And since “no science consists in the knowledge of words, so there is no study proper for children” (17: i, p. 152). Rousseau’s pupil, Émile, “will hardly know what a book is at twelve years of age” (17: i, p. 162). In his opinion, “reading is a vexation to children; ... it is good for nothing, but to disgust and fatigue them till they see its use” (17: i, p. 162). As for writing, he says he is ashamed of condescending to discuss such a trifling subject. On the other hand, the acquisition power of which children are possessed can be fully engaged in other things than studying books. Instead of beginning by teaching the child how to read and write according to the time-honored custom of his day, Rousseau would give it as much opportunity to gather, correct, and broaden sense experience as possible. “Everything they see or hear appears striking, and they try to commit it to memory. A child keeps in his mind a register of the actions and conversation of those who are about him; every scene he is engaged in is a book, from which he insensibly enriches his memory, treasuring up his store till time will ripen his judgment and turn it to profit. It is in the choice of these scenes and objects, in the care of presenting those constantly to his view with which he ought to be familiar and in hiding from him such as are improper, that the true art of cultivating this primary faculty of a child consists. By such means also it is that we should endeavor to form that magazine of knowledge which should serve for his education in youth, and to regulate his conduct afterwards. This method, it is true, is not productive of little prodigies of learning, nor does it tend to enhance the character of governess or preceptor; but it is the way to form robust and judicious men, persons sound in body and mind, who, without being admired while children, know how to make themselves respected when grown-up” (17: i, pp. 153-154). “During the time that their supple and delicate organs are adapted to making experiments on bodies while their senses are as yet exempt from illusions; this is the interval in which we should exercise both the one and the other in their proper functions; this is the time to teach children the perceptible relations of things. As everything that enters into human understanding is introduced by the senses, the first kind of ratiocination in man is a kind of sensitive reasoning; and this serves as the basis of his intellectual reason. Our first instructors in philosophy are our feet, hands, and eyes. In substituting books in their place we do not learn to reason, but to content ourselves with the reasoning of others; we learn indeed to believe a great deal, but to know nothing” (17: i, pp. 180-181).