wants to call me, or rather he will utter a single cry. Children
learn the meaning of signs by their effects; they have no other
meaning for them. However much a child hurts himself when he is
alone, he rarely cries, unless he expects to be heard.

Should he fall or bump his head, or make his nose bleed, or cut
his fingers, I shall show no alarm, nor shall I make any fuss over
him; I shall take no notice, at any rate at first. The harm is done;
he must bear it; all my zeal could only frighten him more and make
him more nervous. Indeed it is not the blow but the fear of it which
distresses us when we are hurt. I shall spare him this suffering
at least, for he will certainly regard the injury as he sees me
regard it; if he finds that I hasten anxiously to him, if I pity
him or comfort him, he will think he is badly hurt. If he finds I
take no notice, he will soon recover himself, and will think the
wound is healed when it ceases to hurt. This is the time for his
first lesson in courage, and by bearing slight ills without fear
we gradually learn to bear greater.

I shall not take pains to prevent Emile hurting himself; far from
it, I should be vexed if he never hurt himself, if he grew up
unacquainted with pain. To bear pain is his first and most useful
lesson. It seems as if children were small and weak on purpose to
teach them these valuable lessons without danger. The child has
such a little way to fall he will not break his leg; if he knocks
himself with a stick he will not break his arm; if he seizes a sharp
knife he will not grasp it tight enough to make a deep wound. So
far as I know, no child, left to himself, has ever been known to
kill or maim itself, or even to do itself any serious harm, unless
it has been foolishly left on a high place, or alone near the fire,