Rousseau’s next work was the ‘Emile, ou de l’Education,’ which appeared in 1762. It contains many excellent precepts, especially in the first part, although, as a whole system, it may be considered as impracticable, at least in any state of society which has yet been formed upon the earth. It was remarked at the time, that the author, after having brought up his Emile to manhood, ought to create a new world for him to live in. Rousseau himself seems to have been of this opinion, for when a Mr. Angar introduced to him his son, whom he said he had educated according to the principles of the Emile, Rousseau quickly replied, “So much the worse for you, and for your son too.” The ‘Emile,’ however, introduced some beneficial changes in the early treatment of children. It discredited the absurd practice of swaddling infants like mummies, to the manifest injury of their tender limbs; it induced mothers of the higher ranks to suckle their children, instead of committing them to the care of nurses; it corrected several wrong principles of early education, such as that of ruling children through fear, of considering them as slaves having no will of their own, and of terrifying them by absurd stories and fables; it inculcated freedom of body and mind, the necessity of amusement and relaxation, of appealing to the feelings of children, of treating them like rational beings. Rousseau may be truly called the benefactor of children. As he proceeded, however, in his plan for boys grown older, Rousseau became involved in some of his favourite speculations about religion and metaphysics, which gave offence to both Catholics and Protestants. The Parliament of Paris condemned the work. The Archbishop issued a _mandement_ against it. The States-General of Holland likewise proscribed the book. At Geneva, it was publicly burnt by the hand of the executioner. The publication of the ‘Contrat Social, ou Principes du Droit Politique,’ which appeared soon after, added to the storm against the author. It contains much speculative truth, combined with much ignorance of men’s nature and passions. The idea of a perfect and universal model of government, without regard to local circumstances, seems chimerical. It is a curious fact that Rousseau, after reading Bernardin de St. Pierre’s political works, observed that they contained projects which were impracticable on account of a fundamental error, out of which the author was unable to extricate himself, namely, “that of supposing that men in general and in all cases will conduct themselves according to the dictates of reason and virtue, rather than according to their passions.” Rousseau, in uttering these words, passed judgment on his own ‘Contrat Social,’ which he afterwards also acknowledged having written, “not for men but for angels.” In fact, he never meant it for anything but a speculative treatise, and in his ‘Considérations sur le Gouvernement de la Pologne,’ published some years after, having to write