We shall soon remark, that the organs of the internal life attain at once their perfection, and that from the instant at which they begin to act, they act with as much precision as they ever will do. On the contrary, the organs of the external life require a species of education; they arrive only by degrees at the perfection which we afterwards see in them. This important difference should be thoroughly examined. Let us begin by appreciating of what the animal life at first consists.
In examining the different functions of this life, which start at once into existence, we shall observe in their development a slow and graduated progress.—We shall see, that it is insensibly and by means of a real education that the organs attain a precision of action.
The sensations are at first confused; they transmit only general images; the eye has only the sensation of light; the ear that of sound only; the nose only that of smell. As yet there is nothing distinct in these general affections of the senses; but from habit the strength of the first impression is lessened and the particular sensations take place. The great differences of colours, sounds, smells, and savours, become perceptible; by little and little their secondary differences also are perceived, and after a certain lapse of time the child has learnt to see, to hear, to smell, to taste, and to touch.
After successfully undergoing the operation for the cataract, the patient, who has previously been totally blind, is sensible of light only, and learns by gradation to distinguish the objects which reflect it. Another person, before whom, as I have said, for the first time is exhibited the magnificent spectacle of an opera, at the first glance, perceives only a whole, which delights him, and only by degrees is able to isolate the enjoyments of which the dance, the music, and the decorations are productive.
The education of the brain is similar to that of the senses. Whatever depends upon its action, acquires the perfection, to which it is destined, by degrees only. The powers of perception, memory and imagination, which are all of them preceded and occasioned by the sensations, increase and extend in proportion as by repeated excitement they are brought into exercise.—The judgment, of which they form the triple base, associates but irregularly at first its motions, which themselves are but irregular. In a short time a greater degree of perspicuity is observed in its operations, and lastly they become precise and rigorous.
The voice and the agents of locomotion exemplify the same phenomenon: the cries of young animals at first are only an unformed sound, which possesses no sort of character: by age they are gradually modified, and after long repeated exercise affect the peculiar consonances of the species, by which, and particularly during the season of their loves, the individual of the same species is never deceived.[44] I do not instance the speech of man, for this is evidently the fruit of education.
In examining the newly born animal, its muscles will be seen continually in action. As every thing is new to it, every thing is an excitant to it, and makes it move; it endeavours to touch every thing, but neither progression, nor the power of standing can have place when the contractions of the voluntary muscles are so numerous. It is necessary for such, that habit shall have taught it to combine particular contractions with other particular contractions; until then it stumbles and falls at every moment.
Undoubtedly the inclination of the pelvis in the fœtus, the disposition of the femora, and the want of curvature in the spine, adapt it but little for standing immediately after birth; but with these causes is certainly also combined the want of exercise.[45] Who does not know, that if a limb be suffered to remain immoveable for a length of time, it loses the habit of moving, and that when afterwards its service is required, it requires a new kind of education before it can exercise its movements with any regularity or precision. The man, who for a long time should condemn himself to silence, would experience in like manner the same embarrassment in his first attempt at utterance.
From these considerations we may conclude that our exterior life, to allow myself the expression, is learnt, and requires before it can be perfected, a sort of apprenticeship.