greatly, when the limit of visual acuteness has been reached.
Therefore, insufficient light would tend to make work slower,
unless the pupil increased acuteness by approaching the
object more closely. Thus myopia constitutes a positive
adaptation to the defective conditions of work, enabling the
pupil to work more rapidly." [6]
[Footnote 6: Bronardet and Mosny, _Hygiène Scolaire_. Boillière,
Paris, 1914, pp. 142, 143, 430, 496.]
It would seem therefore natural to say: let the child find himself a
better lighted place; if the blackboard is at some distance from him,
let him come nearer to it; if the insufficient light retards his work,
let him go more slowly; if the questions at issue are such harmless
things as changing a place, advancing a step or two, taking a few
minutes longer over a task--what tyrant on earth would deny such a
small favor, and condemn the suppliant to blindness?
Such a tyrant is the teacher, who aspires to win the affection of his
victims by means of moral exhortations.
It would be so simple to allow children, when tired of sitting, to
rise, and when tired of writing, to desist, and then their bones would
not be twisted. Who can look on unmoved at the spectacle of children
whose vertebral column is being deformed by using desks, just as in
the Middle Ages the instep was deformed by the torture of the boot.
And on what grounds is this odious torture judged to be necessary?
Because a man has substituted himself for God, desiring to form the
minds of children in his own image and likeness; and this cannot be
done without subjecting a free creature to torture. This is the only
reason.
We will now quote the remedies by means of which a so-called science
proposes to counteract spinal curvature in school-children. It has
determined the exact position in which a child may remain seated and
at work for a long period of time without injury to the vertebrae.
"The child, seated at the table, should have his feet planted
flat upon the ground, or upon a foot-rest. The legs should be
at right-angles to the thighs, as should the thighs be to the
trunk, save for a slight inclination of the bench itself. The
trunk should be in such a position that there will be no
lateral inclination of the vertebral column, the arms should
be parallel with the sides of the body, the thorax should not
be interfered with by the front edge of the table, the pelvic
basin should be symmetrically supported, the head slightly
bent forward at a distance of thirty centimeters from the
level of the table; the axis of the eyes, remaining parallel
with the front edge of the table, should be horizontal; the
forearms, two-thirds of which should be laid on the table,
should rest on it, but without leaning upon it."
To realize all these conditions, it is necessary that the desk should
be _exactly fitted_ to the proportions of the child; its constituent
parts should agree with those of the body and limbs of the scholar.
The following are the measurements which Dufessel considered
indispensable in the fashioning of a desk suitable for children:
1. Height.
2. The length of the leg, taken from below the knee, when the child is
seated with the legs at right-angles to the thighs, and the feet flat
on the ground. This measurement gives the required height of the seat
from the foot-rest.
3. The diameter of the body from front to back, taken from the
sternum; this, with five centimeters added to it, gives the proper
distance from the reading-desk to the back of the seat.
4. The length of the femur, two-thirds of which represent the depth of
the seat.
5. Finally, the height of the epigastric cavity above the seat,
augmented by a few centimeters, indicates the height of the
reading-desk.
We may add that in view of the rapid growth of the child, these
measurements should be taken twice in the course of the school year,
and children should be made to change places in accordance with these
measurements.
There is a little crustacean which, coming naked into the world,
chooses an empty shell and adapts itself thereto; when it grows larger
and the shell becomes too tight, it sallies forth and takes up its
abode in a larger one. This the creature does of its own accord,
without a savant to measure it or a teacher to choose a new shell for
it. But to us and to scientists, a child is inferior to this lowly
invertebrate!
The difficulty of keeping forty or fifty children motionless for hours
in the prescribed hygienic attitude, and of finding desks exactly
adapted to these growing bodies, makes this remedy impracticable, so
hunchbacks continue among us. The problem remains unsolved.
Hence it has been deemed more practical to establish a kind of
orthopaedic institution within the building itself in certain model
schools in Rome. It consists of a costly and elaborate apparatus, to
which the pupils come in turn to be suspended by the head after the
method adopted in medicine to combat spinal curvature in Pott's
disease (tuberculosis of the vertebral column) and rickets.
Healthy children, as well as the unsound, suffer by these
applications; but on the other hand, the results afford encouraging
statistics. If this hanging treatment be initiated regularly at the
age of six years it strikes a perfect balance with the injury caused
by prolonged deterioration induced by school desks, and children are
delivered from spinal disease.
* * * * *
=Discoveries of experimental psychology: overwork; nervous
exhaustion=.--Hygiene, making its way into the school, discovered
scholar's spinal curvature and scholar's myopia; experimental
psychology discovered the exhaustion due to overwork, and studied the
_fatigue_ of the scholar. It followed in the beaten track of
medicine--that is to say, it sought to alleviate the ills it had
diagnosed, and instituted a branch of science the title of which is
not very clearly defined as yet, for some call it experimental
psychology applied to the school, others Scientific Pedagogy.
It is necessary to remember that experimental psychology was
established in 1860 by Fechner, who was a physicist accustomed to
experiment on _things_, not on living creatures, and who merely
adapted the methods employed in physics to psychical measurements,
thus founding psycho-physics. The instruments specially invented for
esthesiometric measurements were of extreme precision; but the results
obtained showed such variations that by mathematical law they could
not be attributed to "errors of measurement," but were obviously due
to "errors of method." Indeed, for the measurement of liquids it is
necessary to have an instrument different from that which we use in
measuring solids, although we are still in the domain of physics; we
cannot measure a stuff by the quart, nor wine by the yard; how much
more then must the methods of measuring physical substances and
spiritual energy differ?
After psycho-physics, psycho-physiology was introduced by Wundt.
Wundt, being a physiologist, applied the methods of study proper to
physiological functions to psychical study. He did not make the exact
metrical instrument his aim; but he measured nervous reactions exactly
in _time_. Fechner's primitive researches made it possible to produce
instruments so exact that they can measure the sound made by a drop of
water falling from the height of a meter, while Wundt's researches
have resulted in chronometers which can measure the thousandth part of
a second. But the spirit did not correspond to the exactness of
research--the results showed by their oscillations that nothing was
being measured--that the object to be measured escaped. It will
suffice to mention that in measuring the nervous currents in rate of
transmission of impulse along the nerves and also in the ganglion
cells of the spinal marrow, Exner arrived at a rapidity of eight
meters, and Bloch at a rapidity of 194 meters, in the same unit of
time.
In spite of this startling contrast between the precision of the means
of research and the huge variations in the results, which were shown
by mathematical law to be absurd, experimental psychology carried on
extensive studies, under the illusion that it rested upon a
mathematical basis.
It is from this science that a branch has been detached with which to
penetrate into the school, for the purpose of giving spiritual help to
the scholar, and fresh vigor to pedagogy.
Methods of research are no longer merely those antiquated
psycho-physical and psycho-physiological methods formerly in favor;
experimental psychology, henceforth emancipated from its origins, has
developed independently. It now relies on purely psychological tests
for its researches, and although it does not exclude the methods
adopted in the laboratory, and the use of such accurate and
trustworthy instruments as the esthesiometer and the ergograph, the
school itself has become the chief field of experiment.
For example: one of the most familiar tests of attention is to give a
printed page to be read over, with directions to strike out every _a_
on the page; the time taken to complete this task is measured by
chronometer.
Counting aloud from one to a hundred, and at the same time carrying on
arithmetical operations in writing, is a measure of the distribution
of the attention, provided the time taken be calculated by the
chronometer, and all errors be noted. To make several persons perform
similar exercises at the same time enables us to study comparative
individual activities. In schools, exercises in dictation which have
been previously determined, may be given to a group of scholars, care
being taken to note the time occupied in performing the exercise and
to compare the errors. This is also an easy and practical means of
obtaining collective results.
These experiments all psychologists agree should be carried out
without interrupting the usual routine of the school. They are to be
regarded as an addition, an _extra_, and may be summed up as a means
of scientific research, throwing light upon the regular psychical
conditions of school studies.
The principal results of such experiments have been: the multiplicity
of mistakes made, and the difficulty of fixing attention; that is to
say, they reveal the weariness, the degree of fatigue, in children.
This gave the alarm! Old-fashioned pedagogy was concerned solely with
what children ought to do. The idea that their nervous energies might
be impaired was first called into being by the warning note of
science.
Researches into the causes of fatigue became more and more frequent,
and coupled with such researches was the less immediate enquiry as to
how fatigue could be "combated" or "alleviated." All the factors
relating to the question were studied: age, sex, the degree of
intelligence, the type of individual, the influence of the seasons,
the influence of the various times of the day, of the various days of
the week, of habit, intervals of relaxation, interest, variety of
work, the position of the body, and, finally, position in reference to
the cardinal points.
* * * * *
=Science is confronted by a mass of unsolved problems=.--The outcome of
all these researches is a growing mass of unsolved problems. It has
not been established whether males are more easily fatigued than
females; whether the intelligent are more subject to fatigue than the
unintelligent. With regard to the individual type, Tissié's conclusion
seems to be the most noteworthy: "Each individual becomes fatigued or
not according to his degree of will." In connection with the seasons
it appears that fatigue increases from the first to the last day of
school, but it is uncertain whether this is due to the influence of
the seasons, or whether, as Schuyten affirms, the scholar's gradual
exhaustion is due to the scholastic system. With regard to the time of
day, "it is still a question whether the fatigue produced is less when
the pupil works spontaneously, but this problem is a difficult one to
solve." The days of the week when fatigue is least evident are Monday
and Friday, but researches made in this connection are not definitive;
as to habit, intervals of rest, interest: "in connection with these
factors which are antagonistic to fatigue, it has been questioned
whether they actually diminish fatigue, or merely cloak it, but no
decision has been reached." A great variety of interesting researches
have been made into the question of change of work with identical
results--namely, that frequent change of work causes greater fatigue
than continuous work of one kind, and that a sudden interruption is
more fatiguing than persistence. The following experiment (quoted by
Claparède) was made by Schultze: one day the girls were required to
add up figures for twenty-five minutes, and then to copy out passages
for another twenty-five minutes. Another day they performed the same
work, but it was differently divided; they had to add for fifty
minutes and to copy for another fifty minutes. Now these last tests
gave results infinitely superior to the first. And yet it is well
known that, in spite of such results, constant interruption and change
of work are commonly practised in schools, as part of a scientific
plan for combating fatigue.
One of the researches directly relating to schools is that of the
ponogenic co-efficient of the various subjects of instruction, that is
to say, of the degrees of fatigue induced by these. Wagner is of
opinion _a priori_ that one hundred, the maximum co-efficient, must be
assigned to mathematics; in this case, we should get the following
ponogenic co-efficients in schools, for each subject:
Mathematics 100
Latin 91
Greek 90
Gymnastics 90
History and Geography 85
French and German 82
Natural History 80
Drawing, Religion 77
We may note the arbitrary and surprising manner in which such results
are established; nevertheless, in the name of "experimental science"
it is possible to make such deductions as the following:
"It would be interesting to enquire if the order of the
ponogenic co-efficients varies with the age of the children,
which would enable us to know on the one hand when the brain
is best fitted for the study of any particular subject and
when therefore it would be most judicious to make it
predominate in the program; on the other hand, it would help
us in the arrangement of the daily time-table; we should
take, if possible, the most fatiguing subjects at the
beginning of the day" (Claparède, _op. cit._).
Another order of recent researches is that made into the toxines
produced by fatigue; Weichardt succeeded in isolating these toxines,
and in fabricating anti-toxines with which he experimented
successfully on rats. The experiments were also repeated in a clinic.
With regard to the appearance of the toxines, it was found that they
were abundantly produced during the performance of "wearisome" work,
whereas there were only traces of them to be found when the work was
"interesting."
Throughout this science so packed with researches which give as their
result unsolved problems, we perceive that not one of the factors
taken into consideration can alleviate fatigue; interruption and
change of work merely aggravate it. The one means by which _surménage_
(exhaustion due to overwork) can be eliminated is to make work
pleasant and interesting, to give joy in work rather than pain.
"The necessity of making education and instruction attractive
has been propounded by all pedagogists worthy of the name,
such as Fénelon, Rousseau, Pestalozzi, Herbart, and Spencer,"
says Claparède, "but it is still unrecognized in the everyday
practise of the schools" (_op. cit._).
"By common consent, the first duty of the educator is that of
doing no harm: first do no harm, a precept also accepted in
the practise of medicine. To obey it to the letter is,
indeed, _impossible, because every method of scholastic
education is in some way prejudicial to the normal
development of the child_. But the educator will seek to
_alleviate the injury which instruction necessarily entails_"
(_op. cit._).
This is indeed cold comfort, after all these studies and researches! A
confession that problems have arisen at every step, and that not a
single one has been solved! Indeed, underlying all this is the
_problem of problems_: how to make that place attractive and joyous
where hitherto the body has been tortured and contorted, and the blood
poisoned by weariness! It is impossible to educate without doing harm;
but we must do harm that will give pleasure! This is truly an
embarrassing position! And this is why an interminable string of notes
of interrogation serves as the decorative motive of this new science,
which might be more appropriately styled: _ignorabimus_.
And it is for this reason that the considerations indicated by hygiene
and psychology now tend to do away altogether with the sum total of
irreparable evils, "commuting the sentence," that is to say,
abbreviating hours of study, cutting down the curriculum, avoiding
written exercises. Thus a new specter, that of ignorance, and
henceforth the abandonment of the child for the greater part of the
day, present themselves as a substitute for the specter of
destruction. Meanwhile our epoch demands an intensive care of the new
generation, and the preparation of a culture ever vaster and more
complex.
True, it would appear that to-day a way of escape may be offered by
the discovery of the anti-toxine for fatigue. "Just think!" exclaims
Claparède, "a serum against fatigue. How valuable this would be!" From
this point of view, I should say that the ponogenic co-efficients
might find a more practical and rational application than that of the
revelation of "programs"; indeed these co-efficients indicating the
production of toxines would appear destined to determine the dose of
anti-toxine necessary to nullify the evil effects resulting from each
different subject of instruction. In the not far distant future, when
these auxiliary sciences of the school and pedagogy shall have made
due progress, we shall perhaps see, side by side with the orthopaedic
ward, a physio-chemical clinic, where every evening the pupils, as
they leave the beneficent suspensory apparatus which counteracts
injury to their skeletons, may enter with a kind of ponogenic
prescription regulated by the teaching they have undergone, and
receive an injection which will deliver them from the poisonous
effects of fatigue!
This reads like an irony of the worst kind, perhaps; but this is not
the case. Where the orthopaedic institution is already an accomplished
fact, we may very soon see the chemical clinic established. If a
problem of liberty is to be solved with machines, and if a problem of
justice is to be regarded from the chemical point of view, similar
consequences will be the logical end of sciences developed upon such
errors.
It is obvious that a real experimental science, which shall guide
education and deliver the child from slavery, is not yet born; when it
appears, it will be to the so-called "sciences" that have sprung up in
connection with the diseases of martyred childhood as chemistry to
alchemy, and as positive medicine to the empirical medicine of bygone
centuries.
I think it will be of interest here to record the impressions of a
person who, leaving the field of mathematics, entered upon the study
of biology and experimental psychology.
It is an account of a young English engineer, who had evidently
mistaken his vocation, and who, after studying my method for two
years, returned to the universities of his own great country as a
student of biology.
This is his opinion of experimental psychology:
In psychology we are studying the most modern experimental
researches. At present we are engaged upon Thought and
Imagination. I must confess that I do not find this course
very illuminating, though I agree that it is necessary to
know something of these researches. In modern psychology
there is nothing at all adequate to the subject of our
method. These investigators seem to me like persons looking
at a tree, and noting the most obvious of its external forms:
the shape of a leaf, a stem, etc., doing all this with great
gravity and using very precise language (perhaps believing
that this constitutes science), but often confusing the
function of _definition_ with that of _description_.
In this manner descriptions of wonderful and fascinating
things are reduced to arid definitions, in order to be
clothed in their science, and thus are rendered powerless to
inspire thought. They never meditate; they read a great deal;
they think in mental images which no more represent facts
than a diagram on the blackboard represents a living organ;
and these images differ among different psychologists, but
their language is always the same. They do all this believing
they are making progress, and instead of training their
pupils to observe for themselves without prejudice, they
instil their own prejudices into the minds of the students,
cramming them with definitions and descriptions of the
strangest and most amorphous kind, which effectually prevent
them from thinking for themselves.
But within the tree there is the fundamental structure which
they have not begun to examine, though the revelation of this
would explain all the external data. The details would
diminish in importance; all these details issuing from a
single root might be classified in the simplest manner. This
"science" reminds me of that antiquated lore which dealt
with the constellations, when the laws of planetary motion
were not yet known, and the so-called science confined itself
to descriptions of the "Great Bear," the "Crab," the "Goat,"
etc.
I detest those dryasdusts who, unaware of their own
ignorance, write enormous arid tomes with an air of great
majesty, as if they were revealing absolute knowledge, books
that lie heavy on the minds of the students, making them dry
as their teachers. But the students seem to me to care only
about passing their examinations and to have no thought of
discovering new knowledge; and the professors "serve" them to
this end. Thus we are all in a state of servitude due to a
mistaken system of education, which calls loudly for reform.
III
MY CONTRIBUTION TO EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE
=The organization of psychical life begins with the characteristic
phenomenon of attention=.--My experimental work with little children
from three to six years old has been, in fact, a practical
contribution to research which has for its aim the discovery of the
treatment required by the soul of the child, a treatment analogous to
that which hygiene prescribes for its body.
I think, therefore, that it is essential to record the fundamental
fact which led me to define my method.
I was making my first essays in applying the principles and part of
the material I had used for many years previously in the education of
deficient children, to the normal children of the San Lorenzo quarter
in Rome, when I happened to notice a little girl of about three years
old deeply absorbed in a set of solid insets, removing the wooden
cylinders from their respective holes and replacing them. The
expression on the child's face was one of such concentrated attention
that it seemed to me an extraordinary manifestation; up to this time
none of the children had ever shown such fixity of interest in an
object; and my belief in the characteristic instability of attention
in young children, who flit incessantly from one thing to another,
made me peculiarly alive to the phenomenon.
I watched the child intently without disturbing her at first, and
began to count how many times she repeated the exercise; then, seeing
that she was continuing for a long time, I picked up the little
armchair in which she was seated, and placed chair and child upon the
table; the little creature hastily caught up her case of insets, laid
it across the arms of her chair, and gathering the cylinders into her
lap, set to work again. Then I called upon all the children to sing;
they sang, but the little girl continued undisturbed, repeating her
exercise even after the short song had come to an end. I counted
forty-four repetitions; when at last she ceased, it was quite
independently of any surrounding stimuli which might have distracted
her, and she looked round with a satisfied air, almost as if awaking
from a refreshing nap.
I think my never-to-be-forgotten impression was that experienced by
one who has made a discovery.
This phenomenon gradually became common among the children: it may
therefore be recorded as a constant reaction occurring in connection
with certain external conditions, which may be determined. And each
time that such a polarisation of attention took place, the child began
to be completely transformed, to become calmer, more intelligent, and
more expansive; it showed extraordinary spiritual qualities, recalling
the phenomena of a higher consciousness, such as those of conversion.
It was as if in a saturated solution, a point of crystallization had
formed, round which the whole chaotic and fluctuating mass united,
producing a crystal of wonderful forms. Thus, when the phenomenon of
the polarisation of attention had taken place, all that was disorderly
and fluctuating in the consciousness of the child seemed to be
organizing itself into a spiritual creation, the surprising
characteristics of which are reproduced in every individual.
It made one think of the _life of man_ which may remain diffused among
a multiplicity of things, in an inferior state of chaos, until some
special thing attracts it intensely and fixes it; and then man is
revealed unto himself, he feels that he has begun to live.
This spiritual phenomenon which may co-involve the entire
consciousness of the adult, is therefore only one of the constant
elements of the phenomena of "internal formation." It occurs as the
normal beginning of the inner life of children, and accompanies its
development in such a manner as to become accessible to research, as
an experimental fact.
It was thus that the soul of the child gave its revelations, and under
their guidance a method exemplifying spiritual liberty was evolved.
The story of this initiatory episode soon spread throughout the world,
and at first it seemed like the story of a miracle. Then by degrees,
as experiments were made among the most diverse races, the simple and
evident principles of this spiritual "treatment" were manifested.
* * * * *
=Psychical development is organized by the aid of external stimuli,
which may be determined experimentally=.--The contribution I have made
to the education of young children tends, in fact, to _specify_ by
means of the revelations due to experiment, the form of liberty in
internal development.
It would not be possible to conceive liberty of development, if by its
very nature the child were not capable of a spontaneous organic
development, if the tendency to develop his energies (expansion of
latent powers), the conquest of the means necessary to a harmonious
innate development, did not already exist. In order to expand, the
child, left at liberty to exercise his activities, ought to find in
his surroundings something _organized_ in direct relation to his
internal organization which is developing itself by natural laws, just
as the free insect finds in the form and qualities of flowers a direct
correspondence between form and sustenance. The insect is undoubtedly
free when, seeking the nectar which nourishes it, it is in reality
helping the reproduction of the plant. There is nothing more marvelous
in nature than the correspondence between the organs of these two
orders of beings destined to such a providential cooperation.
The secret of the free development of the child consists, therefore,
in organizing for him the means necessary for his internal
nourishment, means corresponding to a primitive impulse of the child,
comparable to that which makes the new-born infant capable of sucking
milk from the breast, which by its external form and elaborated
sustenance, corresponds perfectly to the requirements of the infant.
It is in the satisfaction of this primitive impulse, this internal
hunger, that the child's personality begins to organize itself and
reveal its characteristics; just as the new-born infant, in nourishing
itself, organizes its body and its natural movements.
We must not therefore set ourselves the educational problem of seeking
means whereby to organize the internal personality of the child and
develop his characteristics; the sole problem is that of offering the
child the necessary nourishment.
It is by this means that the child develops an organized and complex
activity which, while it responds to a primitive impulse, exercises
the intelligence and develops qualities we consider lofty, and which
we supposed were foreign to the nature of the young child, such as
patience and perseverance in work, and in the moral order, obedience,
gentleness, affection, politeness, serenity; qualities we are
accustomed to divide into different categories, and as to which,
hitherto, we have cherished the illusion that it was our task to
develop them gradually by our direct interposition, although in
practise we have never known by what means to do so successfully.
In order that the phenomenon should come to pass it is _necessary_
that the spontaneous development of the child should be accorded
_perfect liberty_; that is to say, that its calm and peaceful
expansion should not be disturbed by the intervention of an untimely
and disturbing influence; just as the body of the new-born infant
should be left in peace to assimilate its nourishment and grow
properly.
In such an attitude ought we to await the _miracles_ of the inner
life, its expansions and also its unforeseen and surprising
explosions; just as the intelligent mother, only giving her baby
nourishment and rest, contemplates it, seeing it _grow_, and awaits
the manifestations of nature: the first tooth, the first word, and
finally the action by which the baby will one day rise to his feet and
walk.
But to ensure the psychical phenomena of growth, we must prepare the
"environment" in a definite manner, and from this environment offer
the child the external means directly necessary for him.
This is the _positive_ fact which my experiment has rendered concrete.
Hitherto the liberty of the child has been vaguely discussed; no
clearly defined limit has been established between liberty and
abandonment. We were told: "Liberty has its limits," "Liberty must be
properly understood." But a special method indicating "how liberty
should be interpreted, and what is the intuitive _quid_ which ought
to co-exist with it," had not been determined.
The establishment of such a method should open up a new path to all
education.
* * * * *
It is therefore necessary that the environment should contain the
means of auto-education. These means cannot be "taken at random"; they
represent the result of an experimental study which cannot be
undertaken by all, because a scientific preparation is necessary for
such delicate work; besides, like all experimental study, it is
laborious, prolonged, and exact. Many years of research are required,
before the means really _necessary_ for _psychical development_ can be
set forth. Those educationalists who leave the great question of the
liberty of the pupil to the good sense or to the preparation of the
master are very far from solving the problem of liberty. The greatest
scientist, or the person most fitted by nature to teach, could never
of himself discover such, because, to preparation and natural gifts,
the further factor of _time_ must be added--the long period of
preparatory experiment. Therefore a _science_ which has already
_provided the means_ for self-education must exist beforehand. To-day,
he who speaks of liberty in the schools ought at the same time to
exhibit objects--approximating to a scientific apparatus--which will
make such liberty possible.
The scientific instrument must be constructed upon a basis of
_exactitude_. Just as the lenses of the physicist are constructed in
accordance with the laws of the refraction of light, so the pedagogic
instrument should be based on the _psychical manifestations_ of the
child.
Such an instrument may be compared to a systematized "mental test." It
is not, however, established upon a basis of external measurement, for
the purpose of estimating the amount of instantaneous psychical
reaction which it produces; it is, on the contrary, a stimulus which
is itself determined by the psychical reactions it is capable of
producing and maintaining permanently. It is the psychical reaction,
therefore, that in this case determines and establishes the systematic
"mental test." The psychical reaction which constitutes the sole basis
of comparison in the determination of the tests, is a _polarization of
the attention_, and _the repetition of the actions_ related to it.
When a stimulus corresponds in this manner to the "reflex
personality," it serves, not to _measure_ but to _maintain_ a lively
reaction; it is therefore a stimulus to the "internal formation."
Indeed, upon such activity, awakened and maintained, the accompanying
organism initiates its internal elaborations in relation to the
stimuli.
This does not penetrate into the ancient ambit of pedagogy as a
science that _measures_ the personality, as the experimental
psychology introduced in schools has hitherto done, but as a science
that _transforms_ the personality, and is therefore capable of taking
its stand as a true and real pedagogy. Whereas the ancient pedagogy in
all its various interpretations started from the conception of a
"receptive personality"--one, that is to say, which was to receive
instructions and to be passively formed, this scientific departure
starts from the conception of an _active_ personality--reflex and
associative--developing itself by a series of reactions induced by
systematic stimuli which have been determined by experiment. This new
pedagogy accordingly belongs to the series of modern sciences, and not
to antique speculations, although it is not directly based on the
purely metric studies of "positive psychology." But the "method,"
which informs it--namely, experiment, observation, evidence or proof,
the recognition of new phenomena, their reproduction and utilization,
undoubtedly place it among the experimental sciences.
* * * * *
=External stimuli may be determined in quality and quantity=.--Nothing
can be more interesting than such experiments. By their means external
stimuli may be determined with the greatest precision, both as regards
quality and quantity. For instance, very small objects of various
geometric forms will only attract the fugitive attention of a child of
three years old; but by increasing the dimensions gradually, we arrive
at the limit of size when these objects will fix the attention; then
such objects excite an activity which becomes permanent, and the
resulting exercise becomes a factor of development. The experiment is
repeated with a number of children, and thus the dimensions of a
series of objects are established.
It is the same with colors and with every kind of _quality_. In order
that a quality should be felt to such a degree as to fix the
attention, a certain extension and a certain intensity of the stimulus
are necessary, which may be _determined_ by the degree of psychical
reaction shown by the child; as, for instance, the minimum chromatic
extension sufficient to attract the attention to the colored tablets,
etc. Quality, therefore, is determined by a psychical experiment
demonstrating the activity it produces in a child, who will continue
the exercise with the same object for a long time, thus elaborating a
phenomenon of internal development, of self-formation.
Among the characteristics of the objects, one must be pointed out,
which demands the highest degree of activity in the intelligence: they
contain in themselves _control of error_.
To make the process one of self-education, it is not enough that the
stimulus should call forth activity, it must also direct it. The child
should not only persist for a long time in an exercise; he must
persist without making mistakes. All the physical or intrinsic
qualities of the objects should be determined, not only by the
immediate reaction of attention they provoke in the child, but also by
their possession of this fundamental characteristic, the control of
error, that is to say the power of evoking the effective collaboration
of the highest activities (comparison, judgment). For instance, one of
the first objects which attract the attention of the child of three
years old, the solid insets (a series of cylinders of various
dimensions to be placed in or taken out of a block with corresponding
holes) contains the most mechanical control, because if a single
mistake be made in placing the cylinders, one of these must be left
out at the end of the exercise. Hence a mistake is an obstacle only to
be overcome by correction, for without it the exercise cannot be
completed. On the other hand, the correction is so easy that the child
makes it himself. The little problem suddenly presenting itself to the
child, almost like the unexpected object of a jack-in-the-box, has
"interested" him.
It is, however, noteworthy that the "problem" thus presented is not in
itself the stimulus to interest; it is not that which incites to the
repetition of the act--to the progress of the child. What interests
the child is the sensation, not only of placing the objects but of
acquiring a new power of perception, enabling him to recognize the
difference of dimension in the cylinders, a difference which he did
not at first notice. The _problem_ presents itself solely in
connection with the _error_, it does not accompany the normal process
of development. An interest stimulated merely by _curiosity_, by a
"problem," would not be that formative interest which wells up from
the needs of life itself, and therefore directs the building up of the
spiritual personality. If it were only the problem which should lead
the soul to find itself, order might be dissipated by it, as by any
other external cause which tends to _seduce_ life into false paths. I
lay, perhaps, excessive stress upon this point, in answer to very
important objections and observations that have been made to me.
Indeed in the second series of objects designed to educate the eye to
appreciate dimensions, the control of error is not mechanical, but
psychological; the child himself, whose eye has been educated to
recognize differences of dimension, will see the error, provided the
objects be of a certain size and attractively colored. It is for this
reason that the next objects contain, so to say, the control of error
in their own size and in their bright colors. A control of error of a
totally different kind, and of a much higher order, is that offered by
the material of the arithmetical frame, in which the control will
consist in the comparison of the child's own work with that of a
model, a comparison which denotes a remarkably intelligent effort of
will on the part of the child, and places him thenceforth in the true
conditions of conscious auto-education. But, however slight the
control of error may be, and in spite of the fact that this diverges
more and more from an external mechanism, to rely upon the internal
activities which are gradually developing, it always depends, like all
the qualities of the objects, upon the fundamental reaction of the
child, who accords it prolonged attention, and repeats the exercises.
On the other hand, the experimental criterion is different, in
determining the _quantity of the objects_. When the instruments have
been constructed with great precision, they provoke a spontaneous
exercise so coordinated and so harmonious with the facts of internal
development, that at a certain point a new psychical picture, a
species of higher plane in the complex development, is revealed.
The child turns away spontaneously from the material, not with any
signs of fatigue, but rather as if impelled by fresh energies, and his
mind is capable of abstractions. At this stage of development, the
child turns his attention to the external world, and observes it with
an order which is the order formed in his mind during the period of
the preceding development; he begins spontaneously to make a series of
careful and logical comparisons which represent a veritable
spontaneous acquisition of "knowledge." This is the period henceforth
to be known as the period of "discoveries," discoveries which evoke
enthusiasm and joy in the child.
This more elevated level of development is extremely fruitful in its
last ascent It is essential that the child's attention should not be
directed to the objects when the delicate phenomenon of abstraction
begins. For instance, the teacher who invites the child to continue
his operations with the material at such a moment, will retard his
spontaneous development and place an obstacle in his way. If the
enthusiasm which leads the child to rise to greater heights and
experience so many intellectual emotions be extinguished, a path of
progress has been closed. Now the same error may be committed by an
_excessive quantity_ of the educative material; this may dissipate the
attention, render the exercises with the objects mechanical, and cause
the child to pass by his psychological moment of ascent without
perceiving it and seizing it. Moreover, such objects are then futile,
and, by their futility, "the child may lose his soul."
The thing to be exactly determined is: what is _necessary_ and
_sufficient_ as a response to the internal needs of a life in process
of development, that is, of upward progression, of _ascent_? Now in
determining the "quantity" we must be guided by the expression and at
the same time by the active manifestations of the child. Those
children who have long been occupied with these determined objects,
showing every sign of absorbed attention, will, all of a sudden, begin
to rise gradually and insensibly, like an aeroplane when it completes
its short journey upon the ground. Their apparent indifference to the
objects is revealed in its true essence by the intense and radiant
expression of the face, which is animated by the liveliest joy. The
child may seem to be doing nothing, but this will only be for a
moment; very soon he will speak, and so will reveal what is happening
within him, and then his ebullient activity will carry him along in a
series of explorations and discoveries. He is saved.
Now take the case of other children in whom the same primitive
phenomenon is taking place, but who are surrounded by too great a
profusion of objects. At the moment of maturity they are seen to be
caught, obstructed, almost palpably entangled in the toils that bind
them to earth. A diminution of the absorbed attention bestowed upon
the new objects, instability, and consequently fatigue, manifest
themselves in an obvious extinction of internal activity. The child's
bearing deteriorates, he indulges in loud, empty laughter, rude
actions, and indolence. He demands "other objects," and then again
other objects, because he has remained imprisoned "in the vicious
circle of vanities," and is no longer sensible to anything but the
desire to alleviate his weariness. Like the adult who during a chaotic
life commits kindred errors, he becomes undisciplined, feeble, and "in
peril of perdition." If some one does not help him by wresting from
him the futile objects, and pointing out his heaven to him, he will
hardly have the energy to save himself.
These two extreme types will give an idea of the criteria by which we
experimentally determine the quantity of the material necessary for
development.
Over-abundance debilitates and retards progress; this has been proved
again and again by my collaborators.
If, on the other hand, the material be insufficient, and the primary
auto-exercise incapable of leading the child on to that _maturity_
which causes him to ascend, there will be no explosion of that
spontaneous phenomenon of abstraction which is the second stage of an
auto-education advancing in infinite progression. The same fundamental
phenomenon of absorbed and prolonged attention which leads to
repetition of the acts, guides us in determining the stimuli suitable
to the _age_ of the child. A stimulus which will cause a child of
three years old to repeat an act forty times in succession, may only
be repeated ten times by a child of six; the object which arouses the
interest of a child of three no longer interests a child of six.
Nevertheless the child of six is capable of fixing his attention for a
much longer period than a child of three, when the stimulus is suited
to his activities; if, indeed, a little child of three may achieve as
his maximum the repetition of an act forty times in succession, the
child of six is capable of repeating two hundred times an act which
interests him. If the maximum period of continuous work on the same
object may be half an hour for the child of three, it may be over two
hours for the child of six.
Hence, to establish systematic tests for a certain purpose, such as
that of preparing children to write, without taking their ages into
account, is valueless. For example, my system of writing is based upon
the direct preparation of the movements which physiologically concur
to produce writing: _i.e._ manipulation of the instrument of writing
and the tracing of the letters of the alphabet. The children, filling
in the contours of the insets with innumerable parallel strokes in the
one case, and touching the sand-paper letters in the other, fix the
two muscular mechanisms so perfectly, that the final result is an
"explosion" of "spontaneous writing" extraordinarily uniform in all
the children--because, as if all molded to a common form, they have
fixed the necessary movements by touching the same alphabet, and
therefore reproduce its forms faithfully. To bring this about, to
establish a real motor-mechanism, it is essential that the exercise
should be repeated over and over again. Now the children who take most
interest in filling in the figures with parallel strokes, and, above
all, in touching the letters, are, at most, between four and five
years old. If we offer the same material to a child of six he will not
touch the letters often enough, and he will always write imperfectly,
in comparison with the child who has begun the exercise at a suitable
age. This applies also to all the other details of the system. It is
therefore possible to determine experimentally, with, I believe, a
precision not hitherto attained, what is the mental attitude of the
child at various ages, and hence, if the fitting material for
development be offered, what will be the average level of
intellectual development according to age.
Here we have an indication of the possibility of _determining_ the
means of development so exactly as to establish a true correspondence
between internal needs and external stimuli, just as actual as the
correspondence which exists between the insect and the flower.
He who has all this material ready to his hand has an easy task in
bringing about the natural development of the psychic life of the
child. With such objects at his disposal, every teacher may realize
the ideal of _liberty in the school_.
This long, occult experiment--suggested to me, as I have already said,
by Itard and Séguin--is, in fact, my initial contribution to
education.
All this preparatory work has served for the determination of the
method now well known, but it is also the key to its continuation.
* * * * *
=The material of development is necessary only as a starting point=.--In
the organization of the external means of development, there remains a
material impress of the internal development, and of that which the
soul needs in its progress, during its course, and in its flights. The
material part does not contain the impress of the whole soul, any more
than the impress of the foot is the impress of the whole body; the
aviation-ground is not the sphere of action proper to the aeroplane,
but it is the part of _terra-firma_ necessary for flight, and it is
also the resting-place, the refuge, the _hangar_ to which the
aeroplane must always return. Thus in psychical formation there is a
necessary material part from which the spirit rises, and where it
should find repose, refuge, and a point of support, Without this it
could not grow and rise "freely."
In order that it may be a true support it ought "to reproduce its
forms" and contain them in the part corresponding to the peculiar
functions of the material aid. Thus, for instance, in the first period
of the psychical life, the material corresponds to the primitive
exercises of the senses--it is in quality and quantity determined by
the sensory needs given by nature--and permits an exercise of the
activities sufficient to _mature_ a superior psychical state of
observation and abstraction. _Vice versa_, nothing corresponds in the
material to the subsequent career which the childish spirit
accomplishes with such delight and with so much acquisition of
knowledge. But we then see the spirit eager for higher kinds of
exercise--and now we witness the same primitive phenomenon of
attention, which will exercise itself henceforth upon the alphabet and
arithmetical material, repeating in a more complex form methodical
exercises of the intelligence by linking auditory images with the
visible and motor images of the spoken and written word; and in the
positive study of quantities, proportions, and number. The same
concomitant phenomena of "patience" and "perseverance" then manifest
themselves, together with those of vivacity, activity, and joy,
characteristic of the spirit when the internal energies have found
their _keyboard_, the gymnasium in which they exercise themselves
freely and tranquilly.
And the spirit, organized in this manner under the guidance of an
order which corresponds to its natural order, becomes _fortified_,
grows _vigorously_, and manifests itself in the _equilibrium_, the
_serenity_, the self-control which produce the wonderful _discipline_
characteristic of the behavior of our children.
The external material, then, should present itself to the psychical
requirements of the child as a staircase which helps him to ascend,
step by step, and on the steps of this staircase there will of
necessity be disposed the means of _culture_, and of the higher
_formation_. Therefore the psychical exercises require new material,
and this, if it is to fulfil its purpose, must contain new and more
complex forms of objects capable of fixing the attention, of making
the intelligence ripen in the continual exercise of its own energies,
and of producing those phenomena of persistence in application and of
patience to which will be added elasticity, psychical equilibrium, and
the capacity for abstraction and spontaneous creation. Thus, in the
subsequent development of the children, we see them applying
themselves to those exercises of the memory which seem to us most
arid, because a desire has been born in them, not only to retain the
images they encounter in the world, but also to "acquire knowledge
rapidly" by a determined effort. An example of this is seen in the
surprising yet common phenomenon of committing the multiplication
table to memory, whereas the memorizing of poems and prose extracts,
although this is sometimes a passion, causes us no surprise.
Very interesting again, is the _detachment_ the child shows at a
certain point from the aids to arithmetical calculation; at a certain
stage of maturity he desires to "reason in the abstract" and make
"abstract calculations with numbers," as if obeying an internal
impulse which seeks to liberate the soul from every material bond and
at the same time to effect an economy of time. Hereupon we see
children of eight years old become eager and precocious calculators.
Children thus launched upon the enterprises of self-education acquire
a remarkable "sensibility" as to their own internal needs. Just as the
new-born infant whose food is rationally regulated, is silent and
tranquil during the two hours of digestion and assimilation, and cries
out the moment the hour for a fresh meal has struck, so do these
children "ask for help," ask for "new materials," new "forms of work,"
as soon as they have accomplished their mysterious phenomena of
internal maturation, and ask for them _determinately_, indicating
_their most immediate need_, just as one in physical want would be
able to state distinctly whether he were hungry, thirsty, or sleepy. A
child, in like manner, asks for reading, or grammatical exercises, or
means for observing Nature. His sensibility manifests itself in a
lucid and intense desire, to which the teacher has only to respond.
It is evident that some _external_ basis is necessary in the
progressive development of such phenomena, and that the teacher, who
is to respond to the requests of the child in conscious evolution,
cannot do so adequately by haphazard means; he must be guided by
conditions previously determined by experience. In other words, those
external means already alluded to several times, that _staircase_, the
steps of which lead the soul upwards, must have been already
_established by experience_, just as all the preceding means of the
first development of the infant were established.
The construction of the ascending stairway, of the external means of
support for the soul in process of evolution, is gradually amplified,
like an inverted cone, the apex of which touches the very beginnings
of psychical life, resting upon that primitive impulse which attracts
the child of two and a half to the sensory stimuli, just as hunger
leads the new-born infant to perform the wonderful complex action of
sucking. And as these external means multiply, they are complicated
more and more by the growing psychical needs of the child, and
comprise within themselves the principles of culture.
The highest external organization is not based solely upon
psychological necessities, but also upon those factors which take into
account the cultural aspect itself. Each subject of study, as, for
instance, arithmetic, grammar, geometry, natural science, music,
literature, should be presented by means of external objects upon a
well-defined systematic plan. The essentially psychological character
of the preliminary work must now be supplemented by the collaboration
of specialists in each subject, in order to ensure the establishment
of that aggregate of means necessary and sufficient to incite to
auto-education.
This is the experimental preparatory work, which establishes those
means of development, those external _impressions_, necessary to
unfold the inner life, and an _exact_ correspondence to the psychical
needs of _formation_ is essential in their construction.
Up to a certain point, they might correspond with the so-called
didactic or objective material of the old methods. Their significance,
however, is profoundly different. The objective material of the old
schools was an aid to the teacher, in making his explanations
comprehensible to a collective class listening passively to him. The
objects were related solely _to the things to be explained_, and these
were chosen at random, that is to say, without any scientific
criterion of their relation to the psychical needs of the child.
Here, on the other hand, _the means of development_ are experimentally
determined with reference to the psychical evolution of the child; and
their aim is not to give mere instruction; they represent the means
which induce a spontaneous interpretation of the internal energies.
The external material is then offered, and _left freely_ to the
natural individual energies of the children. They choose the objects
they prefer; and such preference is dictated by the internal needs of
"psychical growth." Each child occupies himself with each object
chosen for as long as he wishes; and this desire corresponds to the
needs of the intimate maturation of the spirit, a process which
demands persevering and prolonged exercise. No guide, no teacher can
divine the intimate need of each pupil, and the time of maturation
necessary to each; but only leave the child _free_, and all this will
be revealed to us under the guidance of nature.
* * * * *
=Psychical truths=.--It is necessary to adopt a scientific point of view
in order to interpret the facts that reveal themselves in children
when they are developed upon this system, and to divest oneself
completely of the old scholastic conception according to which the
progress of the child is assessed according to his proficiency in the
various subjects of study. Here, almost like the naturalist, it is
essential to observe the development of certain phenomena of life. It
is true that we prepare special "external conditions"; but the
psychical effects are directly bound up with the spontaneous
development of the internal activity of the child.
Hence there is no direct correspondence between teacher and child;
instruction is certainly not a cause of the effects observed. It is
the objects of the method which, as "re-agents," provoke special
psychical reactions; these may be summed up as an awakening, as an
organization of the personality. Discipline, as the first result of an
order establishing itself within, is the principal phenomenon to be
looked for as the "external sign" of an internal process that has been
initiated.
During the first days when a new school is opened, we may consider a
certain initial disorder as characteristic, especially if the teacher
is making her first experiment, and consequently is handicapped by her
over-sanguine expectations. The immediate response of the child to the
material does not take place; the teacher is perhaps discomfited by
the fact that the children do not throw themselves, as she had hoped,
upon the objects, choosing them according to their individual taste.
If, indeed, the pupils are very poor children, this phenomenon does
nearly always happen at once; but if they are well-to-do children,
already sated by the variety of their possessions, and by the most
costly toys, they are very rarely attracted at first by the stimuli
presented to them. This naturally leads to disorder when the mistress
makes a kind of chain of that "liberty" she is to respect, and a dogma
of the correlation existing between the stimulus and the childish
soul. Experienced teachers, on the other hand, understand better that
_liberty_ begins when the _life_ that must be developed in the child
is initiated, and they possess a tact which greatly facilitates
orientation in the initial period.
However, an experience under the most difficult conditions, as between
a teacher making her first experiment, and a class of wealthy
children, is more instructive, and gives us a clearer picture of the
fundamental psychical phenomenon, which may be compared to the order
which springs up out of chaos.
I quote, in this connection, various descriptions, some of which
already have been published, among them that given by Miss George, of
her first school in the United States, and that of Mlle. Dufresne in
England.
The initial disorder is eloquently set forth by Miss George: "They
(the children) at first snatched the objects out of each other's
hands; if I tried to show an object to any particular pupil, the
others dropped what they themselves were holding and gathered
aimlessly and noisily round us. When I had finished explaining the
nature of an object, all the children snatched at it and quarreled for
its possession. The children showed no interest in the material: they
passed from one object to another without persevering in the use of
any.... One of the children was so incapable of keeping still that he
could not remain seated long enough to run his fingers round one of
the little circular objects we give the children. In many cases, the
movements of the children were quite aimless, they ran round the room
without any apparent object. During these movements, they made no
attempt to respect the objects about them; indeed, they stumbled
against the table, upset the chairs and stepped upon the material;
sometimes they began an occupation at one spot, and then ran off in
another direction; they took up the objects and cast them aside
capriciously."
Miss Dufresne describes the initial disorder of her first attempt as
follows: "I must confess that the first four weeks were disheartening;
the children could not settle to a task for more than a few moments;
they showed no perseverance, no initiative; at times they followed one
another like a flock of lambs; when one child took up an object, all
the others wanted to imitate him, sometimes they rolled on the floor
and overturned the chairs."
From an experiment with rich children here in Rome, we get the
following laconic description: "The greatest difficulty was the
question of discipline. The children showed a complete lack of
attraction to their work, and seemed disinclined to begin upon it."
These persons, who were all working independently, are all agreed
later in their accounts of the initiation of order: the phenomenon is
identical; at a given moment, a child begins to show an intense
interest in one of the exercises. It is by no means necessary that it
should be that exercise pertaining to the object determined as the
first series; it may be any other object that fixes the attention of
the child so deeply; the important factor is not the external object,
but the internal action of the soul, responding to a stimulus, and
arrested by it.
Now when a child once shows this deep interest in any one of the
objects we present to him as something answering to his psychical
needs, he goes on to show a like interest in all the objects, and
begins to develop activities as by a natural phenomenon. When once the
initiation has taken place, it leads to progression which goes on
steadily, and develops of its own accord. Moreover, the phenomenon is
not that of the slow and gradual progression that might be produced by
a measured and systematic external action; rather it has the
"explosive" character of unsuspected facts that establish themselves
suddenly, and make us think of the crises of physiological life, so
characteristic in the period of growth. Thus it is from one day to
another that the baby cuts a tooth, from one day to another that he
utters his first word, from one day to another that he takes his first
step; and when the first tooth has been cut, the whole set of teeth
will come; when the first word has been uttered, language will be
developed; when the first step has been taken, the power of walking
has been established once for all.
Similar crises occur in the first achievement of psychic order, which
is the beginning of progressive evolution in the inner life.
I quote the following sentences from Miss George's description of the
advent of discipline:
"In a few days that nebulous mass of whirling particles--the
disorderly children--began to take definite form. The
children seemed to begin to find their own way; in many of
the objects they had at first despised as silly playthings,
they began to discover a novel interest, and, as a result of
this new interest, they began to act as independent
individuals." Miss George's subsequent expression is: "They
became extremely individual." "Thus it came to pass that an
object of absorbing interest to one child had not the
slightest attraction for another; the children were strongly
differentiated in their manifestations of attention...." "The
battle is only definitively won, when the child discovers
some particular object which spontaneously excites great
interest in him. Sometimes this enthusiasm awakens
unexpectedly, or with curious rapidity."
"On one occasion I had tried a child with nearly all the
objects of the series without exciting the smallest spark of
interest; then I casually showed him the two tablets of red
and blue colors, and called his attention to the difference
of tint. He seized them at once with a kind of thirstiness,
and learned five different colors in a single lesson; during
the following days he took nearly all the objects of the
series which he had at first despised, and little by little
mastered them all.
"A child who at first had very little power of concentrating
his attention, found an outlet from this state of chaos by
means of one of the most complex objects of the material, the
so-called length-rods; he played with these continually for a
whole week and learned to count and make simple additions. He
then began to turn to the cylinders and the insets, the
simpler objects, and showed interest in every part of the
system.
"Directly the children find their objects interesting, their
disorderliness disappears at once; their mental restlessness
is at an end, and they amuse themselves with the blocks, the
colors, etc."
It is very interesting to follow Miss George again in her description
of the special qualities that develop after such a phenomenon. She
illustrates the birth of individuality by a pretty anecdote:
"There were two sisters, one of three years old, the other of
five. The child of three could hardly be said to exist as an
individual, so minutely did she imitate her elder sister; for
example, the elder child had a blue pencil and the little one
was not happy till she too had a blue pencil; when the elder
sister ate bread and butter, whatever the little one had of a
different kind, she would touch nothing but bread and butter,
and so on. This child took no interest in anything in the
school, but merely followed her sister, imitating everything
she did. One day the little one became interested in the pink
cubes, built up the tower with the liveliest interest,
repeated the exercise several times, and completely forgot
her sister. The older girl was so astonished at this, that
she called her little sister and said to her: 'How is it
that while I am filling in a circle you are building the
tower?' From that day the younger child became a personality;
she began to develop independently, and was no longer merely
the shadow or reflection of her sister."
These interesting facts concerning the spontaneous development of
qualities which hitherto were non-existent in the individual, and
which exploded _after_ the fundamental phenomenon--of intense and
prolonged interest in a task--had manifested itself, have been
confirmed by repeated experiments in a great variety of places made by
persons who had had no sort of communication one with another.
Thus, for instance, Miss Dufresne speaks of a little girl of four
years old, who seemed quite incapable of carrying a glass of water
even only half full, without spilling it; so much so that she turned
away from such a task, knowing she could not accomplish it. One day
she became absorbed in work with one or other of the objects, and
after this, she began to carry glasses of water with the greatest
ease; and as some of her companions were now painting with
water-colors, it became her great delight to carry water to them all
without spilling a single drop.
Another most significant fact is related by Miss Barton, an Australian
teacher. Among her pupils was a little girl who had not yet developed
articulate speech, and only gave utterance to inarticulate sounds; her
parents had had her examined by a doctor to find out if she were
normal; the doctor declared the child to be perfectly normal, and
considered that though she had not as yet developed speech, she would
do so in time. This child became interested in the solid insets, and
amused herself for a long time taking the cylinders out of the
cavities and putting them back in their places; and after repeating
the work with intense interest, she ran to the teacher, saying: "Come
and see!"
A phenomenon of constant occurrence when the children begin to be
interested in the work and to develop themselves is the lively joy
which seems to possess them. Certain psychologists would say, it is
the "sentimental note" corresponding to the intellectual acquisition;
a physiologist, making an exact comparison, might affirm that joy is
the indication of internal growth, just as an increase in weight is
the indication of bodily growth.
The children themselves seem to have the "sensation" of their
spiritual growth, a consciousness of the acquisitions they are making
by thus amplifying their own personalities; they demonstrate with
joyous effusion the higher process which is beginning within them.
"All the children," says Miss George, "show that pride we ourselves
experience when we have really produced something novel. They skip
round me, and throw their arms about my neck, when they have learned
to do some simple thing, saying: 'I did it all alone, you did not
think I could have done that; I did it better to-day than yesterday,'"
It is after these manifestations that a true discipline is
established, the most obvious results of which are closely related to
what we will call "respect for the work of others and consideration
for the rights of others." Henceforward a child no longer attempts to
take away another's work; even if he covet it, he waits patiently
until the object is free; and very often a child becomes interested in
watching a companion at work on some object he would like to use
himself. Afterwards, when discipline has been established by these
internal processes, it will happen all at once that a child will work
quite independently of the others, almost as if to develop his own
personality; but no "moral isolation" results from such work; on the
contrary, there is a mutual respect and affection between the
children, a sentiment which unites instead of separating; and hence is
born that complex discipline which, moreover, contains within itself
the sentiment that must accompany the order of a community.
Miss Dufresne says: "After the Christmas holidays, when school began
again, there was a great change in the class. It seemed that
discipline was establishing itself, without any effort on my part. The
children appeared to be too much absorbed in their work to indulge in
any of the disorderly actions which had marked their conduct in the
beginning. They went spontaneously to the cupboards to choose the
objects which had bored them formerly. They took the geometrical
insets, the graduated cylinders, and began to touch the outlines of
the wooden forms with their fingers; the younger children showed a
preference for the buttoning and lacing frames; they took one after
the other without any signs of fatigue, and seemed delighted with the
new objects. An atmosphere of industry pervaded the schoolroom. The
children who had hitherto chosen objects on the impulse of the moment,
henceforth manifested a desire for some sort of rule, a personal and
internal rule; they concentrated their efforts on their task, working
accurately and methodically, and showing real satisfaction in
surmounting difficulties. This precision in work produced an immediate
effect on their characters. They became capable of controlling their
nerves."
The instance which struck Miss Dufresne most was that of a little boy
of four and a half, who at first had seemed very nervous and excitable
and had disturbed the whole class: "The imagination of this child had
been developed in an extraordinary manner, so that when an object was
given to him, he took no notice of the actual form of the object, but
personified it, and further personified himself, talking perpetually,
pretending to be some one else, and seeming incapable of fixing his
attention upon the objects. While his mind was in this chaotic state
he was unable to perform any precise action; he could not, for
instance, button a single button.... All at once a miracle seemed to
take place within him. I noted the great change in him with
astonishment. He took one of the exercises as his favorite task, then
went on to choose all the others in succession, and thus calmed his
nerves."
I will choose from various individual studies made by two mistresses
of a Children's House at Rome for well-to-do children, those of two
children of very different characters. One of these children came to
the school too late, when he was too old, and had already developed in
another environment. The other is a little creature of the normal age
for entrance to the Children's Houses. The older child (a boy of five)
had already been to a Froebelian Kindergarten, where he was considered
very troublesome because of his restlessness. "For the first few days
he was a torment to us, because he wanted to work, but could not
settle to any occupation. He said of everything: 'This is a game,' and
ran about the class-room, or annoyed his companions. At last he began
to take an interest in drawing." Although normally drawing comes
_after_ the sensory exercises, he was left at liberty to do what he
wished; the teachers rightly thought that it would be useless to
insist that the child should apply himself to a different task.
Indeed, this child, having passed the age when the primary materials
answer to the psychical needs of childhood, was for the first time
attracted by an exercise of a higher order, that of drawing. "Whereas
at first the child had passed from one occupation to another, and had
even taken up the letters of the alphabet, but had never settled to
work with any one of the objects, now suddenly discipline was
established. We do not know exactly at what moment the change took
place, but discipline was maintained and perfected, and reached a
higher level in proportion to the growing interest of the child in
every kind of occupation. Interest having been primarily aroused by
drawing, the child spontaneously went on to the rods used in the
teaching of length, then to placing the plane geometric insets, and so
gradually worked through all the earlier sensory stimuli which the
teacher had passed over." Thus we see that the older child chooses the
objects in inverse order, proceeding almost methodically from the most
difficult to the elementary.
The other child of three was also quite undisciplined. The teachers
were beginning to despair of producing order in this case, when the
child began to take an interest in the solid insets and in one of the
frames. Thereupon he worked steadily and ceased to disturb his
companions.
* * * * *
In our "Children's Houses" for poor children in Rome, directed by
Signorina Maccheroni, it was possible to make more methodical
observations, and these were represented by diagrams, in order to
demonstrate the course of the phenomena more clearly.
The transverse line A B represents the quiescent state; the phenomena
of order (work) are represented above; those of disorder below. When a
child has become calm after the first strong attraction to a task, a
permanent state of order may be established in him. At this stage the
conditions most favorable to work may be studied.
PRIMITIVE CURVE OF ORDERED WORK
This is the manner in which it develops; individual type of a morning
of disciplined work.
[Illustration: Primitive Curve of Ordered Work]
The child keeps still for a while, and then chooses some task he finds
easy, such as arranging the colors in gradation; he continues working
at this for a time, but not for very long; he passes on to some more
complicated task, such as that of composing words with the movable
letters, and perseveres with this for a long time (about half an
hour). At this stage he ceases working, walks about the room, and
appears less calm; to a superficial observer he would seem to show
signs of fatigue. But after a few minutes he undertakes some much more
difficult work, and becomes so deeply absorbed in this, that he shows
us he has reached the acme of his activity (additions and writing down
the results). When this work is finished, his activity comes to an end
in all serenity; he contemplates his handiwork for a long time, then
approaches the teacher, and begins to confide in her.
The appearance of the child is that of a person who is rested,
satisfied, and uplifted.
The apparent fatigue of the child between the first and second period
of work is interesting; at that moment the aspect of the child is not
calm and happy as at the end of the curve; indeed, he shows signs of
agitation, moves about, and walks, but does not disturb the others. It
may be said that he is in search of the maximum satisfaction for his
interest, and is preparing for his "great work."
But, on the other hand, when _the cycle is completed_, the child
detaches himself from his internal concentration; refreshed and
satisfied, he experiences the higher social impulses, such as desiring
to make confidences and to hold intimate communion with other souls.
A similar process became in time the general process in a class of
disciplined children. Signorina Maccheroni sums up this complex
phenomenon as follows:
[Illustration: Whole Class at Work]
In the first period of the morning, up to about 10 a.m., the
occupation chosen is generally an easy and familiar task.
At 10 o'clock there is a great commotion; the children are restless,
they neither work nor go in quest of materials. The onlooker gets an
impression of a _tired_ class, about to become disorderly. After a few
minutes the most perfect order reigns once more; the children are
promptly absorbed in work again; they have chosen new and more
difficult occupations.
When this work ceases, the children are gentle, calm, and happy.
If in the period of "false fatigue" at 10 a.m. an inexperienced
teacher, interpreting the phenomenon of suspension or preparation for
the culminating work as disorder, intervenes, calling the children to
her, and making them rest, etc., their restlessness persists, and the
subsequent work is not undertaken. The children do not become calm:
they remain in an abnormal state. In other words, if they are
interrupted in their cycle, they lose all the characteristics
connected with _an internal process regularly and completely carried
out_.
* * * * *
The single curve of individual orderly work is not general, nor
strictly constant in the type described. But it may be considered as
the average type of work in the level of order achieved. It will be
interesting, first of all, to consider the curve of children in whom
_order has not yet been established_. Poor children hardly ever show
themselves to be in such a state of utter confusion as rich ones; they
are _always_ more or less attracted by the objects, and respond to
them with a certain interest from the very first moment. Such
interest, however, is at first superficial. They are attracted mainly
by curiosity, by a desire to handle "pretty things." They amuse
themselves for some time, it is true, with single objects, changing
and selecting them, but without developing any deep interest. The
characteristic of this period, which may be altogether lacking in a
class of well-to-do children, is that of _alternations of disorder_.
The following diagram represents this period.
INDIVIDUAL DIFFERENCES
STAGE PRECEDING THE EVOLUTION OF ORDER
[Illustration: _Individual curve of a poor child_]
The various curves of work are to be found below the line of
quiescence, in state of disorder. It was only when the children were
called to order collectively that this child was still, unless it was
rising towards work; in this case, however, it did not persevere, and
the curve drops suddenly below. It should be noted that in the
irregular course of this diagram we may trace a period of easy work
preceding a period of difficult work (frame, plane insets) and between
these two the maximum decline into disorder.
CURVE OF WORK
OF A VERY POOR CHILD, ALMOST ENTIRELY
NEGLECTED BY ITS PARENTS, AND VERY
TURBULENT
[Illustration: _Period of Disorder_]
The child in question (O) seemed to have a tendency to learn from
others; he ran away from work or was attracted by it only for a brief
moment; and seemed incapable of receiving direct teaching. If any
attempt was made to teach him something, he grimaced and ran away. He
wandered about, disturbing his companions, and seemed quite
intractable; but he listened attentively to the lessons the teacher
gave to the other children.
[Illustration: _Advance towards Order_]
When he began to work, after having learned how to do so, he
persevered, and the normal process is apparent in the diagram; that is
to say, preliminary work, a pause (during which the child relapsed
slightly and momentarily into his habit of disturbing his companions),
then the curve of great application, and of final repose (during
which, however, he again relapsed into his characteristic defect). The
summits of the diagram show not only interest in the work, but a
marked kindliness; the child was not only calm, but seemed full of
beatitude and gentleness; when at the height of his labors he
frequently looked round at his companions, and blew little kisses to
them on his fingers, but without relaxing his attention. It seemed as
if a fount of love were gushing up from the fulness of his internal
satisfaction, from the depths of a soul that had appeared at first so
rough and uncouth.
[Illustration: CURVE OF WORK OF A WEAKLY CHILD]
The diagram is made up of curves that fall upon the line of
quiescence; unity of curve is lacking, hence unity of effort. The
culminating point of work is reached after a preliminary task of an
easier kind; and the supreme task (color) is briefly resumed, after
the great impetus has been exhausted. The phase of rest is not clearly
defined; the child turns to a very easy task (solid insets). A certain
feebleness of character seems to manifest itself in the half-hearted
mental processes. The child makes many successive efforts to rise; but
he can neither make the decisive, vigorous effort, nor come to a
definite decision to cease working. The child is calm, but his state
of calm has no variations; he is neither lively, nor serene, nor does
he show strong affectionate impulses.
COURSE OF PROGRESS
When the whole class is disciplined, the course of development of the
internal activities may be observed.
It must be remembered that the material of development affords
graduated exercises passing from the most rudimentary sensory
exercises to exercises in writing, calculating, and reading. The
children are free to choose the exercises they prefer; but of course,
as the teacher initiates them in each exercise, they only choose the
objects they know how to use. The teacher, observing them, sees when
the child is sufficiently matured for more advanced exercises, and
introduces them to him, or perhaps the child begins them for himself,
after watching other children more advanced.
We must bear such conditions in mind in order to follow "progress" in
work.
[Illustration: Course of Progress]
The two curves represent stages of greatest development as compared
with the primary curve of orderly work. The stage of unrest between
the easy and the more difficult work tends to disappear; the child
seems more _sure of himself_; he goes more directly and readily to the
choice of his culminating exercise.
Consequently, two successive phases of uninterrupted work are left;
one may be called the _phase of preparation_, the other the _phase of
serious work_. The phase of preparation lasts a very short time, the
_serious work_ is of much longer duration; it is noteworthy that the
period of _rest_, with its characteristic air of _comfort_ and
_serenity_, sets in after the _maximum effort has spontaneously spent
itself_. On the other hand, it happens invariably that any external
interruption of the effort causes the child to show signs of fatigue
(restlessness), or to become inattentive.
In the first curve, the initial work consists of two easy tasks,
carried on for a short time, and from these the child passes directly
to the serious work. The finale is a spell of rest full of thought;
the child ceases to work, but contemplates his finished task for a
long time in silence; before preparing to put it away, or, after
having contemplated his own work, he goes quietly to watch that of the
others.
In the second curve there is a very noticeable parallelism with the
line of repose; the child pursues his labors almost uniformly, and the
sole difference between the initial work and the serious work is in
their different duration. The contemplative period becomes henceforth
an obvious "period of internal work," almost a period of
"assimilation" or "internal maturation." Observation of the work of
others becomes increasingly frequent, as if it were a spontaneous
"comparative" study between the child himself and his companions; or
as if an active interest in the contemplation of the external
surroundings were developing: the period of discovery. We may say that
_the child studies himself in his own productions and puts himself
into communion with his companions and his environment_.
At this stage the completion of an entire cycle will exercise an
influence more and more far-reaching on the personality of the child.
Not only is he spurred on to a work of intimate concentration
immediately after his culminating effort; he preserves a permanent
attitude of thought, of internal equilibrium, of sustained interest in
his environment. He becomes a personality who has reached a higher
degree of evolution. This is the period when the child begins to be
"master of himself" and enters upon that characteristic phenomenon I
have called the "phenomenon of obedience." He _can obey_, that is, he
can control his actions, and therefore can direct them in accordance
with the desires of another person. He can break off a piece of work
when interrupted, without becoming disorderly or showing symptoms of
fatigue. Moreover, work has become his habitual attitude, and the
child can no longer bear to be idle. When, for instance, we call some
of the children who are in this stage to the lessons for teachers, in
which they are to serve as the "subjects of study," they lend
themselves with ready docility to that which we ask of them, they
submit to the measurements of height, heads, etc., and they perform
the exercises we suggest, responding always with _interest_, and not
merely with resignation, as if they were conscious of collaborating
with us. But when they have to _wait_, seated on one side till they
are called forward, they cannot sit idle; they work at something.
Inactivity has become intolerable to them. Very often, while I am
giving the lesson, the children take the lacing or tying frames, or
cover the floor with words made with the movable letters; and where
this is feasible, some of the children will draw or paint in these
moments of waiting.
All these things have now become expressions of intelligent activity,
which form part of their psychical organism.
But to ensure the continuance of this attitude and of the development
of personality it is essential that _some real task_ should be
performed each day; for it is from the completed cycle of an activity,
from methodical concentration, that the child develops equilibrium,
elasticity, adaptability, and the resulting power to perform the
higher actions, such as those which are termed acts of obedience. This
makes one think of the method prescribed by the Catholic religion for
the preservation of the forces of spiritual life: that is, a period of
"spiritual concentration," which opens up the possibility of acquiring
"moral powers." It is from methodical "meditation" that moral
personality must draw its powers of solidification, without which the
"inner man," incoherent and unbalanced, fails to possess itself and
dispose of itself for noble ends.
Children have always need of the period of concentration, and serious
work from which they derive the capacity for final development.
The following diagram represents a very lofty stage of childish
development:
[Illustration: SUPERIOR STAGE _Average type_]
Even the preparatory work is now of a higher kind: as soon as the
child comes into school, he will choose, for instance, the letters of
the alphabet, or will write, then (his strenuous work) he will read.
For recreation he will choose an intelligent pastime, such as looking
at illustrated books.
All his intellectual occupations are of a higher order, as are also
his moral attributes (obedience, serenity, perseverance).
Taking the line of quiescence as a level of development, it follows
that the level has become higher.
[Illustration: _Line of work_]
In a superior stage, the line of work tends to become straight,
parallel to the line of quiescence.
Meanwhile it has been established that it is possible to determine
_degrees of development_, or _averages_ of internal development, by
means of which individual variations may be studied. In the primordial
type the characteristics are _disorderly conduct_, and _incapacity to
concentrate attention_; in such a case there is no real line of work,
and the main part of the diagram remains below the line of quiescence.
For the type in which the phenomenon of permanent concentration of
attention on a task has manifested itself, the average characteristic
diagram of normal orderly work of the first degree is now established:
_i. e. preliminary_ work followed by a period of restlessness, and
then _strenuous work_ followed by a state of repose.
Afterwards we distinguish a second degree, where the average is
characterized by the disappearance of the period of unrest, and the
strenuous work is brought to a close in contemplation; this is the
stage of discoveries, of generalized observation, of obedience; work
has become a habit.
This is followed by a general elevation, to be recognized by the
choice of higher preliminary work; disciplined behavior has become a
habit.
During this progression the diagram of work tends to become straight,
and parallel to the line of quiescence.
[Illustrations: A RECAPITULATORY TABLE OF DEVELOPMENT
_Diagrams of average developments_]
The rise in the level of the plane is related to the qualities of more
advanced intellectual work; and the straightening of the line is
related to qualities of internal _construction_ and of the
_organization of the personality_; qualities which would be considered
of a _moral order_, such as serenity, discipline, self-mastery as
manifested in obedience and in the various activities of the child.
When work has become a habit, the intellectual level rises rapidly,
and organized order causes good conduct to become a _habit_. Children
then work with order, perseverance, and discipline, persistently and
naturally; the permanent, calm, and vivifying work of the physical
organism resembles the respiratory rhythm.
The pivot, the medium of this construction of the personality, is
working in freedom, in accordance with the natural wants of the inner
life; thus _freedom in intellectual work_ is found to be the _basis of
internal discipline_. The great achievement of the "Children's
Houses" (_Case dei Bambini_) is to produce _disciplined children_.
It is this internal organization which gives them a special "type," or
character, the type or character _required_ to continue the free
exercise of activities for the _conquests of culture_ in successive
stages.
The elementary school period presents itself insensibly as a
continuation of the "Children's Houses." In these, _behavior is a
habit_ superposed on and fused with the earlier _habit of work_.
Henceforth it will be sufficient to present the material of further
culture, and the child, gradually exercising himself upon it, will
pass from one intellectual stage of culture to another.
The difference shown in the successive ages arises from an
intellectual interest which is no longer merely the impulse to
exercise oneself by repetition of the exercises, but is a higher
interest directed to the work itself, and tending to complete an
external work, or to complete a branch of knowledge as a whole. Thus
the child creates and seeks for things organized in themselves; for
instance, he desires to compose a design by means of combinations of
geometrical figures with the metal insets, and devotes himself to this
work with the greatest intensity until he has completed it. Again, we
see a child occupied for seven or eight consecutive days with the same
work. Another child becomes interested in the potentialities of
numbers or in the arithmetical frame, and perseveres with the same
work for days, until his knowledge of it has matured.
Upon a basis of interior order produced by internal organization, the
mind then builds up its castle with the same leisurely calm with which
a living organism grows spontaneously after birth.
We can give but a primary idea at present of the _practical
possibility_ of determining _average levels_ of interior development
according to age. We shall further require many perfect experiments,
in which homogeneous children, completely suitable environment, and
trained teachers will afford adequate material for observation. Then
students will be able to undertake a scientific work, which will
perhaps be characterized by a precision superior even to that with
which it is at present possible to measure the body, and give the
mathematical averages of growth.
We must consider, however, that the indications available to-day
represent a long, systematic toil, and that they rest upon the still
greater labor of finding external material means for natural
development.
This will give some idea of the difficulty of scientific researches,
which many still believe it possible to make by means of arbitrary and
superficial tests such as those of Binet and Simon!
* * * * *
The study of the child cannot be accomplished by an "instantaneous"
process; his characteristics can only be illustrated cinematographically.
"External means," organized in accordance with the needs of psychical
life, are of fundamental importance; for how is it possible to judge
of individual differences in the acquisition of internal order, in the
ascent to abstraction, in the progressive stages of intellectual
development, in the achievement of discipline, without the existence
of pre-determined and unvarying external means which, like so many
points of support, lead the child in process of formation towards his
goal?
In order to determine _individual differences_ logically, there must
be a _constant work or aim_; and this is the external means on which
each personality builds itself up. When the external support is the
same, and corresponds in general to the psychical needs of a given
age, a difference of internal construction is _due to the individual
himself_. On the other hand, if the means were different, the
variations in reaction might be attributed to differences in the
means.
Finally, it is obvious that in all scientific research, the
_instrument of measurement_ must be fixed. But each _thing to be
measured_ requires a special instrument, and the constant instrument
in psychical measurement should be "the method of education."
A series of formulae, such as the Binet-Simon tests, can neither
measure anything, nor give even an approximate idea of intellectual
levels of intelligence according to age; as to the children who
respond, whence is their response derived? How far is this due to the
intrinsic activity of the individual, and how far to the action of
environment? And if the portion due to environment be ignored, who can
determine what intrinsic psychical value should be given to the
response?
In each personality we must recognize two parts: one is the
individual, natural, spontaneous activity by means of which elements
may be taken from the environment wherewith the personality may be
elaborated internally, constructed and augmented, and hence
_characterized_; another part is the external instrument with which
all this may be done. For instance, a child who at the age of four can
recognize sixty-four colors, shows that he possesses remarkable
activity in the perception of colors, and in the arrangement of them
in gradation in his mind, etc.; but he also shows that he has had the
means to accomplish this achievement; he has had, for instance,
sixty-four color-tablets, with which he has been able to practise at
his leisure and undisturbed, as long as was necessary for such
assimilation.
The psychical factor P is the sum of two factors, one internal, the
other external:
P = I + E
of these the unknown, non-directly measurable factor I may be
indicated by X:
P = X + E
If we were to compare two children, one of whom has had at his
disposal the sixty-four colors in the conditions described above, and
another who has been left to himself in poor surroundings, where gray
and brown tints prevail, and who seems dull and unobservant, etc., we
should find a very remarkable psychical difference. Such a difference
is not, however, intrinsic; it might well be that, subjected to the
same conditions as the first child, the second would recognize the
sixty-four colors. The judgment we should give in such a case would be
based upon an external factor, not upon internal potentialities. We
should really be appraising two different environments, not two
different individuals.
To enable us to judge of individual differences, it would be necessary
for the two children to have had _the same means of development_. In
this case, if at the same age they were not equally capable of
distinguishing the sixty-four colors, but if, for instance, one of the
two could recognize only thirty of these, a true individual psychical
difference would be apparent. One of the tests proposed by one of the
greatest authorities on experimental psychology in Italy, to determine
the intellectual level of sub-normal (backward or deficient)
children, was to make a child pick out the largest and the smallest
cube in a series. This choice, in common with nearly all the tests
proposed for the same purpose, we considered quite independently of
the influence of _culture_ and _education_; and it was appreciated as
the expression of an intimate, personal activity of the intelligence
itself. But if one of the deficient children I had educated on my
method had been subjected to the test, he would, in virtue of a long
sensory training, have chosen the largest and the smallest cube very
much more easily than the children selected by the psychologist from
his special schools; and my deficient child might even have been not
only younger, but even more backward intellectually than the other.
The test would therefore have measured the different methods of
education, whereas the psychical differences between the two children,
really existent by reason of age or of intellectual attainment, would
have remained absolutely obscure.
Man is a fusion of personality and education, and education includes
the series of experiences he undergoes during his life. The two things
cannot be separated in the individual: intelligence without
acquirement is an abstraction. That which holds good of all living
beings: that the individual cannot be divorced from his environment,
is more profoundly true in its application to psychical life, because
the content of environment, constituting the means of auto-experience
which evolves man, is an essential part of him, and, indeed, is the
individual himself. Nevertheless, we all know that the psychical
individual is not his environment, but a life in himself.
Given the formula
P = X + E
in which X is the internal and intrinsic part peculiar to the
individual life, it may be said that every individual has his X. But
in order to _approach_ to direct knowledge of X, it is essential to
know P and E.