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nately in their storehouse, but are ranged in order; and this order has been denominated the natural association of ideas. This association is first classed under the head of time; so that simultaneous events are, as it were, all placed together, and successive ones in the order of their succession. Recollections are next associated under the head of place, so that objects more or less contiguous are connected together, and mutually recall each other. As soon as we hear the name of a district, a hamlet, a town, a country, all that we have heard about it immediately rushes into the mind, and we have only to make our selection. Another natural association is formed by resemblance-another by contrast; so that, for instance, cowardice recalls the idea of courage; liberality, of avarice; and light, of darkness, &c.
There is yet another law which governs the association of our ideas, and which is the fruit of our own volition. If you frequently repeat a given series of thoughts, or even of words, memory will give it back to you in the same order. You may thus attach recollections to any object or subject at will. You have only to fix them frequently on that object, and you will afterwards never see or think of it without its accessories also presenting themselves to your mind. This voluntary association of ideas, as well as the preceding ones which nature has formed for us, may be of infinite service in education.
When we speak of the spontaneous reproduction of these by the memory, we do not mean to exclude the concurrence of the will, which may make its selection from the multitude of recollections simultaneously presented to it; but it is often so idle, that it floats along the stream, some new object attracting and retaining it, till another arises and captivates it in turn.
The case is quite different when memory, which is subject to man's free-will, is ordered to arrest its action and only to reproduce what he requires of it-it obeys. What is most remarkable in this, is the power
that we have of ascertaining whether memory serves us faithfully; and of saying to ourselves “that is the very thing ;" for here we see that there is comparison in all our reminiscences. We
before our eyes.
compare the idea which memory has just presented to us with the same idea as we formerly possessed it. The
preceding one had then never been effaced, or how could the comparison and the recognition be effected? It was only out of sight; and all we had to do was to search for it and place it again before our mind's eye. Further, whenever we seek to recall a thing, we have at that very moment its image in our mind, but it is so faint, so indistinct, that we cannot discern its features. At last, by a mental exertion which cannot be expressed in words, a ray of light streams in upon this image, and we instantly recognise it to be the one that was mislaid and that we were in quest of. At another time, the object itself is
We think we recognise in it an old acquaintance, but we have forgotten its name; or we know not when and where we have seen it before. We search after that which we would fain remember. Sometimes our efforts are unavailing, sometimes we succeed, and the past steps forth to unite itself with the present. The two friends meet and recognise each other. The meeting and recognition are effected within us and by us; and he who recognises must have already known. By recollection we only bring to light that which was in us, but laid aside, and in the shade.
Memory is indispensable to the mind in all its functions; without its aid the mind cannot think, cannot even have a clear perception of the objects transmitted by the senses; for clearness, in this lowest exercise of thought, requires comparison, and comparison must be based on recollection. Teachers then may well insist on the cultivation of memory; but we ask, in the name of childhood, that they should cultivate the memory of things as their object, and the memory of words only as the means of attaining it.
Imagination. I take this word in its narrowest signification, in order not to confound its province with that of the other intellectual powers. Imagination invents; that is its attribute. In order to invent, it makes new combinations out of the
materials supplied by experience-for it cannot create. There is but one Creator in the universe.
Sometimes it manifests itself in the fine arts, in poetry, music, painting, &c. Here it seeks to produce the beautiful, which in reality is nothing more than the harmony of all the several parts of a composition. Imagination then works under the direction of reason, and when faithful to the inspirations thus received, rises to the noblest and most sublime conceptions. But it often, alas! hires itself out to the service of the bad passions, or of mere frivolity, and thus desecrates itself; for though it may still produce what is new and agreeable, it has lost what is truly beautiful.
Imagination has another field; that of inventions in the vast domain of physics, for the supply of the wants of life, the furtherance of its pleasures, and the advancement of science. Formerly it invented writing, then printing, and more recently lithography. We owe to it the power which decomposes light into its seven primitive colours; also the microscope and telescope, which bring us news from two worlds which are inaccessible to the naked eye. But time would fail for the enumeration of useful inventions. Science has preceded, and chance may have assisted, but imagination has always combined the means.
It shows itself quite in early infancy; for see how the child ranges his little soldiers, his toy houses, or sheep; how he delights in his new combinations, and then calls his mother that she may share the pleasure with him.
Imagination, like every other faculty with which the Creator has endowed human nature, should be cultivated in education, but it must be subjected to severe discipline, for it is ever liable to err. It often indulges in day dreams, and losing sight of realities, engages in the pursuit of vain phantoms, to the injury of the dreamer, of those around him, and sometimes of society at large. Under such circumstances it has been justly styled “la folle du logis."
Imagination, if uncurbed, may sometimes also form seductive images, which, while they captivate the will, corrupt the heart. But, on the other hand, it may paint
in lively colours those which elevate and ennoble the mind, and strengthen it in the path of duty.
2. The necessity of Cultivating the Intellectual Faculties
Our pupils, coming at seven years age
to our regular lessons in the mother-tongue, have already attained to a very remarkable degree of intellectual developement. In order to appreciate it, you should contemplate them in the cradle, from whence they started, and you will wonder how, in so short a time, they should have journeyed so far. Their mind was then a blank page, on which nothing had yet been written. Their faculties were, as the word implies, mere powers; and now they have become most active ones, and have made great acquisitions in point of general knowledge, of morality, and even of religious notions. Listen to them while conversing freely on objects within their reach or which interest them, you will thus ascertain their progress, and will be convinced that the greatest intellectual developement takes place in the first seven
of life. Nevertheless, if you contemplate the object which is placed before the novice in life, you will see that a long career lies before him. He has as yet received no methodical instruction on the subject which it is most needful he should know. He has only been supplied with scattered fragments, for the most part casually given, and he himself has culled while on the wing, as it were,
that which happened to strike or to interest him. True it is, that in spite of the incoherence of the lessons he has received, or that he has given to himself, his intellectual faculties are developed, and if you watch him for a few minutes, you will see them all more or less in action. This is the bright side of the picture; but now for its shades.
The child, in discovering maternal goodness by means of the benefits he receives from it, has already entered the invisible world, and has even cast a few glances upwards. towards heaven; but generally speaking he lives under
the empire of the senses, and is wholly engrossed by present objects and by the passing moment. To make him a man, we must therefore habituate him in the world of thought, by first turning his attention inwards to that mysterious self, which he ever feels, but with which he has hitherto made no acquaintance, because he can neither see nor handle it. He is as yet but an inhabitant of earth, like the animal, and we must make him a citizen of both worlds.
Surrounded by an infinity of objects, which present him with an ever moving, varying scene, he allows his volatile thoughts to run to and fro, just skimming over the surface of things, without even diving into them, so as really to know them. Our object must be to fix him, to give him steadiness. Moreover, as the child yields to each passing impression, he acquires detached ideas, but no knowledge of generalisation or of the sequence of things. We must then extend his view in this direction ; we must give his mind the capacity and the expansion it requires.
Lastly, since the child is at once so limited in knowledge and so volatile, his judgment will of course be very defective, and he will often be deceived. Moreover, he is always in a hurry to decide, and has not yet learnt to weigh things carefully before he judges. He needs, then, much assistance towards the attainment of truth, which he unfeignedly loves, and which he thinks to grasp, when he is still far from it. It has been said that he will only arrive at truth through numerous errors.
Such is the necessary fate of a being who starts with nothing and aims at the infinite.
Here, however, we must make two exceptions. The child judges admirably of the character of those around him, beginning with his mother, his father, his companions, and he knows how to set about getting what he wants from them. For this he has not only had ample leisure for observation, but self-interest has prompted him to look narrowly, for fear of erring to his own prejudice. And again, he judges most accurately of the good or bad behaviour of others towards himself; and shows, moreover, a nice and profound sense of justice, but only within