things without the aid of other people’s ideas.  You leave him master of his own wishes, but you do not multiply his caprices.  When he only does what he wants, he will soon only do what he ought, and although his body is constantly in motion, so far as his sensible and present interests are concerned, you will find him developing all the reason of which he is capable, far better and in a manner much better fitted for him than in purely theoretical studies.

Thus when he does not find you continually thwarting him, when he no longer distrusts you, no longer has anything to conceal from you, he will neither tell you lies nor deceive you; he will show himself fearlessly as he really is, and you can study him at your ease, and surround him with all the lessons you would have him learn, without awaking his suspicions.

Neither will he keep a curious and jealous eye on your own conduct, nor take a secret delight in catching you at fault.  It is a great thing to avoid this.  One of the child’s first objects is, as I have said, to find the weak spots in its rulers.  Though this leads to spitefulness, it does not arise from it, but from the desire to evade a disagreeable control.  Overburdened by the yoke laid upon him, he tries to shake it off, and the faults he finds in his master give him a good opportunity for this.  Still the habit of spying out faults and delighting in them grows upon people.  Clearly we have stopped another of the springs of vice in Emile’s heart.  Having nothing to gain from my faults, he will not be on the watch for them, nor will he be tempted to look out for the faults of others.

All these methods seem difficult because they are new to us, but they ought not to be really difficult.  I have a right to assume that you have the knowledge required for the business you have chosen; that you know the usual course of development of the human thought, that you can study mankind and man, that you know beforehand the effect on your pupil’s will of the various objects suited to his age which you put before him.  You have the tools and the art to use them; are you not master of your trade?

You speak of childish caprice; you are mistaken.  Children’s caprices are never the work of nature, but of bad discipline; they have either obeyed or given orders, and I have said again and again, they must do neither.  Your pupil will have the caprices you have taught him; it is fair you should bear the punishment of your own faults.  “But how can I cure them?” do you say?  That may still be done by better conduct on your own part and great patience.  I once undertook the charge of a child for a few weeks; he was accustomed not only to have his own way, but to make every one else do as he pleased; he was therefore capricious.  The very first day he wanted to get up at midnight, to try how far he could go with me.  When I was sound asleep he jumped out of bed, got his dressing-gown, and waked me up.  I got up and lighted the candle, which