their pitch and their
timbre. How fully
this
a priori conclusion is confirmed by infantile
instincts, all will see on being reminded of the delight
which every young child has in biting its toys, in
feeling its brother’s bright jacket-buttons,
and pulling papa’s whiskers—how absorbed
it becomes in gazing at any gaudily-painted object,
to which it applies the word “pretty,”
when it can pronounce it, wholly because of the bright
colours—and how its face broadens into a
laugh at the tattlings of its nurse, the snapping of
a visitor’s fingers, or any sound which it has
not before heard. Fortunately, the ordinary practices
of the nursery fulfil these early requirements of
education to a considerable degree. Much, however,
remains to be done; and it is of more importance that
it should be done than at first appears. Every
faculty during that spontaneous activity which accompanies
its evolution is capable of receiving more vivid impressions
than at any other period. Moreover, as these simplest
elements have to be mastered, and as the mastery of
them whenever achieved must take time, it becomes
an economy of time to occupy this first stage of childhood,
during which no other intellectual action is possible,
in gaining a complete familiarity with them in all
their modifications. Nor let us omit the fact,
that both temper and health will be improved by the
continual gratification resulting from a due supply
of these impressions which every child so greedily
assimilates. Space, could it be spared, might
here be well filled by some suggestions towards a more
systematic ministration to these simplest of the perceptions.
But it must suffice to point out that any such ministration,
recognising the general law of evolution from the
indefinite to the definite, should proceed upon the
corollary that in the development of every faculty,
markedly contrasted impressions are the first to be
distinguished; that hence sounds greatly differing
in loudness and pitch, colours very remote from each
other, and substances widely unlike in hardness or
texture, should be the first supplied; and that in
each case the progression must be by slow degrees
to impressions more nearly allied.
Passing on to object-lessons, which manifestly form
a natural continuation of this primary culture of
the senses, it is to be remarked, that the system
commonly pursued is wholly at variance with the method
of Nature, as exhibited alike in infancy, in adult
life, and in the course of civilisation. “The
child,” says M. Marcel, “must be shown
how all the parts of an object are connected, etc.;”
and the various manuals of these object-lessons severally
contain lists of the facts which the child is to be
told respecting each of the things put before
it. Now it needs but a glance at the daily life
of the infant to see that all the knowledge of things
which is gained before the acquirement of speech,
is self-gained—that the qualities of hardness