" ^8*3* %**& Henry D. Bacon, St. Louis, Mo. :^ W&".\ CALIFOR U NIVERSITY OF GrIPT OF HENRY DOUGLASS BACON. 1877. Accessions No. __/^_4< 2-_/__. WM & ^m^ wf^^ *iLi./i-;.K ;V'V. . THE PRIVATE JOURNA L OF MADAME CAMPAN, COMPRISING ORIGINAL ANECDOTES OF THE FRENCH COURT; SELECTIONS FROM HER CORRESPONDENCE, THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION, EDITED BY M. MAIGNE PRINTED FOR HENRY COLB U RN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1825. , <;KE-C.\, FHINTIU-, ;,i ;< r ,.-] KH-ST. M..K PREFACE. HAVING resided nearly five years at Mantes, on terms of intimate friendship with Madame Campan, and having been constantly with her during the progress of her malady, I made a promise to several of her pupils, that I would compose an account of her last mo- ments, as I felt that the mournful relation, whilst it encouraged their sorrow, would be also in accordance with my own just and pro- found regret. I have been for a considerable time deterred from this undertaking, by the want of the re- quisite leisure. When I proceeded, at length, to arrange the notes I had collected, I found that they comprised a multitude of anecdotes, that appeared curious, together with some in- teresting disclosures. VI PREFAC A E. Madame Campan had seen and heard an amazing variety of things. Her memory, powerful and accurate, suffered nothing to escape her during so long a period as from the end of the reign of Louis XV. to the time when she retired to Mantes, (1816). From all this, her active and ready mind extracted wonderful resources ; she was capable of dis- coursing for hours without a moment's inter- ruption to the interest of the conversation, in which, amusing recollections were m ingled with the happiest flights of fancy. The addition of a remarkable order and clearness in her ideas, as well as a great deal of natural character in her expressions, rendered her society doubly charm- ing. I can even declare that I should have found it impossible to avoid retaining anything related by Madame Campan. To write down, therefore, at the conclusion of the evening, what I had heard in the course of the day, was a matter of no difficulty whatever ; and I felt happy in preserving, by my pen, the conver- sations of a woman so deservedly celebrated. PREFACE. Vll From these Notes, carefully collected, the anecdotical portion o f the present work is formed. The reader will be aware that no methodical classification could be given to detached thoughts, recollections suggested by the conversation of the moment, and reflec- tions called forth by the events of the day. I have, consequently, given them just as I found them, scattered amongst my papers. Sometimes Madame Campan herself is the speaker ; at other times, her conversations are related by me. In order to mark the distinc- tion in these two cases, inverted commas are employed in the passages containing her own words. The only part of this small work, suscep- tible of a somewhat regular form, is that in which Madame Campan's illness commences. Omitting such matters as would have no in- terest but for members of the faculty, I have noted down, day by day, those instances of discourse, when, even in the midst of her sufferings, she excited our astonishment by Vlll PREFACE. her courage. Her resignation afforded an edifying lesson of piety, and threw a kind of charm over her last moments ; while the sallies of her imagination were intermingled with joyous or with touching reminiscences of the past. The inedited Letters will give proof that she, who 'has succeeded so well in her Me- moirs, and in her Essay on Education, pos- sessed equal ability to have distinguished her- self in the epistolary style. . Those which she wrote to her Son, exhibit, in an especial de- gree, the frankness, the natural felicity and the charm of manner with which she was wont to unbosom herself in her Correspondence. JOURNAL, ABOUT the end of December, 1815, I saw Madame Cam pan for the first time. She then resided in Paris, in the Rue Saint Lazare. The misfortunes with which she and her family were just then visited, rendered her longer residence in the French capital so unpleasant, that she resolved to retire into the country. Though this determination ac- corded with her slender fortune, yet she was unwilling to withdraw herself too far from the centre of public affairs. She wished still to be within the sphere of the political events of B 2 JOURNAL. the day ; and she was also anxious that her family and numerous friends might be enabled to visit her with facility. She, therefore, made choice of the little town of Mantes. Madame Maigne, whom she had educated, who had acted as her secretary at Ecouen, and to whom she was tenderly attached, had resided at Mantes for the space of three years ; a cir- cumstance which materially influenced Ma- dame Campan in giving the preference to that town, and I was sincerely glad of it. About the beginning of April, 1816, she came to fix her abode among us. From that period to the time when she was snatched from us, I enjoyed the happiness of seeing her twice every day, and I always took leave of her with encreased regret ; such was the delight which her charming and varied conversation afforded me. Madame la Mare- chale de Beauvan observed, that no one knew better how to kill time than Madame Campan. On her arrival at Mantes, she was so unwell that she was scarcely able to eat ; for when- JOURNAL. 3 ever she took her meals, she was seized with a tingling and buzzing in her ears. This sensa- tion, which deprived her of all power of think- ing or acting, sometimes lasted for several hours. Madame Campan called it her night- mare. " It is my enemy/' said she, " it will " kill me, for it will be seconded by apo- " plexy." These attacks were renewed four or five times every month ; and when they took place in the night, they left a deep impression on her mind, and her ideas took a melancholy turn. She would then be angry with herself, and try to recover her former cheerfulness, which she said had fled like a bird from its cage. o " Certainly," said she, " the main springs cc of my life are either worn out or rusty ; " there is something extraordinary in my cc present condition. My mental afflictions " must have produced a severe shock on my " physical faculties. I am perplexed when B 2 JOURNAL. " I endeavour to form conjectures respecting ee my health. I leave the matter to you. " In my present condition I scarcely know " myself. My spirits are depressed ; my " mind wanders ; and my resolution flags be- " fore I can attain the object I have in view. '' I cannot account for this. It would require " a world of explanation to enable me to un- " derstand it. The doctors, who have cures " for every thing, even for disorders of which " they are wholly ignorant, make a great dis- " play of skill, and hold out hope by which c they succeed in diverting me a little ; but cc they can do no more, and they are as much " puzzled as I am. Poor human nature! If " we knew our destiny, how much more " wretched we should be than we really are." The state of Madame Campan's health, and the turn of her reflections, naturally led her to relate to us the following anecdote : JOURNAL. " At the time when Mesmer made so much ct noise in Paris with his magnetism, M. Cam- " pan, my husband, was his partizan, like " almost every person who moved in high " life. To be magnetized was then a fashion ; " nay, it was more, it was absolutely a rage. " In the drawing-rooms nothing was talked of " but the brilliant discovery. There was to be " no more dying ; people's heads were turn- " ed, and their imaginations heated in the u highest degree. To accomplish this object " it was necessary to bewilder the understand- " ing ; and Mesmer, with his singular lan- " guage, produced that effect. To put a stop " to the fit of public insanity was the grand " difficulty ; and it was proposed to have the " secret purchased by the court. Mesmer " fixed his claims at a very extravagant rate. " However, he was offered fifty thousand fc crowns. By a singular chance, I was one " day led into the midst of the somnambulists. " Such was the enthusiasm of the numerous " spectators, that in most of them I could ob- JOURNAL. " serve a wild rolling of the eye, and a con- " vulsed movement of the countenance. A " stranger might have fancied himself amidst " the unfortunate patients of Charenton. Sur- " prised and shocked at seeing so many people " almost in a state of delirium,, I withdrew, " full of reflections on the scene which I had "just witnessed. It happened that about this " time my husband was attacked with a pul- " monary disorder, and he desired that he " might be conveyed to Mesmer's house. " Being introduced into the apartment occu- " pied by M. Campan, I asked the worker of " miracles what treatment he proposed to " adopt; he very coolly replied, that to ensure " a speedy and perfect cure, it would be ne- " cessary to lay, in the bed of the invalid, at " his left side, one of three things, namely, a " young woman of brown complexion ; a black " hen ; or an empty bottle. c Sir,' said I, ' if " the choice be a matter of indifference, pray "try the empty bottle.' " M. Campan's side grew worse ; he expe- JOURNAL. / u ricnced a difficulty of breathing, and a pain " in his chest. All the magnetic remedies " that were employed produced no effect. " Perceiving his failure, Mesmer took advan- " tage of the periods of my absence to bleed " and blister the patient. I was not informed " of what had been done until after M. Carn- " pan's recovery. Mesmer was asked for a " certificate, to prove that the patient had " been cured by means of magnetism only, " and he gave it. Here was a trait of en- " thusiasm ! Truth was no longer respected. " When I next presented myself to the " Queen, their Majesties asked what I thought " of Mesmer' s discovery. I informed them " of what had taken place, earnestly express- " ing my indignation at the conduct of the " barefaced quack. It was immediately de- " termined to have nothing more to do with " him.*" * The following anecdotes, or reflections, are, as has already been mentioned, put together without any regard to order. It would, indeed, have been impossible to pre- serve any regular arrangement. 8 JOURNAL, During the consulate, Napoleon, one day after dinner, stood leaning against the draw- ing-room chimney-piece, in a very medita- tive attitude. A lady, one of his relatives, observing him, said : " You look like a con- spirator." " True," he replied, I am now conspiring against the monarch s of Europe. Time will show that a shrug of the shoulders is sufficient to overthrow a bad political system." A lady asked Madame Campan, during her residence at Mantes, to recommend her to a good confessor. Madame Campan men- tioned her own, who, she observed, was a man of intelligence and respectability. " But, madame," enquired the lady, " is he a rea- sonable man ?" " Oh ! very much so," said Madame Campan, " he was one of the " court abbes." " Then he is just the man to suit me," said the lady. JOURNAL. 9 At the time when Napoleon was com- mander-in-chief of the army of Italy, his sisters and younger brother, together with the children of Josephine, were at school at Saint Germain. During the summer they occasionally paid a visit to Paris, accompanied by Madame Voisin. One evening, to finish their holiday, they proposed going to the theatre, and being short of money, they were obliged to mount into the gallery. Madame Campan, while she was at Mantes, frequently dwelt on the extraordinary occur- rences brought about by chance : " I was," said she, " the instructress of a nest of kings " and queens, without ever dreaming of such " a thing ; and, indeed, it was very fortunate " for all parties that we did not know it. " Their education was the same as that of my " other pupils. There was no distinction " observed among them. When they quitted " me, they were all possessed of an excellent 10 JOURNAL. " stock of information, with the exception of " one only, who,, though gifted with a fine " understanding, never evinced a willingness " to learn. Had these young women been " educated as queens, they would have been " flattered instead of instructed. Being igno- " rant of their future destiny, they received 66 the accomplishments of women of distinc- " tion, added to the more solid acquirements " requisite to form good mistresses of fami- " lies, which, indeed, should be the grand " object of female education." The reputation of Madame Campari's es- tablishment spread beyond Europe ; and she obtained pupils even from Calcutta. While she was at the head of the great establishment which she managed with such success, her pupils, who were mostly the daughters of wealthy individuals, annually got up &fete in honour of their governess. They allotted one day in the year to the pleasure of JOURNAL. 1 1 testifying their affection for Madame Campan, whom they all regarded as a second mother,, for the sentiments with which she inspired them, and as an excellent friend to guide them in the path of duty. The young ladies formed a subscription among themselves, for the purpose of present- ing to their governess a feeble mark of their attachment. The sum subscribed amounted to between 1,000 and 1,200 francs. On the day appointed for the purchase of the pre- sent, Madame Campan sent for the curate of Saint Germain, and in the presence of her pupils, addressed him as follows : " Sir, I " am full of gratitude for the kind intentions " of my pupils. The feelings by which they " are animated, are so good and pure, that I " conceive it to be my duty to apply the sum " which they have collected to an object " equally praiseworthy. I therefore request, " Sir, that, (with the consent of my pupils) " you will dispose of the sum they have col- " lected in apprenticing a female orphan of JOURNAL. " this town. Let the giiTs connextions be " poor, but respectable, and I should wish the " surplus of the money to be paid into the " poor box." This act of benevolence was renewed every year, while the establishment of Saint Germain existed. " The mistresses u of the Paris boarding schools," said Ma- dame Campan, " shewed a wish to imitate " me in many points ; but they never attempted " to copy me in this." She frequently made the following observation : " My pupils were " my daughters, so long as they remained " with me, and my friends, when they re- " turned to their homes." " At the period when the priests were again " permitted to say mass during the revolu- " tion, the churches were found to have been " stripped of every thing. I provided some " fine lawn for the church of Saint Germain. " At the time of the confirmation, I directed " those of rny pupils who were most abun- JOURNAL. 13 " dantly supplied with money, to purchase a " sufficient quantity of lawn, cambric, lace, " &c. to make surplices and albes. After the " religious ceremony, they were left for the " use of the church ; and Saint Germain's " was, at that period of my glory, one of the " richest churches in France." In a conversation which Madame Campan had with Napoleon, he said : " It is not the poor, but the rich, who require to be looked after in a state. It is the higher ranks who demand attention. If they were not reined in, they would pull down the sove- reign in no time. I hold them with a firm hand, and keep them at a due distance, for they are full of ambition. They are plea- sant companions, but they have keen appe- tites. The poor must be protected, or they would be devoured. The higher orders have every advantage in society. Their rank and 14 JOURNAL. wealth protect them but too well. The power of the throne is in the lower ranks, and all the dangers that threaten it proceed from the great." (The reader will be pleased to recollect, that the para- graphs distinguished by inverted commas at the com- mencement of each line, are to be understood as contain- ing- the express words of Madame Cain pan.) cc In 1801, M. DttbretuI, a physician, and " Madame 1'Hopital, both inhabitants of Saint " Germain, were arrested and conveyed to the " Temple ; the former for having felt the " pulse of M. Talon's child, and the latter " for having been visited by M. Dubreuil. " Though the last-mentioned individual lived " perfectly retired, his presence nevertheless e( gave umbrage to the government. The " police, artful as it then was, could not find " an excuse for putting him under arrest ; but " as the principal could not be got at, the cc accessaries were taken in his stead. " M. Dubreuil, on being conducted to pri- " son, wrote to me, requesting that I would JOURNAL. 15 u exert my influence in his behalf. He could " not, he said, guess the cause of such a pro- " ceeding. I was much interested for M. " Dubreuil, who was my physician, and my " friend ; and I was the more astonished at " his arrest, as I well knew his quiet inoffen- " sive habits and opinions. I immediately " repaired to the Tuileries. As soon as the " First Consul beheld me,, he said, ' You have " come to intercede for the inhabitants of " Saint Germain. Your Madame de 1'Hopital " is an intriguer.' ' I beg pardon, general, 6C she might once perhaps have been reproach- " ed for a little levity ; but surely that must " be all over at the age of seventy-eight. An " intriguer she cannot be ; a little coquetry " would perhaps be more to her taste, but she " is blind. She receives company every even- " ing, and through the fear of being thought " impolite, she makes her courtsey even to e( the absent. " When Napoleon was informed of the " real circumstances he grew angry, and said, H) JOURNAL. " in the presense of Josephine : ' a blind " women, seventy-eight years old, is always " innocent of political offences. The minister cc has committed an act of cruelty, unworthy c of my government. Had Fouche been plot- " ting with my enemies, he could not have " done better. He must be mad. I cannot " permit such proceedings to take place under " the sanction of my authority. It is my " wish, that every act emanating from my " power should be such as reason will ap- (( prove. A government should be actuated " by exalted views and generous sentiments. " The arbitrary act that has just been com- " mitted, is worthy only of a sovereign's mis- fe tress, in a fit of passion. Matters must not " go on in this way. The head of the State " should never be biased by passion. His- 66 tory will record every thing, and what will " be said of such conduct as this ? But what " has the doctor done ?' ' Why, general, he " attended M. de Talon's child, and he has, tc for many years past, daily visited his fellow JOURNAL. 17 " prisoner in the Temple. ' This business is " almost incredible/ resumed Napoleon. ' A " doctor may surely prescribe for my enemies fc as well as for my friends, without giving (c offence to the ministry. Medical professors " are not, like the holders of government " places,, required to embrace a particular set " of opinions. " Abuses like this degrade and compro- " mise ~my authority. I must have some " conversation with the minister, and the " prisoners shall be liberated.' He rang the " bell with violence, and sent for Fouche, " who, if I may use a vulgar expression, re- " ceived a hearty dressing. However, the " prisoners were not set at liberty until thirty " hours after this conversation ; such was the " tardiness with which the minister went " through the formalities necessary for pro- " curing their release. One of Josephine's " carriages was sent to convey them from the " Temple ; on hearing which, Madame de " THopital exclaimed : are these Madame 18 JOURNAL. " Buonaparte's beautiful white horses ? It " matters very little Madam, whether they he " white or black, said M. Debreuil, peevishly, " so as they draw us out of prison." " Ministers, when offended," said Madame Campan, " are like pretty women ; they do " not easily forgive. Their self-love is very " susceptible. Their places are given to them " only that they may discharge their functions " reasonably and discreetly ; but unfortunately, " they cannot shake off vulgar weaknesses. During the hundred days, Napoleon ob- served, that nobility, inflated as it is with pride and ambition, is not a very manageable commodity. "In 1806," said he, "the Em- peror Alexander thought me too happy in having none. The nobility was a trouble of my own creating. I should have made a noble- JOURNAL. 19 man of every individual paying fifty francs of taxes. This would have levelled a blow at the very roots of the old nobility, and the new no- bles would have been less arrogant. My plans did not answer the ends I had in view. I wish- ed for splendour, and I got nothing but vexa- tion^ through the avarice and ambition of those whom I elevated." " The counts of his making, added Madame " Campan, were worth the counting ;* they " were the work of a master hand." u Napoleon observed, that if he could fairly fight public opinion, he should not fear it. But as it could not be beat down by his artil- lery, he found himself obliged to conciliate it by justice and equity, two powers by which it is always to be won. To pursue any other course, is to endanger wealth and distinction. * Puns are not translateable, and it is therefore proper to give the original, which is : Les comtes de safagon, ne se croyaient pas de contes pour rire. Ilfaut convenir qu'its ftont dn fait d'un grand homme. c 2 20 JOURNAL. It is impossible to imprison public opinion ; restraint serves only to irritate it. " Public " opinion," added Madame Campan, " may be " compared to an eel ; the tighter one holds " it, the sooner it escapes." Napoleon likewise said : " Revolutions are brought about only by injustice. Where would be the motive for them, if governments were guided solely by the laws of equity ? All revolutions, past and to come, must be attri- buted to injustice, and I defy the most artful politician to assign any other cause for them. In the object of the French revolution there was nothing to condemn ; all the mischief consisted in the excesses committed by mis- guided men. It is necessary to bear in mind these two facts, lest we should confound jus- tice on the one hand, and iniquity on the other. What ! must a man trace back his pedigree for fourteen centuries, before he can be deemed worthy of respect ? Before the JOURNAL. revolution, it was necessary to be a nobleman, to hold a commission in the army ; and to be connected with a great family, to obtain a bishopric. The revolution was brought about by the nobility and the high clergy. That's a fact, of which I am thoroughly convinced." Ambition,, and other bad passions, are not to be corrected by experience. The present soon plunges the past into oblivion. Madame Campari often told me, she had heard from Napoleon, that when he founded the convent of the Sisters of la Charite, he was urgently solicited to permit per- petual vows. He, however, refused to do so, on the ground that tastes may change, and that he did not see the necessity of excluding from the world women who might some time or other return to it, and become useful mem- bers of society. " Nunneries," he added, " as- sail the very roots of population. It is impos- sible to calculate the loss which a nation "22 JOURNAL. sustains in having ten thousand women shut up in cloisters. War does but little mischief; for the number of males is at least one twenty- fifth greater than that of females. Women may, if they please, be allowed to make per- petual vows at fifty years of age ; for then their task is fulfilled. " During the directory, the government " had ordered my chapel to be closed ; and " some time after commissioners were sent " to desire that the reading of the Scriptures " should be suppressed in my school. I en- u quired what books were to be substituted " in their stead. After some minutes coiiver- " sation, they observed : Citizeness, you are " arguing after the old fashion ; no reflec- " tions. The nation commands ; we must " have obedience, and no reasoning." On the 19th of March, 1815, a number of papers were left in the King's closet. Na- poleon ordered them to be examined, and among them was found the letter written by Madame Campan to Louis XVIII.., imme- JOURNAL. 23 diatcly after the first restoration. In this letter she enumerated the contents of the portfolio which Louis XVI. had placed under her care. When Napoleon read this letter,, he said : " Let it be sent to the office of Foreign Affairs,, it is an historical document." " Formerly people used to run after parch- " ments ; because, through them they knew " they could obtain any thing. Now they 66 run after money ; for they find that u a more certain means of getting at what " they want. Chimeras are vanishing, and " things are appreciated according to their " real value." In a private conversation with Napoleon respecting the establishment of Ecouen, Ma- dame Campan suggested the necessity of hav- ing firemen. " Your vigilance must suffice to 24 JOURNAL. prevent accidents/' replied Napoleon. " Yes sire, in ordinary cases, certainly ; but can I avert the fire of heaven ?" " You are right," said he, and three firemen were immediately appointed for the establishment. He saw at once the truth of the observation. The hint was sufficient. He had not thought of the circumstance himself; but with him justice prevailed over self-love. Napoleon conversing one day with Madame Campan, at the Tuileries, said : " I acknow- ledge no other titles than those which be- long to personal merit ; they who do not possess such distinctions are truly unfortu- nate. The men by whom I am surrounded have won their titles on the field of honour. They have given sufficient proofs of their merit ; true nobility is in their mind, and no where else. I have espoused no party. Merit determines my choice. I am the pa- tron of talent." JOURNAL. 25 Having visited Malmaison, during the con- sulate^ Madame Cainpan was led to the fol- lowing reflections : " What singular chance " has brought me from the Tuileries to " this abode of pomp and splendour ? But " on looking around me, I perceive a duke " of the old stock, M. de L******, who " seems to be much more out of place than " myself. I came in fulfilment of my duties " as governess to the younger branches of " the family; but surely this duke has no " business here ! I could not help reniark- " ing," added Madame Campan, " that your " people of quality are made for slavery. " Their backs are so flexible that they are " never so happy as when they are bowing." Madame Campan often told me that she had made the fortune of M. d'Aubier, who, at a certain period, proved himself grateful. 26 JOURNAL. She informed me that Madame Murat one day said to her : " I am astonished that you arc not more awed in our presence ; you speak to us with as much familiarity as when we were your pupils !" u The best " thing you can do/' replied Madame Cam- pan, " is to forget your titles, when you are " with me ; for I can never be afraid of " queens whom I have held under the rod." Talma and his brother-in-law dined with Madame Campan, on their return from Rouen, in 1821. She was delighted at the idea of seeing and conversing with so distinguished a man as Talma. Her countenance beamed with joy ; and the pleasure she anticipated seemed in some measure to compensate the privations to which political circumstances subjected her. " I still retain," said she, " a " taste for the truly beautiful. In spite of tc all my misfortunes, my spirits will be re- " vived and refreshed to-day. I require to JOURNAL. 27 " be roused, now and then, from the dejec- " tion into which events have plunged me. " The most heroic courage would be inca- " pable of bearing up against the shocks " which I have undergone. But during din- " ner I shall involuntarily forget all my ca- " lamities, so much do I love talent, and all " that is connected with it. I will banish " from my memory the injustice of man, " and the causes which have produced it. " It is generous to forgive,, and I feel that u I possess that virtue : but yet one cannot " remove the scar, nor avoid feeling an oc- " casional pang. These things are said to de- " peiid on electricity,, set in motion by un- " ascertainable causes. There is no account- " ing for what may break the heart ; and " even if it were possible to do so, the result " would not be the less fatal." During dinner, Madame Campan turned the conversation on the art of elocution ; and Talma made some remarks on the subject, which rivetted the attention of all present. 28 JOURNAL. " Good delivery/' said he, " is applicable to every class of composition. This art, notwithd- staning the powerful effects it produces, is but too much neglected in France. It is indeed quite in its infancy with us. It forms no part of education, and is never thought of in our aca- demies. Yet it presents so many advantages, that I cannot conceive how it should be lost sight of. What effect can even a clever speaker produce, without good delivery. He merely fatigues his hearers. I could name several men of high merit in the legislature, who are intolerable, on account of their delivery ; and similar examples may be found in the pulpit, and at the bar. The sermons and speeches of some of our most celebrated preachers and advocates have occasionally dissatisfied me, owing to a want of just harmony, between their mental and physical powers. When the mind of the speaker was deeply impressed with the truths he was expounding, he would be- tray no external signs of conviction ; no change would be observable in his features, nor would JOURNAL. 29 his voice soften into the accents of persuasion. In Paris, party spirit establishes the fame of public speakers ; but people of judgment form their opinions differently from the loungers of the drawing-room. " The difficulties which the actor has to sur- mount, are greater than those which present themselves to the public orator. The latter has to express only his own ideas ; when he speaks in public, it is always in his own cha- racter. But the actor is obliged to model his mind, and even his body, according to the re- ceived notion of the character and manner of the individual he has to represent. " How else would it be possible to pour tray vehement passions, enormous vices, and ex- alted virtues, or to develope the distinctive traits belonging to different characters. The actor is obliged, as it were, to seize the spirit of the individual he has to represent, in order that he may produce a living personification of one of whom no other trace remains on earth, save a few lines recorded by the pen of history. 30 JOURNAL. This task, I may truly say, demands vast per severance and study. "Any dissonance between the thought, the look, and the gesture^ destroys the illusion and defeats all chance of success. The counte- nance should be a mirror, reflecting distinctly all that passes in the mind; the voice, that powerful medium for the communication of impressions, should be clear, flexible and son- orous ; capable of expressing every feeling of the heart. The movements of the body should follow the same impulse ; and the spectator should recognise, in the harmony of the repre- sentation, the perfect identity of the individual personified". After dinner the company withdrew for a short time, to the drawing-room, and Talma soon set out for Paris. When he had taken his leave, Madame Campan: said "What vast la- " bour it must cost to reach the high degree of " perfection which Talma has attained ! I ad- " mire his talent ; I am enraptured with it. In " him arthasbeen employed only to perfect na- JOURNAL. 31 " turc. What exquisite taste and justness of "perception he evinces. The contemplation ' e of such an actor on the stage, affords a useful " lesson ; it is a spectacle which must inevit- " ably tend to elevate and enlarge the mind. " Nature is sparing of such extraodinary actors; '' the eighteenth century gave birth to Le " Kain ; the nineteenth has hitherto produced " none but Talma. I was informed by Madame Campaftj that a female relative of the Empress Josephine re- ceived a letter from an uncle, residing at a dis- tance from Paris, soliciting a place for one of his relations, with the remark that one was bound in honour and in affection to remember ones family. Madame Campan observed, that Napoleon's heart was too full of family affec- tion. He wished his relations to share the good fortune which he himself possessed ; and 32 JOURNAL. this great ambition for his family gave um- brage to Europe. Had he been an only son, his affairs would probably have taken a dif- ferent turn. In 1814, when Massena was presented at court, or when he went to take leave of the King, on departing for his command at Mar- seilles, the great personages by whom his Ma- jesty was surrounded, cleared but very narrow space for him to pass through. He had no sooner delivered a few words, than he found himself with out the circle. Massena was con- tinually alluding to the clever way in which they cut him off, and separated him from the King. ce When I was on the field of battle, said he, I did not employ so much dexterity in making my prisoners." " Courtiers, observed " Madame Campan, have a paramount inter- " est in rendering the person of the sovereign " inaccessible, so that every favour may fall JOURNAL, 33 upon themselves. They are a class of men who very well understand their own in- " terests. " I have been accused," said Madame Cam- pan, of having bedaubed myself with dirt in my " intercourse with the Buonaparte family ; but " individuals who had greater reason to be u fastidious for example, the Emperors of " Austria and Russia scrupled not to do the " same. I say nothing of nearly the whole of " the old noblese, who thought themselves " highly honoured in being permitted to pay " their court at the Tuileries. In 1810, who " could have foreseen the fall of 1814 ? About the period of Madame Murat's mar- riage, and while she was yet at Saint-Germain? Napoleon observed to Madame Campan : " I do not like those love matches, between young people whose brains are excited by the flames of the imagination. I had other views D 34 JOURNAL. for my sister. Who knows what high alli- ance I might have procured for her? she is thoughtless, and does not form a just notion of my situation. The time will come, when, per haps, sovereigns might dispute for her hand. She is about to marry a brave man ; but in my situation that is not enough. Fate should be left to fulfil her decrees." A gentleman informed Madame Campan, that one of her pupils, who, when at school, was remarkable for beauty and intelligence, had not turned out well. Madame Carnpan was filled with amazement. fe I assure you, added her informant, you would be shocked ; you could not endure to look at her." " Good " Heavens, sir, what has happened ?" " Why, madam, she has grown frightfully ugly!" " Thank God it is nothing worse ! how could " you alarm me so ?" When relating this anecdote, she added, in JOURNAL. 35 a lively tone : " I never announced, in my " prospectus, that my plan of education would " defend beauty against the ravages of age." During a journey which Madame Campan made to Brie, in 1818, her health improved astonishingly, and she wrote to me as follows : " I now take my meals like any one else- " Judge how my spirits are revived by this " fortunate change ! How powerfully does " privation excite desire ! How heartily I " relished the first piece of bread I was able to '< eat ; for I had not tasted any for three years " before. My mind feels the influence of my " improved bodily health. I seem to have "entered upon a new existence; I breathe " freely ; in short, you would scarcely know " me. This troublesome organ, the stomach, certainly acts an important part in our :i system. Since mine has been roused from " its torpor, every thing goes on well. I have < e recovered the functions of existence just in D 2 Cf 36 JOURNAL. " time. I felt the edifice tottering ; but it lias " received a prop, and hope will fortify it com- " pletely. I now forgive you for the long < c journeys which you prescribe to your pa- " tients. Send them all to the mineral springs. " A jaunt of thirty leagues, and the influence " of new circumstances, physical and moral, " have been my remedies. The experiment " has proved successful." On her return home, after an absence of two months, Madame Campan was overjoyed at having recovered her health, the treasure which she most dearly prized. (f Men run " after fortune," she often said ; " but they " should rather run after health, or the means " of preserving it. Without health all be- " comes indifferent ; even the affections of the " heart. The passions die of themselves ; am- " bition vanishes ; and man left to himself " alone, sinks concentrated in his own weak- " ness. He can do nothing for others ; nor JOURNAL. 37 " others do any thing for him. It is then " that he may form a notion of his real con- " dition. Every thing escapes him, even the " means of self-preservation^ and all tends to u sink into annihilation. The apprehensive " mind looks forward only to uncertainty ; the " illusions of imagiriation disappear; and reason " stops short before the impenetrable barrier " of futurity. The ideas dictated by men, and cf supported by brilliant fancy, eloquent lan- " guage, and powerful reasoning, lose their u value. The mind is like a frail bark on the " troubled sea, which is tossed about at the " mercy of the winds, and may be drifted one " knows not whither. But we must submit ; it " is the law of necessity, and even philosophy " knows no other." Madame Cam pan resumed her natural gaity, and she enjoyed the delight of pouring forth the feelings of her heart on the bosom of friendship. To communicate to those about 38 JOURNAL. her,, all that passed in her mind, was to her more than a pleasure ; it was an absolute necessity. " I should be wretched/' said " she, " if I were obliged to be reserved. " My mind is essentially communicative. " When I am compelled to lock up my desk, " I am always annoyed, though I try not to " appear so." After dinner, Madame Campan used to as- semble around her a little party of friends. This she found an agreeable recreation ; for time occasionally seemed to linger with her. " A country life is not all pleasure," said she, " one can breathe freely here, to be sure; one >c can walk in the garden, or in fine weather " repair to Magnanville, or the Cordeliers ;* >c and on returning home, one's appetite is " good, and one's dinner ready. All this is " very agreeable. The physical health is ad- * Promenades in the neighbourhood of Mantes, JOURNAL. 39 " mirable ; but the mind is not so well pro- " vided for. There is a want of mental ali- " ment. One cannot be always reading and " writing ; something else is requisite : the (e news of the day, and the visits of people who " mix in the world. The want of these two " things occasions the great vacuity. By way " of compensation, or for the gratification of " eager and boundless curiosity, some people ' ( collect the news of the neighbourhood. This " is bad taste ; and in the end, the heart gets " corrupted in the school of gossiping." Madame Campan continued to enjoy toler- ably good health, from 1 8 1 8 to 1821. During that interval she completed the arrangement of her affairs, and lived in competency on her remaining income, an annuity of about 1 2,000 francs. But just as she was beginning to enjoy her retirement, a new misfortune assailed her. She lost her son Henry. In the beginning of January, 1821, he visited Paris, for the pur- 40 JOURNAL. pose of seeing his family, and making him- self acquainted with the novelties in science and the arts, for which he had a great taste. A few days after his arrival in Paris, M. Campan was seized with a catarrh. The disorder at first appeared under the most favorable symtoms ; but in the space of four or five days, so serious a change took place that no hopes were entertained for his recovery. He wrote to his mother only two days before his death. When Madame Campan was made acquainted with the loss she had sustained, the shock was the more severe, because she had scarcely been aware of her son's illness. His unexpected death, joined to the distress she felt at not having been with him in his last moments, produced such an effect on her that her health thenceforward visibly de- clined. Her life became an uninterrupted in- terval of pain ; her appetite was irregular, and her sleep was disturbed by dreams of her lost son. She saw him every where. If left to herself but for a moment, his beloved image JOURNAL. 41 was constantly before her. " True sorrow," said she, " finds consolation in beholding the " portraits of those who have been dear to us. 66 I doubt the sincerity of grief, when the re- " semblance of a beloved object is banished " from the sight. In this world, mourning " is a duty: time does not fly so swiftly as 4< to exempt us from the fulfilment of it." Soon after this misfortune, Madame Campan wrote to one of her friends, as follows : " You knew the amiable son whose loss I " deplore. Alas ! our habits seem to be the " result of a kind of mechanism, acting in. " voluntarily. Henry was often absent from " me ; and sometimes I fancy he is still in " Paris. But the illusion vanishes, and I " exclaim : No, he is not absent, but lost ! " lost for ever ! Then, again, I think I shall " soon rejoin him. Such a remarkable change was observable in Madame Campan's health, about three 42 JOURNAL. months after the death of her son, that I found the only means of rousing her from her depression of spirits, and her indifference to all that was passing around her, was to advise her to travel. To this she consented, but, at the same time, said : " Amusement " and change of scene cannot revive a sys- " tern which has received a mortal wound. " My heart beats only to keep up my affliction, " and to fill me with a distaste of life. In my " son I have lost every thing. I seem to " breathe only from the effect of habit. No- " thing in this world can afford me pleasure. " The charm of existence has fled from me " like a dream. Every object around me is " enveloped in a gloomy veil. Courage may " endure any thing, when the mind only is " afflicted ; but it cannot bear up against the " sufferings of the heart May heaven pre- < c serve you, my friend, from the misery which 66 oppresses me. You see merely the surface " of my sorrow. God alone knows its full " depth. To express what I feel is impossible. JOURNAL. 43 " There is, niter all, something pleasurable in " my sensations. I cherish my grief, and " the idea of death has even a certain charm. " To rejoin my son is my only wish." One morning, about a fortnight before her departure, Madame Campan observed, that an indurated gland which she had in her left breast had become harder and more painful than usual. The idea of a cancer imme- diately came accross her mind, and she began to be continually harassed with the picture she had formed of that terrible disease. The apprehension of no other disorder would have produced any impression on her. All the usual remedies were instantly applied ; but they had not the effect of diminishing the symptoms of the disorder, which, however, made no further progress. It had been pre- viously arranged, that Madame Campan should travel into Switzerland, and it was now de- termined that she should try the mineral baths of Baden. At the period fixed for her de- parture, the weather proved unfavourable, 44 JOURNAL. and she went to pass three weeks at Draveil, with Madame Lambert, her niece. The pleasure which, in spite of her de- jection of mind, Madame Campan enjoyed in course of this journey, and during her visit to one oi her illustrious pupils ; the change of air and different mode of living, all tended to encourage a hope that, by a rigid ob- servance of the prescribed treatment, the disorder might be checked in its progress, if it could not be abated. But all our hopes were disappointed. On her return to France, in October, she again visited Draveil, and passed six weeks there. Her medical attendant advised her to submit to an operation, which he assured her would effect her cure. Ma- dame Campan cheerfully embraced the sug- gestion. A consultation was held, and the doctors being unanimous in their opinions, the operation was determined on. Madame Campan had derived considerable benefit from her journey. She had recovered some portion of her cheerfulness. She wished JOURNAL. 45 to live for the sake of her family, of which she was now the natural head, and she had justly acquired a right to be so. She looked to her relations, and to Madame Voisin, for motives to induce her to cherish existence. This favourable change in Madame Campan' s health took place while she was visiting the Duchess de Saint-Leu, at Constance. Madame Campan looked forward with impatience to the moment, when, to use her own expression, the troublesome stone was to be removed from her garden. It was determined that the operation should take place at the beginning of December. On the day preceding that fixed for its perform- ance, Madame Campan said to me : " I re- " gret that I have not completely revised my " Memoirs. It is my particular wish that " they should be printed immediately after " my death. They contain a justification " of the conduct I have pursued, and which " has been so greatly calumniated. I shall " prove, by undeniable facts, how unjustly I 46 JOURNAL. " have been treated. I can also prove that,, " while worthless men consulted only the dic- " tates of their corrupt hearts, I devoted my- " self wholly to the interests of the august vic- " tirns of 1793. They abandoned their sove- " reign to a lawless and irritated party; while " they ought all to have sacrificed themselves " to save their king. They can never wash " away the stain that is upon them. " I have related, in my Memoirs, only " that which I myself observed. I never " trusted to the versions of news-mongers. " The only witnesses I consulted were my " own eyes ; and they were too well expe- " rienced to afford me any reason to doubt " their fidelity. My narrative is simple and " unvarnished. The Memoirs will develope " the plain truth. They are intended to " furnish materials for history, and the slight- " est shade may deceive the historian. I " have fulfilled my task with all possible " candour. If I had written about the go- " vernment, I should have expressed my JOURNAL. 47 " opinions with sincerity. I have considered u myself perfectly neutral in relating the facts " recorded in my Memoirs. I should have " wished once more to revise my treatise on " the Education of Young Females ; for that " work I consider to be the source of any " little reputation which I may hereafter " enjoy. I think it may be a useful assistant to " mothers. In the course of my long expe- " rience, I have collected a certain stock of " information, which I will endeavour to ren- " der profitable, if God should be pleased to " grant me time. " But a truce with reflections, my dear doc- " tor; the hour of battle has arrived. I feel " that I am in possession of all my strength of " mind. I shall see what fortitude will enable " me to bear ; and whether the pain I am about " to suffer will be greater than my resolution. " My courage enabled me to remain at the " Tuileries on the 10th of August. Neither " the cries of distress, nor the sight of blood 48 JOURNAL. " terrified me. I preserved all my courage, " and I could even have given useful advice " in the moment of danger. Come, no more 66 delay ; all is ready. I am tired of speak - " ing of this affair, as if it were an event of " history." FEBRUARv4th. During the operation, Ma- dame Campan's countenance became pale; hut its expression never altered ; her eye uni- formly retained its calmness. M. Heymes, a colonel of artillery, one of the heroes of the old army, assisted the surgeon, M. Voisin. The colonel confessed, that during the most sanguinary battles, in which he had been en- gaged, he had never experienced any thing equal to what he felt during the performance of the operation. Madame Campan evinced some signs of pain ; but she uttered no com- plaint. The placidity of her mind never forsook her on this trying occasion. JOURNAL. 49 10th. I need say nothing of Madame Cam- pan's health, from the time the operation was performed, until the 4th of March, the period when the catarrhal affection appeared. I shall merely relate the conversations which I had with her every morning during my visits, which were frequently prolonged for a consi- derable time. On the sixth day after the operation, when she was able to talk without pain, she said to me : " I still, my dear doc- " tor, possess a little remnant of existence ; " and I feel happy in being able to live with- " out bearing about me a token of remem- " brance, that I am about to quit the busy " world. The consciousness of approaching " dissolution renders one melancholy, and u the remaining span of life becomes an un- " interrupted interval of pain. With a little " exertion of reason, our minds are soon " made up. Since Nature has ordained that " we shall resign the place we occupy, to " make room for another, it is proper that E Ull JOURNAL. " she should dispose of our lives, indepen- " dently of our agency. We do not give " ourselves life ; it is merely granted to us for " our use, and every imprudence by which we " endanger it., is more or less criminal. The " sacrifice of pain is soon over. It is an " expenditure of feeling which we must re- " solve to perform ; it is indeed a duty. This tc has always been my view of the case. My " conduct has never been influenced by any " other rule." " After the 18th fructidor, I found that my " only means of subsistence was to turn my u talent to some account. I opened a school u at Saint-Germain. The establishment suc- " ceeded beyond my hopes. I had under- " taken every thing on an extended scale, " and engaged the best masters from Paris. " Such was my success, that I may truly say, " this was the happiest period of my life. JOURNAL. 5 1 " During this prosperous interval, about " the year 1801., when I was superintending " the education of the sisters and daughter- " in-law of the First Consul, a person called " on me, and requested that I would grant " him a private interview, as he had some " secret business to communicate. I an- " swered, that I would very readily hear " what he had to say, if he had come to me on " family business ; or, I added, if he had come " to solicit my protection, I would do all I " could for him, as I knew no greater happi- " ness than that of rendering service to " persons who were deserving of it. He " then said, that he had business of the " highest importance to communicate to me. " In that case, sir, said I, keep your secret " to yourself, for if it should relate to poli- " tics, I assure you, I shall make the govcrn- " ment acquainted with it. My visitor then " took his leave, and I never saw him again. " I have always concluded that he was an " envoy from abroad, and that, as I had de- E 2 52 JOURNAL. " clined receiving the communications he had "to make to me, those who sent him never " forgave the offence. " The important services which I rendered " to the King and Queen, did not apparently " obliterate the recollection of my threat to " the stranger. I mention this, only as a " probability. To this circumstance I like- " wise attribute all the vexations I have " experienced of late years, from the emi- " grants. The inveterate spirit that has been " manifested, must have had some cause " of excitement. But I have forgotten all " these things. They recur to my mind only " like historical incidents. " I have always made it a rule, to avoid " taking any part in government affairs, or " court secrets; for, by meddling in such mat- " ters, one receives nothing but contempt, if " not something worse. A woman who is de- " sirous of maintaining respectability, should " direct her attention to her own private sur- " round sovereigns, when they obtain from " them marks of favour and private confi- " dence ! I am not the only one who has " paid dearly for this honour. Certain tra- " vellers, I know of, could tell the same " tale." The Empress Josephine, at the time of her divorce, requested permission to proceed to the United States. Napoleon informed her that he could not answer for her safety in 106 JOURNAL. crossing the sea. " Then your power finds an obstacle/' said she, " Would to heaven there were seas to be crossed for the fulfilment of all your wishes ! your glory would then beam for ever." M. Seguier, grand vicar of Mantes, asked Madame Campan for some information re- specting the death of the Marquess de Favras. " The public papers of the time/' said she,, " heaped the most odious calumny on Mon- " sieur, now Louis XVIII. Unfortunate cir- " cumstances determined the death of the " Marquess." " Do you know," said Madame Campan, " why political delinquents shew so little in- " dulgence in their disposition ? It is because " they wish to hide themselves behind their " own declarations." JOURNAL. 107 Napoleon remarked to Madame Campan, during the Consulate, " that he who possesses the key of the French treasury may be ac- quainted with all that is going on in the cabinets of Europe, which, he added, is by no means a matter of indifference, at any time. Napoleon used to say, " that indulgence should descend from the throne: but that it does not so readily ascend to it, since sub- jects only exercise that virtue in proportion as they receive protection." " How would a monarch govern, if his sub- " jects were all men of rank ? Would it be " necessary to make laws expressly for them, " of a nature different from those to which " other men are subjected ? Previously to the " adoption of any measure, the minister would " take into consideration the overweening pre- 108 JOURNAL. " tention, pride and vanity of men, with old " family parchments ; and after fairly weighing " all their claims,, he would plainly see their f( unfounded presumption, in wishing to play " distinguished parts, and usurp privileges " which could not belong to them. He " would be compelled to regard them as hum- " ble individuals, and to treat them accordingly. " How would it be possible to frame a law to " satisfy pride, vanity and pretention ! " Men know how to appreciate themselves. " They find that strength exists in masses. " The sabring and cannonading of the revo- " lutionary wars, have taught them that ar- " mies may be commanded without a Turenne " or a CondeY' i From the time when Madame Campan un- derwent the operation, which was performed on the 5th of February, her health continued in a very satisfactory state until the 3rd of March. During that interval no change for JOURNAL. 109 the worse took place. On the 4th of March, however, she was seized with a slight degree of fever, and all the symptoms of a catarrhal affection began to appear. The wound oc- casioned by the operation was by this time nearly healed. On the day on which this change first became observable, there was an expression of apprehension in Madame Cam- pan's countenance, and she said to me: " Well ! it is a catarrh. Lose no time, if you te wish to save me. I have strength to go " through any thing, and my confidence is " boundless. I have always dreaded this dis- " order. Pray do nothing by halves. In si- " tuations of difficulty, cool determination is " necessary. One must intrench one's under- " standing in a strong hold ; mine will not be " easily besieged. I wish to have about rne " none but my good friends of Mantes, and " my valued servants ; and if I should not " survive, I shall have the satisfaction of (( breathing my last in the arms of friend- 110 JOURNAL. ee ship." She had formed a correct opinion of the nature of her disorder. Feeling herself somewhat better in the evening, she said to me : " Notwithstanding " this improvement., I do not feel quite at ease. " Though I do not experience any serious " alarm, yet if I could change my situation I " would ; but that is out of my power, and I " am resigned, for I never suffered myself to " murmur at fate. I calmly await what it " may please God to do for me. The invalid " who torments himself, creates a moral disease, " which serves but to increase that with " which he is already assailed. The doctor " has then two enemies to contend with. If " the disorder which the patient brings upon " himself could cure the physical malady, it :i would be well to employ it as a remedy ; " but, on the contrary, it can only do mis- -' chief, and therefore I am resolved to avoid it." JOURNAL. Ill On the 6th the symptoms increased. Madame Carnpan's pulse became feeble and irregular ; but her mental energy continued unabated. After suffering severely for a few hours, she thus addressed me : " I have sur- " vived a terrible crisis. Had it continued " much longer, I think I could not have held " out. I felt my strength failing me. I ec tranquilly calculated the progression. It " was a terrible trial, and one which almost " required the patience of a saint. I felt that " my life was hanging on a delicate thread, " ready to break ; as when oppressed with " sleepiness we feel that we shall soon fall 66 into a profound slumber. But in these two " cases, the sensations are, as you may suppose, " different." In the evening, finding herself a little bet- ter, Madame Campan asked me whether there were any news in the journals. On my an- swering that they contained nothing, she 112 JOURNAL. said : " They are in the wrong. They should " do their duty, which is to make known the " wants of the people, and to discuss the best " means of satisfying them. The aristocracy " pretends not to understand these wants, " because they wish to encroach upon every " right. They cloak their injustice under the " words, firmness and devotedness. But 66 people cannot live upon words ; they re- " quire things. The politician who defends " the cause of the people, acquires a claim on " the gratitude of mankind. This is truly " noble devotedness, particularly at the pre- " sent moment, when power is waging a war " in which generosity has no part." Madame Campan remarked, that the bud- gets of States formed the spiritual part of them. Napoleon used to observe, " That if he had JOURNAL. 113 had two such field-marshals as Suchet, in Spain, he would have not only conquered, but kept the Peninsula. Suchet' s sound judgment, his governing, yet conciliating, spirit, his mili- tary tact, and his bravery, had procured him as- tonishing success. It is to be regretted," added he, (f that a sovereign cannot improvise men of his stamp/' " As for mutual instruction, I fear it will " be gradually suppressed. This will shew " that the ministry wish to preserve igno- " ranee, to enable them to govern the more " easily, according to the plan they have " adopted. If information were to be gene- " rally diffused among the people, govern- " ment would have to encounter many ob- " stacks in the execution of its measures. " When attempts are made to enslave the " strongest party, all sorts of artifices are " resorted to. A government loves its people " for the uses that may be made of them, i 114 JOURNAL. u and not for their own sakes. The friend- " ship of men in power is selfish ; there is " nothing generous or noble in the senti- " ment." On the 7th the symptoms of Madame Campan's disorder had rapidly increased. The remedies which were applied, afforded only temporary relief. The patient was occa- sionally cheerful, and addressed all about her in the most affectionate manner. She seemed happy in having us near her, and frequently pressed our hands within her own. To Madame Voisin she said : " My dear friend, I shall " not die yet awhile. Do not grieve thus. " Two hearts like ours are not so easily sepa- " rated. We shall drive away the grim king (t of terrors ; shall we not, doctor ?" I eagerly replied in the affirmative ; adding, that I hoped soon to see her well again, and that her fortitude was a sure guarrantee for her recovery. " Yes, Voisin," she resumed, " we JOURNAL. 115 " have suffered many calamities together " But even misfortunes have their end, and " a few hours of happiness will make us " forget them. I love you as a sister. We " were certainly formed for each other. Our < ( hearts are knit together, and death alone " can part us." She pronounced these words without emotion, and in a tone of the most cordial affection. On the 3th, Madame Campan said to me : " I must try to make up for the bad night I " passed. How long it appeared. Pain mul- " tiplies time amazingly. Physical indisposi- " tion would lead us into curious mistakes, if " we had no clocks. Hours are as long as years. " The same effect is produced when the ima- " gination and the passions are powerfully ex- " cited. In the first case the patient must look " at his watch ; and in the second, he must u consult his understanding. If that be not " sound, it will yield to the impulse communi- i 2 116 JOURNAL. " cated to it. This is the cause of the errors " into which even sensible men frequently fall. " Such is the weakness of human nature, that " we may err even with the best intentions : " for we are not always able to contend against " excited imagination and powerful passion. " It is these things that determine our fate." It afforded me the highest pleasure to listen to Madame Campan ; yet I was fearful lest she might fatigue herself, and therefore begged that she would refrain from conver_ sation. " That would do me more harm than " good," she replied, " I will talk slowly and " gently." " The Bull's-eye party never forgave me " for having enjoyed the confidence of the ( ( King and Queen, and for having rendered " others happy when it was in my power so " to do. The ladies of that swarm of flatterers JOURNAL. 117 " were often unjust, and whenever the Queen " did me the honour to consult me, I told " her the plain truth, and assured her that a " government cannot be respected when it is " not guided by justice. I have seen men, " who, without having rendered any service " to their country, or given proofs of talent " in any way, have had the effrontery, on the " strength of their ancient families, to solicit " places, which ought to have been given to " men who had justly earned rewards by " twenty or thirty years of tried service. The " Queen immediately threw aside these unrea- " sonable petitions, and forgot the recommenda- " tions by which they were backed. Her me_ " mory will be ever dear to me. I never in " my life saw so amiable and fascinating a " woman. She had the mind of an angel, and " the serenity of her temper was never ruffled. " The calumny which was heaped upon her 66 sometimes rendered her sad ; but never " called forth any feeling of vindictiveness." 118 JOURNAL. " If I had been a princess/' said Madame Campan, " I should not have had all the " Bull's-eye party against me ; but it was " supposed that the situation I held, and my " mere letters of nobility, did not entitle me " to enjoy the honour of the Queen's favour " and friendship. This excited their envy ; " but they paid dearly for their folly. There " was also another ground for their jealousy. " They knew I was better than they were " themselves. On the 8th, Madame Campan passed a quiet night ; but there was no improvement in her symptoms. " I had good eyes," said she, " when I was " at court, and I made good use of them. " I never trusted to my ears. I was always " on my guard against the impressions which " they might lead me to form. At Versailles, u tale-telling and slander frequently assumed " the place of truth. I therefore suspended JOURNAL. 119 " my judgment until my eyes were convinced ; u and this caution rendered me very confident " of what I really knew. My enemies have " abused me sadly ; but when I am gon e " I hope my memory will be more respected "than I have been. You cannot form an " idea of the dangers with which one is as- " sailed in a court : the ground is so slippery " that it requires the greatest care to keep a " firm footing." I mentioned to Madame Campan what I had heard respecting M. Bourdier, physician to the Empress Maria Louisa : namely, that he had sacrificed his peace when he accepted the disagreeable office. These were his own words : " My dear doctor," said she, " ambi- " tion is the first principle of the men who " surround sovereigns ; pride and meanness " come next in order. The conduct of " courtiers is influenced solely by these three " causes. If they stoop down, it is to grasp 120 JOURNAL. " at something ; and if they stand upright, it " is to shew their importance. They learn " to act their parts, and they who evince most " talent in the performance are most suc- " cessftil. They have to pocket many affronts, " it is true ; but they are not over nice. At " court, where favours are so lavishly distri- " buted, merit is either advanced or kept back, " according as it suits the interests of men in " power. Those who possess influence, de- " liver their opinion, their partizans repeat it ; " and in the course of a few days, the draw- " ing-rooms pronounce the final judgment. " People who think differently are afraid of " compromising themselves ; and affecting a degree of ardour which they do not feel, " they make more noise than the rest. Hap- " piness never dwelt in the palaces of kings. " Courtiers acknowledge this, and here at least " they may be believed." On the night of the 9th, Madame Campan JOURNAL. 121 was not quite so well as she had been the night before. In the morning the symptoms were the same as on the preceding day. Blisters had been applied ; and when they were removed the places appeared discoloured. After I had conversed with Madame Campan for a few minutes on some important subjects^ she asked who had been sending to inquire after her. I told her the names of the per- sons who seemed to feel most interest re- specting her. " Their kindness/' said she, " touches my heart. Under happier circum- " stances I should have done much good at -' Mantes ; but I am here upon half pay. I " must exercise a little philosophy, to enable " me to forget the past/ and live content with " the present : yet I confess, I could not " endure any very severe privation, my philo- " sophy would murmur, or would, perhaps, " forsake me altogether. But if new mis- " fortunes were to assail me, I should begin " again to study how to bear them, and pro- " bably I should succeed well enough. With 122 JOURNAL. " a little courage one may turn misery out " of doors, when it comes to pay us a visit." 1 1th. Madame Campan passed a bad night. We looked with impatience for the arrival of M. Voisin, who had returned home a few evenings previously. In spite of the confi- dence which Madame Campan reposed in him, she did not seem at all affected by his delayed visit. Her understanding controled her feelings, and her presence of mind never failed her. I was the more distressed by M. Voisin' s delay, because I observed that the patient was getting gradually lower, that every remedy had failed, and that nature was exhausted. In spite of the patient's hopeless condition, for hopeless we saw it was, on the second day of her illness, I felt that the presence of M. Voisin would be of service to us. He was delayed for several hours, having been obliged to attend the Duke d'Angouleme. I JOURNAL, 123 did not wish to have the responsibility entirely on myself. At length, however, M. Voisin arrived, and after examining the patient, he advised the continuance of the remedies which had been already employed. In course of the day, Madame Gampan, addressing herself to me, said : " You are doing all " you can for me, and I thank you. How " soothing are your attentions, and how " deeply does your friendship move my " heart." Then pressing my hand, she added : " I cannot express the feelings with " which your kindness inspires me ! If I must " die, my mind is fully made up. It is use- " less to contend with an adversary stronger " than one's self. My patience and resigna- " tion will not fail me. Those who have " known how to live should know how to " die. In thus bidding adieu to my family " and my friends, I feel a consolation in re " fleeting that I do not leave my son behind " me. Had he survived me, he would have " been wretched ; and that thought would 124 JOURNAL. " have distressed me at the present trying " moment. Farewell, my good friend ! I " throw myself into the arms of Providence. " That is the invisible resting point, and " the only one. It is a great consolation, " and the imagination, though startled, clings " to it with pleasure. How gratifying it is " to be able, on the approach of death, to " abandon one's self cheerfully to an order "of things, of the existence of which there " has never yet been any mathematical de- " monstration. This rallying point is indeed, " a source of comfort." (Madame Campan had fulfilled all her re- ligious duties before she underwent the opera- tion.) " I love the simplicity of my religion," said she ; " I revere the faith in which I have " been educated ; but I hate all that borders " on fanaticism. I quit the scene of life after " having witnessed many vicissitudes ; and " every thing seems to forbode that France " will yet be exposed to violent convulsions. JOURNAL. 125 " Tranquility will not be established until " sentiments of justice predominate, which " they must ultimately do, for truth has as- " serted her rights. The light so much de- " tested, has penetrated every where. It is " criminal to think on politics without having " an eye to that public happiness on which pri- " vate happiness depends. The governments " of Europe are at present guided by ideas " and prejudices which are below the level of " the age ; the carriage is driven along old traces " and it will not go smoothly until it reaches " level ground. Power should be centred " only in the law ; it is misplaced any where " else : it has no other resting place which " sound reason can acknowledge. Those who " think otherwise are blinded by the dust of " old parchments. They seem to forget that " ruling by ordinances is out of date. People " want something more substantial ; they will " no longer submit to the caprice of a mi- " nister, without complaining. The time for " that is gone by." 126 JOURNAL. 12th. Madame Campan passed a bad night, and was very ill during the day. " Well, doctor," she said, addressing herself to me, " I am going very fast, political " events sometimes urge us on as rapidly. I " fear your skill will he unavailing ; my cure " would indeed do you credit. I suffer but " little ; yet death is advancing at a sure pace." I sought to encourage the patient, by assuring her there still was hope. " Yes," she replied, " hope is very consolatory ; but when one " sees a little way before one, something else " is requisite. I feel no reason to cherish " hope. My situation is sufficiently evident, 66 from the affectionate attention and interest " manifested by my friends. Poor Voisin " takes no rest ; if this should continue much ' longer, she will be ill too. I am happy to " think that my infirmities are not of a nature " to offend those about one. I am deeply af- " fected by the proofs of kindness I receive. " But let us talk of something else." JOURNAL. 127 Napoleon remarked, that in every branch of the administration, he had met with men, who, with the art of speaking well, possessed also, in an eminent degree, that of doing ill ; whenever he discovered such, he knew how to reduce them to their proper place. Mr. Monroe, who was the United States Ambassador in France, during the revolution, and after the fall of Robespierre, said to Madame Campan at Saint-Germain : " For- tune is rolling down the kennel, and any one may stop and pick it up." During a walk in the wood of Saint-Germain, he was talking in defence of his country, which he held to be finer than ours : his daughter, who was but a child, a pupil in the establishment of Saint- Germain, interrupted him by saying : " Yes, papa, but there are no streets in America like those," pointing, at the same time, towards the main road. " Very true/' said Mr Monroe, " our nation may be compared to a newly- 128 JOURNAL. formed household ; we are in want of many things, hut we possess the finest thing of all liberty." " Nations judge of the designs of govern- " ments, by inspiration or by instinct. In cf vain are assurances given that such and " such measures, apparently oppressive, were " dictated by pure intentions. These asser- " tions receive just as much credit as a " conquered country grants to the proclama- " tions of the enemy. Let governments re- " spect the rights of their subjects, and they " will experience less opposition." 13th. The symptoms of Madame Campan's disorder continued increasing ; but her mind retained all its energy > The patient passed a tolerably easy day. Her cough was not violent ; but her strength JOURNAL. 129 gradually wasted, and her pulse continued to intermit more and more decidedly. 14th. -Madame Gampan grew gradually weaker, and her countenance assumed a more unfavourable expression. She observed the uneasiness manifested by Madame Voisin and Madame Maigne, and she said to them : " Come, no more grieving ; think no more " about me ; you have done enough." In the course of the day she tried to sing, in order to rally their spirits. About noon she addressed me as follows : " One ought to forget one's " own distresses, and think on those which " affect others. I am now a stranger to pub- " lie events, having lately had so little oppor- " tunity of attending to them. " But, friend," she added, lowering her voice, " I must try to " forget myself, and to withdraw my thoughts " from every thing around me. I am assailed " by too many painful ideas and fancies. Let " us talk on politics, doctor, to avoid talking K 130 JOURNAL. u about ourselves. Is there any disposition " to improve the condition of mankind ?" I replied that " I thought there was." " I am " rather incredulous on that point/' said she. " To enter properly into the spirit of a people, " it is necessary that their wants should be " understood ; and hitherto I see no reason to " believe that the subject has claimed any " attention. But I hope I am deceived." 15th. The patient passed a bad night 011 the 14th. She frequently spoke of her family, to whom she was tenderly attached. When in good health, she herself often observed, that she had too much of a family heart not to think of her relations. In the morning I found her nearly in the same state as when I left her on the preceding day. Her ideas still continued clear and profound. " What " think you," said she, ' l of the men who bar- " gain for their opinions in the market of " Paris ? Certainly they are losing sight of " their first duty. " Morality and justice are now invoked. JOURNAL. 131 * 4 This is done to avenge thirty years of humi- " liation. Minorities, when once they gain the " ascendency, never show any mercy to the " majorities they supersede. The fools and " fanatics of parties are always the sport of " the policy and ambition of plotters." " I feel/' said Madame Campan, " that my " dissolution is fast approaching. Every thing " seems to be vanishing from me. However, " my strength is not yet entirely gone, and I " will tell you an anecdote. I was dining " one day at Malmaison with the First Con- " sul, when he noticed the snuff-box which I " always carried with me, and taking it in his " hand, he recognised the features of Marie u Antoinette." " Good, very good, Madame Campan," said he, " this reflects credit on you. I hate in- " gratitude. It must be very satisfactory to " you to possess the image of that charming " woman. They would have ruined her in K 2 132 JOURNAL. " 1793 ; but who would they not have ruined t -" Their hatred of birth and titles bordered on " madness. You would have died with her, I 66 am sure, and I know you will die with her " portrait beside you." "Doctor," added she, after a pause: "he " spoke truly, as you see." 16th. During the night of the 15th, Ma- darne Campan was occupied in arranging mat- ters of business, and particularly in settling legacies on her domestics. When I visited her in the morning, the hand of death was upon her. Her extremities were cold, and her pulse had almost ceased to beat. " I wish to make my last will," said she, " but I do not think I can. Will you '" have the goodness to write for me ?" I eagerly signified my readiness to comply with her desire. " I must sign my name," said she, " though I know it is not neceesary. u My relations are all too honourable to fail in JOURNAL. 133 " the fulfilment of my last wishes." I must here note down an expression which forcibly marked the goodness of her heart. In be- queathing legacies to her domestics, Chenier and Genevieve, who had served her with the most affectionate fidelity, she said to me : " They have become my relations."* Having signed her name with some degree of difficulty, she paused, and said : " It will " be better to have a notary." Her own no- tary was immediately sent for, and she ex- plained to him with the greatest precision all that she wished to have done. The co- dicil was then presented to her for signa- ture. Her hand trembled, and she said with a smile : " It would be a pity to stop short " on so pleasant a road." Dissolution was fast approaching ; and every reviving remedy had failed. About * These two excellent servants are now in the house- hold of Madame Campan's niece. 134 JOURNAL. 11 o'clock the patient turned her head to- wards the window, which had been opened. The sky was clear, and the air refreshing. " This/' said she, " is the evening of a fine " day, which has been darkened only by a " few passing clouds. I am glad that I was in- " duced to visit Switzerland! I there passed " two months of unalloyed happiness * * *. / " She is so amiable, and our hearts were so " perfectly in unison. " My dear doctor, I arn no longer of this " world. We are about to part for ever. I " should have had many affairs to settle ; but " heaven has been pleased to ordain other- " wise." I endeavoured to support Madame Cam- pan's courage ; but alas, I found that my own deserted me. She exerted all her remaining strength to talk to us, in spite of all I said to induce her to refrain from speaking. She remained silent for a few moments, and then JOURNAL. 135 said : " I must express my thoughts in spite '' of every thing." Her mental faculties still retained all their energy. I had removed to a little distance from her bedside, and she called me back in a tone of voice less gentle than usual. I hastened to her ; and then re- proaching herself for this little mark of hasti- ness, she said: " How imperatively one speaks " when one has not time to be polite !' She read in our countenances that she had not long to live, in spite of the effort we made to conceal our feelings. Her breathing be- came more and more difficult ; and, about six in the evening she heaved her last sigh. Her excellent sister, Madame Pannelier, was among us at that sad moment. LETTERS OF MADAME CAMPAN LETTERS OF MADAME CAMPAN Mantes, Jan. 4th, 1819. SIR, The commencement of the new year, will, I presume, have induced you to quit C # * * on a visit to Paris. To see our re- lations and friends at the renewal of each succeeding year, is a gratification required by heart, as well as a law imposed by custom. This is the time, when travellers on the journey of life stop and rest, sa- lute each other, and say to themselves : Well ! here is one year ended ; how shall we pass that which is just begun ? The fashion 140 LETTERS OF of presenting sweetmeats at this season, is an allegorical expression of our wish that the ensuing year may glide away sweetly. The Romans used to give away, at the commence - ment of the new year, little pots of well-re- fined honey : but certainly our confectioners in the Rue des Lombards exceed all that was known to the ancients in the art of pre- paring these little presents. No doubt the society of the Prefect will afford you useful and agreeable recreation. He is a man of the world, and a man whose estimable qualities render him beloved in his department. I should conclude that he is very amiable in domestic life. One always finds in the family circle, a justification of the opinion formed of an individual by the ma- jority of the public. You are reading M. Ferrand's Esprit de rHistoire. It is, indeed, an exellent work : public opinion has pro- nounced this decision. Yet it is evidently written with a particular view. All, or almost all, the results tend to prove the MADAME CAMPAN. 141 superiority of old laws and customs ; a ques- tion which I do not mean to dispute, but which is not to be admitted as a positive principle. A country changes in the progress of time, just as scenes change in the course of a journey. The reason why there is so much misunder- standing at present, is, that certain individuals persist in speaking in the dialect of 1660, to a generation which has adopted a new dialect. I would advise you to study the pure and simple history of facts, without suffering your mind to be influenced by the opinion of any particular author. It should be your own task to compare one age with another ; and to reflect on the follies, faults, and crimes of different eras. For example, when history unfolds pictures of popular fury, and describes the atrocities occasioned by impiety or fanaticism, compare the murders of the Armagnacs and the Boarguignons, committed in the state prisons of Paris, with those per- petrated on the 2d of September, 1792: 14*2 LETTERS OF You will find that the causes of crime vary, but that men are always the same ; and you will see the horrors attendant on popular vio- lence., whether excited by religious or politi- cal fanaticism. If your thoughts be directed to headlong enterprises of valour, the love of arms, the ambition which distinguish con- querors, and the little which all their victories enable them to bequeath to their descendants, you will find Alexander, Charles XIL, and Napoleon, all on one line. If you reflect on those hazardous undertakings in which va- lour and wisdom must be counted for nothing, you will sec that Saint Louis perished in a foreign land, where countless numbers of brave men forfeited their lives ; and that Napoleon lost his army and his crown in a distant expedition : the one monarch was sacrificed on a burning southern soil, and the latter, amidst the snow of the north. If you look back to those crimes which time ren-. ders daily more and more odious, you may compare the massacre of St. Bartholomew, MADAME CAMPAN. 148 and the scaffolds of Robespierre. This is the true spirit of history ; it is the study of the foibles and passions of poor human nature. Would you see how far men may carry the abuse of unlawful power, read what the Maires du Palais did with their kings. Would you judge how powerful bodies of men may abuse their strength, look at the conduct of the old feudal chiefs, who, clothed in mail, descended from their strong holds, to lay waste woods and plains, to fire villages, and make kings trem- ble on their thrones. Would you contemplate the abuse of popular power, that may be found in the clubs of 1793, and under the furious and sanguinary red cap of the Jaco- bins. Such is the true spirit of history. I have not read this any where ; but I have read many things which have suggested these ideas. Whether priesthood or philosophy reign, one thing only can govern and restrain the passions of mankind. One thing alone can confer happiness on human nature ; and 144 LETTERS OF this is a good system of laws, judiciously administered by men inaccessible to influence, as well as to corruption. To a professor of the law, therefore, how necessary is the study of history, combined with the just con- templation of human actions. Labour perse- veringly. You have made choice of the finest path in the career of human life. Accept every assurance of my sincere and tender regard. G. C. P. S. I have just read over my hastily- written letter. Do not suppose I am a fe- male philosopher. You will make a mistake if you do. I have always revered the laws of my religion. But I have exercised my powers of observation, and I wish to induce you to do so likewise. That is all, I assure you. MADAME CAMPAN. 145 Mantes, May 13th, 1821. SIR, I have received your kind and agreeable let- ter, and I hasten to reply to it, as I am about to leave Mantes, and to travel. Yes, to travel, in the proper sense of the term, for I am going to Switzerland, during the season, to take the waters of Baden, either in the baths, or from the pump. I have been induced to undertake this journey, by the affectionate solicitations of my good nieces, and by the advice of my medical attendants. They assure me that this intended visit to Baden will have the effect of restoring rny health, and furnishing my mind with recollections of scenes and individuals which may, hereafter, not banish, for that is impossible, but at least help to divert away the painful thoughts that con- tinually haunt me. I propose returning in September. At the baths I expect to meet several ladies, formerly my pupils, whom it 146 LETTERS OF will afford me great pleasure to see again ; but I will never traffic for the tender recol- lections of friendship and the revered senti- ments of gratitude. I thought that nobody would consider it worth while to trouble their heads about an old woman, erased and cancelled from every favour, though her peace of mind is not dis- turbed by the consciousness of having com- mitted any wicked action. But I was mis- taken. It has been mentioned in several families in Paris, that I am about to take up my abode with my pupil, Hortensc. This is absolutely false. I am going only to Swit- zerland ; and I would not willingly have my poor bones laid at rest in any other country, save that which gave me birth. Fate sometimes changes for the better, at the very moment when it seems most hope- less. Your remarks on the judicial magistracy are exceedingly just, profound, and well digested. But you have looked only at the MADAME CAM PAN. 147 dark side of the picture. Examined in the right point of view, that dignified and useful profession will be found to be the very first in the civil branch of the government, and it should be uninfluenced by the advantages which the military profession has in all ages laid claim to. When poor, the magistracy are indeed much to be pitied, and still more so are their families, who may not be excited by the noble sentiments with which they are them- selves animated. They should call to mind the venerable recollections inspired in the church, by the bishops with wooden crosses, who forfeited so much of their merit to the detri- ment of religion, when their crosses came to be made of gold. An upright and intelligent judge, who has profoundly studied the law, and administers it impartially, who never bestows a glance on the exterior of him who appeals for justice, or who seeks to evade it ; a judge who sees only the important balance which is placed in his hand ; who, aware that a grain of sand will turn that ba- L 2 148 LETTERS OF lance, is guided only by God and his con- science,^ casting that grain of sand ; who bears in mind only the two imposing words, guilty or innocent; who knows that his government has framed laws, which he is called upon to administer, and that he must not consult the changes that may take place in that government, so long as the code remains unchanged ; a judge who turns a deaf ear to the dangerous entreaties of beauty bathed in tears, and wlio- is not to be tempted by gold, sees in his turn the warrior disarmed, submitting to the sentence of the law, which it is his office to pronounce. Such a man must be beloved and esteemed, whe- ther he reside in a capital containing a hun- dred thousand souls, or in a little town like Mantes. He reads the expression of respect in all eyes ; he is the terror of the wicked, and the hope of the just. To an honourable mind such a situation must surely afford the highest happiness. But I am making you read my scribbling, MADAME CAMPAN. 149 instead of directing your attention to some- thing of greater utility to you., and of higher interest to all. Read M. Guizot, on Justice, and on Political Influence. I believe I have not given you the proper title of the work. It was lent to me, and I read it from begin- ing to end, without ever laying it down. I returned it immediately, and I have forgotten the right title. However, the subject is what I have rnentioned, and you may easily pro- cure it. It will shew you the mischief which the sanguinary Jeffries caused in England, by selling his judgments to despotic power. Read also the Memoirs of the Marquess de Ferrieres, on the Constituent Assembly. They are admirable. I never for a moment quitted the scene of the memorable events described by the Marquess, and I can truly affirm, that I have not, during the last thirty years, seen any work on the subject, which can bear a comparison with these Memoirs. They afford an excellent clue for guiding the judg- ment through the extraordinary series of 150 LETTERS OF events of which they treat. Every one should make himself familiar with these events. They will be studied by our posterity, and placed on a parallel with the most remarkable crises of ancient history ; and yet how many young men of five and twenty enter upon the world unacquainted with the course of those incidents, the influence of which will long con- tinue to be felt. The Marquess de Ferrieres writes in a singularly pleasing and impar- tial style. The reader is led from the King's palace to the chambers, and from thence into the midst of popular commotions. When it is necessary to report speeches, just so much of them is given as serves to animate the interest without breaking the thread of the narrative. The Marquess, who was a de- puty of the nobility, retained his place on the right hand side of the chamber. His pure integrity, elevated sentiments, and correct turn of thinking, qualified him to take the clearest view of the great picture exhibited before him. He observes the faults of the MADAME CAMPAN. 151 right hand side of the assembly, the ambi- tious advances of the left, and in short, the errors of both parties, as though he were an unconcerned spectator looking down from the roof. This long letter, though an encroachment on your time, will at least serve to prove to you that time and misfortune have in no way diminished the tender interest which my heart has ever cherished for you. Let me \ impress upon your mind the necessity of reading. Without it, any education, however excellent, will prove abortive. All the learn- ing acquired in the best schools, is merely like the piece of canvass stretched upon a work-frame: reading produces on the mind the effect which variegated silks and worsteds impart to the canvass. A judicious course of reading will even make amends for a defective education. But I must conclude. Old age has the advantage of having seen much ! !>ut it is apt to fall into the error of saying too much. Accept a thousand assurances of my regard. 152 LETTERS OF Draveil, June 18th, 1821. MY DEAR EDMUND,* You are now in Paris. Your mother, your dear aunt, and your uncles, have contrived all sorts of amusements for you during holiday-time. Holidays are given to children as a reward for their industry; and on their return to school, good children shew their gratitude to their parents by resuming their studies with pleasure; for in the mean- while they have grown a little older, and as the understandings of young people are daily improving, they are every day the better able to learn. Little boys are shown many fine sights during their holidays. They are taken to the Jardin des Plantes, and there they are * This letter was addressed by Madame Campari to her son, after she had left him in Paris. MADAME CAMPAN. 153 told : this tree was brought from Japan, that from South America, that from India, &c. Who brought those trees to France ? Men who sailed over vast seas to procure these treasures for us. Who cultivated them in our climate ? Men who have devoted themselves to the study of every branch of vegetable cul- tivation. You will see the fine colonnade of the Louvre, the Hotel of the Mint, the Palace of Louis XV., &c. Who constructed those noble monuments ? Men who spent years in learn- ing the science of architecture, and who visited Italy to see and admire the monu- ments which that country possesses. You will see beautiful statues. Who sculptured the marble so exquisitely, that the figures look like real flesh, and the draperies like real dresses. Men whose talent has rendered their names immortal. You will see fine paintings which represent the persons of great heroes, and record their actions. All these things are the work of diligent Men. 154 LETTERS OF You will perhaps be taken to the play, and may see one of those tragedies which draw tears from our eyes, and picture to us the mis- fortunes of kings, princes, and heroes. Who are the authors of these plays ? Men who pur- sued their studies diligently, and whose minds were penetrated with the beauties of the clas- sic writers. But my dear Edmund, I should never finish my letter, were I to describe to you all the beautiful and useful things for which we are indebted to human labour. A little boy who is capable of reflecting, should say to himself: Wherever I go I see the produc- tions of genius and industry. I am the begin- ing of a man ; and that I may hereafter be able to leave behind me honourable recollections in my dear country, I must study as these illustri- ous men studied, when they were like me, only the beginnings of men. Thus my dear Ed- rnund, even while we are amusing ourselves, we may learn something from what we see and admire. Your old and sincere friend at Mantes, feels assured that your own under- MADAME CAMPAN. 155 standing will lead you to make useful reflec- tions. She is better than she was, and hopes to pass the winter with you and your mother, in her pretty house at Mantes. She sends her love to you. G. C. Zurich, July 27th. MY DEAR DAUGHTER, This letter will be a little volume, and it is wholly for you. I have already written to the worthy doctor, and I do not wish to excite any jealousy. You see how vain I am ! I was to have visited the abbey of Einsiedeln ; but I caught cold in coming from Baden to Zurich, and my friends whom I met at the springs, together with the abbe Bertrand, set out on their pilgrimage without me. They have just arrived, and they found the roads so exceed- 156 LETTERS OF ingly bad; that they are glad my cowardice induced me to renounce the design of accom- panying them. My old pupil is devoted to the strict observance of her religious duties : her misfortunes have made her feel the value of the powerful consolation afforded by prayer, and the hope of a happier world. It was her wish to confess and to receive the sacrament at the abbey. She fulfilled her pious design ; but unfortunately caught a severe cold. I could never have accomplished the pil- grimage to Einsiedeln. The road extends over mountains and rocks to the distance of three long leagues ; and there are but two places at which travellers can rest. The abbey is one of the most beautiful in existence ; indeed it may be said to be the finest, the richest, and the most frequented of any in Europe. It is calculated that a hundred thousand pilgrims repair thither every year ; eighty thousand on foot, and twenty thousand in carriages. It is no uncommon thing to see the whole inhabitants of some of the villages in the catholic MADAME CAMPAN. 157 cantons of Switzerland, going in procession to Einsiedeln. You, perhaps, expect to be spared the description of the abbey ; but you mistake, if you do. When I travel I must relate all I see and hear of : so have patience ; nothing will be omitted. Einsiedeln, or our Lady of the Hermitage, is situated in the canton of Schweitz, nine leagues from Zurich, and twelve from the French frontier. Menard, Count of Zollern, made choice of this romantic spot as the site of a little hermitage which he built for him- self, and whither he retired and lived for the space of thirty years in pious meditation, se- cluded from all intercourse with mankind. The Count was murdered at the hermitage, in the year 862, and the place was deserted for twenty-five years after; at which time another hermit, named Ebenard, inspired by pious re- solution, retired to it. In course of time the hermitage became celebrated, and in the year 906 the Emperor Otho founded the abbey of Einsiedeln, which he endowed 158 LETTERS OF with the extensive surrounding wastes, and also with some good lands, on the banks of the lake of Zurich. From that time the property of the abbey continued increasing, and in the fifteenth century its revenues amounted to a million of francs. At this period the abbot of Einsiedeln was made a prince of the empire. The abbey has subsequently lost a consider- able portion of its landed possessions ; but it still continues very rich. It is a truly magni- ficent monument. The abbot's residence is a palace, in which persons of rank and dis- tinguished pilgrims are received. I am truly sorry for not having visited Einsiedeln ; but the calash was dragged from rock to rock, for the space of three hours, and the swelling in my breast, which is still occasionally painful^ might perhaps have been rendered worse, even though I had incurred no more serious danger on the journey. My old pupil of Saint-Germain, who has now performed this pilgrimage for the third time within the last three years, happened to ob- MADAME CAMPAN. 159 serve, on the table at which I was writing, a memorandum containing a list of persons to whom I wished to take some objects of piety, touched by the miraculous Virgin, who is de- voutly worshipped by the good catholics of Switzerland. She carried the memorandum off by stealth, purchased every thing I had set down, and presenting them to me on her return " here," she said, " I have executed the commissions for your friends at Mantes." I am truly delighted with her. Divested, as she now is, of her dazzling and too evanescent splendour, she lives in a style of the utmost simplicity, relieving the wants of the poor, and rendering herself beloved by all who know her. She is exactly the woman which her in- teresting childhood led me to expect she would be. She was my pupil at the time when the fear of the executioner's axe forced us all to be citizens of the republic: and I formed her youthful mind without the most remote antici- pation of the exalted and unhappy destiny for which she was reserved. At length, however, 160 LETTERS OF the vicissitudes of her life are ended ; and I am not a little gratified to observe, that the reli- gious principles which I instilled into the minds of my pupils, the talents which I taught them to cultivate, afford, under adversity, a source of consolation and amusement. These are the blessings of an education founded solely on the basis of religion ; and at the same time em- bracing all that is calculated to form the judg- ment and cultivate the mind. What resources it affords in mature age, and in those cases, un- happily too frequent, when interested society forsakes us, because they have no longer need of our support, or because we are unable to offer them the pleasures which wealth once placed within our reach. The waters of Baden have proved beneficial to me ; and the swelling in my breast is con- siderably decreased. Switzerland is full of physicians, who are reputed to be very skil- ful. I have consulted one at Zurich, and another at Baden. Their opinions correspond- ed with those of my medical advisers in Paris, MADAME CAMPAN. 161 and with that pronounced by your husband ; and I was gratified to find that in judging like Frenchmen, they judged correctly. I hope soon again to see my little abode in the Rue Tillerni, and my drawing-room looking to the south. But alas ! I shall never more behold that object whose loss my heart incessantly deplores ! I am lodged here at an excellent inn, the sign of the Sword, where I have been confined to my room through the fatigue I sustained during my journey. The apartment is, how- ever, superb. It was recently occupied by the Queen of Bavaria, who, with her sister, Prin- cess Amelia, and the two young Princesses, lodged at this inn during their stay in Zurich. The rooms are fitted up in the most shewy style, after the Swiss fashion ; but, unfortu- nately, the beds are wretched, being nothing but straw matresses. The inn is built on piles, and it is approached by a prodigiously wide wooden bridge, thrown across the lake. Zurich M 162 LETTERS OF is an opulent city, and is now full of bustle, for the Helvetic Diet is at present sitting ; and the Landammans, Foreign Ambassadors, and y o 7 Deputies, are continually moving about. All this I have observed merely from my window. But what a window it is ! The beautiful and extensive prospect it affords has been painted and engraved, and the prints are sold in all the booksellers shops in Zurich. I should have liked to enrich my magic Ian thorn with a copy of this engraving; but the charge of thirty francs forced me to repress my wish. Tra- velling is very expensive, and if we did not resist the temptation of purchasing specimens of all the different productions of the countries through which we pass, we should not have money enough left to pay for our horses. However, I am collecting a few little articles, which may prove useful or agreeable to my friends ; for it is gratifying to enable them to say, she thought of me at Zurich, at Basle, or at Baden. Even my dear Edmund has been MADAME CAMPAN. 163 remembered ; but how could he be for- gotten ? Say every thing that is kind for me to dear Joseph and his little companion ; and forward the enclosed letter to Madame Saint Phar. Present my compliments to M. and Madame Jerville, to the Countess de la Saumaise, and to M. and Madame Meyer. Be sure to remem- ber me to M. Bouillon. His attention to me at the moment when I was bereft of all I held most dear, will render me grateful to him during the remainder of my life. Madame Voisin is very well ; but she has been forced to relinquish the use of the warm baths,, after a few trials. She was immediately attacked with a disorder which the Swiss call the poupfe. It is a general eruption of the skin, produced by the warm baths. The Swiss consider this poupee as very favourable to the health; but it is extremely inconvenient, and has a very ugly appearance. I have escaped it. Skilful physicians condemn the excessive M 2 164 LETTERS, &C. use that is made of the warm baths here. Many persons remain as long as seven hours a day immersed in the bath ; leaving it to go to dinner, and returning again when the meal is ended. LETTERS FROM MADAME CAMPAN TO HER SON. NOTICE BY THE EDITOR. The following letters contain the affectionate and judicious advice of a mother to a beloved son,, on his first entrance into life, dictated by the wish to guide him in the path of duty* and to warn him against the dangers with which youth is surrounded in its intercourse with society. In this correspondence Madame Campari mingles with her excellent instruc- tions, her recollections, observations and opi- nions, respecting all she formerly saw at the Court of France, as well as the interesting events which occurred during the latter period of her life. Her remarks on history, on lite- rature, and on the drama, are always sensible and well expressed. From the manner in which all the writings of Madame Campan have hitherto been received, it may confidently 168 NOTICE BY THE EDITOR. be anticipated that the correspondence now published, will excite that interest which can scarcely fail to be attached to letters written by a woman of distinguished ability, for the purpose of forming the principles, the under- standing, and the taste of a son whom she tenderly loved. LETTERS FRQM MADAME CAMPAN TO HER SON. 23d Messidor, Year IX. MY BELOVED SON, I addressed a few lines to you at Lyons ; but in my perplexity, I forgot the name of Monsieur *****=*. The individual whose name I unluckily substituted for the right one, felt, I presume, but little respect for a letter which would have afforded so much pleasure to my Henry. This at least will fol- low you to Montpellier ; for you cannot receive it at Lyons. 170 LETTERS OF You are now, my dear Henry, removed from my fond care and instruction; and young as you are, you have entered upon the vast theatre of the world. Some years hence, when time shall have matured your ideas, and enabled you to take a clear retrospective view of your first steps in life, you will be able to enter into my feelings, and to judge of the anxiety which at this moment agitates my heart. When first a beloved child, releasing itself from its nurse's arms, ventures its little tottering steps on the softest carpet, or the smoothest grassplot, the poor mother scarcely breathes ; she imagines that these first efforts of nature are attended with every danger to the object most dear to her. Fond mother, calm your anxious fears ! Your infant can, at the worst, receive only a slight hurt, which, under your tender care, will speedily be healed Reserve your alarms, your heart-beatings, your prayers to Providence ; for the moment when your son enters upon the scene of the world to select a character, which, if sus- MADAME CAM PAN. 1/1 tained with dignity, judgment and feeling, will render him universally esteemed and approved ; or to degrade himself by filling one of those low and contemptible parts fit for the vilest actors in the drama of life. Tremble at the moment when your child has to choose between the rugged road of industry and integrity, leading straight to honour and happiness ; and the smooth and flowery path which descends, through indo- lence and pleasure, to the gulph of vice and misery. Is it then that the voice of a parent, or of some faithful friend, must direct him to the right course. But good counsel, reiterated constantly in the same tone, may prove weari- some to his ear ; while a thousand varied voices, melodious as those of the syrens, are tempting him to launch into the carreer which must prove fatal to his happiness. We are led into allegory in attempting to describe feelings by which we are powerfully moved. In short, my dear son, I implore for you the aid of experience, that tardy but excel- 172 LETTERS OF lent instructress, and all I hope is, that you may not pay too dearly for her lessons. I left Paris on the 7th, at six in the morn- ing. On reaching home, I took a bath and lay down to rest in my closet, on the bed in which you used to sleep. I have not yet risen ; and I shall not leave this apartment without a feeling of pain. I shall write to you very often, for I wish to inform you of all I do, so that you may see me, as it were, reflected in a magic looking- glass. I shall address you as the dearest friend I have, and inform you of all my plea- sures and my pains, my good and my bad fortune. In like manner unfold your heart to me ; and you shall receive counsel when you stand in need of it. How many things I have to say to you ! Adieu ! my dear son ; continue to love me tenderly ; act so as to reflect honour on me, and secure happiness to yourself. P. S. Send me, I conjure you, every par- ticular respecting your studies ; those which MADAME CAMPAN. 1/3 you are now pursuing, and those upon which you are about to enter ; and also on your pub- lic examinations. Surrounded as you doubtless are, by thoughtless and trifling companions^ let your mother be the rallying point of your mind and heart ; the confidant of all your plans. I shall have sufficient interest to establish you in the world, because I have maintained, and shall always preserve, a useful and re- spectable character in society ; but I have not enough of that interest called favour, to raise you to eminence, unaided by your own exer- tions. I approve of the sentiments you express for a woman whom I esteem ; but experience con- vinces me that people who are fond of re- ceiving attention, and who love personal im- portance, without caring to do much to de- serve it, are generally content with society in- ferior to themselves ; while on the other hand, those who are stimulated by the laudable am- bition of rising in the world, seek to associate 174 LETTERS OF with their superiors. You have done the re- verse this winter ; but for so doing you have given me reasons, some of whieh are plau- sible, while others I have shewn to be insuffi- cient and inapplicable. Without any design of lecturing you, I send you these reflections, which occurred to me as I was walking about my garden. Reflect well on them. My duty is fulfilled in pointing out to you the course you should pursue in this world. Soon, that is to say, in a few years hence, the signal will be given for my de- parture hence ; but when one has to leave a son behind, life is always full of interest ; so true it is that paternity or maternity prolongs the period of our sojourn on earth. 1st. Thermidor, Year IX. Written in bed, at six in the morning. Yesterday evening, my dear son, Lecomte and I seated ourselves on the bench before my MADAME CAMPAN. 175 door, at the hour when the postman arrives with the letters. I hoped to receive one from Auxerre, but I was disappointed; and I sor- rowfully returned to my closet, with my hope deferred until this evening. My abode is now less busy than usual. The absence of all my pupils, of Madame Lefevre and my sister, ren- ders the place as solitary as the most retired spot in the country. But this tranquillity accords well with the melancholy and regret occasioned by the absence of my beloved son. I seated my- self near the window of rny library, and gazed with pleasure on the beautiful landscape which used to charm us both when we were together, a few months ago. From my window I could also see the garden in which all the happiest moments of your childhood were passed. On reading this I know what affectionate recol- lections will rush upon your mind, and trans- port you back for a time to your mother's home. You do not know, perhaps, that atCoubertin I took lessons in epistolary style, or I should 176 LETTERS OF rather say, I there learned to cherish the na- tural feeling which prompts us, when we write to those we love, to enter into details relating even to objects the most unimportant ; for to the absent all is interesting that serves to re- vive the recollections of former habits. I re- ceived these lessons while I was patiently writing letters for the peasant women, to send to their sons, who had been called out by the requisition, to join our armies. One of these letters, I remember, was as follows : " I have " to tell you, my dear Charles, that the great " plum-tree in front of our house, is this year " loaded with fruit ; that the hay-stack in the " little meadow is at least five feet higher than " it was last year ; that the great red cow has " got a beautiful black-and-white calf; and " that your godmother, Marianne Colot, will " soon be married to the farmer's son." I used to trace these details with the plea- sure which is experienced by the landscape painter, when he fixes on his canvass the sim- ple features of a rural scene ; and I was con- MADAME CAMPAN. 177 vinced that these simple epistles/ descriptive of purely natural sentiments and pleasures, must present a charm to every feeling heart. I will, therefore, my dear son, inform you of every thing that concerns me. I shall often lead you through my class-rooms, my cabi- nets, and my gardens. In thus bringing you home to me, I shall, in some degree, divert away the gloom which your absence diffuses around me. I shall make you think of your mother, whose thoughts are so fondly fixed on you ; and I shall banish from your susceptible, artless and inexperienced mind, any idea that might lead you to ruffle the calm and regular course of my life, and force me to mingle tears of sorrow with those which I shed in regret for your absence. In the first place, I must tell you that the most active repairs are going on in my house. The great dining-room is being newly painted, and my four class-rooms will, when finished, have an elegant appearance. I am getting the blue room newly papered, as otherwise it would not N 178 LETTERS OF have corresponded with the others. Since I am the victim of envy, only because I am at the head of the first establishment for female education in France, I must endeavour to rise above the level whence I have been so unjustly attacked. When the motion of the carriage- wheels is impeded by ruts, the driver must make a powerful effort to extricate himself from the difficulty. For want of this useful energy, how many suffer themselves to sink beneath the weight of disappointments and reverses, which, with a little resolution and perseverance, might have been but transiently felt. Never forget Coubertin, and the bill of 400 francs, which was all I possessed in the world, when I arrived at Saint Germain. Re- flect that this extreme distress was the fruit of imprudence on the part of your parents, ra- ther than the result of the French revolution. Do not suffer your family, of which you are now the head, to sink again into a state of degradation and embarrassment. Consider that while you are raising your fortune on the MADAME CAMPAN. 179 honourable bases of economy and industry, you have the advantage of belonging to a family of old established respectability, who enjoyed distinguished consideration amidst a numerous court. One should never cherish silly vanity; but it is proper to know how to appreciate ad- vantages, which, though merely accidental, will, if rightly viewed, stimulate us to the attain- ment of personal and positive merit. Learn to know the value of money. This is a most essential point. The want of eco- nomy leads to the decay of powerful empires, as well as of private families. Louis XVI. pe- rished on the scaffold, for a deficit of fifty mil- lions. There would have been no debt, no as- semblies of the people, no revolution, no loss of the sovereign authority, no tragical death, but for this fatal deficit. States are ruined through the mismanagement of millions, and private persons become bankrupts, and end their lives in misery through the mismanage- ment of crowns worth six livres. It is very N 2 180 LETTERS OF important that I should lay down to you these first principles of right conduct, and impress upon your mind the necessity of adhering to them. Render me an account of the expendi- ture of your money, not viewing me in the light of a rigid preceptress, but as a friend who wishes to accustom you to the useful habit of accounting to yourself. The marriage of M***** is still in progress. He is so extremely odd, that a few days ago I was almost tempted to send him obout his business. He is really verging on madness ; he does not know r his own mind for two moments running, However, the idea of being married renders his intended wife pleased with him. I hope he will be able to perceive how much he gains in the possession of a meritorious woman. MADAME CAM A AN. 181 1 st Thermidor, Evening. My neighbour, Lefevre, being alone, I went to-day to dine with him, and to enjoy the beautiful prospect which his house commands, taking Henrietta Guillemot along with me. There, my love* I received your letter, and with what delight did I peruse it. I was much amused by your de- scription of the full-dressed ladies ; but one must not conceive prejudices against people in the country, on account of the singularity of their dress. Recollect that women may be intelligent, well educated and amiable, though they cannot consult fashionable oracles like Leroi and Mademoiselle Despeaux. To-morrow morning my balcony will be finished. Present my remembrances to good M. Bastide, and my beloved Nina. Adieu, my dear Henry ; I send you a thousand kisses. 182 LETTERS OF 13th Thermidor, Year IX. Yesterday I looked most impatiently for a letter from my dear traveller ; but the mes- senger arrived without bringing a line from you. I passed a very uneasy night. I dreamed I saw you languishing in sickness. Methought you had met with an accident; I knew not how ; but you were overwhelmed with sorrow at the idea of being obliged to stop short in the career on which you have entered, and to re- nounce a profession which requires health and activity. The approach of day relieved me from these painful feelings. On awaking, I reached your portrait, which is placed at my bed-side, and while I gazed on it, my heart poured forth the anguish which a fond mother feels in the absence of her beloved son. But these melancholy thoughts gradually vanished, as the dawn of morning and the light of reason approached, dispelling at once the shades of MADAME CAMPAN. 183 night, and the clouds which enveloped my fancy. I unfold to you, my dear Henry, all my inmost thoughts and feelings, to enable you to see the place you occupy in my heart, and to convince you how entirely it depends on your conduct to render me happy and contented, or to plunge me into the abyss of affliction and regret. Happy the woman, who in old age can say : " I am the mother of a worthy man, a useful member of society ; and he, in his turn, will be the parent of a line of offspring who will never disgrace the honourable name they inherit." How am I distressed to observe so many young men of the present genera- tion, condemned by silly pride to a life of in- activity, which must inevitably lead to ruin. I see the sons of illustrious families disdaining to accept employments beneath their former rank, and from aristocratic feelings, decliningto bear arms in defence of their country; thus dooming themselves to the sad alternative of parading the streets of Paris, or if they can afford it, prancing on horseback along the Boulevards, or 184 LETTERS OF in the Bois de Boulogne. Within the circle of my acquaintance I could enumerate, in the cast of the old nobility, six N***'s, two B***'s, two M***'s, two G***'s, and three N***'s, who are now sunk into absolute insignificance, and plunged into disgraceful inactivity. If the laws of equality have deprived them of their privileges, the laws of honour should deter them from pursuing a course which renders them useless to their country. 12th Fructidor, Year IX. MY DEAR HENRY, Eight long days must elapse ere you can re- ceive this letter, in spite of my ardent wishes for its speedy arrival. Oh ! that I could give it wings, that it might fly to my beloved child with the consolation and encouragement which MADAME CAMPAN. 185 I trust it will impart to him. The sensations you now experience, my dear, are com- mon to all young persons of susceptible feel- ing, on their first separation from beloved pa- rents ; but you must banish this melancholy, which, if indulged, would degenerate into a weakness degrading to your sex, and deprive you of reason, courage, reflection and activity. In the first place you must be aware that you could not remain with me without retarding the progress of your education, which could only be properly pursued in Paris. A man should seek to gain information by travelling, he must encounter and endure misfortune ; contend against danger and temptation, and finally temper his rnind so as to give it the strength and solidity of the hardest metal. All this cannot be effected in a sedentary life. It is a man's business to direct, to form and to defend his fortune ; it is a woman's task to obey, and to attend to her family and do- mestic affairs. The qualities suited to the female sex are so unfitted to men, that thei r 186 LETTERS OF utter condemnation is pronounced by the term effeminate. Consider that you have now attained the age, when neither money, prayers nor tears could have saved you from being sent as a soldier to distant countries ; where you must have carried heavy baggage on your back, and have encountered death at every step, not only on the field of battle, but amidst the fatigue which has proved fatal to thou- sands of young men, who, like yourself, were nursed in the lap of comfort and competency. Praise God, my dear, instead of uttering com- plaints ; for without any feeling of bigotry, this habit of addressing our prayers and thanksgivings to a Power superior to any on earth, tends to elevate and enlarge the mind, to support us under affliction, and to render us humble and unassuming in prosperity. Let me impress upon you the importance of attentive application to business ; for that affords certain consolation, and is a security against lassitude, and the vices which idleness MADAME CAMPAN. 187 creates. Besides., as I mentioned to you, in a letter which you must already have received, you are at Marseilles, solely with the view of completing your commercial education. Labour, therefore, diligently, to form your style, and your hand writing, and also to gain a knowledge of arithmetic. Having ac- o o o complished all this, you shall return and pass a few weeks with your mother, who will rejoice to see you advancing in the career of honour and prosperity. There is a touch of apathy in your disposition ; and perhaps you will scarcely believe me, when I assure you, that in this respect my own character resembles your's. But the artifi- cial strength which we exert from principle, and a sense of duty, increases our stock of natural strength. After passing two or three months with me, it is my intention to send you to Eng- land, where new manners, a new country, and a language which you cannot fail to ad- mire, will afford inexhaustible sources of 188 LETTERS OF pleasure to you. Once more, my dear Henry., I implore you, make a good use of your time. Send me the name of M***'s chief clerk, and I will write him a letter which will, perhaps, help to increase his interest for you. Your second letter somewhat eased my mind respecting the coolness of M***. How can you have incurred his dislike ? A young man, on whose character the plod- ding of business has yet exercised no influence, is almost always sure to please in society. You hinted, once, at some unplea- sant conversation which occurred at table, and you have said not a word more on the subject. Tell me, tell your mother, without reserve, if any thing has happened to vex you. Your second letter is, however, consola- tory. It describes you seated in a good post- chaise, with a travelling companion. How deeply am I interested in this companion. Is he agreeable ? above all, is he good ? Is he devoted to dissipation and idleness ; or is he intent on the pursuit of advancement and MADAME CAMPAN. 189 prosperity f How anxious I feel to know this young man's character. Let me have a minute account of him. Be cautious how you form connexions ; and hesitate not to break them off on the first proposition to adopt any course which your affectionate mother warns you to avoid, as fatal to your real happiness, and to the attainment of that respect and esteem which it should be your ambition to enjoy. My dear son, be a man, and steadily pursue the strait and certain course which leads to honour and happiness. It is not a smiling path ; but at the journey's end every reward and indemnity will await you. On the other hand, the career of vice is full of seductive charms. It is strewed with flowers, and smoothed by the fatal illusions of indolence and luxury ; while the smiles of beauty, and the deceitful favours of fortune, combine to intoxicate the unwary victim, and to impel him onward to the brink of the precipice 190 LETTERS OF whence he is hurled headlong, never to rise again. Your uncle is not here, and has no inten- tion of coming. This is a mere idle tale ; but I have no doubt it was told you with- out any mischievous design. I must now bid you farewell. This is Sunday ; it is the festival of the Loges, and I have not been able to write a line without twenty inter- ruptions. Adieu, then, my dear Henry, be prudent and diligent ; be attentive in the discharge of your duty, and join cheerfully in the recreations which are afforded you. Adieu ! once more. How painful it is to leave you ; but 1 will write to you often, very often, be assured of that. Your nurse is here, and has delivered the letter to me. Dr. and Madame Lecomte send their love to you. MADAME CAMPAN. 191 14th Fructidor, Year IX. MY DEAR SON, I wrote to you yesterday, and this morning, and with undiminished pleasure I take up my pen to address you again. Your young heart feels the want of a guide like your mother, and by continual correspondence, I will en- deavour to bring myself near you. M. Audi- bert is at Marseilles ; find out where he lives, m and give him the enclosed letter. It cannot but be gratifying to you, to behold the face of one whom you have often seen at Saint- Germain, a frequent visitor at your mother's house. Besides, he will introduce you to some good families ; not that you may have the opportunity of idly wasting your time ; for you know too well that you are not at Marseilles, and absent from me for the sake of pleasure : but these introductions will afford the means of passing your leisure hours agreeably, and will enable you to avoid the 192 LETTERS OF improper connexions into which a young man is always liable to be led by another young man, of whose character he is igno- rant. How anxious I am to know some- thing about the companion of your journey. Is he well informed ? Is he industrious ? What are his habits and connexions ? Answer all these questions, so important to a mother, who knows all the influence of early friend- ships. Alas ! that I am not a man, since my only child must pursue the course which the education of his sex indispensably requires ! How I wish that I could travel with him, |j guide him and stimulate him to the love of industry by my precepts, and above all, by my example. To me this would be second life ; the true enjoyment of existence. But the cares required in infancy, and in the tender years of childhood, being once fulfilled, your mother, like all other mothers, can do no more than give you good advice. Oh ! may my counsel prove useful to my Henry, and may I, like my sister, one day justly MADAME CAMPAN. 193 pride myself in the conduct of my son ! How happy shall I be when the chorus of general approbation salutes my ear! Then I may sincerely say I have lived long enough, and I may commence a new career of exist- ence, to enjoy with you your happiness and prosperity. My dear son, when you peruse these lines, know that they come from the very bottom of my heart ; that the unstudied phrases, which flow rapidly under my pen, are dictated by the utmost warmth of mater- nal affection. I enclose a letter for M. ***, jun. Deliver it to him immediately. This young man is said to be rather too much addicted to pleasure and company ; but there is a wide distance between his condition and your's ; and while you are resolved to distinguish yourself by industry, application, and other good quali- ties, there can be little danger of your being led astray. Consider any kindness you may experience in the light of a favour, and not as an attention due to you. A young clerk can o 194 LETTERS OF have no claim upon attention ; therefore divest yourself of all such ideas. Before you write to rne, read over my letters ; they will serve to guide you in your answers. The distance which separates us makes me so anxious to hear from you, that I am distressed when you neglect replying to any of my letters. Tell me how you are accommodated with respect to board and lodging. You know how my heart longs to know every thing concerning you. Improve your hand-writing, and attend assiduously to business. Recollect that to whatever profession you might have devoted yourself, whether a soldier, a lawyer, a phy- sician, a merchant, or a farmer, diligence is indispensably necessary to ensure success. I went to the Fair des Loges, where I was much amused. Madame de *#* : * : took me with her, in an elegant four-wheeled carnage, where we rode at our ease, and in perfect safety. The populace were very merry, but at the same time very orderly ; for there was not the least disturbance. The fair was graced by the pre- MADAME CAMPAN. 195 scnce of numerous Parisian beauties, dressed a la grecque. The amusements varied according to the different tastes and circumstances of the parties who partook of them. There was one group engaged in drinking, and at a little distance was another, swallowing ices. One party was seated on the grass, feasting on a leg of mutton ; and others were regaling them- selves with chickens and savoury pies. One was contentedly drinking a glass of wretched wine, while his neighbour was refreshing himself with an ice cream. All entertained themselves in the best way their means would permit; and I was highly amused in con- templating the picture. But the hand of equality, which is felt by all, diffused intol- lerable clouds of dust 3 covering, without tinction, the elegant rose-coloun the humble blue cotton petticoafljj JJ jy ] Adieu, my dear son. The s] pleasant rural scene must conclude but I cannot fold it up, without once more giving you assurances of that ardent affection o2 196 LETTERS OF which must be visible in every line I trace, and which I can never, for a moment, cease to cherish for you. 24th Fructidor, Year IX. MY DEAR HENRY, I have not yet received the letter which you entrusted to the care of G***. I have heard nothing of his return ; and I presume that, without bestowing a thought on me or Saint- Germain, he has made a visit to Paris, to enjoy the pleasures from which his brother withdrew him. Your last letter very much pleased me, and ? Increased my impatience for that which was immediately to follow it. I observe that your ideas are more accurately expressed, and more methodically arranged, than in your MADAME CAMPAN. 197 former letters. From amidst the tints which were confusedly mingled together on your palette, you have selected the proper colours for painting your sentiments and reflections with correct effect. I see you will be able to write well. When you inform me of the man- ner in which you arrange your time, I will send you some books, free of carriage. In addition to the multitude of things with which the well-informed man should store his memory, it is necessary to direct attention to those ac- quisitions which are most immediately con- dusive to happiness ; and the art af writing with elegance and facility is certainly one of these. I shall send you a new edition of Madame de Sevigne's Letters, and of Cicero's Letters to Atticus, together with two other volumes of the Epistles of that prince of orators, who excelled in the art of ri vetting the bonds of friendship by the charm of his correspondence, as well as in the power of moving the feelings, and exciting the admira- tion of his auditors in the senate. I know 198 LETTERS OF that you cannot dovote any great deal of time to reading ; but you will easily see how much may be done by a just distribution of your hours. I do not disapprove of your occasion- ally enjoying a little recreation, with the two companions who have shewn such a wish to cultivate your acquaintance ; but do not make yourself the slave of pleasure. Endeavour to snatch a few moments for the practice of drawing, in which you have already made so much progress. Never neglect to appropriate a certain portion of your time to useful read- ing; and do not imagine that even half an hour a day, devoted to that object, will be unprofitable. The best way of arranging and employing one's time is by calculation ; and I have often reflected that half an hour's reading every day,, will give one hundred and eighty hours reading in course of the year. Great for- tunes are amassed by little savings ; and po- verty, as well as ignorance, are occasioned by the extravagant waste of money and time. My heart prompts me to give you counsel on MADAME CAMPAN. 109 every point in which your future happiness may be concerned. My affection for you, my dear Henry, is still as actively alive as when, in your infancy, I patiently removed every little stone from a certain space in my garden, lest, when you first ran alone, you might fall and hurt your face on the pebbles. But the snares now spread beneath your steps are far more dangerous. They are strengthened by seduction, and the ardour of youth would hurry you forward to the allurement; but that my watchful care, and the confidence you repose in me, serve to counteract the in- fluence of this two-fold power. Your bark is gliding near a rapid current ; but your fond mother stands on the shore, and with her eyes fixed on her dear navigator, anxiously exclaims, in the moment of danger, " Reef your sails, " mind your helm." Oh ! may you never forget, or cease to be guided by these warn- ings, which come from my very inmost heart. 200 LETTERS OF 28th Fructidor, Year IX. MY DEAR HENRY, I have just closed a packet of letters on which I have been engaged since nine in the morning ; and the sun is now sinking behind the mountain of Marly, exactly fronting the windows of my library, whence I am now writing to you. I am heartily tired, as you may suppose,, but when once I allow my correspondence to get into arrear, I am obliged to doom myself to a day's penance, in order to clear my desk. It will be well if I retain my strength and activity a few years longer, for your future good, and to secure to myself a competency for old age, when the pure and resigned heart tranquilly awaits the approach of death, without, however, ceasing to feel in- terested in the scene of life, while it is still tied to the world by the bonds of affection. You have now entered upon your labours MADAME CAMPAN. 201 diligently. Advance steadily in your new career. You must submit patiently to the discipline of the common soldier. Consider that in any profession, if you be determined, you may one day or other enjoy the fortune and distinction of those who are at the head of it. Determination is every thing : it is the vehicle which constantly drives one for- ward without ever retrograding. I have seen J * * * ? anc [ I think him very agreeable. In the first place he spoke of my son, whom he had seen more recently than I had; this is always sure to please a mother; and secondly, he informed me that you were well in health, and comfortably lodged. You must, by this time, be in possession of a quarto volume of my letters ; and the anxiety which has so much depressed me, ought to be at an end. I cannot understand the cause of this delay : you may judge of it from the date of my let- ters, in which I have always been punctual. Madame Lecomte is gone to Sussy, to be present at the marriage of Armandine. She 202 LETTERS OF will, however, return this evening. Her ab- sence has rendered my duty two-fold; and therefore this letter must be brief. I hope to receive one from you this evening, and to learn that you are no longer disturbed by ap- prehensions respecting my health, which has been uniformly good. Adieu my love ! 8th Vendemiaire, Year X. Probably, my dear Henry, I am the first governess who ever ventured to say to a young girl of fifteen : " Miss, you are handsome, very " handsome. I choose to be the first to address " this compliment to you, because I shall add " to it the assurance your beauty will soon de- " cay. In the duration of human life, beauty " lasts no longer than the bloom of the rose, " which we see fading in the evening, while " we regret that we did not pluck it in the " morning. You are handsome, I say again, " but I add, with equal truth, that you are silly, MADAME CAMPAN. 203 " vain,, giddy, ignorant,, and somewhat un- '' feeling. Remember that all these faults, < instead of v anishing in a few years, like your '' beauty, will increase with age, and be a :i torment to yourself, and to all connected " with you, when your face will not retain a " single handsome feature." This, my dear Henry, I said a few days ago to one of my pupils, whose name, were I to mention it, would add nothing to the force of the comparison which I am about to draw, j shall, therefore, say to my son, without the fear of inspiring him with misplaced or dan- gerous vanity: " You are clever, my dear " Henry, very clever. But let not this flatter " you. Talent is almost always a fatal gift, " when unguided by prudence and industry. " When it escapes from the control of reason " and virtue, it is a flame which, destroying " every thing within its reach, and the thick " smoke which it emits, distorts every object, " and prevents us from seeing the road to hap- " pi ness, if the flame be not employed to 204 LETTERS OF " kindle the torch of reason, which can alone " guide and direct us. Libertines, spend- " thrifts and gamesters, are almost all clever. u My father used to say, that in France, talent f( was to be found every where ; but that like " a bill of exchange, it was of no value unless " endorsed by reason." I like to use metaphors that are derived from commerce, because it is my wish that all your ideas should be directed towards the object which ought exclusively to engage you. After this long preamble, I shall tell you that talent enables us to judge, to choose, and to foresee ; but that young people of your age, if guided merely by hastily-conceived im- pressions, are continually liable to fall into mis- takes. The facility of embellishing false ideas, and smoothingd own sophisms, is one of the unfortunate results of ill-directed talent. The inconsequence of your reasoning sufficiently proves this. M. D****'s parents, you say, are unfortu- MADAME CAMPAN. 205 nately circumstanced. You know well that you may, with a few exceptions, compare your own case with his. He is closely engaged in occupations which will, in a short time, render him master of all the knowledge requisite in the management of an extensive commercial concern. You yourself wish to possess this in- formation ; you feel it to be indispensably ne- cessary to your advancement ; but you shrink from the exertion which the acquisition of it demands. You must be aware, that a young man without fortune, and who is entirely de- pendent on the fruits of his mother's industry, should indefatigably pursue the means of pro- viding for himself. If you do not anxiously look forward to the time when you may say: " I live by my own labour," I shall, my dear, son, think you very inconsiderate, and I shall be grieved to see you make so ill a use of your understanding. Remember, too, that it depends on yourself to avoid any thing like ill treat- ment, since your own conduct may, if you 206 LETTERS OF please, render you beloved and esteemed. Surely you ought to have no cause to say : they do not like me ; they are prejudiced against me. People who are rich, powerful or proud, love to protect youth ; it is only success or pretension that create enemies : they will not be wanting when you rise to prosperity. But an unsuspecting, modest and industrious young man, possessing the advan- tage of premature experience, measures half his way to advancement in life, at the age when he naturally gains friends and patrons- May your mother's precepts conduct you to happiness ! Let me be the guide of your youth- ful years, and with what pleasure I shall here- after say : " You no longer require my care ; " be you in your turn the guardian of my de- " dining life." Yes, my dear Henry, I will send you my portrait, painted in the same manner as the MADAME CAMPAN. 207 doctor's likeness ; and you will read in my eyes the expression of the love I cherish for you. I shall write to M. A^*^^ to-morrow, to re- quest that he will purchase you some books, for which I will pay him when I see him here. If you are very eager to get them, shew him this letter, with a thousand remembrances from me. A^^^^ leaves Grignon on the day after to-morrow. I will then send you every thing you want ; but he has been, for this month past, almost continually in the country. The minister of the Interior dined with me yesterday. All went oif as usual, with infinite compliments and expressions of admiration. My professors will be appointed, and all will have reason to be satisfied. Youmust, by thistime, be possessed of whole volumes of my letters, every line of which breathes expressions of the warmest maternal affection. I once more reiterate my recom- mendation of assiduity, industry and prudence. There is some talk of peace in Paris. What a happiness ! but the report has been so often 208 LETTERS OF circulated, that we can place no reliance on it. I am sitting in my library writing this letter, and I enclose in it a kiss, which I send off on the loveliest evening imaginable. Adieu ! 15th Vendemiaire, Year X. MY DEAR SON, I wrote only a few lines to you yesterday, just for the sake of relieving your anxiety; and I am glad to find that the receipt of a letter from your mother is one of your greatest pleasures. You would wish to hear from me every other day. For my part I enjoy no hap- piness like that of corresponding with you ; and the consolation of sending you letters, which, I trust, will prove useful to you, in some degree, lessens the sorrow occasioned by your absence. MADAME CAMPAN. 209 I enclose two letters from your uncle ; I shed tears as I perused them. I find that honourable feelings of pride deter him from making certain applications ; and I must therefore make up my mind never to see him more, or at least very seldom. The absent are not thought of by a newly established government : and the thousands of favours of which they can dispose, would require to be doubled, to satisfy the expectations of all who have had a share in securing our extra- ordinary triumphs. The services of my bro- ther are of older date than those of any other individual now living ; and though itis difficult to judge impartially where one's own interests are so nearly concerned, yet I feel that the government cannot be reproached for neg- lecting a man who is out of sight, and whose services preceded the period when the indi- viduals, now in power, were called upon to exercise their important duties. If my bro- ther were here, he would, I doubt not, be speedily rewarded as a man who might be p 210 LETTERS OF usefully employed. But circumstances de- tain him elsewhere, and the tender ties of a wife and three children have, in some mea- sure, naturalized him in a foreign country. You, my dear Henry, will, I hope, one day, feel the power of these sacred connexions ; and the affection which you cherish for your mother, shews me what is to be expected of you in the characters of husband and father. Virtues are linked to each other ; and, unfor- tunately, vices are in like manner chained to- gether. How happy is he whose conduct and attainments justly authorize him to enjoy the title of an honourable and well-informed man. He whose fortune is the fruit of his own. labour, whose tastes are well directed, and whose mind is free from the influence of bad passions, certainly enjoys all the felicity which belongs to mortal existence. I therefore conjure you, my dear son, to apply yourself earnestly to business, to correct the little faults of your temper Indulge every enchanting dream of future happiness, for this is not only a MADAME CAMPAN. 211 source of present pleasure, but also a stimu- lus to future exertion. It is right to cherish the illusions of imagination, when they are directed to objects which tend to elevate the mind. The soldier, whose bosom is fired by warlike enthusiasm, may fancy, while sleeping in his bivouac, that he is beneath the damask tent of the general-in-chief ; and he cannot con- ceive this idea, unaccompanied by feelings of exalted courage, and a sense of the duties required in the high rank to which his thoughts are directed. The young student in the Universities of Leipsick and Gottingen, who patiently pores over huge volumes, to make himself familiar with the law of na- tions, and who stores his memory with the various treaties that have been concluded be- tween belligerent powers, never thinks of being sent as ambassador to one of the great capitals of Europe, except on the supposition, that he has surmounted all the difficulties that attend his progress. So it is with the young clerk in a commercial house. If he p2 212 LETTERS OF dream of possessing a house in the Rue Cerutti, or in any other part of the Chausse'e- cFAutin ; if he fancy himself the owner of an elegant country residence, a few leagues from Paris, he is forced to go back to the point from which his imagination took wing, and reflect that it is only by dint of regularity, economy, intelligence and activity, that he can win the confidence requisite to ensure his advancement. Nature has given you a good letter of recommendation ; namely, the power of pleasing : but she has endowed you with an unfortunate quality in your sus- picious disposition, and your readiness to take offence. I will tell you a truth which you cannot yet know, from your own experience ; and this is, that a young man of sixteen has no enemies to fear. People feel a pleasure in advising, supporting and protecting youth. A man must be possessed of power before he is assailed by rivals and enemies. You will have your's, if you prosper in life. What will become of you then, since you fancy yourself MADAME CAMPAN. 213 an object of enmity, at an age when you must naturally inspire kindness ? At present, any rivals you may have can only be on a level with yourself: they are, therefore, young ; and in youth any malevolent feelings, excited by ambition, are easily subdued by polite and friendly attentions. Such sentiments are more to be feared at a later period of life. I must also advise you to be less hasty in pronouncing your opinion of people. I do not like to hear you exclaim so rashly that this one is a fool, and the other a coxcomb. Form your own opinion, if you please ; but do not give it utterance, until time convince you that it is correct. How often will a generous action compel you to repent having bestowed the title of miser, on a man who may happen to be somewhat parsimonious in his habits. A well written letter, bearing proofs of informa- tion and judgment, may force you to acknow- ledge that a timid young man, whom you may have heard aukwardly stammering out a few words, is not the fool which you presumed he 214 LETTERS OF was. In sucli cases, if you keep your opinion to yourself, the mistake is soon rectified; but if, on the contrary, you have promulgated your rashly-formed judgment, how can you retract your indiscreet declarations in every quarter where you may be sensible they must injure the individual to whom they relate. It is by reflections of this kind, my dear Henry, that you must endeavour to form your cha- racter, and to render yourself truly worthy of esteem. 25th Vendemiaire, Year X. Endeavour, my dear son, to discover the cause of the coolness shewn by M***. I de- clare to you that I never spoke of the hope you entertain to any one, except the doctor, who certainly is not the man to go to Paris and make acquaintance with M***, for the MADAME CAMPAN. 215 purpose of relating to him a circumstance in which he himself could feel interested only through his regard for you. Question your- self have you committed any mischievous trick ? Have you suffered any imprudent observations to escape you ? The lesson which you received at Neuilly, on your first entrance upon the world, ought to have made a lasting impression on your mind. Have you shewn any aversion to business ? Have you been less diligent than you should be ? Have you given offence to any one ? Examine your- self closely, as if you were on confession ; and your heart being innocent, and your intentions pure, go straight to your friend and explain yourself to him. If you find you have been in the wrong, shew that you have good sense and candour to confess your fault ; for none but fools refuse to acknowledge the errors they have committed. Do this, and be assured that he who at first gave you so kind a reception, will not hesitate to forgive you, and to restore you to that friendship which is 216 LETTERS OF so essential to your present and future happi- ness. I wish I were near you at this moment, to comfort and encourage you. I have just received your letter, and though my sight is very had, I sk down to answer it hy candle-light. I fondly embrace you, my dear boy. I am as anxious to have a letter from you, as you are to receive this. I wish it could fly to you. Adieu, my dear Henry. Be not downcast or impatient. Let your conduct be correct, and continue to love your mother, who adores you. 10th Frimaire, Year X. I have just received your letters, dated the 29th Brumaire, and the 1st Frimaire. I assure you, my love, the melancholy tone in which you write has seriously distressed me. Whenever I understood that M. Cachard was MADAME CAM PAN. 217 coming to Paris, I concluded that you would be solitary and comfortless. As to my wish, as to the happiness I myself should enjoy in (pressing you to my bosom, I banish the fond idea, when I reflect that the journey would oblige you to suspend, for the space of two months, your arithmetical lessons, which are so important in the occupations in which you are daily engaged. A prudent mother, who looks to her son's real interests, willingly resigns herself to these sacrifices of affection. I can very well conceive the enthusiastic spirit which animated the Roman matrons. Had you entered the army, I would have wished you to raise yourself to distinction, at the hazard of your life. In the commercial pro- fession, it is necessary that you should labour diligently in youth, to enable you afterwards to live at ease, instead of being tied to the desk to post your ledger in a heated counting- house. Fortune helps us forward in the first step ; but industry enables us to attain the se- 218 LETTERS OF cond. Fortune may favour us again, it is true; but if we trust to her aid alone, we shall only go limping forward, and be in con- stant danger of falling. I must certainly acknowledge, that fortune has helped me in my establishment ; but at present I must depend on my own efforts. Yes, in spite of my advanced age, I find it necessary to exert myself more than ever, and zealously dis- charge the duties of my situation. Never allow yourself to be disheartened, my dear Henry. While I write this letter, I am sitting in the place which you say is so often present to you in idea. My sister is seated before me, in the arm-chair next the side-board. She has just broken open a letter from Lucien, in which she reads the following passage : " The drum " is now beating as the signal for embarka- " tion. We are all in the midst of confusion. " In an hour hence we shall be at sea, con- " signed to the chances of that uncertain " element. You need not expect to hear from MADAME CAMPAN. 210 " me within less than four months." My sister is bathed in tears, and I cannot refrain from weeping. Such, my son, is the fate of mankind : when once the years of childhood are past, we must prepare for laborious exer- tions and painful vicissitudes. Learn to be- have like a man, since nature has placed you in that distinguished class of the human species. Do not deplore the want of friends of your own age. It is better that you should have a friend older than yourself ; therefore cultivate the friendship of M. Cachard. Your uncle's indiiference for youthful companions proved of great advantage to him. Madame ##### is an excellent teacher ; just such a one as I want. Write to her on this subject. Do not think about plays> or any thing which may distract your attention from busi- ness. Answer all my questions punctually. Adieu, my dearest son, my pride, my future happiness, adieu. 220 LETTERS OF Vendemiaire, YearX. This letter is endorsed in the hand writino* o of Madame Campan's son : Vendemiaire , from my mother. MY DEAR HENRY, I am very much pleased with what you tell me respecting the intentions of M. Cachard, and the continued marks of friendship which you receive from M. Bastide. They both seem inclined to protect you against any unkind treatment. Profit by the lessons you receive from the individual who has been chosen by M. Bastide, and who, though haughty and pedantic, nevertheless possesses a knowledge of the particular branch of business which you are pursuing. It is most essential that you should acquire information on a subject on which your prosperity depends. At this moment I feel particular satisfaction in look- MADAME CAMPAN. 221 ing forward to your future success ; for my ad- vanced age and the impediments which per- sonal jealousy throw in my way, almost de- prive me of the hope of increasing my fortune. Indeed, it is not unlikely that after all the fa- tigue and trouble I have suffered, my old age may require the support of filial affection. A vexatious circumstance, arising out of the malevolence of the world, has just now oc- curred to me. A lady of Lille, who has cor- responded with me about six months, being pleased with the plainness and candour of my letters, and with the account I gave her of my plan of education, lately wrote to me as fol- lows: " At length I am preparing to depart " for Saint-Germain, where I shall enjoy " the pleasure of seeing the amiable and vir- " tuous woman, to whose care I am about to " confide all I hold most dear. I shall have " the happiness of seeing the object of my u tenderest affection, graced with every estim- " able qualification of mind and heart. I " am now in the midst of all the confusion ne LETTERS OF " cessarily attendant on my approaching de- " parture from home ; but I am delighted at " the thought of becoming acquainted with * " so amiable a woman as you, &c." The letter was filled with expressions of the warmest regard. The lady arrived in Paris, and having got introduced to a set of people hostile to me and my establishment, she sud- denly changed her mind, alledging, among various groundless excuses, that her income would not enable her to place her daughter under my tuition, and she never even came to seethe woman whose letters, she declared, had completely won her heart. I have experi- enced so many similar instances of malevo- lence from various quarters, that I cannot help thinking society is now more depraved than ever. But happily I am occasionally rewarded by the approbation of the real lovers of the arts and education ; and by reflecting that the moral principles which I inculcate in the minds of my pupils, cannot fail to render them exem- plary women, whose conduct will reflect ho- MADAME CAMPAN. 223 nour on my old age. This is my greatest con- solation, next to that of possessing a son, the only surviving remnant of a family, whose situation at court, and the part which I was there required to act, have, in a great measure, caused, the numerous attacks with which I have been assailed during life. Court favour is oftener a misfortune than a blessing:, owing to the envy which it constantly excites. Make no mention of these disclosures and complaints, which must be kept secret, if we would not add to the triumph of the wicked, and even promote their success. But it is gratifying to unbosom one's feelings to a beloved son, and thus to ease the burden that oppresses one's heart. M. Dubreuil also administers consola- tion to me ; his pure philosophy enables me to bear up against the many vexations to which I have been exposed since the return of the priests and emigrants ; for within the last eight or ten months I have been assailed with un- usual severity. The party spirit at present % prevailing is sufficiently manifest, from a re- 224 LETTERS OF cent article in a journal, written by an ecclesi- astic* It is there observed, witb all priestly charity, that the restoration of the nunnery of Saint-Thomas, at Saint-Germain, will doubt- less do away with those fashionable, shewy and impure establishments, in which all the mo- rality of education is derived from romances. How lam$4itable it is to see party spirit thus pervert the understanding, and undermine every principle of justice ! I was first perse- secuted by the philosophers, whose opinions bordered on atheism, for having in my esta- blishment respected religious opinions, and maintained the observance of pious worship, divested of monastic superstition ; and I have since been tormented and calumniated by in- tollerant bigots, who in the name of a God of peace, would consign to damnation all who do not profess the Catholic faith. The medium between these violent opinions and sentiments is certainly the course which true virtue and prudence suggest. But there is no satisfying people who are controled by furious passions. MADAME CAMPAN. 225 One must be content to endure their hostility on all hands. I would not enter into these de- tails, my dear Henry, but because they may enable you to form some just ideas respecting the world on which you are now about to enter. 14th Brumaire, Year XL MY DEAR HENRY, I will communicate to you all the reflec- tions which have at different times occurred to me on the subject of conscience. It is a matter which demands deep consideration ; and I shall be glad if my ideas respecting it correspond with those which you have your- self formed. Conscience is one of the most extraordinary circumstances of our moral existence ; and 226 LETTERS OF the attentive consideration of it, is alone suf- ficient to check impiety. It is a divine senti- ment, which always acts in a way distinct and separate from our passions : it cannot subdue them unaided by reason, but it never fails to appeal to man, even at the moment when he is influenced by the delirium of passion. The old Catholics, who borrowed from other reli- gions the idea of personifying the virtues and vices, represented conscience and the passions as a good and a bad angel, always opposed to each other, with respect to human actions, though the operations of both are equally felt by man. There cannot be a more correct image. A writer of fairy tales has described a young prince, whose guardian genius presented him with a ring, enclosing conscience, which stung him whenever he was about to commit a bad action. The pious moralist contents himself with exhorting us to listen to the voice of conscience : thus we say, conscience speaks, and the expression is perfectly correct. What must be the power of that inward voice^ MADAME CAMPAN. 227 when it is heard by the murderer, about to im- brue his hands in the blood of his fellow crea- ture ; or, when it appeals to the profligate, who, with the help of a few pieces of ivory, would sacrifice his own and his wife's fortune, and de- prive himself of the means of educating and maintaining his young family ! Conscience ne- ver leaves the guilty at rest, though their crimes be unknown to all, save themselves. It banishes sleep from the down pillow of the tyrant ; and not even the stillness of his curtained couch and carpeted chamber, can lull him to repose. Tranquillity of conscience eases the anguish of the man unjustly accused, and gives him fortitude to bear unmerited punish- ment. Hypocrites fancy they quiet their con- science by a temporary confession of their sins ; but the minister of God vainly grants them absolution, if they be not resolutely de- termined in future to avoid the snares of vice. Their real conscience cannot surely be at ease. The truly good and devout look for the reward of their purity of conscience, in another and a 228 LETTERS OF better world. The timid see the punishment of an evil conscience in the torments of hell, and this terror has probably a salutary effect on many. The truly honest man is not in- fluenced either by the opinions of the world, or by the hope of future reward, but by the consciousness that he is acting right. This feeling regulates his whole conduct, and if he scrupulously obey the dictates of his con- science, he will certainly be happy. This, my dear son, is all I have to say to you on the sub- ject of conscience. I doubt not, my dear Henry, that while you have been slumbering on your pillow, the voice of conscience has sometimes addressed you thus : Come, my boy, it is time to rise. The chief clerk is already at his desk ; he will remark your indolence ; and remember, it is only by dint of activity and attention that you can gain esteem. Your fortune depends on diligence. Think on your mother, and on the happiness which your good conduct will afford her. If you do not actively exert yourself, you will have MADAME CAMPAtf. 229 the misfortune to see your parent doomed to labour at that advanced age when she would require repose Is not this what con- science has whispered to you ? You see, rny dear, I have considered the subject in every point of view. As to the sentiment by which conscience is excited, it must be ranked among those feelings which are ever present in the mind, though we are unable to account for them, and which have a useful influence on our happiness, if they serve to check our pre- sumption and arrogance. Man is the only being who possesses a perfect knowledge of right and wrong ; and this consciousness he doubtless owes to the superior organization with which his Maker has endowed him. But I have given you enough of morality. This letter might have been made the ve- hicle of many metaphysical ideas ; but I have replied to you with the plainness of a woman who has no pretension to philosophy. I will now tell you about the fine picture which has recently been painted by the 230 LETTERS OF younger Guerin. Proposals were made for purchasing it, to send abroad ; but it ap- pears that our government will not suffer it to go out of France. It is, indeed, a pic- ture which reflects credit on the French school, and is truly extraordinary, as the pro- duction of so young an artist. The day be- fore yesterday, Madame Louis kindly sent her carraige and four to take me and some of my pupils to see this admirable picture. We afterwards dined with her, and at seven in the evening I was home again, and seated on the sofa in my closet, resting, after the fatigues of the day. I will give you a description of Guerin's picture, endeavouring to convey to you an idea of the impression it produced on me. The composition is chaste and simple, the colouring true to nature, the draperies rich and elegant. A light grey back-ground represents the walls of the chamber of the palace in which the scene is supposed to take place. On the right are three columns, partly shaded by grey drapery, suspended I - MADAME CAMPAN. 231 from the one to the other ; and in front of this drapery is a superb couch, on which Theseus and Phaedra are seated. Theseus is looking steadfastly at Hippolitus, against whom the accusation has just been made, and who occupies the left of the picture. The head of Theseus is powerfully expressive of indignation, mingled with the grief natural to a father on discovering the guilt of his son . His right hand, which is strongly pressed upon his knee, indicates, by the powerful working of the muscles, the painful feelings which agitate his mind. His left arm is thrown round the neck of his guilty wife, and the hand, gently resting on the shoul- der of Phaedra, seems to denote the pro- tection which he affords to the adultress. Phaedra, pale and languid, and her eyes swoln with weeping, has just delivered the accu- sation. She holds in one of her thin, but not withered hands, the sword of Hippolitus, which seems to start out of the picture. Her constrained attitude attests her com- 232 LETTERS OF punction of conscience, and the attentive spectator plainly perceives that she feels herself unworthy to sit beside a husband whom she has so basely dishonoured. Her agitation is observed by the detestable CEnone, who, kneeling beside the couch, closes the picture on the right. This figure, which seems a personification of vice, has her eyes fixed on the queen, on whom she glances a look of encouragement, at the same time pressing her finger to her lip in token of silence. The countenance of Phaedra presents traces of former beauty. Her dress, and her braided hair, which have been arranged by the hands of her women, form a striking contrast with the evident agitation of her mind. It is easy to perceive that she feels no interest in these outward decorations, and the spectator may almost fancy he hears her say : " Q.ue cts vains ornemens, que ces violes me pesent ! " Quelle importune main, en foimant tous ces noeuds, " A pris fcoin sur mon front d'assembler rnes chevetix ?" MADAME CAMPAN. 233 The opposite side of the picture is occu- pied solely by Hippolitus: and here every thing is expressive of innocence, tranquillity and purity of mind. The youth who is stand- ing before his father, is represented with the beauty of the Apollo Belvedere. It is not exactly an ideal figure, though it is such a one as is never seen in nature. His dress consists of a superb lion's skin. He is rest- ing on his bow, and holding the leash of two beautiful grey-hounds, which form an elegant group ; one lies sleeping at his feet, like an emblem of tranquillity and innocence. The blush which suifuses the countenance of Hip- politus, as well as the expression of his fea- tures, are powerfully expressive of the shame he feels for the crime of his step-mother, and the mingled feelings of contempt and respect which compel him to remain silent. He seems to say : " Approuvez le respect qui me fertile la bouche." '234 LETTERS OF I forgot to mention, that between the figure of Hippolitus, which; from its interest and completeness, occupies one half the picture, there is a small antique table, on which arc placed the helmet and sword of Theseus. This part of the picture is exquisitely finished. The drapery of Theseus is scarlet, trimmed with gold ; that of Phaedra is a robe of fine linen, and a mantle of a yellowish grey colour, resembling in texture the beautiful Vigonia shawls, which are at present so much worn by the ladies in Paris. Having once seen this picture, one sees it for ever, and in giving you this description of it, I have merely traced out objects which are still visibly pre- sent to me. Since it has been exhibited, the saloon has been crowded beyond all concep- tion. The works of the old masters are not looked at. Not a glance is bestowed even on Duguet's picture, which is a production of such superior merit, and which is now ren- dered additionally interesting by the portrait of the painter being hung next it, crowned MADAME CAMPAN 235 with laurel by our young artists. The most laughable remarks are made upon Guerin's picture, by persons who are attracted to the saloon, merely because others go. A few days since, a man, examining the figure of Hippolitus, said : " I see nothing so won- derful in this ; it is not at all like Saint-Phal." Truly it is not; and this dissimilitude must embarrass the actor, even more than it sur- prised the connoisseur ; for Phaedra is acted every evening. 9th Ventose, Year XL MY DEAR HENRY, You inform me that your attention to busi- ness has called forth approbation. This at once reconciles me to you ; for I know I may implicitly rely on your sincerity. 23G LETTERS OF Let me but hear from the mouth of M * * * these gratifying words ; " I am satisfied with Henry ; he will do well." The music of Esther, which all Paris has compared to the harmony of the celestial spheres, was never listened to with more rapturous delight than this assur- ance will convey to your poor mother. Think on my past misfortunes, and on my truly unhappy marriage. Do not, I conjure you, deprive me of the consolation which I am en- titled to expect from you, and which alone can soothe my heart. Let me have to say I am the mother of an honest and respected man, and I shall die happy. I was displeased with you ; but I am reconciled. Write to me and tell me every thing. I will send you a long letter to-morrow. MADAME CAMPAN, 237 7th Floreal, Year XIII. Now for your dissertation. Endeavour to procure a work which was the subject of much discussion about thirty years ago. It is the production of a woman of considerable talent, and of a singular turn of mind, who was con- nected with Bertin ; the Chevalier must there- fore have known her. The work is entitled Doubts on received Opinions. The time-ser- vers of the day joined in crying down this feminine production. I dare say the edition, which was published in a small form, is now out of print ; for every body was anxious to procure a copy of it. The work concludes with a very well drawn parallel between public and private education ; and the authoress is decidedly favourable to the former. I was very much startled on reading it ; for I then thought that private education was the pre- 238 LETTERS OF ferablc plan, and I found my opinions ably re- futed. Read what La Harpe says respecting the tutors of Fabre d'Eglantine. Though he treats the question of education only with respect to the mistaken system of Rousseau, and the su- perficial ideas of society in general, yet he makes some good observations on the subject of colleges, and the salutary effect of public education. Read also Marmontel's volume re- lating to his college ; but I particularly re com- mend to you the work which I first mentioned. The power of education is to be your war horse, and you must make it pace about in every direction. It consists in the necessity, the habit of overcoming difficulties, which forms the character and ensures the acquisition of information. This habit stimulates the mind to solitary exertion, to reflection, and to perseverance ; and it inspires that emulation* devoid of jealousy, which animates the youth- ful heart with the desire of triumphing by real merit. It shews the impossibility of obtain- MADAM CAMPAN. ing success by artifice, or by any other means than labour. It discovers to us our own weakness and the superiority of others, and thus enables us to form a just estimate of our own value. It serves to humble pride, without stifling ambition ; and excites those self-ex- ertions on bases simply traced out, by which alone character can be formed, and which are the sole source of true talent and genius. We can obtain no real success except by our own individual efforts. It is this spirit of self-ex- ertion which confers the stamp of merit on all human productions. All that is done under the immediate guid- ance of a master, must unavoidably bear traces of feebleness, which can never be con- cealed. The work may be highly polished and exquisitely finished ; but it cannot be animated by the light of genius, and it will consequently be tame and cold. The difference between works so produced and those that are invigor- ated by solitary exertion, is similar to that which exists between hot-house fruits and 240 LETTERS OF fruits of natural growth. They may also be compared to the artificial gems so ingeni- ously produced in the laboratory of the chemist: they present not the brilliancy of the diamond? which is formed in the bosom of the earth without the aid of human art. If nature offers these comparisons, all that is connected with art serves but to demonstrate, still more evi- dently, that man must be formed by himself alone, guided by proper rules, and excited by the wish and the desire to succeed ; but not constantly followed and supported by a protecting hand. The well instructed actor, who correctly seizes the various intonations dictated by his master, may enjoy temporary success ; but it is only by his own personal labour that he can rise to the first rank of men of talent. It is not repeating the parts of Agamemnon and Pyrrhus, even after Le Kain himself, that will render him a great tragedian ; he must care- fully read Homer, ^Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripedes ; he must study human passions, MADAME CAMPAN. 241 and calculate the effects to be produced by his various gestures and modulations of voice. A painter, after learning tbe first principles of design, and studying the form of the human figure, is indebted to his own studies for ex- cellence in composition, style and colouring. Labour, excited by emulation, is in all cases superior to the best lessons that can be received from masters. The spirit of emulation which exists in public schools ; the day of triumph that is annually celebrated ; the prizes which are dis- tributed as the honourable rewards of merit; the tears of joy shed by a fond mother ; all these things are remembered with pleasure by the man in after life. Is there any thing in pri- vate education to balance their advantages ? If private education be conducted on a rigid plan, it becomes tyrannical; for it is not assisted by the punishment so sensibly felt on ac- count of its publicity, or by that tacit chastise- ment arising out of the privation of reward, which is attended by real mortification, unac- R 242 LETTERS OF companied by any degrading feelings. The private tutor is compelled to resort to incessant reproof, and to accumulate the privation of little pleasures connected with the common habits of life and the recreations of society. Understanding, judgment and genius, all must suffer by this plan. There is nothing great either in the reward or punishment. A youth educated in the bosom of his own family, gifted with natural endowments, and consigned to the care of an intelligent tutor, may cer- tainly make considerable progress in educa- tion ; but the praises bestowed on him, will, to a certainty, exceed his merits. Counting on a superiority, of which he cannot competently judge, because he has not had the opportunity of measuring himself with others, and spoiled by extravagant fondness and flattery, he will enter upon the world with unbecoming confi- dence and assurance ; and he will have to do in society what he should have done in the progress of his education, namely, to serve an apprenticeship to the superiority of others. MADAME CAMPAN. 243 Who were the tutors of the illustrious men whose talents reflect honour on France ? Who formed Corneille, Racine, Boileau, Voltaire, Buffon, &c. They were educated in colleges. Public education is most favourable to health, to moral principle, and to the acquirement of those useful habits which ensure fortune and prosperity: in short, it combines every ad- vantage in forming the character of a young man. His limbs are invigorated by athletic games, he learns to be temperate, and he re- lishes a simple meal with an appetite prepared by exercise and regularity. He serves him- self, and therefore is not, in youth, the slave of those artificial wants which swallow up fortunes, and create a thousand ideas deroga- tory from the true dignity of man. It is in the halls of colleges, amidst wooden tables and benches, that pure friendship has raised her altar ; and where she rivets those sacred com- pacts which constitute the charm of existence, by soothing our sorrows and augmenting our enjoyments. Hence arise those sentiments R 2 244 LETTERS OF which are founded on the perfect intimacy of simple and sincere hearts, and which survive every vicissitude of fortune. Two boys, who are seated on the same form at school, com- posing their themes ; who assist and advise without injuring or imitating each other ; who are mutually gratified by the rewards, and mortified by the reproofs they receive ; these boys, will, in course of time, enter together upon the world. The one is perhaps favoured by fortune, and endowed with rank and power, but still his friend is his first thought. The other may be the son of poor parents; but the distance which the laws of society seems to establish between them, vanishes on the re- collection of their school-boy intimacy. With- out losing the title of friends, the one becomes the generous patron, and the other the faithful and grateful protege ; and their respective situa- tions are still more favourable to mutual friend- ship, assistance and service. Feelings of this kind engraven on youthful hearts, at a period when pains and pleasures were shared in MADAME CAMPAN. 245 common with each other, generally endure through life. The young man, who from his childhood is surrounded by the seduction and artificial forms of society, can never enjoy the happiness of knowing and choosing a real friend. Friday, 2d Prairial, Year XI. During the last three days, my dear Henry, I have five or six times sat down to write the letter which I am now about to send to you ; but I have had so many visitors, and at such early hours, that I have been continually interrupted. I must tell you about Esther, which the journals are so full of at present. The piece has been performed with the most decided success, in spite of the censure which was poured upon it by the critics, when after the death of Madame de Maintenon, who had 246 LETTERS OF forbidden its representation, the Regent or- dered it to be acted at the Theatre Francais. On Sunday, Esther is to be performed with great splendour at Saint-Cloud, before the First Consul. With regard to the acting, I must tell you, that Adile's performance was infi- nitely the best during the first act ; that the joy she evinced on again beholding Elise, and her graceful manner of deliveriug the prayer, were vastly superior to the continued whining of Mademoiselle Duchenois, who carried the defect so far as even to weep while she ex- plained : " O jour trois fois heureuoc /" Was it necessary that Racine should have written, Ojour six fois heureux! to make her feel that the arrival of Elise, in the palace of Ahasuerus, was a moment of rapturous joy to Esther ; pro- bably the only happiness she had enjoyed since she herself entered it ! The sublime Racine has contrived a most happy contrast, by making the imposing scene of Mordecai immediately precede tlie happy meeting of the two young friends ; and the actress should at least have MADAME CAMPAN. 247 seized the idea of the writer, who is so per- fectly master of the art of painting opposite sentiments. After this criticism on the first act, I must tell you, that the performance of Mademoiselle Duchenois, in the second, and particularly in the third act, was most astonishing, and that she left the young pupil at an unmeasurable distance behind her. As to her perpetual weeping, she has acquired that habit through an unfortunate tradition of the Theatre Francais, where the lachrymose style of Mademoiselle Sainval, the younger, has been transmitted to her successors. Be- fore the time of Mademoiselle Sainval, who was a favourite with the public, our actresses did not certainly laugh in tragedy, but they certainly did not weep at every line, and in moments of dignity and courage, they never suffered tears to flow. Lafon made the most of the part of Haman, in spite of its defects, and the odious catastrophe with which it con- cludes. It is, however, better designed than the irresolute character of Ahasuerus, which 248 LETTERS OF Talma played well, excepting a certain want of tenderness in the love scenes with Esther. The chorusses were less effectively performed than in my establishment. The voices and dresses of the singers seemed to be alike worn out. The young maidens of Sidon, in odalis- ques of violet colour, blue, &c. had a very bad effect. Uniformity of dress seems to be naturally prescribed for the young Israelite virgins assembled in the presence of Esther ; and the rule observed at Saint Cyr, may be regarded as authority for this idea. It is said that they will all be dressed in blue, at Saint- Cloud. I hope I shall have an invitation ; it seems but just that I should. The per- formance of Esther is to be continued at the Theatre Francais, and the intention of acting it in my establishment, is favourable to that theatre, and to Madame Vestris. ThePubliciste has again attacked my representation ; but its animadversions are contemptible, and not dangerous, when it says : " This new fashion of acting plays in boarding-schools must be MADAME CAMPAN. 249 opposed". Let it be remembered, that Esther was written one hundred and ten years ago, for this very purpose, and that it was always acted at the Theatre of Saint-Cyr, where it has also been performed since that time. I shall reply to these sarcasms, by having the piece represented in my establishment next winter. Dec. 16, 1806. MY DEAR SON, You must surely suffer an interval of more than four days to elapse between your letters. I have received none dated December, and this is the 16th of the month. A bulletin from the army is now looked for as impatiently as a drop of rain in the scorching heat of summer. Every one expects to find in it the 250 ^LETTERS OF decree of his own fate, and that of Europe. But our distance from the scene of hostilities necessarily retards communication. I have been reading several works relating to Poland, a country which cannot but excite interest at the present moment. Indeed, every nation in Europe successively demands attention ; and since the victories that have been gained by our immortal Emperor, I have materially added to my information respecting the coun- tries in which his triumphs have been gained. I would advise you to read books which treat of the conquered countries, which are now about to undergo changes, or to be completely regenerated. The first partition of Poland took place in 1775 ; and this circumstance was unknown to the Cabinet of Versailles, through the neglect of the French Ministers in foreign courts. Cardinal de Rohan was at that time ambassador from France to Vienna, and the partition of Poland was concealed from him, a circumstance which did not certainly reflect much credit on his diplomatic talents. Other MADAME CAMPAN. 251 ministers, however, must have known what was going on ; but it is probable that Louis XV., conscious of the weakness of France at that period, and controlled by his aversion for war, pretended to be ignorant of the partition. At all events it was not acknowledged by the French court. Before that period Poland was bounded on the east by Russia, on the south by Turkey, on the west by Germany, and on the north by the Baltic. The climate is cold, but the soil is singularly fertile ; producing such an abundance of corn, that between twelve and fifteen millions of bushels are an- nually exported. The pastures are excellent, particularly in Podolia ; and the grass is so extremely high, that the cattle cannot be seen grazing. The country is flat, and contains many forests of fir, oak and beech trees. Po- land produces great quantities of wax, and con- sequently the honey is in an equal proportion. The horses are handsome and swift. The elk is not uncommon in the Ukraine ; it is a horned animal, having the feet, skin, and 252 LETTERS OF hoofs of a stag, and the ears of an ass It must be an ugly creature. If you should go there, I shall not expect you to take the trouble of bringing me one home. Your uncle visited the salt-mines of Wielitska, which are eight miles from Cracow. They may be ranked among the curiosities of the country, as well as the sources of its wealth. It requires some courage to descend into them, for the mouths of the mines are perpendicular pits of great depth, and they are entered by means of a sort of seat attached to a cord, which passes over a pully, like the bucket of a well. The galleries are of prodigious size, and are supported at different intervals by beams of wood, but more frequently by pillars of salt, whose surface reflects the flames of the torches, the only light used in these drear abodes. Houses, and even a church, have been cut out of the salt. These mines annually pro- duce a sum equivalent to 2,400,000 francs. The salt is of the same nature as that found on the sea of Marmora. MADAME CAMPAN. 2.53 The Sarmatians, or Sclavonians, were the first inhabitants of Poland. The authentic history of the Poles reaches no farther back than 842, the era of Charlemagne. Their first known king was named Piast. Their first queen is said to have been a Dombrowska, so that the general who now commands in Po- land, has reason to be proud of his name. The introduction of Christianity in Poland could not have been earlier than 992, or near the year 1000. The family of the Jagellons, Dukes of Li- thuania, ascended the throne in 1384, and kept possession of it by hereditary succession till 1572. Two years after, the throne be- came elective in favour of Henry III., son of Henry II., and of Catherine of Medicis, whose great renown, as well as the advantage of his connexion with the houses of France and Valois, procured him that honour. Voltaire, however, says of this prince, on the occasion of his quitting Poland to succeed to the throne 254 LETTERS OF of France., on the death, of his brother, Charles IX.:- " Ce n'etait plus ce Prince environne de gloirc, Aux combats des 1'enfance instruit par la victoire, Dont 1' Europe, en tremhlant, regandait les progres, Et qui de sa patrie emporta les regrets, Quand du Nord etonn6 de ses vertus supremes, Les peuples a ses pieds mettaient les diademes, Tel biille au second rang qui s'clipse au premier, Et devient lache roi d'intr^pide guerrier." The crown which was thus given, for the first time by election, to Henry of Valois, Duke of Anjou, brother of King Charles IX., and who afterwards became Henry III., and was assassinated at Saint-Cloud, remained elective. In 1683, JohnSobieski compelled the Turks to raise the siege of Vienna, and this, says the author of the analysis which I have read, was the last effort of Polish valour. Thus, a hundred and twenty- three years after that event they will perhaps be roused from their slumber by our great warrior : but as the dis- MADAME CAMPAN. '255 positions of nations are only lulled or awakened by the tyranny, weakness, or power of their governments ; and as our imposing revolution revived in us all the qualities ascribed by Caesar to the Gauls, the people of Poland, if their movement be sincere, may become excellent warriors. It may be remarked to their ho- nour, that they have always conducted them- selves very creditably, whenever they have sought to gather laurels under foreign ban- ners. Poland, which, after the crown became elec- tive, was always enfeebled by internal con- tentions, was dismembered in 1773, in the reign of Louis XV. by Russia, Austria, and Prussia. This first partition was followed in 1795 by a second, which deprived the King of his political existence. Previous to its dissolution, the government of Poland was half monarchical and half republican ; and each election of the King was a source of intrigue, and frequently of civil war. Poland contains a great number of towns, 256* LETTERS OF which are, for the most part, very ill-built. The population before 1773 amounted to eight millions five hundred thousand inhabitants, of whom sixty thousand were Jews. The inhabitants were divided into three classes, the nobility, the citizens, and the peasantry. The latter were almost all the serfs of the nobility. The Polish nobles enjoyed great privileges. They possessed the right of life and death over their serfs. The nobility alone were allowed to hold lands ; they alone voted for the election of the King, who was obliged to take the opi- nion of the states for peace or war, and for the levying of taxes. The general assemblies were called Diets. The votes were required to be unanimous, and the magnats, or gran- dees of the empire, a title derived, as you will immediately perceive, from the Latin, ?uagnus, had the power of throwing in a veto, which, though proceeding but from a single person, put a stop to the results of the deliberations of the Diets ; and the indi- MADAME CAM FAN. 257 vidual who had pronounced the veto, in order to escape the risk of being bribed, threatened or seduced, would throw himself across one of the best horses in his stables, and gallop away from Warsaw as hard as he could ride. What a constitution ! Surely this is not to be re- stored ! Yet it met with some very warm partizans in 1793 and 1794, when the Poles wished to adopt a new one. You know that Charles XII., King of Sweden, succeeded in placing on the throne Stanislas Leckzinski, the father of the consort of Louis XV. ; but he was dethroned shortly after- wards, and Augustus, of Saxony, took his place. The dauphin, son of Louis XV., and Maria Leckzinski, married the daughter of the Elector of Saxony, who had dethroned the Queen's father. Maria Leckzinski, not- withstanding her great and sincere piety, never liked her daughter-in-law, who afterwards be- came the mother of Louis XVI.; and the grand- father of that unfortunate prince, once heard her make the following reply to a person who 258 LETTERS OF solicited some prerogative for the Saxon mi- nister at the court : " You would, perhaps, wish me to receive him as a family ambassa- dor, but I would have you know, that he will always be regarded in a directly opposite light by me. The resignation made at the foot of the Almighty's throne, does not extend to the thrones of this world below." At length, when Augustus died, Russia pro- tected the last Sovereign, Poniatowski, with whom the elective kingdom terminated. This prince, who was a good-humoured man, fond of ease and enjoyment, formerly resided at Paris, in the quality of a Polish gentleman ; and from all that I have heard related of him, he must have been much such another man as Count Bielinski. The house of Madame Geoffrin, and her suppers, though far from splendid, were at that time the rendezvous of all the academicians and foreigners. That lady, who has attached her name to the age of Vol- taire, was the wife of a looking-glass manu- facturer, and possessed no other attractions MADAME CAM PAN. 259 than her fortune,, and her taste for philosophers and scientific men. Poniatowski having spent his money rather too freely, either at play or among the opera singers, his creditors threw him into the Fort /' Eveque, a prison for debt. Madame Geoffrin, as soon as she was in- formed of this circumstance, paid the Polish gentleman's debts, and released him. Ponia- towski was so grateful for this act of kindness, that when he ascended the throne, he in- vited her to come to Warsaw, and received her like a mother. It is said that he even carried his attentions so far as to have her apartment fitted up in a similar manner to that which she inhabited at Paris. Count Kasowski, the father of our young pupils, was treasurer-general of the crown, and he married Mademoiselle Bielinski, who was related to the King. Poniatowski remained in this precarious and uncertain situation from 1793 until the dismemberment of his states in 1795. About this time your uncle, being one day tired of singing and playing to him all s 2 260 LETTERS OF the airs of our comic operas, took it into his head to put a stop to the King's desire for music, by singing that song in the opera of Theodore, beginning " sil nest pas Hoi, pourquoi Vappeler Roi ?" No man who had passed his twenty-third year, would ever have hit upon such a plan for abridging the con- cert. The King seemed to take it amiss. He asked where that rhapsody was taken from, but Genest got out of the scrape by telling him that it was taken from Theodore d Ve- riise, an opera very much in vogue at the court of Versailles. I have just received a letter from M. D**^, who congratulates me on your appointment, and tells me that he is sure, from his know- ledge of you, that you will acquit yourself with honour ; these are his very words. His letter is dated Posen, the 3d December ; and from my son I have not yet received any com- munication bearing the date of December ! This circumstance adds to my grief. The O*** are very much gratified by the MADAME CAMPAN. 261 interest which you feel in their son ; perhaps he may have gone to meet you at Berlin. I hope my repetitions of all these old stories about Poland may afford you some amuse- ment. Oh ! you are a sad fellow ; are you ill? or are you only lazy? You cannot, surely, be indifferent ? 25th Feb. 1807. M. A*** has assured me, my dear son, that rny letters should go to you by the same courier as those forM. E****^, and I have to reproach myself with having neglected this precaution, notwithstanding your recommenda- tion. You must not, however, be without a letter from me. To write to you is my only consolation. A young man of your age, ad- vancing steadily towards the acquirement of a 262 LETTERS OF distinguished reputation, is a very dear object to the heart of a mother, whose perfect hap- piness, or misery in the decline of life, depends solely on the conduct of her son. Continue to cultivate your talents ; labour to perform the duty allotted to you, and by the exercise of reason, divest your mind of all the mistaken notions of youthful inexperience. For exam- ple, you cannot but perceive that economy is the foundation of all fortune and prosperity, from the quiet and frugal cottage, where a clean bed, a full cupboard, and a cellar well stored with home-made wine or cider, contribute to the health and the enjoyment of the family, up to the very throne, where the submission of the subject, the prosperity of the country, and the stability of the crown, are the fruits of order, and of an exchequer surpassing the debt of the state. This, then, to a person of enlightened ambition, is the foundation stone on which he must build his labours and his success. Re- flect maturely on this subject. The priva- tions to which we subject ourselves, having MADAME CAMPAN. 263 become a duty, resulting from calculation and reasoning, instead of incommoding us, afford, on the contrary, a source of satisfaction. But it is not only necessary to regulate our wishes, we must also practice economy and order ; and this is only to be done by the habit of calculation, and a knowledge of the respect- ive value of money and provisions, or objects of the first necessity. Though you have not attended to these subjects at your outset in the world, from relying too much on the profits of my establishment, yet, when that resource is removed, and you feel the full extent of my affection, you will learn to economise both from love to me and from a consideration of your future welfare. You must establish your family on a solid basis. Your great grandfather, who made his own fortune, left 300,000 livres in money, and 40,000 livres in plate and furniture behind him, at his death ; your grandfather gained immense sums in financial transactions, and in the offices which he filled, but he squan- 264 LETTERS OF dered away his fortune in foolish speculations and extravagant whims ; your father acquired nothing, and spent 300,000 livres, bequeath- ing me a melancholy cypher to encrease my anxiety and affection for you. I have disen- gaged, but not entirely withdrawn you, from this situation; you must assist me, as a reason- able husband would, arid it will be all for your own good. ********** It appears, by yesterday's bulletin, that Marshal Ney displayed his skill and bravery in the affair of the 9th. But what dreadful wea- ther ! I felt that horrid snow falling on me yesterday as I read the bulletin. Happily the Almighty watches over our Emperor and our brave soldiers. God protects subjects as well as kings ; he exalts and humbles nations at his will ; and I believe in my heart that he has not looked favourably upon all theplans which tend- ed towards the annihilation of our dear country, how r ever specious the pretexts of crowned heads may have been. During fifteen years all their attempts were confounded, reckoning MADAME CAM PAN. 265 from the period when foreign powers, under the pretence of succouring an unfortunate king, delivered him up to the fury of his revolted subjects, and divided among them- selves, in anticipation, the finest part of his inheritance, to that moment when, appearing to he all allied against the principle of the independance of nations a doctrine which, being adopted by the majority, spread with great rapidity, and was about to fill Europe with republics. The kings, however, one after the other, betrayed the powerful individual who replaced every thing on the ancient system of social order, and established the security of their crowns. He afterwards overturned them, but it was by force of arms, and from the ne- cessity to which they drove him of opposing their bad faith. God will therefore continue to protect us in this great struggle, as he has hitherto done ; and the moment of peace will be the era of general happiness. I am at this moment reading Bossuet's Discourse on Uni- versal History, and I am full of its sentiments, 266 LETTERS OF as you must perceive ; for in that fine dis- course, the force, clearness and precision of which, impiety itself could not but commend ; the able writer connects all the memorable events of ages with the will of God, ennobling his subjects and the principal actors on the stage of the world, by that unbroken chain which moves armies, overturns thrones, sweeps away nations, and the last link of which is placed in Heaven. If this, in the language of philosophers, is nothing more than a beautiful illusion, it is at least better suited to the eleva- tion of great minds than their own sad realities. The weather here is as disagreeable as pos- sible. The wind is very high, and the rain pours in such torrents, that I am obliged to deprive myself of the pleasure of visiting St. Leger and my garden, and confine myself very involuntarily to my chamber, and to my bergere. The works at St. Leger are com- pleted ; it will be a charming place. I have indulged myself in the whim of having a par- quet-floor, but I will dispense with useless MADAME CAMPAN. 267 alterations, if I find it inconvenient to pay for them, and the sum I have already spent will merely pass from one object to another. St. Leger has increased in value from five to six thousand francs, in consequence of what I have done, otherwise I should never have meddled with it. The place, in its present state, may be let at 1200 livres. though before, it could not have let at more than 800. When properly furnished, it may let at 1500 livres, and maybe valued at 24,000 livres ; while my farm may be estimated at 40,000 livres. Here then are 60,000 livres; and this is the whole of our fortune. It is very little, very little indeed ; yet we must respect it as the mite which may preserve my son and me from the dreadful calamity of of wanting the means of subsistence. 268 LETTERS OF 24th May, 1809. My dear son, I wrote to you yesterday, and I now write to you again to-day. I entertain for you a constant feeling of ten- derness and love which never leaves me. But I am sometimes troubled with moments of anxiety and sadness, which prevent me even from sleeping. You have taken up yqur lodg- ings on the banks of a lake ! At first I was only alarmed on account of your teeth ; but now I am seized with the idea of your falling into a fever. The banks of the most rapid river often produce this effect, and those of a lake must be still more unwholesome. I was tormented with this idea the whole night; my dreams were full of it, and I am still in a state of anxiety on the subject. I cannot think of the poor Queen's affliction without feeling alarmed on your account. There are two most criti- MADAME CAMPAN. 269 cal points in the life of a beloved son, first, that period of infancy when the daily development of some amiable quality encourages the anticipa- tion of properties, perhaps of a higher and more elevated character than those allotted to the beloved object ; secondly, when an only son, a son like yourself, tenderly loved, has already attained testimonials of his good qualities and proper conduct, and when he is already in possession of honourable appoint- ments. These are the two periods at which, if a mother should have the misfortune to lose her son, she has nothing left but to die herself; and the last supposition is, doubtless, the most heart-rending of the two. There is a period when youth, scarce yet removed from infancy, indulges in unreasonable desires, and gives rise to an uncertainty respecting the character and fate of a child which may serve as a ground for some consolation. He may perhaps have erred, his parent may perhaps have had cause to blush, and himself to grieve for his misconduct. But when a son has already 270 LETTERS OF advanced with a firm step, when he has deli- herated on the acquirement of esteem and honour, and when he knows and pursues the road which leads to them, when his mother's ear has already been flattered with his praises, her tenderness is converted into a tran- sport of happiness and delight. The least circumstance then becomes an object of fear and anxiety, arid that lake is a dreadful source of alarm to me. There are fevers in Germany: there are some now raging in the army. Think of the short space that is left me to live with you in this world. Think of your mother, and ascertain whether the situation you have chosen is a healthful one. Enquire of the in- habitants what sort of summers they have, and whether they are not troubled with fevers or distempers. The inexperience of youth seeks only for solitary and romantic spots, while more experienced age first discovers whether the place is habitable. In eleven days you will learn my anxiety, in twenty-two I shall have your answer. In the mean time, MADAME CAMPAN. I invoke the protection of Heaven, from the very bottom of my heart ! You have of course read the speech of M. de Fontanes, on the reception of the remains of Frederick the Great. It met with the highest success. Adieu, my dear son ; remember that in yon my existence is prolonged ; that the thought of you carries me up to 1830, 1840, and thinking of ycrur children makes me look forward to 1852, 1900: remember, too, that the idea of our descendants teaches us to love posterity; to form more determined views for the happiness and glory of our country ; and to cherish virtuous and laud- able ambition ! If the sect of materialists who see nothing beyond their earthly remains, be highly reprehensible, not less so is the crowd of selfish bachelors who exclaim, rea- sonably enough, indeed, as far as regards themselves^ " with us the world is at an end !'' Their ambition must be sublime, if they direct it towards humanity in general, or else entirely personal, detestable and selfish, if 2/2 LETTERS OF they cherish it only for themselves. For my own part, if my son were no more, I should wish to end my existence with him, not pos- sessing any of those great resources which are available to men in a mass, nor any of those feelings by which they connect all around them with themselves. Oh ! the bank of that hor- rid lake quite frightens me out of my senses, you see. I send you an embrace, and I hope, when it reaches you, it will find you well. 26th August, 1807. The Queen's arrival is at length announced for this evening or to-morrow. It is to be hoped she will relieve me from the painful situation in which I have so long remained. The ###:* sa jcl h e would appoint rne, but he has appointed no one. They are hastening forward the works at Ecouen, and there is every rea- MADAME CAMPAN. 273 son to hope that my lot will soon be deter- mined. M. de Lac***** is a good and worthy man, and not without talent. What will he say of a woman who will unaffectedly devote the whole of her experience to the manage- ment of her establishment? The more he may have been misled by the false reports which have been made of me, the more pleased he will be to find that I do not deserve them. The Prince is celebrating his marriage. I am also anxious about the Queen's arrival, that I may have the opportunity of for warding your business. Councillors of State are now appoint- ed to organize the government. You must have patience a little longer ; but think, in the mean time, of how much you can do by yourself and for yourself. Reflect on the misery produced by a total want of fortune ; and let industry, regularity and economy form the bases of your future happiness, and that of your children ; may they, as well as yourself, be happier than your mother. She has made, as far as her sex would permit, every effort to put you for- T 274 LETTERS OF ward in the world. Learn to satisfy your na- tural judges, and do not forget that they are, and ought to be, prejudiced against the too rapid advancement of youth. It has been ever so. Among men in office, a young man must have passed his six or seven-and-twen- tieth year before he can acquire any considera- tion. People are as little satisfied with those who have passed their fiftieth year, and they consider both the former and the latter incapa- ble, unless where precocious talents are joined with modesty in the young, or where the old can boast of so brilliant and useful a career that their characters must silence all remarks upon their years. I have meditated more on the world than would be supposed, from the natural turn of my mind. It may be asked, why have you not succeeded better? Because I have always been placed in an equivocal situation, and held a rank inferior to the sort of celebrity which my education and the favour I have met with presented to my imagination. Nothing is more MADAME CAMPAN. 2/5 difficult than to make a brilliant station in life out of one that has no claim to eminence. If I had been born rich, and had been mar- ried to a man of high consideration in the world, my existence would never have been tormented but by natural events. If you ob- tain the approbation of your employers, you are in this happy situation, with the exception, indeed, of your want of fortune. This is the only evil. I see they have commenced an attack on the auditors. This is probably occasioned by jealousy rather than by any blame attached to them. They have not been sufficiently on their guard against the rivalry of place. Take care to come off with as little injury as possible, from this little contest. It gives me, however, great uneasiness. Write to me oftener. T 2 2/6 LETTERS OF 2d January, 1809. (O. S.) This is the second day of a new year, my dear son. Let us spend it well, that is to say, well employed. That is always gratifying. I assure . you I often say so to myself. Yet I am sometimes seized with little fits of idle- ness. Then I feel a pleasure in retiring to my closet and reclining on my bergere, with my little fire-screen in my hand. But all of a sudden, an inward monitor exclaims : " ex- amine your classes, you will find something to amend ; you can correct by word of mouth, which is the true mode of education ; and you ought to practice it; it is your duty. Youresta- blishinent is the only means of your existence, and that of your son ; come, get up, maintain your professional reputation ; that is the only way to overcome your enemies." I then rise, and proceed to the examination of my MADAME CAMPAN. 277 pupils. You see that we must exercise self- command at every age ; and yet may I not be said to have attained that at which a female, particularly, may expect a little repose ? Reason with yotirself in the same way ; recol- lect that though I have saved you from misery, I have not been able to make your fortune, which though I had laid its foundation during the old system, was undermined by your father, and sapped by the revolution, when I had passed my forty-second year. Tell me how you get on with your drawing. You ask me questions, and you do not tell me a syllable of what interests me most. I will now give you as good an account as I can of all that is going on here. I had a delightful concert last Thursday. Plantade and Bonezi displayed the perfection of vocal excellence. Mademoiselle Carceux is no longer a scholar, she is a great genius. Madame Laval also played on the harp at my house ; she performs on that instrument at least as wellasd'Alvinac, 278 LETTERS OF and is a good piano-forte player besides. She will enter my establishment in the month of July. This lady, when in London, earned an annual income of thirty thousand francs. This is a well-known fact ; but her husband not having any profession to support himself, they spent thirty-five thousand between them, which of course threw them into debt ; for living in London is extremely dear, and indeed, wherever economy and system are neglected, people are sure to exceed their income. She therefore prefers, for the future, to leave her husband to seek his own fortune, and to come and live with me. She is a brilliant acquisi- tion to my establishment. My concert was attended by the Princess Yabolowska, and her family, and several other persons of very high consideration among the old nobility. Every one was delighted with the entertain- ment. It is thus that I maintain my establish- ment, which otherwise would constantly suffer from the attacks of jealousy and slander ; but MADAME CAMPAN. 279 it is also by such means that I find my- self in arrears at the end of two years, with- out so much as fifty louis to lay by. This is hard to struggle against, but perhaps I shall derive benefit from it in the end. Unfortu- nately I am ten years too old. Esther., and La Rosiere are to be performed on the 12th and 13th February. We must not neglect to observe Lent this year, or we should incur the displeasure of the clergy, who are completely re-established. Adele will play the part of Esther better than she did last year. M. de Lally dined with us to-day. Madame Gamot, and her husband, Clemence, and M. Dubreuil, were also of the party. M. de Lally read to us, after dinner, an act of his tragedy of the Earl of Strafford. He recites amazingly well; and his piece is rendered highly interesting from the circumstance of its describing a great revolutionary crisis, such as we have just experienced. Strafford was the minister and friend of the unfortunate Charles 280 LETTERS OF I., and the revolutionists of the period, who were called round heads, or levellers, sent him to the scaffold before that unfortu- nate monarch. The principles of these con- spirators were absolutely the same as those of the jacobin sect. M. de Lally will be in Bor- deaux in the course of a fortnight. I told him his daughter had grown very stout,, but not to the extent ki which you have described her to me. I have been twice asked to supper at Mal- maison, in the course of this month. * * * * There was dancing. I took with me Adele, and two young girls, who are dependant on the First Consul. I do not introduce young wo- men, arrived at a marriageable age, into high life, though I have no doubt I shall be accused of doing so. However, the great point is to take care not to deserve reproach. MADAME CAMPAN. 281 Write me longer letters, and oftener. I am better pleased with your hand-writing. Avoid young people, and bad company ; let me know how you employ your time. Adieu, my dear Henry ; do not be idle. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. More than twenty years of my life, occupied solely in the education of youth, have led me to observe the diversity of a great number of characters, and to judge of the methods which most generally succeed in bringing up children well. My work will be destitute of the attraction of those fictions almost always united to plans of education ; and the quantity of details which I have to place under the eyes of my readers, gives me some uneasiness. I also fear allow- ing myself to be led away by my partiality for those innocent and graceful beings, an ami- able crowd of whom has surrounded me for so many years, and to whom I have owed so many delightful moments. Sometimes I fear that a certain tediousness, the first and melan- 286 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. choly infirmity of age, will lengthen my sub- ject, in spite of me ; but then I recollect that I dedicate my work to my former pupils, now become mothers of families; that in doing them homage of the fruits of a long experience, I speak to them of their dearest affections and I take courage. As mothers, as wives, and as sisters, wo- men have the greatest influence on the destiny of men. The worthies in the time of chivalry, made them the stimulus and aim of their high feats of arms; under absolute monarchies, their charms even extended their influence over the fate of empires, and too often the boudoir of a favourite became the council-chamber of kings. In a constitutional government, in which the wisdom of the sovereign, and the under- standings of his people, promulgate laws and cause them to be executed, the education of women should be directed to a useful and more praiseworthy object. The enlightened understanding of the present age deprives them of the advantage of governing by the sole THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 287 power of beauty ; a solid education must now render them capable of appreciating the talents and virtues of their husbands, of preserving their fortune by a wise economy, of partaking of their elevation without ridiculous ostenta- tion, of consoling them in disgrace, of bringing up their girls in all the virtues which ought to be inseparable from their sex, and directing the early years of their boys. Their names will figure less in history: and, for their hap- piness, they will supply still fewer subjects for romances! A sentiment truly national will lead them to regard their own homes as the only theatre of their glory, and public mo- rals will then soon shew the immense steps made by social order towards a better state of things. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. NATURE generally gives to a mother the desire and power of suckling her infant; but circum- stances may happen to preyent it. If her con- stitution be weak, if she have experienced the slightest attack of any cutaneous disease, she ought to fear having too little milk, or to apprehend communicating to her child the malady from which she has suffered. The station which her u 290 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. husband fills,, the levity of disposition which often accompanies the first years of a youthful mam- age, or even a too lively sensibility, may pre- vent her from entirely fulfilling the functions of maternity; she should, therefore, in all these cases, cease to pretend to it. Happy the discreet, free and healthy woman, who can accept and fulfil the duties which nature has imposed on her ! She will not have to divide with a stranger the first caresses of her infant; it is she alone whom he will call by the sweet name of mother, his first smile will be for her, and nature has made this first smile the sweetest reward of the sufferings and cares of maternity. In doing that which is right, more than one happy result follows. The young mother, who devotes herself to her infant, will inspire, when scarcely out of its childhood, a veneration which is not always granted in maturity. A mother who nurses, should renounce ftes and late hours, she should fly the town, and breathe the vivifying air of the country. She should be steady, seek new strength in daily ex- ercise, and repress the inequalities of her cha- racter; finally, she should take care of herself, THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 291 not only for herself alone, but for the infant who draws his life from her bosom. It is at present very rare to meet with women who, in charging themselves with the nursing of their children, are not aware of the importance of this sacred task; but when Emlle appeared, the new and precious ideas which this work brought to light, were adopted with as much ex- aggeration as fickleness; and it was fashion, ac- companied by all its follies, which caused females to return to the duties of nature; the use of cradles became general, the taste of artificers was exercised in ornamenting them ; it was an indis- pensable article in a boudoir, and I believe that some silly women had empty ones placed on the front of their carriages, to give themselves in the Bois de Boulogne the interesting air of young nurses. At this period, every female nursed her chil- dren ; it signified little whether they had milk or not ; they liked to nurse; it was their whim. By another caprice, they weaned at a wrong time, or neglected the nursery to go into the world. It is impossible to number the criminal follies which this maternal rage caused among the Parisians. u 2 292 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. During the hard winter of 1783, on coming from a ball, one of rny friends offered to conduct me home; it was four o'clock in the morning ; I en- tered the carriage precipitately, and was surprised at hearing the cries of an infant, and seeing, by the light of the flambeaux, a nurse asleep, with my friend's child upon her knees. I exclaimed, for the cold was at twelve degrees ; but to re-assure me, this tender mother shewed me wrappers, and a bowl of water, and told me that she had twice quitted the ball-room to suckle her infant. This little girl died of weakness, at five years of age. As soon as the nursling has attained his fourth month, he likes to be carried in the arms, to have change of place, and to be softly lulled on the knees. He suffers from dentition ; the open air soothes him ; repeated songs calm him ; and night, as well as day, he requires the same attentions. His mother cannot always pay them to him ; she cannot yet regulate the seasons of presenting the breast to him ; he demands it during the night. After satisfying him, she has need of sleep. The choice of a nurse requires great attention, many women are, however, to be found, accustomed to the service required by the child in the cradle. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 293 All peasant-women from their tendercst youth arc ascustomed to carry children. Nature has placed in our sex a touching at- traction towards the age of infancy. Women, young or old, never see an infant without feeling an emotion that men cannot know ; a nurse, therefore, can be found without much difficulty. But as soon as the child learns the names of the objects which strike his sight, as soon as the first ideas are united to the words successively imprinted in his memory, his education com- mences. The influence of first ideas cannot be calculated ; no habit contracted, no principle already established, effaces them ; they engrave themselves without obstacle, and for ever, in these new minds. The choice of a governess is therefore much more difficult than that of a nurse ; this choice is even one of the most im- portant things in education. A scrupulous at- tention is required in selecting a governess; we should be assured of the purity of her manners, of the extent of her knowledge, and of the superiority of her talents ; and it is right to do so ; but the governess ought to have to do with children whose age renders them already proper 294 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. to judge of her. Without having to fear any censure, a governess may engrave, at leisure, on the minds of children, the falsest and most fatal opinions. We have seen them, unknown to the parents, create a despotism in their chamber ; it is the aim of almost all. There they perhaps ill-use the child, who is petted in the saloon ; there truth and falsehood may be at their entire disposal. If a careless or dissipated mother has once believed the false report of the governess, and the child has been unjustly punished in con- sequence of the bad character of her who go- verns it, the chamber of the instructress becomes a kind of mansion, decidedly separated from that of the parents ; the terrified child will betray no- thing of what passes there, it will be the victim of caprice, the witness of disorder, and for fear of not being believed, will perhaps be guilty of falsehood to conceal it. All these inconveniences, which a judicious and vigilant mother overcomes without difficulty, are more to be feared on the part of those go- vernesses who pretend to some knowledge. One should be preferred, who will allow herself to be directed, and in whom docility takes the place THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 295 of education; but then care should be taken that she have no vulgar habits, and that she communicate not to the child popular manners and expressions. The mother who would not suffer her children to draw their nourishment from the breast of a stranger, will not suffer these first ideas, so durable, to be developed in them by a woman without education ; after being the nurse, she will be the governess of her children, and will not be assisted by other women, except in tire- some details, and by yielding her place at short intervals. It is in the chapter dedicated to this mother, truly a mother, that I collect all that experience has taught me on the education of the earliest infancy. ii. Children are free in their first movements, as in their first desires of acting. Follow with your eye the timid steps which they endeavour to make alone, and if they approach any danger- ous articles of furniture, take care not to warn 296 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. them of these by crying out, which is the surest way of rendering them fearful or awkward. If they hurt themselves, be cool, and mildly stay their tears ; tell them with a re-assuring voice, you walked too quickly ; you did not look before you. There is nothing to hope from a mother silly enough to beat the table against which her daughter has struck herself; from a mother who induces the child to imitate her, and engenders the most blameable anger, in the place of an useful remark. This imprudent mother, doubtless, will not fail to promise the child, when he is carried reluct- antly to bed, that he shall return directly. If by a too weak tenderness a mother falls into such sad errors, there is no ignorant peasant but can take her place ; this mother will only en- gender in the mind of her child the idea of deceiving in his turn. Will this disposition to falsehood be produced by nature ? No, it will be the inevitable result of this first year of edu- cation ; of which, owing to their inexperience, young mothers are not sufficiently convinced of the importance. Respect for truth should be observed in the most trivial things ; and when a THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 297 mother plays at hide and seek with a child of" a year old, she can amuse her daughter, and ob- tain her innocent bursts of laughter as well, by saying, I see her no longer, as by crying, she is lost ! Where is she gone ? A child of a year old rapidly developes so much intelligence, that it is very certain its first year, though condemned to silence, has been in a great measure employed in observing. See it at six months recognise its mother, or its nurse ; a little time after, it will shew its father, its sis- ter. It cries, the breast is presented to it, it smiles, it kicks its little feet in token of satisfac- tion. At other times it cries ; it is taken out of the house, it breathes the pure air of gardens ; and the smile whieh suddenly succeeds its tears says to you : It is that which I wanted. When we make ourselves so well understood, we must already understand. In leaving very young children free to act, the greatest care must be taken to foresee all accidents : these cares do not render them timid and fearful, they are not able to judge of them. The edge of knives, and the points of scissars, may be removed ; windows, chimneys, welk, or basins may be surrounded 298 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. by gratings : the curiosity natural to children, their inexperience, ought to prevent you from trusting to their intelligence and obedience. An imprudent mother will content herself with say- ing to her daughter : I forbid you to go to the edge of the river. The little girl goes there, and says, I did not go. The mother, who sus- pects the truth, says another time : Do not go to the edge of the river, there is a wolf. And though disobedient and lying, the little girl be- comes docile, solely by the effect of a ridiculous terror. What value will she henceforth attach to the word of her mother? HI. From its earliest years the idea of bed, and that of sleep, should be united in the mind of a child. Take it up as soon as it is awake ; a morning walk, its breakfast, the enjoyment of its favourite toys, songs, and gaiety, should animate the first moments of the day; make it to like the instant which gives it to the action of life. Mon- taigne says : " It is good to fatigue children a THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 209 little, towards the end of the day, and to make them take a quarter of an hour's rest before they are put to bed ; the fatigue brings on sleep, and the rest renders the sleep calm ; they require being watched night as well as day." Learned physicians are occupied with the melancholy habits that bed causes children to contract. Let a mother carefully conceal the cause of the watch- fulness which she exercises on this delicate sub- ject : she should never pronounce more than the words propriety and impropriety. The child will not seek other motives for the care that is taken to make it sleep with its hands out of bed, and sometimes even with gloves on ; for you will tell it, that it puts its hands to its face, that it eats with its hands, and therefore they ought to be kept in order. If necessary, children may also be made to sleep in very long and wide gowns, tied at the extremity by means of a drawing. By the use of cold baths, the night inconve- niences to which children are necessarily subject, are easily overcome; we should also, in good time, take the precaution of awaking them at fixed hours. With these cares the most com- 300 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION, plete propriety may prevail at the age of two years. If the inconveniences are prolonged be- yond this time, they proceed from the weakness of the constitution, and it is then the affair of the physician. It would be as barbarous as useless, to use rods to cure this inconvenience, for the child that is beaten is indeed awake ; but as soon as he sleeps he forgets that he has been whipped. Children of a very lively disposition are dis- posed, from the age of three or four years, to be tormented with visions before they sleep. The terror which they experience at them is not blameable; they see^ or think they see, an infinite number of grotesque or frightful figures crowd before their eyes. How can we require them to render an account of these kinds of waking nightmares ? In this case, without punishing them unjustly, or condescending to their weak- ness, we should endeavour to overcome it, not by leaving them alone, and in the dark, but by taking proper care, without letting them know that it is with the intention of calming them. Children know not danger, how should they know fear ? It is true a sudden noise affects their delicate nerves, but in all other cases, far from THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 301 being alarmed at noise, they like it ; their first pleasure is in making it, and the sound of an harmonious instrument pleases their senses less than the roll of a drum. They all like horses, why should they fear a mouse ? Observe further, that a white mouse enchants even those who are frightened at a grey one : it is, that from imita- tion they almost always derive the principle of fear. Take away the example, banish the word^ and they will be preserved from a weakness troublesome in a woman, and contemptible in a man. Darkness inspires children with a sort of natural fear : they should be accustomed to it very young, conducted, without affectation, into dark places, and sent in the dark to fetch what- ever playthings they wish to have ; or taken out to play on dark nights. Hdlvever, care should be taken not to punish them by shutting them between two doors, or in a dark closet. If it thunders, pay no attention to this phe- nomenon, and continue your occupation ; during the continuance of a storm, keep away equally from your children people whom fear induces to pray, or make signs of the cross, and those who, permitting gross and irrreligious pleasantries, 302 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. deceive the reason of children. A false idea is as hurtful to them as the example of a weak- ness. It is deceiving yourself to think of guarding a young child against popular errors, by explain- ing them to him; the better way is to leave him ignorant of them. If you speak to him of ghosts, or wolf-men, (loup-garous) whatever precaution you take to make him conceive the folly of these imaginations,, he will only see the marvellous ; and the remedy, unskilfully applied, will be worse than the evil. A child who is forced to remain seated, cannot, like us, have recourse to dreams of the imagination ; he, therefore, consoles himself for this constraint by biting his nails, squinting, and a thousand other bad habits. Heavy chil- dren also, who are sedentary through inclina- tion, seek, in these bad habits, a means of animat- ing their feeble existence. We should leave a free course to the activity of some, and excite that of others. The impatient desire of expressing themselves leads children to forge easy words ; for a short time this habit must be tolerated. Vices, those melancholy diseases of the human THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 303 heart; may be engendered in the cradle; that of jealousy sometimes makes afflicting ravages. Jealousy is produced from a sentiment of self- love, placed in the heart of man by divine provi- dence, as a means of preservation. Reflection, and love of our neighbour, direct and balance this self-love ; but in the youngest children it often becomes the cause of a violent jealousy, which sometimes carries them to the grave, and always injures the happy development of character. This jealousy can only have for its object the cares and caresses of a mother; and the foresight of parents should preserve the child from this melancholy disposition. You should never say to him : " Your mamma will soon give you a little brother or sister, you will be no longer the pet ; she will be occupied with the little new comer, as she is with you." And who can be sure that a child, trusted to imprudent servants, has not heard such conversation, and has not been thus prepared to envy and hate almost from its birth, the friend that nature has bestowed. In the first moments of its birth, the immobility of an infant causes only astonishment in its elder brother ; but when he sees this infant press the 304 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. bosom of which he has a recollection, and smile at its mother when caressed, the poison of jea- lousy takes root in his breast. A prudent mother should then not only continue the cares which he was accustomed to receive from her, but she should be more assiduous ; she should even lavish more caresses on him. When the new-born child begins to grow, so that its features may be distin- guished, we should avoid comparisons with those of an elder brother or sister ; we should not say, he will be the handsomest, she will be the prettiest, We too often forget that we are understood by the very youngest children. This fancy for com- paring the physical advantages of children is so general, that there is no person who has not seen a thousand examples of it. And the intellectual faculties are compared with the same indiscre- tion. This one, says a mother, describing her children, has more recollection than the others ; the youngest has astonishing address, my eldest daughter loves study, her sister will learn no- thing. If you have made all these remarks, keep them to yourself, they will be useful to you in the choice of the several methods to be employ- de to direct various characters ; but communi- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 305 cate them not to strangers, and still less to your children. The present moment always oc- cupies us too exclusively in education ; we should continually have the future in view. Cherish by skilful and tender attention, not only the health, hut the happiness of your children : it exists in the union of families ; this union alone mitigates the troubles of life, and redoubles its enjoyments. The dress of children should be absolutely alike: a play-thing should never be given to the eldest without having one for the youngest. In turning all your attention to reassuring an elder child on the fear of seeing your tenderness directed to- wards a new-born infant, prevent him from con- sidering himself too superior to the new comer. As the latter developes its faculties, and begins to act, suffer it not to be accused of all the mischief which is done, nor permit the eldest to say : It is the baby who has spoilt this, who has broken that. Talk of the ignorance of the infant, engage the eldest to instruct and guide it, to become its prc~ tector and its friend, but never its accuser. If the useful precaution to preserve a child from jealousy have been neglected, or if an x 306 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. afflicting temper have rendered it vain, there exists but one remedy to overcome in it this ter- rible sentiment ; perhaps even to save its life this is to take away the new born infant entirely. " Further, consider/' says Fenelon, " how from this age children seek those who flatter them, and avoid those who restrain them ; how they know whether to cry or to be silent, to obtain that which they desire ; how they alreadypossess artifice and jealousy. " I have seen a jealous child," says " St. Augustine, he could not yet speak, and already with a pale face and infuriated eyes, he regarded the infant who sucked with him."* The following anecdote will illustrate this observation : A celebrated physician of Paris was called in by the father of a family; he saw a pretty little girl languishing and getting thin, without any person being able to tell the cause. The little in- valid is brought into the presence of the doctor ; she enters the chamber of her mother? he sees her Fenelon " De I'Education des filles." THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 307 throw a fierce and sinister look on a child of four months old, which her mother was suckling. Take the little girl back, said the doctor imme- diately, I know the cause of her illness ; she shall be cured. He then directed the mother to esta- blish her nursery in a distant chamber, to go to her infant to give it suck, and to keep it entirely out of the sight of the little invalid, with whom she should occupy herself exclusively. For two years this direction was scrupulously followed ; at the end of that time they announced to the eldest sister that they were going to give to her a pretty little girl, whose friend and protectress she should be, and who would play with her ; this made her expect her impatiently. These two sisters, whom I knew, loved one another tenderly, and the eldest owed to the enlightened understanding of an able observer, not only her cure, but the happiness of all her life. To educate children, it is first necessary to have a plan fixed, to follow it with a perseverance partaking of obstinacy, and not to make any modifications until we have deeply considered them. It is difficult to distinguish occasions in which we must persevere, and those in which x2 308 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. modifications must be admitted. To persevere is necessary, reason shows it ; but on the other hand, domestic education is always an attempt ; and where is the father, where is the mother, who has founded either on books or advice, a plan of education proper to be followed in every point ? Errors of education are not reparable, they strike home. The plan once adopted, a perfect accordance between the father and mother is the first basis of education. All is lost, if either be once blamed in the presence of their children. The contra- dictions of grandfathers and mothers are also much to be feared ; their tenderness for these little beings, whose present happiness occupies them exclusively, always partakes of weakness ; they want courage in regard to preparations for a future which they will not enjoy; and children are singularly clever in observing all that concerns them. If any punishments are going forward, the penetrating eye of the child who should suffer, will quickly distinguish the shrug or the sigh of his grandmother, the frown of his father ; and the power of his mother, who would punish him, will have already lost its force. If it be of con- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 309 sequence to repress before children the slightest signs of disapprobation, still more ought we to avoid discussing in their presence any points re- lative to their education. This would be giving them too high an idea of their importance ; it would also lead them very naturally to discuss themselves the law which ought to govern them ; then to revolt against this law ; finally to prefer that of their friends, whose opinions testified the most indulgence, and to de- test the other. The inconveniences which arise from this habit are very numerous. We should entirely conceal from children the springs by which they are made to act. Habits contracted in infancy mayinfluence the remainder of life ; this difficulty exists in the epoch of which I treat ; but another is joined to it. The same children whom you bring up to vir- tue, will soon arm themselves with an opinion ; they will be no longer beings blindly subservient .by their weakness, and deprived of discernment ; they will soon be endowed with judgment, and their father and mother are the first whom they will judge. At those moments in which a young couple 310 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. contemplate with delight the first fruit of their loves, an imposing and respected friend should ap- proach them,, and shewing them the infant whose eyes are still shut against the light, in whom life is only manifested by inarticulate sounds, he should say : " You are about to create to yourselves a judge ; before four years have passed, this child will know a part of your weakness, and how to profit by it. At twenty, it will have pronounced on your vices or virtues. Throughout its life it will attribute its faults to you, or pay you the homage of its gratitude. Its respect or its cen- sure will pass forward to its 'descendants ; this infant will represent you to all posterity." Who among us, has not learned from his father to at- tribute to ancestors, more or less distant, the origin of his elevation, and of his fortune, or the cause of his degradations and misfortunes ? A mother who charges herself with the first education of her son, doubtless finds this advan- tage in it dear to her heart the power of watch- ing at the same time the progress of his body and of his mind. Until the age of seven years, a boy may be guided by maternal hands ; after that he should THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 311 be taken away. The austerity of study, violence of diversions, and of exercise, all that is neces- sary in the education of men, to temper their minds more strongly, will incessantly wound the exquisite sensibility of a mother. But the fruit of early years is not lost ; the man returns to his first friend ; he likes all his life to make her his guide, and in the midst of the quicksands of the world, in listening to his mo- ther, he regains the docility of his infancy. It is easy to an observant eye to remark in men, whose earliest years have been intrusted to an educated and wise mother, a particular urbanity, a greater inclination to hear reason, and that re- spect and attention to females, which always denote the man of good company. The education of children commences at three years of age : from that time their memory is formed, and is capable of receiving the first in- structions. Be very careful of these first years of life, you will have less trouble when those ar- rive in which their education should be more extended. In ordinary undertakings or constructions, men examine with care the bases or foundations 312 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. of them, whilst childhood is often delivered up to the caprices of relations or servants, and to the foolish idea that these early years are of little im- portance, and that it will be time to repair faults of character when reason begins to be developed. They forget that the birth of passions precedes that of reason, and that time is given them to strengthen. Too often, for instance, you see parents grant or refuse their children that which they ask, not on account of the justice or extrava- gance of the desires which they have formed, but merely following their personal inclinations. If they have met with a fortunate incident, they are in a good humour, and grant indiscriminately all that they ask them ; if, on the contrary, any trouble, any disposition to melancholy excite their temper, they refuse even useful things. How do children then act? They bound themselves no longer to knowing whether their demand is reasonable ; they are solely occupied in the care of discovering the disposition of mind of their parents, and they are consequently led to reflec- tions which degrade, in their eye, those who re- fuse or grant, and which incline them to artificial calculations. Who among us has not heard very THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 313 young children say to one another : " Do not ask my governess for that, she is in a bad humour, and will not let us have it ;" or, " Mam- ma is veiy lively this morning, we can ask her to let us have what we want. Parents must not, however, accustom children to separate their in^ tercsts from that which affects them. A mother should say to her daughter : I am ill, or, some- thing gives me much pain, do not make a noise, nor fatigue me with foolish questions ; I am not ahle to answer you ; then the little girl will take a sensible part in the sufferings of her mother!, she will no longer say : " Mamma refuses me because she is angry," she will say, " Mamma is ill, and I must not teaze her." If any happy event make the heart of a father or mother joy- ful, they should tell it to their children, they should endeavour to grant them the thing which they de- sire, an agreeable walk, or a little party with their young friends; they should divide every thing in common with their children, joy or sorrow. In fixing these soft family chains, they will sow in their hearts the most precious social virtues. In general, the occupations, duties and plea- sures of the world employ a great deal too much 314 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. of the time of mothers of families. They talk not enough to children. It is useless to fatigue their attention by insignificant words, too often repeated ; they produce no effect. If a mother live with her children, if she observe them care- fully, they will of themselves indicate to her the moment for speaking to them with effect. Play often fatigues them ; they then come to her, and crossing their little hands, seem to fix all their attention on the tales which they desire and solicit. If the mother profit by this disposition, she will for ever engrave on their young hearts the truest notions and the most useful maxims. If she tells them a story, let it be a moral tale ; and accustom them in good time to distinguish the recital of a fact, which really happened, from an agreeable fiction ; tell them this is called a history, because the fact is true, but this is only a tale invented to amuse you. Authors never deceive as to the species of their tales ; they know that they would not be valued, if they dared to deceive ; for truth alone merits the esteem of men. When children begin to read, you will tell them, look at the title of this book, you read the word history; open that, you will find tales ; THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 315 you are therefore aware, even before you read them, that one is a true recital, the other a pure invention, composed to amuse. If you relate a thing which happened to yourself, your sister, or your governess, you repeat a history ; change the least circumstance, and it is a story. If you had wit enough to compose a tale like Beauty and the Beast, or Prince Cherry, though there were neither Beauty, Beast, nor Prince Cherry, that would not be blameable, because you commenced by saying that you tell a tale. How many various and precious things maybe conveyed into young minds by a mother who appreciates the utility of such conversations with her children ! Not only does she form their judgment, but she constructs the precious foundation of piety, cha- rity and goodness. Observe, might she say, this little girl, belonging to the gardener, she is very pretty, she runs as quickly as you do, she is very clever, it is she who catches the finest butterflies in my garden, to give them to you ; she knows how to make charming nosegays ; she is beloved by her mother as I love you ; she has a heart like yourself, it beats with joy when her mother returns from market, or from the fields, 316 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. as your's does, when I return from a place to which I could not take you. What, therefore, is the difference which exists between this little girl and you ? Her stays and petticoat are of coarse worsted stuff, your frock is of very fine muslin ; that is because God has made her pa- rents poor and your's rich ; but it is God who gives riches, and takes them away ; God can therefore deprive us of our fortune, and give it to the father and mother of that little girl. While appreciating the usefulness of conver- sing with children, we must not, however, answer all their questions : they often ask things on which it is thought necessary to deceive them, which is always very wrong ; we also conclude by ren- dering them importunate. We should explain to them all which they can conceive, and when they ask improper questions, say to them, this is above the comprehension of your age. Children often ask questions for the pleasure of talking ; they ask an explanation which has been already given to them ; we should be con- tent with recalling it to their recollection, and not again replying ; they then take the pains to think, and it operates in them a little movement THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 317 which brings to their memory that which has been already told them, and shews them the utility of reflection. When we are well ac- quainted with the degree of their intelligence, we may also exercise their minds in qualifying those idle questions which they ask on things which they can themselves explain ; tell them to think for a moment, and they will answer them- selves. This decision will discover to them that one moment of reflection will suffice to sa- tisfy their curiosity. Love, confidence, respect and fear, are the sentiments with which we should inspire chil- dren ; these sentiments are placed in the order in which it is of consequence to develope them. In ancient education, children were only inspired with fear; in modern, we are occupied much too exclusively in making them love us. It is true, that respect and fear rarely produce confidence and love ; but love, without fear and respect, is supported merely on all which flatters the desires of childhood ; and this love drops with age. It is a slight flame, which a breath may extinguish ; but nourished by esteem and respect, it increases with the years, and guides the first steps of youth 318 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. much more surely than fear alone, from which the passions can easily disengage themselves ; whilst an affectionate heart is drawn towards duty by the fear of afflicting beloved parents. The most important thing is to teach children to keep pace with the developement of their rea- son ; seek not to obtain premature flowers which will produce no fruit. Rousseau has thundered against little prodigies. " The masterpiece of a good education," said he, " is to make a reason- able man ; and we pretend to bring up a child by reason it is beginning at the end." But the just wrath of this great philosopher has thrown him into another extreme he has not sufficiently felt that it is necessary to reason with what little reason the child possesses ; that far from allow- ing its faculties to sleep, far, also, from rousing them, it is good to follow the developement step by step, and to hasten them as nature shews her- self prodigal or parsimonious towards it. The most essential thing is to imprint on their memory the meaning of words ; it is aiding the developement of their judgment. Words, ac- cording to Condillac, are essential to the know- ledge of things ; they are algebraic signs, which THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 319 serve for the solution of all problems. The heavy and silent, whom we instruct not, experience no intellectual developement. To form the judg- ment of children we must therefore enlarge their vocabulary ; and in this opinion, (which accords not with that of Rousseau) we see that memory is a mechanical power necessary to be formed before the perfect judgment of things. A child brought up by its mother should labour to please her, and should rejoice when it sees her satisfied ; this inducement, well ma- naged, may have great results. I would say, further, that we must be careful of lavishing promises and menaces ; if we announce with emphasis a long promised reward, if we threaten a long time before we punish, we lower the value of our favours or punishments ; promise, th reaten, but very rarely. Education consists as much in what is to be done as in what is to be said. The orders given by a mother are the result of her reflections ; she should therefore express them with coolness ; they will be followed without chagrin. Why should she not at times make use of the absolute expression of her will, to command 320 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. the child to do any thing which is agreeable to it, to send it to play or to walk ? It will prove the means of separating the idea of constraint from that of obedience ; but in all cases, agreeable or severe, the order should be irrevocable. It is the habit of obedience which forms the character. Knowledge, wit, talents, genius, these precious fruits of study or of nature, are too often spoiled by faults of character. The habit of obedience takes away nothing from courage, generous independence, or the firmness of reso- lution in man ; for I am supposing that we never make the child bend except to reason ; and this salutary habit destroys a vague, rebellious spirit ; prepare it thus to respect the laws, to submit to necessity, finally, to be resigned, the most power- ful consolation in misfortune. But it is particu- larly useful to women to know how to obey ; this is the true source of their happiness; a father, a mother, a husband, dispose of their whole life, and they have moreover to bear with submission the yoke of kindness and complai- sance. A child, used to correction, weeps when it is pu- nished, but it is in rage and not in repentance ; all THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 321 its faults increase ; he hates study, and cherishes hatred and malice ; you would com exhaust yourself in severe or tions, and you only harden it. (H 7 E E SI T 7, Woe to the mother, if, in a moi tience, forgetting that the child rears is her own offspring, she strikes it in order to correct it. If anger at first frightens a child, it becomes accustomed to it ; it goes so far as to preserve its composure, while you lose your's, and at the moment in which you punish it for a fault, it perceives a vice in you. If, be- sides, physical endurance be the only thing on which a mother founds the success of her cor- rection, the most noble qualities have already flown from the young heart which she would form to virtue. The body, which we strike, in the hope of correcting the soul and mind, will be accustomed to blows, and the punishment must be prolonged. A father or mother could then no longer approach their child to caress it, with- out seeing it raise its arm to shield the cheek which they would kiss.* * The common and shortest way of correcting children, is by punishments and the rod, almost the only remedy known Y 322 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. It is a barbarous folly to expose a child, who is about to be punished, to the ridicule of his com- panions. The secresy of punishments is, on the contrary, very useful in private education ; it dou- bles the effect of the pain inflicted ; it causes a proper modesty. In humiliating a child, we run the risk of debasing it in its own eyes, and dis- or used by several of those who are charged with the educa- tion of youth. But this remedy often becomes a more dan- gerous evil than those which they would cure, if it be used unseasonably, or without measure ; for besides that the pu- nishments of which we here speak, that is to say, the rod and the whip, have something- in them indecent, low, and servile ; they cannot of themselves remedy faults ; and it is not likely that a correction should become useful to a child, if the shame of having done wrong have not more power on its mind than even the pain. Besides, these punishments give it an incur- able aversion to things which we should endeavour to make it like : they change not the temper, and do not reform nature, but merely repress it for a time, and only cause the passions to burst forth with more violence when they are at liberty. They often abuse the mind, and harden it in evil ; for a child who has not sufficient honour to be sensible to reprimand, accustoms himself to blows, and, like a slave, bears with pu- nishment. (Rollin, Traite" des Etudes, edition de M. Le Tronne, vol. xxviii. pages 268-269.) THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 323 couraging it. Always respect in it the noble dignity which belongs to man. Punishments are continually used in education, which do much more harm than they repair. For example, the practice of shutting up chil- dren when we would punish them, is a dangerous custom ; if it be in a dark place, as I have al- ready said, you render them fearful. The im- pression alone that solitude makes upon them in a closed up chamber, may become fatal ; their imagination carries them away, you know not whither ; it may conduct them, perhaps, to some vice, perhaps to some act of frenzy. A woman once related to me, that having been shut up by her governess, and seeing from the place in which she was, her young sisters, playing and running in a garden, despair seized her, and the door was opened by chance at the instant in which she was going to precipitate herself from a height of twenty feet. I will quote two me- lancholy examples of threats of too severe pu- nishment. A little girl, of nine or ten years of age, who came with her parents to pass the week of Corpus Christi, in a country house near Paris, was tempted to take a watch belonging to Y2 324 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. one of her young friends, and yielded to this -criminal desire. The watch was sought for, and found ; the thief was discovered ; and the indig- nant parents forced her to follow the procession of Corpus Christi, with a writing, bearing the words The stealer of the watch. The culprit, confounded, submitted to the terrible punish- ment. She returned with her parents without uttering a word, or shedding a single tear ; and crossing a court met a servant, and said to her : Adieu, Marianne, I am dishonoured! then en- tering a wood, in which there was a piece of water, threw herself into it. A few years ago, a merchant of Paris threat- ened his son, aged ten years, with a very severe punishment, if, at the end of another week, he again brought a note of blame from a schoolmaster, to whom he went as day scho- lar. Saturday arrived ; the note of the master was still worse than the preceding ones. The child went as far as Gros-Caillou, un- dressed himself, folded up his clothes, put them on the edge of the river, and, on his great coat, which contained his things, he placed the fatal billet of the professor, on which he wrote : " I THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 325 dare not present this bad note to papa,, I would rather die." What virtues would be developed in young hearts, so susceptible as this, of a praise- worthy shame and lively repentance, if provi- dence granted them parents capable of directing the primary years of their existence. There are, moreover, imprudent punishments, which, without being so melancholy in their effects, favour one fault instead of destroying another. If, for instance, a child has read badly, and that to punish him you make him eat his bread without sweetmeats, you are far from in- spiring him with a taste for reading, you have only mortified his appetite. A little girl has made her hem wrong, she has scrawled her copy ; her mother, (and there are too many such) will tell her with emphasis, that she shall not put on her new frock, or that she shall go out without her necklace ; this is the best lesson in coquetry that the little girl can receive. Instead of this, read the lesson anew, make her re-commence the copy, or the hem, and destine the hour of recreation to this work. If you punish the child during a repast, de- prive it not of food ; make it take its accustomed 326 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. dinner in the same room with yourself,, at the same hour, but at a separate table ; deprive it of a sensual pleasure, and it will attach the more value to it ; deprive it of honour, and you make it feel the value of honour. It is of conse- quence to distinguish well in children the things which are to be corrected from those which we are wrong in wishing to repress, such as the inconsiderate noise and importunate games of which they are never tired ; but when they submit not to the command of ceasing these diversions, and continue them with obstinacy, it is the disobedience which we punish, and the punishment is justly applied. Punishments to be useful must be rare : multiplied and repeated, they produce more than one bad effect ; for children have a wonderful facility in turning them into ridicule. We fear to render children avaricious, by rewarding their good conduct with money. Instead of depriving yourself of this means, is there not a method of ennobling it ? Give money to your children, but on con- dition that in their turn they give it to the poor, they will then know the most noble use of it, without your having occasion to teach it THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 327 them. In private education we should in general be very sparing of compliments ; chil- dren cannot be compared to others, more ad- vanced,, without being disposed to believe them- selves little wonders, particularly when strangers are weak enough to praise them. We should also banish punishments which are known to others than the parents ; proper vanity and shame are sentiments which in young hearts should be equally preserved. The only manner of imbuing children with the salutary fear of public opinion, is to exaggerate the care which we take to ren- der their wrongs a family secret ; a tribunal is more fearful from its privacy. We must pre- serve their earliest years from the influence of the world, which spoils all. Applaud that which is good ; grant a maternal kiss as a recompense ; these very simple means will suffice to direct children, who are neither over indulged nor severely treated. In children, as in grown persons, anger is uniformly excited by resistance. We should not, however, always give into all the caprices of the child : but a refusal, made with coolness, and always irrevocable, provokes their wrath 3*28 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. but slightly. It is important not to excite in them desires which cannot be satisfied, a pre- caution which is seldom taken by governesses. They shew a watch to a young child, and make it tick in its ear ; it asks for it, and they imme- diately shut their hands, and putting the watch behind them, say, that they have it not. The child is vexed at not having the object of its desires, is angry at being deceived, cries ; and thus they give it both a lesson in passion, and an example of falsehood. Soon, like its nurse, it will conceal an object which it wishes not to give up, and like her, it will affirm that it has it not, for children are mirrors which reflect all actions. If the pupil grows up without your being able wholly to repress the heat of its character, use little punishment, address yourself to its reason, fortify the only power which can repress this fault ; remember, above all, that anger is contagious : be not confident in yourself, and oppose only* a calm and dignified resistance to the transports of which you are witness : when the crisis is over, you can apply the remedy. If the knowledge of good and evil be natural THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 329 in man, it is in cultivated and enlightened man ; it is a knowledge which children cannot, cer- tainly^ possess. Instruct your pupil, therefore, of that which you forbid ; fear not repeating that which you have already said, and do it in a mild and imposing manner. If in early play it breaks some china and you chide it, you may expect it to break much more, and never allow that it did so : if for the first sweetmeats it may steal, you punish it, it may still pilfer : but in the hope of escaping punishment, it will tell a falsehood. Fear may engage a child to falsehood, if you say to it, with a menacing voice, I should like to know who broke this ? the poor little culprit will cry, It was not I. A child who is not unnecessarily intimidated, becomes confiding ; its mother then reads its young heart, she studies it, and sees what she ought to rectify. Besides, by encouraging confidence, she has already banished dissimulation and falsehood ; but this confi- dence, so precious, should be merited. If you deceive your pupil, it would soon cease to be- lieve you ; and soon deceive you in return. To deceive a child, to appease its anger or its tears 330 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. what a futile advantage ! and how dearly is it purchased ! It is, however, done every day. A mother tells her daughter that she is going out ; the child weeps ; the mother adds, that she will return directly, and the tears are arrested ; but the mother returns not, and in future the little girl will cry obstinately and incessantly, every time she sees her mother preparing to go out. On a similar occasion, I have seen a mother put her snuff-box in the hands of her daughter, saying : You know that I cannot remain long without snuff, and you know that I shall soon return, because I leave you my box as a pledge. The child was calmed by receiving a pledge. What a shameful guarantee of truth ! Children will sometimes tell you, unnecessarily, and through pure carelessness, a thing which is not true ; learn to distinguish this sort of false- hood, and use not severe chastisement to repress it. A thousand opportunities of punishment will present themselves to you. For instance, the child will say to you: I am thirsty, I am hun- gry, and you will reply, that you do not believe it, that it has already deceived you ; and such, you will add, is the fate of those who depart THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 331 from truth., when they do speak it they are not believed. Do not make a jest of this kind of punishment, but let your pupil feel the want from which she suffers ; never ask a child if what it says is true : begin by believing it, and let it perceive your surprise, your grief and anger, when you discover that it has deceived you. Activity of imagination, and the desire of oc- cupation lead certain children to forge tales : it is this disposition of mind which produces im- postors. The history of impostors would furnish an useful and interesting collection ; they are found in all classes of society. Young peasants have invented cheats, which have thrown their province into disorder : other impostors have kindled wars and usurped thrones. A woman, led by a criminal audacity, has become in our days the pretended friend of a Queen of France, though the noble sentiments and dignified habits of this princess, since so unfortunate, render the tales of this intriguer as impossible as they are improbable.* We should therefore endeavour * See in the Memoirs of Madame Carnpan the details re- lative to the affair of the necklace. 332 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. to stifle in its birth the dangerous vice of false invention. People who are not of necessity placed at the door, seldom have the fault of listen- ing there. A child will not listen outside its mother's chamber, when it has a certain place near her in the inside ; and whilst nothing is said but what may be heard, there is no occasion to banish it. Have a care how you engender the failing of curiosity, by yielding for your conve- nience to the habit of sending away children without precaution, when you would speak of things of which they should be ignorant. As soon as they begin to read writing tolera- bly, they will take a great pleasure in exercising this new talent ; we should watch the use which they make of it : we cannot too soon teach them that discretion which forms the security of so- ciety. We put a letter, close sealed, on a table, with the address underneath; the child takes it up and wishes to read it ; we should teach him, that when a letter is placed thus, it signifies that it is not intended that the address shall be read, that they are uneducated people who indulge a similar curiosity ; that we should never seek to know any THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 333 more than has been confided to us ; that if we find a letter open on the ground, we should merely read the address, and return it to the per- son who has lost it, without reading the contents : that we should never approach people who are conversing in an under-tone, that we should not obtain by surprise the secrets of any person, and that we should always respect those whose con- fidence we receive. There is also a species of curiosity which mani- fests itself by embarrassing questions j we should know how to answer so as to calm the imagination of children, rather than excite it. As soon as they reflect, they wish to know how they came into the world. We cannot long satisfy this curiosity, by telling them that boys are found under a cabbage, and girls under a rose tree. At six years of age, a very lively little girl replied to her mother: "My Ave-Maria has taught me where children are placed before they are born." I have always answered this question with success, by saying, that the birth of children was a very shocking surgical operation, and that almost all mothers risk their life in giving it to their children; the word surgical 334 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. alarms them, and calms their imagination. They know very well that we do not explain to them the manner in which an arm or a leg is cut off, a thing which they often hear spoken of; they therefore ask no more,, and the idea that their birth has put the life of their mother in danger, softens them, and renders her still more dear to them. By these principles, thus engraved in very young minds, we cure children of curiosity, and make them observe the precious laws of delicacy, too often neglected by people who may not how- ever descend to the low curiosity of the vulgar. If I speak of theft, (be not offended at the word) a long experience has taught me that the desire of appropriating to themselves that which be- longs to others, is too often engendered in the minds of the youngest children, and afflicting examples prove that the shameful vice has been found in the most distinguished classes of so- ciety. It is by teaching children the respect which they owe to the property of others, that you keep from them the fatal temptation to de- prive them of it ; delay not, therefore, to inspire them with this salutary respect. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 335 Before a child ean speak to you and under- stand you, it has a language, which it uses to ex- press its desires ; it weeps, it cries, and extends its arms towards the desired object. If this object be not of a nature to be given to it, say : It is papa's, it is mamma's. You will thus aid the first words which it does already, or soon will pronounce, to prepare its mind for the know- ledge of thine and mine. You will soon say, while shewing it its plaything: This is your's, and by degrees it will learn that the plaything of its brother does not belong to it. If the horse be- longing to one of its playfellows be finer than its own, and tempt it, say not, to console it, that its own is the finest, confess the truth. But if it would appropriate to itself the thing which tempts it, prevent it from doing so. Mothers, know how to resist the tears of your children ; those early tears which imprudent women stop, with a complaisance that may one day cause themselves to shed very bitter ones. If you have perceived in your young pupil an afflicting propensity to theft, apply all your cares to the destruction of this inclination before in- creasing age strengthens it ; but learn to dis- 336 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. tinguish whether this dawning vice be accom- panied by others ; for if the object of your ten- derness manifests a soul naturally inclined to evil, the whole system of your education should assume a severer aspect. Without being more lavish of punishments, you should be more spar- ing of caressess ; your least words, your most indifferent actions, should be calculated for the effect they will produce on the child. The ob- ject then is not to conduct it in the path of vir- tue, but to bring it back to it. Do you per- ceive a ray of hope, does some change appear to crown your efforts ? do not suffer this salu- tary moment to escape : profit by it, do not lavish praises, perhaps premature ; above all, do not reward the child, (for it has only not done wrong) but shew it yourself, and let all around you manifest the satisfaction which you ex- perience. Let it read in your eyes, and guess in your smile, the alleviation of pain which it causes you. A mother may see destroyed every evening in her parlour the happy results of the morning. The anxiety of the triflers who visit her is to find a subject of conversation to pass away the THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 337 quarter of an hour which they devote to her. They see a child ; they notice it, caress and question it, and praise its cleverness ; if there were no child, they would notice the lap-dog. How many mothers have I seen, who, knowing the world, justly appreciated the sickly and per- fidious eulogies thus lavished, and yet by an unconquerable weakness, suffered their children to be so praised. Some act still more injudiciously, by quoting themselves the profound reflection, or the witty reply that their child has made. The child will one day say: Mamma, tell the lady what I said this morning. A foolish vanity equally inspires those ridicu- lous mothers, who make a parade of the educa- tion which they bestow, and interrupt a conver- sation to annoy themselves about some nonsense of their pets, or to answer their idle questions. That mother, who is the most usefully occupied with her duties of governess, is the mother who occupies others the least with them. 338 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION, IV. As soon as a child can pronounce distinctly, teach it to pray to God ; to learn to thank him for his benefits, and to love him. You will ex- plain to it how he must he feared, when you be- gin to teach it the Catechism. We meet many parents who would systemati- cally retard the moment in which we teach chil- dren the name of God, his power, and the wor- ship which is due to him. They doubtless ought to postpone the instructiongiven in the Catechism, on the existence and attributes of the Divinity ; but as to the love of God, placed though in- distinctly in the heart of all men, whatever the nature of their belief, it should be developed in children as soon as they are capable of admira- tion, love and gratitude. Say to a child that it is to God that it owes the tenderness of its parents ; let it pray night and morning for the preservation of their health. Let the prayer be short, but suffer it not to be muttered ; say it with the child, and instil that feeling, that senti- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 339 ment winch penetrates to the heart, and is engraven thereon for ever. Show God in all the beauties of nature; say that it is he who ornaments the ground with flowers, who covers it with fruits ; that the fine roses, the delicious grapes, are pre- sents of his bounty ; that he makes the waters flow, and turns the harvests yellow. Make your pupil admire the sun, so beautiful, and so bril- liant, that he cannot look on it ; teach him that God placed it in the heavens to warm the earth and nourish it. Thus explain to him all things which strike his view, and ought to astonish it. You will thereby not only instruct, but you will dispose him to direct his own attention to ob- jects which successively appear before him. The habitual reading of the works of the immortal Fenelon, will facilitate to a mother the means of giving lessons so important. The love of God thus engraven in the hearts of children, we must not delay instructing them in the first truths of their religion : they are contained in the usual prayers. About the age of six years, religious instruction, thus instilled in infancy, through the natural phenomena at which man ceases not to be astonished, becomes the z 2 340 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. most solid basis which can be given to articles of faith. Be careful of saying to a child that there are wicked poor ; conceal your opinion of these un- fortunates, too often reduced by their vices to beg their bread ; they are the images of nudity and suffering, and that is enough. Shut not an opening heart to this touching impression ; let it be softened by seeing half-naked children and old people covered with rags ; they ask bread, let the child give it to them. Let it have an allow- ance from its earliest years destined to this pious use, and let it be thus accustomed to take the part of the poor. If it asks you why God gives not bread to these poor people ? answer, that if riches are not equally divided in the world, to repair this misfortune, God has placed in the heart of man sensibility, and the desire of assist- ing his fellow creatures. F nally, when a child gives alms to an old person, make it accompany this gift with a testi- mony of respect ; say to it, give to this old man, because h'e is poor, salute him because he is old. Useful precepts may be contained in few words. Men are born with a disposition to imitate the THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 341 actions of others ; we should therefore be con- tinually careful not to give to children the slight- est example of the cruelties which are constantly exercised on animals. A mother should care- fully keep her children from the sight of these barbarous scenes, which occur every moment, and particularly in the country, for the wants and supplies of the household. Never let them assist at the cruel death of a pig ; let them not see the kitchen-maid plunge a knife into the throat of a chicken or a pigeon : let them not be witnesses to the cruelties employed by the huntsman to train his dogs. I would proscribe those cruel diversions in which a child takes pleasure in tor- turing an insect. Moreover, children should never be amused by the pains taken by unfortu- nate birds to draw up their seed and water. Bring up children to tell the truth, you will thereby make sincere men ; render them com- passionate, they will become brave without being cruel : tastes change, but principles are permanent. 342 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. v. Communication with domestics should be as rare as possible ; children can only lose by it ; to separate them entirely would be impossible ; it is therefore very necessary to teach children to behave well to them. Repeat often that their faults arise from the misfortune of not having received an education, and that they are more to be pitied than blamed ; this equitable idea is rarely met with in the minds of grown up men, therefore place it in good time in those of children ; make them perceive, that if we have the right of speaking haughtily, and in their presence, of the faults of our servants, the silence which respect imposes on them deprives them not of the right of complaining of us in places where opinions and judgments are often formed, which become diffused, and sully our character. Forbid children all familiarity with servants ; the best disapprove of it themselves, and will serve neither the haughty man, who will not address a single word to his servants, nor him THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 343 who forgets himself by putting himself on an equality with them. Gifts do not always obtain the attachment of domestics. The most estima- ble have a feeling of their good qualities, and will not be unjustly offended. How many wo- men load their femmes-de-chambre with favours, and yet cannot attach one to them ! When a young girl approaches the age of ten years, we should be particularly careful to watch her communications with the female servants, and render them as rare as possible. With the old she will forget what she owes to their age, and the length of their service ; she will play with the young, treat them sometimes with fa- miliarity, sometimes with impertinence, and con- tract the dangerous habit of confiding to them family secrets, of which they ought to be igno- rant. Women have great need of being early and wisely directed in their conduct towards those who serve them. Sensibility of heart, delicacy of health, sedentary life, the details of house- keeping, the toilet, and travelling, materially connect the mistress of a house with her female servants. Bounty without familiarity, repri- mands given with coolness, testimonies of satis- 344 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. faction for things which merit it, these fix and attach women who deserve to be valued ; they feel their own worth : like ourselves, they have their own self-love, and like not to be degraded in the eyes of the world. VI. Why should a little girl be complimented on her toilet ? We should confine ourselves to prais- ing her for being properly dressed. Sufficient attention is not paid to the coquetry which is infused into girls ; whilst we should constantly direct their self-love towards a taste for propriety, the attraction of which surpasses, in all eyes, the brilliancy of the richest apparel. When a mother ornaments her child with rich em- broideries or laces, she acts neither for the hap- piness of the present nor that of the future, but merely gratifies her own vanity. Simple clothes, a straw hat, a veil, and gloves, all clean, and in good order, should be the apparel of a little girl. However rich her parents may be, they will act with wisdom, and make her feel very little pri- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 345 vation, in allowing her nothing more ; fine things only incommode children, and occasion them an- ger. " True grace," says Fenelon, " depends not on a vain and affected apparel. It is true that we ought to consult propriety, adaptation and health, in the clothes necessary to cover our bodies ; but, after all, these stuffs which cover us, and which we may render convenient and agree- able, can never be the ornaments which bestow true beauty."* VII. Teach children their sports, but do not make use of amusements invented to facilitate their first studies : these surprise their memory, de- stroy their intelligence, and prevent them from application. We must not merely consider the pleasure of a first success, but prepare for others. The best of all methods is to have the letters of the alphabet printed upon cards ; place them on * (Euvres chuisies tie Fenelon, cle L' Education des Fiiles. 346 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. the ground, and name them to the child, who finds them out, and brings them to you, naming them : we thus save the disagreeableness of re- maining in one place before a little book. After the wants of eating and sleeping, that of motion is necessary to children ; we should therefore be careful how we restrain it ; we should even pro- mote it. Vexations given in first lessons produce, in some children, a distaste for all instruction ; we should lead them by the most insensible steps to the habit of fixing their attention. As soon as children find pleasure in reading, they suspend their play, bring, themselves, their little book, and like an occupation which has not been preceded by tears ; we should fix an hour in the morning for reading, and carefully keep to the book which interests them. This will accustom children to much regularity in the employment of their time. By this we also inspire them with a desire to finish a reading commenced. After the first progressive lessons of the Abbe Gauthier, make them read the Conies (fun genre nouveau. The author of this charming work THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 347 has kept himself anonymous, but has made a most useful present to mothers and children; all is simple and adapted to the most youthful capacity. To make them read these tales which have charmed the primary years of life, from our grandmothers to ourselves, we must wait until children know very well that the dog does not speak, that it barks, that the horse neighs, and the ass brays : they will then laugh at the wolf, dressed as a woman, and laid in the bed of the grandmother of little Red Riding Hood. Pre- vent servants from telling them these tales ; for they will not wait until their judgment is suffi- ciently formed to hear, without alarm, the words: " The better to eat you my child ;" children will laugh at hearing these words, but they will not be the less frightened at them. Never allow more than one book at once, and do not accustom children to the vague desire of changing their reading ; it is placing words and things in their memory without order, and which bear no fruit. Perseverance teaches itself, and we know of what utility it is in studies, and in all the transactions of life. Besides, children 348 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. are very much disposed to re-cornmence the reading of a book, the words of which have been explained to them, and which they can read more easily; they like repetitions. Who has not heard them ask their grandmother to amuse them with the recital of a tale which they have heard five or six times before ? Give not to your pupils little works extracted from ancient history, in which are repeated the actions and names of Socrates, Alcibiades, Caesar, and Cato, when they should only know those of Abraham and Moses. Order, in the communication of history, aids the developement of mind, and is the most natural method of teaching it. It is of importance to choose reading anala- gous to the tastes and dispositions of children ; they then find a real attraction. Observe the different sensations which they experience while reading tales in which wicked children are justly punished. Do not say to them, what a wicked boy that is ; leave them to make the remark. Do not say of the story which should move their sensibility, how touching ! leave them to be moved ; and if some precious tears manifest the THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 349 emotion of a young heart, learn to conceal the share which its sensibility has in producing your own. Avoid leading childhood to feign this touching quality ; its only merit is sincerity ; and nature in children is the most precious of all qualities. VIII. With a hundred counters of ivory we may give the first lessons in arithmetic. The idea of numbers is essential to the developement of intelligence. A child has already acquired cor- rectness in its ideas, when it has attained that of great and small numbers, and does not say a hun- dred for four. Throw one, two or three counters on the floor, the child picks up, and counts them ; shew it thus how to count an hundred ; then give it two counters, it places them ; give it two others, and it counts four; and so on. Two and two make four, is a very simple axiom, to a cultivated capacity ; but until the age of six or seven years, demonstration alone can make it well conceived : and thus simple addition may 350 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. be taught. The child places five counters, you make it take away one, and ask it how many re- main? it finds four; and learns, that from five take one, and there remains four. Here you have given it the first lesson of simple sub- traction. As the child counts, trace before it the figures which answer to the numbers which it names ; teach it to know them, and to make them on a slate. But never suffer those games which throw some attraction on study ; keep steadily to the pencil, the pen, and counters, until your lessons are ended. In teaching several children at once, we must expect to meet with some who have much diffi- culty to conceive ; we should conceal this from them as much as possible, and assist them a little more than the others, that they may not lose the emulation which proceeds from compe- tition. Idleness is a general defect ; it has its attractions ; we should do away with them ; it is always ready to console the child who is dis- contented with himself; success and emulation disengage the intelligent child from it, while dis- couragement plunges the dull one headlong into THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 351 At the age of six years, without being fatigued by premature efforts, a child may attain a very satisfactory degree of intelligence. The time between this and the seventeenth year, is of great importance in the course of education. We should then be incessantly occupied, not in forming their reason, but in extending their judgment. Reason is a result ; it is not to be taught, but must be incited to grow. IX. At seven years of age the indispensable sepa- ration takes place ; a mother places her son in the hands of men, and remains charged with the education of her daughters. The future desti- nies of these will depend entirely upon the en- lightened attentions and examples which she will give them. If she is neat, she will continually shew them the use of being so; if she is domestic, she will make them contract the precious love of c/iez soi. The English have a distinct word for this interior 352 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. sojourn, and pronounce it with a sentiment of respect/ which reminds us of the penates and lares of the ancients. Every virtuous French female experiences this exclusive attachment that a woman should feel for her abode, and should depart from it as unwillingly as English ladies quit their dear home. There is no boarding-school, however well con- ducted it may be no grand national establish- ment, however wisely it may be organised no convent, whatever may be its pious rule, that can give an education comparable to that which a daughter receives from her mother, when she is well informed, and finds her sweetest occupation and truest glory in the education of her daughters. But we may also affirm, that the education of the most obscure convent, of the most middling boarding-school, is preferable to that given by an ignorant and dissipated mother. She is con- tinually repeating that she should be miserable if she trusted her daughter in strange hands ; and suffers her to grow up among servants, in an ill regulated house ; receiving ill-given lessons from able professors, dearly paid for ; and almost al- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 353 ways interrupted by all the details which con- sume the morning of a woman of the world yet such a woman would educate her daughter! Can two such opposite educations have but one denomination ? the first is maternal educa- tion, the second is merely education at home. Mothers so little capable of bringing up their daughters, believe they obviate all difficulties by taking a governess into the house. But to be usefully assisted in a duty, they should be able to fulfil it. If these mothers take any part in the education which they cause to be given, it is merely to blame and chide unreasonably; some- times they discourage the pupil; sometimes, without consideration for the governess, they change her, and exhaust the sensibility of their daughters by the successive presence of women, who are by turns praised as superior beings, to whom they owe friendship, confidence and sub- mission ; and denounced as valueless persons who are to be got rid of. When a mother, having delicate health, or per- ceiving the inferiority of her own information, decides on procuring a governess, she should re- pose on the person whom she has chosen, all the 2 A 354 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. responsibility of her important undertaking. Nothing can regulate her more, or inspire her with more emulation. At liberty as to the manner of her instruction, let her subject her pupils to an examination on all the branches of their education in the presence of their parents, once every three months. Let a mother exercise a just watch- fulness on the conduct of her girls, on the means used to make them follow and like employment ; she is then satisfied as to the conduct of the go- verness, and informed of the reality of her talents. A governess should be freed from all the cares of servitude ; let her attend to the health and the dress of children, let her assist at their rising, and going to bed ; but let a servant wait upon them. If children think they see a kind of nurse in their governess, her power is destroyed. She should be treated as is a mother, who takes the trouble to instruct her child. Parents, how- ever, should not go so far as to procure pleasures for a governess, of which her pupil does not yet partake. She should not figure in a drawing- room in an evening, when her pupil is not there : a few hours of distraction can only render more painful the cares which are continually required THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 355 in childhood ; and an instructress by labour and study should cultivate the acquirements which she should teach. Never let the least disapprobation be addressed to a governess in the presence of her pupil; a mother, when she finds any thing to blame, should repress it, even in the expression of her countenance. The youngest little girl, if she attends to it, will discover in her features the proof of her dissatisfaction ; and if she once be- lieves that her governess has been found fault with, she will incessantly try to throw blame on her, and will no longer feel for her either fear or respect. Let all remarks to be made be confined to private conversations ; and after this, behave so as to defy the curious penetration with which the little girl examines the features of her gover- ness, to discover if there are the slightest traces of grief: the property of seeing every thing belongs to the early years of life. 356 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. Well directed in all the branches of her educa- tion, a girl may unite to agreeable talents the practice of the duties belonging to a mistress of a family. Talents, even in the eyes of their most severe censors, acquire an incontestable value, when a young person possesses them without con- ceit, and sacrifices to them no duty or conveni- ence ; when she considers them merely as an ornament to more essential qualities, and sees in them only a means of diffusing a charm over do- mestic life. Let us not give way to a belief of the impossi- bility of uniting, in a girl perfectly educated, ac- complishments and duties, which general opinion falsely deems incompatible. I am withheld from describing too particularly a maternal edu- cation carried to this high degree of perfection ; but I know a girl, of eighteen years of age, who expresses herself as well in English and German as in her own language ; who is acquainted with all that composes an extensive and solid eciuca- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 357 tion ; has the greatest execution on the piano- forte, and particularly possesses the true talent in music, that of reading it at sight ; and who paints heads and landscapes in oil, so well as to find it a useful resource against great reverses of fortune. To these arts she unites the greatest skill in all the works of her sex, from the simple seam to the art of making artificial flowers ; and yet this union of different talents so little destroys her taste for the modest occupations of the house- hold, that when in the country she makes cheeses, preserves, and light confectionery ; she interests herself in the details of the kitchen, overlooks the farms, informs herself of all that relates to the cultivation of the earth; visits the poor of the village, and assists, and causes them to be taken care of when in sickness. In the evening she entertains the assemblies in the drawing-room with the rare talent of reading well ; singing also with taste, or playing on the piano, to the dances of her young friends. A sincere piety and attractive modesty are the solid foun- dations of so many advantages, owing to the most virtuous of mothers. This amiable girl possesses them as an ornament bestowed upon 358 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. her, and never permits a compliment on her ta- lents and qualities to be addressed to any but to her from whom she derived them. In reading this description of her whose name must not be condemned to the melancholy honour of publicity, you will only see an ideal portrait ; whilst all who know her, struck with the fidelity of the resemblance, will not confound it with those models of perfection which figure in works of education to excite the emulation of youth. Will it be feared that this young gir!, brought up to divide her time equally between the duties of piety, the occupations of her sex, and solidly acquired talents, may be induced to signalise herself among women of levity ? Let us suspend for a moment the sentence pronounced too lightly against accomplishments ; let us inform ourselves of the kind of education which frivolous women have received ; let us inquire if they know how to profit by the pains taken in their youth ; and we shall discover that they are the most super- ficial, the least educated, the most ennuyees of their sex, who plunge with the greatest blindness into ihe whirlpool of pleasure. " The igno- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 359 ranee of a girl," says Fenelon, " is the cause of her ennui, and of her not knowing how to employ herself innocently. Arrived at a certain age, if she has never applied herself to solid occupations, she can have for them neither taste nor esteem ; all that is serious appears dull to her, all that de- mands a steady attention fatigues her. The in- clination for pleasure, which is strong during youth, the example of persons of the same age, who are immersed in dissipation, all serve to make her fear a regulated and occupied life. In this early stage she wants experience and autho- rity to manage any thing in the house of her pa- rents, and knows not even the importance of ap- plication; particularly if her mother has not taken care to make her remark things in detail. If she is of distinction, being exempt from manual labour, she will sew a few hours in the day, because it is said, without knowing why, that it is proper for women to do so ; but this is often only a feint, and she will not accustom her- self to steady occupation. " In this situation, what will she do ? The company of a mother, who watches her, chides her, and believes that to bring her up properly 360 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. she should pardon nothing who makes her hear all her caprices, and always appears overwhelmed with domestic cares, constrains and discourages her. She is surrounded by flattering women, who, seeking to insinuate themselves by base and dangerous complaisance, obey all her caprices, and instruct her in all which can render her dis- gusted with propriety ; while piety appears to her a tiresome occupation, and a confirmed enemy to all pleasure. In what, then, will she employ herself? In nothing useful. And thus inapplication becomes itself an incurable habit."* Women are formed for sedentary life ; it is at home that they find true happiness ; the wisest incessantly repeat this truth. Yet experience, that school of maxims, also teaches us that ennui drives happiness even from the abode which should be its dearest asylum, and often leads women imprudently to believe that they will re- gain it abroad. Why do we see so many more well-managed houses among people constantly engaged in anxious occupations ? It is because * Fenelun, l)e FEducalion des Filler THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 3~61 ennui never takes a seat between the husband and wife ; that they never reserve a place for it at their family repast, that moment of repose and enjoyment to people of the lower classes. Form the judgment of women, that they may be use- fully consulted on the interests of the family, and may know how to appreciate the education, the great works, and valorous exploits of their husbands; to acknowledge their just superiority; to satisfy them by their spirit of order, charm them by their sweetness, and know how to amuse them by their accomplishments. Let the purity of their religion, morals and modesty, be certain pledges of constancy and honesty ; and then the power and happiness of women will not be solely owing to the fleeting attractions of youth and beauty. What husband, attracted by so many good qualities and charms, can seek abroad for amusements which never equal the charm of his own home ? This image of a woman, formed for her own happiness, and that of all who be- long to her, is here traced as a model which all sensible and enlightened mothers should hold up to their daughters. 332 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. How,, without injuring the health of a young person, can we instruct her perfectly in her re- ligion, form her judgment, and unite several per- fectly-acquired talents to a solid education ? I repeat, hy a judicious division of the various things taught, and by the proper employment of time. The true pronunciation and familiar idioms of a foreign language can only be learnt from a native. At the age of five years, the young per- son whom I have already quoted had an English nurse; some of her relations wishing her to learn German, six years afterwards they sent to Ber- lin for a German female, who was charged with waiting on her, and teaching her the language. Acquired by speech alone, these two languages were afterwards taught by rules, and the read- ing of their best authors ; and time did all the rest. Regularly retiring at ten o'clock, and rising at six, the day of a young girl is com- posed of sixteen hours ; five hours given to rising, the toilette, meals and recreations, there remain eleven to be employed in different studies. The holidays of Sunday and Thursday are in- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 363 dispensable in an education thus precisely cul- tivated. Method, and the regular employment of time, are not the only advantages possessed by public over maternal education. A valuable emulation reigns in schools, which cannot be introduced into private education without fear of changing the nature of it. In a class, it is always ac- companied by a generous sentiment ; in a family it produces only rivalries, jealousy, and some- times hatred. Self-love is the only sentiment awakened in classes by the rewards or punishments distri- buted by the mistress ; the praises, reproaches and chidings of a mother who instructs several children, excite, in less enlightened minds, a se- cret jealousy of that maternal tenderness on which their future so much depends. Children rarely see the cause of their faults, and always seek that of their disgrace in unjust preposses- sions. Amongst a great number of young girls, who are on a par in the degree of their instruction, several are found of the same age , free from all troublesome rivalry, they yet contend, and are 364 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. solely occupied with the desire of arriving first at the desired point. In a family, the different ages and incompe- tent methods, give not the same causes for emu- lation, and furnish not to the parents such exact points of comparison. In a class, young girls admire and cherish their rivals ; in the paternal mansion, there are none who experience not the first sentiments of that jealousy, of which their sex is so suscep- tible. If a well-informed and amiable young- person is quoted to them, if this model of per- fection, with which they are continually teazed, offers the least scope for criticism, it is seized with eagerness, and the most troublesome dis- position of the mind takes the place of a noble and generous sentiment. Let the resource of emulation, therefore, be left where it will produce the most happy re- sults ; but let regular methods for the employ- ment of time be observed in private as in pub- lic education. Let the same hours bring the same duties, as strictly as if the clock struck the entrance and exit of the classes, their recre- ations, and recall to occupation. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 365 XI. The study of sacred history should be the first in order; it for ever imprints epochs and eras on the memory ; it traces the line of chronology to its origin, and thereby gives children an idea of universal history. Why make the world commence with Ro- mulus or Pharamond? We should commence with God, who created this world. To favour justness of conception to the les- sons of sacred history we should join the first notions of geography. The best way is this : make use of a globe of a sufficiently large dia- meter ; the world there presents itself under the form in which we acknowledge it ; whereas the two great circles of the map placed close to- gether, are not intellible to very young children. On the globe we should first shew them the spot on which God placed the first man, the division which the sons of Noah made between them ; then turning to the maps in the atlas of the Bible of Sacy, or those of the Abbe Lescui, 3()() THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. we should trace the march of the Israelites, and the establishment of their tribes. In like man- ner, we should follow the mission of Jesus Christ upon the earth; nothing is more interesting than to seeachild thus explain as the first lessons of his- tory, these primitive foundations of our religion. When the divisions of the globe have become familiar to the pupil, make it understood that the four quarters of the world, drawn on separate maps, are so only to render them more easy to be studied in detail. Europe should be first taught, with care. We should commence by making them acquainted with France ; with the help of a good Geogra- graphical Dictionary, composing for them a journey through the French territories. The child follows with a wand the route of this jour- ney, stopping at towns, telling their topographi- cal situation, monuments and establishments, the names of celebrated men whose birth-place they are, and their particular productions, com- merce and industry. This minute geography much amuses the pupils, and I have met in the world with females, who still remember the plea- sure they had in my youthful classes, in saying 2 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 307 that Rouen produced the best apple-jellies, and Verdun the best sugar-plums. For the comprehension of history, and for pre- sent utility, France should afterwards be taught, by provinces and departments ; the pupil, with a small wand, alternately designates and explains the relation of departments with provinces. The use of separate sheet maps, placed on a desk du- ring the lessons, is preferable to that of an atlas. Dissected maps are only an ingenious play- thing ; children very quickly seize the pieces formed to unite, and compose the whole of them, like dissected engravings ; following only that which the sight indicates, and without deriving from it any solid instruction. XII. The first part of grammar should be taught by making children learn the verbs by heart. Occasionally, lessons which successively illustrate acquired rules, are preferable to those which are taken from a book. We may easily compose these examples ; a useful maxim, a moral 368 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. cept, contained in a small compass, will double the utility of these lessons. A book, from which only a single page a day is written, however well chosen, will not serve for the instruction of children ; they are too volatile to join a thread so often interrupted. Faults should be corrected by explaining in what they depart from given rules ; each lesson should occupy two days, and when six of them in illustration of the rules have been completed, they should be recommenced. XIII. Ought talents to be given to women ? This question alone has caused a great number of writings, discussions and criticisms, and is not yet properly settled* However extended may be the education of your daughters, if their judgment be proportionately cultivated, there is nothing to fear ; and even when they have per- fected any one of their talents to a degree meriting celebrity, fear nothing, if you have taught them, at the same time, how much it costs to be cele- brated . THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 3G9 Accomplishments spread a great charm over life ; they animate solitude, complete happi- ness, and console grief; but it is at home that they become useful, and charming ; elsewhere they may become dangerous. Yet you may say, will a decayed gentlewoman, who has no re- source but in her talents, be to blame if she seeks a profitable celebrity? If accomplish- ments are the ornaments of the rich, they are the riches of the poor. The situation of this female has changed, and that which she knows, becomes a laudable resource ; but she should always respect decorum ; and if she possesses true talents, she will know how to render them known, without having recourse to an in- convenient publicity. For myself, I should make a powerful objec- tion to the cultivation of the arts. I think I have remarked, that they destroy the develop- ment of thought ; the prodigious time which they demand to acquire them, is doubtless the cause. The enthusiasm which they inspire, also, often exalts a young imagination, and in females this is not the least hurtful result. It is the duty of a wise mother to calculate their effects as 9 i 3/0 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. they ars produced ; she should guide the inclina- tions of her pupil,, sometimes towards reflective studies, which calm, while they direct the vague and rapid flight of thought ; and some- times she should employ her daughter in more amusing labours ; for excess of austerity is also to be feared. The subdivision of time in the several occupa- tions of children, merits, in general, a daily and continual attention ; it is by that we obtain harmony in the whole of an education. I would have a young girl, accustomed to pass from her dancing lesson to the cares of the house, to handle alternately, and with equal pleasure, the needle, and the pencil ; but I would, above all, banish from the mind of a mother, the foolish and dangerous self-love which makes her lavish praises on her children. It is there that the wisest of mothers fail, for the snare is placed by maternal tenderness. Of what use are their efforts to form young girls for domestic cares, if it is for a gavotte or a rondo that they receive their applauses? How will the pupil compre- hend that all her pride should one day repose on the well-filled duties of an economical wife, an THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. an industrious mother, when rewards, caresses and praises are lavished upon the slightest suc- cess in the arts ? when drawings, either mediocre or finished by her master, are displayed with admiration to the eyes of her parents and friends ? The study of the amusing arts, notwithstand- ing, requires some emulation. Let it be given in the family ; let relations and some of those friends who, for the charm of private life, always aug- ment the number, be rendered, several times in the year^ judges of the progress of a young girl sufficiently happy to recognise the world in an intimate circle. Expose not this young and modest flower to the notice of numerous as- semblies. It is very easy for a mother to cause to be said, by the parties who compose her small and chosen circle, that which she thinks of the progress or neglect of her daughter in the cul- tivation of her talents ; this judgment, mingled with just compliments, will be of the greatest use to her in private education. Indiscriminate praises can only have bad results ; a girl brought up alone, or*with her sisters, however little she 2 B 2 372 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. may be praised, soon thinks herself a prodigy. She has not near her any point of comparison which can enlighten her, as to her true merit : those who surround her praise her; how can she help believing them? To remedy this in- convenience, you will, perhaps, think of uniting your pupil to some girls of her own age, and make them contend with each other. Leave, I repeat, to public education the means which are peculiar to it ; emulation is there useful and powerful ; elsewhere you will obtain only rivalry and jealousy. Educated by her mother, a girl should study to please her, and rejoice when she succeeds ; this stimulus alone, when well managed, produces great results. XIV. Children's balls are in fashion, and fashion is a monarch ; it is therefore only to some prudent mothers that I would indicate the danger of them. In education nothing should be hastened, even in the most essential things. Should we THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 3/3 hasten to inspire the desire of pleasing by figure, dancing and the toilette, in children who have so little need of display to amuse them ? Must they be prematurely introduced into bril- liant circles where they contract vices ? Should a simple amusement render the toilette of a young girl an object of elegant consideration? Mothers deceive themselves in the cares which they thus prematurely cultivate, and mistake their vanity for maternal tenderness. Besides, who knows whether some young dancer may not address to his partner those flat- tering speeches, of which she ought to be igno- rant, until she can appreciate them ? Do we believe that passions are so very tardy in deve- loping themselves in men ? I have seen a duel engaged in by two rivals of fourteen years of age, for a beauty of twelve. And this same event, which is often occasioned by meetings of children of the two sexes, has furnished Ma- dame de Genii s with the subject of one of the comedies of her charming ( Theatre d'Edu- cation.' Accomplishments should not form the basis of the education of girls ; but the first lessons 374 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. in dancing and the piano should be given at about the age of seven years. Youthful limbs can place themselves more easily according to rules, which add to the graceful embellishments, and render them so natural, that the fruit of lessons can no longer be distinguished : it is also very certain that the development and health of children gain much, when they contract in good time the habit of holding themselves up, and walking gracefully. The piano-forte requires a long and painful mechanical study ; this study is well adapted to an age in which the judgment cannot be em- ployed in more useful occupations. The pliant fingers of childhood accommodate themselves to this exercise ; more advanced, they acquire a rigidity which refuses to do so. All persons who have a true knowledge of this instrument, have begun to take lessons at the earliest age ; yet, I have remarked, that it is proper to wait until the hand can nearly reach an octave on the keys, without which, children contract the habit of making their hand spring forward, which they get rid of with great difficulty. We now possess fixed and excellent methods THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 3/O for the instruction of the piano-forte. The rules for fingering are no longer uncertain, as they were thirty years ago, before the school of the Conservatoire of Paris, where almost all celebrated professors are formed. The instruc- tions of M. Adam, and other works founded on the same rules, are generally adopted; and a pupil, in changing her master, is no longer ex* posed, as formerly, to the necessity of abandon- ing habits already contracted, to recommence the study of fingering of another master. We should not require children to stud} principles alone, which would be fastidious even to a reasonable person ; they cannot study wil- lingly until they begin to know some airs which please them, and attach them to it. During the first year, they should have a lesson every day ; these lessons need be repeated only three times a week, when the pupil has advanced a little. The hour of instruction ought to be fixed like that of a lesson, arid the mother should be pre- sent ; for in attention consists all the utility. To play at sight is the desired point in music. We possess but an imperfect talent, when memory alone places under our fingers some 3/6 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. very difficult and brilliant sonatas, executed with- out that feeling which forms the perfect know- ledge of harmony. Yet we should not cause the sonata or rondo, already learnt, to he suddenly abandoned : it is not only agreeable to the pa- rents, but it is useful to the scholar, to have always (to make use of a technical expression,) one or two pieces under the fingers, which she can play. Without boasting of the talent of her daughter, a mother should accustom her to play as soon as she is asked, in the presence of friends capable of entering into the views of parents by applauding the happy results of study, without lavishing those eulogies which arouse self-love. To tremble through timidity, is to deprive your- self of all power in a species of accomplishment in which the hand requires to be unagitated by any impression of the nerves. We should very early conquer this troublesome habit, and pre- vent the return of it. I have known young persons seized with such timidity at the age in which reflection developes self-love, that after charming society by the display of a very fine talent, they have suddenly lost the power of playing before any person. The position of the THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 3/7 hands in playing the harp renders the trembling still more probable and troublesome than on the piano. In singing, the inconvenience is still worse ; the first effect of fear is to alter, by con- fining, the organs of the voice. The habit of playing on the piano, at the first invitation of a mother, also prevents that mania of bad taste, which consists in causing yourself to be assailed with repeated entreaties, so fatiguing in general to those who take the trouble to make them, that the pleasure they receive very seldom repays the ennui and impatience of a too prolonged attention. The numerous hours that a young girl em- ploys in the study of an instrument would be much to be regretted, if they did not procure for her a genuine talent for life. Nature often refuses organs favourable to the art of music, but she rarely distributes these gifts by halves, and we may be certain that the little girl who sings cor- rectly the air of the day, and has already some agreeable tones in her voice, is perfectly organ- ized for its acquirement. It is evident that her ear is just, since she retains a series of varied tones, and that she has the proper organ, since she can 3/8 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. repeat them. The ear may sometimes be just, without the voice being yet developed, and that is sufficient. Children themselves shew the degree of their musical organization by the greater or less eagerness with which they listen to instruments, or dance, or march in time, when they hear country dances or marches played. Why should we make a musician of a child, when we have not remarked in her any of these evident signs ? Other accomplishments may re- place with advantage that for which nature has not fitted her ; and in every thing we should submit to her laws, and not comply too easily with the desires which children express.* * I will observe, on this subject, that when we wish children to learn many things, we should practice the art of making them ask for the masters whom they desire to have ; and when they demand them, we should say that we only consent, on condition that they promise to persevere in the new study which they have chosen ; because, there is weakness, and consequently shame, in renouncing a thing which they vo- luntarily undertake. Without this kind of artifice, children. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 3/9 We hear it said every day, that a young per- son, as soon as she is married, shuts her piano, which becomes merely a useless piece of furni- ture ; that is true, when it recalls only the melan- choly recollection of a culture without fruit. If, by means of repeated lessons, severe chiding and tears, she is able to play some sonatas, which have never contributed to her pleasure, nor that of others, is it not very natural that she should free herself from this constraint, as soon as she can follow her inclination ? When a young woman, at the time of her marriage, can accompany herself at sight, and after sing- ing a selection of agreeable airs, can transform her piano into an orchestra, she animates the gaiety of a well-assorted union ; at the same time, her talent will continually procure her the means of to whom we wish to give a very extensive instruction, will find themselves overloaded with studies, and will regard them with much disgust. There is no occasion for this strata- gem in objects of instruction which are absolutely necessary, or considered so, as Latin for men, history, geography, &c. ; but it must be employed in all things in which it is not shameful to be ignorant. (Lemons d'une (Jovemanle a ses 380 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. occupying and pleasing herself, and most cer- tainly,, she will not neglect it. ss xv. If you cause your pupil to contract early the habit of occupying herself with domestic arrangements, if you inspire her with a taste for country affairs, she will cultivate private life and will be preserved from the too common fault among rich women of fortune, that of appre- ciating a house merely by the beauty of a draw- ing-room, or the elegance of a boudoir, and gardens by the good taste of gay pavilions and arbours, where ennui nevertheless quickly assails them. We should risk rendering the instruction of a young girl nugatory, if an orderly and con- tinually observed method did not make the hours, destined for the care of the household, re- gularly succeed those devoted to sedentary studies and lessons ; let every thing have its stated time, and we shall find time to attend to every thing. Habits are to be feared ; we are accustomed to be prodigal, as well as economical ; it is, THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 381 therefore, indispensable to carefully teacfca girl the value and use of money, before we repose in her sufficient confidence to trust to her the expenses of her maintenance. For one or two years we should make her add up the articles of her expense ; after which, let her reckon, and distribute herself the sums destined for their dis- charge. Reflections often arise from that which meets the eye ; and without having a love for money, its prompt dispersion causes a sort of regret, and inspires the desire of sparing it. Let not a mother fear to render her child avaricious ; this vice belongs not to this age, which gene- rally gives way to prodigality. Wants are so multiplied, industry is so employed, that under a thousand seducing forms superfluity takes the form of necessity. A young woman, on entering the world, ought incessantly to repress her de- sires by the precious habit of economy. It is particularly essential to trust a girl to pay her- self the different masters wiio attend her ; she will then better appreciate the expenses of her education, and will feel the necessity of profiting by them; and every thing which exercises the 382 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. judgment, forms it. Lessons of economy are too often confined to vague recommendations to be sparing, and to reiterated complaints of excessive expense, which never fail to teaze youth without forming it. It is one of those things in which proofs are every thing, prin- ciples nothing. How important it is for girls to learn from their mother how great a share wo- men may have in the preservation or ruin of the fortune of their family ! and that they should know from her that the division of duty between man and wife gives to one the care of acquiring, and to the other that of preserving. The epoch of the first communion doubtless leaves salutary impressions ; but a mother will be much deceived if she is ignorant that every step towards the perfection of reason is accom- panied by new tendencies to folly. She ought to expect this, and follow the development with patient attention. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 383 XVI. The best educated and handsomest little girl, arrived at the age of twelve years, will pass over a space of four years, during which, her graces, her mien, and even her features, will lose a great part of their charms. Her -growth, however regular it may be, will produce rest- lessness, and the most false reasonings will take place of her childish docility. During the course of these four years, a mo- ther will remark in her daughter the dawnings of a desire to please ; she will imitate all which her unformed taste will represent to her as agreeable. If one of her companions, older by two or three years than herself, and who has obtained some notice in the world, has the mis- fortune to lisp, she will do the same ; if a wo- man, quoted for her acquirements, has any fault in her gait or carriage, she will imitate this na- tural imperfection, and fancy that she has ac- quired one of her accomplishments. She will never fail to follow the most ridiculous fashion. 384 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. With patience and mildness we must make her blush at all these errors ; and ahove all, always prevent her from altering her voice or pro- nunciation. Nothing gives stronger prepos- sessions against the character of a woman than a lisping and affected speech, by which she at once announces the ridiculous and constant ef- forts which she makes to please, in disguising her natural voice. A correct pronunciation, a choice of pleasing expressions, form the greatest charm of conversation. Happy are they, who to these can unite wit, address and taste, without ever prefering them to nature ! This is an age of impertinent repartees, even towards the most respected persons. These re- partees often partake of a vivacity of mind which reason has not yet conquered. When they are not accompanied by traits of malignity, they need give no uneasiness with regard to goodness of heart. These light inequalities will disappear with the desire of pleasing, and the need of being loved. Great care should be taken to prevent girls from reading romances at an age when the judgment is not yet formed, and the first ideas THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 385 are excited by vague sensations; a mother should have courage to renounce it herself. I say courage, because there exist many which she may regret not reading; but would she not have much more to regret, if she preserved not her daughter from the attraction of this reading, which may sometimes, without danger, charm the leisure of a formed mind, whilst it conveys the most melancholy disease to the ideas and mental formation of a young person ? A mother should therefore totally forbid this kind of read- ing. Should she say to a girl of fourteen, there are your books, and here are mine ; what in- conveniences would proceed from such a di- vision ! Can we flatter ourselves with making a girl read with interest the history of Greece and Rome, with placing the less brilliant facts of modern history in her memory, if she can find a thousand times greater pleasure in reading Ma- thilde in the Desert, Corinne in Italy, and the Heroines of Walter Scott, in the Mountains of Scotland ? These works have not only this in- convenience, that we must forbid the reading 2 c 380 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. of them ; they have the additional danger of moving the heart and mind, by sentiments pro- duced from the power of love, by thwarted in- clinations and imaginary events, which the ta- lent of the author envelopes with a deceitful appearance of truth. The necessity of pro- ducing great effects, constrains romance writers to overcharge the description of vice and virtue. Like a false map of geography, those produc- tions, instead of guiding, mislead the first steps of a young girl. Shall we say that there are romances, the morals of which are so pure that they may be read without danger; in which vice is always punished, and virtue rewarded ; in which we contemplate fine and noble cha- racters ? Arguments favourable to this kind of reading are supported on errors ; love is never banished from it ; all the favoured lovers are handsome, brave, sincere and faithful. So se- ducing a picture strikes the imagination of a young girl ; from this moment she seeks in the world the chimerical image of the heroes whose adventures she has read ; and if, which happens but too often, the husband destined for her of- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 387 fers no resemblance to this cherished image, it also too often happens that when married, she is so unfortunate as still to seek it. Romance reading has further the inconve- nience of exalting sensibility. To prevent so precious a gift of nature from becoming hurtful to happiness, sensibility should be formed with judgment, otherwise every thing is carried to the extreme; we no longer appreciate, we admire ; no longer approve, but boast ; no longer love, but adore ; the most common events appear in- stances of strange good fortune, or of a dreadful calamity, True sensibility is allied to goodness and com- passion, and thus enters the region of the heart ; exaggerated, it belongs to that of imagination ; it will lead a young girl of fourteen to confound expressions of filial tenderness with those of a sentiment which her heart anticipates. This unnatural sensibility misleads women on the most holy points of pious duties ; they pass the bounds prescribed to their sex in all which re- lates to the Catechism ; we have seen some, whose exalted minds borrowed the forms of a lively eloquence, and who seemed to wish to 2 c 2 388 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. unite the government of religious ideas to the power of their eharms. Was it not a woman who drew on Fenelon the thunders of the church? If sensibility, directed by imagination alone, could produce similar errors, with what care should a mother forbid her daughter the reading of works in which piety, respectable in its prin- ciple, is lost in the language of mystification ? Immutable and sublime truths lose nothing by simplicity of expression ; their triumph is in touching the heart and astonishing the reason; to embellish is to weaken them. XVI. I write for the world, and in the hope of being useful to it ; I will not be more severe than it is itself. I even believe that moral health is better promoted by a degree of prudence, wisely combined, than by severity without re- flection. The soul is formed, nourished, and grows like the. body; different lessons of morality should, therefore, be given' to it in proportion as it becomes capable of receiving them. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 389 Alter forbidding a girl to read any sort of romances, at eighteen years of age her prin- ciples being consolidated, I would have her mother make her read some of those works which depict our great errors and misfor- tunes. A mother, before she marries her daughter, should conduct her into the world, make her acquainted with its pleasures, and study to render her politeness benevolent. Let her accustom herself to listen with inte- rest, to speak little, and to reply with grace. A young person should be full of regard to elderly females, amiable to the young, equally polite to all men, but more occupied with those of mature age. Young people are apt to discern the effect which their presence produces ; it is their most habitual study ; embarrassment and blush- ing evince it no less than simpering and artificial gaiety. A calm and polite ease keeps them within the bounds of respect much more than affected prudery. It is not of men alone, but very much of themselves, that young girls should be made 390 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. afraid. If you represent all men to them as per- fidious, ungrateful monsters, and some young man discovers to them a pure and regulated mind, they will immediately be smitten by this phoenix ; make them rather fear their own weakness ; teach them that the forgetfulness of modesty may, in a single instant, lower them in the eyes of men ; that they are generally dis- trustful of the virtues of our sex ; that they in- cessantly study the impression which their presence may make on our senses; and that to obtain their esteem, we must know how to go- vern the impression. Let the dress of a girl be simple, but very precise ; propriety should be its greatest orna- ment, and the good taste of her mother will keep extravagant and transient fashions from her toilette. The day after an evening passed in the world, the conversation of a mother with her daughter should consist of valuable lessons on the errors which she has remarked, on faults which she herself committed, as well as on all things which have justly merited praise. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 391 To praise the talents and accomplishments of others, and to find pleasure in making them va- lued, is the surest method of pleasing and heing praised in your turn. Praise, however, should wear a character of modesty. An eulogium which should seem to say, my superiority ap- preciates you, will wound as much as indiffer- ence, or any air of criticism. In general, let a mother form her daughter to observe, and not to criticise: we make remarks to ourselves, we criticise to others. Honoured be the mother, who, in bringing up her daughter, is not actuated by the sole desire of rendering her fascinating, and who sees not exclusively in the superiority of her talents a means of establishing her ! To form her judg- ment, and enlighten her mind, is to secure a durable happiness. Accustomed to place in the first class of her duties all those which relate to piety, modesty, decorum and useful know- ledge, she will cherish her home, and cause order and economy to reign there. To these qua- lities let her unite knowledge without pedantry, talents without pretension, and grace without 392 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. affectation ; she will then be wise without vanity, happy without witnesses, content without ad- mirers, and a good wife, a good mistress of a house, and a good mother of a family. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 393 OF PUBLIC EDUCATION. EDUCATION, that important subject, has not ceased,, at all times, and in all civilized coun- tries, to rouse the .most sensible hearts, and to occupy the wisest governments; yet, this so often debated subject seems still undetermined. In France, opinions are almost as divided on education, as on the best forms of government. Some think that men separated from the world, devoted wholly to their personal studies, and rinding no food for a praiseworthy ambition, but in the progress of their pupils, are the only per- sons capable of educating youth : others main- tain, that men tried by the labours, pains, plea- sures and dangers of society, knowing all the duties of citizens, and all the emotions of pater- nity, are more proper to instruct and form youth . Sometimes we countenance classical studies alone; sometimes the disposition or views of chiefs of empires, lead them to give great en- 394 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. couragement to the arts and sciences ; some- times we admit of accomplishments in the education of young men ; sometimes we reprove them. Some say, that to be wise, and conse- quently happy, men of the lower classes have need of instruction; that a cultivated judg- ment renders them more docile to the voice of reason, more disposed to a reflective obedience, which produces the sentiment of personal dig- nity, love of their country, and respect for the laws. Others deny all these ideas, and would confine education to a small number, and bound that of the mass to the mere instruction of religion. When questions so grave, and so much beyond my understanding on the edu- cation of men are still debated, how can we wonder that the culture of women has scarcely occupied the attention of governments ? It is only within the last fifty years that any attention has been paid among us to the educa- tion of females ; the progress of this part of instruction was not remarkable, until near the crisis of the French revolution. Twenty-five years before this last epoch, most girls passed no more than a year in a monastery, and this year THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 395 was devoted to a profound study of the Cate- chism, retirement and the first communion. This retirement freed parents from the embar- rassment and inconvenience of conducting, or causing them to be conducted, to the public Catechism of the parishes; but we had for a long time abandoned the custom of leaving girls to the age of eighteen behind the grates, whence they issued, without knowing how to write two words of their own language. I fear not being taxed with unjust prejudices against the ancient education. On the table on which I am writing, lies the discourse of the immortal Fenelon, on the education of girls, and I there read these lines : " Teach a girl to read and write correctly ; it is shameful, but common, to see women who have wit and politeness, un- able to pronounce clearly that which they read ; they either bawl, or sing ; instead of which they ought to read with a simple and natural, but firm and easy tone. They are moreover very ignorant of orthography, and the manner of forming and joining their letters in writing. Accustom them, at least, to make their lines straight, to render their characters neat and read- 396 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. able ; a girl should also be acquainted with the grammar of her own language." By the little which Fenelon requires, it is easy to judge of the little that was known. Without vanity, I believe I may flatter myself with having given more variety and extent to instruction. As to the sacred duties of religion, the efforts, which, in the establishments confided to my care, I have had the happiness to devote to this im- mutable basis of all virtues, confirm the sincerity of my opinions. In 1795, in those unfortunate times in which religion, the centre of all public morality, was annihilated, the establishment that I formed in the town of Saint-Germain con- sisted only of three pupils, when I associated in my labours a nun of the order of St. Thomas; she was charged solely with the instruction of reli- gion, whilst I gave my attention to all the other branches of education. Some years afterwards, when a happier time restored to the French the free exercise of their religion, I caused a chapel to be built, and established an almoner to direct spi- ritual instruction. My chapel was consecrated ; several bishops volunteered to officiate in it; and as the great duties of religion might there be ful- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 397 filled, the pupils were no longer obliged to quit the precincts of the house. ii. There are very few schools in which children are well fed ; there are even some in which they are not sufficiently so ; this is not merely a fault in the heads of these establishments, it is a crime. Purity of blood, strength of body, and the future health and comfort of youth, are too often compromised by the avarice or carelessness of teachers. It is shameful to hear incessantly so many art- less complaints, on a point so essential. Scholars often murmur at the sight of the loathsome food which is served up to them, revolt in their refectories, and become disorderly, through a cause which their superior does not duly consider. Excellent bread, good meat, and well-seasoned vegetables, served with propriety, suffice to satisfy scholars. The appetite of youth has not occasion for made dishes. Rich parents would obtain particular attentions by paying higher 398 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. terms, which it should be the duty of masters of schools to refuse. The children of the rich should proceed^ without distaste, from the most sumptuous table to that of their school ; and those who, at home, are not accustomed to good living, should not lose, at school, the habit of a sobriety conformable to the mediocrity of their fortune. The true, the precious level of equality should prevail in schools ; there, alone, society admits of it. At the table of a school, the chil- dren of a peer of France, and those of its farmers, should be equally treated. The laws of society are not those of the school ; scholars acknow- ledge no other superiority than that which is the fruit of exertion. Why engender pride or envy in their hearts ? The study of history will teach them the high price attached to valour and eminent talents ; the world will acquaint them with the personal or hereditary advantages which will form their just recompence ; they will know how to arrive at them, or to submit to see them possessed by others. But it is dangerous to make minds experience the consequences of these political distinctions, which are not yet enlight- ened by the knowledge of the laws of society. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 399 In early youth, as in the primary years of life, these impressions are deep, and often resist the power of reason. We are assured that people who have signalized themselves, in the most melancholy manner, at the hloody epoch of our revolution, revenged their school affronts while boursiers* in great Parisian colleges, because desserts were granted only to boarders paying for them ; and that the mere sight of fruit, given to the son of a nobleman, whose exercise or translation they have written, to save him from the most shameful punishment, kin- dled in their hearts the first sentiments of a ha- tred which the injustice of the world increased, and carried to the most criminal excess. However this may be, without fear of being deceived, parents may consult and listen to the children themselves, on the article of food. They are sincere, when they live united ; their judg- ments are equitable, and they are willing to do justice to schools, where they are well treated. Parents should not therefore require a preference * Scholars that have pensions in colleges or servitors. 400 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. for their children ; but on this important article should complain loudly for all ; their complaints then become more praiseworthy and generous, and impose a more salutary fear on the masters. .It is a blameable and dangerous custom to give children money to spend in eatables. The choice of provisions bought by servants, who think only of how they can rob the scholars, is always bad ; and these illicit repasts are also made at irregular and injurious hours. Schools will al- ways be badly organized while such an abuse exists ; it introduces gluttony and fraud. If the health of a child requires a particular breakfast, let the mistress of the house be charged by the parents to procure it, and let her give it openly, as following the order of a physician. A jelly, a cup of chocolate, or a piece of fowl, will not then excite more jealousy than a basin of barley water or asses milk. If the child of a nobleman is endowed with a strong constitution, we should be cautious of consenting to procure it these delicacies ; if the child whose parents have only a small fortune, is in a state of health which requires cares of this nature, let them be furnished at the expense of the school. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 401 To organize all which is capable of abuse, is the means of making it disappear. The expenses of great establishments for edu- cation are considerable ; the profit which estima- ble masters derive from it is very small ; cares maintained for a great number of years, end in the attainment only of a moderate fortune. III. Religion, morality, instruction, accomplish- ments, and assiduous watchfulness, reiterated counsels on all which relates to the character, studies and behaviour of pupils, compose the cares which should incessantly occupy a good schoolmistress. A regulation is not difficult to compose ; the difficulty is, to make it attended to, and, above all, to maintain it. The great guiding rule of mis- tresses ought to be the maintenance of all that ensures the execution of a difficult system, which bends themselves as well as their pupils, and of which experience alone, and their own sound discernment, may successively demonstrate the 2D 402 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. utility. Frequent inspections, increasing atten- tions, and an indefatigable perseverance, are re- medies which should be -apposed to the inevit- able inconvenience of relaxed attention. The stronger the organization, the easier the execu- tion of a regulation becomes. The writer of these remarks has undergone all the experience which successively suggests the variety of discipline indispensable in large assem- blages of children. Twenty-five pupils formed the school which she established at Saint-Ger- main ; three months after, she had fifty ; at the end of the year she collected a hundred ; and concluded, by having to direct the education of three hundred girls. At her entrance into a new career, her zeal was unassisted by experience. An unforeseen incident prescribed to her the ne- cessity of making her pupils enter or retire from the different pursuits in which they were united, agreeably to an arrangement made, to prevent the least confusion. At the termination of a repast, some dancing dogs were admitted into the court of the house ; the desire of seeing the childish spectacle made them crowd towards the door ; a young pupil fell ; the vivacity of youth THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 403 prevented them from noticing her ; several passed over her, and wounded her grievously. From this moment they walked two by two, and in time. At their entrance into chapel, the dining- room, and other places of assembling, the scho- lars curtseyed at coming in and going out. These reverences were not only of use in calming their impetuosity, but contributed to the upright- ness and good carriage of the body. We obviate many dangerous consequences by preventing races in the house ; let them be reserved for garden amusements. There prisoners base, and the ambition of first reaching a gaol, are exer- cises as salutary as useful to the development of youth, and as suitable to young girls as to boys. The sound of the bell equally calls mistresses and pupils to their duties. This bell, which regulates rising, dressing, prayer and the class entrance, is one of the great advantages of public education ; it subjects to the empire of necessity ; and it is much to have learnt how to be com- manded. This method saves all time lost in irregular preparations for passing from one duty to another, which should be avoided as much as 404 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. possible. The bell, the hammer and the rattle, have important parts to play in public education. That which saves words to the masters, takes from youth the opportunity of exercising its malice, and preserves more dignity to professors. In free schools of the people, where the number of masters is not proportioned to that of the scholars, the brothers of the Christian doctrine make use of a telegraphic instrument, which transmits various general orders. In a more o extensive instruction, the masters must speak but merely to teach ; the rest is under the go- vernment of discipline. The bell for rising should sound twice, at five minutes interval. This bell should ring three times in the evening : on entering the dormitory, undressing, and five minutes after they are in bed. Evening prayer should take place in the chapel, or in the respective classes. The overseer of each bed-room should have her bed elevated several feet, and placed so that she can see all the beds of the scholars. In large establishments, it is well to make a servant sleep near each bed-room, in case of accident, to be ready to give assistance in the night. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 405 I insist, that a dormitory, to be well regulated, and to obtain order and silence, should not con- tain more than from five-and-twenty to thirty beds. If the elder pupils are together in cham- bers, let the number of beds always be uneven, that a teacher may sleep near them. The hour of rising, from the 1st of April to the 1st of October, should be fixed at six; from the 1st of October to the 1st of April, at seven. Why make girls rise with the light ? the day fully employed is sufficient for all studies. To force young people to follow customs which are not observed in the world, is to give them natu- rally a pretence for disengaging themselves from it sooner. In abusing an useful habit, we may fall into the opposite extreme. Every pupil ought to have her number on all things destined for her use ; not only her linen should bear the first letters of her name, and her number, but every thing belonging to her bed should be marked with her name at full length. Let this name, written on a ribbon, be pasted on every article composing her dress, in the crown of her hat, her gloves, &c. &c. We should ac- 406 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. custom girls never to use any things but their own. We too often see women, very indifferent to this delicacy, permit themselves to borrow and make use of the apparel of others ; and we should prevent youth from contracting even the least blameable habits. In boarding-schools, the linen is generally changed on Friday or Saturday evenings. The person charged with the care of it should place on the bed of each pupil the linen intended for her. This linen should be confined by a stout strap of white tape, on which the name and num- ber of each scholar is marked. A buckle of steel is attached to this strap, which afterwards con- fines all the soiled linen, in its turn ; and a minute is then sufficient for a servant, furnished with a basket, to remove, without confounding it. A similar buckled strap should be given to each pupil to contain her towel, comb, brushes, Sec. Attentions to propriety of persons cannot be too multiplied. We should not allow the hair to grow until after the twelfth year. In France, girls do not generally attain any rank in society until their eighteenth year ; and hair preserved THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 407 with care for six years, has then become its proper length ; cut regularly until the age of twelve ; the roots become stronger, and it is not so subject to come off on the ' slightest attack of fever. In schools, we have sometimes great difficulty in prevailing on a mother to sacrifice a fine head of hair, cherished from the cradle, but enlightened on a demonstrated fact ; they at last consent, and propriety, on a most essential point, is secured by this sacrifice. The face, neck, hands and feet should be paid the greatest attention to. To a dormitory, of from five-and-twenty to thirty beds, there should be six foot pans, and every morning the feet of six children, according to their numbers, should be washed, which secures them a foot bath every five days. The hands and teeth should be washed every morning, the face and neck in the evening, before retiring to rest. The sudden impression of the air on the face which has just been washed, is unfavourable to the skin. After rising, prayer should be said in common, the epistle and gospel read aloud ; as to the class which can only spell or read with difficulty, one 408 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. of the elder class should be appointed every week to perform this duty. The class should be entered at ten o'clock ; writing, grammar, lessons in history and geogra- phy, occupy them until one o'clock ; drawing from one to thpee ; dinner takes place at that hour, and an hour of recreation follows it. In the dining-room a scholar should mount a pulpit, and repeat grace, and the customary prayers ; a blow from a hammer, struck by the overseer, makes all sit down, and prescribes silence ; din- ner eaten, the pupil in the pulpit reads the grace ; the reader is chosen from a number of elder girls, made to attend to the service of the tables and distribute the bread ; they should be served after the others. Grace said, the pupils retire class by class, at a signal which is given to them ; they curtsey at the door, and should not quit their regular walk until they reach the garden or their class. Silence only can guarantee the means of teach- ing many children together. A practice of the boarding-schools of Geneva, which are generally esteemed, assists much to obtain silence in class and the refectory. Mistresses should be furnished THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 409 with a wooden ruler, which they give to the first who articulates a single word ; but she who re- ceives it, has in her turn the right of giving it to the next who disturbs order. Recreation should occupy an hour ; the even- ing should be employed in sewing, or in lessons of music. Thursday the employment of the classes is suspended ; instructions in accomplish- ments, reading and sewing occupy this day ; the recreations of which should be longer. Discipline should increase in proportion to the number of scholars; nothing ought to be neglect- ed; the eye of the mistress should penetrate every where, that regularity may be observed in the slightest affairs. Emulation forms the strength of public edu- cation ; it there prevails in young minds, directs them towards that which is right, and communi- cates no stain to the generous sentiments of the heart and soul ; there alone rivalry produces not jealousy, we learn to rejoice in the happiness and glory of others, and friendship redoubles our en- * joyments. Children incapable of being excited by emula- tion, learn that rewards are the fruit of labour ; 410 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. knowing that they have done nothing to obtain it, they judge themselves, and if their hearts have not experienced generous emotions, it is seldom they are tainted with the odious senti- ment of envy. Female boarding-schools have existed in Eng- land since the reform of monasteries. They have set me the example of establishing, every year, before the holidays, an inspection made in the presence of the parents of my pupils, and such friends as they choose to bring with them. Books were the prizes given for all works and accom- plishments, dancing excepted. Dancing appeared to me useful, for the ease, grace and dignity that it gives to the carriage , but I never made its ad- vantages consist in a perfection quite incompat- ible with the principles of a wise education. The pupil who best made a shirt, was rewarded like her who made the best drawing, or replied with the greatest correctness to the questions of the masters on history and geography. The study of literature was confined to the knowledge of dif- ferent kinds, in which they exercised poetry and eloquence. This assemblage, of more than a hundred THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 411 young girls, the beauty of some, and the interest which they inspired in the midst of a quantity of works produced by their hands, and proving the useful employment of their time, formed almost too seducing a sight. The inspections in my establishment terminated by a concert, never by a ball. A great number of girls' boarding-schools being established in Paris, this competition excited ri- valries, which, indeed, in some of these houses violated the laws of good taste and good man- ners. They raised stages, and crowned the pu- pils to the sound of trumpets, instead of recom- pensing with the simple gift of a book. Inspec- tions, terminated by theatrical representations, ballets were introduced, and innocence appeared in the constume of opera dancers. In the pro- vinces this was carried still further ; and to pro- cure a name, mistresses of schools boasted of salles de spectacle. The pages of journals were filled with accounts of the inspections of girls* schools, and all the cares which I took to preserve my establishment of Saint-Germaine, from this publicity, were ineffectual. In 1807 government forbade this custom; it 412 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. did well. For it had degenerated into abuse, and in establishments where decorum was respected, the spectators of these touching scenes were not worthy to be so, since they mistook the senti- ments which animated young hearts filled with innocence. The regulation of the imperial house of Ecouen, established the privacy of ancient convents. The princess protectress, and the high chancellor of the Legion of Honour could alone assist at the inspections, as judges of the progress of the pupils. They gave no prize, the ambition of passing from an inferior class to one more elevated ; the view of a pile of sashes of different colours ready to be distributed, were alone sufficient to excite their zeal, and make all hearts palpitate. These ex- aminations took place four times a year, and the hope of advancement was incessantly cherished. An engraven card, ornamented with a vignette, representing all the attributes of study and la- bour, from the spindle to the pencil, was the pledge of content as to the success of their stu- dies, and also carried contentment to the bosom of families. I was always pleased at seeing that privacy di- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 413 minishcs nothing of the most praiseworthy emu- lation ; and that on judgment days the scholars experience the same emotions in the cloistered interior of Ecouen, as if their parents and friends were witnesses to their triumph. To incline to the right way, the happy purity of this age has no occasion for the approval and suffrages of the world ; youth merits the honour of dispensing with it as a judge. It was there that I learned still more the power of a generous emulation. I have, however, met with systematic people much opposed to these means ; and we may, and ought to suppress them in private education, where there is no concurrence, and where the satisfac- tion of their parents should be the childrens only recompense. But in public education, emulation is as necessary to the success of youth, as is the influence of the sun to the productions of the earth. It would be very wrong in schools to recom- pense only superiority of instruction and talent. The most flattering and eminent reward should be reserved for qualities which compose the so- cial virtues. 414 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. Submission, mildness, order, propriety, ma- ternal attentions, from the eldest pupils towards their youngest companions, politeness, and re- gard to their teachers, and kindness to servants, composed the whole of the good qualities re- quired in my establishment of Saint-Germain, to obtain the prize given to good character. This prize was an artificial rose, worn on Sundays and holidays, by the pupil who obtained it. The number of votes which become necessary to pre- vent this public homage, rendered to goodness and sweetness, from being granted unjustly, ap- peared to me to be as in the world the result of a general and perfectly free opinion. I esta- blished a scrutiny to obtain it. Four vases were placed on a table in the midst of my eldest class ; the names of four candidates, chosen from each class by the overseers and teachers, were written on the vases ; the ladies and scholars who had already obtained the prize, brought their votes, the directress had only the right of choosing among the candidates named. A servant belonging to the children traversed the room, shewing her white favour, and saying, THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 415 ' This is for her who is good to those who serve her> who chides nobody, and knows how to re- turn thanks." During the eight first years of the establish- ment of this prize, it produced the happiest re- sults in my classes. This reward was given every three months. The day after, I invited the former successful candidates, and the five new ones to a private breakfast. When a pupil who entered the house very young passed through the various classes, and obtained the rose in all, the last was given to her in a porce- lain vase. The only ornament of this vase was the date of the day on which she received it, written in letters of gold. No person was invited on the days on which I gave the rose. But finally, parents became so anxious for their daughters to obtain it before they left school, that for the two or three last years, this holiday became a day of grief, ex- citement mingled with it ; at each nomination of the successful candidates, tears and sobs were heard on all sides ; they wept at not having the desired majority. Friends united their tears to the weeping and sobbing of the children, and in 416 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. one of these melancholy scenes, I had the grief of seeing a young girl of sixteen faint away on learning that she had lost the prize, and remain thirty hours in the most alarming lethargy. I felt that I must suppress, in this prize, a quality which acted too highly on young hearts. In large assemblages, all which excites nervous emotions is dangerous ; an involuntary imitation renders them contagious. At this time I was appointed to superintend the Imperial House of Ecouen, and I was careful not to transport thither my scrutiny and roses. Pupils who dis- tinguished themselves by the same union of good qualities, were simply named by the ladies of twelve classes, and the reward, granted twice a-year, was the plantation of a tree in the park ; an inscription attached to each of these trees bore the name of her who planted it, and the date of the day on which she obtained that honour. The greatest punishment to a pupil at Ecouen, was the loss of her sash. The founder of this establishment ordered that the scholar who should be guilty of a serious wrong, should be thus degraded in the middle of the court-yard, THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 417 in. the presence of all the house. One only time I had to pronounce this punishment. The three hundred scholars, fifty ladies, and the servants, formed a square in the interior court of this fine gothic building ; the pupil was con- ducted to the place in which the cross of the Legion of Honour is drawn in pavement of black marble. I arrived, and took off her sash ; I felt that she required support ; her legs trembled, and she fainted in my arms. I sup- pressed the ceremony which rendered this punishment so grievous, as I modified the prize granted to character which had a too great value attached to it. The eyes of spectators, when there is a great number, possess an incal- culable power. I have quoted these instances, to shew how the wisdom of the instructress should manage the sensibility of early age. They should be neither exalted by reward, nor too much humbled by punishments. The most general punishment at Saint-Ger- main, as at Ecoueij, was that of dining apart at a separate table, which was called the wooden table, solely because it had no cloth. I ne- ver saw so simple a denomination produce so 418 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. great an effect. The scholar punished, was served like the others, but she ate not, and pass- ed her dinner-time in tears. A ticket, placed in a frame, indicated the fault which merited this punishment. They were not condemned to it, unless they had received twelve bad tickets in the course of a month. Each bad ticket was com- posed of twelve bad points. Good tickets led to advancement and the card of satisfaction. To put down faithfully the good and bad points, the teachers possessed a little book, which they were never without. One good point effaced two bad. The ladies were charged to shew pupils their situation on the book twice a- week. The first few days were always terribly overcharged with bad points. Their eyes then opened, arid the following were retrieved by good ones. The book taken out of the bag, and the pencil pre- pared, produced as much impression as the sight of the ancient ferula or hammer. For twenty years I made use of this simple means to govern my classes. In continually offering youth the means of repairing their errors, we are certain of inspiring them with generous intention. I must observe, that it requires an incessant attention THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 419 and watchfulness, to cause so simple a routine to be executed. Almost all mistresses would rather chide and exclaim ; but I found that si- lence and the sight of the book alone, were of more effect than words. Every week the scholars were placed accord- ing to the extent of their knowledge of gram- mar. The four who remained constantly at the head of their study-table for three months, at the first examination were certain of being passed into a superior class. There are few subjects on which a certain advancement excites not a great emulation. I have, notwithstanding, seen seve- ral remain for two successive years in the lowest place in their class, without making the slightest efforts to advance from it; I left them invariably to themselves, but I never abandoned them. Rewards are due to pupils who distinguish themselves ; friendly counsels, advice on the means of extricating themselves from a shameful situation, should be perseveringly given to timid, idle and frivolous children, in whom a tardy de- velopment often leads to unexpected reflection. I have seen in my classes several changes, so unexpected and complete, that they appeared 2 E 2 420 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION'. almost miraculous. But these changes seem less surprising in the eyes of persons used to distinguish in children variety of dispositions and characters. A young girl remained for three years in the lowest place in her class. Her carelessness was remarked in all her actions ; she was always ill combed, and ill dressed, and took her dancing lessons regularly without any one perceiving that she derived the slightest ad- vantage from them. On the day on which she completed her fourteenth year, this girl entered the breakfast-room very carefully dressed, ex- hibiting a difteient carriage, and an entirely novel expression in her countenance. A few days afterwards, I understood that her atten- tion to her lessons was unremitting, that there was not a word of reproach to her on her conduct. At the end of a month, she was raised three places, and in less than a year, she was ranked with honour among the most advanced pupils. Propriety, good behaviour and decorum, were all maintained without the slightest return to bad and long contracted habits. I consulted several physicians on so sudden a change ; they attributed it to a more rapid circulation of the THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 421 blood, caused by the development of this agef, and to the salutary impression on her mind, which the idea that she had entered her fifteenth year had made. As long as I live, I shall preserve the touching and melancholy recollection of a charming girl, whom I brought up from the age of eight years. Perfectly intelligent,, but slow at the age of eleven she spelt as at four. I took particular pains with her reading lesson ; I chose in- teresting books; her heart was touched; but even in wetting the pages of Paul and Virginia with her tears, she spelt syllable by syllable. I con- tinued her education, and the studies of gram- mar, writing, elocution and music. I made her recite all the fine scenes of Racine, and no longer made her read aloud. Her pro- gress was satisfactory in all the branches of her education. Finally, at the end of two years, I ordered her to mount the pulpit, to read during dinner. She took the book, and attracted ge- neral attention by the correctness of her read- ing ; nobody ever recited the part of Esther with more noble, touching and varied expression ; and throughout her life, unfortunately too short. 422 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. the justness of an enlightened spirit, joined to a most pious and elevated soul, placed her among the number of women to whom society rejoices to render a public and general homage. What is this barrier, raised by a fearful imagination ! Others will examine and declare, but this is certain, that it rather requires to be gently turned, than forcibly leaped over. In public education, the days should be occu- pied by an uninterrupted course of duties and amusements. Practice the art of introducing powerful incitements to emulation ; in pleasures, as in labour, let all amusements serve to the de- velopment of the mind, as to that of the body Abandon not the choice of games to the will of children ; they will introduce a license with which they would be quickly fatigued ; but let the ap- pearance of liberty be maintained ; pleasure exists not without it. Propose a new game ; choose and teach innocent pastimes : bring the reminiscences of your youth to assist the amuse- ments of childhood, as you give to its occupa- tions the experience of your studies. I will mention the methods which I employed, merely with a view of being useful to people who de- THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 423 vote themselves to cares which have occupied me for more than twenty years. Let rewards be united to important duties, as to the most simple occupations. In religious ceremonies, pupils with whom the music masters were satisfied, were chosen to sing the anthem, or at great solemnities, to execute motetti or chorusses. The altar of my chapel at Saint-Germain was without the balus- trades. Among the scholars who prepared to make their first communion, the chaplain chose those who best answered the Catechism, to hold the cloth on communion days ; the youngest possessors of the rose presented the consecrated bread at the ceremony of the dedication of my chapel. Those who had obtained good tickets were the only ones selected to go first in the procession, and strew flowers on the path of the Holy Sacrament, on the festival of Corpus Christi. To grant these honourable functions to pupils distinguished for their good conduct, is to unite, in the eyes of all, religious duties to social virtues. On Thursday I had always a concert; children 424 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. who could execute the most trifling piece on the piano-forte were listened to with as much in- terest as the clever scholar, who rapidly ran over the keys. The reward of both was equally six good points, registered in the book of the music mistresses; among whom, as among their pupils, these inspections excited an emulation, which quickly produced me great success in this part of education. Seats placed in a particular order, and two more lamps lighted in a class and behold a fete for happy youth ! On Sunday they danced to the piano ; this instrument has now become the habitual orchestra in friendly parties. By causing the music and dancing to be well exe- cuted, this amusement usefully confirmed the lessons in both these accomplishments. In winter, at Saint-Germain, when snow and ice prevented the scholars from walking, and out of door amusements, I passed the hours of recrea- tion, in making them repeat the tragedy of Esther. In like manner, I made them learn some of the comedies of Madame de Genlis, in French, English, or Italian ; her theatre hav~ THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 425 ing been translated into both these latter lan- guages. The exact pronunciation of French is ob- tained by reciting verse ; and nothing familiarises us with the use of foreign languages so much as repeating dialogues, and dramatic scenes in them. The reward of these exercises, at once useful and amusing, was a representation of Esther. It always took place on Monday or Shrove Tues- day, and was repeated instead of the balls and amusements of the Carnival. This chef d'ceuvre of Racine, composed for the royal house of St. Cyr, was represented by pupils for three succes- sive winters. Racine has so perfectly calculated the effect of his flowing and pompous lines, re- cited by pure and innocent voices ; and the part of Esther was so well performed by the girl who undertook it, that this piece excited a species of interest which it necessarily loses in public theatres. These representations were spoken too much of; every body wished to see them, and it was found bad to admit any other specta- tors than the inmates of the house. I thought to tread the most noble and honourable path, but I was mistaken ; moralists of the present 426 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. time are still more severe than those of the age of Louis XIV. Public opinion will be obeyed ; I suppressed these representations. I must, not- withstanding, mention a circumstance which was evident to me ; it is not a blameable vanity, much less a dangerous coquetry, which leads young girls to distinguish themselves in these exer- cises. The idle, heavy, and inconsequential all, in short, who were unfortunately too dis- posed to deliver themselves up blindly to the vices of the world, never merited the honour of playing the parts of Esther, Elise, and Aha- suerus. In acknowledging that it is equally wise and right to suppress for ever all theatrical re- presentations in girls' schools, I owe this tribute to the virtues of youth, and it is with great satisfaction that I render them this homage. Division into the classes is indispensable ; a hundred pupils seem to indicate four classes of five-and-twenty. With regard to children from six to eight years of age, they are wholly occupied in the lowest class in learning to read, to form the first cha- racters of writing, and in fables selected from those which are most calculated for childhood. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 427 It is evident, as J. J. Rousseau observes, that children comprehend imperfectly the most simple things ; but in proportion as their understanding is formed, it recalls that which they learnt in their most tender age. Samplers, hemming and overcasting, should occupy children. Reading lessons should be short and repeated. To teach five-and-twenty children to read and write quickly, three mis- tresses are indispensable. Learning by heart is the surest way of know- ing the dates and great events of history. I have tried argumentative reading, followed by extracts, made by the pupils. Those who pur- sued this method were not highly successful. To facts learnt by heart, we should unite the care of interrogating scholars on the things thus acquired, obliging them to construct phrases themselves, without confining them to those learnt, which they may abridge. What signifies it whether they repeat their lesson word for word, if they relate the facts clearly, and the precise date is fixed in their memory ? Extracts are generally dry and uninteresting, it is true ; yet they may be of use ; but even 428 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. their, they can only be compared to canvass mounted on a frame ;. reading will give the facts more at length; which in the same manner may be compared to the shaded silks which cover the surface of the canvass. We should keep away from classes the nu- merous, we may say innumerable, works com- posed for the use of youth. Whatever may be the purity of the morals which they contain, they always consist of little amusing stories, and their charm prevents a taste for more serious reading. Books of history, and even Tele- machus, will be seldom read by a young person who possesses Adele et Theodore., and Les VeU- Ues du Chateau, &c. From this numerous li- brary, composed for children in France, England and Germany, I select only stories written for the earliest age, abridgements of natural his- tory, and travels. What I here submit is the result of experience. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 429 IV. It is necessary to bring up youth to the order and cares which prepare women for the duties of housekeeping. I have remarked that the most useful thing is to give them the care of their drawers ; but you must request the honour of having a key. In France, little girls are scarcely able to as- sume these cares before the age of twelve or thirteen ; to deliver them to them sooner, is to make them contract a habit of disorder, which ceases in time to annoy them. Until thirteen, the arrangement of others should strike them, and give them a taste for order. Visits to the drawers of the elder scholars should be made in the most unexpected manner, that the mis- chievous foresight of youth may not guard it against surprises. The chemises, frocks and stockings of scholars, from six years old to twelve or thirteen, should be in the foul press, and their parcels of clean linen given to them twice a- week. 430 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. Others, from thirteen to the time of their de- parture, should receive it, count and set it down, collect it and tie it up ; and carry the keys of their drawers or trunks at the end of a little chain, attached to their girdle. To take care of your things early, and to keep them in order, is a valuable habit to con- tract ; and to this end we should deprive the richest children of the services of domestics. I know very well, that arrived at the moment of having such, they will disengage themselves from all those little duties which often annoyed them, and for which they received chidings and reprimands ; but their liking for order will be esta- blished,they will not bear to see confusion among their clothes, which will be better sewed, &c. and we know, generally, that we can neither com- mand nor judge well, except in a situation, or in regard to an art, of which we have practised or studied the rules. Finally, if the inconstancy of fortune, examples of which have been so multiplied in our days, precipitates a woman from the state of competence or riches, which she enjoyed, into total destitution, accustomed THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 431 to order, economy and propriety, she will never fall into the horrors of misery ; if only a humble pallet remains to her, it will be decent. For several years I have seen women whom for- tune had equally ill-treated ; and I have remarked the difference which in similar situations was established between the automatons, accus- tomed from their infancy to be followed, served and dressed, and those whom a better education secured from the disorders of poverty. I entered the hovel of a Creole, formerly possess- ing four hundred thousand livres a-year, a lady of the old court, and who, perhaps, in her youth attracted all eyes in the gallery of Versailles, by the richness of her apparel and jewels, and em- balmed the air as she walked with the perfumes of which she made use. This female I saw, old, ugly and dirty, lodged in a little attic in Paris. Time had brought on her age and wrinkles, and these defects were added to her ugliness, and the disgust which her person and habitation inspired. She was dressed in dirty linen, and a gown full of slits; her skin was discoloured with dirt, and her bed shewed that she slept in it 432 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. without taking the pains to make it. A table in the middle of the room was covered with dishes and bottles, which had remained from the pre- ceding day's dinner; a cup, in which she was going to take her chocolate, she had put on the table with her false hair, combs, and a broken bottle which contained a little huile antique, a taste for fashion never quitting women who con- sider neither their age nor their situation in the world. I have also seen, with the delightful sentiment which unites with humanity, a wo- man ruined by the multiplied events of our re- volution, resist the approaches of misery by honourable effort, abandon the eclat of luxury, but still observe the greatest propriety. Her chamber contained little furniture, and there was not a single article which possessed any value ; yet I remained with pleasure in her modest dwelling. A deal table, well kept, sur- passed in appearance the woods of the Indies which have not been so carefully attended to; white curtains, a well swept floor, sprinkled with fresh water and some vases, containing flowers newly gathered, still perfumed the air THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 433 . which she breathed; the work-basket, placed near the straw bed of the proprietor of this simple dwelling, united to present to all eyes the invaluable advantage of industry and ar- rangement. Formerly rich, she now lived upon the labour of her hands ; and I have carried her very fine embroideries, which were quickly exe cuted, and imagined, with that good taste which so much enhances the value of work. These two pictures which I have drawn, are most scrupulously true. The scholars of Ecouen, arrived at the age in which we begin to value education, learned why I obliged them to keep their clothes in order* and to sweep their rooms ; and far from re- proaching me with the punishments which af- flicted them in their youth, they thanked me for this salutary custom. It must be confessed though, that the cares of a house cannot be acquired by practice in a school ; we can only give the theory, and form the judgment on this important subject ; the wisest institutions can- not remedy this inconvenience. It is with her parents alone, that a girl can give herself to the details necessary to be known, to keep a 2 F 434 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. house ; and the sage foresight of a mother, in con- fiding cares to youth, is essentially to be con- sulted. Madame de Maintenon, in requiring the in- mates of St. Cyr to go in procession to fetch their dishes, and place them with their own hands on the table of the refectory, at the din- ner hour, surely had it in view only to dimi- nish the pride of young girls of distinction, edu- cated in this superb establishment. To carry dishes ready cooked from one place to another, can teach nothing in the administration of house- hold affairs ; and how many things must be learnt, to keep even a poor, not to mention a competent or opulent house! To make their beds, sweep their chambers and class-rooms, even to do the service of the table, are, I think, things which we should oblige pu- pils to understand ; their frocks and linen should also be all made by themselves. I have tried to teach my girls to wash and iron ; I even thought, one year, of making them pickle vegetables for winter, make preserves, &c. But I quickly re- pented of trusting muslins to their hot and ill managed irons, and fruits, sugar, &c. to their THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 435 inevitable desire to taste. I do not say that they cannot be employed in these sorts of things ; I represent with truth that whieh I tried, and in which I failed of success. I think., that this kind of instruction cannot be given until eighteen. Accomplishments employ an immense time and an education must be commenced very early for a pupil to possess them in an emi- nent degree, and at the same time have her mind, heart and memory cultivated. It is dis- tressing to think, that whole hours must be perseveringly employed to teach performing per- fectly on the harp and piano ; yet I can boast of obtaining great success with all scholars who remained with me eight or ten years. All who only remained two or three, departed with some acquirements, but they were still far from giving a just idea of the whole of my plan of education. Unfinished and finished educations, are in the proportion of forty five to fifty, which must necessarily prevent justice being done to an establishment in which parents, because they pay, generally shorten the time of instruc- tion as much as they can. The institutions of 2 F 2 436 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. princes are alone exempt from these serious in- conveniences. v. We often meet with happy visionaries, who, in their dreams, pursuing the beau ideal morally as well as physically, think that youth should he actuated by the love of right alone, and blame all rewards granted in classes ; surely their eyes are shut to the actions of men, for emulation, the hope of rewards and honours, have never failed to lead them to great actions. Young ladies' boarding - schools in France, owing to the spirit of rivalry produced by a great competition, have perhaps, carried the pomp of their examinations too far ; but the severe critiques of our papers on this abuse are also carried too far ; it was easy to repress it by a single hint from the ministry charged with public instruction, and we should not have given to foreigners every false idea of these establishments, in which interest, combined THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 437 with principle, generally causes religion and morality to prevail. In every institution I had great difficulty in maintaining the moderate degree of my punish- ments. Music mistresses, impatient at a sonata badly played, would often wish to apply my greatest punishment for this offence, which was, to dine alone at a table without a cloth, that for this simple reason bore the imposing denomina- tion of the wooden table. I opposed myself to these desires, and acquired from some the cha- racter of a very weak instructress. Punishments in ancient French monasteries were so unreasonable, that a single example may give a just idea of them. I wish I could transmit the following anecdote with the simple and noble grace which theMarechale de Beauvau imparted to every thing she related ; it was from her I heard it. Educated at Port-Royal, the Marechale de Beauvau, daughter of the Duke de Rohan Chabot, then six years of age, in this house found herself associated with the daughters of the most illustrious families in France. One of them was so unfortunate as to steal a piece of 438 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. six francs; she was only live years old. Ani- mated by the strong desire of eradicating for ever the principle of so base a vice, the nuns as- sembled, and condemned the young boarder to be hanged. A pulley is fixed to the ceiling of an apartment, a basket is suspended to it by means of a cord, and the little girl is soon drawn up to the ceiling ; the nuns and scholars marched under the basket, singing a De Profundis ; the Marechale de Beauvau passing in her turn, raised her head, and cried to her companion, Es tu morte 9 Pas encore., replied the little un- fortunate, through the reeds of her basket. Thirty years after this ridiculous and blameable scene, the Marechale often met with the little girl that was hanged, then a duchess at the court of Versailles, and never failed to accost her with Es tu morte 9 to have the pleasure of still hear- ing her artless Pas encore. How much mischief is there in such a pu- nishment ! Who would believe that at that time the good Rollin was writing tales for the scholars of Port-Royal ? (these stories unfortu- nately are lost). Assuredly he did not make the laws. THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. 439 If punishments arc made use of, they should be appropriated carefully, A single child is ge- nerally punished enough for a whole class. The art of punishing with judgment is wanting in preceptors, governesses, and even passionate pa- rents, who conclude by striking their children, and often by giving mischievous blows to those who are most dear to them. * Rewards given with perseverance and equity, gradually acquire the highest influence, and in schools, honour takes part in them. I have, how- ever, learnt by experience, that when a recom- pense is so marked as to attract the notice of the world, it attains too great a value. I would not, therefore, recommend as a reward of character, * I have already said, that they (preceptors) should never be actuated by passion, temper, or caprice. This is one of the greatest defects in matters of education, because it never es- capes the penetrating eyes of scholars, but renders all the good qualities of the master almost nugatory, while it takes away nearly all authority from his advice and remonstrance. What is still more vexatious, those who are the most passionate, are the least aware of it, and will often receive with a bad grace the communications of those who warn them of it ; which is, however, perhaps the kindest office a friend can do them. (Rollin, Truite" des Etudes.) 440 THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION. the use of the rose, as given in my establish- ment every three months, by result of a general scrutiny. This reward of good character, or mildness, had too much effect ; girls of fourteen or fifteen, not obtaining it, and fearing to dis- please their parents, or be removed from the establishment, melted into tears, or fainted; and on the day of this distribution, laces were cut in all corners of my principal class-room. So great a sensation excited in young hearts appeared to me to be dangerous, and I became alarmed at it. It should at least be remarked, that I have shewn no undue enthusiasm in my institutions. I think that the prize of mildness and good character may be identified with that which is due to pre-eminence, since these qualities are found naturally united ; docility and equality of temper being the true steps which conduct youth to success. If we meet with a young person of great sweetness of temper, but with- out capacity, we should discover some par- ticular manner of rewarding her. FINIS. 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWE1 LOAN DEPT. roiD -4PM H9I01iSC NOV 91301 LD21A-50m-2,'71 (P2001slO)476 A-32 General Library University of California Berkeley LD 21 wyw :;:v> AM YC 74744 U.C. BERKELEY LIBRA , ' *4L *j3o:t": &%*m