CHAPTER X.

OF THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION OF CHILDREN, AND OF

ITS PROGRESS.

"C'est merveille combien Platon se montre soigneux eu ses lois, de la gayeté et passe-tems de la jeunesse, et combien il s'arrete a leurs courses, jeux, chansons, saults et danses: desquelles il dit que l'antiquité a donné la conduite et le patronage aux dieux mêmes."

MONTAIGNE, Essais.

At the moment of commencing the education of mothers of families, I perceive that their solicitude is awakened. They inquire what instruction I intend for their sons? how, and by whom this instruction will be imparted to them? shall they go to college? learn Greek and Latin, mathematics and chemistry? shall they follow the ancient or the new methods? In the present state of their minds, all is perilous, ignorance as well as science, the austerity of masters as well as the laxity of principles,-all, even teaching which threatens to introduce into the schools the violent doctrines by which society is divided.

Before answering these questions, it is important to ascertain the changes which have taken place at the same time in the discipline of families and of colleges. The times are not very remote when the severity of fathers encouraged the severity of the teachers; the pupil then saw nothing around him but severe countenances, and hands armed with rods. Everywhere there existed the abuse of force, and the forgetfulness of humanity. All the forms of

despotic governments, and even its infamous punishments, were applied to education. Colleges had then official floggers, and thus an executioner was introduced among the classes of children.

But at the present day all is changed: rods are no longer scattered about our schools; the gifts of sovereigns no longer serve to procure instruments of torture.* The rod and starvation have ceased to be the moral powers of education, and the professors, who are now chosen from among fathers of families, no longer treat our children in the same way as criminals are treated in the public square.

The source of these reforms springs altogether from the ameliorations in domestic life. In proportion as paternal severity has diminished, scholastic cruelties have ceased. Under our new regime, the tyrannical power of fathers has decreased, like that of kings, of which it was the image; but what we have lost in despotism we have regained in happiness. Husbands are no longer despots, kings are no longer absolute, and fathers deign to love their children! Is it, then, so great a misfortune that austerity should disappear, and that we should find in its stead the laugh, the games, and the songs of love?

Would you wish to enjoy all the delights of so sweet a scene, enter the garden of the Tuileries on a summer's day at noon. A few solitary loungers appear here and there, and are soon lost sight of in the avenues; but, then, on all sides are seen groups of children, commodiously and gracefully dressed, running, dancing, singing, or skipping with the lively and simple grace which belongs only to our early years. Charming creatures! they fill with joy these long avenues, in which they appear near their mo

*Louis XI. having placed his name at the head of the subscribers to the college of Navarre, his subscription was appropriated to the purchase of rods.

thers, like happy souls beneath the light of the Elysian fields.

Ah! enjoy these moments so sweet, while you may. Good mothers! Providence of your dear children! allow beneficent nature to develope their delicate limbs-others will soon adorn their minds and cultivate their intellects, but it is your charge to arm them for the world which already calls for them. From beneath these refreshing shades listen for a moment to that continued noise, which might be compared to the distant rolling of the ocean; it is the city which growls; it is its voice which threatens you. Alas! poor children. Yet a little while, and they will be cast upon the tempestuous world of which you hear the formidable agitation!

CHAPTER XI.

THE FATHER.

66

La puissance paternelle est devenue amie de tyrannique qu elle etoit."

ETIENNE JOUY.

It has been asked why we do not call upon the father for the education of the child. Our answer is plain: viz. that in the present state of things, and with a few rare exceptions, the concurrence of the father is almost impossible. How seldom can he find time to watch over these

young souls! Has he not duties to fulfil, and a livelihood to gain? Is he not a lawyer, merchant, artist, or working man; and more than all this, is he not a citizen? How, then, amidst the worry of affairs, and the ambitious calls of fortune, can he be sufficiently at liberty to give to his children those daily instructions and examples which alone can raise them to virtue? The most difficult thing on earth is not merely to do good, but to inspire others, and to cause them to love it. Can man compete with woman in the privilege of patience, and the forbearance of love?

The influence of the father is certainly a good thing when it is good! but how rare are the instances in which it can be exerted in all its plenitude. Time and inclination are the two elements which are wanting. It is likewise essentially variable. The woman belongs exclusively to her family; the man belongs to his family and to the community. Every form of government modifies the duties of the father, alters his ideas, and imposes upon him opinions which produce actions. Thus, at the earliest period of the world, in the time of the patriarchs, for instance, the three chief powers of society rested on the head of the father; he was at the same time pontiff, judge, and king.

A more advanced state of civilisation deprived the father of these three powers, to bestow them upon the laws. At Athens, at Sparta, at Rome, he was no more than a citizen. Paternal despotism was modified without being softened. At a subsequent period the citizen disappeared, and the feudal power arose. All the power of the father was merged into that of his lord: he was no longer either judge, pontiff, or citizen; he was master and vassal; master of the weak, vassal to the strong; always oppressing or oppressed; his tyranny extended even to his family, which he separated and lopped off, leaving only one

branch to the tree, in order that it might rise the higher; giving all to the eldest son,-fortune, honour, greatness, titles; and leaving the others as their heritage, misery, or that anticipated death which is termed celibacy. Thus feudal despotism rendered the father unnatural. Tyranny still governed the world, but it was no longer, as in the time of the patriarchs, tempered by paternal tenderness. It was a tyranny of the master to the servant, by which the family tended to individualise itself in the first-born, without any other end than the pride of the family name, and the splendour of its head.

Such is an epitome of the history of paternity on the earth. Each epoch has a type which represents it. In the heroic period, Agamemnon and his daughter; in the days of the patriarchs, Abraham and his son; in the days of liberty, Brutus and the scaffold. At a later period the sacrifice continues. Abraham no longer raises his knife upon the mountain, Brutus no longer turns away his face from the bleeding head of his son, the sword ceases to strike, but the father still strikes; ostracism enters into the family, and the iniquities of the rights of the eldest born obliterate at one blow two of the softest sentiments of our nature, filial love and fraternal tenderness.

And during this period what becomes of the women? they lament, they deplore, they understand nothing of these ferocities of faith and policy; their piety so tender, their patriotism so devoted, are humbled before Abraham and Brutus; the scaffold and the pile are to them nothing but what they are in fact, barbarities and from their soul the sublime cry escapes, which a great poet has repeated, God would never have required this sacrifice from a mother!

At the present day all is changed: despotism has disappeared from the family as well as from the state. The