d.
For zeal will supplement talent better than talent can supply what only
zeal can give.

A father, when he brings his children into existence and supports them,
has, in so doing, fulfilled only a third part of his task. To the
human race he owes men; to society, men fitted for society; to the
State, citizens. Every man who can pay this triple debt, and does not
pay it is a guilty man; and if he pays it by halves, he is perhaps more
guilty still. He who cannot fulfil the duties of a father has no right
to be a father. Not poverty, nor severe labor, nor human respect can
release him from the duty of supporting his children and of educating
them himself. Readers, you may believe my words. I prophesy to any
one who has natural feeling and neglects these sacred duties,--that he
will long shed bitter tears over this fault, and that for those tears
he will find no consolation.[4]

[It being supposed that the father is unable or unwilling to charge
himself personally with the education of his son, he must charge a
third person with it, must seek out a master, a teacher for the child.]

The qualifications of a good tutor are very freely discussed. The
first qualification I should require in him, and this one presupposes
many others, is, that he shall not be capable of selling himself.
There are employments so noble that we cannot fulfil them for money
without showing ourselves unworthy to fulfil them. Such an employment
is that of a soldier; such a one is that of a teacher. Who, then,
shall educate my child? I have told you already,--yourself. I cannot!
Then make for yourself a friend who can. I see no other alternative.

A teacher! what a great soul he ought to be! Truly, to form a man, one
must be either himself a father, or else something more than human.
And this is the office you calmly entrust to hirelings![5]

The Earliest Education.

Children's first impressions are purely those of feeling; they perceive
only pleasure and pain. Unable either to move about, or to grasp
anything with their hands, they need a great deal of time to form
sensations which represent, and so make them aware of objects outside
of themselves. But, during all this time, while these objects are
extending, and, as it were, receding from their eyes, assuming, to
them, form and dimension, the constantly recurring sensations begin to
subject the little creatures to the sway of habit. We see their eyes
incessantly turning t