The lie concerning duty is even less natural, since promises to do or refrain from doing are conventional agreements which are outside the state of nature and detract from our liberty.  Moreover, all promises made by children are in themselves void; when they pledge themselves they do not know what they are doing, for their narrow vision cannot look beyond the present.  A child can hardly lie when he makes a promise; for he is only thinking how he can get out of the present difficulty, any means which has not an immediate result is the same to him; when he promises for the future he promises nothing, and his imagination is as yet incapable of projecting him into the future while he lives in the present.  If he could escape a whipping or get a packet of sweets by promising to throw himself out of the window to-morrow, he would promise on the spot.  This is why the law disregards all promises made by minors, and when fathers and teachers are stricter and demand that promises shall be kept, it is only when the promise refers to something the child ought to do even if he had made no promise.

The child cannot lie when he makes a promise, for he does not know what he is doing when he makes his promise.  The case is different when he breaks his promise, which is a sort of retrospective falsehood; for he clearly remembers making the promise, but he fails to see the importance of keeping it.  Unable to look into the future, he cannot foresee the results of things, and when he breaks his promises he does nothing contrary to his stage of reasoning.

Children’s lies are therefore entirely the work of their teachers, and to teach them to speak the truth is nothing less than to teach them the art of lying.  In your zeal to rule, control, and teach them, you never find sufficient means at your disposal.  You wish to gain fresh influence over their minds by baseless maxims, by unreasonable precepts; and you would rather they knew their lessons and told lies, than leave them ignorant and truthful.

We, who only give our scholars lessons in practice, who prefer to have them good rather than clever, never demand the truth lest they should conceal it, and never claim any promise lest they should be tempted to break it.  If some mischief has been done in my absence and I do not know who did it, I shall take care not to accuse Emile, nor to say, “Did you do it?” [Footnote:  Nothing could be more indiscreet than such a question, especially if the child is guilty.  Then if he thinks you know what he has done, he will think you are setting a trap for him, and this idea can only set him against you.  If he thinks you do not know, he will say to himself, “Why should I make my fault known?” And here we have the first temptation to falsehood as the direct result of your foolish question.] For in so doing what should I do but teach him to deny it?  If his difficult temperament compels me to make some agreement with him, I will take good care that the