into their minds you plant a vice in the depths of their hearts;
foolish teachers think they are doing wonders when they are making
their scholars wicked in order to teach them what goodness is, and
then they tell us seriously, "Such is man." Yes, such is man, as
you have made him. Every means has been tried except one, the very
one which might succeed--well-regulated liberty. Do not undertake
to bring up a child if you cannot guide him merely by the laws of
what can or cannot be. The limits of the possible and the impossible
are alike unknown to him, so they can be extended or contracted
around him at your will. Without a murmur he is restrained, urged
on, held back, by the hands of necessity alone; he is made adaptable
and teachable by the mere force of things, without any chance for
vice to spring up in him; for passions do not arise so long as they
have accomplished nothing.

Give your scholar no verbal lessons; he should be taught by
experience alone; never punish him, for he does not know what it
is to do wrong; never make him say, "Forgive me," for he does not
know how to do you wrong. Wholly unmoral in his actions, he can
do nothing morally wrong, and he deserves neither punishment nor
reproof.

Already I see the frightened reader comparing this child with those
of our time; he is mistaken. The perpetual restraint imposed upon
your scholars stimulates their activity; the more subdued they are
in your presence, the more boisterous they are as soon as they are
out of your sight. They must make amends to themselves in some way
or other for the harsh constraint to which you subject them. Two
schoolboys from the town will do more damage in the country than
all the children of the village. Shut up a young gentleman and