Emile: On Education

Emile is now a grown man, and Rousseau’s task is to provide Emile with a worthy companion—a wife.

In most respects, Rousseau finds women and men to be similar in physiology. The sexual differences, however, extend not only to body but to mind. As a couple, “The man should be strong and active; the woman should be weak and passive” (172). In courtship, the woman brings out the man’s strength by resisting him; ironically, this involves “the shame and modesty with which nature has armed the weak for the conquest of the strong” (172).

A woman can dominate a man through her resistance. “For nature has endowed woman with a power of stimulating man’s passions […] and compelled him in his turn to endeavour to please her” (173). This power over men comes from Nature and inviolate. As a mother, the woman must be faithful; if she strays, “she destroys the family and breaks the bonds of nature,” especially when “she gives her husband children who are not his own” (174). A father does not want to be burdened with children not his. Thus, the wife must be faithful, modest, and of good reputation.

Some argue that women should be able, between pregnancies, to take up professions. Rousseau argues that this cannot successfully be achieved because women are unable to alter their feelings so quickly. Though men complain that women have specific faults that they are free from, Rousseau argues that men would then likewise have faults that are virtues in women. Women also complain that they are taught to be frivolous while men go to college. In any event, says Rousseau, “The more women are like men, the less influence they will have over men” (175).

If women try to behave as men, “they are unable to make use of two incompatible things, so they fall below their own level as women, instead of rising to the level of men” (175). This doesn’t mean women should lack education. Their training, however, should speak to their particular strengths; where men are theoretical, women are practical. A woman “is dependent on man through her desires and also through her needs; he could do without her better than she can do without him” (175). Therefore, women are dependent on man’s judgment, which is how Nature intended it. Where a man should not concern himself about public opinion, a woman must do so. Her education, therefore, should teach her to focus on her man’s needs.

The physical as well as the mental should also be trained. “Women should be strong enough to do anything gracefully; men should be skillful enough to do anything easily” (176). To that end, girls ought to have plenty of opportunity for open-air amusement instead of being cooped up in the home.

As far as little girls are concerned, though they like to play with dolls and dress them up more than learning to read and write, they can learn to draw and sew. It’s bad enough to teach boys to read too soon, and even more so for girls. Instead, their natural curiosity should be turned toward arithmetic, which is useful in the household. Because young girls must grow up to be modest and obedient, “teach them above all things self-control” (178). To achieve her ends, a woman should not be angry like a man, but instead should use gentleness and, especially, her wiles. She’ll thus be a help to man but not his slave, and assert her equality to man while garnering obedience from children.  

Girls are taught “to delight in elaborate finery” but should, instead, learn that such devices are “only required to hide their defects, and that beauty's real triumph is to shine alone” (179). Often, young girls are forbidden to dance, sing and be frivolous, which can cause them to seek out these denied pastimes later when married, and not always in a good way. Other girls, stilted by stuffy Christian propriety, grow up to be “sulky, fault-finding, and intolerable at home” (180). Far better it would be for her to learn the pleasing arts that keep her husband happy and at home. Girls are more talkative than boys. Their speech, rather than being strictly useful, as with boys, should be polite and pleasing, though never untruthful.

As for religion, “it is more important to show her plainly what to believe than to explain the reasons for belief” (182), and the teaching should be positive rather than gloomy; a harsh attitude leads either to impiety or fanaticism. Children should not be forced to memorize the catechism, or answer questions about it, when they do not yet understand it. Without training in reason to guide her conscience, however, the girl will become a woman too easily swayed by social prejudices.

A well-educated woman can know at once all the moods and needs of her dinner guests and find elegant ways to keep each one pleased and happy. A man standing in public between his two lovers will make a hash of it, while a coquettish woman can juggle several men and keep each believing that he is her special one. “Self-possession, penetration, delicate observation, this is a woman's science; the skill to make use of it is her chief accomplishment” (186). Whether she uses it to help or deceive depends on her upbringing. Additionally, the shallow temptations of the world shouldn’t be hidden from her. She can understand them alongside the richer pleasures of domestic life so that she may freely choose to avoid crass allurements. The lessons about a woman’s duties should inspire enthusiasm, not dread. Don’t lecture them, Rousseau instructs, but appeal to their natural values. Virtuous women can hold men to account and lead society by their example. In ancient Rome, for instance, “Every great revolution began with the women” (189).

Sophy, the young woman presented to Emile as an ideal, is well brought up and has a good heart; though she’s not perfect, “in no one are these qualities better blended to form a happy disposition” (191). Sophy is moderately attractive, well but simply dressed, able to sing, play music and dance. Sophy also is a keen household manager who can perform all of the servants’ duties, including cooking and cleaning. Her mother has taught her to emphasize cleanliness above all, which sometimes interferes with her gardening and cooking. She is educated but not overly so. Though spirited, she is obedient, and if she does wrong, she is eager to make amends. As a blossoming woman, “she loves virtue as the only road to real happiness” (192).

Sophy is based on a girl Rousseau knew. The girl and the character are identical in all respects except one: The real Sophy, introduced to society at age 15, rejects all suitors, becomes sullen, and her health suffers. She reveals to her parents, with shame, that her true love is a fictional character—Telemachus, son of Odysseus—and that none of her suitors come close to his gallant perfection. Her parents rebuke her, and Sophy dies soon after, essentially of a broken heart. Not wishing to visit this fate on his imaginary Sophy, Rousseau modifies her character.

For Rousseau, what matters most in a successful marriage is compatibility—“an agreement of taste, temper, feeling, and disposition” (198). Social rank, if it differs between the partners, can interfere with the couple’s happiness but it cannot augment it. It’s best, then, to search for compatibility, but to restrict the search to similar social classes. Important, also, is similarity in education: “A man who thinks should not ally himself with a woman who does not think, for he loses the chief delight of social life if he has a wife who cannot share his thoughts” (199). Such a woman also will be unable properly to educate her children. On the other hand, an overly educated woman may become a snob. Moreover, the wife should not be too beautiful, as this leads to endless trouble with suitors. A good personality is more important than good looks, and it lasts longer.

Having taken Emile to Paris, where the lad quickly discovers that the sophisticated frivolity of city women is not to his taste, the tutor leads Emile on an extended cross-country hike, the better to enjoy the wonders of nature and to forget for a while the search for Emile’s spouse. At one point, apparently lost, they’re given food and lodging by a poor farmer who touts the virtues of a family, formerly wealthy but always kindly, that lives on the other side of the hill. Intrigued, Emile wants to visit them. They walk for some miles through a rainstorm to the house of the family, where they are offered hospitality and fresh clothes. At dinner, the daughter sits shyly but notices the similarities between Emile and her ideal man, Telemachus. Her name, of course, is Sophy. Emile has heard that name in his tutor’s description of a hypothetical yet ideal wife; surprised, he begins to study her, while she studies him.

Finally, she speaks. “At the first sound of her voice, Emile surrenders; it is Sophy herself; there can be no doubt about it” (202). Clearly the two are smitten. The tutor is glad; his plans have worked out well. “Sophy’s mother smiles at the success of our schemes” (202). As for Sophy, “her tender heart is throbbing with joy, and it tells her that she has found Telemachus” (202).

The next day, Emile obtains a second invitation to visit so that he may return the borrowed clothes. Emile and the tutor take lodgings several miles away, and the following day they return to Sophy’s house. They tour the garden, Emile and Sophy off by themselves, engrossed in conversation. All seems to be well with them. After several visits, Emile becomes flustered by Sophy’s ongoing refusal to discuss a marital alliance. Finally, Emile learns that his wealth intimidates her, and that she fears he will give preference to his status over their relationship. With time, however, their courtship blooms, and financial concerns recede into the background.

Visits with Sophy take place once or twice a week for a few short hours. The rest of the time Emile spends exploring the countryside and taking an interest in the locals. Rich or poor, he helps them improve their holdings, builds tools for their farms, and pays here and there for a new cow or plow. All the while, however, Emile thinks of Sophy and hopes to catch a glimpse of her in the nearby town. One day, the tutor confronts Emile, asking, “What would you do if some one told you Sophy were dead?” What if she were to spurn Emile for another man?” (217) The tutor points out that, for all his virtues, Emile lacks discipline over his new passions and has become their slave, and there is nothing, not even crime, that “will stop a man who has no law but his heart's desires, who knows not how to resist his own passions” (218). Instead, the tutor suggests that Emile “learn to lose what may be taken from you […] and you will realise that the man who loses everything, only enjoys what he knows how to resign” (219). For a time at least, Emile should part from Sophy so that he can be worthy of returning to her.  

While separated from Sophy, Emile will journey to distant lands. People cannot know the world from travel books; they must visit other places in person. But it’s not necessary to visit all countries to get a sense of the world. For Rousseau, even 11 or 12 countries gives a person a sense of humankind.  

It’s possible, however, to visit many lands and fail to gain perspective from them. Some travelers “do not know how to think”; others “have no desire to learn” (222). Even a good observer will note that, with increasing migration and trade, European nations are losing their old distinctiveness. Most young people, poorly raised, simply adopt bad vices. However, “those who travel with a real desire to learn, all such return better and wiser than they went. Emile will travel in this fashion” (224).

As for his trade, Emile will find it difficult to earn his living honestly, on his own land, and with his hands, without becoming dependent on the whims of others and the depredations of bad governments or religions. To this end, during his travels, Emile will consider the politics and economics of each location, finally to focus on choosing an ideal place to settle down with his future family.

Aside from the sheer use of force, a nation’s government must draw its rationale from a “social contract . . . the foundation of all civil society” (227). This agreement is made between the individual citizen and the people as a whole, and if applied correctly, protects against abuse of the general will.  

Laws can legitimately only have a “general purpose,” lest they be directed against individuals. These laws are administered by the government, which executes the sovereign will of the people through magistrates. When the magisterial power is largely in the hands of the citizens, this is Democracy; when magistrates are few, this is Aristocracy; and when one man is in charge, this is Monarchy.

In general, “a democratic government is adapted to small states, an aristocratic government to those of moderate size, and a monarchy to large states” (230). Distorted mixed forms of government arise, and sometimes, for all the wars and tyranny it can cause, it might be better if there were no government at all.

All capital cities tend to be alike, so to learn about a nation, countries farther away from one’s own capital should be studied. Countries whose populations are decreasing are ill managed, while nations with rapidly growing native populations are well run. States with populations well distributed across the countryside are more secure, while those with huge urban centers are less so. To Rousseau, “France would be much more powerful if Paris were destroyed” (232). Cities are crowded and corrupt, whereas the countryside offers relief because nature engenders kindness.  

After two years of travel, Emile is ready to return to Sophy. Emile and Sophy are married, and on their wedding day the tutor takes them aside with a warning. Their mutual pleasure cannot last unless it is freely given; they must not demand attention but always cultivate it.

After the nuptial night has passed, the tutor speaks privately with Sophy. “If you want to have your husband always in your power, keep him at a distance. But let your sternness be the result of modesty not caprice” (237). After she becomes a mother, however, she should bridge the distance in favor of constant intimacy so that he can’t do without her.  

To Emile, he announces his retirement as tutor: “henceforward Sophy is your guardian” (238). A few months later, Emile discloses to his former tutor that he and Sophy will soon be parents, and he expects to take up the task of tutoring his own child. Emile adds, “But continue to be the teacher of the young teachers. Advise and control us; we shall be easily led; as long as I live I shall need you” (238).