%' / LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. M. I'abbe AMABLE BSeSAU. THE SPIRIT O F EDUCATION, BV ^- M. Pabbe AMABLE BEESAU, Cure de Saint-Louis-Des-Francais, a Moscou, Precedem- ment Chapelain de L' Ambassade de France a Saint-Petersburg, Camerier d'Hon- u ^ ^ ueur de S. S. Pie IX. ^^>^, / TRANSLATED BY Mrs. E. M. Me CARTHy^ Published for the Translator, by > S^ K!'- C. W. BARDEEN, SYRACUSE, I^: Y. 1881. r U"P TO THE PUBLIC. The volume of which an English translation is now for the first time offered, has for some years been considered at once the most eloquent and the most practical treatise upon education in the French language. The long experi- ence of the author, his earnest piety, and his felicity of illustration rendered him eminently fit to prepare a volume to which Catholics might look with confidence, and which they can not fail to read with interest and profit. In these days of rapid change, and almost morbid mental activity, we can not too zealously guard the education of our children; and the translator feels sure she offers to the English-speaking public a work which can not fail to assist all parents who will read it — a work which is fervent and yet conservative ; Catholic, yet unsectarian and universal. Hoping that teachers and parents and especially mothers may find in this work as much help as she has herself derived, the translator commends it to the public. CONTEJS^TS. NOTK I-: OF ArPKOlJATION V l^JiKFACE Xi CiiAi'TER 1. What Education Is - 17 II. What Infancy Is 27 III. Early Years 46 IV. Youth 64 V. The Intelligence 100 VI. Education of the Heart 142 VII. Education of the Will 18:> VIII. Physiology of Education 205 IX. Education of the Manners 241 X. Conversation 254 XI. The Art of Speaking Well 266 XII. Exterior Graces 277 XIII. The Character 284 XIV. Work 299 Epilogue. 321 Copyright, 1881, by Mrs. E. M. Mc Cartiij- NOTICES OF APPKOBATIOK APPROVED BY THEIR EMINENCES THE BISHOPS OF METZ AND BEAUVAIS. We have read with pleasure the work entitled the " Spirit of Education " hj Monsieur V Abbe Beesau. This book, to which the circumstances give special interest, is filled with judicious sketches, and is distinguished for its elegant sim- plicity of style, and for its appropriate quota- tions. Its perusal by all those engaged in the education of youth, as well as parents, and young people themselves, will be very useful. We all desire to see a work which presents the true principles of education in so just and attractive a manner placed in the hands of every family. M Paul, Bishop of Metz. vi notices of approbation. Joseph Armand Signoux, Bishop of Beauvais, J^oyon et Senlis. From the favorable report made to lis, we approve the work published by Monsieur I'Abbe Beesau, cure de St. Louis des Francais, in Mos- cow, under the title of " L' Esprit de 1' Edu- cation." In a moderate Christian language full of inter- est, the author has elucidated in a clear distinct plan, the principles that should preside over the education of youth. Tlie labor, we have the hope, will contribute, with the benediction of God, to the success of this excellent work, that Leibnitz calls so justly : " The Foundation of Human Happiness.'^ Given at Beauvais this 25th September, 1867, Joseph Armand, Bishop of Beauvais, ]N"oyon et Senlis. A letter from Llis Excellency the Duke of Montebello, Senator and former Embassador from France to the Court of St. Petersburgh, addressed to the author ; FROM THE DUKE OF MONTEBELLO. Vll MoNSiETTE l' Abbe : I thank yon for having sent me a copy of the new edition of yonr excellent book, " L' Esprit de 1' Edncation." In a volnme of inconsiderable size, and very attractive to the reader, yon have not only united all considerations capable of cultivating esteem for the great work of edncation, bnt have given direction to it, and inspired love for it. It is impossible to read your book and not feel com- pelled, as far as means and circumstances will permit, to instruct our children, who are, as you aptly remark, " The men of the future." Under a plan perfectly mature, you have suc- cessfully examined what should be the education of the intellect, the heart, the wdll, and even the manners ; and those things that miglit seem only accessory to education, such as the art of selecting choice and appropriate words to facili- tate and embellish the rare gift of fluency and elegance in conversation. You have joined to this the cultivation of exterior grace of manners, Vlll NOTICES OF APPROBATION. which is of the highest importance, for we im- mediately recognize the well-bred gentleman. Your work is impregnated with Christian and pious sentiments, yet readers less religiously dis- posed will peruse it with pleasure, because of the moderation by which it is characterised ; making it preferable to others which are more polemic. Be assured, the simple, flowing, brilliant manner in which this modest work is so well written, will place it beside works of greater volume but less accessible to all, and will materially aid in effect- ing a salutary influence. It pleases me much to have you say how much the truths of the Catechism, when it is well taught, offer as a source of cultivation to the hearts of children. At this page my memory naturally reverts to the time when we both lived in St. Petersburgh. My thoughts go back to the little improvised chapel belonging to the French colony, where you gave, be it in substantial direction to the faith- ful, or in catechism classes frequented with so much happiness by the French children, that precious instruction which you always made so FROM THE DITKE OF MONTEBELLO. IX interesting. Yon were then indeed engaged in the education of the numerous youths for whom you provided a real and lasting benefit, and for which they and their families preserve a lively gratitude. Education is still your theme to-day in Mos- cow, in that little church of '' St. Louis des Fran- cais," where our compatriots in the heart of Eussia ever find you in the centre of a family parish, proclaiming evangelical truths, and the free exercise of religious worship. Above all you are ever in the Parochial school— a generous and truly useful establishment, which, placed under your enlightened direction, has become another means of extending the influence you Monsieur 1' Abbe, without doubt your work will be well received in a country which needs men, and which understands that only through education are they to be obtained. All you have written upon this subject is summed up in the following few words which I read in your first chapter : ''Education, when it is well understood and X NOTICES OF APPROBATION. founded upon a truly religious basis produces three most admirable effects, namely : it elevates man, cultivates in liim Christian character, and prepares him to become a Saint." This great and beautiful thought is perfectly developed throughout your excellent work. Please accej)t. Monsieur V Abl^e, with my thanks, the assurance of the esteem and sincere affection with which I have so long regarded you. Duke de Montebello. Mareuil-sur-Ay, 15th September, 1867. PKEFACE. The title of tliis work sufficiently indicates the end we have in view, to present the principles that should direct a good education. Education, like the construction of a building, is impossible without fundamental thought, design, and plan. To appearance this plan is of small consequence, while in reality it is of great importance ; in fact it is indispensable to make the structure regular, solid and durable. Education is a moral structure : an immense moral edifice, where thousands of workmen are called to sustain their share of effort and devotion, but of which the execution will not have unity, perfection and harmony, if each one does not work according to a given plan,- follow- ing out the same ideas under the inspection of the same spirit. Xll PREFACE. Certainly education does not consist in writing out a crude idea, any more than a plan erects the house. To instruct children is a work essen- tially practical, and which consists most of all in acting. Nevertheless there must be ideas to direct the work, a path by which to conduct it, a spirit to give it life. It seems to us, even, that but little can be written upon this important subject, outside of certain rules. For these in their applications are so numerous and variable, depending so much upon changes of circimistances, that one can neither foresee them nor trace them in advance. But what might prove singularly profitable, would be to sum up these principles by argument, and in this manner make a philosophy of educa- tion. Such is the object of this book. Here, as in the plan of an edifice, each part must occupy its own peculiar place ; but only to figure according to its importance, extent, end, and finally to the relation it bears to the whole. Those considerations which appear subordinate ought not to be omitted ; just as in our architect's plan, we catch a glimpse of the position and effect PREFACE. Xlll of ornamentation; that is to say, everything shonld be indicated with vigor and clearness. To fathom its depths wonld not only lead us to transcend onr limits, bnt compel ns to write as many special treatises as we have written chapters. Therefore it is necessary that we shonld con- dense the developments, and content ourselves with simply explaining what constitutes the spirit of education. It will be readily understood that this book is not only written for the instruction of those who have chosen, as a profession, the education of youth, but that it equally interests parents, who are bound by a sacred obligation to comprehend this duty, and to work dilligently to secure the enviable results. It is also fraught with usefulness to children and young people, in discovering to them the importance of an education, and disposing them to a docile conformity to those who are placed over them as teachers ; it is probable, even, that many whose education is incomplete, or has been misdirected, will be enabled by reading these pages to discover wherein they are wanting, and XIV PREFACE. strive to acquire as well as to repair, as far as possible, the faults of an early training. Bj this means they will also discover the true bases whereon to reconstruct their unhnished edifice, that the agitating passions of life have, perhaps, already overthrown. When the object of labor is to make ourselves better, it is never too late to begin. Education is the work of a lifetime. Occupied several years in literary and educa- tional pursuits, before assuming the pastoral charge either in France or Russia, we have had the privilege of seeing a very great number of children of different ages, of studying a great variety of character, and of making many practi- cal observations which will, perhaj)s, give some value to these reflections. Should this work contribute, in the smallest degree, to advance the true spirit of education, it will l)e a joy to have thus contributed to a cause which we have always loved, and which seems to us of the highest importance. In fact it is the fundamental work of society and religion. ''I have alway thought," said Leibnitz, "that one could reform society by reforming the edu- PREFACE. XV cation of youth." This celebrated man also said : '' The right education of children is the structure on which human happiness is founded." In reading this book, the children and joung people, to whom we have already tried to do some good, will see under another form the thoughts we so loved to conununicate to them. Here they will find councils of a master to whom they gave all their confidence, and the remem- brance of a friend who will always be devoted to them. Above all, we would bring forward a fruitful thought which cannot be too much insisted upon, that in education the religious element should be the fundamental basis, the living principle, as it is the principal guarantee of success. CHAPTEK I. WHAT EDUCATION IS. I. However little the nature of man may be studied, it is easy to see that his soul, almost as much as his body, is subject like all other organ- ized beings to the laws of growth and develop- ment. This idea is admirably expressed in the following words of St. Gregory de Nysse : "As the body, little and weak at its birth, advances on towards perfection, so the soul, in following the progress of the servant which is united to it, seems to rise to perfection. It is in its organiza- tion a primitive power to elevate and develop. In its incipient state it is concealed in the soil, and to appearance produces little or no result. When the plant appears to the light, and exposes its germ to the rays of the sun, it soon opens like a flower, with the power of sensation. When it becomes large and more fully developed, you can see the power of reason forming itself like 18 WHAT EDUCATION IS. fruit. It does not show its entire splendor sud- denly but comes nevertheless, to rapid perfec- tion, with the organization which serves it as an instrument," Such is the result derived from education in its ordinary acceptation : to take man in his early infancy, and awaken him to life; to exercise his faculties little by little, and lead him by degrees to the full development of all his powers, and all that elevates his being, and by thus forming his present life, prepare him for divine perfection in the life to come ! The sub- lime consummation indicated by St. Paul in these words : , " Whom we preach admonishing every man and teaching every man in all wisdom, that we may 2:)resent every man perfect in Christ Jesus." So the object of education is to develop all the precious germs that God has planted in each one of us. The word itself — the Latin etymology of '' educare," suggests to draw from, to extract — sufficiently indicates that great efforts are to be used to obtain from the mind, heart, and will of the child's being, that which is capa- ble of producing good. These faculties whose roots are buried in the soil, when conducted by a THE CHILD. 19 well directed effort, may produce abundant fruits and graceful flowers upon its magnificent branches. When education is well understood and sincerely religious, it has three great effects, which should cause it to be appreciated above all things else. It elevates man, it forms the Christian and prepares him to become a saint. Is there anything in the world more desirable, or that is more worthy of our veneration ? An old adage says : " Who sees a child sees nothing." That is true only so far as relates to a child such as he is in coming into the world, shorn of all succor from education. Indeed how circumscribed is the little being ! it is a very little thing, this infirm creature, who more than all others stands in need of care and succor ! Man at his birth has much less power than any other being, and in this sense it is true to say : " Who sees a child sees nothing." But here let us weigh our words when we speak, for education comes to the rescue. She takes this child and says to herself : " There is a reasonable being, made in the image of God ; this child is possessed of intelligence, of a heart filled with noble and 20 WHAT EDUCATION IS. high faculties, which exist in him, so to speak, only in a latent state. I am going to develop these concealed germs. I am about to cultivate this little being and to study his inclinations, his aptitude, his strength ; and I will direct him in conformity with that which appears to be his particular temperament, the different shades of his nature, and I will make of him a man. Who knows what this child will become ? Who knows but in him germs of the greatest genius and traits of the noblest character exist in embryo ? It may be a Fenelon, a Bossuet, a Turenne, or a Conde ! He may at least become a virtuous man and a useful member of society." In this sense it is not true to say : '' Who sees a child sees nothing." Rather one should say : " Who sees a child sees a man." He who sees a nation in its infancy and youth, sees all that nation's happy or unhappy future. Homer rep- resents Jupiter weighing the destinies of peoples in a balance. Education, more powerful than Jupiter, holds in her hand good and evil, and according as she carries one or the other in the balance, she determines the destinies of govern- DEVELOPMENT. 21 ments. From this point of view, in what gran- deur does education appear ! In St. John Chry- sostom's sixtieth homily, on the eighteenth chap- ter of St. Matthew, the following extract may be found : '' Quid ma jus quam animis moderari, quam adolescentulorum iingere mores? Omni certe pictore, omni certe statuario, caeterisque hujusmodi omnibus excellentiorem hunc duco, qui juvenum animas fingere non ignoret," in which man to a degree is associated with the divine work. God has said : " Let us make man," and his creative hand has given to earth its masterjDiece and its King. Here it is still God who says : ''Let us make man," but who works with modera- tion, by degrees, associating himself with men already formed, and through them fashioning, so to speak, the moral being of the child you are to educate. Yes, to "educate infancy" is an ex- pression as profound as it is noble and true. It shows perfectly that education consists in taking that mind, that heart, the entire child in the obscure and lowly state where God has given it birth and raising it to the height where all is truth beauty and virtue. 3 5SI55 WHAT EDUCATION IS. Education is then, above all, a work of devel- opment. Its aim is to cultivate the faculties, to develop noble and generous instincts, and to form amiable and virtuous habits. Hence it is easy to comprehend that education does not consist in crowding the mind of a child as soon as possible with a multitude of facts, more or less well arranged, but in applying oneself, by well chosen and useful exercises, to put the mind of the child in a condition to compre- hend, to judge, to reason. It labors to dispose the heart to love the good and the beautiful, and strives to form the will to the practice of virtue. In a word it proposes to form all his being, in developing therein the power to think, to love, to act, that he may attain to that degree of knowledge and goodness which God has des- tined him to reach. And what is that degree ? Perfection ! That is to say, education is the work of an entire life-time, and one might call man a being who at his point of departure is nothing, but whose limit is infinite. II. After the first education of childhood, youth should receive assistance which demands more EDUCATION CONTINUOUS. 23 and more a serious and sustaining co-operation on its part. This secondary education becomes more fruitful in proportion to the degree the scholar is taught to aid himself, and thus favors the reg- ular and progressive expansion of the special gifts with which nature has endowed him. Early education has but little positive effect, except in placing him in a condition to study successfully. Secondary education calls more than ever for cooperation of self effort, a concurrence that from day to day becomes more important, according as his strength grows and his experi- ence is extended. Finally the scholar leaves his masters, and enters into the world. To the eyes of superficial men his education appears com- plete, while in fact, he has then only changed the means. Under this new form he still continues to learn, until in the third period he acquires a peculiar dignity and usefulness. Scholastic edu- cation is succeeded by spontaneous education imperceptibly seconded, more or less, by former instruction, which lends to him its capital of efficiency. With this the solitary student occu- pies himself during the remainder of his life. 24 WHAT EDUCATION IS. This unrestricted activity which up to this time received assistance from masters is henceforth to rely upon itself, and will recognize better, and invoke oftener, the guide which is about to direct him, namely, Reflection. Yes, during the succeeding years of his life, reflection will be man's most powerful means of education. The multitude of various ideas with which he has stored his mind, facts and dates, the accumulation of his memory, will be of little service to him. If they are not made food for reflection, or if he does not seek to acquire from them wherewith to acquit his experience in life^ to form for himself a philosophy of the heart, his education is not accomplished, nor is the man formed within him. It is in the school of reflection that men, things, passions, times, occupations and experiences of all kinds will give man that instruction he little anticipates, — an education a little slow, per- haps, but profoundly useful. I do not fear to say that in this new and con- tinued school, his mind, heart, character, in fact, his entire moral being, will achieve an individual and decided stamp. ITS END PERFECTION. 26- Above all it is bj experience man is formed. ^^ He that has not been proved, what does he know ? " say the scriptures. Through experi- ence the weak fortify themselves, — or at least, learn, like the reed, to nourish themselves in the torrent by which they are tossed. The strong become heroic, as the oak by the storm it resists becomes more firmly rooted. It is thus that innocence without losing its integrity becomes true virtue ; that is to say, becomes strong, courageous, resisting gloriously and with perseverance. In this manner the char- acters of great men are in part of their own crea- tion. It is to reflection aided by courage and constant efforts, that they owe the complete development of their being, because " The life of man is, in reality, but one great persistent edu- cation, of which perfection is the end and aim " ( De Gerando.) As we occupy ourselves here with the educa- tion of childhood and youth, in a special man- ner our attention first of all will be called upon to consider the following points. We will en- deavor to make ourselves familiar with the 26 WHAT EDUCATION IS. nature of a child, the resources and obstacles which are found within him ; then, what should be the education given to his intellect, as also his heart, his will, and even his manners. We will consider likewise his character, upon which edu- cation should exert a great influence. Finally, we will consider the young man as he advances in life with the succors that Providence throws around liim to work out each day his moral per- fection and thus to merit his recompense. CHAPTEK II. WHAT INFAN^CY IS. I. What more beautiful spectacle than that of a mother beside the cradle of her infant child ! It is divine providence, under the most touching form, and in its most graceful expression, watch- ing over a helpless being, called to become at a later period the perfection of God's creature, a man. Let childhood rejoice in its helplessness and weakness since thej obtain for it the happi- ness of passing its earliest years under a protec- tion so tender and so perfect ! Let us hasten to study somewhat in detail, what this little child is, who reposes in his cradle, or ventures his first uncertain steps under the eyes of his mother. This child is a man, with all his future yet concealed in these early years. He is the hope of his family, and who can say that he is not destined to exercise a very useful influence upon society ? 28 WHAT INFANCY IS. And see how lovely a creature, and how worthy he is of care, affection and devotion ! Already his little members are beginning to develop themselves until in later childhood nothing is more charming and inspires more hope than his unaffected candor. Let ns penetrate this grace- ful envelope, let us go to the heart of this flower so full of freshness and innocence ; there we shall find a soul which is gradually awakening to life. See how anxious this little one is to learn ; listen to his thousand little questions revealing every moment a mind that calls for the truth. How shall we describe his pure heart which still pos- sesses the rich grace of baptism with which it is adorned ? Ineif able treasure, precious source of a thousand excellent qualities ! His will is still so pliable, he is easily turned to the right direction, a simple word is sufiicient to conduct him on to good and pious acts. Oh ! how delightful to see, and how sweet to cultivate such a heart 1 We feel that here is an earnest of Heaven, and that, in his innocent eyes we dis- cover the look of an angel. But he is growing ; he will soon become a NATURE DEVELOPING. 29 young man. Now hie intellectnal and moral nature develops daily more and more. Yeiled by that joyous and langhing face, there are noble thoughts and generous sentiments. Inadvert- antly, perhaps, you relate some affecting story, mark what absorbed attention ! He is immova- ble. He would have listened for entire hours. Again, a poor person comes, asking charity. "With supplicating voice she describes her wretch- edness. At once the child is touched and eagerly calls for alms for the poor one. Obtaining them he places them in her trembling hands, and returns, with beaming face. The joy this good action gives him lights up his features witli the sweet radiance of goodness. How sad he is when his mother tells him that she suffers ! How his tears mingle with hers when she weeps ! The joy of his brothers and sisters are his own joys : their sports are his sports. He loves, he is beloved, and his presence only is sufficient to give pleasure. Fenelon loved children. At the age of sixty-four, one Autumn in his palace at Cam- bria, he took charge of the education of the 30 WHAT INFANCY IS. young sons of tlie Duke de Chaiilnes ; and he never spoke of them but with tenderness. " Do not forget," he wi'ote to their father, *' that you have promised me your dear young sons for the beautiful season of Autumn. I shall be charmed with them." At another time, " I beg you to send me your dear children, who are also mine ; I shall be delighted, and will instruct them myself. Leave them with me. It will not only give me great pleasure, but I will try and make myself useful to them." In writing to their mother, he says : "As for your little trooj) of children, they do not in the least inconvenience me ; they make me happy, and I love them tenderly. In fine, I am rejoiced to have them here." What an agreeable sight it is to see children enter into all their legitimate recreations with the natural zest and joy of their age ! What a noble, an exalted spectacle, to see these same children at study, already exercising their youth- ful intellects in a labor, which, however arduous it may be, will reward them with the richest re- sults ! But above all how touching a sight is a THE HOPE OF THE WORLD. 31 child at prayer ! Represent to your mind Jesus at the tender age of twelve years, conducted to the temple by his pious parents. Can you not see Him in the faces of these young children, the day of their first communion, or even when they have accomplished any solemn act of religion ? Why is childhood the period of so much love- liness? Why are our devotion, our cares, and our tenderest affections so irresistibly attracted toward them? It is hope^ yes, the hope of heaven, whose palms and whose crowns they will win. They are the hope of this world, of the family, of the country. In the faces of children every indication may be discerned of the excel- lent disposition they possess and which only awaits cultivation. There may be seen through their transparent and pure glances the most promising germs, the noblest faculties, as one sees through the limpid waters precious objects which a prodigal hand has dropped there. The culture of the divine gifts, through the dif- ferent branches of education, will constitute the subject upon which we proceed to dwell at length. We shall see better then, how these 32 WHAT INFANCY IS. concealed resources render childhood the most fruitful age, provided a religions iniinence is comprehended in this education, which may in- spire his affections, direct his efforts, correct his fanlts, anticipate his deviations, and develop in him every germ of beauty and goodness. He who placed a just value upon all things, how tenderly He loved and honored childhood ! What philosopher ever said, before Jesus Christ : ^' Let the little ones come unto me, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven ? " At the moment when tlie Saviour of the world pronounced these words did not the fathers and mothers by whom He was surrounded, fall at his feet to adore Him? II. At the same time let us not deceive ourselves. Infancy is like a cultivated field, in which, side by side with the most beautiful and precious flowers poisonous and perfidious seeds have been sown. These bad seeds grow with the good, and they are called tares. These must be eradicated with care lest they hinder the growth of the salutary plants. FAULTS INTERSPERSED. 33 There is, perhaps, ah-eadj much to reform in the child who now appears all gentleness and beauty. And should not great care be used, this young heart so desirous of enjoyment, will hasten to cast itself into pleasures which will soon tarnish its innocence. His will may even now possess a certain love of independence, and a resolute firmness amounting to obstinacy. Irritability, impatience, petulance, combined with an ardent disposition, may often carry him be- yond the limits of a commendable prudence. There is, then, from the earliest years, much to correct; but this must by no means dishearten ^or intimidate us. The happiest and most richly endowed natures are not necessarily those who are exempt from faults. Who does not know through what un- ceasing combats the greatest saints have passed ? In fact it is very difficult to act efficiently upon a nature too calm or too impassible, which is often like stagnant water, whose depths may, one day, cast up dirt and filth. Is it not much more desirable to encounter active, even passionate characters ? 34 WHAT INFANCY IS. In the last instance, there is one effectual re- sort, which consists in stimulating them to energy in the pursuit of knowledge. Above all, in educa- tion the passions may be compared to vicious horses, which may at any time launch us into an abyss, but, being skillfully managed, as readily conduct us to the grandest achievements. We are often too easily alarmed by the faults of chil- dren, and do not consider their age or their con- stitution, or the various circumstances which surround them, all of which time will modify. Fenelon says of a child, difficult to control : "His faults arise from his temperament and age, and there is every reason to believe that a good edu- cation and riper reason will change them into- true talent. Like new wine, it mellows by age its fresh tartness and converts it into strength. If you have a very positive nature to contend with, you have only to soften it. Age, w^hick fortifies by reason, by example, by authority, will temper the impetuosity of youth, which must be treated with sweetness and patience, but with firmness." Childhood is a period of life, in which all SELF-ESTEEM. 35 moral influences may be perfected in harmony witli tlie constant development of the body. How necessary it is, then, to encourage a child by giving expression to the sentiments yon feel in his presence! What joy one feels in spite of the thought- lessness and precipitancy of young natures to see them struggle and finally triumph, although, perchance, confused with much that is objection- able, still stamped with undoubted energy and love of goodness ! It matters little if a child is overtaken with a sally of passion, when he returns with so much regret, and so sincere a desire to give no more pain to the one he has wounded. Less gracious is sunshine after a storm, than the return of this child, and the tears of his repentance. m. One important thing to remark is the nature and instinctive tendency that children have to self-esteem, the greatest source of all evil. "Consider," said Fenelon, "how, at this age, children seek those who flatter them, and avoid 36 WHAT mFA^CY IS. those who restrain them ; how well they know how to cry and when to be silent, in order to obtain their desires ; see to what a degree artifice or jealousy has already taken possession of them." Often we langh at their little caprices, and find in them something winning. This is wrong. Children will become accustomed to hear all their acts approved, and to have exclu- sive attention paid to all their wants, until finally they come to regard themselves as the only ob- ject of consideration. They are hapj^y and con- tented while you lavish caresses and flattery upon them, but when required to perform some duty all is changed. They become sullen, rude and stubborn. The child who finds himself centered in the affection of all those by whom he is surrounded necessarily becomes egotistical. He is not affec- tionate or grateful to his parents, nor thoughtful in regard to others. Age and merit receive no recognition from him. His babble forces to silence all in his circle, be they never so respect- able. You must be amused with all his sayings, and delighted with all his doings. Alas! that HAUGHTINESS. 37 too much consideration should vitiate this flower of simplicity, this gentle respectfulness, this absence of all pretension, which render child- hood so happy and so lovely. We sometimes laughingly rally the mother upon her child's conduct, and suggest the thought of his being too much petted. The mother only smiles, feeling, perhaps, compli- mented rather than otherwise ; and notwithstand- ing the misfortune of having a spoiled child, still remains blind to the fact. How often have children who have given evi- dence of the greatest promise, yet through the weakness of parents become the prey of every evil ! Seneca says : " What may not the child be- come, whose anxious mother gratifies his every desire, wipes away his every tear, and on all occa- sions excuses him before his masters ? " It is sad to see pride so misplaced at any age, encroaching upon the character of a child, ren- dering it haughty and arrogant, unamiable, in- trusive and full of vain ostentation ! Fenelon gives the following description of a child spoiled by pride : " His mother had nourished in him a haughti- 38 WHAT INFANCY IS. ness and pride which obscured all his most amia- ble characteristics. His nature was good and sincere, but not very affectionate. He thought little of what might give pleasure to others. Nothing seemed impossible, when seeking his own gratification, and the least obstacle irritated his ardent nature. He had been flattered by his mother from his cradle, and was a striking exam- ple of the misfortune of many of those who are born in elevated stations. The rigors of fortune which he began to feel in his early youth have failed to moderate his arrogance and impetuosity. His pride, like the pliant palm, yields but to present pressure, however great may be the effort made to control it." Nothing is more insupportable than to hear a child say to his 23arents or teacher : "I will have this ! I will not do that ! That tires me." It is always "I." Self-esteem exacts that everything should pay tribute to himself, alone, and he wishes to live but for the gratification of his whims, disregarding alike both obedience and order. This arrogant " I " is also singularly strength- A LITTLE PEODIGY. 39 ened in another way ; that is by the elaborate and expensive manner in which chikh'en are dressed. They are made, permit me to use the expression, like little dolls, never appearing ex- cept in the latest styles, and with a bearing like the ladies whom they represent. All is so gen- teel, so nicely adjusted ! their bewitching cnrls are so graceful. These poor children consider themselves possessed of something extraordinary, greatly overrating these frivolous advantages. Love of admiration is their only desire. Add to their affected pose the most conceited language, and the picture is perfect. Can you not see how this poor mother has spoiled her child ? how she makes of him an idol which she constantly caresses and flatters, and how by this weakness she may cause the unhap- piness of a child,whom she would willingly shield with the forfeit of her life ? Again, a great number of children are spoiled by giving undue importance to their first success. Should a child possess a good memory, he is made to learn a multitude of things ; fables, poetry, history, proper names, and dates. Then, this 40 WHAT INFANCY IS. little prodigy, five or six years old, is led into a reunion or soiree, every look is fixed upon him, and, if he possesses naturally a gentle bearing, all fall into raptures over his admirable conduct, and his astonishing memory. His very words are commented upon as signs of genius, his impertinences even sparkle with wit, and will be called ingenious tricks. Is it possible to appreciate the gigantic and deep rooted pride in these young hearts, — a pride that dazzles and at the same time sterilizes ! In fact, what is the ordinary result ? These children who have been always flattered, caressed, and overwhelmed with praise, lose their good sense, and never acquire a love for industry. "The result," says Fenelon, "is that those so celebrated at the age of five years fall into ob- scurity and when arrived at antiquity are de- spised." The time comes when we have a right to ex- pect from a child something more than the mem- ory of a parrot and genteel manners. Their little ways that give so much pleasure now disappear with advancing youth, and as nothing besides PERFECT CHILDREN. 41 this exterior covering and this ephemeral flower has been cultivated, so nothing remains to him in a short time but intolerable pedantry. In speaking of the faults of children, we do not wish to manifest a desire to come in contact only with perfect children, for none such exist and if they did, it would not be upon .them that educa- tion would exert its most powerful influence. We believe that children possessing what may be called a premature perfection enjoy a gift more dangerous than useful. Many natures are thus happily constituted, and there are children who are indeed quiet, industrious, docile and altogether well disposed. By some admirably concurrent cir- cumstances, their conduct is so harmonious that reproach is uncalled for. They are never subjects of censure in the fam- ily circle, for there they are sweet-tempered, re- spectful, neat in their person, and complaisant. With their masters they appear attentive, and dili- gently apply themselves to study. Habituated to have given to them every week advantageous notes, accompanied by merited praise, they estab- lish themselves in a state of contentment that 42 WHAT INFANCY IS. leads them secretly to despise others, and almost makes them think that tliey possess an excep- tional natnre. They are treated as prodigies of intelligence, and in their presence are even pro- posed as models to others, which never fails to puff them np with pride. It is a fortmiate event when some trifling misdemeanor subjects them to a just reproach or serious reprimand. Happy fault ! It will prove to them what the scalpel in the hands of a skilled surgeon effects in a malig- nant tumor, which sooner or later in its conse- quences would have perhaps proved fatal. With- out doubt kindness must be made use of, but do not fear to t^me these little Catos by a firmness which without humiliating them too much or caus- ing them too much suffering, will show them that they have an immense amount yet to acquire, and that, after all, they will be insupportable if they do not add to their budding merits, and to their happy dispositions, the sweetest of all flowers, humble modesty. From all that we have just said about a child, we must infer that he becomes the source of the most exalted hopes, when he receives a proper mHEKITED PROPENSITIES. 43 education. Through love and good will his nature can be greatly enriched and brought into an active state, which will produce that which is beautiful, amiable and good. Whatever unfortunate germs a child may have received at his birth as a sad inheritance, one should let nothing cause one to despair. Let us be captivated no longer by the beautiful flow- ers that spring spontaneous from the bosom of the earth, nor be discouraged at the injurious plants, which grow there in spite of us. Let us remember only that we are educating a child whose future is in our hands. It is deplorable to hear one say: "My son is born with such propensities, that there is nothing that can be done; that is a family trait, the inheritance of his birth, and he will never change." A profound error, and a sad presage for his future ! There is no soil so bad that an intelli- gent and firm culture will not ameliorate it. Others say : "I do not fear their little faults; they are not serious, for the heart is excellent; as years increase all that will disappear." Be care- ful, rather, that age does not increase the growth. 44 WHAT INFANCY IS. of tares, over that of the good grain, and that the latter be not sadly smothered. Water that insinuates itself drop by drop into a ship, finally will submerge it, and the worm which invariably gnaws the root of a plant, will soon canse it to wither by sapping the sonrce of its life. All bears its importance in education, and who- ever is charged with the education of a child, should feel himself invested with a sublime mis- sion, and ought to be inspired with both respect and fear. Monseigneur, the Bishop of Orleans, at the time he was superior of the little seminary at Paris, could never divest himself of the most profound impressions, whenever a new scholar was brought before him : "I always experience an indefinable emotion," he writes, "at the sight of this young creature, who, seeing himself separated from his family, anxiously turns his eyes, often bathed in tears, towards me, striving to divine from my looks and my words whether happiness or unhap- piness was to be the result to him in this new situation." A NOBLE CALLING. 45 In fact, the instruction of a child involves the most grave and important responsibilities ! To give to his delicate body necessary care his health and increasing growth demand, to cultivate his mind, to promote in his heart every pure and noble tendency, to pour into it love for man and for religion; cultivate in him distinguished manners free from affectation ; inspire him with politeness and grace, untinged with offensive pretention : finally, prepare him, through a complete and skilfully directed education, to en- ter upon the career that he is about to assume in society, and to which God has called him. What a function ! Who is there with knowl- edge enough to comprehend and accomplish worthily this dignity ? Will it be the man led by interest, and who sees in education only a use- ful and lucrative employment for himself ? Or should it not rather be a truly Christian man who will bring to this noble task, with the talents it demands,that devotion, abnegation and love which only can assure success ? CHAPTEK III. EARLY YEAKS. The education of a child dates from his birth. The impressions which he receives while yet in the mother's arms and nourished from her breast, the first words that he hears, the first objects upon which his eyes rest, finally every- thing connected with his earliest awakening to life, undoubtedly may and do have, a great and decided influence over his future existence. A mother should, therefore, consider it a sacred duty and obligation to bestow upon her young child the most devoted and tender care. In the meantime, let us consider the ordinary care that a child receives in his infancy. Fene- lon says that ''they are abandoned to the care of indiscreet and vicious women, notwithstanding it is the age in which the most profound impres- A mother's duty. 47 sions are made, and consequently they produce the greatest influence upon the future of a child." Here, in passing, will you permit me to say that mothers who enjoy a certain rank in the world evade too easily a duty which should be so sweet : that of nursing their own children and taking upon themselves the care of their early infancy. Can you believe that God, without reason, opened this source of life in the breast of woman ? And that while nourishing her chil- di-en from her own substance,she creates a new tie between herself and child, and thus communi- cates to him the germs of goodness contained in her own maternal heart ? How can a mother, without good reason, con- sent to deprive herself of this precious slavery, if you please, to which she is necessarily condemned by nature in order to bring up her child ? How can she permit a stranger to see the first smile of her son, to be the subject of his earliest caresses, to be the first upon whom the rays of his intelli- gence beam, to watch the early expansion of his heart with all his little words spoken to her — all 48 EARLY YEAKS. this wealth, so sweet to the soul of a mother, and whose loss knows no compensation ? And then what dangers you expose yourself to, should necessity compel you to such a course ! It is a well-known fact that many children have imbibed upon the knees of their nurse, or at the breasts of their foster-mother, the germs of precocious vice, which have developed them- selves at a later period of life. . That which should determine a mother to take charge of the earlier years of her child is the knowledge that in its feeble little body is contained an immortal soul, resplendent with grace and beauty ; since it has been regenerated in the waters of baptism: a soul that God regards w^ith love, and that the angels salute as a sister. This being a fact, let us go and seek this soul, so to speak, contained in in every member, scattered through every organ, and where impressions alone discover its presence. It is necessary to care for all these delicate mem- bers, to w^atch over them and to respect them, as so many vases where this divine spark of life lies slumbering. But who will have the care, the tenderness, the love of a mother, who will not THE CHOICE OF SERVANTS. 49 tonch, even, but witli respect and religious awe, this form of bodj, thrown with gauze-like text- ure around the soul of a child ? When for serious reasons it becomes necessary to confide a young child to the care of a stranger, prudence and extreme caution should preside over the choice that is made. Plutarch said, in his Treatise on Education : — "It is necessary to employ the most assiduous care in the choice of the person charged with the first instruction of children. If it is necessary to fashion the l)odies of children at their birth that they may not contract any natural defect, so one cannot form their characters and manners too soon." This same motive in a higher degree should guide our choice in selecting young ser- vants to constantly attend them. Demoralized servants soon communicate to children their vices of language and manners. The first dawn of mind and intelligence takes place in some children much sooner than one thinks. What happiness for a mother to know that at this moment her child receives only pure and holy ideas, and to be sure that religion and 50 EARLY YEARS. tenderness have produced the first impression upon the being that she loves so ranch ! At first the cares of the body exact the most serious attention. But this physical care should be neither too effeminate nor too severe. Many children of a delicate complexion are exposed to be^ spoiled by an excess of care. So much afraid are they to fatigue or cross the little sick one ! " But," says a good mother often : "I have seen that child so feeble ! it nearly died several times ; it is almost a miracle that I was able to save it." And so she decides reluctantly to di- minish her exaggerated precautions and solici- tudes. In this case of inevitable difficulty, it is only necessary to try for the sake of the child to en- deavor not to go too far in encouraging this ex- cessive delicacy, which will be all its life a source of suffering and restraints. II. The great principle in the education of the physique is that the entire care for the body should be given to it as the habitation of the soul, into whose service it has entered, and which A SOUND MIND IN A SOUND BODY. 51 will govern it. It is only an instrnment, and every care should tend to give it flexibility and docility, wliicli serves to render an instrument precious. The first object to be considered is the forma- tion of the soul ; and while it is obliged to live in this prison-house, to act in such a manner as will keep this house hereafter free from injury, according to the maxim of the Latin poet Juvenal, "Mens sana in corpore sano." The body then is to be cared for less for itself than for the soul that inhabits it. It is an instrument ; let us think of the laborer who is to make use of it. It is a servant ; let us think of the master who is to control it. Final- ly, it is a temple. Let us think of God, who resides there. According to the admirable words of St. Bernard : " The soul is a temple consecrated to God, and the heart is his favored altar." By acting in this manner, all that we do for the soul will be equally profitable to the body. While striving for holiness, we find health ; in the desire for virtue we gain strength ; and the 52 EARLY YEARS. soul one day will be grateful for tlie privations that the body has endured for it, and will retui'n a hundred fold for what it has received. We take pleasure here in quoting the ideas of a man who well understood the true spirit of education : " Should you desire to prej^are a happy future for your child, care for his body as if he were the son of a peasant, and for his soul as if he were the son of a King. Give him the body of a rustic, and the soul of a lord ; that he, having only the desire and necessities of the former, may possess the generosity and grandeur of soul belonging to the latter. Always care- fully distinguish between what St. Paul calls the worldly man and the heavenly man." It is certain, that without a strong constitu- tion, the most intellectual man may be reduced to the greatest incompetency. This is a fact not to be lost sight of. One of the notable essentials to health, of which we think too little, is pure air; "Aer pabulum vitae ; " air is the aliment of life. A man of observation once wrote : " Bad air THE TRAESTING OF PEIXCES. 53 makes one unquiet, morose, discontented, and in- spires a taste for vice." As regards suitable food, many parents are greatly in error, and by excess of care and deli- cacy injure their children. The following is the way in which Louis XIY and Fenelon treated the Duke de Bourgoyne and his brothers : " They live in a very common way, eating as much as they wish at every meal, but are never given anything but the healthiest food. In the morning they eat only dry bread, and drink a large glass of water with some wine, or j^ure water, whichever they choose. At dinner and at supper they eat as much as they wish of every- thing that is placed before them. Attention is paid only to have them eat a good deal of bread and very little crude fruit. Three days in a week stews are served, and at dinner only. At their lunch they eat no more than in the morn- ing, only a piece of dry bread, or at most some biscuit, and drink a glass of water. They drink wine and water at dinner and supper if they wish, (for some times they do not care to do 54: EARLY YEAKS. SO.) They always drink Burgundy wine, and only two cups of it. They do not drink other liqnurs, or refreshing drinks of any kind what- ever, but pure water unmixed with any foreign liquids, unless, on a rare occasion, at some party of pleasure." These details are full of interest, inasmuch as they show us with what simplicity young princes were brought w]^ in those days. It may also be possible that these examples will teach a lesson to many parents who hold certain superior posi- tions in life, and consequently believe that their children should receive more refined attention. I think that all boarding-schools should be conducted on this well-known and well-founded principle — that pupils must be furnished with food at once healthy and abundant. The royal children of France, educated by Fenelon, found health, strength and happiness in the practice of these frugal and simple rules. "The bodily exercise they were obliged to take," he says, " was such that no workman of Paris would have been willing to risk the like system for his child ; and it must be confessed that un- ROBUST AND VIGOROUS. 55 less lie could be certain of his child's strength being equal to theirs, it would be unsafe to take the chance." The fastidiousness of many mothers, often very much retard the physical development of children. Fear of the slightest inconvenience, causes them to retrench indispensable exercise ;. such as g}Tnnastic6, long walks, riding on horse- back, swimming, etc.; means, which, wisely em- ployed, may have upon the health and strength of children the greatest influence. If you wish your child to be strong and vigor- ous, we will say to you with Montaigne, " Inure him to heat and cold, to wind and sun, that he may learn to despise them ; remove from him the usual comforts, common to rising, retiring, dressing, eating, and drinking ; accustom him to all changes, that he may be not a handsome fop, but a robust and vigorous boy." m. The early intellectual education of a child should not be neglected ; at the same time all forcing of the intellect is to be avoided. Fruits 56 EARLY YEAES. too earlj ri23ened are wanting in flavor. We are accnstomed to speak and act towards them as though they had no idea of God or their duties, and were not capable of judging either of truth or goodness ; while the fact remains that as soon as a ray of light penetrates the soul, these ideas, presented to the child by an intelligent and vir- tuous mother, find readv access to the under- standing. But they should be given in an easy and comprehensive manner. Fenelon says that " none but the most exquisite things are to be thrown into such a small and precious reservoir." Little and good, is justly said, but we will say very little, and very good. Let them be taught the most simple, and ordin- ary things,be of service to them at a later jDcriod. Above all, teach them to speak j^lainly, and do not tolerate certain little defects of language that we often do great wrong to admire. We have to remember that not every caj^rice of a child must be gratified, and that in fearing to oppose them, we only multiply their desires. Children upon this point are marvelously saga- cious. They readily divine what they are to ex- EELIGIOUS SENTIMEXT. 57 pect from those by whom they are siiiToiinded. They distinguish not only different characters, bnt the different shades of character, however slight each one may seem. More yet, they know singularly well the power of their caresses, as also of their tears, their cries and feigned illness. "We should instruct them from the earli- est moment that nothing will ever be obtained by such means, and we should remain immovable in our decision. The moral and religious sentiments cannot be awakened too soon in a child's heart. "We should remind them in a grave and serious manner : " This is wi'ong," or " God forbids that." These simple words are usually sufficient to keep them in the path of duty. Often, also, may be said to him, "God sees you," "He hears you," "He knows even your thoughts." In this manner the child will have a monitor during his life, until the thought of God will become habitual. It will be a great stimulant to good action and a ]30werful restraint against evil. We gladly quote here a passage in which Monsieur Lamartine re- 58 EARLY YEARS. calls the tender care his mother employed in his religions education. " Her piety," said he, '' was the part of lierseK that she most ardently desired to communicate to us. To make us creatures of God in spirit and in truth, was her highest maternal wish. In this she succeeded without system, without effort, and with that marvellous natural facility that no artificial means could equal. The piety which flowed from every inspiration, from every act, and from every gesture enveloped us, so to s]3eak, in an atmosj)here of heaven here below. We believed that God followed her ^nd that we should hear him and see him, as she seemed her- self, to hear, see, and conversed with him every hour of the day. God seemed to be one of us. He was born in us with our earliest and most indefinable impressions. We do not remember, not to have known him. Xever a day passed in which we did not speak of him. We always send Him as the third person, when in the soci- ety of our mother. His name was on our lips as we drank the milk 59 from our mother's breast, and while yet lisping we learned to speak his name. "According as we advanced in years, acts which rendered Him present and ever sensible to the soul, were performed twenty times a day, under our eyes. In the morning as in the even- ing, before and after meals, we were obliged to recite short prayers. The knees of my mother were for a long time our familiar altar. Her shining face at those moments was veiled with a respectful and somewhat solemn recollection, which impressed upon our minds the gravity of the act with which she wished to inspire us. When she prayed for and with us, her beautiful face became still more sweet and tender. We felt inundated with her strength and joy. "All our lessons in piety were limited entirely by her religious manner towards us and with us. The perpetual effusion of love, adoration, grati- tude, recollection and prayer which escaped from her soul, were her natural and only sermons. Pray- er,l}a'ic,soaring,sacred prayer, was associated with every act of the day. These constant and aj)- propriate prayers were to her a rapturous pleasure 60 EARLY YEARS. and not a tiresome obligation. In the hands of such a woman onr life was a j)erpetual sursum corda. Her mind rose as natnrally to the thoughts of God as a j^lant that seeks the air and light, for our mother was entirely different from ordinary women. " She never wearied ns with long devotion, or tore ns from onr plays, or awoke ns from onr sleep to pray to God, notwithstanding the repugnance we might feel or the tears we might shed. She made a feast for our souls by these short invocations to which she smilingly invited us. " She did not mingle our prayers with any sad or mournful subject that could excite our tears, but with all the little happy events of the day. For example, in the morning when we lay awake on our little beds and the sun was casting its bright rays into our windows, when the birds were singing on the bushes or in their cage, when the steps of the servants resounded through the house, and we were waiting with impatience my mother's coming before we arose, until finally the sound of steps on the stairs greeted our ears, and she entered our chamber with a face always 61 beaming with goodness, tenderness and sweet joy, she hastened to kiss ns while yet in bed; she assisted us to dress; she listened to all onr little prattle, with which children are so full after a sonnd and refreshing night's rest,in ore like a nest full of chattering swallows on the roof of the honse when the mother approaches ; then she wonld say to ns : " To whom do we owe this happiness we are all enjo}dng together ? It is to God. Without Him this beantifn] snn conld not shine, these trees wonld have lost their verdure; these gay birds would be found dead with cold and hunger on the bare ground; and you, my poor chil- dren, would have neither bed, house, garden, or mother, to shelter and nourish you, and bring to you the joys of each season. It is right for us to thank Him for all he has given us this day, and let us beg of Him to give us many such." Then placing herself upon her knees at the side of our bed, she would join our little hands in her own, and in a slow and subdued voice she would say our morning prayers, while we re- ^62 EARLY YEARS. peated the words and imitated her tone of voice." With what unabated interest we read the de- tails of a christian education ! How sweet the memory of these impressions left on the soul of the child during its entire life, as well as the tender remembrance that he was the object of such care ! "My personal remembrance," says Pere La- cordaire, in his memoirs, ''commenced to unfold at about the age of seven years. Two acts at this epoc are engraved upon my memory. My mother placed me in a little school to commence my study of the classics. Then she brought me to the Priest of her parish, that I might make my first confession. I j^assed through the church into a large and beautiful sacristy, where I found sitting alone a benevolent looking old man. It was the first time I ever approached a Priest, having never seen one Init amidst the pomp and incense of the altar. Monsieur 1' Abbe Deschamps was his name. He was seated on a bench, and asked me to kneel down beside him. I have forgotten what he said to me, or what my PERE LACORDAIKE. 63 reply was to him, but tlie remembrance of this first interview between mj soul and the repre- sentative of God, left the most pure and pro- found impression. I never enter the sacristy, or breathe the air of ''St. Michel de Dijon, that my first confession does not present itself to me under the form of this beautiful old man, coupled with my childish candor and frankness. The church of St. Michel itself participates in this pious devotion, which I never see without feeling emotions with which no other church has been able since to inspire me. My mother, St. Michel, and my incipient religion remain like an edifice in my mind — the first the most touch- ing and the most durable of all." It is easy to comprehend the high importance attached to an early religious education. It forms the basis of the succeeding years of youth, as also for the mature and declining years of manhood. CHAPTEE lY. YOrTH. I. It can be truly said that there is no period of life so effective as youth, ^ because there is no other period in which so much knowledge can be acquired with so great facility. At that age study demands less time and effort because of the flexibility of the intellectual faculties. Things engrave themselves so readily upon the memory of a child. His young and fresh imagination easily yields to whatever sub- ject seizes upon it. His will is docile and pliant as the branches of a young tree while his heart is still a new and virgin soil. It is the spring time of life, the moment for sewing seed, upon a fruitful soil, which only awaits culture to pro- duce fruits and flowers. (1) Adolescence is derived from tlie Latin verb "adolere,'' to burn perfume, which in its turn is derived from the Latin verb '' olere,'" to exhale an odor, because youth is in life the age of perfume and flowers, that is to say the age of all beautiful hopes. THE AGE OF POSSIBILITIES. 65 This age is so fruitful in resources, that men the most richly endowed and who seem to have derived the greatest profit from life, would wil- lingly give all the knowledge of science they have acquired to become young again, under this one condition : that they might profit by the experience that has taught them the value of time — time, as rapid as precious, and the loss of which is irreparable. At this important j^eriod of life, the mind opens with the greatest facility to study. Re- flections are awakened and the judgment begins to form itself. The memory above all requires but slight effort to amass never-failing treasures. It is the age when the heart, already feeling the first movements of passion, should by the entire weight of its education be inclined towards good, cultivating pure and noble affec- tions, that it may not yield to the solicitations of sense. It is the age when the will is about to take a direction for good or bad, which will influence all the rest of his life, according to those pro- found and true words of the Holy spirit : "The 66 YOUTH. young man will follow the way on which he has entered, and even to old age he will contimie to walk therein."— (Prov. XXII, 6.) Finally, it is the age when all good habits are formed, when agreeable manners are easily acquired, and when the imprint of a good edu- cation is stamped npon the moral being of a child, as a seal leaves npon the soft wax an image that time will not efface. Bnt if this period of yonth remain neglected, its flexibility will serve only to increase vicions tendencies.^ Le coenr d'nn homme virge, est nn vase prof ond, Lorsqne la premere ean qn'on y verse est impure, La mer y passerait sans laver la sonillure. Car I'abime est immense, et la taehe est an fond. — {A. de Musset.) Here religion which is so well calculated to adapt itself to all periods of life, provides one of the greatest succors for youth. The imposing solemnities of the first communion shine brightly before his eyes, and form the effective charm of the most beautiful day of his life. Then confirmation comes to fortify his faith and *Cereus in vitium flecti — {Horace). EELIGIOUS VIGILANCE. 67 piety against the world, and his passions which seeks to shake both the one and tlie otlier. There is no period of life as in yonth that religion snrronnds her children by snch anxious and tender vigilance. She seems to wish that, in her school, it may be said, as of Jesns Christ by the Evangelist : " The child grew in wisdom, in age, and in grace before God and man." — (Luke I, 80.) Her wish is not only that the child each year should receive from nature increased height, strength and health, but she w^orks in him an- other development, much more precious. It is that his intelligence shall become enlightened, that his heart be opened to pure and noble affec- tions, and his will established in well doing. His manners, even, receive from her influence, some- thing amiable, and at the same time candid. In a word, it is the christian spirit permeating all the elements of an education otherwise firm and solid, to animate, vivify and functify, giving place for the free operations of Divine Grace through the entire being of the child. While God and angels contemplate this young- person walking on in innocence and virtue, men 68 YOUTH. witness with admiration and affection his happj progress, and in secret bless the principles of a religions education ; becanse there is to be seen an inexplicable reflection of innocence and hap- piness that one must admire and which promises to spread a divine charm over one's whole ex- istence. It was this, unturned, without doubt, which inspired the following picture wi'itten grace- fully by the sister of M. de Chateau- briand : " Amiable innocence, if I dared to give a feeble picture of some of thj traits, I would say that thou boldest the place of virtue to infancy, of \\dsdom to the spring-time of life, of beauty to old age, and of happiness to the unfortunate. Being a stranger to our errors, thou dost shed none Init pure tears, and thy smiles descend from heaven. Beautiful in- nocence ! But what dangers surround thee ! Dost thou tremble? Dost thou try to shield thyself from the perils that menace thee ? Ko ; I see thee, standing, asleep, thy head sup- 23orted on the altar." Yes, it is at the altar that the vouns^ man or PHYSICAL mFLUENCES. * 69 young woman will find support, strength, and life. In its shadow they can be shielded from their enemies. There they will taste sweet peace and enjoy entire security. Beside moral and religious helps, there are others not to be neglected, because they are aids to temper the ardor of the senses, which are as so many doors through which the influences of evil can easily penetrate. For this reason, a vigorous exercise of the body is necessary ; such for example as gymnastics, swimming, taking long walks, joined to temperate life, direction in the choice of food, which should never be ex- citing in its nature. These are some of the ex- ternal means that influence the mind and heart more than one often thinks, and which are of great assistance in passing without danger through this critical and perilous epoch. It is not necessary that education at this age, under pretext of being more religious, should hold children and young people totally estranged from the world, because they should be prepared to live in the world. The illusions are greater for those who have never been brought into con- YO ' YOUTH. tact with the world, on being suddenly launched into society without having first been taught something of its vanities by actual expe- rience. How often a youth will stand on the tips of the toes, or will hang outside the wall of the college grounds, or the paternal mansion, to look at some worldly object. It is a species of enchantment for them. They look upon the world with admiration and ex- aggerate all its pleasures, for they do not suspect its discontent and bitterness. Finally, the time will come when the doors will be opened, and the child will enter that society which he has never seen, but which is the object he has so ardently coveted. What danger? Might it not have been better while using all the precautions that religion commands, to have raised the veil a little that concealed this great source of delusion, and made known to him some true and reasonable things, best suited to his capacity, about a world that it is well to know in order to avoid its quicksands ? n. Naturally a very important question presents EDUCATION AT HOME. 71 itself here : Should our youth be educated at home or in college ? If the family is all it should be, it is without doubt greatly preferable not to send our children away to be educated. I do not hesitate to say that parents who are so situated in life as to be able with time and means at their command, to follow up and see crowned with success the edu- cation of their children, do well to keep them by them, as long as that shall be possible ; be- cause there is nothing as useful to a child as home influence, a precious treasure. Alas ! so easily dissipated at college. Nor should a child be sent too far away from home, for to some degree it will feel its heart orphaned. This is the age when the family affections are very sweet, and it is very painful for the child to find himself entirely surrounded by strangers. There are special instances even when in- struction should be given, and continued through the whole course of study. Without this the intellect of some children could never be devel- oped. In fact, we find plants which demand a cultivation peculiar to themselves, for which the T2 YOUTH. usual care given would be not only insufficient, but injurious. So there are many children thus organized that a public education, so far from de- veloping the mind, would on the contrary, fail to make manifest what we have a right to expect. In some cases the delicate health of the child requires very especial consideration ; with others again, we find a hidden character that must be studied in order to conduct and direct it advan- tageously, or it may be a slow, sluggish temj)era- ment which requires a skilful simplicity to develop it. In such a case, a child should have placed over him at home a thoroughly religious tutor, who has, joined to distinguished talent, tact and self-devotion. Such a specie of instruction would be, no doubt, of the greatest value. With these exceptions, it must be acknowl- edged that there are many inconveniences arising from j)i'i^^te instruction. If the child remain too long at home, his advance- ment will be retarded and weak, for the want of some active stimulant. He will be wanting in zeal, he will be in danger also of becoming too reticent and timid. Above all, will parents have PUBLIC EDUCATION. 7S sufficient firmness to prevent this manner of in- struction from degenerating into effeminacy by too much indulgence ? Such are some of the relative advantages and inconveniences in fol- lowing this first mode of education. Public education has its own peculiar advan- tages. The college is a little community where the pre-eminence accorded to labor and merit is a disputed point. There you meet with encour- agement and success, as also reverses and defeats, and it is important that men being destined to social life should make an early apprenticeship. Emulation, provided it be wisely employed, may aid in the development of the intel- lect and stimulate zeal to labor. The charac- ters of children become yielding and flexible by associating habitually with others of the same age. The little caprices, the fancied necessities, too often tolerated perhaps by the excessive condescension of a mother, are insensibly effaced by continual contact with other wills, and frequent associations with masters of tact and self-devotion. One important advantage of a public education 74 EARLY TEARS. is the equality established among childi*en thus placed, without respect to the rank or fortune but which this world values so highly. It may be said that college life represents society as it should al- ways be, and sucli as it ought always to be, since the authority there is given into the hands of men rendered superior by experience, talent, science and character, — in fact, by all that constitutes marked merit, — and upon which the scholar's distinction may repose for his qualities of mind and heart. Besides, a child fonns friendships dm-ing his stay in these houses, which relations in future life may prove useful as well as agreeable. The friends of our youth, when they are virtuous and good, often hereafter, render us the greatest service. In our declining years these friends of our youth come again to rejoice our hearts — illu- minate by their sweet memories, tellino^ of frankness, innocence, and goodness. These advantages to be derived from a public education would seem to indicate this as the best choice for a young man to make. As a general proposition, we should say here, that it is not Y5 altogether the same thing for a joung woman ; at least we should be more cautious in giving it our approbation. A woman is not destined, like a man, to perform the duties of public life. God has called her to duties more modest, but not less useful, which she must exercise in the family circle. The family is the sphere of action reserved for the woman. It is her world. It seems, then, that from her earliest infancy she should receive instruction in the sphere to which she is called, and be taught by the salutary examples of her mother these duties to which one day she will have to turn her own attention. Nevertheless, it may be said that for educating the intellect some years passed in a religious school are ordinarily very profitable to a young woman. But, aside from the good results a public edu- cation may have, it is, notwithstanding, full of inconveniences. The child always finds herself isolated from her family. She is surrounded by companions, among whom may enter sometimes one who scatters pernicious influences, dangerous suggestions, perhaps, utter devastation. Evil Y6 EARLY YEARS. communicates itself so readily among children ! A few moments often is sufficient to blemish an innocence, which, surrounded by the most vigilant care, has been preserved for long years in the family. It is with children as with men, wherever a great number live in common, each with their prejudices, their inclinations and different characters, there are relations and contacts filled with danger. There exist for children perils in a public school, such as men encounter in the life of the world, only still greater because of the levity of their age. Is there not then a plan to conciliate all, and can we not unite the advantages of a public education to that of a private one? We are glad to quote here the sentiments of a gentleman of experience : " I have a decided leaning towards that sys- tem which leaves the larger part of education to the influence of the family. To justify such a decision in my mind and even to meet out praise for it with some complacency, I have a some- what extended experience and memories filled with pleasure. I have not words to express my HOME AND SCHOOL. Y7 happiness in recalling the events of more than thirty years, the days of my college life, having at the same time had the good fortune to pass this period in my home beside the paternal hearth. We went to the college to receive les- sons from our professors and returned from them with each recurring day's allotted task. ^ -K- -x- ^ -x- "Classes once commenced, the attention gener- ally increased, our zeal was animated by degrees, emulation began to kindle, study became all our ambition, and time passed without any care but to write our exercises and learn our lessons. Happy, careless youth, who will regret so soon that period which has passed for- ever, to be replaced by the pre-occupations of another age ! "The sound of the clock, imposing silence upon our masters, restored to us our joyous pas- times and unsealed our lips. We returned to the paternal roof, where we awaited a reproving look or an encouraging smile, according as we come to announce defeat or success, be it merited reproach, or commendation, our mother's heart ^8 EARLY YEARS. much more rejoiced than our own at a word of praise. "In the meantime the hour of work was come and received great encouragement from the example of my father. I made my studies un- der his eyes and while he was working assidu- ously himself. On fine days when I had finished my task, we went out into the blooming fields, in the cool valleys, in the wood filled with shade, to look for solitude and sweet repose. We read, we conversed, we spoke of our work, of our studies, the rewards they would merit and to prepare ourselves for the future. From time to time some grave thought found place amongst the thousand distractions of our walk, and I re- turned made happy by the events of the closing day, and ready to welcome with joy the coming one, — ^thankful for the spring-time and its flow- ers, glad for the summer and its fi-uitful harvest, while heaven smiled upon us with its azure blue, happy above all for that innocence of heart which I retained,less from ignorance of evil, than from the facility I found to resist it under the eyes of a christian father and virtuous CHOICE OF A SCHOOL. Y9 mother ! " {''Ideas upon Education^^ hy a Pro- fessor of Philosophy.) It is certain that there is nothing so agreeable and lovely as to be surrounded by family influ- ence, acting in union with college encouragement and advantages. But it is not always possible to employ these means. There are circumstances oftentimes which require children to be sent away from their parents, under the certainty of not being able to procure suitable instruction for them under home inflaences. In this case, there is one thing of sovereign importance, in fact a duty of the greatest gravity, and of which the consequences are incalculable : that is to choose with the utmost precaution a school in which to place your children. III. We do not wish here to enter into any details calculated to attack either persons or things. We mention no names, nor do we find fault with any particular instruction where the element of evil is well known to exist, where religion is not hon- 80 EARLY YEARS. ored, and where it does not form the basis of instruction, — withont which, a child cannot pre- serve its innocence, keep its manners pure, and practise the duties of christian piety. If such houses exist, most assuredly, it is not there that christian parents should bring up their children. They would be, I do not fear to say it, under a sacred obligation to look elsewhere for a school where an equally solid education is conducted on religious principles. ^'What do we do in our colleges?" says M. Saint Mare de Girardin ; '' IVe cultivate and develop the mind, but not the heart." Alas ! too often are not the mind and the heart in the saddest condition ? Is one seriously occu- pied with the cultivation of the intellect, when out of a class of iifty or sixty children eight or ten only receive attention, leaving the rest to follow as they may, because they have less facil- ity to learn and give less honor to their masters ? What becomes of the numerous children less favored by nature and neglected by their mas- ters, but who call for the most devoted zeal ? They assist evening and morning at their lessons, THE COLLEGE CHAPLALN". 81 and witness the progress of their happy rivals. To them their tasks are imposed as a punish- ment — their indiscretions are subjects of sar- casm and disdain, they live without emulation as without encouragement, and they soon lose all energy, and all hope of success. As to students who succeed through emulation, uninfluenced by religion and filled with pride, how often does it serve only to awaken in them an exaggerated ambi- tion. May they not be misled in life, and per- haps at some future day have reason to desj)ise their fraudulent crowns ! And the education of the heart, which is of the most importance, — what becomes of that ? One will say : But in colleges there are chap- lains ! There are chaplains ! To this assertion we feel almost unable to reply. Alas! Yes, for we fear to wound too deeply the feelings of those respectable Priests, who would act justly, but whose action is paralyzed. Do the pupils know this stranger in a black robe, who only appears to them on Sunday in the chapel, and Thursday in a chair which is 02 EARLY YEARS. located in an obscure stndy-hall, the habitual sojourn of dissipation ? Let ns listen to an old chaplain of "Henri lY College," Le P. Lacordaire : '' No one is more to be pitied than a college chaplain, the butt of suspicion from the lay masters, and unknown to the children, who never see him but at the altar. Without any tie of affection whatever, but sur- rounded by an atmosphere of cold restraint ; he walks like a sad shadow in a house of strangers. He is not a father, not a professor, not a domes- tic, nor a Priest speaking to man, with the inde- pendence of the faith. He holds an anonymous position almost invariably during the week days. He descends to the chapel on Sunday, and his flock is led into him. He scarcely recognizes a child amongst them ! " If through a reverent kindness he is not actu- ally mocked, he is left to pass with a sort of charitable pity, and provided the service be not too prolonged, the pupil will go out content, and this once only in eight days — for I do not speak of the office of Thursday, which costs but one- THE COLLEGE CHAPLAIN. 83 half hour of patience from the victims of a Uni- versity Mass. " In the interval the poor Priest strives to take away the child from his studies a short time, in order that he may say to him : 'Let peace be with you ! for I am one of those who seek the lost sheep of Israel, to give them life. Ego sum qui loq'iior tecum. Will you receive me, or must I go away?' The students make answer to the stranger, who speaks to them in whatever lan- guage seems best suited to his feelings, and takes his leave. In this manner days are succeeded by years. I say nothing of the detail of mischief - making or the designedly prepared humiliations, nor of the many accidental events which occur to him from persons and things. I attack the situation such as it is in itself. A Priest in the most unpretending parish is with his own. No person is forced to come to mass, and he knows his flock. He has seen their fathers die, and baptized their sons. He has done some good amongst the men in the midst of whom he lives. But to whom has a college chaplain been of service? He simply assists as 84 EARLY YEARS. a witness from heaven of the corruption of all that is most lovely in the world, and if by acci- dent he saves from vice some fortunate child, he sees him disappear at the end of a few days, and dares not even express regret, so apparent!}^ in- different must he appear." We think that Le P. Lacordaire would to-day essentially modify his opinions, which seem very severe, and we are happy to say that in the Uni- versity of France, as in the Lycees and colleges, the students receive a religious as well as secu- lar education. Poor children ! who are to be pitied, because, at this age they are tenderly inclined in all their affections to the charms of a pious life, and the joys of a pure con- science ! an inestimable treasure, by which the splendor of the greatest genius is effaced. There is an indefinable weariness, accompanied by pro- found eiinui in the accomplishment of religious duties, that are fulfilled only by the aid of a dry discipline, without soul, and which secretly are scorned and despised. When their studies are finished, many amongst them become entirely perverted, and we have IREELIGIOrS EDUCATION. 85 seen more than once Yoltaires at sixteen years of age, with the laugh of derision on the lips, and insult in the mouth. They laugh at all that re- ligion and morals consider the most sacred. Religion, which should be the entire founda- tion of education, "is there," says M. Dupan- loup, "like a weeping mother, to whom a suspi- cious and skeptical father has forbidden the privilege of giving religious instruction to her children, and she is forced to clasp them to her bosom in the secrecy of the domestic hearth, and there in a few measured and hurried mo- ments anxiously lavish upon them her lessons and counsels. In haste she delivers to them the dearest treasures of wisdom and love, with which her heart is filled." But alas, vainly ! Poor children ! for they do not know how to be grateful to her. The youngest amongst them have learned from the members of her household to laugh at her gray hairs. The most respectful do not understand her accents, and look upon her as a poor,unhappy stranger ! What a misfortune to have wished to secularize education to such a degree as to re- 6 86 EARLY YEARS. move that influence which should always be its soul aiul life ! Let one examine the physiogno- mies of children brought up without the relig- ious element, and one will see in the lines of the face the unequivocal indications of a deep rest- lessness of soul." IV. It is sweet and consoling to cast one's eyes about a college of young students instructed by profoundly religious men, in which duty and conscience are the great motives of life and ac- tion ! What an immense guarantee for the care which will be given to the mind, to the heart, in fact to the entire education ! above all if these men have embraced a state of life which devote them to every abnegation and sacrifice, indeed to all the immolation of a sacerdotal or relig- ious life. Then the transition is neither dan- gerous nor painful, for children to be withdrawn from the immediate influence of the family. It is indeed placed in'another family, but one which is found ^not less tender, not less devoted. "Maternal education, says M. de Lamartine, M. DE LAMAKTINE. 87 has given me expansion of soul, and filled me with sincerity and love. I fell from this height upon the cold, hard soil of a tumultuous school, peopled with 200 children, unknown, jesting, perverse and vicious ; governed bj unpolished buisquer and self-interested masters, whose polite but insipid language did not disguise from mj eyes for one day their indifference. "I held them in horror, and looked upon them as jailors. I passed the hours of recreation sad and alone in looking at them through the bars of a grating which enclosed the court-yard where I turned to look upon the heavens and wooded heights of the mountains of Beaujolai8,and sighed after the freedom and object images of happi- ness I had left there. The plays of my com- rades made me sad, and their features were re- pugnant to me. All breathed such an air of wickedness, deceit and corruption, that my heart bore in indignation. The morose state into which this sudden immersion, at the bottom of that sewer of children had thrown me, was such that the idea of suicide, of which I had never heard spoken, forcibly assailed me. 88 EAKLY YEARS. I remember to have passed days and nights in searching for some means by which I might end a life I could no longer support. This condition of mind never ceased for a moment all the time I remained in the honse,and after some months of this suffering, I resolved to escape." He did escape, but was followed, taken back, and put into confinement. Finally, the force of circumstances compelled them to return him to his mother's house. There he found again through the tenderness of his mother the joys of his early years, and this good mother pro- cured for him the inestimable blessing of a christian education. Let us listen still to the same author : "My mother placed me in a Jesuit college at Belley, upon the frontiers of Savoie, which then was held in high renown, not only in France but in Italy, Germany and Switzerland. In entering there, a few days only were sufficient to show me the dif- ference between an education venally sold to un- fortunate children, for the love of gold by these cunning teachers, and an education given in the M. DE LAMARTESTE. 89 name of God, and inspired by religious devo- tion, for which heaven only is the recompense. " I did not find mj mother there, but I found my God, purity, prayer and love, mingled with a sweet paternal vigilance, expressed in friendly, familiar tones of voice, by children loved and loving, whose faces bore the manifest mark of happiness. I had been soured and hardened, but here I was softened and Captivated. I adapted myself readily and willingly to the yoke, that these excellent masters knew how to render sweet and light. All their artifice consisted in interesting each one of us in the success of the school, and in managing us through our own will and by our own enthusiasm. " The smallest act of the masters and pupils seemed to be animated by the Divine Spirit, all our souls had found their wings, and leaped with natural flight towards the good and the beauti- ful. The most rebellious themselves were raised up and carried away in the general movement. It was thus that I was made what could be done for a man, not by thorough compulsion, but by inspiration. 90 EAELT YEARS. ''The religious sentiments which animated our masters, animated us also. Thev had the skill to render that sentiment sensible and amiable, and at the same time to create in our hearts a love for God. With such a lever in- troduced into our hearts, thej were enabled to accomplish all they desired. "As to the masters, they did not feign affec- tion for us. They loved us, as saints love their duties, as the laborer loves his work, as the proud love their pride. They commenced by making me happy, and ended by making me wise. Piety was re-animated in my soul, and became my mo- tive for zeal in my studies. I formed an intimate friendship with the children of my age, as pure, and as happy as myself, and these friendships made ue one family, so to speak." When a child has had the happiness of being brought up by a christian mother, it is a very painful transition to make, from the family to a college ; from the hearth of affection and piety, into the midst of selfishness and indifference. Permit us here to quote a very interesting page from the memoirs of Father Lacordaire : PERE LACORDAIEE. 91 "At ten years of age my mother obtained for me in the Lycee at Dijon a half-pay fellow-ship. I entered the college when the scholastic year had already two-thirds expired. Then, for the first time, the hand of sorrow seized hold of me, and in revealing itself to me, turned me towards God with impulses not only greatly increased in affection, but more decided and serious. From the first day my comrades took me for their laughing-stock or victim. I could not take one step that their brutality did not find secret means to attack me. For several weeks together even, I was deprived by violence of every kind of food except my soup and bread. "To escape this bad treatment, I went into the study hall during recreations, when that was pos- sible, and concealed myself there under a bench, that I might not be found by my masters or comrades. There alone, without protection, abandoned by all, I shed religious tears before God, offering him my earliest sufferings as a sac- rifice, and raising myself towards the cross of His Son by a very tender union. " Brought up by a strong and christian moth- 92 EABLY YEAB8. er, religion had passed from her breast into mine, as virgin's milk, without bitterness. Suf- ferings were transforming this precious liquor into manlj blood, which rendered me pure and made me in fact an infant martyr. ''My sufferings ceased at the vacation, and were not resumed at the re-opening of school, perhaps because they were wearied with perse- cuting me, or perhaps I may have merited this freedom from a less degree of innocence or candor. "At this time a young man came to the Lycee from twenty-four to twenty-five years of age, who had just left the Normal school, from whence he had been called to take charge of an elementary class. Notwithstanding I was not one of his pupils, he met me and took a fancy to me. He occupied two isolated rooms in the remote part of the establishment, and I was per- mitted to go there to carry on some part of my studies under his protection. Thus for three years he lavished upon me gratuitously the most assiduous literary care. Though I was a scholar of only sixteen years, he made me read a great PERE LACORDAIRE. 93 deal, and learn by heart tlie whole of Yoltaire, and Racine's tragedies, which he had the patience to hear me recite. A friend of letters, he tried to inspire me with a like taste; a man of rectitude and honor, he labored to make me amiable, chaste, sincere, and generous, as also to break down the effervesence of a nature that possessed but little docility. '' To him religion was a stranger. He never mentioned the subject to me, and I maintained the same silence towards him. If he had not been deprived of this precious gift of faith, he might have been the protector of my soul, as he was the good genius of my intelligence. But God, who had sent him to me as a second father and a true teacher, wished by permission of His providence that I might descend into the abyss of incredulity, to become better acquainted some day with the culminated glory of his revealed light. Monsieur Delahay, my venerated master, left me thus to follow the inclination which car- ried all my associates far away from religious faith, but which retained me upon the elevated 94: EABLY YEARS. summit of honor and literature, where he had staked his own life. ''The events of 1815 had a premature charm for me. He commenced the study of law. I have always appreciated his memory with every happy circumstance of my life. " I had made my first communion at the age of twelve in 1814. This was my last religious joy, and the last stroke of sunshine reflected from the soul of my mother upon my own. Soon the shadows began to deepen around me; a chilling darkness enveloped me on all sides and I no longer received from God through my con- science any signs of life. Being an ordinary scholar, no signal success marked the course of my first studies. My intelligence was lowered at the same time with my manners, and I walked in this way of degradation, which is the chas- tisement of disbelief and the great misfortune of reason. But suddenly, in rhetoric, the germs of which M. Delahay had deposited in my mind began to open, and crowns without number came at the close of the year to awaken my pride, much more than to recompense my labors. A PEKE LAGGED AIRE. 95 course of poor philosophy, without extent or depth, terminated the course of my classical studies." The time of Henri Lacordaire in the Lycee of Dijon, to be so written, left remembrances in his mind that were not effaced for a long time. His studious and serious character, his figure, even, thin and regular, added to features, with nicely accentuated lines, his large eyes, his forehead wide and open, above all the prodigious success of the last few years, had strongly impressed his young school-fellows. He was spoken of often as an industrious student and as a singularly gifted poet. It is said of him, in his time, that when the day scholars assembled under the porch before the opening of school, the little children would climb up upon the bars of the grating to see the boarders defile through the court, and in pointing out Henri Lacordaire, would exclaim : " There he comes ! Look, there he comes !" The memoirs continue : "In entering the law school at Dijon, I found once more the little house of my mother and the infinite charm of domestic life, with all its affection and modesty. 96 EAKLY YEAUS. There was nothing superfluous in her house. On the contrary, a severe simplicity, united to the most exact economy, was practised. In it was shed the perfume of an age no longer ours, and something holy that belonged to the virtues of a widowed mother of four children, seeing them already budding into youth. She was full of hope that she might leave behind her a genera- tion of honest people, and perhaps amongst them some men of distinction. "One only cloud of sadness gave pain to this blessed woman, and that was when she thought that not one christian child had she near her. !N'ot one of her children was able to accompany her to partake of the holy mysteries of religion." It is evidently of the highest importance to carefully select the best place in which to place a child, at this decisive age, which will exercise such a profound influence upon his entire life. Attention then and vigilance, O, mothers! If you place your childi*en in boarding-schools where religion is not regarded as the most neces- sary affair of instruction, the time is not far dis- tant when they will be corrupted and take on PERE LACORDAIRE. 97 and habituate themselves to the most shameful vice. For the most part men wliose conduct re- volts you and of whose principles you are afraid, have brought them from boarding-schools, where they' were placed to receive instruction, and which, so to speak, have incrusted their very bones. Mistrust your own innocence; it will be fatal to that of your children. Do not suffer your- self to repose m fanciful security, and regard as impossible the disorders that your heart is not capable of suspecting. It is to your husbands, that belongs the duty of taking the initiative and giving counsel in this matter. For would they wish that their children should see and hear, what the greater part amongst them have seen and heard in the days of their youth, in the schools where they have been reared and in- structed? Would they not love better to see them remain ignorant all their lives, than to have them taught the sciences at the risk and the loss of that which a man should consider the most precious ? In one of his letters to young people, Pere 98 EARLY YEAES. Lacordaire makes the following remarks to a young man brought up under christian influ- ences, and expresses great regret that the ele- ment of religion is not made the basis of educa- tion : " You have now under your eyes the result of another education than the one you have re- ceived. The absolute want not only of religion but of elevated ideas : an abject materialism, an inexpressible debasement of mind. Be not astonished if you meet young Protestants whose faith and reason are in a better state, for as there are good Catholics, so there are sincere Protest- ants. It is probable that those of whom you speak to me have been brought up under the family influence, or in some conservative manner have received the same favor as yourself. Hu- manly speaking, it may be that the Protestant faith is easier to follow than our own, precisely because in a great part it is human, outside the common moral law, and requires only those sacri- fices easy to carry. Certainly in this is to be found one of the supports of Protestantism. It gives religion in little doses ; that which is suit- PEEK LACORDAIRE. 99 able to minds, for whom religion is too little, and for whom the true faith is too much. "Let us then never forget the influence of ex- ample, at all periods of life so powerful, and above all, in' the period of youth, which is nat- urally more imitative. "If the men who sur- round a child are pious, full of dignity and amiable, that child will burn with a desire to resemble them, and moreover will rise to their level. If they are irreligious, unrestrained and unamiable, the child imbued with their errors and their vices, will be as detestable as them- :Selves." — Devoirs des hommes^par Silvio Pellico. CHAPTEK Y. THE INTELLIGENCE. I. The title of this chapter presents to us a dis- tinction of sovereign importance in the question which occupies us. What we call education of the intelligence ought not to be confounded with instruction. Instruction is the effect produced by teaching, enseignement, which latter word derives its meaning from one or two Latin words : ''^signumn^'^ sign, mark, imprint, or the verb : ''^signa/pe^'' to engrave. The meaning of the word thus is : to engrave or make an impres- sion on the mind of the one instructed, and it indicates that he learns ; that is to say that he takes in some manner by his retentive memory the object of the lesson. That lesson, lection^ (lecUo^ from the Latin word Hegere^^ to collect, to amass), contains only the thing learned. All these collected elements, in explanations and INSTKITCTION AND EDUCATION. 101 books, that is to say in the lessons, develop in- struction, a word derived from the Latin verb ^Hnstruere^^^ which means to re-nnite, heap nj),reg- nlate, because to instruct implies the construction of an intellectual edifice, in which the master performs the role of architect, re-uniting, laying up, and disposing the materials which are to compose this scientific edifice, and by the aid of which he is about to form and develop the mind. Instruction and education are two things entirely distinct. Instruction provides the intel- lect and memory with a certain quantity of knowl- edge, and in that view it is only a means of edu- cation. That is so true that a savant may be a man whose intelligence is not completely formed. In fact, how many men there are who possess a great fund of knowledge, but otherwise have no judgment, are without taste, slow to compre- hend, unable to comprehend with any clearness, or to express their thoughts with perspicuity, and have no facility in composition ! Such, for example, are scholastics, and those who are noth- ing but crudities. Kichardson says : "A class of savants who bury themselves in books, dragging 7 102 THE INTELLiaENCE. themselves along amidst the rubbish of the dead languages, without showing one spark of orig- inal knowledge. Thej pass all their lives in a store-house of quotations, able, perhaps, to write notes and commentaries upon the texts of others, but whose whole glory con- sists in knowing the beauties of two thou- sand years ago in a foreign tongue, that they can only admire but never imitate in their own." These men have read much and learned much, but their minds are not formed or elevated. Let us on the contrary look upon a man whose intelligence has been cultivated. Without doubt he will be familiar with but few subjects,but as his mind has been mucli better disciplined, fash- ioned, and formed, with these few subjects, he will, as the result proves, be much more capable of learning and understanding new things when they come to be presented to his mind. The word intelligence has an etymology which explains this idea well. It signifies ^'ifihis legere^^ to read within, to have the ability to penetrate that which should be revealed to others ; in a word it expresses the power to com- prehend, to judge, and to appreciate. MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 103 The error of many persons is to mistake no- tions about the studies of young people; the end proposed is not merely to obtain knowl- edge,but to learn how to exercise themselves in it. They ought not to attach so much importance to the learning of Latin and Greek, literature, philosophy, or even history — studies which the yoimg will perhaps forget ; but they should fortify their mind, memory, judgment and intel- ligence, for all of their faculties will remain un- changed. A young man will have made his studies well, if he has been developed up to the point where he will be able to instruct himself. " It is nothing," says Yanvenargues, "to be ig- norant of many things, if at the same time you are capable of receiving them, and all that is wanting is to learn them." How a master deludes himself in crowding the head of a young student with a multitude of studies without interesting him sufficiently in the only desirable result, which should be the development of the faculties, and to form men of intelligence ! It is very evident that when the subjects of 104 THE INTELLIGENCE. study become too numerous, the foundation will crumble and the intellect be destroyed. How ean the mind be at ease under such a rubbish of knowledge, badly collected and ill compre- hended ? At most only a mass of erudition will be acquired, without system or regularity. His instruction will often be like a library in disor- der, where numerous volumes of diverse works are thrown together pell-mell, of which the pro- prietor has not learned to make use. From thence comes all those '* demi-savants," some- times men of passable depths of mind, but very feeble intellects. Plato has said : "Absolute ignorance is not the greatest of evils, nor the most to be feared. Much knowledge, ill directed, is something worse." And Bossuet, in speaking of the education of the Dauphin, said : "Our principal care has been to give him all these things appropriately, and each one of them in its time, that he might digest them easily, that they might become suitably nourishing." But by the precipitate means in present use, CLASSICAL STUDY. 105 will one ever arrive at extensive knowledge ? 'No, because in order that instruction may be extensive and solid, it is necessary that the mind should be rendered capable to learn. Otherwise, as Yanvenargues says : " It is easier for us to tinge the mind with an infinity of knowledge than to thoroughly possess a small amount." The general complaint is, in latter years especially, of the comparatively long time given to the classical studies, believing that studying the grammar of the Latin and Greek languages, the principal and model languages of literature, ought not to occupy so much time in a man's life. Eight years to make the man a scholar in rhetoric ! What a loss of time ! And then he may not be able after this long and painful study, to obtain a perfect testimonial, in order to enter on the career to which he believes himself called. If in the course of studies, one result only is sought, "to become a bachelor of arts," we must confess that eight years are as a period of pre- paration, infinitely too long, and that in a much shorter time the desired result might be obtained. 106 THE INTELLIGENCE. But the end we propose is so different in con- ducting a scholar through this long laborious and painful way of instruction ! One has not only in view for him to go through his classes, but to make his studies, which is a very different thing. There is not only the desire to instruct, but a wish first of al] to form, develop, and elevate his intelligence. How many scholars have passed eight consecutive years of their lives in these halls, over the door of which can be read these words : " Eighth class," " Seventh class," '' Sixth class," etc. ; and are finally hap- pily arrived to that of rhetoric. They have passed their examinations, and have been given the written attestation to the fact, but have they mastered their studies ? Is their intelligence formed ? Have they become entirely capable to learn ? And, amongst them, how many will you find answering to this description, alas ! but too faithfully delineated in these words of Daguessean : " To think little, to speak not at all, to ques- tion nothing, to inhabit only the exterior of the soul and to cultivate superficially his mind; to THE HUMANITIES. 107 fly, from subject to subject, without analysing one, rapidly culling all the flowers and never giving to the fruit time to arrive at maturity: this is a tame picture of what in our day one is pleased to honor with the title of intelligence ! And, yet, is it not a great indulgence accorded to our young people, that have been so neglect- fully instructed, but by the world are called in- telligent ? Where do we see the develop- ment of the mind in these souls ? M'me de Sevigne once called them 'Little prodigies at fifteen, and veritable simpletons all the rest of their lives ! ' I repeat, have the humanities, thus called because their office is to discipline the man, disciplined this child, who has thus degen- erated under their touch ? Have his faculties acquired large development ? Alas ! every day verifies the contrary by living and deplorable answers to the question ! It is for this reason we insist upon the point that it is necessary to labor less to instruct them than to educate the intellect." n. One should not estimate the studies made by the young alone by the degree of knowledge 108 THE INTELLIGENCE. they are able to give, for evidently that is of small importance ; we must consider the end to be attained. The knowledge acquired is not supposed to be very extended, nor very pro- found, but they form the scholar in employing principally for that end the study of the lan- guages and literature, and in habituating young people gradually to the exercise of translation, analysis, copying, and of literary compo- sition; all of which are admirably adapted to attain the end proposed, which is the develop- ment of the intellect. The man is made what he should be, pre- eminently through the medium of thoughts and words. For this reason study ought to cultivate in the young this double power, and looking for- ward to that result, should be placed at an early hour in a situation to taste and imitate the works of men who have given to their thoughts and words the most perfect expression. But why study Latin and Greek ? Why those translations and those difficult rudiments? Cannot the intellect of children be suf- ficiently developed without haAdng recourse to THE CLASSICS USEFUL. 109 the ancient languages ? Then thej are the dead languages, they are never spoken ; why then must they be learned ? and, finally, the reply is sometimes made — My son is to be a commercial man, in which case this study of the languages will be perfectly useless. It is not always that the like objections are expressly made, be- cause one desires to resist the imposing authori- ties of the age, and of men best versed in the affairs of education ; but, at best, the study of the ancient languages is submitted to, as a lamentable necessity. This is a gross error ; for whatever may be the career chosen in life for the child, provided his rank, means, and time, will permit, the study of the ancient languages will be eminently useful to him, in introducing him to the most beautiful monuments of the mind and of language, and will dispose him to rise to the most serious studies, -and more especially to the exigencies of his vocation. We must not judge of a translation by the momentary result that it produces. You will often see phrases very ill translated, but one must look to the effect, of the end, the future. Besides, a work translated 110 THE INTELLIGENCE. with care gives perspicuity and flexibility to the mind; to the thoughts, vigor and simplicity; to the style, that clearness, that conciseness, in not saying too much or too little, which fur- nishes food to the reader without satiety, and occupies the mind without fatiguing it. The most capable men, geniuses the most celebrated, are formed by this slow and difiicult exercise. Without speaking of the ancients, Balzac passed thirty years in translating Guinte-Curce ; Pierre Corneille translated : " L'Imitation de Jesus Christ"; Boileau, "Le Traite du sublime," of Longin; Jean Racine, "Les Hymnes du breviaire romain," "Le Banquet de Platon," etc.; Moliere translated, "Lucrece"; J. J. Rous- seau, "Tacite"; La Harpe, "Les Cesars de Sue- tone," and " La Lusiade de Camoens," etc. At the close of his life, Bossuet, during an illness, and while still in bed, translated the Psalms into French verse. Previous to this, he had trans- lated many extracts from profane authors. We could give many more such quotations. One translation well done is always an evidence of accuracy of mind, of rectitude in the judgment, TRANSLATION. Ill of purity and taste in style. Nothing is easier than to amplify and make phrases, but nothing is more empty or insignificant ; while an exact translation, easy and elegant, infallibly denotes a solid and cultivated mind. And besides, by this exercise one learns to know much better the genius, mechanism, and beautiful construc- tion of his own tongue, because all this forms an indispensable unity in the work; and then the "chefs-d'oeuvre" of antiquity are the sources from whence all our beautiful modern literature flows. Amongst the languages which are used to trans- late from, those of which the knowledge is the best adapted to educate the intellect, those that have always appeared the most proper to perfect in young people these two great human facul- ties, thought and speech, are evidently first with the mother tongue, then the Latin and Greek. I say, with the mother tongue, for, it is well un- derstood that the knowledge of this tongue and the literature of the country to which one be- longs should occupy the first rank in our studies. As for the last two, says M. de Maistre: "JN'oth- ing equals the dignity of the Latin tongue ; it 112 THE INTELLIGENCE. was spoken bj the peuple-roi, wliicli stamped that character of grandeur in the history of human nature, that the most perfect modern tongue has not been able to grasp. It is also the language of civilization, mixed with that of our barbarian fathers; it has been able to refine, to make plastic, and so to speak, spiritualize those gross idioms which have be- come what we see them to-day." We may add also that Latin is the tongue of science, the mother tongue of the French, and of almost all the modern languages, and finally, the language of the Catholic Church. It is important to remark here that children have a natural predisposition, a singular aptitude for the study of the languages. The flexibility •of their minds, the promptitude of their memories, render it easy for them to understand and to remember a multitude of terms, the rules and details of which we must fear sometimes, are too much for them. "I showed a decided taste for the languages," said Monsieur de Chateau- hriand; "the rudiments cost me but little to learn; I awaited the hour of my Latin lesson as a THE GREEK LANGUAGE. 113 relaxation from my signs and figures in geome-- trj."^ If we wish now to examine the title upon which the Greek tongue relies for support as the source of the classical tongues, we shall have no less brilliant qualities to recognize in it. The following quotation from Rollin will show what, importance the savants of Europe have attached to the study of Greek. " I would wish," says RoUin, "that the eyes, the ears, the tongue, the memory, the mind, all combined, might lead young people to the knowledge of the Greek." "Every language revolves in gold," said an author.^ That is true, especially of the one of which we speak. Born in a country, the bright- est and richest, it had, from the commencement, those germs of beauty of which the develop- ments were extraordinary. Cultivated by the most illustrious writers, it received from each age new embellishments. Poets, orators, historians, philosophers even, all sought to out- vie each other to adore and glorify it by all the (1) Memoires d'outre-tombe. (2) Pensees de Jubert. 114 THE INTELLIGENCE. pomp and magnificence tliat art and genius could bring. It does not enter into our plan to develop at this time these discoveries. It is sufiicient to recall the rights of the Latin and Greek lan- guages to the place accorded to them, after the mother tongue, in the study of the classics. III. After translation we have placed analysis, imi- tation and composition. It is easy to compre- hend the sovereign utility of each. By literary analysis, the scholar learns to discern, to judge, to taste the beauties diffused through the ancient and modern "chefs-d'oeuvre." He learns to esteem those great writers who have formed our beautiful French tongue, and who, inheriting the most beautiful models of antiquity, have de- tached from them the delicate, brilliant, and sweet flowers with which they have enamelled the field of our literature. He learns especially to stand aloof from that detestable romance v^hich involves every subject. He disdains those light productions from the substance, even to MODERN ROMANCE. 115 the form, which removes every restraint, looking onlj for the most piquant news, and have no other merit than that of flattering the bad tastes of the age which produces them as also the passions of those who read them. When a young man draws from the analysis of modern classics a sincere admiration for great writers and a pro- found distaste for romance, he will not have lost his time, because, in his literary works the impres- sion is left, and is founded on a deeper basis than one thinks. The true, the good, the beau- tiful, are very intimately united. "For the per- fection of our literarj' work, we cannot attach too great importance to virtue. It is beauty of sentiment that makes beauty of style. When the soul is elevated, words fall from on high, and noble expressions always follow noble thoughts."^ Also, when literary purity changes in a notable manner, as we see in certain modern works so generally read, it is the spirit of the people, which is its strength, that is enfeebled and corrupted — this is a sign of moral (1) Chateaubriand, Melanges Litteraires. 116 THE INTELLIGENCE. niin ! It is then, more than ever, that a solid christian education is powerful and necessary to reanimate little by little the condition of health- ful literature and make it shine in all its glory. This analysis of literary beauties admirably pre- pares the way for imitation; the name only is sufficient to reveal its utility. " She chooses, she imprints here the idea, there the turn, elsewhere only the taste. If some en- tire passage might appear to her a good prize, she carefully effaces the theft, and what she has thus appropriated without violence, she makes to appear as her own."^ "To imitate a writer," says Marmontel,"i8 not to translate his writings, or servilely copy them. It is, in the most restricted sense, to understand the thought and translate it with freedom ; it is, in the most extended sense, to form his mind, his language, his habits to conceive, to imagine, to compose upon a model with which one feels some analogy. Imitation in itself is only a for- warding towards composition. From her all the intellectual faculties commence their assent; (1) Patin, Melange, de Litteraire. LITERAKT STYLE. IIT tlie mind begins to fructify, the imagination to en- rich itself, in the attempt to acquire delicacy, grace, and judicious elegance. It is here that the scholar is to be initiated in the precious and diffi- cult art of writing well. Then, to write well, signifies to think well, to have good perceptions and power of expression ; it is to have at the same time intellect, soul and taste ; style supposes the reunion and the exercise of all the intellect- ual faculties. The style is the man. • Yes, it is especially by literary composition that the intelligent man forms himself, the art to describe, without fatiguing with useless de- tails, the art to narrate, in varying the narra- tion by an agreeable style, thus adroitly sustain- ing the interest ; finally, the art to persuade, in giving to a discourse all the force of tnith, at the same time all the prestige of elegant lan- guage. This is, without doubt, a beautiful and rich career. In the meantime, I have made no especial reference to poetry, a fruitful source, an inexhaustible source of all that ele- vates the mind, charms the heart, delighting (1) Buffon. 8 118 THE INTELLIGENCE. man by the sweetest pleasures, and awakening in him the bright sparks of genius. Poetry — daughter of heaven, soul of all inspirations in literature and art, who would not love it ? Who would not enjoy this pleasure by studying the "chefs-d'oeuvres" of the poets? Ordinarily, the proper time to gratify one's taste in this charming study, is during the time spent in the second class. "There is no period of life more poetic than in the fresh affections of a heart of sixteen years. The morning of life is like the morning of the day, full of purity, full of imagination and harmony."^ It is very evident that we speak here of that poetry which draws its impressions from the pure sources of truth and religion. "True poetry in its essence is chaste and pious; we speak now of its position ; for its natural place holds it raised above the earth, and brings it in contact with heaven. From there, like the im- mortal spirits, she sees the souls, the thoughts, and but little of the bodies."^ Then let ub quote the words of a poet who should have been (1) Chateaubriand, Renie. (2) Pensees de Joubert. POETRT. 119 able to follow more faithfully the precepts he was giving : ''Lyre, ilfaut de ces chants sublimes, Dont tons les echos sont au del ! " — Victor Hugo. Many imagine that the study of letters dimin- ishes the aptitude for that of the sciences. How many ilhistrions names could we produce here to prove the contrary ! These two species of study have for their object to develop, in a just man- ner, the intelligent man, and to place him where he can at the same time comprehend, discover, and taste the true and beautiful, wherever found. " It is not true that science is exacting and poetry is exclusive. The deep, cold thoughtful- ness that the sciences require from observation, should not make a man believe that he is per- fect, when he has extinguished within himself all the glow of imagination, or when he has quenched the sentiment of poetry."^ We will make in the meantime this observation : "Cer- tainly, poetry is beautiful, but it should not find place in business."^ It is not unusual to hear (1) Silvio Pellico, Devoirs des hommes, chap. 14. (2) Chateaubriand, ** Melanges Littiraires." 120 THE INTELLIGENCE. the remark : Literary people are little qualified to manage business. " Strange thing, that the talent necessary to produce the spirit of the laws, is in- competent to conduct the bureau of a minister ! What ! those who so easily probe the depths of the human heart would not be capable of unrav- eling the intrigues of passion by which they are surrounded ! " N^othing could pursuade me that Bossuet had not a head capable to conduct a Kingdom, or that the judicious Boileau might not have made an excellent administrator. Judgement and good sense are the two qualities above all necessary to a statesman ; but let us observe these two traits must be controlled by a head whose intellect is healthfully organized."^ When one understands the real design of literary studies, which is to perfect the intellect and the language by the attentive consideration of the most beautiful passages of poetry, elo- quence, wisdom and genius; when one thinks to place a studious youth in the school of the poets of the greatest sublimity, of the most pro- (1) Chateaubriand, "MManges Litteraires. " PREMATURE MATHEMATICS. 121 found philosophy, the wisest moralists, for any other purpose than to form and enrich the mind, to ornament the imagination, to ennoble the heart and give to the entire sonl a generons ad- vance towards what is beautifnl and good, it is very difficult to explain this kind of disgust to which the study of the classics, for the moment, appears to be subjected. IV. However, we are frank to avow that several things have contributed to throw upon these studies a lamentable discredit. For examj)le, it is evident to all men who reflect upon the sub- ject, that the system adopted in the larger part of our colleges is in no wise proper to develop the intellect of young people. First of all, it is because they tend to force, and in some sense to do violence, to the young and still weak mind. This difficulty arises principally in two ways : By the premature study of mathematics, and an ex- cessively prolonged time given to the study of history. It is easy to conceive that the premature study of mathematics is an intellectual restraint, often 122 THE INTELLIGENCE. deplorable. In fact, let us observe the steps that the faculties of the child take in order to develop themselves. The first to appear is the memory, then the imagination reveals itself, finally the moral sensibilities. Nothing yields later fruit in childi*en than the study of purely abstract ideas such as, for example, one presented in the study of mathematics. In a word, reflec- tion with them is weak, the judgment has been little exercised, and to reason is found very diffi- cult. Yery well, take this child, and, in place of cultivating its mind in the way its budding faculties seem to direct or require, you throw it into mathematics, speak to him of that sub- ject morning and evening, all the time in fact, take away from him all that would please his young joyous imagination, all that would orna- ment his memory, cultivate his taste, and de- velop the sensibility of his heart, in giving to him the geometrical letters and figures : what will be the result ? You will make one more mathematician, perhaps ; but will you not have one man the less ? quel dommage ! to dwarf EXCESSIVE MATHEMATICS. 123 thus, under these trifling algebraic formulas, a young intellect, capa]:>le, perhaps, to taste and produce beautiful and good things ! But, says one, mathematics teaches us to reason, and also helps to form our judgment. Yes,it may have that effect, but only when used with becoming tact and prudence, and adapted to the dispositions of those receiving instruction. You will be aston- ished, perhaps, to hear what Descartes says upon this subject : "• The study of mathematics ren- ders one unflt for the study of philosophy." But this astonishment ceases when we recall the sense in which Pascal ridicules the geometricians, who are nothing but geometricians, finding them "ridiculous, false, and insupportable." He is right; mathematics is useful, as a means of educating the intellect, only so far as it does not bury the young minds under a weight that for the present it is incapable to carry. Fenelon did not wish the Duke de Bourgoyne to apply him- self too closely to mathematics, for fear an indef- initely long period of time might be lost in vain researches, and he be made singular in his man- ners. Still, it is said, the times require haste. 124 THE INTELLIGENCE. Schools are established especially to meet this exigency. Yes, very well ; but these exigencies are precisely the more to be regretted. The period of admission into these schools shonld be delayed until the intellect of the child can be sufficiently formed ; it is always a thing truly unfortunate to see adopted a system advancing the study of arithmetic before the appropriate time. It has been asserted, but without sufficient reason, that the science of figures, more than all others, gives the judgment that rectitude and solidity which it necessarily requires. It teaches the art to reason just in the order of the ideas in which it holds a part ; but when a place is given to it above its just claim in the process of education, it places the mind in a false posi- tion, in relation to ideas of an elevated order, and often incapacitates the mind for such application. It is evident, that so far as concerns the imagina- tion, taste, or moral sensibilities, the study of mathematics is singularly injurious. This result is easy to comprehend, for it seems to participate of the nature of which it expresses the principal laws, and like them is impenetrable, and ren- TOO MUCH HISTORY. 125 ders inaccessable to all other objects the place it occupies; so mathematics often shut out from all other orders of ideas, the mind which makes this study its exclusive occupation. Permit us to quote here a very judicious remark that was made by M. de Chateaubriand, and apply it not only to mathematics, but equally to the physical and natural sciences, when they are not taught with discretion : " Independently of other dangers that follow the exclusive study of the sciences, it nourishes much more pride than the study. of letters." V. Another excess into which we have fallen, is the great length of time devoted to the study of history, at an age when the simple elements alone are sufficient. Here, let us not confound the means with the end. The study of history is only a means used for the education of the intellect. It is of but little importance to a young man to stupefy his mind in trying to re- tain a multitude of names, and dates, of every country and all times, if his only object is sim- ply to make himself peculiar with them. How 126 THE INTELLIGENCE. many vonng men, after having received tlie degree of Bachelor of arts, have confessed that in this rapid and superficial study of history, they Jiave only found the memory wearied out with useless labor, which a few months have been sufficient almost entirely to efface ! In the meantime, what is to be done ? the programme is there, it ought to suffice, and how- ■ever comprehensive the manual might be, one still frets that something is wanting. We are far from disputing the importance of historic studies, but it should not become an alfair sim- ply of the memory. We know it is necessary that history should be studied at an age when the memory is active and tractable. Riper age will make use of these memories collected in youth ; it will be a treasure acquii-ed easily, not only, but will produce a rich harvest at a more advanced period of life, when it will cost more effort to learn than to reflect. But if your object is to retain the facts, the mind should not be too crowded ; one must know how to choose, to fix in the mind and to reason upon these subjects, and not charge the programme in' such a man- HISTORY THE STUDY OF MAN. 127 ner as to make it evidently impossible for young people to accomplish their tasks. History will not be made useful in its presentation of a mass of facts and dates only. Its greatest utility consists in placing before us a picture of human life, the history of man. Let us listen to Montaigne, who says to us, with that good sense for which he is distinguished, why he loves history. "It is,'' says he, ''because, man in general, whom I seek to know, appears there more life-like and entire than in any other place." He adds, in regard to the facts of his- tory and above all those of the lives of cele- brated men, somewhat detailed, which are those which engage his attention, and which he finds the most attractive and useful : " Those who write biography, and in proportion as they amuse themselves more with the counsels than the events, more with that which emanates from within, than that which happens from without, are those best adapted to my taste ; for this rea- son Plutarch's Lives are in every resj^ect ])est suited to me." Independent of the philosophical view of 128 THE INTELLIGENCE. the knowledge of man, history, when it is thoroughly taught, may also be useful in the following relations : It seryes as a comple- ment to literary studies, in making known the spirit of nations and the epochs where the works of great men haye been composed, also the facts which haye called for these compositions. It also furnishes explanations of a great number of allusions one meets with in the writings of ora- tors, poets, and literary men,and contributes great- ly to a good understanding of monumental art. It presents the history of the deyelop- nients of the arts and sciences, the series and connection of discoyeries which haye been made in them. It giyes us a moral lesson by brand- ing crime and honoring yirtue, in unyeiling the vanity of the things of this world, of which she nar- rates the yicissitudes. Finally, it gives useful les- sons in politics, and it is of still greater service to social and philosophical sciences in exposing the facts upon which they establish their specula- tions. It results from all this that the study of history may present very strong claims to use- fulness, but only when taua'ht conformably to MORAL INKLUENCE OP' HISTORY. 129 the spirit of education, which desires that all advancement be made progressively, with mod- eration, and in a seasonable manner. Its indispensable organ is literature, wliicli gives to recital clearness, charm and interest. It is important above all that a young man should acquire from history an acquaintance with the great deeds which connect themselves with re- ligion, and with those which compose the annals of this country. In this connection one can say that history contributes to the moral education by making known and cultivating love of re- ligion and country. It is in presenting these facts to thp minds of young people, that they are taught to draw, from the noblest examples, respect for law, attachment to authority, also a desire to be of service to their country, and fin- ally, to honor their names some day by their devotion and virtue. Truly such a study is very precious. At the same time it is through the ordinary course that he will bo able to collect with intel- ligence these ideas, facts, and narrations ; in a word, the elementary knowledge furnishes the 130 THE INTELLIGENCE. young man with tlie true meaning of history. It will be time for him to be taught by patient inves- tigation, by scrupulous researches into the sources, in order to disenthral his mind from the preju- dices of passed histories, so as to arrive at an im- partial certainty with regard to the truth. One can comprehend what service may be rendered to a young man, at a moment when his thoughts are ripening, in occupying his mind, when his reflecting powers are in process of development, with those serious studies which they allow in his- tory to be truths, and w^hich is named the mis- tress of human life. VI. After all we have already said upon the edu- cation of the intellect, it is easy to conclude that the end proposed especially is the de- velopment of the faculties, in order to form the child. In that, as in all other parts of edu- cation, what one does is little, what one proposes to do is everything. For this reason we should advance with moderation, prudence, and wise deliberation. What will be gained by pre- cipitate effort ? You might force the proverb- RELIGION THE END OF STFDT.. 131 ially rebelloiis intellect, and break it down. But you would not form it. In this way the child is inspired with disgust, because you desire to obtain from his intellect more than it can give. Many parents, in view of the future,, through desire to force their children to greater activity in their studies, have produced the most unfortunate results. "I know fathers," says Plu- tarch, "who are real enemies to their children.. So ambitious are they to see them make the most rapid progress and obtain in their studies an extraordinary superiority, that they surcharge them with work, the weight of which breaks them down. The result is a discouragement that renders the sciences odious to them. Plants, moderately watered, grow readily, while too much water drowns the germ ; so the soul noui'- ishes and fortifies itself by well directed in- dustry, the excess of which overcomes and ex- tinguishes the faculties." Pascal's father acted more wisely; his principle was always to hold the child superior to his work. The most important step in educating the in- tellect, is to place at the summit of instruction. 132 THE INTELLIGENCE. the great and serious study of religion. For as there is nothing more indispensable to the happi- ness of this life, so nothing is more capable of elevating and ennobling the intellect. What is more, this religious instruction should not be confined only to certain hours, and entirely sep- arated from literary instruction. Children have been taught about Greece and Rome too exclu- sively. They return from their classical exile with the mind so filled with memories of these two peo- ples, they are like strangers to everything else. Are there then no other beauties to admire but those which are found in the harmonious lan- guage of the Pagans ? Without entering here into the great discussion of the abuse that has been made of this subject in one sense or an- other, and of a choice too exclusive, we will sim- ply say that, without disregarding the important place that the ancient classical and profane studies should occupy, we nmst not neglect to give a becoming place either to the study of ecclesiastical antiquities. The writings of the Latin and Greek fathers are filled by more than one species of beauty. Let one collect from EELIGIOUS WETTING. 133 Tertullien, Cjprien, Lactance, Ambroise, Augus- tine, Jerome, etc., and one will see if there is not enough to be drawn from ecclesiastical an- tiquity to weave the most brilliant crown ! Also, let us examine the writings of Gregory, of Maz- ianzan, of Basil, of Chrysostome, and see if a thousand beauties of the first order will not ap- pear to the eyes of a man of impartial mind and taste ! But must we neglect the study of Pagan authors, even with the precaution that a Christian education prescribes ? That will appear difficult, if not impossible, when we think of the unanimous admiration they excite even up to the present time, and especially of the immense utility that the most distinguished men and greatest genuises of Christianity have drawn from them. That which is necessarily first of all, is to procure masters sincerely Christian. They will seize hold of the beautiful and the good wherever they may be found, be it even amongst the Pagans. And while an irreligious master would glance over per- fidious incredulity, even in translating the Bible, these religious masters will know, by their spirit 13tt THE LNTELLIGENCE. of faith, liow to Christianize the most profane studies. The essential point is that a religious element in some degree ]3ervades the atmosphere of all instruction, indeed. Religious truths should have a place in everything. They form the array of light which shines at the same time in philosophy, history, science, letters, and art, and they alone find in everything the splendor of truth, and that sacred fire of love from which every good eminates. Alas ! Christianity is ill known to-day ; espec- ially is this true of men of letters ! It is giving instruction to the rising generation, that will restore the study of religion to the place of honor in the mind and heart. A child must know what religion is to love it. The more he knows of it, the more his heart will become inseparately attached to it. Let, then, this instruction be not only di fused over, but blended with all the rest, and even let it be made the object of a special course, superior to all others, and sur- rounded with all the religious dignity, with all the display, and with all the attention that such a great subject merits. THE CATHOLIC RELIGION. 135 Maj this special instruction lastingly engrave in the memory of the child the mysteries of this doctrine, which has for the mind some obscuri- ties mingled with much that is clear and beauti- ful; the laws of their evangelical moral, which is a wholesome restraint, but sweet and light to carry; the rights and ceremonies of that wor- ship, which speaks so eloquently to the heart in addressing itself to the senses and imagination ; the history of this church, which has its obscuri- ties and aj)parent decadence,but which survives,se- rene and calm through all storms and revolutions. "For me," said an Angelican clergyman, after his conversion, "from the day I first entered the Eoman church, I found myself like a man who had shaken off the bands that had held him cap- tive from his youth. I felt for the first time the plenitude of my liberty giving life to the faculties of my soul, and I felt as an eagle that for the first time leaps from his serial nest, flying with assured wing through limitless space. In this manner, did my reason, elevated by free and un- wavering flight, contemplate with happiness that vast and harmonious religious system, which 136 THE INTELLIGENCE. alone amongst all the religions of the earth, is what it ought to be — nothing more, nothing less. " I contemplated this imposing assemblage of doctrine and morality by which all is held, as by a chain surrounded by as immutable laws as those of gravity to the earth. The more I considered them, the more I was charmed and strengthened in my faith, and if I am enslaved, it is by the truth I am subjugated, and if I am fascinated, it is by the irresistible brilliancy of a beauty without spot."^ The young student should study to make himself so well acquainted with the princi- ples of Christianity, that henceforth he may neither amidst the distractions of the world nor in the vehemence of passion be able to forget them. This knowledge of religion should be suffi- ciently well grounded and intelligent to meet all arguments proposed to him by Pagans and those ignorant of its first principles, who are too numerous in the world, and who know little of (1) J. Moore Capes, of Oxford University, former pastor of St. John Baptist church, at Bridgewater. Four years experience in the Catholic religion. DISBELIEF FROM IGNORANCE. 137 Christianity outside the name. It should be im- possible for him to be confounded by the paro- dies and burlesques to which religion is sub- jected, and which in our day disperses ignorance, passion, interest, and bad faith. The first cause of disbelief and doubt is ignorance. It is impossible to fathom the extent of religious ignorance, and there is not a man amongst us who does not believe that he himself is quite competent to judge of its principles. This decision is formed in college, ordinarily from the age of 13 to 15 years ; this same condi- tion of mind, with little or no change in char- acter, often continues through youth into riper years, not only, but not frequently until even to death ; who has not known a scholar in advanced years to declare his total disbelief ? "To whom is that student unknown, who, having arrived at the age of reason, did not declare frankly he had no longer any religious belief ? For him, mas- ters, parents, church and tradition, great men, great authors, and great ages, Bossuet and Fen- elon, Pascal and all the others, — all these are to him but a lie, foolish superstition and darkness. 138 THE INTELLIGENCE. He knows what to believe, and to that he will adhere. That dull child is manifestly ridicu- lous, but we, who are men in the world, are we not perhaps like this child. This same decision forms in our blind and feeble infancy, under the influence of a detestable education, and the self-sufiicient spirit of the age. This same opinion continues to constitute the foundation of our actual judgment of Catholicity and Chris- tianity." ^ When in childhood solid instruction has established in the mind a religious basis, sooner or later it will produce its effect, and the deviations of doubt will leave still on the mind the remembrance of and regrets for those days of sincere faith. "Oh ! my friend ! writes a philosopher of his time, are we poor philosophers not unfortunate beings for whom the prolongation of life is but a trust, an ardent desire, a fervent prayer ! Would I had the faith of my mother ! To rea- son is to doubt, and to doubt is to suffer. Faith is a species of miracle. When it is strong, when (1) Le Pere Gratey, lettre a Monsieur Vaeherot. PHILOSOPHY. 13^' it is sincere, it gives nanglit but happiness ! How often in my studies have I not raised my eyes to heaven and asked God to reveal to me, and above all to give to me immortality."^ The stndy of philosophy is the eom^^letion of all other studies, and serves greatly to educate the intellect, but this instruction has become so unnatural that when it is not absolutely injuri- ous, it is at best useless and tiresome. In the meantime, what interest the study of men pre- sents to us, whether we consider the man himself, either in his connection with God, with his- neighbor, or finally with all created beings ! For such is the object of philosophy. This study is so much more important, because in its intelligent researches she finds the means to de- lineate the foundations of religious faith. A powerful testimonial, but not an expositor of the truth. True philosophy would lead a young man to support himself upon the foundations of faith, as these direct him to repose upon divine authority. (1) Letter of Santa-Rosa, quoted by Mon. Cousin. 140 THE IJSTELLIGENCE. " The best use we can make of our mind," Malebremche says, " is to acquire the knowledge of the truths we believe by faith, and so of all that serves to confirm them. I could then never believe that true philosophy is opposed to faith, neither that good philosophers can have different sentiments from true christians." And that comes from the fact that the truth which natur- ally enlightens our minds, cannot be in opposi- tion to the truth it has pleased God to reveal to us. " The true and essential reason, " says Mon- taigne," by which we deprive false instruction of the name of faith is lodged in the breast of God, for that is the home of faith and its retreat ; it is from thence it takes its leave, when it pleases God to dispense some of its rays upon us."^ But if one's only object is to give to such in- struction to study the faculties of the soul, with the dry classifications, and the vain suscep- tibilities of metaphysical sterility, might not one say with Pascal, that such a philosophy is not worth one hour's study ? JS'or should we neglect the manner of this instruction, so beau- (1) Essais, liv. ii, ch. 161. RELIGION THE CENTRAL TRUTH. 141 tif ul in itself, nor deprive it of all literary charm to such a degree as absolutely to deprive it of all attraction. " Let us not forget that philosophy has a muse, and is not simply an official in argumentation." ^ To conclude, religion should retain the same place in relation to mental culture that the sun holds to the world's svstem. Her lio-ht and warmth should be diffused through all knowl- edge, and permeate every branch of instruction. (2) Joubert. CHAPTEE YI. EDUCATION OF THE HEAET. From the heart proceeds life. — (Prov. 4th, 23.) This word, profound as are all those which God inspires, shows ns well why the language of peo- ples, designates by the same word this organ of the body. It diffuses blood through every mem- ber, and communicates life thereto. This faculty of the soul is the seat of the sentiments, but more especially that of love. It is the blood that makes the material heart to beat, it is love also that makes the moral heart leap with joy ; and when the soul is filled with that noble and pure sentiment, the organ of life beats stronger, and palpitates with emotion. The qualities of the heart being the most pre- cious, and possessing the greatest influence over our existence, we necessariallv esteem it above HEART-INSTINCT. 143 all else. When we say of a child, he has a good heart, we bestow upon him the highest praise.. We appreciate a worthy man who devotes him- self to truth and virtue, and we call him a man of heart. It gives us pleasure to acknowledge " that the greatest thoughts come from the heart." ^ " The same with truth," says M. de Maistre,. "that man cannot seize hold of but with the intelligence of the heart. Mente cordis sui." Such is the importance of this truth, that all moral life, all wisdom, all philosophic truth,, come from the heart, and that God has made a resume of all our duties in this one word :. '' Vous aimerez^^^ Diliges ! This being the fact nothing is of more impor- tance, than the education of the heart, and particularly in our day, when nothing is more- neglected. One seems to reserve all care and all solici- tude for the instruction of the mind, in order to accelerate and extend that instruction, and above- all to fill it with diversified varieties ; but who occupy themselves with the cultivatioil of (1) Yauven argues. 144 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. the heart, in those institutions of learning where religion does not preside ? Sometimes one sees amongst chihlren little prodigies of memory, and even of mind. They ]$:now fables ; they make analysis ; they converse agreeably in society, and make use of terms that are pleasing. In a few years when they will have been rubbed up with Greek and Latin, and will know a smattering of history and mathematics ; you will hear them eloquently vociferate their little erudition. But let us suppose that they are as learned as they strive to be brilliant, will that make them happy ? or will they increase the happiness of those by whom they are surrounded ? and above all will they be good ? or will they be pure and virtuous ? and under the most gracious appear- ance, do they not bear about with them the most pernicious germs for future development ? You will see them from time to time practising the principle duties religion prescribes ; but have they imbibed the true sentiment of religion in their early infancy ? has piety, a sincere, gener- ous, well-difPused piety filled their hearts ? HOW REACH THE HEART? 145 In the heart is found the fundamental element of the man and of the christian ; it is the source of all moral good ; because in the heart is found the source of love. Children are by no means mere machines whose wheels and springs are worked by artificial power. Endowed with freedom, they do only that which they desire to do ; they do not wish any- thing they do not love ; In fact, they come ta practise love, duties, virtues, efforts and sacri- fices, only through the language of love and per- suasion. To cultivate the heart of a child, then,, is to teach him to love ! Sublime instruction ! which should maintain a controlling influence through life ! But by what means shall we read the heart that we may form it ? Shall it be by way of authority and the sterility of command that we shall speak to him and persuade him ? Will it suffice for this education of the heart, to unfold by fore-thought and regulation, by stratagems of surveillance, by severity in discipline and other resources of an ingenious mind or an energetic character ? With all this apparent discipline one 146 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. will come to establish an exterior order, more or less perfect, but has the heart been regulated ? Is it that this amiable faculty is to be fashioned and directed by material force? 'No, the heart with its "penchants," the will with its free determinations, piety with its delicate and secret influence, are not things to regulate, fashion, or direct themselves, by wary rules, or by punishments in some official relations. I see the body where is the soul ? Where is the principle of life ? I see an administration, a well arranged civil policy ; where is the educa- tion of the heart ? I see an active, and perhaps dilligent official ; where is the father, where is he? I am going to say : he is in the religion and above all is he in the Priest ! and why ? because a priest knows how to love childhood ! His is the secret, his the watchfulness, his the discipline, behold his marvelous art ; he loves a child not for himself, but for the child, for society, for the future, for heaven. It is this love that is the principle of divine light, as of •every generous impulse. 147 It is a long time since, that a sublime moral- ist, St. Augustine, upon a question of duties made this famous answer, which is the great rule of the priest used in educating the heart of a child : " Love," says he, " love fii'st of all ; then do what you please : ama, et fac quod vis." This is the device of a priest, when he fills the role of teacher. If he does not know how to love a child, and devote himself with the most entire disinterestedness to his education, he would not know^ how to cultivate his heart. In this diffi- cult work, the most devoted love should be the best guide, " Le maitre du maitre lui-meme ! " One governed by love, is above all others skillful to discern character, to choose means, and to invent resources unknown to others. " To love, is to see," continues St. Augustine, '' amare videre est, it is the science of the heart." It is not sufficient for a priest to be exempt from the narrow views of a mercantile mind, neither to bring to the work the principles of conscientious justice, which would lead him 148 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. coolly to calculate what he owes to the child and to its family. He would still be a poor educator of youth if he limited himself to the incomplete and sterile views, which represent to him his situation as a noble task to which it is sufficient to bring the qualities of a skilful, and honest administrator. He desires something better than that ; animat- ed with divine charity, he loves infancy ; so dear to the heart of Jesus Christ, he devotes himself to it ; he feels within him the most ardent desire for the good, honor and happiness of his pupils ; and he brings, with all his soul, not only what is required to cover his responsibilities, and estab- lish perhaps his reputation, but every means which can really form, ennoble, ameliorate, and embellish the hearts of the children confided to his fatherly care. In this manner we can readily see how one heart may fashion another. The entire life of man in infancy is as the fruit is to the flower. Without doubt, every • flower does not bear fruit ; it may dry up and perish ; the rain and storm may crush it to the earth. Still it is also true to say, that without HOW ACCOMPLISHED. 149 flowers you will have no fruit, and that is al- ways the richest year bearing fruit that is pre- ceded by a beautiful Spring. For this reason religion cultivates with so mucli care these lovely flowers: Children, who are the men of the future. The lieart of the child will be for the family to which it belongs, or for society itself, a fruitful source of good or evil, the result of wliich will depend upon the religious education he has re- ceived in his youth. Now then, this education, this christian formation of the heart, vrliere shall it be accomplished ? or who will pursue this purpose with love and zeal 'i If the family be profoundly christian ; if the child from his cradle is surrounded by pious examples, without doubt he could be brought up wdth much less effort under the eyes of his father and mother, and in the midst of his brothers and sisters, in respect to religion, to love of virtue, and the practice of piety : for the air he breathes there, so to speak, would give moral and religious life to his heart. But where to-day are the families that can be said to be 10 150 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. highly and profoundly religious 1 have they not become very rare ? Where are the parents, who interest themselves exclusively in educating the hearts of their children? Must not the priest strive to give to children that of winch they are deprived in the fathers house ? This he will accomplish above all through the catechism, which will become for him another domestic hearth, where truth and virtue will develop themselves, in his soul, under the sweetest influence. It is in the knowl- edge of the catechism the child will And a pro- tecting asylum for his faith and his innocence, as also a holy cradle, where he will be born again to a new life ; there, religion like, a mother will welcome him with tenderness, to him she will open her arms and her breast, she will indeed elevate him by offering to his intellect and to his soul the truths of a hidden love, will accus- tom him to prayer, will present to him the ad- mirable revelations of God and heaven, of virtue and its recomj)ense, of evil and its chastisements, of Jesus Christ and of redemption, will disclose to him the end and aim of life, will make mani- THE CATECHISM. ^ 151 fest the future to him and the route which con- ducts him there, and will linally initiate him into a christian life on that transcendent day of his first communion, when Jesus Christ him- self will come to take possession of his heart. It is evident in order to arrive at such great re- sults, the catechism must not l^e taught after the manner of ordinary dull instruction, simply as a religious lesson ; but should he made a great, pious, christian institution where the children of God are to be fashioned and brought up. The literal explanation of the catechism will only enter into the great object as one of its ele- ments, but that does not comprehend all, because education and family are not cold unmeaning words, a course in which the student only applies himself in order to satisfy the exactions of a pro- gramme. In the family one does not only teach, but much more it forwarns and admonishes, en- courages, re|)rimands sweetly, recompenses, loves, and causes virtue to be loved ! and over all that Tesprit de famille presides. That is to say, the authority, the devotion of one part in all its different requirements, with all its shares of ten- 152 EDUCATION OF THE HEAET, derness and zeal ; and from the other, respect, docility, unlimited conhdence, as", also filial love and gratitude. These are the lessons the catechism gives to those who desire to educate the heart. Who does not know the immense good done in Paris through the work of the catechism, which was first founded at St. Sulpice, b}^ Monseur Oilier, then estab- lished in the other parishes, from whence it spread all through France and into many other countries, with the admirable method followed by the scholars in the seminary of Paris for the in- struction and religious education of youth. Tlie good accomplished in Paris alone, even, by the catechism is already incalculable ; not to speak of the good done in many countries by the Priests, educated in the school of St. Sul- spice. If I myself have left one useful trace of my ministry in St. Petersburg, and if I have done some good in Moscow, I must say it is owing to the fact of my devoted instruction to infancy and youth; above all in establishing the catechism after the manner of St. Sulspice, during those SELF-ESTEEM. 153 years spent in the seminary, and in which are our happiest memories centered. II. Let us study the education of the heart in an- other sense, and following it in its consecutive progress, try to become acquainted with its move- ments. First of all the child is in love with himself. It is very natural that he commences at this point, for in his egotism there is something legitimate which is the instinctive sentiment of self-preservation ; but when pushed too far, or imprudently satisfied, this sentiment may cease to be the simple movement of the helpless to seek support, and degenerate into complete and tyran- nical self-esteem. This should be avoided with the greatest care, in explaining to the child as early as possible how we must seek assistance from others, and how we are obliged to do for them all we expect them to do for us, and above all in teaching him how noble and sweet it is to love those from whom he receives his benefits. Guided by these counsels from education, the heart of the child is naturally turned towards those 154 EDUCATION OF THE PIEAET. who have given him his birth, and who lavish their tenderest care upon him. Soon he will recognize the fact, that without his parents the gift of life wonld prove useless to him. "I should have been as if I had not been, car- ried from the womb to the grave." Fuissem quasi non essem^ de utero translatus ad tuinu- luiii, — Job, 10, 19. Thus it will be a pleasure for him to resjDect and cherish his father as the representative of the tender and Urm authority of God, and his mother who is the visible organ of Providence in her vigilant and indefatigable love. How admirable this iilial devotion is from chil- dren well raised ! Kow, for the one that is not already blase by foolish caressing, how sweet that paternal kiss is which descends upon the fore- head like dew from heaven ! With what re- spectful and tender emotions a good son presses the hand of his mother ; that mother who gave him his first care, and who every day is inter- ested in removing every obstacle from his path : nothing is more legitimate, nothing better founded than this impulse of love in the heart FAMILY AFFECTION. 155 of a child towards his father and his mother. That is not a high-born soul which is not dis- posed to feel the strength of these sacred ties, from wlience flows the obligation, the respect to love devotedly, accompanied with the most amiable manifestations. At the same time the heart of the child must be educated in the accomplishment of these affectionate duties. Parents will understand also that before them and above them, God is the father of their children, whom they have received as a sacred deposit confided to their tenderness, and that although they are honored thereb}' still their obligations are greatly augmented. Surrounding him the child sees his brothers and his sisters who are intimately united to him. The same womb that has carried him has carried them; they are like the budding flowers upon the same branch, and which have lived upon the same nourishment. What happiness it is for him to love them as friends given to him by nature ! For this reason his heart will com- mence little by little to dilate in a circle which will always increase in magnitude. He will 156 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. come in contact from liis infancy with young companions, amongst whom he will find some more particularly worthy of his affections. These will be brothers, not given by nature but chosen through the sentiment of esteem and ten- derness, which is friendship. Koble sentiments, to which the heart of a pure child can lend him- self with the reserve that the wise and pious voice of the director ot his conscience will indi- cate ! He will comprehend already that at any age a virtuous friendship is the charm of life. The following is what Pere Lacordaire writes upon the subject : '' It is nothing wrong, my child, to love some one of your comrades more than another, when that affection is confined witliin the limits of a sincere and pure senti- ment. When one of your companions offers his friendship to you and asks for yours in return, you should endeavor to know his character, and not attach yourself to him only as being of ex- terior advantage. If he l)ear a character solidly and virtuousl}^ disposed, while in other regards you feel drawn towards him by an honest sym- pathy, nothing need j)revent your responding EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 157 to his friendship. But in this case you should be faithful to your engagement and take care not to fly from one object of affection to another, which indicates a light mind incapable of serious sentiment/ The child that feels himself generously loved by his masters, will not fail to give a respectful and tender love to them in return. He will feel that as they are associated with the paternal func- tions, so do they share in tlie responsibilities and learn to assume the same sentiments. Later when advanced in life, he looks back to the college where he was raised, he will remember the com- panions of his youth, and his college masters ; he will feel awakened within him, more lively than ever, those rememl:)rances, ^''ceMe inemoire dii coeurr "Our infancy," says Monsieur de Chateau- briand, "leaves something of itself in the places adorned by it, as a flower comnninicates its perfume to the object with which it comes in contact. To-day I even find my heart touched when thinking of the dispersion of my young (1) Letters a des jeunues gens. 158 EDUCATION OF THE HEAET. school companions and the masters who first in- structed me."^ The object of so much care, snrronnded by those who give their whole attention to him, who love him and devote themselves to his edu- cation, the child commences to reflect, and yields to the friendly religions voice which gives to him instruction in piety from which he will readily raise his heart to Him who is the original source of all the benefits he has ever received. So many and divers benefactions will be as aliment to the active flame and with his whole heart, he will be transported towards heaven by an impulse of piety so easily in- spired in a child and so precious when it is well directed. The divine love, that is to say the greatest and most amiable love that can exist, commences to inspire the child's heart w4th a new and holy ardor. A piety that is about to raise and ennoble that soul ! to purify its inclinations ! and desires to (1) Memoirs d'outre tombe. A PIOUS ATMOSPHERE. 169' direct that heart towards all that is worthy to fix its purpose ! "Is not religion," says Monseigneur le Bishop of Orleans, "in profound harmony with all noble powers, and with all good faculties of the human soul ? Light of intelligence for the mind, flame of life for the heart, encouraging and formidable power for the conscience, an immutable law for morals, a sweet and firm authority for the char- acter, grace and succor to virtue : who is able to comprehend all that it is capable of doing to* develop the faculties ? You may drive religion far away from youth, but it would be madness !'' On the contrary, he should live in an atmos- phere of piety; that his mind, that his heart, that his senses even, if that were possible, and that all his being as it were, should be impregnated with piety, above all during the critical period of youth. III. It is at this epoch principally that the chris- tian child requires his heart to be filled with a broad profound affection and love for Jesus Christ. This noble, powerful, sweet love, will 160 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. •concentrate his moral life, and will prevent it from being scattered amongst a thousand frivol- ous and dangerous objects. The world and its voluptuousness will lose all their prestige in presence of this inexhaustible source of joy and peace. There only will he hnd the true end of his being and repose to his heart. The extent •of his desires will be sufficient to make him com- prehend that " man having received but one end which is God, this vocation has necessarily •dug an abyss within himself, that God only can fill. In vain nature throws into it her immen- :sity ; at most it only causes the delusion of a stone falling into a gulf ; the gulf receives it ; it falls and remains.'-^ From whence comes this vacuity, this discon- tent, this state of dark melancholy which tor- ments so many y«3ung souls l^rought up far away from the tranquillizing sources of truth and ;grace ? Wandering in the secrets of solitude, or in the public thorouglifares of large cities, the young man finds himself oppressed l)y aspirations (1) Le Reverend Pere Lacordaire, 60 Coaferance annee, 1850. GOD NECESSAEY. 16t witliout end ; lie shuns the realities of life as he- would a prison, where his heart is smothered, and he supplicates everything which is vague and uncertain, the darkness of night, the winds- of autumn, the falling leaves of the wood, some- influence that might fill his breaking heart.. But all in vain ; the clouds pass, the wind ceases ta blow^, the leaves become discolored and dry up, without telling him why he suffers, without say- ing it is so much better for his soul to suffer than to receive the tears of a mother or the tender- ness of a sister." It is the supreme good, the infinite, it is God that is necessary to that soul. When divine- love purifies it and makes it to live, you will see how the face is set eastward with all its sails. well trimmed. The child existence will have an end ; he will act for one whom he loves ; all his desires, all his thoughts, all his hopes will draw towards God by an impulse of love. What a powerful motive to carry him on to all that is. great and generous ! and at the same time what (1) Le Rev'd Pere Lacordaire, 60 conferauce, annee. 1850. 162 EDUCATION OF THE HEAKT. a divine cliarm to extinguish the lire of budding passion ! what sweet joys, what holy pleasures for a young soul which is just opening into life ! The heart of the child is frivolous perhaps, he has wings that will mislead him ; but thanks to piety they will be made to serve him in his course, his natural levity of mind will lead him on to good and facilitate his rapid and courageous flight. His intelligence even will increase in pene- tration, in perspicuity and in extent. A pure heart gives to ideas more clearness and life, and to pictures of imagination it gives also a graceful and innocent reflection. It is not only the body that feels this salutary influence ; the look is fllled with transparent truth ; the features of the face are lighted up with a sincere smile ; all the movements and all the attitudes of the body have something noble, happy and assured, which recalls to mind the words of the Evangelist : ^' Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall ;see God." Here let us listen to Monsieur de Lamartine : "The eminently religious education that one re- LAMARTINE. 163 ceives from the Jesuits, the frequent prayers, the meditations, the sacraments, pious ceremo- nies repeated and 23rolonged, rendered more at- tractive by the ornaments upon the altar ; the magniiicence of the costumes ; the chant, the in- cense, the flowers, tlie music, exert ujDon our hearts the most lively and salutary impression. TJie ecclesiastics who lavish them upon us, are the hrst to aljandon tJiemselves to their influence wdth all the sincerity and fervor of their faith. I resisted sometime this influence, still laboring under the impressions, prejudices, and antipa- thies that my sojourn in the college of Lyons had left on my mind against my first masters. But the sweetness, the tenderness of soul, and the insinuating persuasiveness of a more healthful regime under my new masters with all the power of their instruction, did not fail to have its effect upon my young imagination of fifteen years. "Invariably under their religion I found again the early piety of my youth, that I drank in with my mothers milk, in my newly found piety. I found also, calmness and tranquillity of 164 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. mind, order and regulation in my soul, taste for study, the perception of my duties, the impres- sions of communion with God, the deliglits of meditation and prayer, the love of interior recollection and those ecstasies in adoration in the presence of God, to which nothing can be compared upon earth. Who has not experienced something of the same feelings, if he has passed in innocence and piety his infantile days, when the impressions and memories made upon the heart can not be effaced. " Could I live a thousand years," says M. de Lamartine, " I should not be able to forget cer- tain hours of the evening when, releasing myself from the pupils playing in the courtyard, I en- tered through a small private door into the church, when the shades of night already began to appear, and dimly lighted by a lamp suspend- ed closely to tlie front of the altar in the sanctu- ary. Then, having enveloped myself in my cloak, wraj^ped about me like a winding sheet, I concealed myself in the deep shadow of a pillar, supporting my head against the cold marble of LAMARTIXE AXD PASCAL. 165 the balustrade, during an indefinite lapse of time plunged in mute but inexhaustible adoration. I no longer felt the sustained jDOsition on my knees or the earth under my feet, so completely was I lost in God." "Quand j 'ai franchi le seuil du temple sombre, * * -H- * * Je sens que dans ce vide une oreille m' ecotite, Qu 'un invisible ami dans la nef repandu M' attire a lui, me parle un laugage entendu, Se communique a moi dans un silence intime, Et dans son vaste seiu m' enveloppe et m' abime." — Lamartine. In these touching and religious words Lamar- tine only justifies the words of Pascal,' in sjDcak- ing of faith and that may be applied to grace : ^' It is God sensibly felt in the heart," a mysteri- ous and divine influence, that one comes to know only by experience ! "Do not imagine to youi'seK anything diffi- cult or sad in the holy violence by which God draws us to himself. Here nothing but sweet- ness is found, and nothing but what gives pleas- ure : and it is the pleasure itself that attracts us." ^ All that flatters the sense in a forbidden (1) Saint Augustine. Sermon 131. 11 166 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. pleasure is a fatal charm, a loving secret which solicits and leads ns on. Yery well, grace is the counterpart of that wicked "penchant," placed in the balance of our free will, and aids us to break the inclination we have to evil. Through the spirit we see the good, and through the passions we taste the bad. Grace joined to reason attracts the taste to the pleasure of good. This is the secret of the power and joy which flow from piety. "Man is delivered over to evil by his concupiscence," says Leibnitz. The pleas- ure he finds there is in the hook by which he permits himself to be drawn : grace produces a greater pleasure,as Saint Augustine has said. "All pleasure is sentiment of some perfection, either real or apparent : an object is loved according as its qualities are appreciated : now then, noth- ing can surpass the divine perfections ; from whence it follows that charity and the love of God give the greatest pleasure one can conceive of, according as one is penetrated by grace — with these sentiments, which are not felt by ordinary men, because they are occupied and filled by the objects of their passion." Is it not THE SACRAIVIENTS. 167 evident that piety thus understood is the most powerful element in the education of the heart ? lY. One will comprehend better still how the christian religion admirably seconds the moral formation of the man, if one considers how the sacraments, which are the sources of divine grace, have been disj^osed along the route of this life in order to adopt and facilitate the work of education to every age. Baptism is the door through which the child is introduced into christian society ; it purifies his soul and leaves there a leaven of grace which will prove an invisible assistance in a moral and religious education. The second age, or that of early youth, brings with it the fierce passions that already demand an energetic exercise of the will. Most critical epoch for innocence ! the barrier is removed, the combat is about to commence, and the child is not invulnerable. At this solemn moment religion intervenes the second time by two sacraments which then may be often received ; the one is 168 EDUCATION OF TIIK TIKAKT. applied as a vulneraire or restorative, and tlie otlier as a cordial to the soul : these sacraments are confession, and the Holy Eucharist. But conflicts multiply and become more dangerous : then the young christian athlete is presented ^Yith the unction of the strong, Avhich comes to confirm him in his faith, not only, hut to in- crease his strength and courage. Finally the ripe age of man has arriv^ed, the social age when life turns its face towards the east, so to speak, and remains fixed. Now the holy sacrament of marriage comes to bless the union of man and wife by whom christian society is to be perpetuated ; Holy Orders consecrate the Priest, who is sent to sustain, befriend, and console all to whom he should be able without reserve to olfer himself in the fulness of his love and charity. Finally, when life approaches its end, religion comes once again to touch the senses of the faithful in purifying the soul, in order to consecrate it for the last time to heaven. An admirable economy that, by which an efiicacious and sanctifying influence comes to aid us to pass through our secular and religious DANGERS. 109 education on towards perfect and etei'iial liap- piness hereafter. Deprived of tlie indispensable succors of christian piety, are not young people at tlie period when the passions are in their incipient stage under a necessity more or less to seek the frivolities of the world and its guilty excesses ? What aliment must be produced to satisfy the cravings of their nature ? what to nourish their hearts? And in tliis penalty of pure and holy affection, where will the ardent soul stray '^ The discipline of a college all too weak at best to repress extreme disorders, what does it become in the presence of an agitated everves- ing heart ? for the heart can not be im])risoned. Where are the steps of this child leading him to ? Into what disorder is not his life already thrown ? When he commences to reflect, and when he asks himself what do I love, or at least what should I love, what is his answer ? Alas ! how cold is that young soul ! His thoughts and his affections are not turned towards heaven, but bending under the w^eight of material desires, and as one sees bowed to the earth the ])ranches 170 EDUCATION OF THE. HEART. of a plant, so is he turned to ice by an untimely frost ! Poor child ! He is more unfortunate than guilty ! Just having taken leave of his family he arrives at college in all the freshness of his soul and the innocent ardor of his early years ; his greatest pleasure would be to yield himself willingly to the sweet influences of piety; a friendly and pious voice might have found a faithful echo in that heart still pure ! Grace once admitted might And then such easy access ! The love of goodness and virtue, might have been so generously and gratefully watered ! On the contrary behold him devoured by a burning thirst, and by hunger augmented every day by a corrupt and insufficient aliment. His heart withers, his noble aspirations have disappeared, and he is exhausted before he has begun to develop himself ; his bad companions flatter his j)erverse inclinations which love of good would have re- formed, and soon all his early predispositions for virtue and ipietj are dried up and die like a flower too long deprived of air and moisture. The saddest of all still is that with increase of INNOCENCE. 171 years his evil propensities will also increase, and the claims of his passions become more absolute ; he will consume out his life more and more, by the love of dangerous pleasures, which only serve to corrupt and enervate him. Then if he iinds himself during his vacations, for example, menaced by some great danger, on some seduct- ive occasion, what happens to him ? It is easy to foresee. Oh ! why has not some one encircled that young soul by the sweet and powerful ties which the love of God, and piety possess ? This child would have been able by that means to es- cape the contagion of vice and pernicious examples. He would not be at this hour the slave of passions that wither his life before it has been entirely expanded even, and which perhaps will not long delay to jDroduce premature old age. "A child without innocence," said Chateau- briand, "is like a flower without perfume." Le Pere Lacordaire tells us how that flower still loses little by little, under the influence of vice, all its eclat and all its beauty. Let us listen to the illustrious orator while he addresses himself to young men : '' You have received from the "Creator a face 172 EDUCATIOX OF THE HEART. where strength and goodness repose. Your lips are animated by a smile, whose grace snrvives their movement ; your eyes emit a brightness which springs from the dej^ths of a sprightly intelligence, but which, tempered with modesty, produces respect unmingled with fear; your forehead pure and calm serenely crowns the liv- ing magic of your countenance, and whoever looks upon your face, must bestow upon it admi- ration and love. "Oh, young man, these are great gifts! But one hour is sufficient to tarnish them; one fault only is enough to dishonor them. Xature, of which you are the chef-d'oeuvre, will not resist the attacks you make upon it in the secret of your con- science, and in proportion to the abandonment of the soul by God, so will its beauty take flight!" These remarkable words are founded u2)on the principle that true beauty comes from within; it consists less in regular features, which signify but little in themselves, than in the animated expres- sion of the face; the exterior reflection of that light which enlightens the intelligence; and from that jDure and holy flame which warms the PIETY. 173 heart. Is not each one of the traits possessed by a virtuous young man like the Ijlossoniing of a noble thought or a generous affection^^ An exterior charm more precious than the others and which are always easy to preserve through the habits of which they are the principle ! Oh ! what happiness a Christian education brings to a young man, in whom all the gifts of God abound. In cultivating them, lie is made to taste all the pleasures to be found under the easy yoke of piety I and how these practices which seem so arid and heavy to one who does not know them, become sweet and light to him who embraces them at an early hour! He comprehends the truth of that council of the Holy Spirit which are so beautifully aj^plied to piety: "Give ear, my son, and take wise counsel, and cast not away my advice. "Put thy feet into her fetters, and thy neck into her chains. "Bow down thy shoulder, and bear her; and be not grieved with her bands. "Come to her with all thy mind, and keep her ways with all thy power. 174 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. "Search for her, and she shall be made known to thee, and when thou hast gotten her, let her not go: For in the latter end thou shalt find rest in her, and she shall be turned to thy joy. "Then shall her fetters be a strong defence for thee and a firm foundation, and her chain a robe of glory : Eccl. YI., 24—30." The exterior practices of Christian piety are very appropriate in rendering the soul tractable to the services of God, and at the same time she humbles the spirit she spiritualizes the senses, in raising them to the dignity of the soul, making them serve in the greatest act of life, which is religious worship, as do the wings of the eagle, borne by himself, in turn transport him into the bright light. Signs typify the sentiments they express, and develop them by bearing witness to them. To be pious, says Joubert, you must strive to make yourself humble. The attitudes which we cause our body to assume, to lessen the size or to decrease the height, are favorable to piety, CATHOLICISM. 175 SO that we are piously taught we may be "brought to consider our nothingness before God."^ Let us observe the young man who possesses in a marked degree this religious senti- ment, how much greater love he bears for his parents, friends and all those to whom he is under obligation. One can understand that this tender and generous piety will predispose and open his heart to the most pure and noble affec- tions; she will imprint on the soul at the same time a sincere and profound disposition to pay respect to all that merit respect, and in this man- ner justify that remarkable avowal made by a Protestant philosopher: "Catholicism is the greatest, the most holy school for respect the world ever saw."^ It is more than that, we have seen it ; it is a school of truth and virtue, a school of happiness ! V. Up to this time the child has expressed love only as a sentiment of duty and gratitude, his heart is about to love through a more disinter- (1) Pensees. (2) M. Guizot. 176 EDUCATIOX OF THE HEAET. ested sentiment. (xod, who has formed his heart, after his own image, has put lirst of all, says Bossiiet, g-oodness, as the expressive sign of His divine attributes. The cliild will love then with noble and high-toned generosity; and in that immense circle his affections are about to extend themselves ! In all else he is influenced by very nat- ural sentiments, with which it is easy to inspire him. Attached to God by a strong and very en- lightened love, he will readily understand that it is from a divine source he derives every good. Oh ! how he will desire to be able to offer to his God something in exchange for so many benefac- tions ! But how will he do so ? His benefactor is one of whom all His creatures should say with the Psalmist : ''You are my God and you have no need of my beneflts." Indeed what would lie give to Him from whom he has received all he possesses ? These are the means tliat the instructions of piety will suggest to him. The son of man has said these extraordinary words : That which you do to the least of these THE POOR. ITT poor, yon do it unto me. Henceforth all is explained, and all is understood, the mystery of Christian charity is unveiled ! The poor are the representatives of God, to receive the gifts of the pious child, in exchange for wliich he will obtain celestial favors. From his earliest years, the child should be conducted to the dwellings of the indigent, and should have these words, that contain a sublime philosophy repeated to him ; "My child it is not only to the poor that you present your gift, but to Jesus Christ in the person of the poor." The child will then regard him w^ith tender compassion mingled with religious respect. He will see poverty under its most touching forms, it may be the infirm old man, or the mother of a family without resource, the sick laborer de23riv- ed of his work, and above all the poor half- naked child, who like you, may have had par- ents in easy circumstances, with a comfortable home, warm clothing, abundance of food and the advantages of education and have nothing of all that left now^ ! 178 EDUCATION OF THE HEAET. At tliis sight the child is melted into profound compassion. This is certain to be the result if the child is made acquainted with the houses of the poor in his childhood. There in that sad mansard or attic, in presence of a family trembling with cold, and emaciated by want, a source is quickly opened in the heart of the child to the noblest joys. Then he may there be made to comprehend the inequality of existing conditions bj^ which the rich who £'ive to the poor, may receive the benediction of heaven, and the poor in gratitude to the rich offer their prayers to God for them. What a joy for this child to be able, for example, to solace the misery of a poor little orphan, to pro- cure an asylum for him, to give him clothes to wear, bread to eat, and more than that, procure for him the benefits of a Christian education ! Perhaps death will soon come to take this poor little one from the sufferings of this life ; what hapjDiness then for the generous child to know he will have a large place in the prayers of this angel in heaven. Children are often taken to dramatic entertainments, fetes, and other places CHARITY. 179 of 2)leasiire, all of winch might easily be dis- pensed with, but what spectacle more touching than the misery of the poor 'i What more affect- ing scenes than those that take place in the abodes of the indigent ? There they may weep but not at fictitious and imaginary misfortunes; their moral sensibilities will be developed, but to render their hearts more tender and humane; what haj^j^iness, de sentir son ame bonne ! YI. It is said: Charity leads to God. This adage is a great truth. Nothing more easily opens the heart of a young man to religion and all its ele- vating sentiments, than love of the j)Oor, that is explained in a few words from the scriptures : "Give and you shall receive; date, et dabitur vobis." And then do we know what the future has prepared for us, and if, one day, we shall not be brought to adversity ourselves ? Fortunes are so easily overthrown ! "No rich man can say, I shall not die in mis- fortune or exile." ^ (1) Silvio Pellico, Devoirs des hommes. ISO EDUCATION OF THE HEART. I do Hot sj^eak of the jov that the care of the poor confers upon a sensible vonng man, or how he is moved when he sees those nnfortunate chikh-en come to thank him for liis protection, for their home, clothes, and all the succor he has given to them ; when he learns that the families to whom he has extended a helping hand pronounce his name with mingled affection and veneration; that they pray for him every day ; that they have become better, more religions, since they do not suffer so much and that they feel some one is interested in them, and by whom they are loved ! What happiness to hear a mother say to him words that cause his tears to How : "Oh I Sir, without you my husband who is so ill would have died; in my sorrow I should have soon fol- lowed him , and my poor children what would have become of them ? But thanks to you we are saved, to you we owe our lives I What fete can produce such a joyful day ! Let the world tell us if its pleasures can be compared to those of a sensible and generous heart ! Alas ! we have not spoken of the miseries of the soul, concealed THE TRUE AMBITION. 181 under the rags of indigence ; this above all is a subject to excite in the young heart the most profound and tender compassion ! Oh I that child is happy when he has drawn from the bosom of a Christian education all that may render him virtuous and devoted ! How the family where this amiable plant grows should find itself blessed by heaven ! Tliat child possesses in his piety and sensibility of soul something superior to all talent and all human honors, in truth he possesses a celestial treasure ! "One should," says Yauvenargues, "console him- self for not possessing great talent, as he would console himself for not occupying a distinguished position; for through the heart, one can rise above both the one and the other." We would say to either a child or a youth. "Do not strive to be great but to be good ; do not seek to be celebrated, but to be useful. The glory that shines a thousand leagues from you, is not worth the smile of contentment and friendship received from one of your neighbors."^ (1) Mme. de Lamartine. 12 182 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. Le Pere Lacordaire wrote to a young man as follows : "Above all things be good ; goodness bears the greatest resemblance to God, and is the most powerful to disarm man. You have traces of it in your soul, but these are furrows of inadequate depth. Your li|)s and your eyes are not yet what they are capable of being, and no art can give them that character, if interior goodness is not cultivated. An amiable and sweet thought with regard to others is only finished by imprinting itself upon the face, to give it a form, which attracts all hearts."^ Let it be said to us now that a country would' not be happy were its children to receive an edu- cation conformable to the principles we have just hastily sketched. These men of heart who have been taught to love all that is noble and good, would they not- possess love of country to a much higher degree ? For true patriotism does not consist in the vain pride of being born in such or such a place. If you see a man insult religion, sneer at decorum, or (1) Lettres des jeunes gens. Paris, Ch. Doimiol. NEED OF THE WILL. 183 speak liglitly of probity, and then cry, My conn- try ! My country ! do not believe him; that is a hypocritical patriotism, and he is a bad citizen. That man is a good patriot, who nnderstands and loves all his dnties, and makes it his serions oc- cnpation to fulfil them."^ It was great good sense that insj^ired Racine to write the following to his son : "My son, I de- sire to flatter myself that, while making the greatest possible effort to become a j)erf ectly hon- est man, yon will understand that yon cannot be- come snch withont rendering to God what you owe Him." Yes, the one who desires to be a truly noble man, that is to say an honest man, in the full sense that exalted term implies, should fix his look uj)on the only source of all that is honest and good, upon the real good, upon God. One look of faith will enlighten the soul and vivify the heart. "God ! From whence comes all virtue, and every duty," says Joubert, ''and which we cannot see except through God, is the only foundation upon which they are ever made in- telligible to the mind."^ (1) Silvio Pellico, Devoirs des iiommes. (2) Pensees. 184 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. However perfect may be its inclinations, the heart has need of direction, sustained bj the will, its most powerful faculty . Upon it we must lean for support, as the ivy which inter- laces itself around the vigorous oak by its flexi- ble branches. CHAPTEE YII. EDUCATION OF THE WILL. I. In the moral life of man, the light of intelli- gence is the torch by which it is directed, the inclination of the heart, the motive with which it is animated, and the determination of the will, the controlling hand. It is evident then that of all the faculties of the soul, the most important in the role it plays, and the empire it exerts, is the will. Con- sequently it is of these that education demands the greatest care. Much undoubt- edly has been done, in the direction given to the heart of a child, in teaching him to love that which merits his love ; but that would be little if that love be not efficacious and trench upon the positive result of the will. Study itself, even, that discipline of the mind for which one too often neglects the education of the 186 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. remaining faculties, how will it l)ecome extend- ed and solid without the aid of a persevering will ^ Science, says Bacon, is the will. It is an unquestionable necessity then that the child learn to will, that he learn to be resolute, and act in conformity to the nol)le instincts of his heart, which will be for him the means to arriye at the desired result. In life, ''nothing is impossible ; there are ways which conduct us on to the accomplishment of all things and if w^e have a strong will, we will always have adequate means." ^ Learn to will ! But can that be done ? Does not the will of a child inhabit an inaccessi- ble sanctuary, where nothing can enter but with the consent of the one who is its master ? Yes, undoubtedly ; but there is a private way by which to arrive at this secluded retreat, there is a key that opens this entrance, there is also an art to which it must submit, which will produce docility and determine this free faculty: this art is love and discipline. You love ; prove your love l)y an unlimited devotion, and you will (1) La Rochefoucauld. CONTROLLING THE WILL. 187 have easy access to the soul. Then penetrate even to the will, when you will see it sub- mit to your counsels, bow down and yiehi itself, to faithfully follow your least desire, because it knows you command only by love and for its ben- efit and happiness. The soul obeys then because it loves; it loves because it feels itself beloved. This is a law of nature. He who commands, naturally inspires fear. Through condescension you first give evidence of your affection, for love is condescending; God, himself in whom is found the plenitude of its divine habitation, is the first to show his condescension to us, and to humble himself before his fallen creatures, and to wliat degree has he not humbled himself ? ''We love God," says St. Paul, "because he first loved us." Ipse prior delexit nos. Profound words, which contain a princijDle of immense importance in the art of controling men I Fenelon regarded a chihrs affection as one of the most powerful motives for the education of the will: "From the moment," says he, "the child is capable of friendship, his heart is turned towards those who may 188 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. be made useful to him with very little difficulty. Friendship will lead him to do almost anything you desire of him; you have a positive attraction leading him to good." But how will you obtain this friendship from a child ? The only means to attach him to your- self is to love him without weakness, to be kind to him, and thus to prove to him substan- tially the effect of a good, true, and generous devotion. "It is first," says St. Ambrose, "by calm reason, then by tender kindness, that one can win affection ; this goodness which is popular, charms the world, and nothing insinuates itself more easily into the heart. ^" In this consists the whole secret of controlling men, and making them such as you desire. The education of the will is a subject cooperated in by the child and his spiritual guide ; the priest being the representative of God, plays here a very important part. "If I (1) Primum placiditate mentis et animi benignitate influ- amus in affectum hominum ; popularis enim et grata est omnibus bonitas, nihilque est quod tarn facile illabatur humanis sensibus. (St. Ambrosius.) THE SECRET OF CONTROL. 189 dared," said M. Cli. St. Foi, "I would style him professor of the will." It is indeed he who better than all others, teaches the child the art to will, because, knowing all his leanings, all his inclinations, and all the projjensities of his heart, he sees the weak places of the soul that mnst be fortified by the aid of religion and salu- tary encouragement. n. What will become of the child if some one does not apply himself first of all to form his will, to receive the good with which he desires to inspire him, through a solid instruction, in the noble and generous habit which God, con- science, duty and his position demand of him ? Without that what will be his life ? Often struck with the beauty of virtue, and already at the point of attaining it, he feels his heart drawn towards it, and ready to act in unison with this attractive instinct, but he is always wanting in strength to accomplish the happiest design. On the other side these frequent but vain desires, these oft renewed resolutions, are always powerless, because to follow eflicaciously the 190 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. movements of the heart which knows how to see and taste the good, one must have an inner strength to dispose him to yield to nothing which will prevent him from performing ])Ositive acts. That is the price of virtue. That which is wanting in the greatest part of men is far less the sight of good and the instinctive desire to perform it, than the energy which knows how to command the senses, to silence, and to say to every ol)stacle, "]N'o I" and turning to the side of virtue to say to her, "Yes, I will be faithful ; yes I will, be the cost wdiat it may !'' When Jesus Christ granted a great favor, or wrought a great miracle ; when he was propos- ing the way of perfection, the graces of salvation and the glory of heaven, he did not offer all these l)enefits but to a courageous and determin- ed will. It was always, "Will you V si cpiis vult. Yis sanus heri ? — Si vis ad vitam ingredi ^ As if the will was the key to all the goods of earth and heaven. What is a child or a young man whose will first of all is unformed ? He has neither connection in his thoughts, nor vigor in his senti- COURAGE. 191 ments; he has neither solidity in his tastes or in his affections nor perseverance in his conduct ; you will see him always commencing, but never accomplishing, promising to reform and falling back into evil. Good desires are not wanting in him, but he remains sterile. ''In that he may be com^^ared to a soldier in a painting, who with extended arm holds his sword always raised high over the heads of his enemies, but which never falls upon them."^ The most brilliant qualities of the mind, gen- ius, fortune, glory, all that is greatest in the world, what is all that without a strong and per- severing will to make use of these precious gifts ? AlasI All is fragile here below, all may l)e changed from one day to the next;, one thing only remains enduring in the midst of this mass of worldly vanities, and that is, "the strong and generous will of a virtuous man."^ What a sad spectacle, that of a man who does not know how to direct his will, and thus becomes the slave of frivolity and passion I Let (1) Traite de la perfection chretieune. (2) Instum et tenacem propositi virum, (Horace. ) 192 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. US consider him, as he viekls like soil without consistency, to the least pressure. The absence of moral strength in his character is the reason he inspires no conhdence. And his dearest friends cannot trust him. May I not add, he cannot trust himself ? Delivered over to inconstant whims and a slave to human resjDect, he never knows how to make a bold and generous eifort. Around him he finds men of energy and resolu- tion, from whom he withdraws ashamed of his weakness, and to experience only a pro- found confusion. The moral superiority of others humilitates and crushes him. Indeed, let this man be put in a diffcult situation, which re- quires a quick glance of the eye, or a courageous resolution, what will be the extent of his capa- bilities ? He does not know how to deport him- self when exalted by prosperity, nor how to endure the reverses of adversity, or sickness that may prostrate his body. He cannot appreciate pleasure even for any length of time, without abusing it ; everything becomes to him a subject of trouble and disgust. Is this the man ? then what are society, his family, his friends to expect? AN EDUCATED WILL. 193 III. On the contrary see that young man for whom education has formed a firm and persevering will; as he advances in life see what calmness, what equanimity, what noble courage ! Could it not be said he bears within him an invisible strength, a mysterious resource which gives him ]30wer to react against every obstacle from within, or without, to prevent him from following the divine law ? In fact, he does possess this hidden resource. It is his will, aided by celestial suc- cor; through it he fulfils all his duties, because it is by her he is given strength to resist. In habituating himself to suffer he is in a condition to execute the most difiicult enter- prises; because : '' One that knows how to suffer is daring in all his undertakings."^ Sustained by grace, he is established in these virtuous habits which are the cables by which we attach our hearts to God."" He is initiated into the difiicult science of knowing how to command, should his position some day call upon him to exercise it. "To gov- (1) Vauvenargues. (2) Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. 194 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. ern, is to will. One does not govern with ideas, bnt with a firm and constant will.'' (Lamennais.) Before commanding others, a man mnst know how to command himself. Finally his will gives constancy and coher- ence to all his sentiments ; his affections are as solid as profonnd, and his friendship last- ing. A secret may be confided to him, and when he speaks, those to whom he has given his prom- ise rest in the most entire security. He may fall because he is still a man ; but his return will be prompt, generous, carrying the impress of his energetic will, which seems rather to renew in strength through his faulty experience. * Inaccessable to discouragement, he never permits himself to be overcome, and the light of lio})e always shinies for him even in the night of deepest darkness; death itself will not dismay him ; even at his entrance to the tomb he will find in his invisible attachment to integrity and religion the sweetest consolation. It may be said, it is impossible for all to have such energetic will. A principle so false in itself, must be unfortunate in its consequences ! It is EXERCISE OF THE WILL. 195 easy to understand that the imagination, taste and memory contain natural obstacles that might em- barrass their exercise. But for the will it is not the same, because it is like a distinct characteristic of man, to whom it is indispensably necessary. From whence it evidently follows that it can always be acquired as a supreme means without which it will be impossible to attain the end for which he was created. Therefore, of all the powers of the soul, there is not one that may be more easily fortified l)y exercise. The will is exercised by making frequent acts, and following them with the greatest regularity; these are the great educational means to cultivate tins important faculty. For the culture of the remaining faculties occasions are never wanting. What is life but a contin- ued unbroken chain of duties to accomplish? Very well, it is by the faithful fulfilment of their divers obligations, tliat the will prepares itself to face the gravest occasions. IV. But who will always, without fail, be present to say to the will what it must do ? authority, 196 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. law, and duty, who will stand responsible for its inconstancy, and give to it understanding in its adventures and consequences ? Obedience. Yes, Obedience ! that is the great school for the will ! but an elevated obedience, tliat feels it is doing a duty, in submitting to order. Obedience ! But a prompt obedience, which does not wait to be menaced; a generous obedi- ence, which does not act through fear of chastise- ment, or reprimand ; linally a loving obedience wliich draws from the heart the fountain-head of life, its nourishment and its fidelity. I will add also a Christian obedience, which sees God in the one who comnuiiids. It is that obedience which is supported upon the word of the Evangel- ist, and finds in the accomplishment of the most obscure duties, the most sublime and meritorious occupation,that of doing the good pleasure of God. This kind of obedience is beautiful; it is grand thus to respect an authority, this great and holy thing before which the mind willingl}^ bows and does not humble the heart. ^ The master of all wisdom, the saviour of the (1) M. Guizot. THE FRUCTTJATION OF LIFE. 197 world, passed the thirty years of his life in the most humble asylum and in the midst of the most obscure labors; obedience regulated all his actions, and the Evangelist makes a resume of his hid- den life in the following words, which should throw a living light upon the education of youth : "and was subject to them ! " " Erat sub- ditus illis !" and notwithstanding this child was a God ! What a lesson of obedience ! what sub- lime and fruitful instruction ! V. In the light we have just presented the sub- ject, education of the will is the fructuation of life, which, leaving the heart when the will of its source determinates itself into the other faculties, jDassing from thence into all the acts of life, as the sap of the natural plant circulates and infiltrates itself into the stalk, and from thence passes into the branches to be transformed into flowers and fruit. Let us examine the phenomenon of a true vegetation. The sap, in order to maintain its place and circulate usefully in the plant must be protected by a coarse rough bark, which 198 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. at first sight appears of very little utility, which, however, in reality is an indispensable succor; for should you remove this rough exterior what would happen ? The sap being exposed it will finally dry up and the death of the plant will soon follow. Now there is for the education of the will, which is moral sap for the child, a rough protectrice and guardian, and that is discipline ;^ an indispensable means to all instruction as to every kind of education. "All the strength of education," Plato says, "is in a well understood discipline." This is why, in institutions of learning where youths are brought up, and in all well organ- ized society, there is what one calls, "un regle- ment," written rules, which are the expression of the principal rules of a wise discipline, and the occasion of continual obedience. "Discipline^ is the Protectress of piety and faith in children, the guardian of manners, the guarantee for vigorous study, the enspiratrice of (1) Ce mot vient de discere, apprendrerecevoirrenseigne- ment. (2) Mgr. Dupanloup. DISCIPLINE. 199 a good mind, the conservatrice of docility, respect, and affection, even the mistress, the dispensa- trice and treasurer of time, the nerve of all rule, and when it is necessary becomes the avenge- ress of all infractions." But that this discipline be never violent, it is founded upon personal sentiment ; then she will not command order but for the good of those upon whom it is imposed, and would love much rather to prevent the evil, than to be obliged to reprove it. One thing let us never forget, that the child is free, and you must persuade him to be will- ing. Avoid a discipline which is too severe, by a punishment, for example, acting upon the body, but not upon the will, which may in his interior and inaccessable sanctuary always say: JSTo, even in submitting to the empire of natural force. The child always maintains a secret resistance against the one who treats him with violence; and this interior resistance none have yet known how to prevent. When one speaks of breaking the will 200 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. of a child, it is by no means a question to destroy or to force this free faculty; it only means to nse authority and persuasion in his re- gard in order to remove his resistance, and give to him that flexibility which will canse a willing adaptation to all the details of his duties: in a word to make a docile instrument of him, which is the natural result upon an enlightened elevated mind, and upon the impulse of a virtu- ous heart. To iinderstand this word otherwise would be to fall into a strange abuse of the term. At the same time a great deal of penetration is not necessary to perceive a difference in the disposition of young children, and that some require a more rigorous discipline than others. You may remember those words of Henri YI to his queen: "My friend, you cry when I punish our son with a whip; but it is for his good, and the pain I give you now will relieve you of others much greater in the future." Moreover, " The most severe discipline," says M. de Laurentie, with reason, " may conceal the most frightful vices." PUNISHMENT WITHOUT DISCIPLINE. 201 How many examples of this may not be found in our colleges ! The result is that young people return, after many years of study, bringing with them the remembrance of painful duties, of lessons, of surveillance, of reproaches and of pun- ishments, but nothing which rejoices the heart and tills it with pleasant reminiscences. To them youth has been a season despoiled of its blossoms and deprived of its poetry. They have not loved either masters, duties, or virtue, their hearts are fruitless, their will powerless. They have had commands laid upon them, they have been punished, but they have not been formed; lo, they aspire only for that happy moment to arrive that will deliver them from an odious and useless yoke, and will give them that imaginary liberty that they represent to them- selves as the ideal of happiness. "Imberbis juvenis, tandem custode remoto, Gaudet equis canibusque, et aprici gramine campi." — Horace. VI. Among the benefits conveyed through educa- tion by a wise and unequivocal discipline — and 202 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. one of the most remarkable — is silence, which obliges children to pay attention. How much meaning these words contain : to pay attention ! When he is attentive, the child does something ; he directs his faculties toward the one who speaks, or counsels ; he seizes the instruction, the example, the pious inspiration, and he assimi- lates to himself the elements of education: he does a praiseworthy act, because he pays attention! This is then, permit us to say in passing, one of the most important habits to give to a child ; all his life he will feel its influence. " It is the power of attention," says Blair, "which most frequently distinguishes the man endowed with great gifts from the vulgar crowd which sur- rounds him, who regard neither regulation nor order in their hap-hazard march. Objects float to the surface of their souls like leaves carried by the wind to all sides and dispersed over the bosom of the water." " It is discipline," also says Mgr. Dupaidoup, "which commands and imposes silence, for silence is a salutary lesson which insures the success of all others. In maintaining silence in class, for DISCIPLINE ESSENTIAL. 203 example, it is discipline which checks the glance of indiscreet curiosity, presenting his answer at the most opportune and convenient moment, and thus does not tolerate in the sanctuary of science any but worthy and gracious words, impressed with sweet amenities." It is often thought that in order to conciliate the affections of a child greater freedom of action must be given it ; what an error ! Children pos- sess in themselves germs of goodness and order ; they soon come to judge and estimate a too in- dulgent master. Besides, the fear of being un- popular is irreconcilable with duty, and the sure way not to lose either the affections or the re- spect of children is to maintain discipline, which without being one of exaggerated authority may be found equally far from an indulgence degen- erating into w^eakness ; following the maxim " That the master should not use a severity too depressing, nor an indulgence too yielding, for fear that the former might cause him to be hated, and the latter that he be despised."^ (1) Non austeritas ejus tristis, non dissoluta sit comitas, ne inde odium, huic contemptus oriatur. (Quinti. 6, 11, 2.) 204 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. In causing yourself to be loved, you must not neglect to make yourself feared ; here are to be found the two great motives of education. We do not speak here of a servile fear ; tliere is yet another species of fear, tender and delicate, which obeys a look from the eye, and is sensibly moved at the thought only of offending one whom one loves. A most touching sensibility, one which at the same time exalts the character of the one from whose heart it animated, as also of the one who inspires the sentiment. It is this paternal and salutary discipline of the child's will which will sustain him in the way of his duty, and will habituate him to remain fixed in his purposes. "Happy habit, con- dition, j)owerful support, fruitful expedient in his simplicity even, and which renders the most difficult enterprises possible to him ; for, in life, there are routes which conduct us to the accom- plishment of all things ; and if we have sufficient will, we shall always have abundant means." ^ (1) La Rochefoucauld. CHAPTER YIII. THE PHYSIOLOGY OF EDUCATION. I. We come now to consider what should be the relative j)osition of an educated intellect to the heart and will ; this is the fundamental point and basis of the great object in which we are interested. But the child j^ossesses other facul- ties which call also for cultivation and develop- ment. The judgment is one, and a faculty so necessary that the use is continual, and shows itself often under the forms of tact and good sense, qualities as rare as they are excellent, two branches growing from the same trunk; the memory, " repertoire," fruitful in the most useful souvenirs ; the imagination, a brilliant faculty and an inexhaustible source for variet}^ of orna- ment, and which colors every object by the aid of its clever brush ; the taste, that sense of the beautiful, so delicate and so noble ; and finally 206 PHYSIOLOGY OF EDUCATION. genius, that powerful creator, which sees so quick and so far : these are gifts too precious for edu- cation to neglect their culture. One feels that here education might be made a doctrine for the soul. Although the limits of this work will not permit us to examine the foundation of this interesting subject, we can not relinquish the desire to show some of its principal traits. May we not in some measure compare the soul of a child to a magnificent palace which the will enters to inhabit as sovereign mistress, uniting its existence to that of the judgment, and acting after its counsels ? and there putting to work all the subaltern faculties, she should produce good and useful acts, which will be the orna- ments and riches of this amiable sojourn. The intellect lends its light to her ; assidious to con- sider and to study all subjects, she gathers up seeds and collects knowledge, which she con- fides to the memory, the guardian of that rich deposit ; somewhat like a secretary who is in- cessantly occupied in reading, digesting and confiding the results to a librarian or archivist. The judgment, a judicious and wise counselor, AN ADMIRABLE WHOLE. 207 is consulted at every step ; whose decisions serve to govern all the other faculties. In this intellectual and moral elaboration, the materials are furnished above all by the imagin- ation, w^hich diligently occupies itself in collect- ing images, ideas and souvenirs, to aid the senses which are apertures in the palace through which the impressions enter, coming from with- out. Often this facility in its too officious activity would permit many defective or injuri- ous things to penetrate the soul, if the taste were not there to watch over and discern between the good and evil which she produces, deciding what to receive and what to reject. The habitation of life, placed in the center of the soul, the heart vivifying all, communicates to all the faculties w^armth, as the spirit diffuses amongst them its eclat, and as genius sometimes pours out upon them the flood of its light. What an admirable whole ! w^hat magnificent gifts ! and when one thinks that all these germs are contained in one child how one ought to feel a noble courage animate him to work upon a foundation so precious ! 20S PHYSIOLOGY OF EDUCATION. li. One will compreliend that from tlie earliest moment it is necessary to form the judgment of a child, which is of continual service to him. During the course of his life he will have con- stantly to judge of men and things. That which will be least developed in his other faculties, may sometimes be supplied up to a certain point by the judgment, while that can never be replaced by either of the others. Without doubt a promj)t and facile intelli- gence is an immense resource, and one that ought to be esteemed at every period of life, but this quality has not its true A^alue except so far as it is supported and sustained by a pure judgment, full of truth and precision. "A vivacious mind is like a bright stone ; but the one who has vivacity combined with judg- ment, is like a diamond that has every property necessary to render it precious."^ Besides, of what service will it be to a mind which con- ceives quickly and judges with facility, if the ideas and the judgment are wanting in justice ? " (1) Flecbier, Reflections sur les caracteres des hommes. JUDGMENT. 209^ " It is of no advantage to have an active mind if it is not jnst ; the perfection of a penduhini does not consist in its rapid motion, but in the regularity witli which those movements are made."^ Now two things are necessary above all others to a child that he may form a good judg- ment : they are reflection upon thought and tran- quillity of mind. Ordinarily our false judgment arises from two causes, too great precipitancy in action, which does not take time to examine, and preoccupation of mind which yields blindly ta some passion. A child is not habituated to re- flect soon enough, nor to observe men and things; while this attentive observation only can furnish material for a just and true judg- ment. Nothing is more injurious than to toler- ate in children a disposition to judge without knowledge, to pronounce upon everything, and to say in a preemptory tone, " Cela est cela, n'est pas ;" he will liabituate himself to speak upon those subjects he does not understand, and vaguely endeavor to discuss them ; tlie result will be that their conversation, as also their (1) Vauvenargues. 210 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. writings or their works, cannot bear the criti- cism of a man of good sense or education. One other thing very necessary for the culti- vation of this faculty, is to give to children none but excellent books to read. Alas ! how many are there not who in their youth have formed from certain dangerous reading false judgments, which sooner or later they have been obliged to counteract with infinite trouble ? Of how many errors of, speech or imprudent steps has not this unfortunate reading been the source! On the contrary, nothing is better to strengthen and fortify the judgment than to read those discriminating authors, all of whose assertions are tnie, and all of whose thoughts may be medi- tated uj)on, because they are just and sensible. From the judgment two precious qualities pro- ceed, viz., tact and good sense. Tact holds nearly the same relation to the soul, as the sensation of touch to the body. It is like an interior sense, a sort of spiritual touch by which the soul per- ceives the good qualities or defects of others, and regulates itself accordingly ; the same as TACT. 211 by the sense of touch from the body we come to know the different objects we come in contact with. A man without tact,though otherwise with the most excellent qualities of mind and heart, succeeds rarely in his enterprises, because he knows how to take neither men nor things. He resembles those people whose hands being rude and coarse break a fragile object as soon as they touch it. Alas! how disastrous the results of want of tact in a man who is superior to others and who is capable as a leader to fix their value ! what bruised hearts have been the con- sequences of the touch of this unscrupulous hand ! what talent rejected and destroyed by him ! how many beings overthrown ! what ruins ! Is it not like a barbarian who destroys a thousand objects, of which he cannot comprehend either the use or the value? A man without tact is an evil the more to be dreaded, because he does not see the evil of which he is the cause. During our entire life tact is forming and per- fecting itself, for it is first of all the result of social relations formed from intercourse with men ; but one can say nevertheless it is formed 212 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. in our childhood years, and above all in our youth, when we acquire the qualities from whence it flows. Docility of mind, purity of heart, the rectitude of the will, a just judgment, are the elements without which it will never form itself. Pride, anger, and voluptuousness,, on tlie contrary, are passions with which it is incompatible. Good sense is also derived from the judgment, w4th this difference that it is something more spontaneous. The man of judgment reasons well, the man of good sense divines justly. Good sense is like a disposition habituated to readily And the truth. That is why it should be in a measure the base or foundation of a mind well organized. "In the world of intellect," says M. de Bonold,, "good sense is the learned proprietor, and the mind is only the furniture." It is readily seen by this how important it is to cultivate this precious quality in children; for without it the mind will in vain hope to excel by false brilliancy and deceit, but often proves only the receptacle of error and false pretentions. MEMORY. 213 in. What shall we say of the memory, that prodig ions faculty, of which tlie attentive consideration caused the invincible Cicero to conclude it was proof of the spirituality of the soul and the most formidable argument of the existence of a God ? " How grand is the power of memory ! one is seized with a species of awe when con- sidering the profound depths and the multiplic- ity of things therein endlessly contained."^ This faculty is so useful and serves us in so many ways, that Montague says, "Science is nothing but memory." Happily there is no faculty more easily cultivated in youth. We wc»uld only say care must be taken that it be not overcharged. Xow we have arrived at one of the most brilliant faculties of the human mind, a magic power, enchantress, the imagination, pro- ducing images and pictures with an astonishing facility. "Retire le passe, devance ravenir, Ref ait tout ce qui fut, fait tout ce qui doit etre ; Dis a I'un d'exister a I'autre de renaitre ; (1) Confessions de Saint Au^ustin. 14 214 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. Et coinme a TEternel, quand sa voix I'appela, L'etre, encore au neant, lui repond, me voila! Des maitres du cireau' du pinceau, de la lyre, C'est elle qui produit, qui nourrit le delire, Donne au fier conquerant son rapide coup d'oeil, Des grands coeurs entretient le genereux orgueil."^ She mantles everything with her pleasing color, she gives in a manner a sensible form even to objects in the spiritual order. Placed, so to speak, upon the confines of sense and intellect, she submits to the latter her impressions after having transformed them into images. One of the greatest advantages of the imagina- tion, is that she presents the thought to our minds clothed in a form of beauty ; the mind, taken by the charms of truth thus presented, is more willingly inclined to embrace it, while a divine attraction seizes upon the heart. She serves all the other faculties, and renders each one of these functions more agreeable and more flexible. Aided by her the intellect pre- sents clear ideas life like and more easily understood ; the memory has fresh souvenirs, and more animated ; the words are more life (1) Delille, poBme de I'imagination. THE IMAGINATION. 215 giving, and the style more flowing ; it produces sweeter and more tender emotions in the heart ; and the will itself, that austere power, does not disdain her concurrence. She draws from thence for her spontaneous determination something more enthusiastic and transporting in producing her acts. It is above all in literary studies, and especially in composition, that the imagination is to the scholar of the greatest service. " Composition is a painting and it is necessary to have images ; it is an animated picture, therefore you must have sentiment. But these images and these senti- ments, from what source shall we go to draw them? The author of nature has put them within ourselves, in giving to us two faculties, suited in every way to be diffused through our pictures, I mean the imagination and the heart, the imagination to hold the brush, and the heart to conduct it. " The imagination as the word indicates is the mother of imagery, and feats that are called inge- nuities : it is she who furnishes to the orator and 216 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. the poet their most beautiful figures, it is by her speaking in the words of Boileau/ "Que I'esprit orne, eleve, embellit toutes choses Et trouve sous sa main des fleures tou jours ecloses." It is easy to comprehend the grave importance then of cultivating this faculty in children, not alone, neither in predominant manner, but at the same time with the others, and in a manner proportioned to the development that one gives to them. "Taken separately, the imagination is of but little importance, but it is an estimable gift when united to the other powers of the mind. She walks, or rather she flies before the faculties to which she allies herself, she encourages them to follow her and calls upon them to step in her foot prints, opening up to them new routes." ^ It would evidently be working against the de- signs of God to restrain the imagination of chil- dren, which is their j^rincipal resource of enthu- siasm for the beautiful, the sacred fire, which, nourished by pure images, rises towards the good, and to that end is a powerful aid. (1) Essai sur le beau. (2) Chateaubriand, melange litteraire. DANGERS OF THE IMAGINATION. 217 But imagination will not produce the liappy effects that one might expect, except in serving the other faculties, without controlling them. For she is an admirable servant, but a detestable mistress. Montaigne calls her, la folle du logis, or "female lunatic of the house." If you give her the authority, she becomes capricious, exact- ing, and unmanageable, like a servant who has come to domineer over his master and lead him at his will. It is at such a point that, in order to arrest the evil and re-establish command over the soul, one is obliged sometimes to renounce entirely the very great advantages that her con- currence offers, rather than to submit to such grave inconveniences. In youth she shows her tendency to domi- neer ; ordinarily vice does not penetrate into the soul of a child until after having first gained its imagination by means of the senses, after the manner of a thief, who in order to enter a house, first tries to subordinate an unfaithful servant. These disadvantages are not to be feared if one instructs a child in such a manner, that the will and the judgment both are always made to 218 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. rule over the imagination. However, its educa- tion should never be neglected ; it may become of immense ntility. Literary studies are for her a powerful means of development ; they can furnish an agreeable and variable aliment, but care must be taken not to enervate her by making too great effort to give her nourishment ; she is for- tified by wise sobriety ; excessive delicacy injures it when nothing preserves it better or cantributes more to its formation than purity of heart ; in that she finds her vigor and her pro- tection, her power and her beauty. Let us hold over the imagination of children an attentive vigilance : for a dangerous thought or idea may give place to culpable desires, and to the most unfortunate errors, or to faults whose consequences may be most serious; she may be the origin of a long train of souvenirs which will fatigue the memory and soil the heart. At this point the exercise of vigilance should be much more active than in childhood, because this faculty has more strength and life than the LOVE OF BEAUTY. 219 others. Thoughts even the most serions seldom present themselves to the mind bnt under the form of imagery. The child pursues the beautiful rather than the true, and in order that he may love the good it must also be made to appear to him under the form of beauty. A young man does not know yet how to appreciate that calm joy that the sight of truth gives to intelligence ; he looks first of all for beautiful impressions, for the most seducing pleasures which make the heart leap for joy and moves her sometimes even to relieve herself in the overflow of poetry and enthusiasm with which she is filled. Love of beaiity when it is pure and strong has something serious in it which raises the soul to God, in augmenting in her the thirst to see and taste the supreme good in whom all beauty is contained. '' I do not know," said a young philosopher, " but one desirable thing here below, and that is beauty ; and still it is not a good only so far as it excites and bri2:htens our desires, not because it fills and satisfies them. It is not purely a dis- 220 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. traction that I look for in the arts and in nature, I feel that the love I have for the beautiful is a positive love, for it is a love which produces suffering. The splendor of a night, the calm of a landscape, a breath of soft air passing over the face divine purity in the face of the Madonna, a Greek head, a Yenus, a song, ' que tout cela me remplit de souffrance ! ' The greater the beauty is we see, the more it leaves the soul ' inassouvie,' and tilled with insatiable imagination." ^ Thus that beautiful faculty the imagination finds in love that which is truly beautiful, a means of true elevation and the source of the noblest joys. To avoid the predominance of imagination in children and young peoj^le, one would do well to habituate them to think sometimes without imagination, and by pure ideas. Mathematics here would be of very great utility. Be on your guard and do not permit indiscrimi- nate readings of certain works where the imagination holds too prominent a place ; or that (1) Alfred Tonnelle. NATURAL HISTORY. 221 exalts inordinately. It is the same with thea- tres and all that has too much infatuating •eclat. Religious pomp in worship is the most imposing sj^ectacle, and the most capable of acting effecatiously upon youth. The beauties of nature, the view of the country, the brilliant flowers, this is the aliment that can be produced for him with a prodigal and fearless hand. What varied resources will one not find in natural history, the study of plants, of insects and minerals ! What ideas and proofs of natural philosophy will the ordinary phenome- non of nature explain ; a charming recreation and not less useful ! They show that this universe is not a closed book — un livre ferme for children, but on the contrary always a living proof of the power, goodness and providence of the Creator ! Let us observe in the meantime, that in order to offer this usefulness, and raise the soul near to God, these studies sliould not be limited, as they too often are to classifications and definitions; nothing is more fruitless. N^atural history 222 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. should be taught to children something after the manner of Buffon. A young man who at an early hour has formed a taste for this charming study, one can well say with a celebrated naturalist : "How is it that one does not alw^ays preserve an ardent taste for the natural sciences ? Whatever destiny awaits you, in whatever country of the globe you pass your days, nature will surround you by her phe- nomenons, by her wonders, when you will be in the midst of objects for study. " This collection that nature has spread out in such magnificence before eyes worthy to con- template them, will follow us everywhere, and they are superior to all those that time, art and power may present in temples consecrated to in- struction. " Ah ! never renounce the purest source of happiness which can be reserved to the human species ! All that philosophy has said of study in general, what ought we not to say of this constant and sweet passion, which becomes more active by time, burns without consuming, and leads us by so great a charm. In its begin- THE NATTTEAL SCIENCES. 223 ning it lias to observe the acts of the Creator's power, for its last end the perfecting of them in order to enjoy an interior peace, a concealed and inexpressible contentment. How she embellishes every object with which she is allied ! To what age, to what state, to what fortune does she not belong ? She enchants our youthful years ; she gives us pleasure in riper age, she adorns old age by flowers dissipating chagrin, calming grief and dispelling ennui. "No, after virtue, nothing can conduct us more surely to happiness than a love for the natural sciences ; there the imagination will have for itself a sanctuary ornamented with beautiful and holy pictures, each one of which will awak- en a sweet memory, a pure affection, and a celes- tial hope. The study of the arts of design and of painting, and of music, provided they are not permitted to interfere with what is more impor- tant in education, will serve to form this admira- ble faculty."^ We cannot do better than to recall here an (1) Lacepede, discourse de cloture du cours d' histoire naturelle. 224 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. admiral )le page froni T«>pfer. It is a father who gives in writing to his son some advice npon the study of the " l^eaux-arts." " Thou askest of me if it gives me j^leasure to see thee apply thyself, to imitate on paper the things which strike thee in the field or elsewhere. This question only causes me joy, in that it proves to me that thy tastes incline thee towards the culture of the ' beaux-arts.' " I know^ better than thee, my son, what life is : it is a continuation of labors and duties that must be accomplished in the midst of agitations and all strts of vicissitudes. These labors often painful must be broken by long hours of leisure, and it is the employment of this leisure time wdiich is a stumbling-block for men, of those at least who, like thyself, are so su- perior to others that they can find in constant exercise of powerful faculties a healthful ali- ment for their activity. " Look around thyself amongst ordinary men, how many consume their hours in sterile idle- ness, as inactive in mind as in body and leaving to a shameful loss those hours they could enrich THE STUDY OF NATURE. 22.5 to their profit and those of others ! How many are consumed in frivolous amusements, which have no other attractions than the foolish pleas- ure of vanity, or the gross appetite for good cheer! How many biases with all these things have recourse to injurious or even culpabable joys, and those too, among men of whom better things might have been expected ; for it is the minds most susceptible of good that idleness is most successful in ensnaring ! Wherever she finds coldness and death what has she to injure ? Wherever she finds warmth and life there she embraces and corrupts. "Happy then my son if thou inclinest towards a relaxation which preserves thee from that error of idleness and these unfortunate errors. Of all things which bear the name of pleasure and which serve for the recreation of men, there is none that I esteem more highly, more sweet and more preservative, more useful and more noble in its nature, more proper to occupy the mind and the fingers and conduct the soul towards the source of all that is beauti- ful and pure ; there are none in my opinion that 226 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. might not have something to lose in comparison, no, not even the culture of letters for which I profess so much esteem. " Letters give a livelier pleasure but less con- stant ; thej occupy the mind more but relax less, and in youth they are not without quicksands. But above all, my dear son, while the practice of the ' beaux-arts ' is suited to all, the prac- tice of letters cannot be suitable but for superior men. If the practical use of them is only to enlighten oneself by their brilliancy to drink from the beautiful cup, and become a faithful lover of it. Oh ! then, they are superior to the beaux-arts to lend charm to life and the most noble relaxation. But it is justly one motive more why I rejoice in the direction thy inclinations take thee ; for art and letters follow neighbouring routes which approach each other and finally cross. Thou has taken the one that will most assuredly conduct to the other. " Follow then my son, and fear not that I see thee without joy advance thyself towards these. happy recreations, from whence will flow the sweetest moments of thy life. After thou shall THE STUDY OF NATURE. 227 have crossed the first steps, or ratlier from the first steps, thou wilt see open up before thee an unlimited field of new joys, and little by little there reposing thy tent, thou wilt hasten every day to finish thy labors in order to return to thy dear solitude. There satisfied and peaceful, going from one sketch to another, till advancing in pro- gress in each one you will discover the art which which you strive to imitate, and in nature which serves thee as a model, things curious to the mind, useful to the intellect, or interesting to the heart. For there is in this species of labor a par- ticular advantage which explains how the mind is diverted by its occupations, those being more or less divided between physical and mental labors in such a manner that by employing several different faculties in their turn, thou art relieved from fatigue and rest is given through change of faculties. The most simple sketch you may make, of country or forest, dexterity, intelligence, observation, judgment and imasjina- tion will find each in its turu, its place and em- ment, without speaking of the attractive charms by those who are moved by the beauties of 228 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. nature. Those places of wliich thou wilt have reproduced the images, will become dear to thee.. The outlines however rude, that thou hast made, will ever retrace themselves, not only for the interest they had for thee, but with all the pleasure thou hast already experienced in paint- ing them. Join to this a natural sympathy al- ways ill common amongst those who drink at the same source, and to these delights may be added those of deep friendships founded on common tastes, also sweet and agreeable entertainments, where questions present themselves, sometimes grave and at other times gay, but always in- structive upon the subject of art. Where is the time for idleness, ennui or vice ? My son, after virtue there is nothing as praiseworthy as wisdom, and can wisdom clothe herself in more amiable traits than those of the muses ?" ^ As to the study of music, one too often shrinks before the difficulties of leading to the front the study of this with the rest, for the education of young people ; and notwithstanding these re- (1) Reflections et menus propos d'un peintre, Genevois par TOppfer, t, 1 ch. 9. MUSIC. 229 sources were created for them, what a gift is also given to tliem by a pure and finished taste for music ! Let one teach them early to despise tliat brilliant encore that is often too highly esteemed in onr day. Mendelssohn said with spirit that he preferred a clever mountebank dancino^ on an elevated rope, than one of those furious artists fatiguing the audience by his com- plicated scales and his deafening passages of strength! " I tremble for the days of a juggler," says he ; '^for the fear that he may break his neck moves and interests me, but I have not this sad recourse with a brilliant pianist.'- Let us en- deavor then to inspire a young man with love for the real masters ; if he is fortunate enough to appreciate them, they will offer to him the most attractive study and the most substantial pleas- ure. His mind will be elevated, and he will find there an entirely new language, increasing in interest as he advances in intimacy with it until he finds its unlimited capacity. La seule ou la pensee, Cette vierge pudique et d'une ombre offensee, Passe en gardant son voile et sans craindre les yeux. If a young man desires to succeed intelli- 14 230 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. gently in harmonious sounds, if lie has a taste for the strains sometimes majestic sometimes passionate of Beethoven, for the copions, tender, graceful genius of Mozart — if he go so far even as to enter into the severe mind of Bach, to his energetic and finished hymns, what friends he will have! He will see without ennui and without fatigue his hours run, even his entire evenings ! And if he be able to interest him- self in a great work, too mnch neglected, that of raising the standard of our religious music ! Oh! tlien, what happiness for him to contribute, to render to this august muse her true character, and to prevent its being degraded to other purposes, as we too often see it, even looking for applause as in a theatre. Will he not be happy, will he not merit all praise if he contributes to elevate, to purify the inspiration of christian music, and return to it the ancient integrity of her pure and chaste beauty ? If one is sensible of the infinite resources which are offered by music to the child one pretends to instruct, one must never be influ- enced by that false assertion that an indifferent TASTE. 231 master will do to commence with. It is in music as in every species of education; all de- pends upon the principles and impulse given at the point of departure. The first master in music should l)e chosen with the most minute care and enlightenment. IV. It matters little to have a fruitful imagination if one does not know how to discern skillfully amongst the multitude of things she produces, what is suitable and proper. This discernment, this choice is made by an- other faculty not less useful, but more rare, and is called taste. Taste is the sense of the beautiful, as judg- ment is the sense of the true. "It possesses a prompt discernment like that of the tongue and the palate, and like them precedes reflection; resemblino; them in being sensible and delicate, with regard to beauty; and too, like them rejects what is unpalatable with indignation; and often like them is uncertain, misleading and ignorant even if what is presented to it ought to please, 232 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. and having need sometimes like them, of the habit of self -formation." ^ "In its application to literature, one might say that taste is the spirit of adaptation in thought and style." ^ This facility seems to iis as well defined by the following extract : "Taste is the imperative sentiment of the pro- ductions of nature and art." ^ It is not optional and left to the caprice of each one : it forms itself, or perfects itself through knowledge and the study of models: which readily shows how important it is never to put at the disposition of children objects only that they may legitimately admire, or simply see their defects. What a powerful means to form the taste is the study of ancient and modern literature both sacred and profane! In which one may acquire an exquisite purity: a beautiful phrase is not for the scholar simply a beautiful phrase, and noth- ing more understood and tasted ; it supposes already a faculty exerted to feel and appreciate the beautiful. (1) Voltaire. (2) M. Patin. (3) Descuret, TASTE. 2^3 '' In beauty there is something real and fixed. A thing is not beautiful because it is admired by rote, but it is beautiful if it is admired by a great number of men : not because it gives them pleasure but because their pleasure manifestly comes from the fact that it is something in con- nection with their nature with what they have in common in their manner of judging and feeling. " Taste admits nevertheless personal prefer- ences ; the comparative shades of beauty should not be circumscribed in a manner too absolute."^ It follows then, that if the beautiful has de- termined conditions, the taste which discerns it should have rules which are not more arbi- trary than those ; but which repose upon princi- ples which are drawn from a profound study of human nature. Rules do not create beauty, but they instruct us how to become better acquainted with it, and extricate it from the blemish by which it is disfigured; they protect the taste against the fallacy of individual dispositions. (1) Riambourg, Oeuvres philosophiques. 234 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. It is for this reason rules are applied, but it is from the sentiment it has received them. ^'These things are very distinct : one may have a great deal of taste without having a suspicion of the rules, and reason perfectly upon rules without having the least taste." ^ A natural disposition must in this instance form the base of all culture : that instinctive sentiment of beauty will be enlightened, conducted and devel- oped by education. It is not possible to know how greatly the taste is chajiged by that which soils the conscience : the sentiment of beauty and that of virtue should be inseparable. " At every epoch and amongst all peoples corruption of manners gives a fatal thrust to taste, and, what is more deplorable ! a few years of disorder suffice to ruin that deli- cate fruit which required several centuries to bring to its maturity." ^ It is the same with the individual ; the most perfect taste will not be able to resist the cor- rupting breath of vice for any length of time. (1) Riambourg, Oeuvres philosophiques. (2) Descient. GENIUS. 235 Y. One admirable faculty is left for us to exam- ine, and that is genius,^ which has such a wonderful character to create. In the mean time imitation is not excluded : for if we will admire the genius who have invented in arts, we should also render thanks to those who have perfected their inventions. Genius sees, invents and makes perfect. It differs from talent in • that it is more exterior, and belongs more to a brilliant execution. While genius resides rather in the interior cen- ter of the intellect, the heart and the will it is the strength of the soul, its extent and power to conceive. One has genius for poetry and painting ; while another has talent for speaking and writ- ing. True genius is one, and nothing is more op- posed to it than that vague disposition which makes all genius equal . (1) This word comes from the Latin word genius, formed from genere, to produce, because the character of gen- ius is a particlar aptitude to create, to invent, to produce anew; by some it is believed to come from ingenium, quasi ingenium, because it seems to be the effect of a natural gift of a certain predisposition. 236 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. " There are the great captains," says Boiirda- loue, " who, independent of that, have very little genius." Genius and taste are very intimately uni- ted ; in the arts they cannot be separated with- out injurious effects. It is that which made Chateaubriand say that : " Taste is the good sense of genius." Genius raises and enlarges all that it touches — in government, in war, in letters, in arts, the man of genius sees what others have not seen before him, and makes what others have not known how to make. Quick conception, a glance from the eye, prompt and sure, rapid and firm execution, a fortunate audacity, such as these have the marks of genius. There is then the in- spiration of great thoughts and great things, which results from the development of all the faculties, notwithstanding it does not instruct it- self, but is acquired by study, which serves only to stimulate and excite it to reveal itself. The coun- sels of a master or a friend are for him, the breath which reanimates the smouldering sparks upon the hearth from whence bursts forth GENIUS AND TALENT. 23Y tlie living flame. M. de Chateaiibriaud, in speak- ing of the years of his youth, has said : ''I grew up near to my sister Lueile, our life converted in our friendship. It was during a walk that Lueile hearing me speak in glowing terms of solitude, said to me : ' You ought to paint all that.' Those words revealed the muse to me, a divine breath passed over me." In youth one often perceives in a young man the sparks of genius. Oh ! how necessary, then, is some generous, loving, devoted master ! But if he has not tact, he will pay no attention to it. Some whim of that child which will only produce ridiculous pride! He will be discouraged, and in order to conceal and cause to disappear what he terms originality, he will throw water upon a fire which might have the beginning of such great things. The genius that produces sur- prising results, even be they still imperfect, astonishes and causes admiration. It is a torrent whose source is rapid, unequal, and at times a wild and terrible beauty. Talent is more dura- ble ; the more it is used the less it is consumed. For this reason it is considered an indispensible 238 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. auxiliary to genius, to whose works it assures durability and perfection. Alas ! for we must say it, genius is rarely known and apj)reciated by its contemporaries. Homer, it is said, recited his verses from door to door, to earn his bread ; Camoens died in a hos- pital ; Tasso was steeped in misfortune and hu- miliations ; Milton saw himself reduced to the greatest misery in his old age ; Columbus, load- ed with chains, was confined in an odious prison for four years, after having discovered a new world. How many times it happens that a man of genius dies before coming to the knowledge that he had immortalized himself ! As a matter of fact, it is not genius that makes a fortune for a man or even secures happiness for him. For this reason the one who has received this magnificent but dangerous gift from heaven should, more than all others, depend upon religion to sustain him ; she alone in adding to his moral grandeur can be his support when attacked by persecutions and all trifling vexations by which he is ordinarily surrounded. She points out to him in another country the recompense for virtuous genius : the GENirS A^D INTELLECT. 239 palms and the crowns that do not fade away, and of which nothing can deprive him. Oh ! how a young man endowed with great talents, and possessing the principles of genius stands in need of a solid religious education ! How many favored souls have been crushed, or hardened in view of the injustice, jealousy and wickedness of men ! Their generous confidence wounded by bitter deception has left no place un- filled with despondency, or a pride which seeks to contend against suffering, and which justifies those words of Champfort : "At thirty years the heart must be broken or bronzed." It would be very wrong to confound genius with intellect. The word genius is a generic term applicable to the diverse ways of the intel- ligent soul, but which has equally a particular sense, distinguishing it entirely from genius. The characteristic of what one commonly calls the mind, is to show up the relations of things, to give direction to what one says, and grace to what one does. Genius is brilliant, talent is showy, the mind sparkles with a hidden but light living flame. More akin to imagination 240 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. than to judgment or good sense, tliat is why ^'good taste conies more from tlie judgment than from the intellect," ^ so it is not best to rejoice too much over children, who they say are ^'j^lein d'esprit." It may be only deceptive, and recalls those words of Yauvenargues : "A little good sense often causes wit to vanish." At the same time we are far from desiring to exact in a young man facetious or premature gravity which, when it has not the effect of con- straint, announces dullness rather than true solidity ; some humor always enters into excellent natures, and as they have wings to soar with, so may their wings mislead them. What is usually called " legerete d'esprit " is often nothing but the appearance produced by the quick movement. " Rapidity in change or motion is very different from thoughtless- ness, inattention, or superficial judgment." ^ In education one never should sacrifice solidity to brilliancy ; care must be taken, as La Fon- taine said : " Que le bon soit ton jours camarade du beau." (1) La Rochefoucauld. (2) Pensees de loubert. CHAPTEE IX. EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. Beauty is tlie splendor of truth, Plato says. This thought is very applicable to the subject we propose to treat, and of which " belles manieres '' should be the expression, the exte- rior manifestations, of a beautiful character, enlightened by a noble intelligence, and vivified by a virtuous heart. It is a species of bodily eloquence of which the gift to please, and to win hearts, is more than half composed ; manners form in the world that amiable quality that we call politeness ; and can compensate in a great manner for corporeal defects : and may I not say, they can, up to a certain point, supply that need to those of the mind.^ " It is not suffir-- cient that education develop, that she form, and elevate only ; like an artist who desires to leave nothing unachieved, she carefully polishes. (1) Essai sur le beau. 24:2 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. her work, that she may add that histre and grace, which will please and attract. Yes, education should polish every faculty of the child, the mind, the heart, the manners ; she pol- ishes virtue even, which would be, without that influence, like a rough diamond, which is wanting in brilliancy until all its little faces have been polished, through which light must shine. Politeness is the flower of humanity ; which is not sufliciently polished, neither is it sufficiently humane." ^ Education, conducted under French discipline, possesses that characteristic to a very high degree. It is said of a young man without politeness, that he is without education : so well are they convinced of the importance and happy effects of reflned manners ! Evidently we are not speaking here of an affec- tation of distinguished manners, that worldly gen- tility filled with foolishness and falseness ; we speak of simple, honest, and engaging manners, distinguished by that stamp of good taste, (1) Pen sees de loubert. MANNERS. 243 which from the first makes known, a young man bien eleve. How pleasant are the amiable forms in educa- tion, and how their absence obscures the most beautiful qualities ! Let us look at a young man who belongs to a distinguished family ; for ex- ample, he has the consciousness of being perfect- ly " comme il faut " in his dress, but of disagree- able or woundino^ manners. What a contrast! all harmony is broken, that young man is dis- pleasing. " Manners that are thought of but little consequence," says La Bruyere, " are often the criterion by which men judge for or against one ; while a slight attention paid to soften and polish them would obviate all unfavorable judgment." In vain a young man endowed with all this world's intelligence, if he has not polished, be- coming manners, he will receive severe criticism ; he will always be wanting in that heart reflection which constitutes tlie true, and only amiability. For as the poet has said : La politesse est a I'esprit Ce que la gr^ce est au visage ; De la bonte du coeur elle est la douce image, Et c'est la bonte qu'on cherit. 244 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. True politeness not only avoids all that could disoblige, but pays attention to the least thing which might please. It is forgetf ulness of one's self for others. She extends this feeling to her inferiors as well as to her superiors, and even to persons who are indifferent to her, with the just distinction that age, rank and merit demand. In a word, it is a desire to give pleasure to all with whom one is obliged to live, and finally in a manner to make the world happy around us — our superiors by our respect, our equals by our es- teem, and our inferiors by our goodness. Two qualifications constitute the essence of true po- liteness ; it must have love for its principle, and truth for its rule. One will be astonished perhaps that we make love the foundation of politeness. By so doing,one seems to transform into a Christian virtue what is commonly regarded only as an entirely natural quality, belonging to the people of this world. Let us not deceive ourselves on* this subject- No one is more polite and polished than a young man truly religous : that is to say ,wlio shows by hi& practice a true idea of what he owes to God and CHRISTIANS' POLITENESS. 245 to liis neighbor. It is easy to understand that nothing is more capable to inspire politeness, than that Christian spirit which imposes it upon us as a duty to love all men, and is the motive power by which we are induced to give them pleasure. Who was ever more amiable than a Francis de Sales, or a Fenelon ^ The most simple education, when it has had for its basis a profound and enlightened religion, will always produce good manners. The man who obeys the precepts of the evangelist is modest, attentive, full of deference for his superiors, and cordiality with his equals. He holds no disputes, and the sound of his voice has nothing brusque or imperative ; words of be- nevolence flow from his lips as pure and limpid as water escapes from the rock. From whence are drawn these innocent and enticing ways ? From the love she bears for her neighbor. Love feels no little rivalries ; neither is it susceptible of pride, nor the spirit of disdain, which charac- terize mere mediocrity ; she shuts her eyes upon the weakness of her brothers, exalts their virtues, and does not despair for the guiltv ; in a word, 15 246 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. her view extends far above, for she sees from on high. The politeness of the Christian, then, is only the science of little things, but the ex- pression, indeed, of a sublime sentiment in her principle, and filled with charms in its results. The heart is the birth-place of tnie politeness ; from thence it communicates itself to the actions, words, and linally to the entire demeanor of the person ; it regulates the appearance, gestures, the impressions upon the countenance, even to the style and manner of the body in our carriage, diffusing through them amenities, filled wdth attention, complaisance and regard which give to society its charm. What power does it not give to the young man, also, to influence those by whom he is surrounded ! How favorably it disposes them ! "It is by attractive manners and delicate attentions combined with the tact to discern when to be silent, or when to speak a propos, to devise the fitness requisite on all oc- casions, that the hearts of those with whom we live are to be won." ^ "It can be said that politeness is the express- (1) Saint Lambert. TRUE POLITENESS. 247 ion or imitation of social virtues ; it is the expression of them, if honestly felt ; and the imitation,only when adopted merely for outside appearance ; then it is false." ^ But we speak here of that true politeness those ought to have who preserve truth as their rule. '' There is no exterior sign of politeness which may not have a moral principle. A good educa- tion will be that which can give both the ap- pearance and the principle." ^ No one can be more polished in appearance than certain persons in the world who j)ride themselves upon their delicatesse and savoir- vivre, which are on their part nothing but pro- testations of friendship and compliments given through offered services, than which, ordinarily, nothing is more deceitful or less solid : lying demonstrations of sentiments that they do not possess, with evidences as much less sincere as they are more exaggerated. In place of sentiment filled with real affection or devotion, they sub- stitute far-fetched expressions, affected manners, (1) Duclos, considerations sur les moeurs. (2) Goethe. 248 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. and frivolous ceremonies by which they desire to mislead others ; if it be genuine, politeness makes the man ; exterior appearances are simply the index of the character he bears about with- in himself." ^ It is not less true to say of those persons, that in reality they are by no means as polite as they appear. It is painful to see parents sometimes inspire their children, when very young, with that affecta- tion of manners which is most disagreeable to see under any circumstances, and positively intol- erable in youth. Christian politeness is always true, is always the enemy of artifice and guile : nothing forced or constrained abides with her ; all is easy, simple, natural, because it is the ex- pression of noble frankness, a thousand times more amiable than the flattering language and affected airs and manners of certain classes in society. We are far from condemning accustomed usa- ges received in society, and even manners of speech which often seem exaggerated but of which every one understands the true sense and which (1) La Bruyere. MAXXERS AN ART. 249 are in use with the most estimable people. At the same time Saint Francis de Sales, who knew what the accej^ted usages of good society were, was not pleased to hear prolonged compliments, eulogistic phrases, too often void of sense and that were given and received Init to which was attached no real importance : he looked upon them as embarrassing to those who made them and oner- ous to those who were obliged to listen to them. Let us remember tliat if beauty is the splendor of truth, elegant manners should be the mani- festation of our truthful sentiments. We have said enough to show the high impor- tance attached to manners in the education of youth. In the midst of so many objects of pure fancy introduced in instruction why is there not more effort made to teach this precious art? For manners are an art. There are perfect manners, as also those which are praiseworthy and those that are false, but there are none that may be classed as indifferent. How is it, that amongst us we have no precepts to instinict us in this art ? The knowledge of manners would be more important to the happiness and to the 250 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. virtue of man than is usually believed. "If virtue conduces to exterior proprieties, they in turn also conduce to virtue ; manners are the reflection of good morals. Let us then cultivate lovely manners, simple and becoming." ^ III. But by what means are we to acquire these becoming and distinguished manners ? The best method, the most prompt and in fact the only one, is to frequent the society of those who possess them. It is scarcely credible with what facility children imitate the tone of voice, the air and demeanor of those under whose care they are placed ; for this reason it is most necessary that all those who occupy themselves in giving instruction should be models of good manners. Students will insensibly contract the manners, tones, and polish of their masters. "Politeness follows usages and received customs ; it is attached to times, places, and persons ; it is not the same for both sexes or f oi' different condi- tions ; the mind alone cannot divine it, it must (1) P^nsees de loubert. POLITENESS AT HOME. 251 be followed by imitation, and one shonld strive to perfect himself in it/' ^ Education applies itself iirst of all to that which is essential, commencing at its source : and when slie has formed the mind and the heart, from whence all good manners How naturally, will not this explain the impoliteness of certain young students ? could they well be otherwise ? their manners are the faithful expression of their hearts : they are as disagreeable as their hearts are bad. Who cannot understand by this " that the exact observance of proprieties is the mark at the same time of a good mind and of a good educa- tion « " ' It is in the family that the child should always exert itself to show that amiability which pro- ceeds from a true sentiment of affection. Alas ! one treats with extreme negligence a father, a mother, or relatives and friends whose existence ought to be made happy by tlie most ten- der care, wliile all thouglitful attentions are reserved for strangers. This is a great wrong : you may perhaps excuse your neglect by (1) La Bruy^re. (2) Madame Voillez. 252 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. saying; "but they know that I love thim, there is no need of my giving such proof to them." That all may be possible, but you who are oblig- ed to love them from the very nature of things, is there no necessity to say the same to them at least by your uniformly respectful conduct? If one dare to object that it is not convenient, my reply to him would be : there is no time to seek repose from the noble fatigue of being good, amiable and gentle, but during the hours of sleep. As to the details of deportment, and the different rules of politeness which are necessary to observe, it would not be expected of us to occupy ourselves here. We will only remark that at an early age children should be taught them, before they have been left to imbibe un- pleasant manners. It is easy to modify the manners in youth; but later it will become difficult . A shrub may be cultivated without trouble, and that direction given to its growth which best suits your desire. If it leans too much you raise it up again : if it is crooked you straighten it ; you sepra'ate itfc AS THE TWIG IS BENT. 253 branches, and give them any form or direction jou wish ; flexible and docile, it readily yields under the skillful hand of the gardener to whom its care is g^iven. But what would he be able to do should he wait until the stem became strong and knotty, and so to speak intractable ? and when age has hardened its coarse exterior and shall have taken away all its flexibility, will there be time still to straighten its distorted branches and give grace to its limbs ? Xo, that is impossible ; you would break rather than change its direction. This example holds good with a child and during his whole life he will be sub- jected to the influence of those manners that he was permitted to be taught in his infancy, and above all in his youth. CHAPTER X. CONVERSATION. I. "It is not always," says Plutarch, "in famous exploits that the virtues or vices of men show themselves most : an ordinary action, a word, a jest often makes known the true character better than bloody battles, sieges or memorable actions." In social relations, through conversation, we often judge of the education a young man has received. A writer full of tact and experience has said that the art of conversation would make a very interesting subject for the pen.^ In fact conversation occupies so large a part of our existence that it should not only present a happy distraction, a pleasure to life, but also the occasion to produce good, to instruct and render us better. (1) De Gerando; perfectionnement moral. SHOULD BE A COMMEECE. 255 The mind and heart will always find it advan- tageous to them ; in this manner they can possess an excellent means of education. To converse and to understand knowledge, above all, according to Plato, makes up the happiness- of private life. Conversation is a mutual discourse between two or more persons. "It is a commerce : if you enter there, without funds, the commerce cannot take place." ^ At the same time, that funds of knowledge and ideas are necessary to bring with you does not re- quire at all, after the example of certain persons^ that one prepare in advance the subject upon which to speak. Where would be the simplicity ? That which should animate first of all an entertainment is a spontaneous, unrestrained in- terchange of sentiments, brilliancy of repartee, the charm of a-23ropos : finally, brilliancy shown or pleasure given must emanate from within the individual, and not be a loan made on another mind of which each one may dispute with you the ownership. (1) Sterne. 256 CONVERSATION. How many things, says one, in conversing upon a subject, would not be thought of even, if we limited ourselves to the knowledge alone without speaking upon it. Thought becomes animat- ed, the mind is warmed up, and the heat produ- ces that which could not be drawn from its light. A word has wings, and is carried where one could not go by simple reflection. So that conversation be made agreeable, you must know how to give variety to the subject, how to adapt yourself to one just commenc- ing, without putting upon the tapis in its full force the idea wdth which you are filled and the specialty with which you are occupied. La Fontaine says of himself : " Diversity is my desire," which may as properly be used in regard to conversation. One should speak simply, and justly, founded on reason, w^ithout too much vivacity, but with, warmth, should the subject demand it ; avoiding the tone of superiority and sharpness which causes discussion to degenerate into dis- pute . Great talkers render conversation fatigu- ing, as long narrations absorb all the time. MUST BE SPONTANEOUS. 25T One is much more appreciated in speaking but little, and saying that little well. He who does not know how to be silent, will never obtain the ascendancy . In the mean time one must not assume the air of attaching too high a price to his words, and never leaving any to escape without parsimony and only at rare intervals. The same may be said of the affected modera- tion that certain persons have who desire to use care in the formation of their phrase . It is much better to speak incorrectly, and speak a little faster, in following the natural species of talent, temper of mind and character. A style too exact is not at all adapted to conversation : where a certain abandon should always reign, without too much negligence, but accompanied with just thoughts, and great propriety. That a young man may not be wanting in these rules, he must be inspired with the desire to abandon all manner of pleasantries which would lead to jesting or practical jokes, too easi- ly adopted in youth, but w^hich lead to a detestable habit. A refined and delicate pleasantry which agree- 258 CONVERSATION. ably stimulates without wounding, seasons the conversation, animates it and diffuses throughout a graceful gayetj ; nevertheless we are better pleased to say : '' We prefer one sensible re- mark to all epigrams and iinesse d'esprit." ^ What more misplaced, than jesting and joking, that species of merry Andrew, which excites a gross and entirely material laugh, so estranged from delicacy and dignity of soul ! Surely this can only change in a young man his sentiments of beauty, the end of whose stud- ies are to develop it. II. What then are the means to form a young man in this most charming and useful art ? It is with conversational style as with epistolary style : if one require a receipt for writing letters with success, there is but one answer to make to him : " You must possess mind, amiability and natural talents." The same language may be used to him who wishes to know the secret to converse well, only, (1) J. J. Rousseau. COMES FROM INTERCOURSE. 259 as example is above all, and especially on this point much more efficacious than any precepts, we will say that the principal thing to do, is to put a young man at an early hour in connection with those persons whose conversation is both distinguished and spiritual ; that he be intro- duced into well-chosen society, where mind and talent are admitted not only, Ijut honored and respected : where they do not, however, predomi- nate, for here, virtue and the heart should make the law. Then he will be formed and enlight- ened by contact with others ; but he will remain barren and fruitless amongst people uncultured and unamiable. Why, then, in the actual socie- ty of to-day, is frivolity valued at such a degi'ee, for little else than to play, listen to music, and to pass a tumultuous evening tilled with dissipa- ting pleasure? The charm of conversation is very little understood. What has been the cause of such a lamentable change ? Is it not the effect of a light and superficial mind, and that poverty of heart, which, before all else, seeks for pleasure? It is the heart above all which should make conversation love- 260 CONVERSATION. Ij, and bring to it sweetness, attracted by virtue and uniting them with affection which gives such a price to social relations. The best means to appear amiable, is to evince a loving disposi- tion. Alas ! we no longer live as a family. The parents all regard the day as lost, when some new pleasure does not come to tear them from tlie domestic hearth, teaching their children to attach no value to home and evenings, where each one haying fulfilled the duties of the day comes to find relaxation and repose in inti- mate interchange of thoughts and words : where heart speaks to heart, where a peace-giving caress, from a dear son, when the projects, not of ambition but of tenderness, endeavor to arrange for the future the possibility of living always together. These delights of the domestic hearth exist no more ; either must you receive a frivo- lous and insignificant crowd at home, or go to seek amongst others a distraction which may make you to forget that time is passing on, and with it leading us. It is evident that levity of mind, a character which seems to predominate in our midst, absolutely prevents us from appre- THE AKT OF LISTENING. 261 elating as we ought tlie pleasures of conversation. The mania to criticise every turn, or the detesta- ble habit of passing censure upon all subjects ad- vanced, changes conversation into a veritable tor- ment. " To write w^ould be a hundred times less painful than conversing with those people who are perpetually occupied in throwing coal-dust upon all that you think and all that you say. They make you sick. With them no relaxation is enjoyable. You must encounter a mental tilt, wrangle, or combat \" There are others whose every response opposes one with an evi- dent objection. The most persuasive language is to them like oil flowing on marble, and when they speak, their obdurate mind is like a hammer whose only effect is to break. " One reason why so few people make them- selves agreeable in conversation, is because there is scarcely one person who is not rather think- ing what he will say than to answer directly the one who is speaking to him. The most skill- ful and the most complaisant content themselves by only showing an attentive manner ; at the (1) Pensees de loubert. 17 262 CONVERSATION. same time one can see in their eyes, and the play upon the countenance a certain indifference to what is being said and a great anxiety to return to that subject upon which they desired most to speak. " We should consider that when we seek so much to please ourselves, the means are question- able to say the least by which we strive to please and persuade others ; let us remember, that to listen well, and answer well, is one of the great- est perfections one can possess in conversation \" Attention is a tacit and continual eulogy. " Let those who are occupied in bringing up the young," says Plutarch, "teach them to be care- ful listeners, and make them feel they must pay silent attention to what is said by others, and seldom speak themselves." This, then, is one of the greatest requirements of politeness, and above all is this true of youth. How very few people know how to listen ! How rare it is to meet with that indulgence and that attention which promote thought, that (1) Trublet, essais de litterature et de morale. THE ART OF LISTENING. 263 which render intercourse with one another so facile and attractive ! It is, however, incontes- table that " l'esj)rit " of conversation consists much less in showing it in oneself than to make an effort to find it in others. " The one that goes out from your entertainment content with himself and his intelligence, naturally is perfectly pleased with you." ^ The modest man always gives pleasure because he is careful never to wound another, and he loves to show the merits of those in the midst of whom he finds himself. He loves to admit, at least en passant, the thoughts and sentiments of others who have shown him their willing- ness to treat him with hospitality. He knows how to enter into their ideas ; and how to bear himself when differing from them, as well as he knows how to leave his own and return there again. " A great talent for conversation requires the accompanying degree of politeness ; and those who show this superiority over othei*s, are bound to secure great respect to themselves." ^ (1) La Bruyere. (3) Trublet, essais de litterature et de morale. 264 CONVERSATION. Ill There are men who are considered well educated, but who do not possess any conversa- tional talent. In some it arises from an incomplete education, in others from a certain indolence of character which makes no effort to please. In conversation La Fontaine appeared stupid ; J. J. Rousseau confessed his inability in lively repartee, and that he never found his response but at the foot of the stairs ; Corneille kept silent, or was careless in this particular, and accused himself of speaking badly. " J'ai la plume feconde et la bouche sterile, et conviens qu'on ne pent m'ecouter sans ennui que quand je me produis par la bouche d'autrui." Besides general conversation, there is a more special manner to entertain, by that amiable inter- course in which the soul abandons itself to the pleasure of intimacy. It is then, between two persons who know how to understand each oth- er, and whose minds are cultivated, that the heart expands, and tlie mind is elevated ; the most difficult questions are debated, and brought to the light ; then when thoughts and sentiments SHOULD BE A DELIGHT. 265 are mingled indiscriminately, and interchanged with one another, thej return better and more instructive. The conversation of an elder- ly man brings lessons of wisdom and experience to the young man ; that of a virtuous woman filled with tact and propriety, instructs him in the most delicate politeness, and in the graceful use of language. The intimate conversation of his own age, when it is well chosen, may procure for him the most salutary counsel, because it is received with more confidence. How is it we do not comprehend all utility and satisfaction that such a relation produces upon the mind and heart ? Most assuredly we do not speak of conversations like those of I'hotel de Rambouillet. Those were too full of affecta- tion, and La Bruyere has spoken very wittily upon this subject : " Is it so great an evil to speak as all the world speaks ? " But how advantageous it would be for us still, as in the last century, to have those agreeable reun- ions when conversation was one of the greatest pleasures of a well chosen and literary society: a picture that the society of to-day may look in vain for, if not in memory ! CHAPTEE XI. THE AET OF SPEAKING WELL. Undoubtedly many will be astonished that we should introduce here an art so nearly allied to that of manners. We only re- gret that the limits of this work force us to treat in such a rapid manner a subject which offers so much interest. The beauty of the French language, and the superiority of our nation in matters of scrupulous nicety and good taste, are incontestable facts. How does it happen then, that in the greater part of our houses of education, so few apply them- selves to discipline young people in the art of speaking well ? Who does not know the charm of an agreable conversation, or a natural and well meaning diction ? There is no person but can appreciate a correct, elegant, and expressive reader. The art of speaking well, be it in conversation, or be it simply reading in a loud voice, should de- A DESIRABLE ACCOMPLISHMENT. 267 mancl its proper place in instrnction. What did not Demosthenes, Cicero, and many others do to render themselves perfect in this art ! But, one will say, these lessons only make public speakers, who make a forced genius for themselves in trying to imitate pronuncia- tion, tone and gesture, and tlms lose all that is natural. No, the art of which we speak is not an imitation ; one must here, as in every other part of education, take his own nature to perfect, to develop, to put m play all its resour- ces, and make it show all its capacity. And this end cannot be attained without serious and persevering effort. All young people, endowed with the usual complement of talent, should come out from their studies in a suitable condition to speak be- fore an assembly, and receive at least a certain degree of approbation ; and without doubt they may in a measure become orators. What effect will a young man produce upon those who listen to him, if he does not know how to animate his thoughts, to give life to his sentiments, by the inflexions of his voice, the expressions of his face, 268 HOW TO SPEAK AVELL. and the variety of his gestures ? For " here is no less eloquence in the tone of the voice, in the look of the eyes, and in the personal carriage, than in the choice of words. ^ " It easy to conceive how much the physiognomy of the orator adds to a discourse, by the instinctive necessity one feels to see him, however perfectly he may be heard. Kot only every ear, but still more every eye is directed towards him who speaks. " The ancients considered the action as a very impor- tant part of eloquence ; they have carried the magic knowledge of utterance or delivery to a degree of j)erfection of which we probably have no conception, at least if w^e judge by the astounding effect attributed to them.^ " Do we not frequently see, says Cicero, orators of ordinary talents carry off all the honors for eloquence, through the merit only of action ; while orators otherwise skilled in their pro- fession, passed for mediocres, because they had not the talent for action l^ He refers to the judg- ment of Demosthenes, who gives to this merit the (1) La Rochefoucauld. (3) Orator Ch. 8th. (2) Le Cardinal Maury. ACTiox. 269 first, second, and third rank in tlie art of oratory. He adds : "If eloquence is nothing without ac- tion, and action, divested of eloquence, has such force and efficiency, its extreme importance in speaking must be confessed." Quintilian did not fear to say; "I readily affirm that an inferior discourse, well sustained by the power of action, produces a greater effect than the best discourse, unsupported by ges- tures." That is easy to understand. The hearer finds himself surprised and delighted by the charm of an agreeable voice, by a noble pose of the body, or by an animated countenance. He himself anticipates his theories, he feels his nerves start, his feelings are in a tumult, he is enchanted, he is indignant, he is overcome, he yields, or he assumes an unwonted degree of dignity under the power of the speaker ; in fact he surrenders to him all the faculties of his soul. In 1821, M. Berryer was in the habit of hold- ing a weekly reunion at the Sorbonne for the law students of Paris, is order to give them les- sons in the theory and practice of legal eloquence, 270 HOW TO SPEAK WELL. at the bar. At the openin^^ of this interesting conrse, he announced to his mimerous pupils that he was iirst going to try to teacli them how to read» Seeing in his audience a inovenient of sur- prise and even some smiles, he said : " I knew well, gentlemen, I should surprise you and ex- cite your laughter, in announcing lessons in learn- ing to read ; for, notwithstanding I have not the honor of your acquaintance, I am convinced there are very few amongst you who know how to read well. You understand I do not speak here of a mere materially made reader, recto tono / no, it is of an expressive and feeling reader I desire to speak ; of a reader who prepares himself in advance, and who strives to render himself agree- able and attractive by the charms of debate." Having said this, M. Berryer selected an ex- tract from one of the Barristers of Linguet, and designated three of the pupils, taken indifferent- ly, to prepare themselves to read the coming week. " I have chosen this extract," said he, " be- cause I regard it as a chef-d'oeuvre of finesse in grace and delicacy. If it is well read, you will THE ART OF READING. 271 find in it flashes of wit that will delight you ; if it is indifferently read, you will see nothing to excite your interest ; on the contrary, it will fatigue you to listen to it." Eight days then passed ; every thing was made ready for the new reunion. Great curiosity wa& experienced to see the issue of this proof. The reading became very long and tiresome, produc- ing only ennui. M. Berryer after having shown the defects in the diction of each of the students, took the book saying : ^'Am I deceived then gentlemen, in the beauties that I believed were contained in this tract, and cannot they be made apparent? Let us see." Then, said a witness to this scene, commenced a reading of which here I am not able to give the most faint idea. I do not believe the sub- lime speaker had accomplished the reading of one entire phrase, before provoking an indescrib- able clapping of hands and stamping of feet, joined to the most enthusiastic applause. Each word was made to express its exact meaning. A few moments' suspension of the voice would ■^72 HOW TO SPEAK WELL. announce some beautiful lines, whose spirit, when it came to be understood, would delight every one. The hand unoccupied by the book seemed to conduct the words to the soul of the listener, and one penetrating glance from his eye buried and engraved them there. We never till then S£» profoundly felt all the power a good delivery All those who have heard the R. P. Lacord- aire knew what an extraordinary charm was ad- ded to the merit of his conferences, I should say the enchantment almost of his oratorical action. Father Bernard, a celebrated preacher, was often solicited in his old age to have his sermons published, but he constantly refused, saying, and not without good sense ; " I readily consent, if you will at the same time publish the expression of the preacher." So much did his delivery add to the value of his sermons ! All men who have had any ex- perience in oratorical art, are unanimous with the ancients, in their opinions of the power of READING AKD DELIVERY. 2Y& action. It is that which gives the highest im- portance to a course of which diction is the object. II. But if there are houses of education where this art necessarily demands a special cultivation it is certainly in seminaries where young men from the nature of their studies have put them- selves in a condition to persuade men in order to make them better. In these houses there are the most urgent motives, the greatest facility in means, and finally the most worthy end in view that this world can present. For this reason all who understand the impor- tance of education in theological seminaries have a lively desire that in these houses particular at- tention should be given and care taken in read- ing and delivery. This will be the only means to remove certain much-to-be regretted defects in the pronunciation of many young men who come in from the country to study well this awk- wardness and want of easy, natural manners, that they would not have, perhaps, had they been ac- 274 HOW TO SPEAK WELL. customed to a social and easy style of conversa- tion. It appears to ns, above all in small semi- naries, that a course of diction^ would be a study entirely indispensable. Is there anything more saddening and less worthy of the inestimable grandeur and value of truth, than the false monotonous tone of some bawling, coarse declaimers, so-called orators? All charm is lost by their voices, and the most beautiful discourse will become trifling and in- sipid when delivered by them. C'est en vain qu'un docteur qui preche I'evangile M^le chretiennement I'agreable a I'utile ; S'il n'a point un beau gerte a I'art de bien parler, Si dans tout son dehors il ne sait se regies, Sa voix ne charme plus, sa phrase n'est plus belles ; D^s I'exorde j'ai pire a la vie eternelle: Et dormant quel-que-fois sans interruption, Je recois en sursant sa benediction, ~ Beside, it is necessary that every person should know how to read well. It is an extremely rare talent,however ; you are unquestionably safe in af firming that among a hundred students having ter- minated their classical studies, five or six only at the most know how to read in a satisfactory (1) Le P. Vanlecque, chanoine regulier de sainte-gene- vi^ve. (2) In the larger seminaries a course of diction is made a part of the course of sacred eloquence. ART CONCEALS ART. 275 manner. From what does this defect in educa- tion arise ? From the little importance attached to giving children at an early age the habit of distinct pronunciation, in a correct tone of voice, and with intellio:ent delivery. We have no desire to make comedians, nor to attempt to inspire young people with ridiculous pretension, or affected precision. On the con- trary, all art consists in concealing itself in order to show yourself natural, easy, true, but at the same time agreeable, even in all things. Rien n'est beau que le vrai ; le vrai seul est aimable. Neither is it to be deceived with regard to the real value of things, but to search for it in reading or oratorical delivery, to bring to light its hidden thoughts and style; it would be to have a very absurd idea of education that would by a misdirected love of simplicity, cause to be neglected the graces of diction, in simple reading or delivery. D'un debit lieureux rinnoceute imposture, Sans la detigurer embellit la nature; Et les traits que sa muse eternise en ses chants, Recetes avec art enresout plus touchants : lis laisseront dans I'ame une trace durable. 276 HOW TO SPEAK WELL. D'un genie eloquent empreinte inalterable; Et sein ne plaira plus a tous les gouts divers Qu'un organe charmant, dirant bien, de beaux ac'^ * The best means to cultivate this art de hien dire is to read with care a literary passage, and require them to repeat it until they shall fully comprehend its different shades of meaning. " In this manner they will learn to relate, not to recite. From the time the child commences to read fluently, never permit him to pronounce in a loud voice, nor recite by heart a piece with- out having spoken and repeated it sef eral times to him, with all the precision you are capable of manifesting, having previously explained to him what would be likely to embarrass his limited intelligence. Have no misgivings ; the child, a born imitator, wdll finish by reproducing your tone, your gestures, your expressions of voice,, and sometimes will give expression even to the most delicate shades of meaning contained in the sentiments you have expressed."^ (1) Francois de Neufchateau. (2) Descuret. CHAPTEE XII. EXTERIOR GRACES. I. We have spoken snccessivelj of politeness, conversation, and diction : but it is evident that the three qualities united are necessary to produce grace in the exterior. They form in a thoroughly educated young man a harmonious combination which recalls to mind the three graces, under which emblem the ancients have left us charm- ing and useful lessons. Socrates, the most ingenious Philosopher of antiquity, caused to be exposed in the citadel of Athens, at the entrance of the temple of Minerva, a picture which represents them. He sent his Disciples there to learn the secret of the graces at the school, of the graces themselves. Indeed in the presence of these symbolic representations they had only to ask themselves why each part represented some especial trait or idea, and the answer was made to comprehend every philoso- phical attraction and charm. 18 278 EXTERIOR GRACES. Why are the graces made in sucli a tall, slen- der and finished manner ? It is because harmony does not consist in grandeur, neither precisely in extreme regularity even, but in something refined and delicate. Why do they hold each other by the hand ? It is because the most beautiful qualities disunit- ed cannot form a whole, capal)le of ^^iving pleas- ure to us for any length of time. Why are they always laughing 'i Because nothing is more op- posed to gracefulness than a sad and sombre air. But why are they iuA^ariably rej^resented as young ? It is not to exclude from their empire the other ages of human life, but to show to us that they rejuvenate all by their natural charms. It is not necessary to ask why they are portrayed modestly ; they are supposed to be virgins, oth- erwise Minerva would have cast them out of her Temple. Still less is it necessary to ask why they are so decorously draped, for decorum is the essence of gracefulness.^ Uj)on this model a young man's politeness, conversational talent, and diction, should be founded. The applica- (1) Essai sur le beau. OLD AGE MADE ATTRACTIVE. 279 tion is easy, for in this manner only will he become perfected in graceful manners. In these three qualiiications which serve to form our manners, it is much less granduer and talent which we should show than a delicate and wise choice. They must l)e united, for what will politeness accomplish without conversa- tion ? and would the latter, unaccompanied with diction, possess any grace ? They should be smiling and agreeable that they may present themselves under the most amiable appearance ; without which they have no power to please. Finally it can be said that they rejuvenate all. Yes, affable and dignified manners, accompanied by tact and good taste, give even to the most advanced age an extraordinary grace — however grave — which delights, attracts and inspires respect. " Politeness removes wrinkles from the face.'-^ What charming society does that make of those advanced in age who have preserved noble and agreeable manners ! They resemble trees, (1) Pensees de loubert. 280 EXTERIOR GRACES. that though charged with years, still offer flowers, graceful and beautiful, like the ground arbutus, which encircles the environs, with this difference only that their fruit is more abundant. I will only add that the deportment should be modest and becoming ; this character is so prop- erly their own, that La Harpe has said : " Pro- priety is the safe-guard to public morals." II. There is one exterior qualification which denotes more than most believe — I'esprit de convenance — or a becoming style of dress — in the character of a young man, and which, furthermore, is so closely allied to grace of manner, that we feel little disposed to omit some mention of it — that is the selection made in dress in order to be well clothed. The man who is disposed to seek every means to distinguish himself, ought not to disregard or omit to pay proper attention to the accessories of distinction ; always simple, but at the same time becoming, he must discern what he owes to others, and to his own age, rank, and position. THE APPAKEL. 281 He has too much excellence in his character, not to observe a corresponding comparison in his external appearance. It is true that while he should not follow the fashions with too much exactness, still he must always avoid shocking them, at least so that his appearance may not sub- ject him to ridicule. To make one's self its slave, belongs to those lazy and vain coxcombs who imagine they will be able to redeem their nothingness by using ex- treme care in their toilet ; but to affect a different style of dress from others denotes a proud, opin- ionated, censuring spirit, and one wanting in tact. You must be a La Fontaine to be tolerated in wearing your clothes wrong side out. To con- clude, good taste in order to harmonize with the respect we owe ourselves and others calls for a proper and becoming dress relieved by a modest elegance. The fop adorns himself, but the wise man dresses himself, and " in the matter of or- naments," Montesquieu says, " always limit your- self within your means." " Genuine grace," says Fenelon, ''does not depend upon vain and ef- fective ornament. It is true you can seek clean- 282 EXTERIOR GRACES. liness, proportion and symmetrical elegance in the garments necessary to cover the body. But after all, the stuffs which we use for cloth- ing ourselves and which we may make both convenient and agreeable, can never be the orna- ments which give true beauty." '' A wise man leaves his tailor to select a suit- able style for him ; there is as much weakness shown in ignoring the fashions, as there is in affecting them."^ The continual change to which, in part at least, a sensible man is obliged to submit, is a very disagreeable thing indeed. " Fashion destroys herself, she aims always at perfection, and never tinds it, at least she is never sat- isfied when it is found. She would be reason- able if she changed only to change no more, af- ter having found convenience and gracefulness ; but to change for an unceasing change, is it not rather inconstancy and derangement they seek, than true polish and good taste ? Thus, ordina- rily, there is nothing but caprice in the fashions."* (1) La Bruy^re. (2) Fenelon. LET THE CORE BE SOUND. 283 • Nevertheless, it is a necessity to which one must submit. There are the rudiments of propriety, therefore, with whicli from an early age young people must be inspired, for they will form in them that grace of exterior whose influence upon the relations of society are so great, where one may say a good mien is power. At the same time let us never forget that it is in vain we cultivate, ornament, and polish the form, if the foundation is wanting, if the intelli- gence be not enlightened, and if the heart is not good. Innocence, virtue, and religion — always neces- sarily combined with a good education — still these virtues form the superstructure upon which all we possess which is beautiful must be founded. " A child that has preserved up to twenty years his innocence, is at that age the best and the most amiable of men."^ (1) J. J. Rousseau. CHAPTER XIIL THE CHARACTEK. I When education has exerted its influence upon all the faculties, and in following the orders of nature she has developed them in a just propor- tion, there is produced over the entire being of the child a general effect, a deep and abiding influence,a moral stamp which distinguishes what is called the character/ " It is " says Yoltaire " what nature has engraved in us." This defi- nition is incomplete, for it does not acknowledge the effect of education, neither the notable modifications she would produce on some natures. Without referring here to the different ways in which this subject has been defined, -we (1) Ce mot, d'apres I'etymologie Grecque x(^P<^^^VP signifie empreinte, figure, marque particuliere ; et ce sens transporte au moral a produit le nom de caractere, dont il est ici question. INDIVrDUALITY IN CHILDREN. 285 believe we shall give an exact notion of it by saying that the character is the physiognomy of the soul. Indeed, when looking upon a large gathering of children, I see that each one has his own physiognomy, an assemblage of traits which are wholly different from every other. They may resemble each other, but the resemblance will never be perfect. Always some shade of differ- ence in the expression, be it in the look, be it in the lips, be it in the entire face, a distinction will be estabHshed. Tlien it is the same of character, and if I could penetrate the exterior envelope, I should see that the soul of each one of these children has a physiognomy, an individual expression in each child. That is cliaracter. As many varieties as there are in the face, so many are there in this interior physiognomy, with this difference that the embellishments of the traits which strike the eye, depend very little upon us, while we might work very effectually to modify, to embellish our own character, and also those of the children over whom we are placed. 286 THE CHARACTER. We may add, that as far as the sonl is supe- rior to the body, so much more is the beauty that we call its physios^nomy, superior to it& physique. Now we see how, above all other considerations, we are brought to attach the greatest value to a beautiful character. When we think of the extraordinary influence that the character has upon the whole life of a man, it is evident to see that in it is found the principle source of his merits or demerits, of his happiness or his misery. If the one from whom the chief sum of human happiness has been removed here below, would write day by day his life impressions and vicissitudes, it would be an exceedingly useful collection or diary : one would certainly see there that the character contributes more to happiness than all other things combined ; it is a certainty that health and fortune, however good they may be in themselves, are not indispensible to our happi- ness, that tlieir absence alone is not necessarily an irreparable misfortune, and that a beautiful character offers to the unfortunate the happiest recompensation. " The supreme goodness of THE MAN OF CHARACTER. 28T God," says Pope, " has put onr happiness into- our own hands : it depends upon our character." Let us examine society with a little attention,, and we shall see that above all the character of the man exerts over others more or less a great influence. " Le character est dans le monde, Un pouvoir plus sur que I'esprit." ^ In fact, he who is capable to give a just esti- mate of well formed characters, is one w^ho has received the impress of an education where nothing has been neglected, where each faculty has received assiduous care, and which has con- tributed its complement of light, of virtue, and of moral beauty, to this admirable ensemblage from which results a complete character, truly made for the happiness and ornamentation of society. Yes, an accomplished character inspires such a lively interest, makes its sweet empire felt in such a manner, and presents something so amiable that it is almost impossible to prevent one feeling its charm and attraction ; you not only experience a pleasure in yielding to its (1) Delille. ^88 THE CHARACTER. law, but take delight in condescending to its will. The one who by dint of care, vigilance and effort, influences his own character is the one who acquires this precious treasure ; in testing himself its value, he has moreover the joy of rendering all that surround him happy by gaining their affection, and in inspiring them with the desire to work to accomplish the same lovely results upon themselves, by modelling themselves after such a beautiful example. II. It is in the early years of life that we must ap- ply ourselves seriously to form the character of a child ; at that age, the bad germs that each one possesses at his birth have not yet been able to show the depth of their roots, nor to de- teriorate his natural faculties ; at the same time it is easy to see their budding faults of char- acter like so many spots that insensibly diffuse themselves , until finally they soon conceal the beautiful characteristics of the picture. If a mother perceives on the face of her child EARLY TRAITS. 289 a disagreeable spot, does she not hasten to efface the blemish ? See how all mothers pay the most exact attention to give their children every possible exterior grace ; we do that for the body only, for that physiognomy of the face that time will soon fade ; but for the sonl should we not do much more ? Has not the character necessities of much higher importance and do they not claim the most assiduous care ? From its earliest infancy nature shows traits of extreme power and significance, and those that are readily seized upon. Yes, they are there — under the eyes of an attentive observ- er — with the good or the bad tendencies of a child's character. He is sluggish or sprightly, submissive or willful, of a mild and sweet tem- per or of perverse inclinations, patient or ex- citable and irritable, generous or selfish. A little serious scrutiny is sufficient to discover these shades, the particular inclinations, and pre- dominate faults. When once the principle is known which ex- erts its pernicious influence over all the faculties, and would also change all the lineaments of the 290 THE CHARACTER. physiognomy of the soul, a child must be made to comprehend that it is a pernicious germ, a lamentable inclination, which is productive of all deformity and its consequent evils ; these must be shown to him, the beauty and charm of a character exempt from this defect, and above all tell him and repeat to him. without ceasing, that he can correct himself, and that at his age it is very easy to do so, and that he cer- tainly will correct himself and will acquire the qualities which make a beautiful character, on one condition only, that is, if he desires so to do, s'il le veut. The most important thing then is to determine his will and to constantly sustain that will by frequent encouragement. One will understand readily that religion with its succours and graces will here prove the most powerful means of reform and of embellishment for the character. III. What trouble is in store for the future of a child if he is neglected in the correction and formation of his character ? Yicious habits en- grave themselves so easily upon their soft and RESISTAJTOE TO INCLINATIONS. 291 tender natures ; age only fortifies them and one day perhaps he will be heard to say ; " I cannot do otherwise, it is my nature;" indeed his soul will be contracted to such a degree that all his faculties yielding to this predominant and natural inclination will have produced in his entire being an irresistible effect which will become in some sort second nature. It may be a passionate, hasty nature that only listens to the gushing of its own impetuosity, leading him on to excess unknown to himself, and rendering him insupportable: or, by way of contrast, a soft, weak disposition, incapable of acting, never find- ing pleasure except in repose, an enemy to all labor, and to all serious effort, dozing in the apathy of a fruitless will; or still another exam- ple of an inconsistent and feeble nature, which has no stability, which after the most generous im- pulses and resolutions made with the greatest sin- cerity, abandons a good commencement and re- signs itself to a wind which veers it about in every direction, a changing character, un- dertaking all and acheiving naught ; like a trav- eler who sets out a hundred times on his voyage 292 THE CHARACTER. and stops as many, making long detours from the actual routes. Finally it may be an opioniated nature, hard, proud, insensible, and dissimulating : whichever quality it may chance to have with its peculiar genius, and its own features, this unfortunate nature would be infinitely difiicult to modify. In this work effort will appear useless ; twenty times it will start about correcting itself; one will commence and will believe to have obtained an effective victory, and twenty times the character will reappear under its indomitable form, like to the Hydras in the Fable, whose heads immediately grew again when cut off, like a branch one tries in vain to return to place after the fastening is broken ; in vain the hand props and essays to fix it ; always ungovernable, it rebounds and relaxes ^the moment you cease to hold it firm. It is of these neglected characters and of these natures which have become rebel- lious, that Horace has said : "Naturam expella furca tamen usque recurret." And Boileau, " Chasse le naturel, il revient au Galop." THE LITTLE FLAW WITHIN THE LUTE. 293 La Fontaine has expressed the same thought, but in a more piqnante manner, when he says : " Qu'on lui ferme la porte au nez, II reviendra par les fenetres." One fanlt only of character is sometimes sufficient to throw into the shade the most beantiful qualities ; trifling faults serve to lessen esteem for men of the most commanding talent. Such men are considered as possessing an ordinary talent, while if their character had been well formed,they would have been justly consid- ered men of superior minds. It was that which caused Fenelon to write as follows to the Duke De Bourgogne : "Above all guard against your predisposition to humor ; it is an enemy that must be your constant companion, even until death ; it will enter into your counsels and betray you if you listen to it. Wit and humor cause the most important occa- sion to be lost ; they influence the inclinations and aversions of children even to the prejudice of the gravest interests. They decide the greatest affairs with the least reason ; they obscure every talent, weaken all courage, and render a man 19 294 THE CHARACTER. capricious, weak, vicious, and insupportable. Distrust this enemy." Such is tlie effect of an undisciplined mind. Will it be thought, after the above description, that it is of little impor- tance to be solicitous about what is commonly called only an imperfection of character ? It is not sufficient that, in a natural point of view, the moral physiognomy may have been formed and embellished. The most beautiful lustre should take its origin in a higher source. Piety must be added to vivify those characteris- tics already so graceful, in order to throw upon this amiable figure some rays of supernatural beauty ; let a celestial influence come to complete the picture, in producing a beautiful and pious character. If one of our great artists was painting accord- ing to all the rules of art, a face to which he was giving the most lovely expression in his power, we would have reason to admire it as a chef d'ceuvre ; but let another artist come animated with the spirit of christian faith ; it maybe, for example, Fra Angelico da Fiesole, the pious Dominican, and after having communed a THE ARTIST TOUCH. 295 long time with heaven, he takes liis pencil and brush and adds some features to the work of the first artist's painting ; what a new expression, what a different life is unexpectedly communicated to the picture ! it is no longer a natural beauty ; exemj^lifying all the rules of the most perfect art, it is a beauty all celestial ; a divine breath has just passed over this canvas, and communicated to it one grace more, which, without changing the substructure or the harmony of its charac- teristics, gives to it a supernatural truthfulness. How beautifully piety affects the character of a child. Nothing is changed in what con- tributes to the essential ; the foundation of the impressions still remains with the distinctive inclinations, which are all his own features ; but there is a heavenly influence that steals over him like a zephyr, bringing a grace which adds eclat and embellishment, in fact elevates him to a supernatural life. One feels that the divine artist has touched this chef d' ceuvre, and there left the trace of his brush. Xothing is essentially changed, but all is adorned, elevated and made heavenly. If his 296 THE CHARACTER. character was spiritual, sprightly and loving it still is the same ; if it was sweet and patient, this it always remains ; if it was ardent, complacent and devoted, it preserves all these qualities un- changed ; but they are modified by a christian spirit which sanctifies, elevates and ennobles all his inclinations. " Besides, there are no two men to be found that resemble each other perfectly." So we will not find two souls in whom piety reproduces itself in all points under the same form. Grace, according to the beautiful and profound words of St. Thomas, does not destroy nature, but makes it perfect. Is it not an admirable thing to see piety, im- movable in its principles, diversified in its mani- festations and in its forms, and still so perfect in its adaptations to different dispositions and per- sons? It is thus it appears to us in the saints, according to their various characters ; ardent and impetuous as in Paul ; calm, sweet and ten- der as in the beloved disciple St. John ; anxious and active, as in Martha ; collected and con- templative, as in Mary ; firm and constant, as in FORMS OF PIETY. 297 Athanasius ; eloquent and profound, as in Agus- tine ; laborious and erudite, as in Benedict and his children ; courageous and warlike, as in the military orders, who devoted themselves to the defense of the holy places against the Infidels ; poor, vulgar mendicants, mad with love and longing for self-sacrifice, as Francis and his in- numerable disciples : it takes from men and things all that it finds in unison with it- self and constructs the form under which it desires to reproduce itself, like the bee who builds his cells with the dust and pollen he gath- ers from the flowers. But the spirit which lives in it suffers no changes. It is always the spirit of Christ, that spirit of charity, of devotion and of sacrifice, which makes us forget our- selves, to live for God and our brother. If then we wish to be pious, not only for our- selves, but for others — and let it be first for ourselves — let us select among the different forms of piety, that which is best suited to our own character. If God has given us an ardent soul, let US not seek to extinguish its fire,but leave the breath of the holy spirit to move over it, to 298 THE CHARACTER. preserve it in its ardor. If a share has been given US in a rich and active imagination, let lis take care not to impoverish or exhaust it. Let lis turn towards heaven, and let us hold it there exposed to the rajs of that beautiful light which eternallj £:ushes from the bosom of God. If we have a cool, calm and positive reason, let us not seek to illumine a facetious or fictitious fire, nei- ther try to affect sentiments in our hearts which do not accord with its nature : but follow the path which God has marked out for us and given us natural inclinations to seek ; as if to attract us there. ^ From whence comes then, that holy religion with its divine influence ? Thus may it come to inspire a sweet and tender piety in the child, for nothing is better suited to his heart ; nothing is more necessary to his life, and nothing is more powerful to form and embellish his character. "Piety is useful and profitable to all things, having promise of the life that now is, and that which is to come." And while it seems only (1) Pious hours of a young man, by Ch. Sainte Foi. THE POETRY OF THE HEART. 299 made to assure onr immortal destiny, it is still, here below, the source of all our joy, of all our felicity, and in making lis better, it cannot fail to make us happier. " Religion is the poetry of the heart, it gives us happiness and virtue^ Devotion embellishes the soul, and above all, the soul of youth." ^ (1) Pens^es de Joubert. CHAPTER XIY. WORK. I. Man having come to tlie age where his develop- ment is more particularly his own work, should find in labor, which is the law of his life, one of the most powerful means to perfect himself. "Labor elevates the intellect, enlarges the heart, fortifies the will, preserves the body, and renews the senses ; it is this that sanctifies the soul and makes our nature fruitful." For this reason nothing is more important in educa- tion, than at an early moment to encourage the young in serious habits of industry. But, alas ! how little this principle is understood ! Some- times parents of wealth will be heard to say : Our fortune is sufficient, our son has no need to work — unfortunate words, but too true ! l^o, the child to whom you have never taught the necessity of industry, in order to be useful to his neighbor, or to make an honorable place and name THE LAW OF LABOR. 301 for himself in the world, will not work. And what right has he to refrain from labor ? The man, whoever he may be, is he placed on earth for no purpose ? '' Man is born to labor, and the bird to fly." ^ So true is it that when he does not work, ne rien faire^ he forsakes the element of his life, and ceases to live as a man. Do you not see how every living thing in the universe has some employment ? Consider the heavens and the earth, vegetation, animals, all organized beings ; they labor to exist — it is nature at work. To the idler, or the inactive man, the Scriptures sa,y : " Go to the ant, O sluggard, and consider his ways, and learn wisdom." ^ Had this great law of labor not been imposed upon man as the habitual expiation of his faults, still it would be o^iven to him to exact the homage of his being towards the sovereign Lord, to whom we must render an account of every moment. Adam himself, before his fall, enjoyed a ]3lace of delights, abounding in every good thing ; do not believe, however, that God in put- (1) Job 5, 7th. (2) ProY. 6, 6tli. 302 WOKK. ting him in this happy situation, and lavishing upon him such riches, left him to be idle. ''And the Lord God took man and put him into the Paradise of pleasure, to dress it and to keep it." ^ Certainly it is not to be supposed it was painful or fatiguinfij labor, accompanied by lassitude and transpiration, as after he had sinned ; in sudore vultus tui vesceris pane ; at least it was work. A noble and worthy condition of human ex- istence ! Adam did not work to procure the fruits of the earth, for they were most spontaneously lavished upon him, but he worked to cultivate his faculties as a man, and enrich his life by industry, as the earth is enriched by the dews of heaven, for such is the command of God. But often it will be said, I have a position which is assured to me, I have nothing to do. You have nothing to do ? if you please, tell me how can that be ? is it because you are rich ? Yery well, let me use the words of a pious bishop, and say to you : " Because you are paid in advance, does that release you from the obliga- tion of striving to merit your salary ?" ^ (1) Gen. 2, 15th. (2) M. Borderies, ancien eveque de Versailles. ARISTOCRATIC IDLENESS. 303 What a useless life most men of tlie world live ! They have been young men little habit- uated to labor, and finding themselves in a dis- tinguished rank of life, consume their fortunes in idleness. Visits, soirees, fetes, banquets, frivo- lous reading, this is the outline of their insignifi- cant existence. We often see those who look with disdain upon the man who by the sweat of his brow gains a scanty subsistance for his little family ! Notwithstanding, these poor laborers are in the discharge of a great duty, for they work, and the bread they eat is bought by an active life, while those we condemn here are lost by a shameful waste of time. Many persons believe themselves sufiiciently justified when they assert that their rank obliges them to refrain from manual labor. Undoubtedly it is necessary to maintain the position 3^ou occupy in society and the world, because noblesse oblige. That is true, noblesse oblige ; but what to do ? to do nothing? — Oh! then, that would be the debasement of a nature created for some- thing much more worthy ! What ! a noble 304 WORK. rank obliges one to be inactive, useless, seek- ing only pleasure, to frequenting theaters, to taking unnecessary journeys, and your rank obliges you to do nothing but that ! Does it oblige you to neglect useful labor, the cares of a family, the education of children, the alleviation of the poor ? 'No ; it cannot be thus, true noblesse is a very different thing ; and the most distinguished men of the society of to-day have a more worthy comprehension of their duties. To those men who by their idleness seem to renounce the dignity of a rank which should be their glory ; to these rich idlers would we not rather have a right to say : Eevery one labors for you, and in the midst of the general activity you alone do nothing ! And that because you enjoy acknowledged rank in society, you have a fortune, you have a name ! For that name perhaps you are indebted to the bravery or industry of your ancestors. Your name is not alone sufficient to render you worthy of honor. If you do not know how to bear that name it will serve to establish a greater contrast NAUGHT BUT A NAME. 305 still between what joxi are, and what yon onght to be. Go and read that name on the tomb of a trnlj worthy parent, and meditate for a moment npon the noble, laborious career of the one who left it to yon. When you leave this sacred spot, the Angel who keeps guard at this tomb will not recognize you, or will ironically repeat to you this verse of Euripides : " Je ne connais de toi que ton non," I know nothing of you but your name. We might be thankful to God if the lives of the greater part of these men could be limited to simple uselessness. But is it so ? Or can it be so ? Who is the one that without labor, will put a bridle upon his imagination, senses or passions ? Who will say to the tumult in his heart, thus far and no farther must you go ? If then, c»ne does not choose a real good, and occupy himself in useful labor and laudable activity, and does not put forth all his strength in this direction, it is greatly to be feared that, in order to supply tliis yearning void, he will 306 WORK. throw liimself into vicious lial)its. It is impossi- ble to tell where idleness may lead/ For it is the motlier of every vice. The least desire that l)reathes npon the heart enfeebled by idleness is sufficient to overthrow it ; the least j)assion that ensnares it suffices to lead it astray. In this state the mind soon becomes blunted^ the thoughts discolored, the imagination tarnish- ed, the heart withered, the will slothful, the character enervated ; the senses exalt themselves, beyond measure, and the spiritual man grows less, until life seems to seek refuge wholly in the body, the care of which becomes the only occupation and labor of the day. If the young and intelligent christian would understand wliat could he accomplished by labor, all would be gained, and if in place of seeking his happiness in the joys and pleasures of the passing moments he would turn his eyes and extend his arms unceasingly toward the future, which calls and attracts — for the actions and (1) Multam malitiam docuit otiositas. Eel., 33, 39th. For idleness has tau2:ht much evil. READING. 307 life of new generations ^^I'^pare the events which must come later. — And in the breast of every young man are contained the germs of springing hopes, or dark misfortunes ! There is work that is always easy and brings but little fatigue, and that is reading ; not acci- dental reading, but reading consecutively well selected authors ; one will acquire in tins manner and without trouble, a fund of knowledge from which he deiives nothing but pleasure. Reading is quite sufficient to determine, nourish, elevate, and purify the intellect ; and it is truly surpris- ing how a rich man, with a library at his com- mand, can become depressed in spirit or perverted in character. Idleness is the great source of degeneracy : and reading, notwith- standing it requires but little exertion, still is proof against its deleterious effects. At the same time there is one tiling to be done. A young man, however well established he may be in a solid education, cannot read books indiscriminately selected. The following is what 308 WORK. p. Lacordaire has written to a young man on this subject : "It does not give me much pleasure to know that you read such books as you speak of to me; witliout doubt you are no longer a child, but at any age this poison is always dan- gerous. What work has Yoltaire to interest you after you have read his dramatic chefs d'oeuvre ? are they his naratives, his philosophical dic- tionary, his essays upon the manners of na- tions, and that nameless multitude of pamphlets thrown broadcast at every turn against the new Evangelists and the church ? Twenty pages are sufficient to appreciate their literary merit and their moral and philosophical poverty. From the age of seventeen to eighteen years I read that collection of a debauched mind, and never since have I been tempted to open one volume, not from fear, it is true, that they might do me harm, but from a profound sentiment of their unworthiness. Apart from the necessity of research in a useful point of view, we should only read the accepted works of great authors. We have no time to read others. For a still greater reason we should avoid these writings PERNICIOUS BOOKS. 309 that are sewers to the human intelligence and which, notwithstanding their flowery embellish- ments, are only covers for friglitful corruption. The same reason that an honest man avoids in- tercourse with women of bad manners and dis- honest men, for the very same reason should a christian avoid reading works that have a bad influence upon mankind. Rousseau is better than Yoltaire, he has beautiful and generous sentiments and does not despise his author. Tliis charm is useful sometimes to young people who have no respect for anything higher, but they possess very little interest for a soul that has ex- perienced the love of Jesus Christ." ^ Idleness even among the well instructed peo- ple of the world, is already a deplorable fact, and the source of great evil. Mme. de Maintenon in writing from Yersailles to Mme. de Quelen: "We lead a singular life here. In our surroundings we desire to meet persons whose minds are culti- vated and accomplished, with genius and refined manners, in all of which we are entirely want- ing. Playing, yawning, gathering up and com- (1) L. P. Lacordaire's letters to young people. 20 310 WORK. meriting upon some unfortunate incidents among themselves, hating, envying, now caressing and again tearing each other to pieces." What can we expect when we meet idleness and ignorance combined ? What future is in store for a youth who does not early learn to love labor and look upon it as a sacred duty, as also the great means of devel- oping the beautiful germs of his life ? Bossuet said to the son of Louis XIY : " It is not without reason, and of which you are to make no use, that God has given to you intelli- gence and all tliose noble faculties which produce enlightenment. Do not commence a life in neg- ligence and idleness, which should be occupied and active. If you make such a beginning — having been born with large capacities — ^you must impute to yourself the extinction or use- lessness of those admirable gifts, whose wealth came to you from God. For what purpose then will the weapons with which he has furnished you be made if you make no use of them ? Of what service will a well stored mind be to you if you do not employ or make an applica- PLAY ONLY FOR RECREATION. 311 tion of it ? So miicli greater will be jour loss, for the shameful passions will come to assert their power." It is extremely important then, to habituate children to regular and assiduous work. Louis XIY came to know through his own experience, the misfortune of a neglected educa- tion. And he desired that the time of the Dauphin should be well employed. Bossuet wrote to Pope Innocent XI : " The law that the King imposed upon him was not to let one day pass without study. He considers that there is a marked difference between remaining all day without work, and taking some diversion in order to relax the mind. It is necessary that a child should play and make himself happy ; that excites him ; but it is not necessary to abandon himself to play or to pleasure, so that each day he may not be recalled to more serious things, for study languishes if it is too often interrupt- ed." Why do illustrious names disappear and are forgotten ? Follow up the source and you will very often find an effeminate life, or a slothful 312 WORK. education wanting in laborious efforts, are the principle causes. It is this want of application to labor that has been the cause of so many- unworthy heirs losing the patrimony or honors which they have received from their fathers ; it is this need of labor, which like a crawling worm noiselessly undermined and caused to crumble those fortunes which seemed so well established. On the contrary, what a noble sentiment one still reads over the door of the house that was inhabited by Joan of Arc, in Douremy ; " Yive- labeur !" All hail to labor ! yes, all hail to labor ! because it is the Divine will, and the condition of our nature. But also let us say, all hail to labor ! because it has a charm, a happi- ness ; because it is the introduction to virtue, and its safeguard ; because it has the most useful influence on the character to strengthen the will. All hail to labor ! then because it is the vocation of all men, rich or poor. The Son of God in coming upon this earth, did not wish to exempt himself from labor! Look at that simple cottage where, concealed CHRIST A CARPENTER. 313 with His humble parents, He led, during so many long years, the most obscure life. What did He do, who was not only the Son of Kings, and of patriarchs, but the son of God himself ? " See Him," says Bossuet, '* It is not a learned brush He wields. He loves the painful and humble exercise of the mechanic who labors for the means of existence. It is not the savant's pen that he uses to produce beauti- ful ideas ! 'No, he labors to earn this living ! He accomplishes, praises, and blesses the good- ness of God by his labors ! What an example ! Who, at this spectacle, is not moved and con- founded ? ^ ni The species of work we have in view more particularly in this chapter is study ; be it literary, scientific,or study of the living languages, finally, all that can cultivate the faculties of the soul, and give us useful knowledge. Of all ambitions, that of study is the most (1) St. Paul does not fear to place this condemnation on idleness: "For also, when we were with you, we declared this to you : that if any man will not work, neither let him eat." II Thess., Ill, 10. 314 WORK. constant, and the least apt to become distasteful. Study itself, of all occupations, is the one which procures for those who attach themselves to it, the most attractive pleasure. "Nothing is more proper to dissipate troubles of the heart and to re-establish perfect harmony in the soul, than study ; when fatigued by the storms of the world, you seek refuge in the sanctuary of the muses, you feel that you have entered a tranquil state, whose benign influence soon calms your mind." ' What shall I say of the immense resources reading offers to us, and the numberless a-dvan- tages it is able to afford us? "Reading good books is like holding conversation with the most respectable people of past centuries, who have been the authors of them, and besides a matured conversation in which we discover the best thoughts." ^ It often happens that the work of an entire life is gathered in a few hours by reading a good book. From the moment that a man seeks his pleasure in cultivating his mind, (1) Chateaubriand. (2) Descartes. THE LOVE OF LETTERS. 315 he feels no longer the weight of time, and the pleasure he finds in the bosom of his retreat are in a measure magical. He lives in the century which seems most preferable to him ; he crosses the distance which separates him from from the places he wishes to know ; he interrogates the greatest men of all ages and all countries, and his interviews with them cease or change object, as often as he desires." ^ During the entire life the cultivation of ourselves by study, reading and the love of letters, will be a great means of education which will still contribute to our progress and render us happy, even in the most advanced age. Who can read unmoved the elo- quent discription given by P. Lacordaire of the last years of General Drouot, and of that generous and Christian life, whose " triple love was the incorruptible and immortal habitation of the love of letters, the love of men, and the love of God?" " When I say — love of letters — do I surprise or astonish any of my auditors ? are we so far distant already from the times when letters were (1) Droz. 3^16 WORK. cultivated from pure love of tliem, and were a distinguishing passion with all those imbued with noble natures ? are the number of delicate and serious minds diminishing for whom literary pursuits are quite another thing than the vague reminiscence of youth or a vulgar occupation? I dare not believe it ; I cannot persuade myself, notwithstanding the numerous affecting signs we see — that we are upon the brink of decay, and that the sacred battalion of the elite of intelli- gence are daily thinned with irreparable losses. " General Drouot had learned in the laborious studies of his youth that ancient love for earthly knowledge. A book of excellence was for him a living being with whom he conversed ; an even- ing friend admitted to familiar intercourse. To think of reading a truthful book, take it, lay it down upon the table, bathe himself in its per- fume, breathe its substance, was for him, as for all souls initiated into this order of joys, an innocent and pure delight. Time speeds in this charming entertainment of thought with superior thought. Tears moisten the eyes ; and we thank God who has been so powerful and good as to A SCHOOL OF Si'RRIETY. 317 give to the rapid effusions of the mind the dura- bility of bronze, and a life of truth. Let us ask no more what animated the solitude of the veteran of the Grand Army, and gave a charm to the hours which the lapse of years had brought him to ; while we live in the present he was livino^ in all ao^es ; while we live in the re- gions of interest, he lived in the sphere of the beautiful ; a rare and excellent life, because taste is not alone sufficient: we must have heart and virtue. It is not without reason that authors dignify it with the title of worship; and as de- votion to strict honor is often called the religion of honor, so, also, we may call devotion to society the religion of letters." Labor, of whatever nature, offers to us the most precious advantages ; it captivates the senses, and subjects them to salutary rules ; it is a school of sobriety and temperance ; by it the storms of passion are appeased and overcome ; it dissipates vain delusions and turns away from vague reveries, awakening us to the realities of Hfe. Work has still other excellent results : it cul- 318 WORK. tivates attention by the application it demands ; it exercises in precision, method, and perse- verance. Work surrounds us with worthy protectresses, those desires of the heart which would lead u& to so great a distance ! It comes to the succour of religion to maintain us in order and duty. By the aid of work, then, man is powerfully de- fended against the attacks of passion. Here his weakness finds a refuge, his effeminancy a rem- edy ; from hence he draws that vigor of will which, aloije, renders him capable of great things. So the laboring man in the working class, what- ever be the disdain our prejudices may cast upon their modest occupation, experiences ordinarily a noble pride, an interior contentment, sweet and legitimate, of which the wealthy and aristo- cratic have bnt little conception. Finally, labor is the school of resignation ; it teaches us our dependence ; it corrects and mod- erates our vanity ; it is a long and lasting com- mentary, that great truth which makes us look upon life as a continual perfecting, a great ex- perience, and a salutary expiation. A PLAJSTET, NOT A METEOR. 31^ It is then a stern duty for each one of us to utilize our life by work; so far from the elevation of rank and fortune being exempted from this duty, on the contrary, it seems to me the motive becomes still more powerful. Oh ! you men who shine in the world by your name and dignities, consider that your greatest glory will be, to have rendered your life faithful by useful industry. Do not imitate the shooting stars, that for a moment illuminate the sky, and disappear, extinguished, without leaving one trace of their passage. Above all, bring up the children that Provi- dence has given you, and whose happiness you 80 ardently desire, in the love and practice of labor, and say to them in the language of the Shepherd, when he addressed himself to a young child : My son, obey. " Si tu brillais sans ^tre utile, Au jour de ta mort on dirait; Ce n'est qu'une etoile qui file, Qui file file et disparait." EPILOGUE. We have endeavored to show that education IS a work of development and formation ; that it embraces the whole man, his mind, his heart, his different faculties, manners, and language ; that it should be as religious, as solid, and that it has no limit of duration, except that of life itself. We think we have been understood bj those who have true affection for the young, and above all by parents whose happiness is so closely allied to the proper education of their children. Oh ! if a father and mother knew all that they might do to assure the happiness of those who are indebted to them for their earthly existence, if they could see what a decisive influence they have upon their lives, above all during the early years of man, and principally upon that of his youth, what would they not do to form the young soul under the two-fold connection of science and virtue ! 322 EPILOGUE. Leonide, the father of Origene, loved to ap- proach his son, (while still a child), in his sleep, looking upon him sometime in silence, then opening, with precaution, his linen garment ,and kissing tenderly and with respect, his breast, the amiable sanctuary of God and innocence, embel- lished with all the riches of grace. And then while thinking of his future he would deliver him- self in turn to fear and hope, and in ardent prayer recommend to God the child of his love. How many times like Leonide do a father and mother pray and perhaps weep over the bed of their child ! The future presents itself to them sometimes sad, often joyous, but always mingled with misgivings. Who can tell all the solicitude, all the agony of these devoted and tender hearts, in view of their child's future ? Ah ! then it is to God they should address them- selves ; yes, pray with ardor that the real spirit of education may be diffused and established in their hearts, ; pray to God that he will give to their children masters filled with tact and zeal, to the end that they may act, for education is essentially a work of action. EPILOGUE. 323 Above all should they make it a duty to choose for their children colleges where religion pre- sides, where not only instruction is given, but an education a thousand times more precious, for there they will find serious and assured guaranties for the future. The words of M. de Bonald, in instruction for the people may equally be applied to youth : " Little for pleasure, enough for all things neces- sary, and all for their virtue." Let families seriously meditate upon these words of the Holy Spirit. The young man will follow in later life the ways of his youth, and even in old age will continue to walk therein ! Finally, we would say, that we feel the work we have undertaken still remains imperfect ; at the same time we do not reproach ourselves with brevity in treating^ so important a subject. We have acted thus in order to keep in view the purpose we had in presenting this book to the public, which was to indicate a plan, to lay out a path, and show the spirit of the work. We have endeavored constantly to ignore all 324 EPILOGUE. polemics or useless discussions, all violent attacks or bitter criticism ; nevertheless, if unknown to ourselves, we have appeared to pass over the limits of a most rigorous moderation, we- hasten to declare that such has never been our intention, and besides that, we desire to acknowl- edge, and know how to appreciate all effort made by whomsoever, whose end in view is to instruct the youth, even in houses where religious in- struction may not be the controlling principle. While expressing the most lively desire to see revived the work of education in France and elsewhere, we are very far from restricting that wish to the degree that none but priests of reli- gion are the only men capable of realizing that object. Certainly the sacerdotal order have a grace and mission to educate the young, to cultivate his mind and heart, form his character, and prepare his future. But that is not to say they should have the monopoly of that great work, nor that men well-instructed and profoundly Christian should be excluded from this noble task, when EPILOGLTE. 325 they have taste and aptitude, accompanied with a generous devotion to their duties. On the contrary, may such men be multiplied who desire to aid in the proper training of youth ; let all, be they laymen or clergy, work with ardor to reconstruct that great edifice, ac- cording to one plan and in the same spirit. To this revival of education, society will owe its salvation, its life, and its happiness. ^^- xK \y LIBRARY OF 022 159 958 5