272 EDUCATION. 
They are, without metaphor, the little children of Nature, the 
nurslings of Providence, aspiring towards the light in order to act 
and think; stumbling now, they by Degrees shall advance much 
further. 
“OQ pauvre enfantelet! du fil de tes pensées 
L’échevelet n’est encore débrouillé.”’ 
Poor feeble child! not yet of thy thought’s thread 
Is the entangled skein unravelléd. 
Souls of children, in truth, but far gentler, more resigned, more 
patient than those of human children. See with what silent good 
humour most of them (like the horse) support blows, and wounds, 
and ill-treatment! They all know how to endure disease and suffer 
death. They retire apart, surround themselves with silence, and lie 
down in concealment; this gentle patience often supplies them with 
the most efficacious remedies. If not, they accept their destiny, and 
pass away as if they slept. 
Can they love as deeply as we love? How shall we doubt it, 
when we see the most timid suddenly become heroic in defence of 
their young and their family? The devotedness of the man who 
braves death for his children you will see exemplified every day in 
the martin, which not only resists the eagle, but pursues him with 
heroical ardour. 
Would you wish to observe two things wonderfully analogous? 
Watch on the one side the woman’s delight at the first step of her 
infant, and on the other the swallow at the first flight of her little 
nursling. 
You see in both the same anxiety, the same encouragements, 
examples, and counsels, the same pretended security and lurking fear, 
the trembling ‘‘Take courage, nothing is more easy;”—in truth, the 
two mothers are inwardly shivering. 
The lessons are curious. The mother raises herself on her wings; 
the fledgling regards her intently, and also raises himself a little ; 
then you see her hovering—he looks, he stirs his wings. All this 
