best fitted to the
proposed object, will be for the mother to make a free and
rapid communication of her own impressions. Let her
feel vividly the benefits of God, and the child will feel
them likewise. If, when he receives an unexpected pleas-
ure, you return thanks to God for him, he will soon unite
his homage with yours. "O my God! I thank thee that
thou hast made such a person so good to me," is the little
tribute of gratitude which Miss Hamilton advised should
be suggested to the child, as soon as he becomes the ob-
ject of an unhoped for favor. God, who holds in his hand
the hearts of all men ^God who clothes the lilies of the
field, and is not unmindful even of the little birds God
who is the immediate author of all that we admire in na-
ture, and the dispenser of these brilliant faculties by which
frail humanity has produced so many miracles of art.
Here is the subject of a thousand dialogues, the deep
which may cover a thousand interesting forms: here is
the aliment which may be proportioned to every degree of
feeling as well as intelligence in the pupil, and provide for
their greatest development.
But the most regular means will always be the most
certain. It should therefore consist of private worship,
such as comports with the age of the child, of exercises of
piety daily continued, and always suited to his growing
capacity. Regularity is necessary to all of us : it is only
by means of time that we can influence the soul : we
RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 297
must devote it to the accomplishment of all our desires.
And since time, which among the Creator's gifts we have
most at our disposal, acts upon the one we may least dis-
pose of the affections is it not very happy that hy its
assistance we may obtain an influence over our involun-
tary emotions ? And when feelings of piety, those faith-
ful guardians of our heart, and therefore of our conduct,
are the question, how can we, when we would prove
them, trust to those momentary impressions which are
continually deceiving us? how can we omit having re-
course to that particular appropriation of certain hours to
worship, which has been found useful on so many occa-
sions.
If it is true that we cannot depend upon ourselves, how
much less can we depend upon the child ! More
changeable, more volatile than we are, he is less accus-
tomed to occupy himself with objects purely intellectual.
Morally feeble, without even perceiving what is necessary
to him, he ought to learn to desire it. It is necessary
that there should be rooted in the constitution, if I may
use the expression, a desire to grow in spiritual things, to
receive every day from God, strength in the inner man.
To this effect everything of inferior order habits, modes,
example should be presented as the necessary instruments
of that most elevated work of education, the formation of a
religious will, and that consecration of the whole life,
which is the result of it.
The same sacred books which furnish an occasion of
instruction in religious education, are found to be a great
aid in worship ; that is to say, a powerful means of ele-
vating the soul to God. The Scriptures have a peculiar
language, energetic and significant, which produces an
unparalleled effect upon those who possess its spirit, which
effect is a matter of surprise to those who do not thus feel
it Children who are endowed with such a wonderful
298 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.
instinct in every thing that appertains to the expression of
thought, quickly feel its force and beauty. Select passa-
ges of the bible, read in the bible itself, and not from any
abridgment or extract book, inspire them with respect,
mingled with great interest. The majesty and oriental
brilliancy of the imagery, in the Old Testament, captivate
their imagination ; the plainness and simplicity of the
parables in the New, soften their hearts. But the Psalms,
above all, open to them an abundant source of consolation
and love. They draw thence a feeling for the beauties of
Creation, and learn the harmonious concord between re-
ligion and nature. The youngest children repeat these
with true delight, and never hear them, without pleasure
in after life. *
It is desirable that little religions canticles, more par-
ticularly adapted to infancy, should be composed after these
perfect models. In the modern schools, called infant
schools, as well as in many English families, children
sing in concerts, hymns which produce the most melting
effect. They all seem penetrated with the feelings express-
* The force of these earliest impressions, is the reason that we
have not succeeded in adopting for our church music translations
superior in poetical merit to the feeble version of the Psalms, by
Clemen! Marot. The words which we have heard in infancy,
always act more powerfully upon the heart. It is for the reason
that the author gives, for retaining in France an old version of the
Psalms, that we are sorry to see any new translation of the Scrip-
tures. The words and the phraseology, to which from infancy we
have listened with reverence, become hallowed in our minds,
along with the ideas they convey. We would not like to see an
aged and venerable friend dressed in the newest fashion ; much less
do we desire to see the Holy Scriptures altered in their dress to
correspond to the current language of the day. They have de-
scended to us from antiquity, let us hand them down to our pos-
terity unchanged and unadulterated. [En.]
RfcLIGIOTJS WORSHIP. 299
ed, and the youngest among them delight to join their
feeble voices with their elders.
Why, when the object is so good, and the means so in
nocent, should we refuse to employ the magical aid of
harmony? The music of song particularly, produces on
him who executes it a singularly powerful and character-
istic impression; he pronounces as if by inspiration, the
words associated with it, and it seems that he who sings,
breathes out his own emotion a dangerous property of
this art, when we consider the sentiments which they
ordinarily convey, and there is therefore more reason that,
in education, we should recall them to their ancient and
sacred design.
Even when there is but one child to educate, we may
still call music to aid our worship. The mother when
addressing her first born, may alreadyin her songs, pro-
claim the blessings of Deity. " How," says J. P. Richter,
"shall we impart gentleness to the young spirit in any
more effectual way, than by means of that voice of song
which issues from the soul ; that voice already loved by
the child, when it spoke but in simple words, and now
appears suddenly clothed with brightness, and as if come
from the heavenly glory?"
This however is a mere accessory. The most impor-
tant act of worship, that which constitutes its very essence,
is prayer. The idea of prayer, at once so grand and sim-
ple, is allied to all our relations with Deity. The simple
contemplation of the Divinity almost supposes prayer,
since associated with it is aa invincible desire to draw
from the immense source of strength, of holiness, and
happiness. It is in our nature to pray: prayer is the sigh
of the captive soul, an anticipation of its deliverance, a
presentiment of eternity. In every degree of civilization
man prays. The savage, who is a stranger to the bene-
fits of revelation, prays; and the Christian, who is perfected
300 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.
in faith, prays also. All that we can conceive of the con-
dition of heavenly intelligences, is prayer : we believe the
angels pray, and we know that Jesus Christ when on
earth prayed unceasingly. The necessity of prayer has
appeared so inherent even in the most sublime essence,
that there is a passage in the Talmud where it is said, that
"God himself prays" an extravagant thought unques-
tionably but in harmony with some secret cord of our
heart, of that eager and suffering heart, which cannot think
of perfection without a transport and an aspiration to-
wards a superior state of being.
This act of invocation, so natural in itself, is so much
the more agreeable to the little child, because he passes
his life in asking. Our language in addressing God is
almost all borrowed from his, so do his relations with
us offer an image, imperfect, it is true, but nevertheless
striking, of ours with the Divinity. In all his troubles
he cries, "my father," and we call upon "our father" also.
He will feel that he ought to pray, as soon as the smallest
ray from on high penetrates his soul.
With respect to prayer, as well as the whole of worship,
the regular observance of it is the course which conducts
to its spontaneous and involuntary offering. I think we
ought to endeavor, then, each day to elevate the soul of the
child towards its author, without even awaiting the moment
when instruction, properly speaking, commences. The
name of God is never entirely unknown to the child: he
has heard this sacred name pronounced with respect and
love, before he has attached any distinct idea to it, and
therefore, when it is awakened in its grandeur, it finds his
heart prepared. If you perceive that such an impression
is produced, gradually nourish and strengthen it by keep-
ing it gentle and serene ; and if you have children of a
more advanced age, who already enter with solemnity
into the benefit of prayer, at the close of this holy exer-
RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 301
cise, go and seek your youngest-born, take him in your
arms, join his little hands together, and in a brief and nat-
ural manner, implore the blessing of the Most High upon
his brothers and sisters, and himself. This worship
ought not to last but an instant ; but this instant is sufficient
to bring forward a tender germ, and each day will lead
to a new development.
Even when you have no other children, you may asso-
ciate your son with you in prayer, while he is yet very
young. Teach him to say ' Oh my God, I love thee,
because thou art so good ; I pray thee to love me also ! '
If these simple words are only accompanied with feeling
on your part, the child will understand their meaning ;
they will at least excite in him a tender affection, and this
is all we can desire. He will undoubtedly ask you if
you see the good God ; you will tell him no, but that He
sees you, that he hears and knows all things, and that he
loves good children.
It may be seen that practically I place agreeable in-
struction and worship in the fore-ground. But if it is
necessary that one precede the other, (I may be pardoned
for thinking thus,) I would commence with worship.
When we speak of terrestrial objects, it is necessary to
know, in order to love them ; but when the question is of
God, it is only by adoring that we can comprehend him ;
and love produces intelligence. This appears singular,
but 'prayer is a supernatural work,'* and may be accom-
plished by unusual means. That great genius, who was
born in the bosom of paganism says, ' The soul better
comprehends divine truths in the flight of a holy inspira-
tion, than when guided by cold and circumspect reflection.
And let us not pretend that this has nothing to do with
* Leighton's Expository Works.
26
302 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.
children. They also have their extacies, their sudden
illuminations, which are sometimes the more striking
from being contrasted with the habitual obscurity of their
impresssions.
I believe a sensible and forward child, when nearly
three years old, may admit the first dawning of religion
into his soul, and consequently become capable of wor-
ship. I know we may retard this moment. There are
very intelligent mothers, who do not begin to make their
children pray, until after they have attained their seventh
year. When piety has been inspired in any other way ;
when the feelings are already such, that the anticipation
of prayer holds as distinct a place in the spirit" as the act
itself, this delay may have the advantage of reserving the
novelty, and consequently a stronger impression of prayer,
for the age when less docile children are more disposed
to avoid us. But when this is not the case, I would never
advise to sacrifice the assured effect of habit, for a ceitain
economy in the employment of means, which we cannot
always have the disposal of. It is risking much to de-
pend, for a difficult age, upon a resource which this very
age will render less easy to employ.
Without speaking of the principal benefit of prayer
the grace which it obtains from Heaven this worship,
direc.ted by an intelligent mother, becomes the most use-
ful instrument in forming the character of a child. Noth-
ing more directly influences his mind with respect to re-
ligion, than the aid which we solicit upon this very point.
To ask that we may love God more and more, is the
surest means of becoming affected with his love; to im-
plore the gift of a tender piety, active and tolerant to wards
men, is to conceive a just idea of what such a feeling ought
to be. Care should be taken that the child do not recite
vain forms mechanically; and that every word he pro-
nounces should come from his heart. It is the same
RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 303
with respect to morality. If the mother makes her child
repeat after her, sentence by sentence, little simple prayers
that she will vary according to the occasion, she will
thereby have a sweet means of communicating to the
child, all the feelings she desires should animate him.
Gratitude towards those who take care of him, sweetness,
docility, zeal to fulfil his little duties, in a word, the best
dispositions of childhood may be promoted by means of
worship.*
In order to recall the wandering mind of the child,
and to render present to his thoughts the great objects of
religion, the mother may commence for herself a more
solemn invocation than I dare presume to dictate. I
therefore borrow the following from one of the best reli-
gious writers of our church, M. Cellerier.
* The remembrance of the unaffected and fervent piety of a little
motherless child, who was at sis years of age, much with us, is
fresh in our recollection. Il was pleasant to go, at her hour of bed
time, and witness the serenity of her mind when offering up her
simple petitions. With a voice soft and sweet as we might imag-
ine that of a seraph, she called upon ' Our Father, which art in
heaven ' her heart seemed to expand with" more than usual con-
fidence towards her friends at this period, and she seemed delighted
to talk with them about God and heaven, and to ask questions
upon religious subjects. One evening, she was more than usually
confidential, and for the first time almost in her life, remarked upon
the faults of another. She spoke of one of her little companions
who had told a lie. She thought she must be afraid to pray to God,
because she had been wicked ; ' but, Aunt,' said she, in tones of per-
fect humility and innocence, ' I don't do wicked things.' This was
not boasting, but the testimony of a clear conscience ; and although
when she was older, Mary Treat was deeply sensible of the fallen
nature of which she partook, and of her need of regenerating grace,
ye: when in the bloom of life she was called to lie down upon a bed
of death, she evinced all the serenity and confidence in God which
had marked her childhood, and her conscience bore witness that she
had not done wicked things. [ED.J
304 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.
' Lord, our God and our father, we prostrate ourselves
before thee to invoke thee. May thy Holy Spirit dispose
us to pray to Thee with sincerity and fervor ; and may
the adorable name of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of men,
ascend to thy throne, and obtain thy blessing upon us.'*
But concerning the child, in order that what I have in
view may be fairly understood, I subjoin some little pray-
ers which he will easily be able to comprehend, at the
age of three years. I have laid aside doctrinal instruc-
tion, in order to express the feelings which he may really
experience. One may readily compose those, which are
better and more complete ; since, conformably to the spirit
of childhood, I have done little more than offer one peti-
tion at a time ; but I ought to say, however, that the trial
of them, has produced good effects.
O my God, my God ! how many blessings thou hast
bestowed on me, how many pleasures thou hast given me !
Thou hast given me kind parents, brothers and sisters to
play with me, and nurses to take care of me. Thou hast
given me a great many things which make me happy.
Continue all these blessings to me, O my God: I ask it in
the name of Jesus Christ, thy Son.
* The following as near as we can recollect, are the words of a
child of seven years old. ' O God, I thank thee for giving me so
many good things in this world, and for the Bible, which tells about
the Saviour, who loves little children, and died to save their souls.
Wilt thou make me a good child, that I may love thee and Jesus
Christ the Saviour, and be obedient to my mother, and kind to my
sister. Forgive me for having been idle and bad tempered : Oh
God, bless my dear mother and grandmother, my aunt, and my sis-
ter ; and grant that I may be a comfort to my friends and a pious
child, so that I may be prepared, when I die, to go to thee, and to
my dear friends who are now in heaven. Grant this for Jesus
Christ's sake.' [En.]
KELIGlOtJS WORSHIP. 305
O my God ! who dost take care of me, and hast mercy
upon me ! thou knowest that I am but a little child, and
very weak ; that I can neither clothe or feed myself; and
that if left to myself, I should be very helpless : but every-
body cares for me, every body loves me. It is thcu, my
God, who hast made others so good to me: reward them,
oh my God, and make me grateful and good. I ask it in
the name of Jesus Christ, thy Son.
O my God ! thy well-beloved Son, Jesus Christ, has
said, ' Suffer the little children to come unto me.' My
God, I am a little child, and I come to thee. Come to
me also, oh my God. Keep me from forgetting that Thou
seest me ; then I shall always feel that Thou lovest, and
takest care of me, and that when I die thou wilt receive
me to thine arms. I ask it in the name of Jesus Christ,
thy Son.*
My God, my God ! when I am very good and my
parents are satisfied with me, I feal then as if I dared to
pray to thee. But, alas ! to-day I have been perverse and
disobedient, and I am ashamed to approach thee. I con-
jure thee, notwithstanding, oh my God, that thou wilt
not cease to love me ! I am always so unhappy after my
faults ! Our good Saviour has obtained pardon for those
who repent I repent, oh my God : pardon me for his
sake!
* We cannot too early associate sweet and religious feelings with
the idea of death. Children of five and six years old, have mani-
fested the greatest consolation in suffering, in the hopes of Chris-
tianity, and in their last hour have felt the approaches of death
without fear. See a notice on the school of Spitalfields by M. Wil-
derspinn. p. 54.
26*
306 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.
Hear me, oh my God ! Thou seest that I am but a lit-
tle child, but they tell me I have been much smaller ; that
I could neither sit, walk, or run, as I do now. I pray
thee, oh my God, who hast been so good to me, be equal-
ly good to all the poor little children, who are as helpless
as I was, and who are not so well taken care of. Com-
fort, oh my God, all who suffer : I ask it in the name of
Jesus Christ, thy Son.
Oh my God, I wish to obey thee, but I am always com-
mitting some fault. I see that if thou dost not help me,
I shall never be good, Help me, then, to keep thy com-
mandments, oh my God ! to love thee with all my heart
and mind, and to love my neighbor as myself. I ask this,
oh my God, in the name of Jesus Christ, thy Son.
Lord, thou hast commanded us to pray for each other.
First, then, I pray for my parents, for my countrymen,
and also for those who are not my countrymen. I pray
thee, oh my God, for those who know thee, and for those
also who know thee not, that they may learn to know
and love thee. I pray also, oh my God, for all the
world.* I invoke thee in the name of Jesus Christ, thy
Son.
Prayer for Sunday.
Oh my God, to-day is Sunday, when every body goes
to church, to pray to thee. I am too little to go there ; but
* This prayer is perhaps not very natural ; for a child left to
liimself, would not think of offering supplications for those who are
unknown to him ; but I wish to show how the mother may make
use of worship, to inspire the child with various good feelings; and,
there are few more necessary to associate with the idea of religion
than toleration.
RELIGIOUS WORSHIP. 307
I may adore thee also, oh my God ! When I go into the
country, I see the bright sun which thou hast made, and
the beautiful earth where there are so many charming
flowers, and pretty birds, and good fruits. I thank thee
for all these things ; and when I have grown large, I will
also go into thy temple, and sing thy praises, and read
thy holy word ; and all my life I will love and endeavor
to obey thee. I ask this, &c.
I will here subjoin two prayers that will serve to give
the child an idea of the offerings he may present to God
at the beginning and end of the day, when he chances to
be left alone.
Morning Prayer.
Oh Lord, I thank thee that thou hast taken care of me
during the night : take care of me also, I pray thee, dur-
ing the day. I will try to remember that thou art always
near me, and then I shall not be afraid of any thing, but
offending thee. Bless, oh my God, my parents, and all
that I love. I ask this, &c.
Evening Prayer.
Oh my God, I will not sleep without having asked thy
blessing. Thou hast been very kind to me to-day, al-
though I have committed many faults. Pardon them, oh
Lord! I will try to be better to-morrow. I shall go to
sleep now, thinking that thou watchest over me during
my slumbers. In the name of thy Son, I pray to thee.
Most of these prayers are vague, but the child ought to
be encouraged to present such as are more minute. If
he expresses the desires of his heart, his offerings, with-
308 RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.
out doubt, will be very puerile ; but of what consequence
is if ? Are there many earthly prayers that are not ? Let
us rejoice that he speaks to God from his inmost soul,
without intruding too much into his little secrets. Tell
him, notwithstanding, that our wishes are very often rash,
and that in expressing them, we should submit them to
His will who desires our happiness. Advise him to ask
the Lord not to listen, if the accomplishment of his desires
would lead to fatal consequences. We shall thereby ac-
custom him to support privations with sweetness ; we shall
prepare him to meet disappointments and misfortunes with
that resignation animated by hope, which is called confi-
dence in God.
Whatever liberty we may allow the child in his more
secret devotions, there is, nevertheless, one prayer that I
would make him learn by heart, as soon as he shall have
acquired any habit of calling upon God. This is the
Lord's Prayer. It may be his faithful companion from
the cradle to the grave. Its comprehensive meaning is
constantly unfolding, and becoming more beautiful and
sublime as we advance in age.
( 309 )
BOOK III RESUMED.
FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY OF THE SOUL IN
INFANCY.
HATING reached the period at which the child, by its
continual progression, will at length complete his moral
existence : and at which a new career opens upon the ob-
server, I will take a hasty survey of what I have already
written. In future, it will become more and more diffi-
cult to analyze the feelings and impressions of the pupiL
Every thing relating to him will be complicated and ob-
scure ; education and example will have their influence ;
natural impulses will be often repressed by the power of
reflection, and secret motives notwithstanding remain in
a degree the same. It is important, then, that we early
observe the dispositions which are destined to be weak-
ened, without ceasing to exist in the soul.
I will not stop to retrace the moral consequences which
clearly flow from observed facts, but will resume the his-
tory of the child from its birth, and although the state of
the soul at this era is but little known, I will expose the
ideas which I think it is impossible to prevent being
formed, whether they are owing to observation, or are the
result of preconceived notions.
310 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY
The soul, a pure* intelligence, comes into this world
to which it is a stranger, and finds itself united to a por-
tion of matter, equally strange, called body. Susceptible
of infinite development, and endowed with the disposi-
tions necessary to enter into relation with the moral and
physical world, it seems destined not to display its activ-
ity, except when tne impressions it receives through the
medium of the body, call its faculties into play, and furnish
materials for their exercise. But as impressions excited
by the senses, are not of a nature to establish all the rela-
tions which the soul is called to support, it has need of
another resource. Consequently, to aid it when it enters
upon its career, an assistance has been prepared, which
we call supernatural ; if an effect of which we cannot
state the cause, may be thus designated. This assistance
which we may call instinct, is not profusely lavished. It
is always given upon indispen -able occasions, but not
when, having in time acquired knowledge from the les-
sons of experience, the soul can do without it.
Thus, in the period soon after its birth, the soul does
not display its attributes. The wondrous machine which
encloses it, is useless to him, because he knows not how
to employ it. An admirable organization seems to have
been calculated in vain to produce these two different ef-
fects, that of informing the soul of what passes outwardly,
and that of executing its orders; the soul does not com-
prehend what is announced by the body, and has not yet
acquired the power to direct it. Enslaved in his double
ignorance, he can only become acquainted with external
objects, by exercising the organs of the sense : and the
properties of these organs can only be revealed by exter-
nal objects.
* The soul.
OF THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 311
The concurrence of the will is not however necessary,
in order that the soul should receive impressions. It feels
pain and pleasure, but the mind remains passive. With
the child, everything is vague and confused; nothing pos-
sesses reality or consistence. The forms which pass and
repass before his eyes, are but as fugitive shadows. The
various noises which he hears, the shocks which he may
receive from solid bodies, are as yet but unconnected events
to him; he experiences changes which he seeks not to
explain. In this state, hunger would be a suffering with
which no idea of alleviation could be associated, and the
new-born child would die of inanition, without knowing
that he wants food, if Heaven had not provided for the
preservation of his existence. Here instinct is needed,
and instinct has been given. The child seeks, and seizes
the maternal bosom; and is quieted, and strengthened.
In the mean time a constant repetition of the same im-
pressions call the faculties of the soul into exercise. Sen-
sations become connected in the mind, and the memory
re-produces them, in the order they were in reality pre-
sented. Thus I have seen a child of twelve days old,
who could not certainly at this age discriminate between
objects, show by indubitable Signs that he comprehended
when he was to receive the breast. He then recollected,
he hoped ; two great faculties, memory and imagination
were excited. The intellectual being was revealed.
The development of the understanding is not apparent-
ly much retarded in infancy by the weakness of the body
since this weakness only affecls such members as perform
the will of the soul, and the soul in the commencement of
its existence, possesses not the power of volition. On the
other hand, the organs of sense, whose vocation it is sim-
ply to inform the soul, fulfil theiroffice almost from birth :
thus the ear and the eye are always bringing in reports,
little comprehended at first, it is true, but nevertheless per-
312 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY
fectly faithful. The progress of the moral and physical
faculties seem, then, so to have been combined, that in pro-
portion as the soul is in a state to command, she finds in
the body an adroit and docile servant.
When once the child is enabled to combine the testimo-
ny of its various senses, his ideas acquire fixedness ; the
external world always appears to him under more distinct
forms ; he fancies himself surrounded by real objects,
and begins to awaken as if from a dream, where every
thing was confused and changing.
The soul, however, that spiritual essence, is not merely
called to enter into relation with the material world, but
its noblest faculties demand another exercise. Another
order of phenomena then hastens to manifest itself in the
new-born infant, which is clearly distinct from the order
of sensible ideas. It is astonishing to see how little know-
ledge is necessary in order to effect the development of
the moral sense. Before the child is able to use his
hands, and, by taking hold of the things which he sees,
is convinced of the reality of their existence, an object
comes forth from the cloud which wraps the universe, and
awakens his tender feelings. This object is an expressive
countenance, a face that smiles upon the child. At this
novel pppearance his soul is impelled towards another
soul ; he has recognized its image, when he hadbeforedis-
tinguished nothing. Thus sympathy becomes manifest,
that astonishing instinct, that wonderful devotion, which
independent of experience, initiates the earliest age in
those mysteries of the heart, which the most mature age
cannot comprehend.
The feeling of expectation which usually produces in
the child a regular succession of sensations, proves that
he has a confused idea of the constancy of the laws which
govern nature. A first event announces a second, and
although it is his imagination only which is in play, his
OF THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 313
present foresight comprehends the source of future rea-
son. The new-born babe soon perceives that he exerts a
power over himself, in his cries, for example, which, al-
though at first involuntary, he now prolongs or suspends
at pleasure; and when he perceives that by moving his
little members, he communicates motion to other objects,
he feels himself to be a cause ; and the great idea of cause
becomes insensibly developed in his mind. At first con-
ceived in the physical economy, this idea is soon trans-
ferred to the moral world. As soon as the child under-
stands that he can act upon his species, he uses them as
instruments ; he persuades, he directs those who cany
him, and his will, although impotent in himself, animates
beings stronger than he. From that time, undefinable
communications exist between him and his protectors.
While he has yet no means of communing with us by
word, he takes advantage of an intelligence of sympathy,
which soon creates a peculiar language. And when
genuine tenderness is joined to this instinct of the heart,
an exchange of feelings is established between the child
and ourselves, which, from their fervor and continual
change, often prove too strong for his frail constitution.
In the mean time, the strength of the child is increasing,
and gives more salutary exercise to his faculties ; more
to be depended upon, and more manageable, they enable
him to perform experiments which are always sources of
pleasure to him. A propensity to imitation, which pro-
ceeds from sympathy, and the love of action suggest to
him a thousand attempts, and various circumstances lead
to new improvements. From this period, most of the in-
clinations of the human soul are successively put into
motion. We see a child of a year old, by turns manifest-
ing self-love, pride, vexation, shame, rancor, and often
generosity, and pity. A stranger to all coherent thoughts,
he is moved by the same desires, tastes, predilections, and
27
314 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY
anticipations which influence us, and which are falsely at-
tributed to reason.
But the greatest object of interest to the observer, is to
see traits formed which characterize the human species,
and assign to it a separate rank in creation. Notwith-
standing the proofs of knowledge which we attribute to
the new-born infant, he is inferior to all animals of the
same age, in a most important point ; and that is, the
power of watching over his own safety. The education
of the organs of sense, although much slower in him, ap-
pears to us more rational, it is true : that is to say, that
we can better explain it by the regular succession of cau-
ses and effects. Whether the shorter life of animals does
not leave sufficient space for the long lessons of experi-
ence ; or, whether an inferior intelligence" requires more
direct aid, it is certain that the wonders of instinct are
from infancy more numerous and striking in animals, than
in man. But through the abasement of the human crea-
ture at his entrance into life, it is curious to see the signs
which ars precursors of his future elevation.
One of these indications of superiority, is the lively and
agreeable impression produced on the soul of the child,
by objects which are entirely foreign to the instinct of
preservation, and corporeal enjoyments those incite-
ments to beings less richly endowed. From the age of
six or seven months, he shows himself capable of admira-
tion ; and brilliancy of colors, as well as harmony of
sounds, cause him transports of joy. Source of the arts,
the pure sentiment of beauty is accorded to the feeble child
who has no idea of utility ; and curiosity, the first germ
of a love of science, is soon displayed in him. These two
noble inclinations have, thus a disinterested origin, which
we too often permit them to contradict.
Scarcely has the second year commenced, than another
prerogative of the human species offers itself to our view.
OF THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 315
At the appearance of striking objects, the child pronounc-
es the name he has heard given to them, and his design
in this novel exercise seems at .first to be only his pleas-
ure. But when he has once discovered the use of lan-
guage ; when he has ascertained that these words, which
he loves to pronounce, are a means of making himself
obeyed, all his faculties are exerted to acquire the pos-
session of this means. His progress in the art of speak-
ing now becomes astonishing; its rapidity would even be
inexplicable, if, in respect to it, the child was not endowed
with faculties far superior to adults, as Al. Itard, a skil-
ful physician, has demonstrated. To study the process
by which he begins to make use of the various parts of
language, is calculated to throw light upon the progress
of his intellectual development.
But whatever sagacity the child displays in the course
of this apprenticeship, we must not be led into error upon
the nature of his mind. It has been believed, because he
makes use of the plural number, and designates animals
and fruits by the names of the species, that he must neces-
sarily conceive abstract ideas ; an opinion which I cannot
adopt. The names of species, as well as other gen-
eral terms, are not, it appears to me, in him the expression
of an abstract idea already conceived. In order that the
child may attach an abstract meaning to these terms, it is
necessary that he should be able to separate ideas, so that
he may discover in one object the qualities, which permit
it to be classed with others similar to it. Now this retro-
grade movement is the effect of a voluntary operation of
the mind, of which the child, at two or three years old,
has no knowledge. If he is not absolutely incapable of
it, he has at least few motives to incite him to this labor
of the mind, and he remains a stranger to reflection.
Without seeking to explain anew, how th?%hild is led
to make use of abstract terms, I will say that we are con-
316 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY
stantly liable to be deceived by supposing, that every thing
passes in the minds of children, in the same manner that
it does in ours. What in us is a train of thought, is in
them but the anticipation of a succession of impressions.
Their imagination transports into the future certain sen-
sations, which they are already acquainted with, and they
judge that such and such objects will procure to them
greater or more prolonged pleasure than certain others.
If they give to these anticipations an appearance of ra-
tionality, it is because the employment of our forms of
speech costs them nothing ; and because with their aston-
ishing facility to imitate us, they can express, in general
terms, the particialar idea, which occupies them.
Apparently, then, the little child forms a judgment,
which is the result of a rapidly made comparison ; but he
is not yet capable of reasoning an operation of the mind
which compares former judgments, and draws a general
conclusion from them. He wants at the same time not
only materials for reasoning, that is to say, facts already
judged, stored up in his memory, but motives sufficiently
pressing to employ the few materials he has collected.
Necessity obliges the man to propose to himself precise
designs, and therefore he must reason, in order to accom-
plish them ; but as the same necessity does not exist for
the child, Avho makes no provision for his own wants, he
has no decided aim to which he attaches any importance.
The passing designs which the child forms, are only oc-
casions to exert his strength. His desire is to act, not to
obtain the result of his activity. His wants of imagina-
tion, which are uncertain and variable as their source,
call his faculties into exercise, without demanding great
efforts of attention.
If the imagination reign sovereign in infancy, it is be-
cause it calftot be otherwise. Previous to the time when
the child begins to speak, his soul is not inactive ; he is
OF THE SOU1. IN INFANCY. 317
animated by various emotions. What is it which then
passes in his mind 1 a variety of scenes undoubtedly : ob-
jects which attract his attention, become painted from na-
ture in his brain, if I may so speak, without being called
forth by the signs or names attached to them ; and the pic-
ture of the past thus being renewed, excites his fears or
hopes. Afterwards when the child begins to speak, this
mental panorama loses nothing of its brightness. Perhaps
we possess it in a degree at every age, and hence the re-
turn of images and remembrances, which sometimes as-
sail us, in the midst of our most reflecting moments : mo-
ments when thoughts, clothed in language, would take
something from the brightness of these mental exhibitions.
The language of the child, which comprises but a few
scattering words, that are uninteresting to him, do not re-
store the images, and consequently the effect is not retain-
ed. New developments add to the strength of his impres-
sions, before the habit of using language has had its influ-
ence, and his mind, by being employed upon its signs, has
a more calm and regular exercise.
If it was the design of the Creator, in respect to man,
that the immortal spirit should receive a strong impulse
from the present life, the means of making him pursue
the most extended course of development, was to place
him in the lowest degree at its beginning. Hence, his
state of privation and ignorance in infancy. But, in order
that the motions of the soul should be voluntary, it would
be necessary that motives to activity should be inwoven
in its nature ; and these Providence has been careful to
form in the new-born infant. As he has prepared sym-
pathy for the heart, so he has furnished the intellect with
the power of vivid imagination. Not having provided
the child with innate knowledge, it is necessary to give
him motives to acquire it. Necessity, which so power-
fully stimulates the faculties of the man, does not possess
27*
318 FACTS RELATIVE TO THE STUDY
this influence over the child, because what he needs is
furnished for him without any effort of his own ; he must
then have useless desires, and the imagination with which
he is endowed, is the- fruitful source of them. Moral and
physical action are necessary to the child's development,
and he loves activity more than contemplation, because
necessity gives to his actions a rational design. When
arrived at an flge to value the result of his efforts, he will
be capable of reflection.
Pre-occupied with considering what is wanting to the
child, we forget the liberality of nature with respect to
him. We do not observe that the order of development,
made necessary by his ignorance, is the one most advan-
tageous to morality, as well as to the progress of his rea-
son. Capable of tender affections, from which the dawn-
ing conscience has received its first impulse, the infant
thereby submits to the influence of education, and soon
becomes susceptible to the love of God, that source of per-
fection in future years. Open to various sensations, he
takes interest in a thousand objects, which, by exciting va-
rying feelings, keep his flexible mind in action. The
pleasure which he takes in imitating us, joined to the ad-
miration of which he becomes more and more susceptible,
fail not to awaken a taste for the arts in its native sim-
plicity. Recitation, music, painting, figures in relief, en-
chant the child, and he is soon an artist himself. By
turns a copyist and an inventor, we see him attempt to re-
alize, in his creations, what he learns and what he imag-
ines. A thousand burlesque or graceful fictions fill up
his days : landscapes and edifices proceed from his feeble
hands, and his plays are those of a young genius.
Thus, our most brilliant attributes are announced in
tender infancy. Grand and daring talents are so humble
and timid at their birth, and preceded by such frivolous
attempts, that we smile with pity. The dispensation
OF THE SOUL IN INFANCY. 319
which renders their development certain, is nevertheless
benevolent. It is happy for us, that imagination is indis-
pensable to infancy. For while the course of civilization
insures the progress of the sciences, properly so called,
and constantly favors the exercise of analysis and reason-
ing, a profusion of gifts apparently more useless, would
be perhaps lost to humanity, if they had not been secured
by the dispositions of childhood. Thus nature is always
provident ; the passing youth of the individual guarantees
the eternal youth of the species ; the riches of the human
mind are preserved entire ; talents are imperishable, and
those which enriched primitive ages, are still influencing
minds at the present period.
But if He who orders nature, has provided for every
variety of mind, and an ever renewed originality in the
human race, by the power of imagination in children,
He has at the same time prepared a source of general
harmony in the sympathy which He has given them.
While their feelings accord but little with those of society,
of which they begin to make a part, we see those incli-
nations languish, which receive no sympathy. Without
losing, then, altogether the prominent traits of his original
character, by degrees the child becomes, in other respects,
the man of his country and his age.
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
OBSERVATIONS UPON AN INFANT, DCRIXG ITS FIRST YEAH.
BY A MOTHER.
WHEN God gives to its mother's arms the little being
for whom she has suffered and hoped, what mothers
only can comprehend, what a crowd of varying emotions
rush upon the soul! gratitude, for continued existence,
and love springing up o greet the new-born spirit, which
is hereafter to share in her weal and woe, and to be the
blessing or curse of her future existence. A perfect child,
or one that is born without any deformity of body, is the
fulfilment of the mother's hopes for this first period fancy
can build on this foundation, the superstructure of future
grace and beauty, genius and goodness. The mother is
ever cheered in her severe cares, by pleasant anticipations ;
or, if experience sometimes suggest fears, yet even then,
' She weaves the song of melancholy joy,' with which hope
inspires her.
' No lingering hour of sorrow shall be thine ;
No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine.'
A young mother, receiving her first-born to her bosom,
experiences a strange and new pleasure, and one that is
scarcely mingled with thoughts that tend to lessen her de-
light.
But very different are the emotions of a mother, who has
seen the cherished of her bosom die, and laid in the grave.
324 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
or who has experienced melancholy changes in life in which
the darlings of her love have been partakers.
She looks upon her new-born infant, conscious of the un-
certainty which shrouds the future: from her we cannot
expect joy, undimmed by the shadows of past sorrows,
which have been faithfully gathered up in the store-house
of memory.
But every mother hopes she hopes that her infant will
live, to comfort and cheer her old age ; to be good, and, it
may be, great. As far as she is enlightened, as to her ma-
ternal duties, and the means of realizing her fond hopes for
her child, almost every mother exerts herself to do. What
a pledge for virtuous conduct is the character of a mother?
though she might trifle with her own reputation, can she
endure the thought of bequeathing infamy to her offspring?
May the time come when every virtuous child may proudly
say, ' Behold my mother ! ' and when every mother may
joyfully say, 'Behold my child!'
The first Three Months.
In giving some of my observations upon my own child,
during its infancy, I would wish it to be understood, that
the little incidents which I may relate, are not introduced
on account of their appearing to myself in any degree ex-
traordinary it is because they are. ordinary, that I men-
tion them ; it is because the little history of my own infant
is the history of every other child, that I attempt to give a
sketch of it.
The philosopher in his attempts to show the nature of
the human mind, must go back to infancy, and from that
period trace the gradual development of the senses, the in-
tellectual faculties, and the emotions. But philosophers
are not mothers, and therefore incapable of comprehending
the language of infancy. Mothers are not philosophers,
and are, therefore, incapable of analyzing and referring to
its true principles the language which nature interprets to
their hearts, rather than to their understandings.
Circumstances had for several years led me to the peru-
sal of works which treat of the human mind; having
THE FIRST THREE MONTHS. 325
studied it in books, I resolved, as far as I was able, to watch
its unfolding in the infant whom Heaven had bestowed
uponme, and for my own satisfaction to make some notes
of these observations. I was confirmed in my resolution
by meeting with Madame de Saussure's work, in which
she urges mothers to keep such notes, for the purpose of
throwing all possible light upon the native faculties of the
soul, and their progressive development.
The task is more difficult than might be apprehended,
since the little actions of an infant seem so natural, that
we can scarcely persuade ourselves to think they are worth
comment. So in the physical world, mankind are prone
to seek an explanation of uncommon phenomena only,
while the ordinary changes of nature, which are in them-
selves equally wonderful, are disregarded. Comets and
earthquakes had occupied the attention of inquirers, long
before any one had ever thought of asking what caused the
falling of a stone, or how warmth was produced by the
burning of cold substances. An infant cries after its moth-
er ; this is natural, the mother believes ; but why is it nat-
ural ? It is because the child is endowed with a mental
faculty, connecting its sensations with the object which
gives rise to them, and which is capable of awakening emo-
tions of affection that cluster around the being whose
sight suggest ideas of kindness, protection, and sympathy.
This faculty is association, which, like the attraction of
gravitation in the planetary system, binds together the
thoughts in a human soul. The mother ought to know
that on the proper direction of this faculty depends the
moral and religious character of her child, and that as soon
as it can distinguish her from strangers, it is, by the opera-
tion of the same principle, capable of receiving impressions
which may prove favorable or unfavorable to its future
well-being. It is this consideration which renders the
mother's office so important, and an attempt to give a prop-
er direction to her efforts, by my own observations, will, I
hope, meet with indulgence, however imperfectly it may be
executed. The remark is often made that all infants seem
28
326 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
much alike at first. This is far from being true ; since we
see some puny and feeble, and others plump and vigorous.
The little boy who was the subject of my observations, ap-
peared at his birth healthy and promising. The first anx-
iety that a mother feels after being certain that her child is
free from any bodily deformity, is to ascertain whether its
senses are perfect. I mean, whether it possess the five
senses allotted to man, which, although the number may
sometimes be deficient, is never exceeded. We are not
able to determine as soon as a child opens its eyes, that
they are formed with the power of vision, since the eye-ball
may externally appear perfect while the retina is incapa-
ble of forming an image of the rays refracted by the differ-
ent lenses of the eye ; or these lenses may be deficient in
the requisite refracting powers and after all, a perfect
image formed upon the retina, may not be conveyed to the
mind, through a defect in the optic-nerve. How ought the
mother to praise the goodness of God, whose providence
takes cognizance of such an infinite variety of parts in the
complicated machinery of the human frame, and sets the
seal of perfection upon the whole ! ' And God saw his
work that it was good.'
The first object on which I noticed my infant to fix his
eyes steadily, was the black latch of a white painted door,
which as the door swung open, was brought near to him.
A smile animated his countenance at the same instant. I
was touched and surprised at this incident. The first smile
of her infant must ever cause a thrill in a mother's heart.
Why this particular object should have attracted the at-
tention of my child, I could not comprehend, and what
emotion should have produced the smile, appeared still
more incomprehensible. I thought much upon it at the
time, and spoke of it to some members of the family. The
contrast in color between the white door and the black
latch, probably engaged its attention. There might have
been a feeling of pleasure connected with this new exercise
of his power of vision. He was then about two weeks
old. When I say the smile which I observed was his first,
THE FIRST THREE MONTHS. 327
I mean the first roluntary one for the smiling which is
produced by tickling, and playing with the mouth, is mere-
ly spasmodic, and does not indicate emotion.
During its first month, my child required no medicine,
except once or twice a little magnesia was given for a
slight affection of the bowels, and catnip tea as an anodyne,
when it occasionally appeared restless. Once when this
failed of quieting it, three or four drops of laudanum were
administered ; this having been recommended in preference
to paregoric, on the ground that the sedative properties of
the opiate had a better effect when unaccompanied with
articles of a heating nature. In the early part of every
pleasant day after the child was a week old, it was carried
into the open air, for a short time, the period of keeping it
abroad being gradually lengthened. It was thoroughly
washed every day with tepid water; cold water, is, I know
ecommended ; but it seems a harsh and dangerous experi-
ment.
The cap was soon laid aside. I believe physicians are
generally agreed that it is better for a child to have its head
uncovered, that it may receive a free access of air, which
tends to keep the pores of the skin in a healthy state, and
thus promotes the growth of the hair.
The hours for sleeping, and the periods for taking nour-
ishment were made as regular as possible ; but in the case
of a young infant, it is not, in my opinion, practicable to
bring its physical habits into a state of perfect regularity.
We ought to have our rules, however, and keep to them as
closely as may be.
M. Jullien, in his excellent ' Plan of Practical Education,'
recommends the following arrangement as suited to the
physical nature of a child during the first year:
' Fifteen hours of sleep in the cradle or upon the bed. Six
hours at the breast. Three hours in the open air, in the arms
of the nurse, or lying upon a mattress, where he can amuse
self and move about, thus gaining muscular strength by
the free exercise of his limbs.' It is the opinion of M.
Jullien, as well as that of other profound thinkers and close
328 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
observers, that not only is the bodily health of an infant, in
a great degree dependent on that of the mother, but that
with the nourishment he imbibes from her, is conveyed in-
to his soul some portion of the moral qualities, whether
good or evil, which predominate in her character.
As it is my object, chiefly to remark upon the moral ten-
dencies of the child, I shall not dwell upon the various mi-
nute details connected with its physical education. But I
hope the time is not far distant when some judicious moth-
er will have the moral courage to give to the less experi-
enced of her sex, not only directions upon this subject, but
the result of her observations through that anxious and del-
icate period when they so much feel the need of a maternal
adviser.*
But I return to the little subject of my notes. It had
now advanced to the age of six weeks, under favorable cir-
cumstances, exhibiting as far as its infant character was
developed, traits of an amiable and mild disposition, and
an excellent constitution of body. At this period it became
important that I should spend a few weeks in a place about
seventy miles distant. I was aware that my child was
quite too young to bear the fatigue of such a journey, but
thought it might be rendered eomfortable, by slow travel-
ling in an easy carriage. For several miles during the first
day we proceeded very comfortably, but asAve advanced to
a mountain road, which was yet new and very soft, the
motion of the carriage became irregular on account of the
frequent plunging of the horses into the quagmires which
began to be abundant. To add to our trials, a heavy rain
set in, whilst we were several miles distant from any kind
* I have heard a work highly spoken of, which was published
some years since under the title of the ' Maternal Physician,' but is
now out of print. The author, the widow of the Hon. Royal Ty-
ler, possesses two important requisites for such a work, practical
experience, and habits of close observation. It is to be hoped that
she will feel it her duty to give to the public a second and enlarged
edition of her valuable and much needed book.
THE FIRST THREE MONTHS. 329
of habitation. The carriage being light, the rain was not
immediately annoying, but bad as it had been before, soon
began to become much worse. There was no retreating;
the horses now plunged deep in the mud at every step,
moving the carriage only by a succession of violent jerks.
These tedious enough to stronger nerves, became very
painful to the infant, accustomed only to the most gentle
exercise. He screamed in agony at every step, and when
the motion ceased for a moment, appeared exhausted with
fatigue. I was not without the horrible fear that he might
die in my arms before we could reach a resting-place. At
length having been six hours in travelling as many miles,
we reached the house upon the mountain table-land, which
had just been erected for the purposes of an inn. I was
conducted with my nurse and infant into a rude apartment,
separated from the bar-room by a partition of rough boards,
and having a floor of the same material. The bar-room
was filled with teamsters, pedlers. and other luckless wights
who had become members of the household for the night.
In addition to coarse and disagreeable language, wreaths of
tobacco-smoke, accompanied by the usual odors of such a
place, found their way from the adjoining room, through
the large interstices in the open partition. These openings
also served to gratify the curiosity of the bar-room compa-
ny, with respect to the new guests, thus honored with a seat
in the parlor; and many a dark visage from time to time was
seen peering at us with looks of mingled impudence and
inquisitiveness. But I felt that what I had to do was to
attend to my infant, who seemed sadly fatigued by the day's
labor. On that occasion I thought proper to administer a
large anodyne draught, as the best means of quieting his
disturbed nerves. The landlady, a kind-hearted woman,
pitied me and the poor baby very much, and for my consola-
tion told me ' that one woman had a young child so much
injured by riding with it over the mountain-road, that it
was always weakly, and did not have its senses like other
children.' When I retired to bed with my infant, a sor-
rowful night's lodging presented itself. My chamber was
28*
330 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
indeed covered by a boarded roof, but so imperfectly joined
that the rain which then poured down in torrents found va-
rious passages through it, and my bed, Avhich was placed in
the driest corner of the room, was still exposed to its drip-
pings. It Avas not easy to quiet my child ; for an hour or
more it continued to scream at intervals corresponding to
those which had elapsed between the jerkings of the car-
riage. The reflected sensations seemed to produce upon
him the same effect as the original ones. After ve have
been travelling for some time in a steam-boat or sailing in
a vessel, Ave feel the poAver of this reflection of sensations,
and all our reason can scarcely convince us we are not ac-
tually exposed to those agitations which are thus reacting
upon the nervous system. The human frame in this re-
spect is like a stone, which, having rolled doAvn a hill, still
continues to move from the impulse it had receiA'ed.
In spite of the dreariness of my situation, my anxiety for
my child, and the drops of rain Avhich noAv and then de-
scendedupon my face, I at length fell into a quiet slumber;
the child had become quiet; but even in sleep, as if memory
was busy in recalling the troubles of the day, he would
start and sob deeply. Towards day the storm ceased, the
full moon shone forth, accompanied by her retinue of stars;
and I then perceived, that although the frail tenement of
Avhich 1 was an inmate had an apology for a roof, it had
not even that for a ceiling ; for looking, as I lay in my bed,
above the blanket which was stretched at its foot to divide
my apartment from that of other way-faring people, I per-
ceived that the opposite side of the house was open, and I
had the picturesque view of the towering pines, firs, and
hemlocks, Avhich rose above me clothing the mountain-side
with a dark and frowning forest. Six weeks before I
lodged in that house, as I Avas aftenvards informed, the
boards of which it was put together were alive, and in the
form of tall trees, responding to the murmurs of the forest
winds.
I Avill conclude this history of my child's first journey,
by remarking that the remainder was performed very com-
THE FIRST THREE MONTHS. 331
fortably. and through the mercies of a kind Providence no
permanent injury- was sustained by the infant. But it was
a hazardous undertaking, and necessity only can justify the
exposure of so young a child, even to the common fatigues
of travelling. Home is the place for infants habit with
them is every thing. They must have their usual sleep
and food, at the usual periods, or they are disturbed, and
become fretful. But when one is abroad with a child, it is
often impossible to be regular in these things. People
think it a compliment to wish to see the baby the nurse
must then wake it if asleep, and perhaps dress it for the oc-
casion. This dressing and undressing of infants is injuri-
ous to their tempers as well as health. Grown people often
become less amiable in their dispositions when they meet
with many vexations; how then can we expect the little
babe, who is worried and fretted by being thus teazed. will
not receive a permanent bias in its temper. It is natural
that the mother should feel a pride in showing a beautiful
child ; and dress at no period of life sets off the person
more than in childhood ; but it is a foolish and wicked van-
ity to go to such an excess in this as we often see. For
the sake of exhibiting babies in state, many women incur
the hazard of being the mothers of inferior men and wo-
men.
When my child was three months old, I returned with
him to my home. A very great change had taken place in
him during the last few weeks. When he rode at the age
of six weeks he did not appear to notice the horses which
drew the carriage: it is probable that he had not then learn-
ed to adopt his visual organs to objects at that distance ; he
seemed almost unconscious of external things, except as
they acted in immediate contact with his sentient organs,
and then he showed a very delicate sensibility, as in the
case of the motion of the carriage. Now he had begun to
feel himself a thing separate from the objects around him.
He noticed the horses, observed the whip, and seemed
pleased to see it used. He liked to go from mother to
nurse, and from nurse to mother : he knew how to distin-
332 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
guish them. What an astonishing unfolding of faculties
in six weeks ! greater probably than is experienced by a
child in any subsequent period of the same length.
The Infant at Six Months.
Before the age of six months children begin to shrink
from strangers the passion ofyearhas commenced its de-
velopment. The helpless beings have learned their own
feebleness and need of protection, and they cling to those
of whose kindness they feel assured. They seem also to
have their likes and dislikes, and thus show that the germs
of intellectual taste are beginning to unfold. It is import-
ant, when they seem afraid of any person or thing, that they
should be made familiar with the object, that this fear may
be conquered. A coward, whether man or woman, can
never be useful or happy ; and therefore it is very important
that the passion which produces it should be early check-
ed; for if not, it grows rapidly, and when once it becomes
rank in the soul, neither philosophy nor religion, in after
life, can wholly eradicate it. Two ladies, who one day
called tosee me, inquired for the baby. The nurse brought
him in, and the elder lady, a hard-featured and very plain
woman, attempted to take him. The child looking her full
in the face, drew back, and began to cry, as if terrified. I
took him in my arms and soothed him ; in a little while the
other person, a young and pretty girl offered to take him ;
the elder lady said, 'he is afraid of strangers ;' but the child,
surveying the countenance of the young lady, stretched out
his arms in assent to her request, and seemed quite delight-
ed with her attention. I was careful to make him acquaint-
ed with the other lady, and thus to conquer the feeling
which he had at first manifested towards her.
Children feel an interest in each other when very young.
I had opportunities of witnessing several striking illustra-
tions of this fact, before my little boy was five months old.
He was at a certain time carried into a room where was a
poor sickly babe, of nearly his own age. It lay asleep in
THE FIRST SIX MONTHS. 333
its mother's lap, breathing hard and irregularly, and agita-
ted by convulsive spasms, while upon its pallid brow, hung
a cold and clammy sweat. Its limbs had none of the round-
ness of form, seen in a healthy child, but the skin hung
like a loose flabby covering over them. The mother inform-
ed me that the babe had been very sick ; it was now recov-
ering, but she was obliged, in order to keep it quiet, to ad-
minister large portions of laudanum; thirty and forty drops
several times in a day. besides paregoric by the spoonful.
I could not but feel that she was pursuing a very bad
course. She was young and seemed inexperienced, and I
ventured to remonstrate, by exposing the great danger to
the mental faculties as well as to the constitution, which
must attend such a mode of treatment.
My own child presented a very striking contrast to the
sickly babe. He was strong, plump and vigorous ; every
thing about him indicated health. He had been nourished
by the food provided by nature, and drugs of all kinds had
been carefully avoided. I was far from ascribing entirely
to a different mode of management, the difference in the
appearance of the two children.
With a sick child, the mother must yield to a physician,
and medicines may be necessary to overcome diseases.
The experiment of education mu?t here fail ; or it must be
suspended, until, with returning health, nature shall have
asserted her own rights, and become powerful enough to
act without those auxiliaries, which, though called in to
her assistance, are very prone to usurp her place.
My little boy looked steadily, and with a serious expres-
sion upon the sickly baby, as it lay asleep. At length it
awoke, though not in a natural manner as a healthy child
awakes from sleep, but with convulsive efforts, as if nature
had struggled to throw off the chains with which she had
been bound by the soporific drug. When the babe was
fully awake, and the mother had raised it up, its counte-
nance became animated ; the ray of intelligence which
beamed from it, showed that disease had not prevented
the soul from pursuing her work of development even under
334 A' MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
circumstances so unfavorable. The two babies now looked
in each other's faces ; the healthy one no sooner saw the
other open its eyes and begin to move, than he became an-
imated, and with an expression of joy stretched out his
hands to take hold of it. The other babe made no attempts
to ascertain by the evidence of touch, whether the object
before it was a creation of its own mind, or external to it-
self. The improvement made in the use of its senses had
been retarded by disease. Its look was confused like that
of a younger infant; it had evidently not yet learned to
adapt its organs of sight to different distances, like healthy
children of the same age; and when a solid body was put
into its hands, the muscles seemed too languid to grasp it.
Thus the sense of touch had been little practised, for want
of physical strength. The sense of taste must exist in an
unnatural perverted state in a child who from its birth is
accustomed to drugs. The one I have been describing, as
it slept, was sucking a sugar-rag,* to which its mother had
so long accustomed it, that it could now scarcely be dis-
pensed with. This had helped to disorder its taste, as well
as the tone of its stomach.
At six months old, my child had passed through the va-
rious stages of lying in his cradle, and amusing himself in
playing with his hands, or gazing on different objects,
kicking and rolling over on a mattrass, or the carpet ; and
next, of being supported by pillows either in the cradle or
fastened into a chair. Now he could sit alone; he had
learned to pick up his rattle when it fell, and to amuse him-
self with other playthings. He also took an interest in the
movements of those about him, and the power of observa-
tion become more strikingly manifest. He began to show
that faculty of the mind, which, whether we designate it by
* I give the term which I have usually heard applied, an inven-
tion for the purpose of keeping a child still. Sugar with a little
bread or pounded cracker, is tied up in a bit of linen, and this is
kept into the child's mouth sleeping or waking ; nothing could be
worse for creating disease in the stomach and bowels of an infant.
THE FIRST SIX MONTHS. 335
the term desire, with some metaphysicians, or by that of
the -will, with others, is of little importance, since its man-
agement is not to he affected by the name we bestow.
We may say that children soon show a strong desire to
gratify their irill, or they Kill to gratify their desire; and
this easy substitution of the one term for the other seems
to prove, that men have sometimes busied themselves in
making a distinction without a difference.
Without seeing, myself, the necessity of admitting the
existence of a power called will as distinct from desire, I
shall use the former term as being more convenient, and
more according to common parlance ; though the latter cir-
cumstance no more proves the point in dispute, than, the
common expression, the sun rises, and the sun sets, actual-
ly proves that that body moves round the earth.
The desires in a young infant are feeble ; it requires a
tedious process of observations before it learns to associate
with its desires the idea of the objects which serve to their
gratification. It would cry with hunger, as it would with
any other pain, long before it could know that food would
relieve it. Of course it did not desire food. But when it
has learned to connect the idea of nourishment with the
physical want, and has also associated with this the idea
of the being from whom he receives it, he then when hun-
gry cries to go to his mother. As soon as the demands of
nature are satisfied, the babe is often willing to go from her
to others. When the child is old enough to look about,
and enjoy the sight of natural objects, the grass, trees, ani-
mals, and the various sounds of animated creation, he feels
a new and strong delight; he desires or wills a continua-
tion of this enjoyment, and when forced within doors, strug-
gles and cries.
The appearance of the will in children, may be dated
from the time when observation has taught them that cer-
tain things are desirable. This era, which some parents
think should be marked by whipping in a sufficient degree
to make the child passive in his desires, or in other words,
' to break his will, 1 is certainly an important one. It is
336 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
now necessary to begin to teach the child obedience. For
instance, a babe at six months old cries when its mother
gives it into the arms of another person ; now the child
ought not to be whipped for this, neither ought the mother
to take it directly back ; but it should be diverted from its
purpose by presenting some object which will interest it.
The first time that my little boy cried on my going from
the house was at the age of six months. He had often seen me
go out with my hat on, but he had never before appeared to
connect with this the idea of absence ; this day I noticed that
he looked attentively at my bonnet and cloak, and as soon
as I opened the door, he began to utter mournful cries.
I did not return, because it was necessary that he should
become accustomed to my going out at times; but, simple
as the affair might have seemed to an indifferent person, it
affected my spirits, and even in the house of God, my
thoughts would involuntarily turn upon the future trials,
that probably awaited this little human being, from the in-
fluence of that emotion which for the first time had caused
sorrow to his heart.
The Child at Nine Months.
We have now advanced to the period when the infant
seems, in laying aside some of its helplessness, to have as-
sumed a character of its own. There is a vast difference
at this age between children who have been properly man-
aged, and those who have not. The former can amuse
themselves a great deal ; they have learned to know that
their desires are not always to be gratified ; and as they
have never gained any thing by crying, they seldom cry,
except when ill, uncomfortable, or wearied by being long
confined to one situation, which becomes absolutely pain-
ful. Their good-nature should never be imposed on. The
way to keep children pleasant, is to make them comfortable
and happy ; and this can only be done, by attention to them :
at the same time, too much attention spoils all, by giving the
child an idea that every thing must give way to his desires.
THE CHILD AT NINE MONTHS. 337
Soon after the infant is able to sit alone, he begins to
make some attempts to move after a while it pulls itself
up by a chair, and at length is able to stand, by grasping
some support with the hands.
At eight months old, my child had become strong enough
to bear his Weight in this manner. While I was about
procuring a standing-stool to favor this new attempt of na-
ture, it happened that a pine box of a foot and a half square
was brought into the nursery ; and it occurred to me that
this might answer my purpose, as well as an article
made for the occasion. After putting a bit of carpet over
the bottom, the little boy was placed in it. He was highly
pleased with his promotion, and soon learned to move his
position from one side of the box to another. When tired
with standing, he sat down and amused himself with play-
things ; sometimes he was indulged with an apple of which
he was very fond, and which often prevented the necessity
of giving aperient medicines. There was some danger that
in his fondness for bon bons, and the number of his kind
friends, he would acquire a habit of gormandizing, espe-
cially as in the progress of dentition, he was continually
seeking for something to bite. I endeavored to prevent, as
far as possible, too much indulgence in eatables cake,
unless plain, dough-nuts or gingerbread, I did not permit
him to have ; a crust of bread is probably better than either.
A piece of ivory, silver, or some hard substance, should be
given to children when teething. The wooden box, which
did so good service at first, was laid aside within a few
weeks, as a catastrophe, which had been feared, at length
actually took place. This was the turning over of the box
by the little Sampson within, who had, for some time, been
exercising himself in throwing his weight suddenly on one
side, and at length succeeded in the experiment*
We have now arrived to the creeping age. I had thought
I should not suffer him to learn to creep ; but after some
conversation with physicians, and consulting my own rea-
son concluded to let nature have her own way, and to run
the risk of having the child get his clothes soiled for the
29
338 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
advantage of giving a more expanded chest, a stronger back,
and finer-shaped shoulders.
Before he began to creep, he was for some months al-
lowed to pass considerable time in the kitchen. The nurs-
ery, after a few of the first months, became a dull place to
him; he seemed to have taken a dislike to it. The kitch-
en was more lively, and he found much amusement in
watching the different operations, of pounding, grinding,
chopping, running to and fro, and all the bustle of culinary
operations all seemed to him a sort of pantomime got up
for his amusement ; in which opinion he was strengthened
by the glances of the domestics, who failed not frequently
to smile upon their little favorite. Yet, unless a child is
carefully watched, a kitchen is an unsafe place, and in a
large family, where there are other children to amuse the
baby, it can have variety enough elsewhere. Some moth-
ers are surprised that those whose circumstances oblige
them to labor, are able to do so much besides taking care of
their young children the secret is, that the woman who
labors, amuses her child by her various household occupa-
tions, which she manages to perform as much as possible,
within its sight that is, she diverts her cliild with her
work, while the nurse or mother who spends all her time
in tending the baby, works to divert it. And the evil here
is not only the loss of time in the ' pat-a-cake,' 'ride-the-
Jack-horse,' ' high-diddle-diddle,' &c. of the nursery; but the
child becomes selfish and imperious, by seeing that he is
always an object of attention.
I took much pains to teach my child patience and self-
denial, and never allowed him to be indulged because he
cried for a thing. The effect of this management was ap-
parent in the readiness with which he yielded to the wishes
of others, and the ease with which he accommodated him-
self to circumstances. I preferred that he should be ac-
customed to be taken care of occasionally by different per-
sons, in order to inure him to change. There should, how-
ever, be one person who feels a constant care over a young
child, in order that the state of its health and physical hab-
THE CHILD AT NINE MONTHS. 339
its may be observed and regulated ; this should be the
mother, or a faithful nurse.
I was much pleased to study the effects of different coun-
tenances upon the mind of my child. With grave and
serious people he looked serious ; with children he was
playful; and with two little girls who occasionally came to
see him, he seemed always delighted.
He seemed much perplexed when his aunt, between
whom and his mother there is said to exist a strong resem-
blance, came on a visit. When she first took him in her
arms he looked very earnestly at her, and then at me. He
had beeu accustomed to see two images of me, when I had
stood with him before the glass ; but this was a different
affair ; he saw it was no illusion, for he could touch it, and
he heard it speak ; he perceived this without being able to
comprehend the matter ; sometimes he looked grave, and
then laughed as if at his own perplexity. But he soon
fixed upon some distinguishing marks in our dresses or
tones of voice, by which he recognized the real mother.
Here were the faculties of comparison and abstraction ex-
hibited.
Strong excitements have an unfavorable effect upon the
nerves of young children. We know this to be the case
with ourselves, but are apt to forget that things which
are common to us, may be new and striking to them. My
child was on a certain evening carried into a large room
brilliantly lighted, and filled with company. He gazed
around with an expression of admiration and delight not
unmixed with perplexity ; the latter, however, soon vanish-
ed, and he laughed and shouted with great glee ; and as he
saw that he was observed, exerted himself still farther to
be amusing. He was then carried into a room where was
music and dancing ; this was entirely new, and he was agi-
tated with a variety of emotions ; fear, wonder, admiration
and joy seemed to prevail by turns. As the scene became
familiar, he again enjoyed it without any mixture of unpleas-
ant feelings.
But the effect of these excitements was apparent, when
340 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
he was taken to his bed-room ; his face was flushed, as in a
fever, his nervous system disturbed, and his sleep was in-
terrupted by screams. He had witnessed scenes as new
and almost as strange, as to us would be the apparition of
a dance of fairies by moonlight. His imagination had
made a powerful effort to grasp and comprehend what his
senses had discovered. He knew not who or what were
the beings and the sounds which had thus appeared in pla-
ces, usually so quiet; and the strange motions of thesebe-
ings, must also have greatly increased the wonder.
The Child from Nine to Twelve Months.
Every thing in this world is progressive the infant
does not in a day become a man, nor does vigorous man-
hood sink a^ once into old age. The progress of decay is,
however, in most cases more rapid than that of growth.
The infant cannot be seen to have altered from one day
to another, though from week to week we think we can
see a progression. Months present striking differences,
and three months often seem to show him almost a new
being.
It was during the period respecting which I am now to
make some observations, that I begun to have the child
occasionally present at family prayers. At first, as the
different members of the family entered the room and took
their seats, he looked with an eye of curiosity, especially
at his old friends the domestics, whom he was not accus-
tomed to see seated in the places they now occupied. Each
person in turn read portions of the Scripture, and the baby
soon began an imitation of the reading. This scene, how-
ever, soon became familiar and tiresome, especially as no
one appeared to notice his performance. When the singing
commenced, he was again interested, and, modulating his
voice to the best ofhis ability, he sung too looking grave,
as he saw others did. During the prayer which followed,
he again changed his tones of voice, in imitation of the
sound he heard. When he grew weary of confinement, by
THE CHILD FROM NINE TO TWELVE MONTHS. 341
giving him something to hold in his hand, he was quiet
until the close of the exercises. The presence of the baby,
at first, might have diverted in some measure the attention
of the younger members of the family, but it soon became
familiar, and occasioned no disturbance.
I thought it important that the child should thus, from in-
fancy, become accustomed to religious exercises. He did
not indeed comprehend the import of the scene, the grave
demeanor, the solemn music, and the subdued accents of
prayer ; but they made their impression upon his mind as
well as his senses.
Outward expressions act upon the soul, as the affections
of the soul produce external acts, and therefore it is that
the tones, gestures, and expressions of countenance with
which a child is conversant, have an important influence
in the modification of its character. Accustomed to wit-
ness well-conducted family devotion, a feeling of awe
and solemnity will become familiar, and when he is
old enough to render an explanation proper, the idea of an
invisible Creator and Benefactor, who is the object of this
worship, will appear a natural and reasonable solution of
the inquiry which will rise in his mind.
Curiosity begins to show itself very active in the child
of ten months. My little boy sat by my side one day, play-
ing with a box of wafers. He had already learned by ob-
servation, and memory recalled the fact, that there were
sometimes things contained within such articles ; he shook
the box, and holding it to his ear listened to the sound as if
to inform himself whether he might expect to find any
thing within. Having satisfied himself on this point, he
next went to work with great resolution to open the box,
and at length succeeded in pulling out the bottom. His
efforts were rewarded by a sight which made him utter
cries of joy. Hundreds of bright round pieces fell about in
glorious confusion. He had conquered a difficulty and had
made a discovery. No botanist on finding a new plant,
mineralogist at the sight of a rare specimen, or mathema-
tician on the solution of a difficult problem, could feel
29*
342 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
greater pleasure than was now apparent in this little minia-
ture man, at the sight of the broken box and scattered wa-
fers. The same curiosity or love of knowledge, leads us
on from one difficulty to another in science ; and should we
ever reach a point beyond which there could be no discov-
eries, like Alexander, we should weep that there was noth-
ing more to be conquered.
I was interested in observing the child's perplexity with
respect to the effects of heat. In one of my apartments was
a stove with doors, which had brass handles. He had by
painful experience learned enough of the properties of fire
to become cautious about exposing himself to it ; and he
knew that the iron stove was hot when there was fire with-
in but he had, by a series of observations, proved also that
the brass handles and balls did not become hot like the
iron. When there was not a large fire he could handle them
with impunity ; though even then he not unfrequently burnt
his fingers in suffering them to venture upon the confines of
danger. But he seldom cried when this happened during
the course of his experiments upon the capacity of metals
for caloric; he seemed to understand that it was at his own
risk. Sometimes the stove contained fire enough to heat
the handles of the door, without heating the balls; this was
a matter of surprise to our young philosopher. And then
again when the doors of the stove were open the iron part
was cold. Before venturing to touch this, he would care-
fully examine the brass handles, and if they were cold, he
at first lightly touched the other part, until gaining confi-
dence, he seemed to feel great delight in taking firm hold
of the formidable iron. I suffered him to make these trials
even at the expense of a trifling hurt ; (I always watched
that it should be nothing more,) I wanted he should learn
by his own experience to be careful ; and yet even experi-
ence he found to be fallacious, since the metal that was hot
yesterday was cold to-day.
Optics is a favorite study of little children, and its vari-
ous phenomena excite in them much wonder. As soon as
a child has learned to distinguish persons distinctly, he
THE CHILD FROM NINE TO TWELVE MONTHS. 343
will notice his own features in a mirror; but at first he does
not think of it as connected with himself. He looks at it
as he would at another child, he laughs, and the image
laughs ; he stretches out his hands, and the image does the
same at length he begins to comprehend the fact that his
own motions are reflected ; and he gesticulates as if for the
purpose of seeing the effect in the mirror. From the image
of his mother when she holds him before the glass, he turns
to look at her person, thus showing that he knows the one
to be an illusion. The polished andirons, reflecting on ev-
ery side a miniature picture of himself, as he stands before
them, afford an interesting subject for speculation ; as he
advances, the image becomes larger ; he holds out his hand
near the convex surface, and it looks larger than his whole
body at a little distance. And when an andiron consists
of parts in which the continuity of the convex surface is
broken, he sees the images multiplied. Let any person ob-
serve an intelligent child of ten months, or a year old, and
they will be struck with the extent of their observations,
and apparent interest in things, which many grown per-
sons never think of inquiring into, because they are accus-
tomed to them. Shadows are among the optical phenom-
ena which engage the attention of children. They ought
to be made to understand that they are mere illusions.
This can easily be done by showing them that their shad-
ow on the wall is made by themselves ; that when they
raise their hands, it produces a correspondent motion in
the shadow, and when they run, the shadow runs. If a
child is amused with seeing the rabbit on the wall open
and shut its mouth, dart forward and then back, he should
not be left with the impression that there was some real
and mysterious being who thus appeared and disappeared ;
but by directing his attention to the hand and the motion
of the fingers, he is let into the secret, and ready to laugh
at the joke, instead of being left in that excited state of
mind which makes him feel terrified at every unusual sight
or sound.
Animals are regarded by very young children with great
interest. The cat, the most domestic of all animals,
344 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
much as she has been traduced for the purpose of enhanc-
ing the value of her persecuting enemy, the dog, is usu-
ally kind to the baby. She suffers it to pull her by the
ears, and the tail, and to pinch and choakher, with little re-
sistance. There is something wonderful in this; for let
another offer but a small portion of the indignity which
puss will patiently receive from a child, she shows at once
her resentment. But she may often be seen to go volunta-
rily and lay herself down by the side of her little torment-
or, and to begin her gentle purring, as if to show her own
good will to them. The sight of her always seems to ex-
cite pleasant feelings in the child, (for his injuries are not
done with malice prepense,) and tat, tat,is among the first
accents he is heard to utter. Some kittens being brought
to my little boy, he contemplated them with much interest,
but woe to the luckless creatures when they fell within the
grasp of the little Hercules. Much as the child enjoyed
his rough play with the kittens, I thought it wrong to in-
dulge him in it, not only from pity to the animals, but be-
cause there Avas danger that he might acquire a habit of
cruelty, even before he was capable of comprehending its
nature.
One day, when the little boy was about eleven months
old, I took him into a yard where a flock of turkeys were
feeding. He eyed them with much satisfaction, until the
cock-turkey, attracted by the child's scarlet frock came
strutting up towards him, rustling his feathers with great
force, and crying, gobble, gobble, as if in defiance. The
little boy beheld the monster with mingled terror and admi-
ration, drew himself closer to me, and looked in my face
apparently to discover how I was affected at the strange
sight. When I had driven Mr. Gobbler back, and the child
saw that he was afraid to advance, he gathered courage
and was disposed to pursue him. The recollection of this
event was very lively in his mind for some time after, and
when the turkey's gobble was repeated, the whole scene
seemed to rise before him. It was to him, no doubt, the re-
membrance of a great victory.
THE CHILD FROM NINE TO TWELVE MONTHS. 345
Before eleven months, he began to show himself pleased
with pictures, would point to small figures of men and ani-
mals, and turn over the leaves of a book as if to search for
them. For the purpose of seeing how far he could com-
prehend, I made with a pen and ink, upon a piece of
white paper, a circle of about an inch in diameter, and
placed two dots for the eyes, a line for the nose, and anoth-
er large one for the mouth. H? had watched me while
the delineation was going on, and when it was finished,
looking at the grotesque figure, he laughed with great mer-
riment, pointed to the spots for eyes, and the line for the
mouth, as if he fully understood what they were intended
to represent. According to an idea of Madame de Saus-
sure,his i magination supplied what was wanting in the pic-
ture, and this exercise made the rude sketch more agreeable
to him than the most perfect imitation.
The expression of the emotions of young children, when
first viewing the grand scenery of nature, affords a rich
treat to the penetrating observer. At eight months old, my
child, on being carried to the door during a fall of snow,
contemplated the scene with an appearance of deep atten-
tion. He had learned enough of the use of his eyes to form
some conception of the expanse before him, and to perceive
how different it was from the narrow confines of the apart-
ments of the house. The falling snow, with its brilliant
whiteness, and easy downward motion was strange and
beautiful ; and when he felt it lighting upon his face and
hands, he held up his open mouth, as if he would test its
nature by a third sense.
A few weeks after this, he was taken, on a bright winter's
day, to ride in a sleigh. The sleigh-bells, the horses, the
companions of his ride, the trees and shrubs loaded with
their brilliant icy gems, the houses, and the people whom
we passed, all by turns received his attention. If he could
have described what he saw, as it appeared to him. and the
various emotions caused by these objects, the description
would have added a new page in the philosophy of mind.
How often the beauties of nature are unheeded by man,
346 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
who, musing on past ills, brooding over the possible calam-
ities of the future, building castles in the air, or wrapped up
in his own self-love and self-importance, forgets to look
abroad, or looks with a vacant stare. His outward senses
are sealed, while a fermenting process may be going on in
the passions within. But if, with a clear conscience, a love
of nature, and a quick sense of the beautiful and sublime,
we do contemplate the glorious objects so profusely scat-
tered around us by a bountiful Creator, with the interesting
changes which are constantly varying the aspect of these
objects, still our emotions have become deadened by habit.
We do not admire what is familiar to us, and therefore it
is, that we must be ever ignorant of the true native sympa-
thy between our own hearts and the external world.
The first fine day of spring, I carried my little boy into
the open air. His senses were all awake, and when he
felt the warm sun-shine, and saw the brightness which
glowed in all directions around him, he was glad. As Mrs.
Barbauld says, 'he was glad to be alive.' He looked up-
wards to the tall trees, and the glorious sun whose morn-
ing beams played among their branches ; he surveyed the
arched canopy of heaven, and then his ear caught the song
of a bird who was building her nest on a spray at a little
distance. Was there not poetry to his soul in all this?
But before the child has acquired language in which to con-
vey his impressions to the minds of others, these impres-
sions have lost much of their vividness.
Every year by rendering us more familiar with nature,
robs it of something of its poetry. Even in youth, we have
lost much of the liveliness of the feeling of childhood ; ma-
turer years rob us of the enthusiasm of youth ; and in old
age, the emotions that once constituted the charms of exist-
ence, are scarcely remembered. But then our Maker de-
signs that to these, shall succeed a new set of feelings, not
indeed suggested by aught that 'eye hath seen, or ear
heard,' but founded upon those invisible realities which are
revealed by faith, to the soul of the Christian.
In the infant we have been observing the physical devel-
opment in some respects had been more rapid than ordina-
THE CHILD FROM NINE TO TWELVE MONTHS. 347
ry. Before eleven months it had learned to walk. This is
younger than is desirable, since a child is at this age more
liable to fall, than when it has more judgment to balance
itself. His attempts at language were imperfect, and his
Tocabulary consisted of a few words, and an imitation of
the cries of some animals. The senses had served their
'apprenticeship' so far very faithfully. No child could ar-
rive to this period with less of indisposition ; yet it had
been left to grow strong and hardy, unaccustomed to the
excessive tenderness which is often deemed necessary to
the preservation of an infant's life. During its first winter,
which was a severe one. even for a northern climate, it
scarcely had the appearance of a cold, though it was much
of the time in an apartment where doors were being open-
ed and shut very frequently, and which at the best was not
a warm one. When I went from my own small and heat-
ed room into this, I often found the cold uncomfortable, and
remonstrated with the nurse for suffering the child to re-
main in it. But I was at length convinced that he owed
his fine health and exemption from colds to this habitual
exposure to fresh air, and variation of temperature. I would
remark, however, that the child's dress was warm, consist-
ing of a pinning blanket, petticoat, and frock with long
sleeves, all of flannel.
In order to sum up my observations npon the moral hab-
its of children, I would remark,
1st. That education has great influence upon the emo-
tions. Excessive indulgence renders children selfish and
obstinate. By always regarding their slightest cries, we
suffer them to acquire a domineering disposition, and fix in
their hearts the love of power and tyranny. Peevishness
may be produced by trifling with their feelings or teazing
them ; and sullenness may arise from too much sternness
and severity. A mild, yet decided course may in general
be expected to produce the happiest effect upon the dispo-
sition.
2d. Education gives an early bias to the moral princi-
ples, of which truth is the corner-stone. A child that is
deceived, learns to deceive in its turn ; and from this dispo-
348 A MOTHER'S JOURNAL.
sition originates the vice of lying. When you hold out
something to a child to induce him to attempt to walk, and
then withhold it from him, you sow in his mind the seed
from whence will spring lies.
3d. The religious education of a child, may be begun
when he is capable of distinguishing the look, tones, and
postures of devotion from those which appear in the ordi-
nary affairs of business or amusement. A child of a year
old accustomed to hearing grace at table, will learn to sit
quietly and with a serious look until this duty is perform-
ed, although hungry for his dinner.* I do not say that he
will always do this ; there are times with children, as
with grown people, when they are irritable and cannot bear
restraint with a good grace.
All the intellectual faculties which distinguish man are
seen in an active child of a year old. Perception is ever
on the alert with him ; if he hear the mewing of the cat,
he looks after her that he may perceive her ; if he hear a
sound, he seeks to ascertain the cause of it. Perception
has through the medium of sensation taught him a vast
number of facts ; and he is ever watching to gain new in-
formation by the same means. Memory recalls to him the
objects of his perceptions, aided by his reflections. He
weeps to see his mother go out with her bonnet on. This
is because he remembers that she has been out before, and
that he is happier when she is with him. Ask him where
is papa, and he looks towards the place which he is accus-
tomed to see him occupy. The faculty of association has
connected the appellation, papa, with the person, and this
again is connected with the idea of place. Reason has
taught him to avoid the hot stove ; curiosity is constantly
leading him to new observations, and imagination shows
itself in his interest in pictures and images.
* I have seen one who wanted a few days of a year, cover his face
with his hands, and remain in a fixed position at table, while his
father invoked a blessing. He had, while thus young, learned to
expect this observance and to look up to his father, as soon as the
family were seated at table, as if waiting for him to commence.
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