for granted on the word of another person without seeing its use for himself, this is the beginning of the ruin of the child’s judgment.  He may dazzle the eyes of fools long enough before he recovers from such a loss. [Footnote:  The learning of most philosophers is like the learning of children.  Vast erudition results less in the multitude of ideas than in a multitude of images.  Dates, names, places, all objects isolated or unconnected with ideas are merely retained in the memory for symbols, and we rarely recall any of these without seeing the right or left page of the book in which we read it, or the form in which we first saw it.  Most science was of this kind till recently.  The science of our times is another matter; study and observation are things of the past; we dream and the dreams of a bad night are given to us as philosophy.  You will say I too am a dreamer; I admit it, but I do what the others fail to do, I give my dreams as dreams, and leave the reader to discover whether there is anything in them which may prove useful to those who are awake.]

No, if nature has given the child this plasticity of brain which fits him to receive every kind of impression, it was not that you should imprint on it the names and dates of kings, the jargon of heraldry, the globe and geography, all those words without present meaning or future use for the child, which flood of words overwhelms his sad and barren childhood.  But by means of this plasticity all the ideas he can understand and use, all that concern his happiness and will some day throw light upon his duties, should be traced at an early age in indelible characters upon his brain, to guide him to live in such a way as befits his nature and his powers.

Without the study of books, such a memory as the child may possess is not left idle; everything he sees and hears makes an impression on him, he keeps a record of men’s sayings and doings, and his whole environment is the book from which he unconsciously enriches his memory, till his judgment is able to profit by it.

To select these objects, to take care to present him constantly with those he may know, to conceal from him those he ought not to know, this is the real way of training his early memory; and in this way you must try to provide him with a storehouse of knowledge which will serve for his education in youth and his conduct throughout life.  True, this method does not produce infant prodigies, nor will it reflect glory upon their tutors and governesses, but it produces men, strong, right-thinking men, vigorous both in mind and body, men who do not win admiration as children, but honour as men.

Emile will not learn anything by heart, not even fables, not even the fables of La Fontaine, simple and delightful as they are, for the words are no more the fable than the words of history are history.  How can people be so blind as to call fables the child’s system of morals, without considering that the child is not only amused by the apologue but misled by it?  He is attracted by what is false and he misses the truth, and the means adopted to make the teaching pleasant prevent him profiting by it.  Men may be taught by fables; children require the naked truth.