BOOK III.

CHAPTER I.

OF THE HABITS AT TWO YEARS OLD.

"Children forget injunctions and rules of conduct; it is necesary, therefore, to make them perform indispensable duties, until they form habits independent of Memory."-LOCKE.

It is necessary to take advantage of the character of infancy, while it is in its purity. In a short time every thing is adulterated, every thing is changed; we can no longer distinguish what is natural, from what is acquired; the voluntary from the constrained movement. Children

soon feel a kind of shame at their singularities: they conceal or repress the impressions which they have no hope of seeing participated; and they look in our faces in order to discover what they ought to feel. The principal traits of infancy, however, are not so soon effaced as we think, and the traces of them remain unperceived. One may live a long time with a little savage who is in a degree outwardly civilized; but in order to know him well, it is necessary to observe him before he has made any advances in civilization.

man.

This study is less easy than it appears to be: before the child knows how to speak, every thing seems confused in his existence. His sense of perception, that by which he connects and compares ideas, differs from ours in the highest degree; but whatever may be its nature, we know it not; and it presents in the child, as well as in animals, a problem at once interesting, and impossible to resolve. When afterwards we converse freely with him, und ho might serve to enlighten us himself, that which distin guishes him from us is no longer so striking; and the child, in appearance at least, already too much resembles There is then a short interval more instructive than all others to the observer, that, in which genuine infancy exists, and unveils itself; it is the nge between two and four years. At that time the child is not yet upon his guard, and his natural instincts, still in their original vigor, seem to be even powerfully developed; actions the most numerous and diversified serve to interpret them. Our social state is as yet but little comprehended by the child, and he might inhabit another world as well as ours. To see how he insensibly adopts our ideas; how his will, violent and impatient, gradually submits to the yoke of example and of reason; how his young faculties, joined to the dawning light of conscience, contribute, each one following its natural course, to lay in him the foundation of morality, is a curious examination, fitted to reveal to us an admirable dispensation of Providence, a design that we have only to conceive of in order to respect it.

Following the order of time, we shall first consider the period when the soul has as yet no control over itself; when the will, although apparently active, is truly passive; since, yielding to the strongest inclination, it renders obedience only to a blind impulse. In this state we gov ern children through the medium of their habits, the natural effects of our care and regularity. This means, which

is gentle, although a little mechanical, ought unquestionably not to be alone employed; but how shall we avoid making use of it? Habits are the necessary result of education, for we cannot prevent them from becoming formed, except by an unequal and capricious conduct-the example of which would be infallibly imitated.

A remark, which may seem a little paradoxical, is, that the younger the child, the more his habits appertain to his moral nature, to his soul. As he does not yet act by his own power, he can only be accustomed to anticipate. He waits for a certain succession of events, and his habits partake only of fears and hopes: it is, consequently, over the desires, the tastes, and the temper that their influence is exerted; and we do not see the little beings performing a routine of actions void of thought, so as to give the idea of mechanism. It is but a little later, when activity displays itself, and the pleasure attached to certain actions begins to operate, that the soul can in any degree remain uninfluenced by the movements which had at first gov erned it. Habits, then, have not, in earliest infancy, the inconvenience which appears most inevitably attached to them, that of benumbing the faculties; and the extreme pliability of children remains with them long enough to enable us to mould them to circumstances.

There is, then, in the education of infancy, judiciously conducted, an advantage, secondary it is true, but almost impossible to supply, that of accustoming the child to fulfil his duties, without thinking of that multitude of actions which merit not to be thought of, and which, however, have their utility. In giving him habits of care to perform certain obligations, in some degree essential, — such as those imposed by our physical nature, and the tacit agreement of society, is in effect to relieve the soul from this care for the future. The more we take advantage of the instinct of imitation in relation to this, the more we

shall spare ourselves the chagrin of having to prescribe as duties, things which are not so, and which, notwithstanding, are almost indispensable. This is to render to the pupil an invaluable service. What embarrassment! what awkwardness! what loss of time and thought, are suffered even among men, by doubts with regard to the propriety of the smallest acts!

This same faculty of association which facilitates to the child the acquirement of language, gives birth to habits. When the course of his life is very regular, his desires succeed each other in an almost settled order, awakening in him the image of certain objects, which have become necessary to his enjoyment. No image is solitary in his mind the frame-work, the appendages are not separated from the principal subject, but make part of the idea that he forms of it. I have seen a child of nine months old weep bitterly, and refuse his breakfast, because the cup and saucer and the spoon were not in their accustomed position. By taking advantage of this disposition in little children, we might easily give them the love of order. The desire of seeing every thing ranged in its place, becomes natural to them, if we but manifest it in the slightest degree ourselves. When we think of the bitter regrets which the absence of orderly habits brings in its train, we ought the more assiduously to endeavor to instil them into children. A vague idea of duty is associated with them and duty is itself perhaps but moral order of the highest kind.

The love of neatness has the same source: a spot is a derangement, a disorder. The natural disgust which is associated with it adds the repugnance of the senses to that of the mind. Modesty is also of the same family, and there is nothing easier than to inspire in children that instinctive modesty, which, when stripped of design, is but the more innocent.

This last object, too much neglected in early infancy, is, notwithstanding, very important. At the risk of appearing absurd, I will say that it is especially so for young boys. Custom alone so severely imposes the law of decorum upon young girls, that, unless from singular neg lect, their manners in early life are not exposed to any danger. But it is not the same with regard to men; schools are a peril to them, and the manner in which the child is affected by bad examples, depends entirely upon his first impressions. Mothers ought, therefore, to be attentive, they ought to inspect the nurse, and not permit her to associate in the mind of the child the idea of pleasure with indecency. The care of his own person should be confided to him as early as possible, and he should attend to its requirements in solitude. From that time he often acquires a modesty apprehensive and almost severe; but how can we fear the excess of a quality, which is so nearly allied to dignity of soul?

There are sentiments of morality apparently of the most elevated kind, which proceed from a simple association of ideas, and consequently from habit: such is respect for the property of another. The child lives much through the medium of his eyes; the objects which he constantly sees about the person that he loves, make part of herself in his memory; the clothes, the little appendages which she uses, are of great consequence in his estimation; he thinks of her accompanied by her attributes, as we see the heathen gods; and when he observes that she alone makes use of these objects, he is persuaded that they become a part of her. He is even jealous of them for her sake, guards them like a faithful dog, and prevents others from approaching them. I have seen a little girl of eigh teen months old, who would weep if any one touched the basket of her nurse, in walking. One day, when the same child saw a woman whom she did not know, carry a dress