CHAPTER XIII

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES AND ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE DIDACTIC MATERIAL:

GENERAL SENSIBILITY; THE TACTILE, THERMIC, BARIC, AND STEREOGNOSTIC

SENSES

The education of the tactile and the thermic senses go together, since

the warm bath, and heat in general, render the tactile sense more acute.

Since to exercise the tactile sense it is necessary to _touch_, bathing

the hands in warm water has the additional advantage of teaching the

child a principle of cleanliness--that of not touching objects with

hands that are not clean. I therefore apply the general notions of

practical life, regarding the washing of the hands, care of the nails,

to the exercises preparatory to the discrimination of tactile stimuli.

The limitation of the exercises of the tactile sense to the cushioned

tips of the fingers, is rendered necessary by practical life. It must be

made a necessary phase of _education_ because it prepares for a life in

which man exercises and uses the tactile sense through the medium of

these finger tips. Hence, I have the child wash his hands carefully with

soap, in a little basin; and in another basin I have him rinse them in a

bath of tepid water. Then I show him how to dry and rub his hands

gently, in this way preparing for the regular bath. I next teach the

child how to _touch_, that is, the manner in which he should touch

surfaces. For this it is necessary to take the finger of the child and

to draw _it very, very lightly_ over the surface.

Another particular of the technique is to teach the child to hold his

eyes closed while he touches, encouraging him to do this by telling him

that he will be able to feel the differences better, and so leading him

to distinguish, without the help of sight, the change of contact. He

will quickly learn, and will show that he enjoys the exercise. Often

after the introduction of such exercises, it is a common thing to have a

child come to you, and, closing his eyes, touch with great delicacy the

palm of your hand or the cloth of your dress, especially any silken or

velvet trimmings. They do verily _exercise_ the tactile sense. They

enjoy keenly touching any soft pleasant surface, and become exceedingly

keen in discriminating between the differences in the sandpaper cards.

The Didactic Material consists of; _a_--a rectangular wooden board

divided into two equal rectangles, one covered with very smooth paper,

or having the wood polished until a smooth surface is obtained; the

other covered with sandpaper, _b_--a tablet like the preceding covered

with alternating strips of smooth paper and sandpaper.

I also make use of a collection of paper slips, varying through many

grades from smooth, fine cardboard to coarsest sandpaper. The stuffs

described elsewhere are also used in these lessons.

As to the Thermic Sense, I use a set of little metal bowls, which are

filled with water at different degrees of temperature. These I try to

measure with a thermometer, so that there may be two containing water of

the same temperature.

[Illustration: THE CLOISTER SCHOOL OF THE FRANCISCAN NUNS IN ROME

Children playing a game with tablets of coloured silk]

[Illustration: (A) GIRL TOUCHING A LETTER AND BOY TELLING OBJECTS BY

WEIGHT.]

[Illustration: (B) ARRANGING TABLETS OF SILK IN THEIR CHROMATIC ORDER.

There are eight colours, and eight shades of each colour, making

sixty-four gradations in all.]

I have designed a set of utensils which are to be made of very light

metal, and filled with water. These have covers, and to each is attached

a thermometer. The bowl touched from the outside gives the desired

impression of heat.

I also have the children put their hands into cold, tepid, and warm

water, an exercise which they find most diverting. I should like to

repeat this exercise with the feet, but I have not bad an opportunity to

make the trial.

For the education of the baric sense (sense of weight), I use with great

success little wooden tablets, six by eight centimetres, having a

thickness of 1/2 centimetre. These tablets are in three different

qualities of wood, wistaria, walnut, and pine. They weigh respectively,

24, 18, and 12 grammes, making them differ in weight by 6 grammes. These

tablets should be very smooth; if possible, varnished in such a way that

every roughness shall be eliminated, but so that the natural colour of

the wood shall remain. The child, _observing_ the colour, _knows_ that

they are of differing weights, and this offers a means of controlling

the exercise. He takes two of the tablets in his hands, letting them

rest upon the palm at the base of his outstretched fingers. Then he

moves his hands up and down in order to gauge the weight. This movement

should come to be, little by little, almost insensible. We lead the

child to make his distinction purely through the difference in weight,

leaving out the guide of the different colours, and closing his eyes. He

learns to do this of himself, and takes great interest in "guessing."

The game attracts the attention of those near, who gather in a circle

about the one who has the tablets, and who take turns in _guessing_.

Sometimes the children spontaneously make use of the blindfold, taking

turns, and interspersing the work with peals of joyful laughter.

EDUCATION OF THE STEREOGNOSTIC SENSE

The education of this sense leads to the recognition of objects through

feeling, that is, through the simultaneous help of the tactile and

muscular senses.

Taking this union as a basis, we have made experiments which have given

marvellously successful educational results. I feel that for the help of

teachers these exercises should be described.

The first didactic material used by us is made up of the bricks and

cubes of Froebel. We call the attention of the child to the form of the

two solids, have him feel them carefully and accurately, with his eyes

open, repeating some phrase serving to fix his attention upon the

particulars of the forms presented. After this the child is told to

place the cubes to the right, the bricks to the left, always feeling

them, and without looking at them. Finally the exercise is repeated, by

the child blindfolded. Almost all the children succeed in the exercise,

and after two or three times, are able to eliminate every error. There

are twenty-four of the bricks and cubes in all, so that the attention

may be held for some time through this "game"--but undoubtedly the

child's pleasure is greatly increased by the fact of his being watched

by a group of his companions, all interested and eager.

One day a directress called my attention to a little girl of three

years, one of our very youngest pupils, who had repeated this exercise

perfectly. We seated the little girl comfortably in an armchair, close

to the table. Then, placing the twenty-four objects before her upon the

table, we mixed them, and calling the child's attention to the

difference in form, told her to place the cubes to the right and the

bricks to the left. When she was blindfolded she began the exercise as

taught by us, taking an object in each hand, feeling each and putting it

in its right place. Sometimes she took two cubes, or two bricks,

sometimes she found a brick in the right hand, a cube in the left. The

child had to recognise the form, and to remember throughout the exercise

the proper placing of the different objects. This seemed to me very

difficult for a child of three years.

But observing her I saw that she not only performed the exercise easily,

but that the movements with which we had taught her to feel the form

were superfluous. Indeed the instant she had taken the two objects in

her hands, if it so happened that she had taken a cube with the left

hand and a brick in the right, she _exchanged_ them _immediately_, and

_then_ began the laborious feeling the form which we had taught and

which she perhaps, believed to be obligatory. But the objects had been

recognised by her through _the first light touch_, that is, the

_recognition_ was _contemporaneous_ to _the taking_.

Continuing my study of the subject, I found that this little girl was

possessed of a remarkable _functional ambidexterity_--I should be very

glad to make a wider study of this phenomenon having in view the

desirability of a simultaneous education of both hands.

I repeated the exercise with other children and found that they

_recognise_ the objects before feeling their contours. This was

particularly true of the _little ones_. Our educational methods in this

respect furnished a remarkable exercise in associative gymnastics,

leading to a rapidity of judgment which was truly surprising and had

the advantage of being perfectly adapted to very young children.

These exercises of the stereognostic sense may be multiplied in many

ways--they amuse the children who find delight in the recognition of a

stimulus, as in the thermic exercises; for example--they may raise any

small objects, toy soldiers, little balls, and, above all, the various

_coins_ in common use. They come to discriminate between small forms

varying very slightly, such as corn, wheat, and rice.

They are very proud of _seeing without eyes_, holding out their hands

and crying, "Here are my eyes!" "I can see with my hands!" Indeed, our

little ones walking in the ways we have planned, make us marvel over

their unforeseen progress, surprising us daily. Often, while they are

wild with delight over some new conquest,--we watch, in deepest wonder

and meditation.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES OF TASTE AND SMELL

This phase of sense education is most difficult, and I have not as yet

had any satisfactory results to record. I can only say that the

exercises ordinarily used in the tests of psychometry do not seem to me

to be practical for use with young children.

The olfactory sense in children is not developed to any great extent,

and this makes it difficult to attract their attention by means of this

sense. We have made use of one test which has not been repeated often

enough to form the basis of a method. We have the child smell fresh

violets, and jessamine flowers. We then blindfold him, saying, "Now we

are going to present you with flowers." A little friend then holds a

bunch of violets under the child's nose, that he may guess the name of

the flower. For greater or less intensify we present fewer flowers, or

even one single blossom.

[Illustration: (A) DRAWING TABLE AND INSET. (B) WOODEN TABLETS. These

are partly covered with sandpaper to give rough and smooth surfaces.

(C) SOLID INSETS. With these the child, working by himself, learns to

differentiate objects according to thickness, height, and size.

_Copyright, 1912, by Carl R. Byoir_]

[Illustration: (A) BROAD STAIR. (B) LONG STAIR. (C) TOWER. Blocks by

which children are taught thickness, length, size.

_Copyright, 1912 by Carl R. Byoir_]

But this part of education, like that of the sense of taste, can be

obtained by the child during the luncheon hour;--when he can learn to

recognise various odours.

As to taste, the method of touching the tongue with various solutions,

bitter or acid, sweet, salty, is perfectly applicable. Children of four

years readily lend themselves to such games, which serve as a reason for

showing them how to rinse their mouths perfectly. The children enjoy

recognising various flavours, and learn, after each test, to fill a

glass with tepid water, and carefully rinse their months. In this way

the exercise for the sense of taste is also an exercise in hygiene.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSE OF VISION

_I. Differential Visual Perception of Dimensions_

_First._ Solid Insets: This material consists of three solid blocks of

wood each 55 centimetres long, 6 centimetres high and 8 centimetres

wide. Each block contains ten wooden pieces, set into corresponding

holes. These pieces are cylindrical in shape and are to be handled by

means of a little wooden or brass button which is fixed in the centre of

the top. The cases of cylinders are in appearance much like the cases of

weights used by chemists. In the first set of the series, the cylinders

are all of equal height (55 millimetres) but differ in diameter. The

smallest cylinder has a diameter of 1 centimetre, and the others

increase in diameter at the rate of 1/2 centimetre. In the second set,

the cylinders are all of equal diameter, corresponding to half the

diameter of the largest cylinder in the preceding series--(27

millimetres). The cylinders in this set differ in height, the first

being merely a little disk only a centimetre high, the others increase 5

millimetres each, the tenth one being 55 millimetres high. In the third

set, the cylinders differ both in height and diameter, the first being

1 centimetre high and 1 centimetre in diameter and each succeeding one

increasing 1/2 centimetre in height and diameter. With these insets, the

child, working by himself, learns to differentiate objects according to

_thickness_, according to _height_, and according to _size_.

In the schoolroom, these three sets may be played with by three children

gathered about a table, an exchange of games adding variety. The child

takes the cylinders out of the moulds, mixes them upon the table, and

then puts each back into its corresponding opening. These objects are

made of hard pine, polished and varnished.

_Second._ Large pieces in graded dimensions:--There are three sets of

blocks which come under this head, and it is desirable to have two of

each of these sets in every school.

(_a_) Thickness: this set consists of objects which vary from _thick_ to

_thin_. There are ten quadrilateral prisms, the largest of which has a

base of 10 centimetres, the others decreasing by 1 centimetre. The

pieces are of equal length, 20 centimetres. These prisms are stained a

dark brown. The child mixes them, scattering them over the little

carpet, and then puts them in order, placing one against the other

according to the graduations of thickness, observing that the length

shall correspond exactly. These blocks, taken from the first to the

last, form a species of _stair_, the steps of which grow broader toward

the top. The child may begin with the thinnest piece or with the

thickest, as suits his pleasure. The control of the exercise is not

_certain_, as it was in the solid cylindrical insets. There, the large

cylinders could not enter the small opening, the taller ones would

project beyond the top of the block, etc. In this game of the Big Stair,

the _eye_ of the child can easily recognise an error, since if he

mistakes, the _stair_ is irregular, that is, there will be a high step,

behind which, the step which should have ascended, decreases.

(_b_) Length: Long and Short Objects:--This set consists of _ten rods_.

These are four-sided, each face being 3 centimetres. The first rod is a

metre long, and the last a decimetre. The intervening rods decrease,

from first to last, 1 decimetre each. Each space of 1 decimetre is

painted alternately _red_ or _blue_. The rods, when placed close to each

other, must be so arranged that the colours correspond, forming so many

transverse stripes--the whole set when arranged has the appearance of a

rectangular triangle made up of organ pipes, which decrease on the side

of the hypothenuse.

The child arranges the rods which have first been scattered and mixed.

He puts them together according to the graduation of length, and

observes the correspondence of colours. This exercise also offers a very

evident control of error, for the regularity of the decreasing length of

the stairs along the hypothenuse will be altered if the rods are not

properly placed.

This most important set of blocks will have its principal application in

arithmetic, as we shall see. With it, one may count from one to ten and

may construct the addition and other tables, and it may constitute the

first steps in the study of the decimal and metric system.

(_c_) Size: Objects, Larger and Smaller:--This set is made up of ten

wooden cubes painted in rose-coloured enamel. The largest cube has a

base of 10 centimetres, the smallest, of 1 centimetre, the intervening

ones decrease 1 centimetre each. A little green cloth carpet goes with

these blocks. This may be of oilcloth or cardboard. The game consists of

building the cubes up, one upon another, in the order of their

dimensions, constructing a little tower of which the largest cube forms

the base and the smallest the apex. The carpet is placed on the floor,

and the cubes are scattered upon it. As the tower is built upon the

carpet, the child goes through the exercise of kneeling, rising, etc.

The control is given by the irregularity of the tower as it decreases

toward the apex. A cube misplaced reveals itself, because it breaks the

line. The most common error made by the children in playing with these

blocks at first, is that of placing the second cube as the base and

placing the first cube upon it, thus confusing the two largest blocks. I

have noted that the same error was made by deficient children in the

repeated trials I made with the tests of De Sanctis. At the question,

"Which is the largest?" the child would take, not the largest, but that

nearest it in size.

Any of these three sets of blocks may be used by the children in a

slightly different game. The pieces may be mixed upon a carpet or table,

and then put in order upon another table at some distance. As he carries

each piece, the child must walk without letting his attention wander,

since he must remember the dimensions of the piece for which he is to

look among the mixed blocks.

The games played in this way are excellent for children of four or five

years; while the simple work of arranging the pieces in order upon the

same carpet where they have been mixed is more adapted to the little

ones between three and four years of age. The construction of the tower

with the pink cubes is very attractive to little ones of less than three

years, who knock it down and build it up time after time.

[Illustration: A FEW OF THE MANY GEOMETRIC INSETS OF WOOD USED TO TEACH

FORM

_Copyright, 1912, by Carl R. Byoir_]

[Illustration: (A) GEOMETRIC INSETS OF WOOD, AND FRAME. The frame

furnishes the control necessary for exactness of work. (B) CABINET.

(For storing geometric inset frames.)

_Copyright, 1912, by Carl R. Byoir_]

_II. Differential Visual Perception of Form and Visual-tactile-muscular

Perception_

_Didactic Material._ Plane geometric _insets of wood_: The idea of these

insets goes back to Itard and was also applied by Seguin.

In the school for deficients I had made and applied these insets in the

same form used by my illustrious predecessors. In these there were two

large tablets of wood placed one above the other and fastened together.

The lower board was left solid, while the upper one was perforated by

various geometric figures. The game consisted in placing in these

openings the corresponding wooden figures which, in order that they

might be easily handled, were furnished with a little brass knob.

In my school for deficients, I had multiplied the games calling for

these insets, and distinguished between those used to teach colour and

those used to teach form. The insets for teaching colour were all

circles, those used for teaching form were all painted blue. I had great

numbers of these insets made in graduations of colour and in an infinite

variety of form. This material was most expensive and exceedingly

cumbersome.

In many later experiments with normal children, I have, after many

trials, completely excluded the plane geometric insets as an aid to the

teaching of colour, since this material offers no control of errors, the

child's task being that of _covering_ the forms before him.

I have kept the geometric insets, but have given them a new and original

aspect. The form in which they are now made was suggested to me by a

visit to the splendid manual training school in the Reformatory of St.

Michael in Rome. I saw there wooden models of geometric figures, which

could be set into corresponding frames or placed above corresponding

forms. The scope of these materials was to lead to exactness in the

making of the geometric pieces in regard to control of dimension and

form; the _frame_ furnishing the _control_ necessary for the exactness

of the work.

This led me to think of making modifications in my geometric insets,

making use of the frame as well as of the inset I therefore made a

rectangular tray, which measured 30 x 20 centimetres. This tray was

painted a dark blue and was surrounded by a dark frame. It was furnished

with a cover so arranged that it would contain six of the square frames

with their insets. The advantage of this tray is that the forms may be

changed, thus allowing us to present any combination we choose. I have a

number of blank wooden squares which make it possible to present as few

as two or three geometric forms at a time, the other spaces being filled

in by the blanks. To this material I have added a set of white cards, 10

centimetres square. These cards form a series presenting the geometric

forms in other aspects. In the _first_ of the series, the form is cut

from blue paper and mounted upon the card. In the _second_ box of cards,

the _contour_ of the same figures is mounted in the same blue paper,

forming an outline one centimetre in width. On the _third_ set of cards

the contour of the geometric form is _outlined by a blank line_. We have

then the tray, the collection of small frames with their corresponding

insets, and the set of the cards in three series.

[Illustration: Some of the Card Forms used in the exercises with the

three series of cards.

_Copyright, 1912, by Carl R. Byoir_]

I also designed a case containing six trays. The front of this box may

be lowered when the top is raised and the trays may be drawn out as one

opens the drawers of a desk. Each _drawer_ contains six of the small

frames with their respective insets. In the first drawer I keep the four

plain wooden squares and two frames, one containing a rhomboid, and the

other a trapezoid. In the second, I have a series consisting of a

square, and five rectangles of the same length, but varying in width.

The third drawer contains six circles which diminish in diameter. In the

fourth are six triangles, in the fifth, five polygons from a pentagon to

a decagon. The sixth drawer contains six curved figures (an ellipse, an

oval, etc., and a flower-like figure formed by four crossed arcs).

_Exercise with the Insets._ This exercise consists in presenting to the

child the large frame or tray in which we may arrange the figures as we

wish to present them. We proceed to take out the insets, mix them upon

the table, and then invite the child to put them back in place. This

game may be played by even the younger children and holds the attention

for a long period, though not for so long a time as the exercise with

the cylinders. Indeed, I have never seen a child repeat this exercise

more than five or six times. The child, in fact, expends much energy

upon this exercise. He must _recognise_ the form and must look at it

carefully.

At first many of the children only succeed in placing the insets after

many attempts, trying for example to place a triangle in a trapezoid,

then in a rectangle, etc. Or when they have taken a rectangle, and

recognise where it should go, they will still place it with the long

side of the inset across the short side of the opening, and will only

after many attempts, succeed in placing it. After three or four

successive lessons, the child recognises the geometric figures with

_extreme_ facility and places the insets with a security which has a

tinge of nonchalance, or of _slight contempt for an exercise that is too

easy_. This is the moment in which the child may be led to a methodical

observation of the forms. We change the forms in the frame and pass from

contrasted frames to analogous ones. The exercise is easy for the child,

who habituates himself to placing the pieces in their frames without

errors or false attempts.

The first period of these exercises is at the time when the child is

obliged to make repeated _trials_ with figures that are strongly

contrasted in form. The _recognition_ is greatly helped by associating

with the visual sense the muscular-tactile perception of the forms. I

have the child touch[12] the contour of the piece with the _index

finger_ of _his right hand_, and then have him repeat this with the

contour of the frame into which the pieces must fit. We succeed in

making this a _habit_ with the child. This is very easily attained,

since all children love to _touch_ things. I have already learned,

through my work with deficient children, that among the various forms of

sense memory that of the muscular sense is the most precocious. Indeed,

many children who have not arrived at the point of recognising a _figure

by looking at it_, could recognise it by _touching it_, that is, by

computing the movements necessary to the following of its contour. The

same is true of the greater number of normal children;--confused as to

where to place a figure, they turn it about trying in vain to fit it in,

yet as soon as they have touched the two contours of the piece and its

frame, they succeed in placing it perfectly. Undoubtedly, the

association of the _muscular-tactile_ sense with that of _vision_, aids

in a most remarkable way the perception of forms and fixes them in

memory.

[12] Here and elsewhere throughout the book the word "touch" is

used not only to express contact between the fingers and an

object, but the moving of fingers or hand over an object or

its outline.

In such exercises, the control is absolute, as it was in the solid

insets. The figure can only enter the corresponding frame. This makes it

possible for the child to work by himself, and to accomplish a genuine

sensory auto-education, in the visual perception of form.

_Exercise with the three series of cards. First series._ We give the

child the wooden forms and the cards upon which the white figure is

mounted. Then we mix the cards upon the table; the child must arrange

them in a line upon his table (which he loves to do), and then place the

corresponding wooden pieces upon the cards. Here the control lies in the

eyes. The child must _recognise_ this figure, and place the wooden piece

upon it so perfectly that it will cover and hide the paper figure. The

eye of the child here corresponds to the frame, which _materially_ led

him at first to bring the two pieces together. In addition to covering

the figure, the child is to accustom himself to _touching_ the contour

of the mounted figures as a part of the exercise (the child always

voluntarily follows those movements); and after he has placed the wooden

inset he again touches the contour, adjusting with his finger the

superimposed piece until it exactly covers the form beneath.

_Second Series._ We give a number of cards to the child together with

the corresponding wooden insets. In this second series, the figures are

repeated by an outline of blue paper. The child through these exercises

is passing gradually from the _concrete_ to the _abstract_. At first, he

handled only _solid objects_. He then passed to a _plane figure_, that

is, to the plane which in itself does not exist. He is now passing to

the _line_, but this line does not represent for him the abstract

contour of a plane figure. It is to him the _path which he has so often

followed with his index finger_; this line is the _trace_ of a

_movement_. Following again the contour of the figure with his finger,

the child receives the impression of actually leaving a trace, for the

figure is covered by his finger and appears as he moves it. It is the

eye now which guides the movement, but it must be remembered that this

movement was _already prepared_ for when the child touched the contours

of the solid pieces of wood.

_Third Series._ We now present to the child the cards upon which the

figures are drawn in black, giving him, as before, the corresponding

wooden pieces. Here, he has actually passed to the _line_; that is, to

an abstraction, yet here, too, there is the idea of the result of a

movement.

This cannot be, it is true, the trace left by the finger, but, for

example, that of a pencil which is guided by the hand in the same

movements made before. These geometric figures in simple outline _have

grown out_ of a gradual series of representations which were concrete to

vision and touch. These representations return to the mind of the child

when he performs the exercise of superimposing the corresponding wooden

figures.

_III. Differential Visual Perception of Colours:--Education of the

Chromatic Sense_

In many of our _lessons on the colours_, we make use of pieces of

brightly-coloured stuffs, and of balls covered with wool of different

colours. The didactic material for the _education of the chromatic_

sense is the following, which I have established after a long series of

tests made upon normal children, (in the institute for deficients, I

used as I have said above, the geometric insets). The present material

consists of small flat tablets, which are wound with coloured wool or

silk. These tablets have a little wooden border at each end which

prevents the silk-covered card from touching the table. The child is

also taught to take hold of the piece by these wooden extremities, so

that he need not soil the delicate colours. In this way, we are able to

use this material for a long time without having to renew it.

[Illustration: (A) LACING. (B) SHOE BUTTONING. (C) BUTTONING OF OTHER

GARMENTS. (D) HOOKS AND EYES. Frames illustrating the different

processes of dressing and undressing.

_Copyright, 1912, by Carl R. Byoir_]

[Illustration: TABLETS WOUND WITH COLOURED SILK

Used for educating the chromatic sense. The tablets are shown in the

boxes in which they are kept.

_Copyright, 1912, by Carl R. Byoir_]

I have chosen eight tints, and each one has with it eight gradations of

different intensity of colour. There are, therefore, sixty-four

colour-tablets in all. The eight tints selected are _black_ (_from grey

to white_), _red_, _orange_, _yellow_, _green_, _blue_, _violet_ and

_brown_. We have duplicate boxes of these sixty-four colours, giving us

two of each exercise. The entire set, therefore, consists of one hundred

twenty-eight tablets. They are contained in two boxes, each divided into

eight equal compartments so that one box may contain sixty-four tablets.

_Exercises with the Colour-tablets._ For the earliest of these

exercises, we select three strong colours: for example, _red_, _blue_,

and _yellow_, in pairs. These six tablets we place upon the table before

the child. Showing him one of the colours, we ask him to find its

duplicate among the mixed tablets upon the table. In this way, we have

him arrange the colour-tablets in a column, two by two, pairing them

according to colour.

The number of tablets in this game may be increased until the eight

colours, or sixteen tablets, are given at once. When the strongest tones

have been presented, we may proceed to the presentation of lighter

tones, in the same way. Finally, we present two or three tablets of the

same colour, but of different tone, showing the child how to arrange

these in order of gradation. In this way, the eight gradations are

finally presented.

Following this, we place before the child the eight gradations of two

different colours (red and blue); he is shown how to separate the groups

and then arrange each group in gradation. As we proceed we offer groups

of more nearly related colours; for example, blue and violet, yellow and

orange, etc.

In one of the "Children's Houses," I have seen the following game played

with the greatest success and interest, and with surprising _rapidity_.

The directress places upon a table, about which the children are seated,

as many colour groups as there are children, for example, three. She

then calls each child's attention to the colour each is to select, or

which she assigns to him. Then, she mixes the three groups of colours

upon the table. Each child takes rapidly from the mixed heap of tablets

all the gradations of his colour, and proceeds to arrange the tablets,

which, when thus placed in a line, give the appearance of a strip of

shaded ribbon.

In another "House," I have seen the children take the entire box, empty

the sixty-four colour-tablets upon the table and after carefully mixing

them, rapidly collect them into groups and arrange them in gradation,

constructing a species of little carpet of delicately coloured and

intermingling tints. The children very quickly acquire an ability before

which we stand amazed. Children of three years are able to put all of

the tints into gradation.

_Experiments in Colour-memory._ Experiments in colour-memory may be made

by showing the child a tint, allowing him to look at it as long as he

will, and then asking him to go to a distant table upon which all of the

colours are arranged and to select from among them the tint similar to

the one at which he has looked. The children succeed in this game

remarkably, committing only slight errors. Children of five years enjoy

this immensely, taking great pleasure in comparing the two spools and

judging as to whether they have chosen correctly.

At the beginning of my work, I made use of an instrument invented by

Pizzoli. This consisted of a small brown disk having a half-moon shape

opening at the top. Various colours were made to pass behind this

opening, by means of a rotary disk which was composed of strips of

various colours. The teacher called the attention of the child to a

certain colour, then turned the disk, asking him to indicate the same

disk when it again showed itself in the opening. This exercise rendered

the child inactive, preventing him from controlling the material. It is

not, therefore, an instrument which can promote the _education_ of the

senses.

EXERCISE FOR THE DISCRIMINATION OF SOUNDS

It would be desirable to have in this connection the didactic material

used for the "auricular education" in the principal institutions for

deaf mutes in Germany and America. These exercises are an introduction

to the acquisition of language, and serve in a very special way to

centre the children's discriminative attention upon the "modulations of

the sound of the human voice."

With very young children linguistic education must occupy a most

important place. Another aim of such exercises is to educate the ear of

the child to noises so that he shall accustom himself to distinguish

every slight noise and compare it with _sounds_, coming to resent harsh

or disordered noises. Such sense education has a value in that it

exercises aesthetic taste, and may be applied in a most noteworthy way

to practical discipline. We all know how the younger children disturb

the order of the room by shouts, and by the noise of over-turned

objects.

The rigorous scientific education of the sense of hearing is not

practically applicable to the didactic method. This is true because the

child cannot _exercise himself through his own activity_ as he does for

the other senses. Only one child at a time can work with any instrument

producing the gradation of sounds. In other words, _absolute silence_ is

necessary for the discrimination of sounds.

[Illustration]

Signorina Maccheroni, Directress, first of the "Children's House" in

Milan and later in the one in Franciscan Convent at Rome, has invented

and has had manufactured a series of thirteen bells hung upon a wooden

frame. These bells are to all appearances, identical, but the vibrations

brought about by a blow of a hammer produce the following thirteen

notes:

The set consists of a double series of thirteen bells and there are four

hammers. Having struck one of the bells in the first series, the child

must find the corresponding sound in the second. This exercise presents

grave difficulty, as the child does not know how to strike each time

with the same force, and therefore produces sounds which vary in

intensity. Even when the teacher strikes the bells, the children have

difficulty in distinguishing between sounds. So we do not feel that this

instrument in its present form is entirely practical.

For the discrimination of sounds, we use Pizzoli's series of little

whistles. For the gradation of noises, we use small boxes filled with

different substances, more or less fine (sand or pebbles). The noises

are produced by shaking the boxes.

In the lessons for the sense of hearing I proceed as follows: I have the

teachers establish silence in the usual way and then I _continue_ the

work, making the silence more profound. I say, "St! St!" in a series of

modulations, now sharp and short, now prolonged and light as a whisper.

The children, little by little, become fascinated by this. Occasionally

I say, "More silent still--more silent."

I then begin the sibilant St! St! again, making it always lighter and

repeating "More silent still," in a barely audible voice. Then I say

still in a low whisper, "Now, I hear the clock, now I can hear the

buzzing of a fly's wings, now I can hear the whisper of the trees in the

garden."

The children, ecstatic with joy, sit in such absolute and complete

silence that the room seems deserted; then I whisper, "Let us close our

eyes." This exercise repeated, so habituates the children to immobility

and to absolute silence that, when one of them interrupts, it needs only

a syllable, a gesture to call him back immediately to perfect order.

In the silence, we proceeded to the production of sounds and noises,

making these at first strongly contrasted, then, more nearly alike.

Sometimes we present the comparisons between noise and sound. I believe

that the best results can be obtained with the primitive means employed

by Itard in 1805. He used the drum and the bell. His plan was a

graduated series of drums for the noises,--or, better, for the heavy

harmonic sounds, since these belong to a musical instrument,--and a

series of bells. The diapason, the whistles, the boxes, are not

attractive to the child, and do not educate the sense of hearing as do

these other instruments. There is an interesting suggestion in the fact

that the two great human institutions, that of hate (war), and that of

love (religion), have adopted these two opposite instruments, the drum

and the bell.

I believe that after establishing silence it would be educational to

ring well-toned bells, now calm and sweet, now clear and ringing,

sending their vibrations through the child's whole body. And when,

besides the education of the ear, we have produced a _vibratory_

education of the whole body, through these wisely selected sounds of the

bells, giving a peace that pervades the very fibres of his being, then I

believe these young bodies would be sensitive to crude noises, and the

children would come to dislike, and to cease from making, disordered and

ugly noises.

In this way one whose ear has been trained by a musical education

suffers from strident or discordant notes. I need give no illustration

to make clear the importance of such education for the masses in

childhood. The new generation would be more calm, turning away from the

confusion and the discordant sounds, which strike the ear to-day in one

of the vile tenements where the poor live, crowded together, left by us

to abandon themselves to the lower, more brutal human instincts.

_Musical Education_

This must be carefully guided by method. In general, we see little

children pass by the playing of some great musicians as an animal would

pass. They do not perceive the delicate complexity of sounds. The street

children gather about the organ grinder, crying out as if to hail with

joy the _noises_ which will come instead of sounds.

For the musical education we must _create instruments_ as well as music.

The scope of such an instrument in addition to the discrimination of

sounds, is to awaken a sense of rhythm, and, so to speak, to give the

_impulse_ toward calm and co-ordinate movements to those muscles already

vibrating in the peace and tranquillity of immobility.

I believe that stringed instruments (perhaps some very much simplified

harp) would be the most convenient. The stringed instruments together

with the drum and the bells form the trio of the classic instruments of

humanity. The harp is the instrument of "the intimate life of the

individual." Legend places it in the hand of Orpheus, folk-lore puts it

into fairy hands, and romance gives it to the princess who conquers the

heart of a wicked prince.

The teacher who turns her back upon her scholars to play, (far too often

badly), will never be the _educator_ of their musical sense.

The child needs to be charmed in every way, by the glance as well as by

the pose. The teacher who, bending toward them, gathering them about

her, and leaving them free to stay or go, touches the chords, in a

simple rhythm, puts herself in communication with them, _in relation

with their very souls_. So much the better if this touch can be

accompanied by her _voice_, and the children left free to follow her, no

one being obliged to sing. In this way she can select as "adapted to

education," those songs which were followed by all the children. So she

may regulate the complexity of rhythm to various ages, for she will see

now only the older children following the rhythm, now, also the little

ones. At any rate, I believe that simple and primitive instruments are

the ones best adapted to the awakening of music in the soul of the

little child.

I have tried to have the Directress of the "Children's House" in Milan,

who is a gifted musician, make a number of trials, and experiments,

with a view to finding out more about the muscular capacity of young

children. She has made many trials with the pianoforte, observing how

the children _are not sensitive_ to the musical _tone_, but only to the

_rhythm_. On a basis of rhythm she arranged simple little dances, with

the intention of studying the influence of the rhythm itself upon the

co-ordination of muscular movements. She was greatly surprised to

discover the _educational disciplinary_ effect of such music. Her

children, who had been led with great wisdom and art through liberty to

a _spontaneous_ ordering of their acts and movements, had nevertheless

lived in the streets and courts, and had an almost universal habit of

jumping.

Being a faithful follower of the method of liberty, and not considering

that _jumping_ was a wrong act, she had never corrected them.

She now noticed that as she multiplied and repeated the rhythm

exercises, the children little by little left off their ugly jumping,

until finally it was a thing of the past. The directress one day asked

for an explanation of this change of conduct. Several little ones looked

at her without saying anything. The older children gave various replies,

whose meaning was the same.

"It isn't nice to jump."

"Jumping is ugly."

"It's rude to jump."

This was certainly a beautiful triumph for our method!

This experience shows that it is possible to educate the child's

_muscular sense_, and it shows how exquisite the refinement of this

sense may be as it develops in relation to the _muscular memory_, and

side by side with the other forms of sensory memory.

_Tests for Acuteness of Hearing_

The only entirely successful experiments which we have made so far in

the "Children's Houses" are those of the _clock_, and of the _lowered_

or whispered _voice_. The trial is purely empirical, and does not lend

itself to the measuring of the sensation, but it is, however, most

useful in that it helps us to an approximate knowledge of the child's

auditory acuteness.

The exercise consists in calling attention, when perfect silence has

been established, to the ticking of the clock, and to all the little

noises not commonly audible to the ear. Finally we call the little ones,

one by one from an adjoining room, pronouncing each name in a low voice.

In preparing for such an exercise it is necessary to _teach_ the

children the real meaning of _silence_.

Toward this end I have several _games_ of _silence_, which help in a

surprising way to strengthen the remarkable discipline of our children.

I call the children's attention to myself, telling them to see how

silent I can be. I assume different positions; standing, sitting, and

maintain each pose _silently, without movement_. A finger moving can

produce a noise, even though it be imperceptible. We may breathe so that

we may be heard. But I maintain _absolute_ silence, which is not an easy

thing to do. I call a child, and ask him to do as I am doing. He adjusts

his feet to a better position, and this makes a noise! He moves an arm,

stretching it out upon the arm of his chair; it is a noise. His

breathing is not altogether silent, it is not tranquil, absolutely

unheard as mine is.

During these manoeuvres on the part of the child, and while my brief

comments are followed by intervals of immobility and silence, the other

children are watching and listening. Many of them are interested in the

fact, which they have never noticed before; namely, that we make so many

noises of which we are not conscious, and that there are _degrees of

silence_. There is an absolute silence where nothing, _absolutely

nothing_ moves. They watch me in amazement when I stand in the middle of

the room, so quietly that it is really as if "I were not." Then they

strive to imitate me, and to do even better. I call attention here and

there to a foot that moves, almost inadvertently. The attention of the

child is called to every part of his body in an anxious eagerness to

attain to immobility.

When the children are trying in this way, there is established a silence

very different from that which we carelessly call by that name.

It seems as if life gradually vanishes, and that the room becomes,

little by little, empty, as if there were no longer anyone in it. Then

we begin to hear the tick-tock of the clock, and this sound seems to

grow in intensity as the silence becomes absolute. From without, from

the court which before seemed silent, there come varied noises, a bird

chirps, a child passes. The children sit fascinated by that silence as

if by some conquest of their own. "Here," says the directress, "here

there is no longer anyone; the children have all gone away."

Having arrived at that point, we darken the windows, and tell the

children to close their eyes, resting their heads upon their hands. They

assume this position, and in the darkness the absolute silence returns.

"Now listen," we say. "A soft voice is going to call your name." Then

going to a room behind the children, and standing within the open door,

I call in a low voice, lingering over the syllables as if I were

calling from across the mountains. This voice, almost occult, seems to

reach the heart and to call to the soul of the child. Each one as he is

called, lifts his head, opens his eyes as if altogether happy, then

rises, silently seeking not to move the chair, and walks on the tips of

his toes, so quietly that he is scarcely heard. Nevertheless his step

resounds in the silence, and amid the immobility which persists.

Having reached the door, with a joyous face, he leaps into the room,

choking back soft outbursts of laughter. Another child may come to hide

his face against my dress, another, turning, will watch his companions

sitting like statues silent and waiting. The one who is called feels

that he is privileged, that he has received a gift, a prize. And yet

they know that all will be called, "beginning with the most silent one

in all the room." So each one tries to merit by his perfect silence the

certain call. I once saw a little one of three years try to suffocate a

sneeze, and succeed! She held her breath in her little breast, and

resisted, coming out victorious. A most surprising effort!

This game delights the little ones beyond measure. Their intent faces,

their patient immobility, reveal the enjoyment of a great pleasure. In

the beginning, when the soul of the child was unknown to me, I had

thought of showing them sweetmeats and little toys, promising to give

them to the ones who were _called_, supposing that the gifts would be

necessary to persuade the child to make the necessary effort. But I soon

found that this was unnecessary.

The children, after they had made the effort necessary to maintain

silence, enjoyed the sensation, took pleasure in the _silence_ itself.

They were like ships safe in a tranquil harbour, happy in having

experienced something new, and to have won a victory over themselves.

This, indeed, was their recompense. They _forgot_ the promise of sweets,

and no longer cared to take the toys, which I had supposed would attract

them. I therefore abandoned that useless means, and saw, with surprise,

that the game became constantly more perfect, until even children of

three years of age remained immovable in the silence throughout the time

required to call the entire forty children out of the room! It was then

that I learned that the soul of the child has its own reward, and its

peculiar spiritual pleasures. After such exercises it seemed to me that

the children came closer to me, certainly they became more obedient,

more gentle and sweet. We had, indeed, been isolated from the world, and

had passed several minutes during which the communion between us was

very close, I wishing for them and calling to them, and they receiving

in the perfect silence the voice which was directed personally toward

each one of them, crowning each in turn with happiness.

_A Lesson in Silence_

I am about to describe a lesson which _proved_ most successful in

teaching the perfect silence to which it is possible to attain. One day

as I was about to enter one of the "Children's Houses," I met in the

court a mother who held in her arms her little baby of four months. The

little one was swaddled, as is still the custom among the people of

Rome--an infant thus in the swaddling bands is called by us a _pupa_.

This tranquil little one seemed the incarnation of peace. I took her in

my arms, where she lay quiet and good. Still holding her I went toward

the schoolroom, from which the children now ran to meet me. They always

welcomed me thus, throwing their arms about me, clinging to my skirts,

and almost tumbling me over in their eagerness. I smiled at them,

showing them the "_pupa_." They understood and skipped about me looking

at me with eyes brilliant with pleasure, but did not touch me through

respect for the little one that I held in my arms.

I went into the schoolroom with the children clustered about me. We sat

down, I seating myself in a large chair instead of, as usual, in one of

their little chairs. In other words, I seated myself solemnly. They

looked at my little one with a mixture of tenderness and joy. None of us

had yet spoken a word. Finally I said to them, "I have brought you a

little teacher." Surprised glances and laughter. "A little teacher, yes,

because none of you know how to be quiet as she does." At this all the

children changed their positions and became quiet. "Yet no one holds his

limbs and feet as quietly as she." Everyone gave closer attention to the

position of limbs and feet. I looked at them smiling, "Yes, but they can

never be as quiet as hers. You move a little bit, but she, not at all;

none of you can be as quiet as she." The children looked serious. The

idea of the superiority of the little teacher seemed to have reached

them. Some of them smiled, and seemed to say with their eyes that the

swaddling bands deserved all the merit. "Not one of you can be silent,

voiceless as she." General silence. "It is not possible to be as silent

as she, because,--listen to her breathing--how delicate it is; come near

to her on your tiptoes."

Several children rose, and came slowly forward on tiptoe, bending toward

the baby. Great silence. "None of you can breathe so silently as she."

The children looked about amazed, they had never thought that even when

sitting quietly they were making noises, and that the silence of a

little babe is more profound than the silence of grown people. They

almost ceased to breathe. I rose. "Go out quietly, quietly," I said,

"walk on the tips of your toes and make no noise." Following them I

said, "And yet I still hear some sounds, but she, the baby, walks with

me and makes no sound. She goes out silently!" The children smiled. They

understood the truth and the jest of my words. I went to the open

window, and placed the baby in the arms of the mother who stood watching

us.

The little one seemed to have left behind her a subtle charm which

enveloped the souls of the children. Indeed, there is in nature nothing

more sweet than the silent breathing of a new-born babe. There is an

indescribable majesty about this human life which in repose and silence

gathers strength and newness of life. Compared to this, Wordsworth's

description of the silent peace of nature seems to lose its force. "What

calm, what quiet! The one sound the drip of the suspended oar." The

children, too, felt the poetry and beauty in the peaceful silence of a

new-born human life.

The Montessori Method Scientific Pedagogy as Applied to Child Education in 'The Children's Houses' with Additions and Revisions by the Author · 第 13 / 22 章