Èmile — Book 2, Part 6

The body is strengthened by this constant exercise under the guidance of nature herself, and far from brutalising the mind, this exercise develops in it the only kind of reason of which young children are capable, the kind of reason most necessary at every age.

It teaches us how to use our strength, to perceive the relations between our own and neighbouring bodies, to use the natural tools, which are within our reach and adapted to our senses.

Is there anything sillier than a child brought up indoors under his mother's eye, who, in his ignorance of weight and resistance, tries to uproot a tall tree or pick up a rock.

The first time I found myself outside Geneva I tried to catch a galloping horse, and I threw stones at Mont Saleve, two leagues away; I was the laughing stock of the whole village, and was supposed to be a regular idiot.

At eighteen we are taught in our natural philosophy the use of the lever;

every village boy of twelve knows how to use a lever better than the cleverest mechanician in the academy.

The lessons the scholars learn from one another in the playground are worth a hundredfold more than what they learn in the class-room.

Watch a cat when she comes into a room for the first time; she goes from place to place, she sniffs about and examines everything, she is never still for a moment; she is suspicious of everything till she has examined it and found out what it is.

It is the same with the child when he begins to walk, and enters, so to speak, the room of the world around him.

The only difference is that, while both use sight, the child uses his hands and the cat that subtle sense of smell which nature has bestowed upon it.

It is this instinct, rightly or wrongly educated, which makes children skilful or clumsy, quick or slow, wise or foolish.

Man's primary natural goals are, therefore, to measure himself against his environment, to discover in every object he sees those sensible qualities which may concern himself, so his first study is a kind of experimental physics for his own preservation.

He is turned away from this and sent to speculative studies before he has found his proper place in the world.

While his delicate and flexible limbs can adjust themselves to the bodies upon which they are intended to act, while his senses are keen and as yet free from illusions, then is the time to exercise both limbs and senses in their proper business.

It is the time to learn to perceive the physical relations between ourselves and things.

Since everything that comes into the human mind enters through the gates of sense, man's first reason is a reason of sense-experience.

It is this that serves as a foundation for the reason of the intelligence;

our first teachers in natural philosophy are our feet, hands, and eyes.

To substitute books for them does not teach us to reason, it teaches us to use the reason of others rather than our own; it teaches us to believe much and know little.

Before you can practise an art you must first get your tools; and if you are to make good use of those tools, they must be fashioned sufficiently strong to stand use.

To learn to think we must therefore exercise our limbs, our senses, and our bodily organs, which are the tools of the intellect; and to get the best use out of these tools, the body which supplies us with them must be strong and healthy.

Not only is it quite a mistake that true reason is developed apart from the body, but it is a good bodily constitution which makes the workings of the mind easy and correct.

While I am showing how the child's long period of leisure should be spent, I am entering into details which may seem absurd.

You will say, "This is a strange sort of education, and it is subject to your own criticism, for it only teaches what no one needs to learn.

Why spend your time in teaching what will come of itself without care or trouble?

Is there any child of twelve who is ignorant of all you wish to teach your pupil, while he also knows what his master has taught him."

Gentlemen, you are mistaken.

I am teaching my pupil an art, the acquirement of which demands much time and trouble, an art which your scholars certainly do not possess; it is the art of being ignorant; for the knowledge of any one who only thinks he knows, what he really does know is a very small matter.

You teach science; well and good; I am busy fashioning the necessary tools for its acquisition.

Once upon a time, they say the Venetians were displaying the treasures of the Cathedral of Saint Mark to the Spanish ambassador; the only comment he made was, "Qui non c'e la radice."

When I see a tutor showing off his pupil's learning, I am always tempted to say the same to him.

Every one who has considered the manner of life among the ancients, attributes the strength of body and mind by which they are distinguished from the men of our own day to their gymnastic exercises.

The stress laid by Montaigne upon this opinion, shows that it had made a great impression on him; he returns to it again and again.

Speaking of a child's education he says, "To strengthen the mind you must harden the muscles; by training the child to labour you train him to suffering; he must be broken in to the hardships of gymnastic exercises to prepare him for the hardships of dislocations, colics, and other bodily ills."

The philosopher Locke, the worthy Rollin, the learned Fleury, the pedant De Crouzas, differing as they do so widely from one another, are agreed in this one matter of sufficient bodily exercise for children.

This is the wisest of their precepts, and the one which is certain to be neglected.

I

have already dwelt sufficiently on its importance, and as better reasons and more sensible rules cannot be found than those in Locke's book, I will content myself with referring to it, after taking the liberty of adding a few remarks of my own.

The limbs of a growing child should be free to move easily in his clothing; nothing should cramp their growth or movement; there should be nothing tight, nothing fitting closely to the body, no belts of any kind.

The French style of dress, uncomfortable and unhealthy for a man, is especially bad for children.

The stagnant humours, whose circulation is interrupted, putrify in a state of inaction, and this process proceeds more rapidly in an inactive and sedentary life; they become corrupt and give rise to scurvy; this disease, which is continually on the increase among us, was almost unknown to the ancients, whose way of dressing and living protected them from it.

The hussar's dress, far from correcting this fault, increases it, and compresses the whole of the child's body, by way of dispensing with a few bands.

The best plan is to keep children in frocks as long as possible and then to provide them with loose clothing, without trying to define the shape which is only another way of deforming it.

Their defects of body and mind may all be traced to the same source, the desire to make men of them before their time.

There are bright colours and dull; children like the bright colours best, and they suit them better too.

I see no reason why such natural suitability should not be taken into consideration; but as soon as they prefer a material because it is rich, their hearts are already given over to luxury, to every caprice of fashion, and this taste is certainly not their own.

It is impossible to say how much education is influenced by this choice of clothes, and the motives for this choice.

Not only do short-sighted mothers offer ornaments as rewards to their children, but there are foolish tutors who threaten to make their pupils wear the plainest and coarsest clothes as a punishment.

"If you do not do your lessons better, if you do not take more care of your clothes, you shall be dressed like that little peasant boy."

This is like saying to them, "Understand that clothes make the man."

Is it to be wondered at that our young people profit by such wise teaching, that they care for nothing but dress, and that they only judge of merit by its outside.

If I had to bring such a spoilt child to his senses, I would take care that his smartest clothes were the most uncomfortable, that he was always cramped, constrained, and embarrassed in every way;

freedom and mirth should flee before his splendour.

If he wanted to take part in the games of children more simply dressed, they should cease their play and run away.

Before long I should make him so tired and sick of his magnificence, such a slave to his gold-laced coat, that it would become the plague of his life, and he would be less afraid to behold the darkest dungeon than to see the preparations for his adornment.

Before the child is enslaved by our prejudices his first wish is always to be free and comfortable.

The plainest and most comfortable clothes, those which leave him most liberty, are what he always likes best.

There are habits of body suited for an active life and others for a sedentary life.

The latter leaves the humours an equable and uniform course, and the body should be protected from changes in temperature; the former is constantly passing from action to rest, from heat to cold, and the body should be inured to these changes.

Hence people, engaged in sedentary pursuits indoors, should always be warmly dressed, to keep their bodies as nearly as possible at the same temperature at all times and seasons.

Those, however, who come and go in sun, wind, and rain, who take much exercise, and spend most of their time out of doors, should always be lightly clad, so as to get used to the changes in the air and to every degree of temperature without suffering inconvenience.

I would advise both never to change their clothes with the changing seasons, and that would be the invariable habit of my pupil Emile.

By this I do not mean that he should wear his winter clothes in summer like many people of sedentary habits, but that he should wear his summer clothes in winter like hard-working folk.

Sir Isaac Newton always did this, and he lived to be eighty.

Emile should wear little or nothing on his head all the year round.

The ancient Egyptians always went bareheaded; the Persians used to wear heavy tiaras and still wear large turbans, which according to Chardin are required by their climate.

I have remarked elsewhere on the difference observed by Herodotus on a battle-field between the skulls of the Persians and those of the Egyptians.

Since it is desirable that the bones of the skull should grow harder and more substantial, less fragile and porous, not only to protect the brain against injuries but against colds, fever, and every influence of the air, you should therefore accustom your children to go bare-headed winter and summer, day and night.

If you make them wear a night-cap to keep their hair clean and tidy, let it be thin and transparent like the nets with which the Basques cover their hair.

I am aware that most mothers will be more impressed by Chardin's observations than my arguments, and will think that all climates are the climate of Persia, but I did not choose a European pupil to turn him into an Asiatic.

Children are generally too much wrapped up, particularly in infancy.

They should be accustomed to cold rather than heat; great cold never does them any harm, if they are exposed to it soon enough;

but their skin is still too soft and tender and leaves too free a course for perspiration, so that they are inevitably exhausted by excessive heat.

It has been observed that infant mortality is greatest in August.

Moreover, it seems certain from a comparison of northern and southern races that we become stronger by bearing extreme cold rather than excessive heat.

But as the child's body grows bigger and his muscles get stronger, train him gradually to bear the rays of the sun.

Little by little you will harden him till he can face the burning heat of the tropics without danger.

Locke, in the midst of the manly and sensible advice he gives us, falls into inconsistencies one would hardly expect in such a careful thinker.

The same man who would have children take an ice-cold bath summer and winter, will not let them drink cold water when they are hot, or lie on damp grass.

But he would never have their shoes water-tight; and why should they let in more water when the child is hot than when he is cold, and may we not draw the same inference with regard to the feet and body that he draws with regard to the hands and feet and the body and face?

If he would have a man all face, why blame me if I would have him all feet?

To prevent children drinking when they are hot, he says they should be trained to eat a piece of bread first.

It is a strange thing to make a child eat because he is thirsty; I would as soon give him a drink when he is hungry.

You will never convince me that our first instincts are so ill-regulated that we cannot satisfy them without endangering our lives.

Were that so, the man would have perished over and over again before he had learned how to keep himself alive.

Whenever Emile is thirsty let him have a drink, and let him drink fresh water just as it is, not even taking the chill off it in the depths of winter and when he is bathed in perspiration.

The only precaution I advise is to take care what sort of water you give him.

If the water comes from a river, give it him just as it is;

if it is spring-water let it stand a little exposed to the air before he drinks it.

In warm weather rivers are warm; it is not so with springs, whose water has not been in contact with the air.

You must wait till the temperature of the water is the same as that of the air.

In winter, on the other hand, spring water is safer than river water.

It is, however, unusual and unnatural to perspire greatly in winter, especially in the open air, for the cold air constantly strikes the skin and drives the perspiration inwards, and prevents the pores opening enough to give it passage.

Now I do not intend Emile to take his exercise by the fireside in winter, but in the open air and among the ice.

If he only gets warm with making and throwing snowballs, let him drink when he is thirsty, and go on with his game after drinking, and you need not be afraid of any ill effects.

And if any other exercise makes him perspire let him drink cold water even in winter provided he is thirsty.

Only take care to take him to get the water some little distance away.

In such cold as I am supposing, he would have cooled down sufficiently when he got there to be able to drink without danger.

Above all, take care to conceal these precautions from him.

I

would rather he were ill now and then, than always thinking about his health.

Since children take such violent exercise they need a great deal of sleep.

The one makes up for the other, and this shows that both are necessary.

Night is the time set apart by nature for rest.

It is an established fact that sleep is quieter and calmer when the sun is below the horizon, and that our senses are less calm when the air is warmed by the rays of the sun.

So it is certainly the healthiest plan to rise with the sun and go to bed with the sun.

Hence in our country man and all the other animals with him want more sleep in winter than in summer.

But town life is so complex, so unnatural, so subject to chances and changes, that it is not wise to accustom a man to such uniformity that he cannot do without it.

No doubt he must submit to rules; but the chief rule is this--be able to break the rule if necessary.

So do not be so foolish as to soften your pupil by letting him always sleep his sleep out.

Leave him at first to the law of nature without any hindrance, but never forget that under our conditions he must rise above this law; he must be able to go to bed late and rise early, be awakened suddenly, or sit up all night without ill effects.

Begin early and proceed gently, a step at a time, and the constitution adapts itself to the very conditions which would destroy it if they were imposed for the first time on the grown man.

In the next place he must be accustomed to sleep in an uncomfortable bed, which is the best way to find no bed uncomfortable.

Speaking generally, a hard life, when once we have become used to it, increases our pleasant experiences; an easy life prepares the way for innumerable unpleasant experiences.

Those who are too tenderly nurtured can only sleep on down; those who are used to sleep on bare boards can find them anywhere.

There is no such thing as a hard bed for the man who falls asleep at once.

The body is, so to speak, melted and dissolved in a soft bed where one sinks into feathers and eider-down.

The reins when too warmly covered become inflamed.

Stone and other diseases are often due to this, and it invariably produces a delicate constitution, which is the seed-ground of every ailment.

The best bed is that in which we get the best sleep.

Emile and I will prepare such a bed for ourselves during the daytime.

We do not need Persian slaves to make our beds; when we are digging the soil we are turning our mattresses.

I know that a healthy child may be made to sleep or wake almost at will.

When the child is put to bed and his nurse grows weary of his chatter, she says to him, "Go to sleep."

That is much like saying, "Get well," when he is ill.

The right way is to let him get tired of himself.

Talk so much that he is compelled to hold his tongue, and he will soon be asleep.

Here is at least one use for sermons, and you may as well preach to him as rock his cradle; but if you use this narcotic at night, do not use it by day.

I shall sometimes rouse Emile, not so much to prevent his sleeping too much, as to accustom him to anything--even to waking with a start.

Moreover, I should be unfit for my business if I could not make him wake himself, and get up, so to speak, at my will, without being called.

If he wakes too soon, I shall let him look forward to a tedious morning, so that he will count as gain any time he can give to sleep.

If he sleeps too late I shall show him some favourite toy when he wakes.

If I want him to wake at a given hour I shall say, "To-morrow at six I am going fishing," or "I shall take a walk to such and such a place.

Would you like to come too?"

He assents, and begs me to wake him.

I promise, or do not promise, as the case requires.

If he wakes too late, he finds me gone.

There is something amiss if he does not soon learn to wake himself.

Moreover, should it happen, though it rarely does, that a sluggish child desires to stagnate in idleness, you must not give way to this tendency, which might stupefy him entirely, but you must apply some stimulus to wake him.

You must understand that is no question of applying force, but of arousing some appetite which leads to action, and such an appetite, carefully selected on the lines laid down by nature, kills two birds with one stone.

If one has any sort of skill, I can think of nothing for which a taste, a very passion, cannot be aroused in children, and that without vanity, emulation, or jealousy.

Their keenness, their spirit of imitation, is enough of itself; above all, there is their natural liveliness, of which no teacher so far has contrived to take advantage.

In every game, when they are quite sure it is only play, they endure without complaint, or even with laughter, hardships which they would not submit to otherwise without floods of tears.

The sports of the young savage involve long fasting, blows, burns, and fatigue of every kind, a proof that even pain has a charm of its own, which may remove its bitterness.

It is not every master, however, who knows how to season this dish, nor can every scholar eat it without making faces.

However, I must take care or I shall be wandering off again after exceptions.

It is not to be endured that man should become the slave of pain, disease, accident, the perils of life, or even death itself; the more familiar he becomes with these ideas the sooner he will be cured of that over-sensitiveness which adds to the pain by impatience in bearing it; the sooner he becomes used to the sufferings which may overtake him, the sooner he shall, as Montaigne has put it, rob those pains of the sting of unfamiliarity, and so make his soul strong and invulnerable; his body will be the coat of mail which stops all the darts which might otherwise find a vital part.

Even the approach of death, which is not death itself, will scarcely be felt as such; he will not die, he will be, so to speak, alive or dead and nothing more.

Montaigne might say of him as he did of a certain king of Morocco, "No man ever prolonged his life so far into death."

A child serves his apprenticeship in courage and endurance as well as in other virtues; but you cannot teach children these virtues by name alone; they must learn them unconsciously through experience.

But speaking of death, what steps shall I take with regard to my pupil and the smallpox?

Shall he be inoculated in infancy, or shall I wait till he takes it in the natural course of things?

The former plan is more in accordance with our practice, for it preserves his life at a time when it is of greater value, at the cost of some danger when his life is of less worth; if indeed we can use the word danger with regard to inoculation when properly performed.

But the other plan is more in accordance with our general principles--to leave nature to take the precautions she delights in, precautions she abandons whenever man interferes.

The natural man is always ready; let nature inoculate him herself, she will choose the fitting occasion better than we.

Do not think I am finding fault with inoculation, for my reasons for exempting my pupil from it do not in the least apply to yours.

Your training does not prepare them to escape catching smallpox as soon as they are exposed to infection.

If you let them take it anyhow, they will probably die.

I perceive that in different lands the resistance to inoculation is in proportion to the need for it; and the reason is plain.

So I scarcely condescend to discuss this question with regard to Emile.

He will be inoculated or not according to time, place, and circumstances; it is almost a matter of indifference, as far as he is concerned.

If it gives him smallpox, there will be the advantage of knowing what to expect, knowing what the disease is; that is a good thing, but if he catches it naturally it will have kept him out of the doctor's hands, which is better.