CHAPTER IV. .CONTINUATION OF THE THIRD YEAR.-ON TRUTH. NOTHING, perhaps, in children, is more interesting to us than their progress in speaking: here, every thing is new and characteristic; every thing is closely connected with their moral character. Even from his cradle the child has felt what it was to love, to hope, to desire: he has exercised his organs and his strength; yet his progress has been so gradual, that we have hardly been able to trace its different steps, and we imagine it much the same in all children. But as soon as they can speak, every thing becomes clearer: their impressions, their thoughts, have each a distinguishing symbol; and we remember and repeat their words. It seems as if a light were at once thrown upon the mind and character, which enables us to see and understand what we have to act upon. This knowledge is most essential; but it is not to be acquired without much pains and study. Children, though so ingenuous and simple, do not always adhere to the truth. They use dissimulation, if we may so express it, innocently, and often display a singular mixture of cunning and artlessness. Sympathy, that instinct by means of which they have already made so much progress, tends rather to deceive them as to the use of words. They imagine themselves created. rather to please others, or to obtain the gratification of their own wishes, than to speak the truth, of which, indeed, they have little idea. Why should a child be accurate in his relation of facts? What does the past historical truth signify to him? His recollection of it is very imperfect. The only thing of importance to him is to be caressed and loved, and to obtain what he desires. It is in vain to ask him what he has been doing: he will say only what he thinks will please you; and therefore the most natural answer in a child of two years old would be, that he has been doing whatever he imagines you would wish him to have been doing. - This is also the case among savages; a traveller finds it very difficult to obtain from them the most simple information; so much are they occupied in considering what his interest, or rather their own, may be in the question, that he cannot even learn the road to any place, every one to whom he addresses himself giving a different answer. Some degree of artifice seems almost natural to children; even after they have learnt to avoid falsehood in speaking, they will practise it in their actions: for actions become lies when their object is to deceive. A child of eighteen months old will carefully hide a little basket which he has long coveted, and then come and settle himself quietly by his mother: he wishes to be, and to appear, calm; but too much agitated to succeed, he provokes her attention by loading her with caresses. A heightened colour, and an expression at once tender and confusedthe very excess of his coaxing all tend to betray him. Whence arises this increased affection? For these demonstrations of it are not altogether insincere. Does the child feel the value of the tie which binds him to his mother the more, from expecting an approaching rupture? Does he pity her, imagining that he has deprived her of something very precious? Or does he give vent to his inward emotion by these outward expressions of affection? What a depth of mystery there is in the heart even of an infant! Another child will borrow a fan, or any thing else which may have attracted his fancy, from a visiter; and then, hoping that she will forget to reclaim it, will bring her a succession of flowers, cast off toys, or a hundred other things, offering them to her with the most eager politeness. Or he will ask for a cake, or for the enjoyment of some pleasure for his little brother. Some children will avoid kissing their nurse in their mother's presence, so soon do they acquire the key to the maternal heart! There is, perhaps, hardly any thing more. attractive than the graceful displays of character, the lively and amusing scenes to which these little manœuvres give rise. In little girls especially, their artifices have so much grace, the caresses which accompany them are so winning, that we find it difficult to consider them in a sufficiently serious light: we laugh at their stratagems perhaps even relate them before the children themselves; and in so doing are hardly aware what a fatal error we are committing. Such means of obtaining any object, however amusing they may be, should be treated as what they really are, proofs of artifice for there is no safeguard so great as perfect sincerity; and it is even more necessary to women than to men. Living in dependence, expected to render an account of their conduct to him who is their earthly guide and master, if this account be not faithful, he is no longer able to direct them; they elude obedience, and all the relations of life are confounded. But of what importance to every one is truth of character! The influence of this quality on every branch of morality is so great and so well known, that it is unnecessary to enlarge upon it. Falsehood and vice are always found in close connection. We first learn to dissemble because we have done wrong, and then continue to do wrong because we have learnt to dissemble. No one will dispute these assertions; they are, indeed, generally acknowledged maxims. Every one admits that sincerity is the guarantee of every other virtue. By obliging your child, therefore, to adhere strictly to the truth, you secure his moral existence: an existence of far more importance than his physical one; an existence, the loss of which destroys our peace of mind, and reduces us to the most humiliating state of uneasiness. Nor can any one relieve his mind by imparting this secret trouble, the bitter fruit of want of sincerity; he must be silent as to the pain he feels at never being believed, never trusted, never placed in the honourable post of confidence. It is a state of mind that can never be disclosed, and the vain pretences resorted to for disguise, only serve to betray its existence. Conscientious truthfulness is not of spontaneous growth; it has to be implanted; and it cannot be implanted and cultivated too early. In order to do this, we must begin by making children understand, as soon as possible, that their words must agree, not with their own wishes, or those of others, but with facts; a thing which they would seldom discover if left to themselves. In relating to them the circumstances |