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THE MONTESSORI METHOD

THE

MONTESSORI METHOD

SCIENTIFIC PEDAGOGY AS APPLIED TO CHILD

EDUCATION IN "THE CHILDREN'S HOUSES"

WITH ADDITIONS AND REVISIONS

BY THE AUTHOR

MARIA MONTESSORI ^

TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN BY

ANNE E. GEORGE

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

PROFESSOR HENRY W. HOLMES

OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY

WITH THIRTY-TWO ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS

SECOND EDITION

NEW YORK

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY

MCMXII

April, 1912

I place at the beginning of this volume, now ap-
pearing in the United States, her fatherland, the
dear name of

ALICE HALLGARTEN

of New York, who by her marriage to Baron Leo-
pold Franchetti became by choice our compatriot.

Ever a firm believer in the principles underlying
the Case del Bambini, she, with her husband, for-
warded the publication of this book in Italy, and,
throughout the last years of her short life, greatly
desired the English translation which should intro-
duce to the land of her birth the work so near
her heart.

To her memory I dedicate this book, whose pages,
like an ever-living flower, perpetuate the recollection
of her beneficence.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Grateful acknowledgment is made to Mrs. Guy
Baring, of London, for the loan of her manuscript
translation of " Pedagogia Scientifica " ; to Mrs.
John R. Fisher (Dorothy Canfield) for translating
a large part of the new work written Uy Dr.
Montessori for the American Edition ; and to The
House of Childhood, Inc., New York, for use of
the illustrations of the didactic apparatus. Dr.
Montessori's patent rights in the apparatus are con-
trolled, for the United States and Canada, by The
House of Childhood, Inc.

THE PUBLISHERS.

PKEFACE TO THE AMEKICAN EDITION

IN February, 1911, Professor Henry W. Holmes, of
the Division of Education of Harvard University, did me
the honour to suggest that an English translation be made
of my Italian volume, ffll Metodo della Pedagogia Scien-
tifica applicato all' educazione infantile nelle Case del
Bambini." This suggestion represented one of the greatest
events in the history of my educational work. To-day,
that to which I then looked forward as an unusual privilege
has become an accomplished fact.

The Italian edition of ffll Metodo della Pedagogia
Scientifica" had no preface, because the book itself I con-
sider nothing more than the preface to a more compre-
hensive work, the aim and extent of which it only indi-
cates. For the educational method for children of from
three to six years set forth here is but the earnest of a
work that, developing the same principle and method, shall
cover in a like manner the successive stages of education.
Moreover, the method which obtains in the Case dei Bam-
bini offers, it seems to me, an experimental field for the
study of man, and promises, perhaps, the development of
a science that shall disclose other secrets of nature.

In the period that has elapsed between the publication
of the Italian and American editions, I have had, with my
pupils, the opportunity to simplify and render more exact
certain practical details of the method, and to gather addi-
tional observations concerning discipline. The results
attest the vitality of the method and the necessity for an

vii

viii PBEFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION

extended scientific collaboration in the near future, and are
embodied in two new chapters written for the American
edition. I know that my method has been widely spoken
of in America, thanks to Mr. S. S. McClure, who has pre-
sented it through the pages of his well-known magazine.
Indeed, many Americans have already come to Rome for
the purpose of observing personally the practical applica-
tion of the method in my little schools. If, encouraged by
this movement, I may express a hope for the future, it is
that my work, in Rome shall become the centre of an effi-
cient and helpful collaboration.

To the Harvard professors who have made my work
known in America and to McC lure's Magazine, a mere
acknowledgment of what I owe them is a barren response ;
but it is my hope that the method itself, in its effect upon
the children of America, may prove an adequate expression
of my gratitude.

MAEIA MONTESSOEI.

ROME, 1912.

CONTENTS

PAGE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS V

PREFACE VII

INTRODUCTION XVII

CHAPTER I

A CRITICAL CONSIDERATION OF THE NEW PEDAGOGY IN ITS RELATION
TO MODERN SCIENCE

Influence of Modern Science upon Pedagogy 1

Italy's part in the development of Scientific Pedagogy . . 4

Difference between scientific technique and the scientific spirit 7
Direction of the preparation should be toward the spirit rather

than toward the mechanism 9

The master to study man in the awakening of his intellectual

life 12

Attitude of the teacher in the light of another example . . 13
The school must permit the free natural manifestations of the

child if in the school Scientific Pedagogy is to be born . 15
Stationary desks and chairs proof that the principle of slavery

still informs the school 16

Conquest of liberty, what the school needs 19

What may happen to the spirit 20

Prizes and punishments, the bench of the soul .... 21
All human victories, all human progress, stand upon the inner

force 24

CHAPTER II

HISTORY OF METHODS

Necessity of establishing the method peculiar to Scientific

Pedagogy 28

Origin of educational system in use in the "Children's Houses" 31
Practical application of the methods of Itard and Se"guin in

the Orthophrenic School at Rome 32

Origin of the methods for the education of deficients ... 33

Application of the methods in Germany and France ... 35

Se"guin's first didactic material was spiritual 37

Methods for deficients applied to the education of normal

children 42

Social and pedagogic importance of the "Children's Houses" . 44

x CONTENTS

CHAPTER III

INAUGURAL ADDRESS DELIVERED ON THE OCCASION OF THE OPENING OP
ONE OF THE "CHILDREN'S HOUSES"

PAGE

The Quarter of San Lorenzo before and since the establishment

of the "Children's Houses" 48

Evil of subletting the most cruel form of usury .... 50

The problem of life more profound than that of the intel-
lectual elevation of the poor 52

Isolation of the masses of the poor, unknown to past centuries 53

Work of the Roman Association of Good Building and the

moral importance of their reforms .56

The "Children's House" earned by the parents through their

care of the building 60

Pedagogical organization of the "Children's House" ... 62

The "Children's House" the first step toward the socialisation

of the house 65

The communised house in its relation to the home and to the

spiritual evolution of women 66

Rules and regulations of the "Children's Houses" .... 70

CHAPTER IV

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS USED IN THE "CHILDREN'S HOUSES"

Child psychology can be established only through the method

of external observation 72

Anthropological consideration 73

Anthropological notes 77

Environment and schoolroom furnishings 80

CHAPTER V

DISCIPLINE

Discipline through liberty 86

Independence 95

Abolition of prizes and external forms of punishment . . . 101

Biological concept of liberty in pedagogy 104

CHAPTER VI

HOW THE LESSON SHOULD BE GIVEN

Characteristics of the individual lessons 107

Method of observation the fundamental guide 108

Difference between the scientific and unscientific methods illus-
trated 109

First task of educators to stimulate life, leaving it then free

to develop . . . . , . 115

CONTENTS xi

CHAPTER VII

EXERCISES OF PRACTICAL LIFE

PAGE

Suggested schedule for the "Children's Houses" 119

The child must be prepared for the forms of social life and

his attention attracted to these forms 121

Cleanliness, order, poise, conversation 122

CHAPTER VIII

REFECTION — THE CHILD'S DIET

Diet must be adapted to the child's physical nature . . . 125

Foods and their preparation 126

Drinks 132

Distribution of meals 133

CHAPTER IX

MUSCULAR EDUCATION — GYMNASTICS

Generally accepted idea of gymnastics is inadequate ... 137

The special gymnastics necessary for little children ... 138

Other pieces of gymnastic apparatus 141

Free gymnastics 144

Educational gymnastics 144

Respiratory gymnastics, and labial, dental, and lingual gym-
nastics 147

CHAPTER X

NATURE IN EDUCATION — AGRICULTURAL LABOUR: CULTURE OF PLANTS
AND ANIMALS

The savage of the Aveyron 149

Itard's educative drama repeated in the education of little

children 153

Gardening and horticulture basis of a method for education

of children ... 1 155

The child initiated into observation of the phenomena of life

and into foresight by way of auto-education .... 156
Children are initiated into the virtue of patience and into

confident expectation, and are inspired with a feeling for

nature 159

The child follows the natural way of development of the

human race . 160

xii CONTENTS

CHAPTER XI

MANUAL LABOUR THE POTTER'S ART, AND BUILDING

PAGE

Difference between manual labour and manual gymnasties . 162

The School of Educative Art 163

Archaeological, historical, and artistic importance of the vase 164
Manufacture of diminutive bricks and construction of

diminutive walls and houses 165

CHAPTER XII

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES

Aim of education to develop the energies 168

Difference in the reaction between deficient and normal
children in the presentation of didactic material made up
of graded stimuli 169

Education of the senses has as its aim the refinement of the
differential perception of stimuli by means of repeated
exercises 173

Three Periods of Seguin 177

CHAPTER XIII

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES AND ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE DIDACTIC
MATERIAL: GENERAL SENSIBILITY: THE TACTILE, THERMIC, BARIC
AND STEREO GNOSTIC SENSES

Education of the tactile, thermic and baric senses .... 185

Education of the stereognostic sense 188

Education of the senses of taste and smell 190

Education of the sense of vision 191

Exercises with the three series of cards 199

Education of the chromatic sense 200

Exercise for the discrimination of sounds 203

Musical education 206

Tests for acuteness of hearing 209

A lesson in silence 212

CHAPTER XIV

GENERAL NOTES ON THE EDUCATION OF THE SENSES

Aim in education biological and social 215

Education of the senses makes men observers and prepares

them directly for practical life 213

CONTENTS xiii

CHAPTER XV

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION

PAGE

Sense exercises a species of auto-education 224

Importance of an exact nomenclature, and how to teach it . 225
Spontaneous progress of the child the greatest triumph of

Scientific Pedagogy 228

Games of the blind 231

Application of the visual sense to the observation of environ-
ment 232

Method of using didactic material : dimensions, form, design . 233

Free plastic work 241

Geometric analysis of figures 243

Exercises in the chromatic sense 244

CHAPTER XVI

METHOD FOR THE TEACHING OF READING AND WRITING

Spontaneous development of graphic language: Seguin and

Itard 246

Necessity of a special education that shall fit man for ob-
jective observation and direct logical thought .... 252
Results of objective observation and logical thought . . . 253
Not necessary to begin teaching writing with vertical strokes . 257

Spontaneous drawing of normal children 258

Use of Froebel mats in teaching children sewing .... 260
Children should be taught how before they are made to exe-
cute a task 261

Two diverse forms of movement made in writing .... 262

Experiments with normal children 267

Origin of aphabets in present use 269

CHAPTER XVII

DESCRIPTION OF THE METHOD AND DIDACTIC MATERIAL USED

Exercise tending to develop the muscular mechanism neces-
sary in holding and using the instrument in writing . 271

Didactic material for writing 271

Exercise tending to establish the visual-muscular image of the
alphabetical signs, and to establish the muscular memory

of the movements necessary to writing 275

Exercises for the composition of words 281

Reading, the interpretation of an idea from written signs . 296

Games for the reading of \ ords 299

Games for the reading of phrases 303

Point education has reached in the "Children's Houses" 307

xiv CONTENTS

CHAPTER XVIII

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD

PAGE

Physiological importance of graphic language 310

Two periods in the development of language 312

Analysis of speech necessary 319

Defects of language due to education 322

CHAPTER XIX

TEACHING OF NUMERATION: INTRODUCTION TO ARITHMETIC

Numbers as represented by graphic signs 328

Exercises for the memory of numbers 330

Addition and subtraction from one to twenty: multiplication

and division 332

Lessons on decimals: arithmetical calculations beyond ten . 335

CHAPTER XX

SEQUENCE OF EXERCISES

Sequence and grades in the presentation of material and in

the exercises 338

First grade 338

Second grade 339

Third grade 342

Fourth grade 343

Fifth grade 345

CHAPTER XXI

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE

/ Discipline better than in ordinary schools 346

First dawning of discipline comes through work .... 350
Orderly action is the true rest for muscles intended by nature

for action 354

The exercise that develops life consists in the repetition, not

in the mere grasp of the idea 358

Aim of repetition that the child shall refine his senses
through the exercise of attention, of comparison, of judg-
ment 360

Obedience is naturally sacrifice 363

Obedience develops will-power and the capacity to perform

the act it becomes necessary to obey 367

CHAPTER XXII

CONCLUSIONS AND IMPRESSIONS

The teacher has become the director of spontaneous work

in the "Children's Houses" 371

The problems of religious education should be solved by posi-
tive pedagogy 372

Spiritual influence of the "Children's Houses" 376

ILLUSTRATIONS

Dr. Montessori giving a lesson in touching geometrical

insets Frontispiece

FACING
PAGE

Dr. Montessori in the garden of the school at Via

Giusti 144

Children learning to button and lace. Eibbon and

button frames 145

Children playing a game with tablets of coloured silk 186

Girl touching a letter and boy telling objects by weight 187

Pupils arranging colours in chromatic order . . . 187

Didactic apparatus to teach differentiation of objects 190
Blocks by which children are taught thickness, length

and size , 191

Geometric insets to teach form 194

Geometric insets and cabinet 195

Cards used in teaching form and contour .... 196

Frames illustrating lacing; shoe buttoning ; buttoning

of other garments ; hooks and eyes . . . . 200

Tablets with silk, for educating the chromatic sense . 201
Didactic apparatus for training the sense of touch,

and for teaching writing . . ... . . . 282

Children touching letters and making words with card-
board script 283

Montessori children eating dinner 348

School at Tarrytown, N. Y 349

DR. MONTESSORI GIVING A LESSON IN TOUCHING GEOMETRICAL INSETS

AN audience already thoroughly interested awaits this
translation of a remarkable book. For years no educa-
tional document has been so eagerly expected by so large
a public, and not many have be.tter merited general antici-
pation. That this widespread interest exists is due to the
enthusiastic and ingenious articles in McClures Magazine
for May and December, 1911, and January, 1912; but
before the first of these articles appeared a number of
English and American teachers had given careful study
to Dr. Montessori's work, and had found it novel and
important. The astonishing welcome accorded to the first
popular expositions of the Montessori system may mean
much or little for its future in England and America ; it
is rather the earlier approval of a few trained teachers and
professional students that commends it to the educational
workers who must ultimately decide upon its value, inter-
pret its technicalities to the country at large, and adapt
it to English and American conditions. To them as well as
to the general public this brief critical Introduction is
addressed.

It is wholly within the bounds of safe judgment to call
Dr. Montessori's work remarkable, novel, and important.
It is remarkable, if for no other reason, because it repre-
sents the constructive effort of a woman. We have no other
example of an educational system — original at least in its
systematic wholeness and in its practical application —
worked out and inaugurated by the feminine mind and

xvii

xviii INTRODUCTION

hand. It is remarkable, also, because it springs from a
combination of womanly sympathy • and intuition, broad
social outlook, scientific training, intensive and long-con-
tinued study of educational problems, and, to crown all,
varied and unusual experience as a teacher and educational
leader. No other woman who has dealt with Dr. Montes-
sori's problem — the education of young children — has
brought to it personal resources so richly diverse as hers.
These resources, furthermore, she has devoted to her work
with an enthusiasm, an absolute abandon, like that of
Pestalozzi and Froebel, and she presents her convictions
with an apostolic ardour which commands attention. A
system which embodies such a capital of human effort
could not be unimportant. Then, too, certain aspects of
the system are in themselves striking and significant: it
adapts to the education of normal children methods and
apparatus originally used for deficients; it is based on a
radical conception of liberty for the pupil; it entails a
highly formal training of separate sensory, motor, and
mental capacities; and it leads to rapid, easy, and sub-
stantial mastery of the elements of reading, writing, and
arithmetic. All this will be apparent to the most casual
reader of this book.

None of these things, to be sure, is absolutely new in the
educational world. All have been proposed in theory;
some have been put more or less completely into practice.
It is not unjust, for instance, to point out that much of the
material used by Dr. Walter S. Fernald, Superintendent of
the Massachusetts Institution for the Feeble-Minded at
Waverley, is almost identical with the Montessori material,
and that Dr. Fernald has long maintained that it could be
used to good effect in the education of normal children.
(It may interest American readers to know that Seguin,

INTKODUCTION xix

on whose work that of Dr. Montessori is based, was once
head of the school at Waverley. ) So, too, formal training *
in various psycho-physical processes has been much urged
of late by a good many workers in experimental pedagogy,
especially by Meumann. But before Montessori, no one
had produced a system in which the elements named above
were combined. She conceived it, elaborated it in practice,
and established it in schools. It is indeed the final result,
as Dr. Montessori proudly asserts, of years of experimental
effort both on her own part and on the part of her great
predecessors; but the crystallisation of these experiments
in a programme of education for normal children is due to
Dr. Montessori alone. The incidental features which she
has frankly taken over from other modern educators she
has chosen because they fit into the fundamental form of
her own scheme, and she has unified them all in her general
conception of method. The system is not original in the
sense in which FroebeFs system was original ; but as a sys-
tem it is the novel product of a single woman's creative
genius.

As such, no student of elementary education ought to
ignore it. The system doubtless fails to solve all the prob-
lems in the education of young children ; possibly some of
the solutions it proposes are partly or completely mistaken ;
some are probably unavailable in English and American
schools ; but a system of education does not have to attain
perfection in order to merit study, investigation, and ex-
perimental use. Dr. Montessori is too large-minded to
claim infallibility, and too thoroughly scientific in her atti-
tude to object to careful scrutiny of her scheme and the
thorough testing of its results. She expressly states that it
is not yet complete. Practically, it is highly probable that .
the system ultimately adopted in our schools will combine "

INTKODUCTION

elements of the Montessori programme with elements of the
kindergarten programme, both "liberal" and "conserva-
tive." In its actual procedure school work must always be
thus eclectic. An all-or-nothing policy for a single system
inevitably courts defeat ; for the public is not interested in
systems as systems, and refuses in the end to believe that
any one system contains every good thing. Nor can we
doubt that this attitude is essentially sound. If we con-
tinue, despite the pragmatists, to believe in absolute prin-
ciples, we may yet remain skeptical about the logic of their
reduction to practice — at least in any fixed programme of
education. We are not yet justified, at any rate, in adopt-
ing one programme to the exclusion of every other simply
because it is based on the most intelligible or the most
inspiring philosophy. The pragmatic test must also be
applied, and rigorously. We must try out several com-
binations, watch and record the results, compare them, and
proceed cautiously to new experiments. This procedure is
desirable for every stage and grade of education, but espe-
cially for the earliest stage, because there it has been least
attempted and is most difficult. Certainly a system so radi-
cal, so clearly defined, and so well developed as that of
Dr. Montessori offers for the thoroughgoing comparative
study of methods in early education new material of ex-
ceptional importance. Without accepting every detail of
the system, without even accepting unqualifiedly its fun-
damental principles, one may welcome it, thus, as of great
and immediate value. If early education is worth study-
ing at all, the educator who devotes his attention to it will
find it necessary to define the differences in principle be-
tween the Montessori programme and other programmes,
and to carry out careful tests of the results obtainable from
the various systems and their feasible combinations.

INTBODUCTION xxi

One such combination this Introduction will suggest,
and it will discuss also the possible uses of the Montessori '
apparatus in the home ; but it may be helpful first to pre-
sent the outstanding characteristics of the Montessori
system as compared with the modern kindergarten in its
two main forms.

Certain similarities in principle are soon apparent. o0^
''Dr. Montessori's views of childhood are in some respects
identical with those of Froebel, although in general de-
cidedly more radical. Both defend the child's right to be
active, to explore his environment and develop his own
inner resources through every form of investigation and
creative effort. Education is to guide activity, not repress
it. Environment cannot create human power, but only
give it scope and material, direct it, or at most but call it
forth ; and the teacher's task is first to nourish and assist,
to watch, encourage, guide, induce, rather than to inter-
fere, prescribe, or restrict. To most American teachers
and to all kindergartners this principle has long been
familiar; they will but welcome now a new and eloquent
statement of it from a modern viewpoint. In the practical
interpretation of the principle, however, there is decided j
divergence between the Montessori school and the kinder- !
garten. The Montessori "directress" does not teach chil-
dren in groups, with the practical requirement, no matter \>^
how well "mediated," that each member of the group shall
join in the exercise. The Montessori pupil does about as
he pleases, so long as he does not do any harm.

Montessori and Froebel stand in agreement also on the •
need for training of the senses; but Montessori's scheme
for this training is at once more elaborate and more direct
than Froebel's. She has devised out of Seguin's apparatus
a comprehensive and scientific scheme for formal gymnastic

xxii INTRODUCTION

of the senses ; Froebel originated a series of objects designed
for a much broader and more creative use by the children,
but by no means so closely adapted to the training of sensory
discrimination. The Montessori material carries out the
fundamental principle of Pestalozzi, which he tried in
vain to embody in a successful system of his own^: it "de-
velops piece by piece the pupil's mental capacities" by
training separately, through repeated exercises, his several
senses and his ability to distinguish, compare, and handle
typical objects. In the kindergarten system, and par-
ticularly in the "liberal" modifications of it, sense training
is incidental to constructive and imaginative activity in
which the children are pursuing larger ends than the mere
arrangement of forms or colours. Even in the most formal
work in kindergarten design the children are "making a
picture," and are encouraged to tell what it looks like — "a
star," "a kite," "a flower."

As to physical education, the two systems agree in much
the same way : both affirm the need for free bodily activity,
for rhythmic exercises, and for the development of mus-
cular control; but whereas the kindergarten seeks much
of all this through group games with an imaginative or
social content, the Montessori scheme places the emphasis
on special exercises designed to give formal training in
separate physical functions.

In another general aspect, however, the agreement be-
tween the two systems, strong in principle, leaves the
Hontesso^i^system less formal rather than more formal in
practice. The principle in this case consists of the affir-
mation of the child's need for social training. In the con-
servative kindergarten this training is sought once more,
largely in group games. These are usually imaginative,
and sometimes decidedly symbolic: that is, the children

INTRODUCTION xxiii

play at being farmers, millers, shoemakers, mothers and
fathers, birds, animals, knights, or soldiers ; they sing songs,
go through certain semi-dramatic activities — such as "open-
ing the pigeon house," "mowing the grass/' "showing the
good child to the knights," and the like ; and each takes his
part in the representation of some typical social situation.
The social training involved in these games is formal only
in the sense that the children are not engaged, as the
Montessori children often are, in a real social enterprise,
such as that of serving dinner, cleaning the room, caring
for animals, building a toy house, or making a garden. It
cannot be too strongly emphasized that even the most
conservative kindergarten does not, on principle, exclude
"real" enterprises of this latter sort; but in a three-hour
session it does rather little with them. Liberal kinder-
gartens do more, particularly in Europe, where the session
is often longer. Nor does the Montessori system wholly
exclude imaginative group games. But Dr. Montessori,
despite an evidently profound interest not only in social
training, but also in aesthetic, idealistic, and even religious
development, speaks of "games and foolish stories" in a
casual and derogatory way, which shows that she is as yet
unfamiliar with the American kindergartner's remarkable
skill and power in the use of these resources. (Of course
the American kindergartner does not use "foolish" stories ;
but stories she does use, and to good effect.) The Montes-
sori programme involves much direct social experience,
both in the general life of the school and in the manual
work done by the pupils; the kindergarten extends the
range of the child's social consciousness through the im-
agination. The groupings of the Montessori children are
largely free and unregulated; the groupings of kinder-
garten children are more often formal and prescribed.

xxiv USTTKODUCTION

On one point the Montessori system agrees with the con-
servative kindergarten, but not with the liberal: it pre-
pares directly for the mastery of the school arts. There can
be no doubt that Dr. Montessori has devised a peculiarly
successful scheme for teaching children to write, an effect-
ive method for the introduction of reading, and good
material for early number work. Both types of kinder-
garten increase, to be sure, the child's general capacity for
expression : kindergarten activity adds to his stock of ideas,
awakens and guides his imagination, increases his vocab-
ulary, and trains him in the effective use of it. Children
in a good kindergarten hear stories and tell them, recount
their own experiences, sing songs, and recite verses, all in
a company of friendly but fairly critical listeners, which
does even more to stimulate and guide expression than does
.the circle at home. But even the conservative kinder-
garten does not teach children to write and to read. It
does teach them a good deal about number; and it may
fairly be questioned whether it does not do more funda-
mental work in this field than the Montessori system itself.
The Froebelian gifts offer exceptional opportunity for con-
crete illustration of the conceptions of whole and part,
through the creation of wholes from parts, and the break-
ing up of wholes into parts. This aspect of number is at
least as important as the series aspect, which children get
in counting and for which the Montessori "Long Stair"
provides such good material. The Froebelian material
may be used very readily for counting, however, and the
Montessori material gives some slight opportunity for
uniting and dividing. So far as preparation for arith-
metic is concerned, a combination of the two bodies of
material is both feasible and desirable. The liberal
kindergarten, meanwhile, abandoning the use of the

INTKODUCTIOIsr xxv

gifts and occupations for mathematical purposes, makes
no attempt to prepare its pupils directly for the school
arts.

'Compared with the kindergarten, then, the Montessori
system presents these main points of interest : it carries out
far more radically the principle of unrestricted liberty ; its
materials are intended for the direct and formal training
of the senses ; it includes apparatus designed to aid in the
purely physical development of the children; its social
training is carried out mainly by means of present and
actual social activities; and it affords direct preparation
for the school arts.yxThe kindergarten, on the other hand,
involves a certain amount of group-teaching, in which
children are held — not necessarily by the enforcement of
authority, yet by authority, confessedly, when other means
fail — to definite activities; its materials are intended pri-
marily for creative use by the children and offer oppor-
tunity for mathematical analysis and the teaching of de-
sign ; and its procedure is rich in resources for the imagina-
tion. One thing should be made entirely clear and em-
phatic : in none of these characteristics are the two systems
rigidly antagonistic. Much kindergarten activity is free,
and the principle of prescription is not wholly given over
by the "Houses of Childhood" — witness their Rules and
Regulations; the kindergarten involves direct sense train-
ing, and the Montessori system admits some of the Froebel
blocks for building and design; there are many purely
muscular activities in the kindergarten, and some of the
usual kindergarten games are used by Montessori; the
kindergarten conducts some gardening, care of animals,
construction-work, and domestic business, and the Mon-
tessori system admits a few imaginative social plays ; both
systems (but not the liberal form of the kindergarten)

xxvi IlSrTKODUCTION

work directly toward the school arts. Since the difference
between the two programmes is one of arrangement, em-
phasis, and degree, there is no fundamental reason why a
combination especially adapted to English and American
schools cannot be worked out.

The broad contrast between a Montessori school and a
> kindergarten appears on actual observation to be this :
whereas the Montessori children spend almost all their
time handling things, largely according to their individual
inclination and under individual guidance, kindergarten
children are generally engaged in group work and games
with an imaginative background and appeal. A possible
principle of adjustment between the two systems might
be stated thus: work with objects designed for formal
sensory, motor, and intellectual training should be done
individually or in purely voluntary groups; imaginative
and social activity should be carried on in regulated groups.
This principle is suggested only as a possible basis for edu-
cation during the kindergarten age; for as children grow
older they must be taught in classes, and they naturally
learn how to carry out imaginative and social enterprises
in free groups, and the former often alone. Nor should it
be supposed that the principle is suggested as a rule to
which there can be no exception. It is suggested simply
as a general working hypothesis, the value of which must
be tested in experience. Although it has long been ob-
served by kindergartners themselves that group-work with
the Froebelian materials, especially such work as involves
geometrical analysis and formal design, soon tires the chil-
dren, it has been held that the kindergartner could safe-
guard her pupils from loss of interest or real fatigue by
watching carefully for the first signs of weariness and
stopping the work promptly on their appearance. For

INTRODUCTION xxvii

small groups of the older children, who can do work of this
sort with ease and enjoyment, no doubt the inevitable re-
straint of group teaching is a negligible factor, the
fatiguing effects of which any good kindergartner can fore-
stall. But for younger children a regime of complete free-
dom would seem to promise better results — at least so far
as work with objects is concerned. In games, on the other
hand, group teaching1 means very little restraint and the
whole process is less tiring any way. To differentiate in
method between these two kinds of activity may be the
best way to keep them both in an effective educational
programme.

To speak of an effective educational programme leads at
once, however, to an important aspect of the Montessori
system, quite aside from its relation to the kindergarten,
with which this Introduction must now deal. This is the
social aspect, which finds its explanation in Dr. Montes-
sori's own story of her first school. In any discussion of
the availability of the Montessori system in English and
American schools — particularly in American public schools
and English "Board" schools — two general conditions
under which Dr. Montessori did her early work in Rome
should be borne in mind. She had her pupils almost all
day long, practically controlling their lives in their waking
hours; and her pupils came for the most part from fam-
ilies of the laboring class. We cannot expect to achieve
the results Dr. Montessori has achieved if we have our
pupils under our guidance only two or three hours in the
morning, nor can we expect exactly similar results from
children whose heredity and experience make them at once
more sensitive, more active, and less amenable to suggestion
than hers. If we are to make practical application of the
Montessori scheme we must not neglect to consider the

xxviii INTRODUCTION

modifications of it which differing social conditions may
render necessary.

The conditions under which Dr. Montessori started her
original school in Rome do not, indeed, lack counterpart
in large cities the world over. When one reads her eloquent
"Inaugural Address" it is impossible not to wish that a
"School within the Home" might stand as a centre of
hopeful child life in the midst of every close-built city
block. Better, of course, if there were no hive-like city
tenements at all, and if every family could give to its own
children on its own premises enough of "happy play in
grassy places." Better if every mother and father were in
certain ways an expert in child psychology and hygiene.
But while so many unfortunate thousands still live in the
hateful cliff-dwellings of our modern cities, we must wel-
come Dr. Montessori's large conception of the social func-
tion of her "Houses of Childhood" as a new gospel for the
schools which serve the city poor. No matter what didactic
apparatus such schools may use, they should learn of Dr.
Montessori the need of longer hours, completer care of the
children, closer co-operation with the home, and larger aims.
In such schools, too, it is probable that the two funda-
mental features of Dr. Montessori's work — her principle of
liberty and her scheme for sense training — will find their
completest and most fruitful application.

It is just these fundamental features, however, which
will be most bitterly attacked whenever the social status of
the original Casa del Bambini is forgotten. Anthro-
pometric measurements, baths, training in personal self-
care, the serving of meals, gardening, and the care of
animals we may hear sweepingly recommended for all
schools, even for those with a three-hour session and a
socially favored class of pupils ; but the need for individual

INTKODUCTION xxix

liberty and for the training of the senses will be denied
even in the work of schools where the conditions correspond
closely to those at San Lorenzo. Of course no practical
educator will actually propose bathtubs for all schools, and
no doubt there will be plenty of wise conservatism about
transferring to a given school any function now well dis-
charged by the homes that support it. The problems raised
by the proposal to apply in all schools the Montessori con-
ception of discipline and the Montessori sense-training are
really more difficult to solve. Is individual liberty a uni-
versal educational principle, or a principle which must be
modified in the case of a school with no such social status
as that of the original "House of Childhood"? Do all
children need sense training, or only those of unfavorable
inheritance and home environment ? ~No serious discussion
of the Montessori system can avoid these questions. What
is said in answer to them here is written in the hope that
subsequent discussion may be somewhat influenced to keep
in view the really deciding factor in each case — the actual
situation in the school.

There is occasion enough in these questions, to be sure,
for philosophical and scientific argument. The first ques-
tion involves an ethical issue, the second a psychological
issue, and both may be followed through to purely meta-
physical issues. Dr. Montessori believes in liberty for the -j
pupil because she thinks of life "as a superb goddess, ever
advancing to new conquests." Submission, loyalty, self-
sacrifice seem to her, apparently, only incidental necessi-
ties of life, not essential elements of its eternal form.
There is obvious opportunity here for profound difference
">f philosophic theory and belief. She seems to hold, too,
that sense perception forms the sole basis for the mental
and hence for the moral life ; that "sense training will pre-

xxx INTRODUCTION

pare the ordered foundation upon which the child may
build up a clear and strong mentality/' including, appa-
rently, his moral ideals ; and that the cultivation of purpose
and of the imaginative and creative capacities of children
is far less important than the development of the power
to learn from the environment by means of the senses.
These views seem to agree rather closely with those of
Herbart and to some extent with those of Locke. Cer-
tainly they offer material for both psychological and ethi-
cal debate. Possibly, however, Dr. Montessori would not
accept the views here ascribed to her on the evidence of
this book; and in any case these are matters for the phi-
losopher and the psychologist. A pedagogical issue is never
wholly an issue of high principle.

Can it reasonably be maintained, then, that an actual
situation like that in the first "House of Childhood" at
Rome is the only situation in which the Montessori prin-
ciple of liberty can justifiably find full application ? Evi-
dently the Roman school is a true Republic of Childhood,
in which nothing need take precedence of the child's claim
to pursue an active purpose of his own. Social restraints
are here reduced to a minimum; the children must, to
be sure, subordinate individual caprice to the demands of
the common good, they are not allowed to quarrel or to
interfere with each other, and they have duties to perform
at stated times ; but each child is a citizen in a community
governed wholly in the interests of the equally privileged
members thereof, his liberty is rarely interfered with, he
is free to carry out his own purposes, and he has as much
influence in the affairs of the commonwealth as the average
member of an adult democracy. This situation is never
duplicated in the home, for a child is not only a member
of the family, whose interests are to be considered with

INTKODUCTION xxxi

the rest, but literally a subordinate member, whose inter-
ests must often be frankly set aside for those of an adult
member or for those of the household itself. Children
must come to dinner at dinner time, even if continued dig-
ging in the sand would be more to their liking or better for
their general development of muscle, mind, or will. It is /
possible, of course, to refine on the theory of the child's
membership in the family community and of the right of
elders to command, but practically it remains true that
the common conditions of family life prohibit any such
freedom as is exercised in a Montessori school. In the|__
same way a school of large enrollment that elects to cover
in a given time so much work that individual initiative
cannot be trusted to compass it, is forced to teach certain
things at nine o'clock and others at ten, and to teach in \
groups ; and the individual whose life is thus cabined and
confined must get what he can. For a given school the
obvious question is, Considering the work to be done in the
time allowed, can we give up the safeguards of a fixed
programme and group teaching ? The deeper question lies
here : Is the work to be done in itself so important that it
is worth while to have the children go through it under
compulsion or on interest induced by the teacher ? Or to
put it another way: May not the work be so much less
important than the child's freedom that we had better trust
to native curiosity and cleverly devised materials anyway
and run the risk of his losing part of the work, or even the
whole of it ?

For schools beyond the primary grade there will be no
doubt as to the answer to this question. There are many
ways in which school work may safely be kept from being
the deadening and depressing process it so often is, but
the giving up of all fixed and limited schedules and the

xxxii rKTTKODUCTION

prescriptions of class teaching is not one of them. Even
if complete liberty of individual action were possible in
schools of higher grade, it is not certain that it would be
desirable : for we must learn to take up many of our pur-
poses in life under social imperative. But with young
children the question becomes more difficult. What work
do we wish to make sure that each child does ? If our
schools can keep but half a day, is there time enough for
every child to cover this work without group teaching at
stated times ? Is the prescription and restraint involved
in such group teaching really enough to do the children
any harm or to make our teaching less effective ? Can
we not give up prescription altogether for parts of the
work and minimise it for others ? The general question
of individual liberty is thus reduced to a series of practical
problems of adjustment. It is no longer a question of
total liberty or no liberty at all, but a question of the prac-
tical mediation of these extremes. When we consider, fur-
thermore, that the teacher's skill and the attractiveness of
her personality, the alluring power of the didactic appa-
ratus and the ease with which it enables children to learn,
to say nothing of a cheerful and pleasant room and the
absence of set desks and seats, may all work together to
prevent scheduled teaching in groups from becoming in the
least an occasion for restraint, it is plain that in any given
school there may be ample justification for abating the
rigour of Dr. Montessori's principle of freedom. Every
school must work out its own solution of the problem in
the face of its particular conditions.

The adoption of sense-training would seem to be much
less a matter for variable decision. Some children may
need less than others, bftt for all children between the ages
of three and five the Montessori material will prove fas-

INTKODUCTION xxxiii

cinating as well as profitable. A good deal of modern
educational theory has been based on the belief that chil-
dren are interested only in what has social value, social
content, or "real use"; yet a day with any normal child
will give ample evidence of the delight that children take
in purely formal exercises. The sheer fascination of tuck-
ing cards under the edge of a rug will keep a baby happy
until any ordinary supply of cards is exhausted; and the
wholly sensory appeal of throwing stones into the water
gives satisfaction enough to absorb for a long time the
attention of older children — to say nothing of grown-ups.
The Montessori apparatus satisfies sense hunger when it is
keen for new material, and it has besides a puzzle-interest
which children eagerly respond to. Dr. Montessori sub-
ordinates the value of the concrete mental content her
material supplies to its value in rendering the senses more
acute; yet it is by no means certain that this content —
purely formal as it is — does not also give the material
much of its importance. Indeed, the refinement of sensory
discrimination may not in itself be particularly valuable.
What Professor G. M. Whipple says on this point in his
Manual of Mental and Physical Tests (p. 130) has much
weight :

The use of sensory tests in correlation work is particularly
interesting. In general, some writers are convinced that keen
discrimination is a prerequisite to keen intelligence, while others
are equally convinced that intelligence is essentially conditioned
by "higher" processes, and only remotely by sensory capacity —
barring, of course, such diminution of capacity as to interfere
seriously with the experiencing of sensations, as in partial deaf-
ness or partial loss of vision. While it is scarcely the place here
to discuss the evolutionary significance of discriminative sensitivity,
it may be pointed out that the normal capacity is many times in
excess of the actual demands of life, and that it is consequently diffi-
cult to understand why nature has been so prolific and generous; to

xxxiv INTRODUCTION

understand, in other words, what is the sanction for the seemingly
hypertrophied discriminative capacity of. the human sense organs.
The usual "teleological explanations" of our sensory life fail to
account for this discrepancy. Again, the very fact of the existence
of this surplus capacity seems to negative at the outset the notion
that sensory capacity can be a conditioning factor in intelligence —
with the qualification already noted.

It is quite possible that the real pedagogical value of
the Montessori apparatus is due to the fact that it .keeps
children happily engaged in the exercise of their senses
and their fingers when they crave such exercise most and
to the further fact that it teaches them without the least
strain a good deal about forms and materials. These values
are not likely to be much affected by differing school con-
ditions.

In the use of the material for sense-training, English
and American teachers may find profit in two general
warnings. First, it should not be supposed that sense
training alone will accomplish all that Dr. Montessori
accomplishes through the whole range of her school ac-
tivities. To fill up most of a morning with sense-training
is to give it (except perhaps in the case of the youngest
pupils) undue importance. It is not even certain that
the general use of the senses will be much affected by it,
to say nothing of the loss of opportunity for larger physical
and social activity. Second, the isolation of the senses
should be used with some care. To shut off sight is to take
one step toward sleep, and the requirement that a child
concentrate his attention, in this situation, on the sense
perceptions he gets by other means than vision must not
be maintained too long. No small strain is involved in
mental action without the usual means of information and
control.

The proposal, mentioned above, of a feasible combina-

INTKODUCTION xxxv ,9 ,,/

tion of the Montessori system and the kindergarten may
now be set forth. If it is put very briefly and without
defense or prophecy, it is because it is made without dog-
matism, simply in the hope that it will prove suggestive to $£ ^
some open-minded teacher who is willing to try out any
scheme that promises well for her pupils. The conditions
supposed are those of the ordinary American public-school
kindergarten, with a two-year programme beginning with
children three and a half or four years old, a kindergarten
with not too many pupils, with a competent kindergartner
and assistant kindergartner, and with some help from
training-school students.

The first proposal is for the use of the Montessori ma-
terial during the better part of the first year instead of
the regular Froebelian material. To the use of the Mon-
tessori devices — including the gymnastic apparatus — some
of the time now devoted to pictures and stories should also
be applied. It is not suggested that no Froebelian material
should be used, but that the two systems be woven into
each other, with a gradual transition from the free, indi-
vidual use of the Montessori objects to the same sort of use
of the large sizes of the Froebel gifts, especially the second,
third, and fourth. When the children seem to be ready
for it, a certain amount of more formal work with the
gifts should be begun. In the second year the Froebelian
gift work should predominate, without absolute exclusion
of the Montessori exercises. In the latter part of the
second year the Montessori exercises preparatory to writing
should be introduced. Throughout the second year the
full time for stories and picture work should be given to
them, and in both years the morning circle and the games
should be carried on as usual. The luncheon period
should of course remain the same. One part of Dr. Mon-

xxxvi INTRODUCTION

tessori's programme the kindergartner and her assistant
should use every effort to incorporate in their work — the
valuable training in self-help and independent action
afforded in the care of the materials and equipment by the
children themselves. This need not be confined to the
Montessori apparatus. Children who have been trained
to take out, use, and put away the Montessori objects
until they are ready for the far richer variety of
material in the Froebelian system, should be able to care
for it also. Of course if there are children who can return
in the afternoon, it would be very interesting to attempt
the gardening, which both Froebel and Montessori recom-
mend, and the Montessori vase-work.

For the possible scorn of those to whom all compromise
is distasteful, the author of this Introduction seeks but
one compensation — that any kindergartner who may hap-
pen to adopt his suggestion will let him study the
results.

As to the use of the Montessori system in the home, one
or two remarks must suffice. In the first place, parents
should not expect that the mere presence of the material
iu the nursery will be enough to work an educational
miracle. A Montessori directress does no common "teach-
ing," but she is called upon for very skillful and very
tiring effort. She must watch, assist, inspire, suggest,
guide, explain, correct, inhibit. She is supposed, in addi-
tion, to contribute by her work to the upbuilding of a new
science of pedagogy ; but her educational efforts — and edu-
cation is not an investigative and experimental effort, but
a practical and constructive one — are enough to exhaust
all her time, strength, and ingenuity. It will do no harm —
except perhaps to the material itself — to have the Mon-
tessori material at hand in the home, but it must be used

INTRODUCTION xxxvii

under proper guidance if it is to be educationally effective.
And besides, it must not be forgotten that the material is by
no means the most important feature of the Montessori pro-
gramme. The best use of the Montessori system in the
home will come through the reading of this book. If
parents shall learn from Dr. Montessori something of the
value of child life, of its need for activity, of its character-
istic modes of expression, and of its possibilities, and shall
apply this knowledge wisely, the work of the great Italian
educator will be successful enough.

This Introduction cannot close without some discussion,
however limited, of the important problems suggested by
the Montessori method of teaching children to write and
to read. We have in American schools admirable methods
for the teaching of reading ; by the Aldine method, for in-
stance, children of fair ability read without difficulty ten
or more readers in the first school year, and advance rap-
idly toward independent power. Our instruction in writing,
however, has never been particularly noteworthy. We have
been trying recently to teach children to write a flowing
hand by the "arm movement," without much formation
of separate letters by the fingers, and our results seem to
prove that the effort with children before the age of ten is
not worth while. Sensible school officers are content to let
children in the first four grades write largely by drawing
the letters, and there has been a fairly general conviction
that writing is not in any case especially important before
the age of eight or nine. In view of Dr. Montessori' s sue-
cess in teaching children of four and five to write with
ease and skill, must we not revise our estimate of the value
of writing and our procedure in teaching it? What
changes may we profitably introduce in our teaching of
reading ?

xxxviii INTRODUCTION

Here again our theory and our practice have suffered
from the headstrong advocacy of general principles. Be-
cause by clumsy methods children used to be kept at the
task of learning the school arts to the undoubted detriment
of their minds and bodies, certain writers have advocated
the total exclusion of reading and writing from the early
grades. Many parents refuse to send their children to
school until they are eight, preferring to let them "run
wild." This attitude is well justified by school conditions
in some places ; but where the schools are good, it ignores
not only the obvious advantages of school life quite aside
from instruction in written language, but also the almost
complete absence of strain afforded by modern methods.
Now that the Montessori system adds a new and prom-
ising method to our resources, it is the more unreasonable :
for as a fact normal children are eager to read and
write at six, and have plenty of use for these accom-
plishments.

This does not mean, however, that reading and writing
are so important for young children that they should be
unduly emphasised. If we can teach them without strain,
let us do so, and the more effectively the better; but let
us remember, as Dr. Montessori does, that reading and
writing should form but a subordinate part of the experi-
ence of a child and should minister in general to his other
needs. With the best of methods the value of reading and
writing before six is questionable. Our conscious life is
bookish enough as it is, and it would seem on general
grounds a safer policy to defer written language until the
age of normal interest in it, and even then not to devote
to it more time than an easy and gradual mastery
demands.

Of the technical advantages of the Montessori scheme

HSTTKODUCTION xxxix

for writing there can be little doubt. The child gains ready
control over his pencil through exercises which have their
own simple but absorbing interest ; and if he does not learn
to write with an "arm movement," we may be quite content
with his ability to draw a legible and handsome script.
Then he learns the letters — their forms, their names, and
how to make them — through exercises which have the very
important technical characteristic of involving a thorough
sensory analysis of the material to be mastered. Meumann
has taught us of late the great value in all memory work
of complete impression through prolonged and intensive
analytical study. In the teaching of spelling, for instance,
it is comparatively useless to devise schemes for remem-
bering unless the original impressions are made strong
and elaborate; and it is only by careful, varied, and de-
tailed sense impression that such material as the alphabet
can be thus impressed. So effective is the Montessori
scheme for impressing the letters — especially because of its
novel use of the sense of touch — that the children learn how
to make the whole alphabet before the abstract and formal
character of the material leads to any diminution of inter-
est or enthusiasm. Their initial curiosity over the char-
acters they see their elders use is enough to carry them
through.

In Italian the next step is easy. The letters once
learned, it is a simple matter to combine them into words,
for Italian spelling is so nearly phonetic that it presents
very little difficulty to any one who knows how to pro-
nounce. It is at just this point that the teaching of English *'
reading by the Montessori method will find its greatest
obstacle. Indeed, it is the unphonetic character of English
spelling that has largely influenced us to give up the alpha-
bet method of teaching children to read. Other reasons,

xl INTRODUCTION

to be sure, have also induced us to teach by the word and
the sentence method; but this one has been and will con-
tinue to be the deciding factor. We have found it more
effective to teach children whole words, sentences, or
rhymes by sight, adding to sense impressions the interest
aroused by a wide range of associations, and then analysing
the words thus acquired into their phonetic elements to
give the children independent power in the acquisition of
new words. Our marked success with this method makes
it by no means certain that it is "in the characteristic
process of natural development" for children to build up
written words from their elements — sounds and syllables.
It would seem, on the contrary, as James concluded, that
the mind works quite as naturally in the opposite direc-
tion— grasping wholes first, especially such as have a prac-
tical interest, and then working down to their formal ele-
ments. In the teaching of spelling, of course, the wholes
(words) are already known at sight — that is, the pupil
recognises them easily in reading — and the process aims
at impressing upon the child's mind the exact order of
their constituent elements. It is because reading and
spelling are in English such completely separate processes
that we can teach a child to read admirably without making
him a "good speller" and are forced to bring him to the
latter glorious state by new endeavours. We gain by this
separation both in reading and in spelling, as experience
and comparative tests — popular superstition to the con-
trary notwithstanding — have conclusively proved. The
mastery of the alphabet by the Montessori method will b©
of great assistance in teaching our children to write, but
of only incidental assistance in teaching them to read and
to spell.

Once more, then, this Introduction attempts to suggest

INTKODUCTION xli

a compromise. In the school arts the programme used to
such good effect in the Italian schools and the programme
which has been so well worked out in English and Ameri-
can schools may be profitably combined. We can learn
much about writing and reading from Dr. Montessori —
especially from the freedom her children have in the
process of learning to write and in the use of their newly
acquired power, as well as from her device for teaching
them to read connected prose. We can use her materials
for sense training and lead as she does to easy mastery
of the alphabetic symbols. Our own schemes for teaching
reading we can retain, and doubtless the phonetic analysis
they involve we shall find easier and more effective because
of our adoption of the Montessori scheme for teaching the
letters. The exact adjustment of the two methods is of
course a task for teachers in practice and for educational
leaders.

To all educators this book should prove most interesting.
Not many of them will expect that the Montessori method
will regenerate humanity. Not many will wish to see it —
or any method — produce a generation of prodigies such
as those who have been heralded recently in America. Not
many will approve the very early acquisition by children
of the arts of reading and writing. But all who are fair-
minded will admit the genius that shines from the pages
which follow, and the remarkable suggestiveness of Dr.
Montessori's labors. It is the task of the professional
student of education to-day to submit all systems to careful
comparative study, and since Dr. Montessori's inventive
power has sought its tests in practical experience rather
than in comparative investigation, this duller task remains
to be done. But however he may scrutinise the results
of her work, the educator who reads of it here will honour

xlii INTKODUCTION

in the Dottoressa Maria Montessori the enthusiasm, the
patience, and the constructive insight of the scientist and
the friend of humanity.

HENRY W. HOLMES.
HARVARD UNIVERSITY,

February 22, 1912.

THE MONTESSORI METHOD

CHAPTER I

A CRITICAL CONSIDERATION OF THE NEW PEDAGOGY IN
ITS RELATION TO MODERN SCIENCE

IT is not my intention to present a treatise on Scientific
Pedagogy. The modest design of these incomplete notes
is to give the results of an experiment that apparently
opens the way for putting into practice those new prin-
ciples of science which in these last years are tending to
revolutionise the work of education. .

Much has been said in the past decade concerning the
tendency of pedagogy, following in the footsteps of medi-
cine, to pass beyond the purely speculative stage and base
its conclusions on the positive results of experimentation.
Physiological or experimental psychology which, from
Weber and Fechner to Wundt, has become organised into
a new science, seems destined to furnish to the new peda-
gogy that fundamental preparation which the old-time
metaphysical psychology furnished to philosophical peda-
gogy. Morphological anthropology applied to the phys-
ical study of children, is also a strong element in the
growth of the new pedagogy.

But in spite of all these tendencies, Scientific Pedagogy
has never yet been definitely constructed nor defined. It
is something vague of which we speak, but which does not,

2 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

in reality, exist. We might say that it has been, up to
the present time, the mere intuition or suggestion of a
science which, by the aid of the positive and experimental
sciences that have renewed the thought of the nineteenth
century, must emerge from the mist and clouds that have
surrounded it. For man, who has formed a new world
through scientific progress, must himself be prepared and
developed through a new pedagogy. But I will not at-
tempt to speak of this more fully here.

Several years ago, a well-known physician established
in Italy a School of Scientific Pedagogy,, the object of
which was to prepare teachers to follow the new movement
which had begun to be felt in the pedagogical world.
This school had, for two or three years, a great success,
so great, indeed, that teachers from all over Italy flocked
to it, and it was endowed by the City of Milan with a
splendid equipment of scientific material. Indeed, its
beginnings were most propitious, and liberal help was af-
forded it in the hope that it might be possible to establish,
through the experiments carried on there, " the science of
forming man."

The enthusiasm which welcomed this school was, in a
large measure, due to the warm support given it by the dis-
tinguished anthropologist, Giuseppe Sergi, who for more
than thirty years had earnestly laboured to spread among
the teachers of Italy the principles of a new civilisation
based upon education. " To-day in the social world,"
said Sergi, " an imperative need makes itself felt — the
reconstruction of educational methods; and he who fights
for this cause, fights for human regeneration." In his
pedagogical writings collected in a volume under the title
of " Educazione ed Istruzione " (Pensieri),* he gives a

*Trevisini, 1892.

CEITICAL CONSIDERATION 3

resume of the lectures in which he encouraged this new
movement, and says that he believes the way to this de-
sired regeneration lies in a methodical study of the one
to be educated, carried on under the guidance of peda-
gogical anthropology and of experimental psychology.

" For several years I have done battle for an idea con-
cerning the instruction and education of man, which ap-
peared the more just and useful the more deeply I thought
upon it. My idea was that in order to establish natural,
rational methods, it was essential that we make nu-
merous, exact, and rational observations of man as an
individual, principally during infancy, which is the age
at which the foundations of education and culture must
be laid.

" To measure the head, the height, etc., does not in-
deed mean that we are establishing a system of peda-
gogy, but it indicates the road which we may follow to
arrive at such a system, since if we are to educate an in-
dividual, we must have a definite and direct knowledge
of him."

The authority of Sergi was enough to convince many
that, given such a knowledge of the individual, the art
of educating him would develop naturally. This, as often
happens, led to a confusion of ideas among his followers,
arising now from a too literal interpretation, now from an
exaggeration, of the master's ideas. The chief trouble
lay in confusing the experimental study of the pupil, with
his education. And since the one was the road leading
to the other, which should have grown from it naturally
and rationally, they straightway gave the name of Scien-
tific Pedagogy to what was in truth pedagogical anthro-
pology. These new converts carried as their banner, the
" Biographical Chart," believing that once this ensign

4 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

was firmly planted upon the battle-field of the school, the
victory would be won.

The so-called School of Scientific Pedagogy, therefore,
instructed the teachers in the taking of anthropometric
measurements, in the use of esthesiometric instruments,
in the gathering of Psychological Data — and the army
of new scientific teachers was formed.

It should be said that in this movement Italy showed
herself to be abreast of the times. In Erance, in Eng-
land, and especially in America, experiments have been
made in the elementary schools, based upon a study of an-
thropology and pyschological pedagogy, in the hope of find-
ing in anthropometry and psychometry, the regeneration of
the school. In these attempts it has rarely been the teach-
ers who have carried on the research ; the experiments have
been, in most cases, in the hands of physicians who have
taken more interest in their especial science than in edu-
cation. They have usually sought to get from their ex-
periments some contribution to psychology, or anthro-
pology, rather than to attempt to organise their work and
their results toward the formation of the long-sought
Scientific Pedagogy. To sum up the situation briefly,
anthropology and psychology have never devoted them-
selves to the question of educating children in the schools,
nor have the scientifically trained teachers ever measured
up to the standards of genuine scientists.

The truth is that the practical progress of the school
demands a genuine fusion of these modern tendencies, in
practice and thought ; such a fusion as shall bring scientists
directly into the important field of the school and at the
same time raise teachers from the inferior intellectual
level to which they are limited to-day. Toward this
eminently practical ideal the University School of Peda-

CRITICAL CONSIDERATION 5

gogy, founded in Italy by Credaro, is definitely working.
It is the intention of this school to raise Pedagogy from
the inferior position it has occupied as a secondary branch
of philosophy, to the dignity of a definite science, which
shall, as does Medicine, cover a broad and varied field of
comparative study.

And among the branches affiliated with it will most cer-
tainly be found Pedagogical Hygiene, Pedagogical An-
thropology, and Experimental Psychology.

Truly, Italy, the country of Lombroso, of De-Giovanni,
and of Sergi, may claim the honour of being pre-eminent
in the organisation of such a movement. In fact, these
three scientists may be called the founders of the new
tendency in Anthropology: the first leading the way in
criminal anthropology, the second in medical anthropol-
ogy, and the third in pedagogical anthropology. For
the good fortune of science, all three of them have been
the recognised leaders of their special lines of thought,
and have been so prominent in the scientific world that
they have not only made courageous and valuable dis-
ciples, but have also prepared the minds of the masses to
receive the scientific regeneration which they have en-
couraged. (For reference, see my treatise " Pedagogical
Anthropology.") *

Surely all this is something of which our country may
be justly proud.

To-day, however, those things which occupy us in the
field of education are the interests of humanity at large,
and of civilisation, and before such great forces we can
recognise only one country — the entire world. And in
a cause of such great importance, all those who have given

* Montessori : " L'Antropologia Pedagogica." Vallardi.

6 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

any contribution, even though it be only an attempt
not crowned with success, are worthy of the respect of
humanity throughout the civilised world. So, in Italy,
the schools of Scientific Pedagogy and the Anthropological
Laboratories, which have sprung up in the various cities
through the efforts of elementary teachers and scholarly
inspectors, and which have been abandoned almost be-
fore they became definitely organised, have nevertheless
a great value by reason of the faith which inspired them,
and because of the doors they have opened to thinking
people.

It is needless to say that such attempts were premature
and sprang from too slight a comprehension of new
sciences still in the process of development. Every great
cause is born from repeated failures and from imperfect
achievements. When St. Francis of Assisi saw his Lord
in a vision, and received from the Divine lips the com-
mand — " Francis, rebuild my Church ! " — he believed
that the Master spoke of the little church within which he
knelt at that moment. And he immediately set about
the task, carrying upon his shoulders the stones with which
'he meant to rebuild the fallen walls. It was not until
later that he became aware of the fact that his mission was
to renew the Catholic Church through the spirit of poverty.
Buit the St. Francis who so ingenuously carried the stones,
and the great reformer who so miraculously led the peo-
ple to a triumph of the spirit, are one and the same per-
son in different stages of development. So we, who work
toward one great end, are members of one and the same
body; and those who come after us will reach the goal
only because there were those who believed and laboured
before them. And, like St. Francis, we have believed that
by carrying the hard and barren stones of the experimental

CKITICAL CONSIDERATION 7

laboratory to the old and crumbling walls of the school,
we might rebuild it. We have looked upon the aids of-
fered by the materialistic and mechanical sciences with
the same hopefulness with which St. Francis looked upon
the squares of granite, which he must carry upon his
shoulders.

Thus we have been drawn into a false and narrow way,
from which we must free ourselves, if we are to establish
true and living methods for the training of future genera-
tions.

To prepare teachers in the method of the experimental
sciences is not an easy matter. When we shall have in-
structed them in anthropometry and psychometry in the
most minute manner possible, we shall have only created
machines, whose usefulness will be most doubtful. In-
deed, if it is after this fashion that we are to initiate our
teachers into experiment, we shall remain forever in the
field of theory. The teachers of the old school, prepared
according to the principles of metaphysical philosophy,
understood the ideas of certain men regarded as authori-
ties, and moved the muscles of speech in talking of them,
and the muscles of the eye in reading their theories. Our
scientific teachers, instead, are familiar with certain in-
struments and know how to move the muscles of the hand
and arm in order to use these instruments; besides this,
they have an intellectual preparation which consists of a
series of typical tests, which they have, in a barren and
mechanical way, learned how to apply.

The difference is not substantial, for profound dif-
ferences cannot exist in exterior technique alone, but lie
rather within the inner man. Not with all our initiation
into scientific experiment have we prepared new masters,

8 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

for, after all, we have left them standing without the
door of real experimental science; we have not admitted
them to the nohlest and most profound phase of such
study, — to that experience which makes real scientists.

And, indeed, what is a scientist? ISTot, certainly, he
who knows how to manipulate all the instruments in the
physical laboratory, or who in the laboratory of the
chemist handles the various reactives with deftness and
security, or who in biology knows how to make ready the
specimens for the microscope. Indeed, it is often the
case that an assistant has a greater dexterity in experi-
mental technique than the master scientist himself. We
give the name scientist to the type of man who has felt
experiment to be a means guiding him to search out the
deep truth of life, to lift a veil from its fascinating secrets,
and who, in this pursuit, has felt arising within him a
love for the mysteries of nature, so passionate as to an-
nihilate the thought of himself. The scientist is not the
clever manipulator of instruments, he is the worshipper of
nature and he bears the external symbols of his passion
as does the follower of some religious order. To this
body of real scientists belong those who, forgetting, like
the Trappists of the Middle Ages, the world about them,
live only in the laboratory, careless often in matters of
food and dress because they no longer think of themselves ;
those who, through years of unwearied use of the micro-
scope, become blind; those who in their scientific ardour
inoculate themselves with tuberculosis germs; those who
handle the excrement of cholera patients in their eager-
ness to learn the vehicle through which the diseases are
transmitted; and those who, knowing that a certain
chemical preparation may be an explosive, still persist
in testing their theories at the risk of their lives. This

CEITICAL CONSIDERATION 9

is the spirit of the men of science, to whom nature freely
reveals her secrets, crowning their labours with the glory
of discovery.

There exists, then, the " spirit " of the scientist, a thing
far above his mere " mechanical skill," and the scientist
is at the height of his achievement when the spirit has
triumphed over the mechanism. When he has reached
this point, science will receive from him not only new
revelations of nature, but philosophic syntheses of pure
thought.

It is my belief that the thing which we should culti-
vate in our teachers is more the spirit than the mechanical
skill of the scientist ; that is, the direction of the prepara-
tion should be toward the spirit rather than toward the
mechanism. For example, when we considered the scien-
tific preparation of teachers to be simply the acquiring of
the technique of science, we did not attempt to make these
elementary teachers perfect anthropologists, expert ex-
perimental psychologists, or masters of infant hygiene;
we wished only to direct them toward the field of experi-
mental science, teaching them to manage the various in-
struments with a certain degree of skill. So now, we wish
to direct the teacher, trying to awaken in him, in con-
nection with his own particular field, the school, that
scientific spirit which opens the door for him to broader
and bigger possibilities. In other words, we wish to
awaken in the mind &nd heart of the educator an interest
in natural phenomena to such an extent that, loving nature,
he shall understand the anxious and expectant attitude
of one who has prepared an experiment and who awaits
a revelation from it.*

* See in my treatise on Pedagogical Anthropology the chapter on
" The Method Used in Experimental Sciences."

10 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

The instruments are like the alphabet, and we must
know how to manage them if we are to read nature; but
as the book, which contains the revelation of the greatest
thoughts of an author, uses in the alphabet the means
of composing the external symbols or words, so nature,
through the mechanism of the experiment, gives us an
infinite series of revelations, unfolding for us her secrets.

Now one who has learned to spell mechanically all
the words in his spelling-book, would be able to read in the
same mechanical way the words in one of Shakespeare's
plays, provided the print were sufficiently clear. He who
is . initiated solely into the making of the bare experi-
ment, is like one who spells out the literal sense of the
words in the spelling-book; it is on such a level that we
leave the teachers if we limit their preparation to technique
alone.

We must, instead, make of them worshippers and inter-
preters of the spirit of nature. They must be like him who,
having learned to spell, finds himself, one day, able to read
behind the written symbols the thought of Shakespeare, or
Goethe, or Dante. As may be seen, the difference is great,
and the road long. Our first error was, however, a natural
one. The child who has mastered the spelling-book gives
the impression of knowing how to read. Indeed, he does
read the signs over the shop doors, the names of news-
papers, and every word that comes under his eyes. It
would be very natural if, entering a library, this child
should be deluded into thinking that he knew how to read
the sense of all the books he saw there. But attempting
to do this, he would soon feel that "to know how to read
mechanically " is nothing, and that he needs to go back
to school. So it is with the teachers whom we have

CEITICAL CONSIDEEATIOK 11

thought to prepare for scientific pedagogy by teaching
them anthropometry and psychometry.

But let us put aside the difficulty of preparing scientific
masters in the accepted sense of the word. We will not
even attempt to outline a programme of such preparation,
since this would lead us into a discussion which has no
place here. Let us suppose, instead, that we have al-
ready prepared teachers through long and patient exercises
for the observation of nature,, and that we have led them,
for example, to the point attained by those students of
natural sciences who rise at night and go into the woods
and fields that they may surprise the awakening and the.
early activities of some family of insects in which they are
interested. Here we have the scientist who, though he
may be sleepy and tired with walking, is full of watch-
fulness, who is not aware that he is muddy or dusty, that
the mist wets him, or the sun burns him; but is intent
only upon not revealing in the least degree his presence,
in order that the insects may, hour after hour, carry on
peacefully those natural functions which he wishes to
observe. Let us suppose these teachers to have reached the
standpoint of the scientist who, half blind, still watches
through his microscope the spontaneous movements of
some particular infusory animalcule. These creatures
seem to this scientific watcher, in their manner of avoid-
ing each other and in their way of selecting their food, to
possess a dim intelligence. He then disturbs this slug-
gish life by an electric stimulus, observing how some
group themselves about the positive pole, and others about
the negative. Experimenting further, with a luminous
stimulus, he notices how some run toward the light, while

12 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

others fly from it. He investigates these and like phe-
nomena; having always in mind this question: whether
the fleeing from or running to the stimulus be of the
same character as the avoidance of one another or the selec-
tion of food — that is, whether such differences are the
result of choice and are due to that dim consciousness,
rather than to physical attraction or repulsion similar to
that of the magnet. And let us suppose that this scientist,
finding it to be four o'clock in the afternoon, and that
he has not yet lunched, is conscious, with a feeling of
pleasure, of the fact that he has been at work in his labora-
tory instead of in his own home, where they would have
called him hours ago, interrupting his interesting observa-
tion, in order that he might eat.

Let us imagine, I say, that the teacher has arrived, in-
dependently of his scientific training, at such an attitude
of interest in the observation of natural phenomena.
Very well, but such a preparation is not enough. The
master, indeed, is destined in his particular mission not
to the observation of insects or of bacteria, but of man.
He is not to make a study of man in the manifestations
of his daily physical habits as one studies some family
of insects, following their movements from the hour of
their morning awakening. The master is to study man in
the awakening of his intellectual life.

The interest in humanity to which we wish to educate
the teacher must be characterised by the intimate rela-
tionship between the observer and the individual to be
observed; a relationship which does not exist between the
student of zoology or botany and that form of nature which
he studies. Man cannot love the insect or the chemical
reaction which he studies, without sacrificing a part of
himself. This self-sacrifice seems to one who looks at it

CRITICAL CONSIDEKATION 13

from the standpoint of the world, a veritable renunciation
of life itself, almost a martyrdom.

But the love of man for man is a far more tender thing,
and so simple that it is universal. To love in this way
is not the privilege of any especially prepared intellectual
class, but lies within the reach of all men.

To give an idea of this second form of preparation,
that of the spirit, let us try to enter into the minds and
hearts of those first followers of Christ Jesus as they
heard Him speak of a Kingdom not of this world, greater
far than any earthly kingdom, no matter how royally
conceived. In their simplicity they asked of Him,
" Master, tell us who shall be greatest in the Kingdom
of Heaven ? " To which Christ, caressing the head of a
little child who, with reverent, wondering eyes, looked into
His face, replied, " Whosoever shall become as one of
these little ones, he shall be greatest in the Kingdom of
Heaven." E"ow let us picture among those to whom
these words were spoken, an ardent, worshipping soul, who
takes them into his heart. With a mixture of respect
and love, of sacred curiosity and of a desire to achieve this
spiritual greatness, he sets himself to observe every mani-
festation of this little child. Even such an observer placed
in a classroom filled with little children will not be the-
new educator whom we wish to form. But let us seek
to implant in the soul the self-sacrificing spirit of the
scientist with the reverent love of the disciple of Christ,
and we shall have prepared the spirit of the teacher.
From the child itself he will learn how to perfect him-
self as an educator.

Let us consider the attitude of the teacher in the light
of another example. Picture to yourself one of our bota-

14 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

nists or zoologists experienced in the technique of observa-
tion and experimentation ; one who 'has travelled in order
to study " certain fungi " in their native environment.
This scientist has made his observations in open country
and, then, by the aid of his microscope and of all his
laboratory appliances, has carried on the later research
work in the most minute way possible. He is, in fact, a
scientist who understands what it is to study nature, and
who is conversant with all the means which modern experi-
mental science offers for this study.

Now let us imagine such a man appointed, by reason
of the original work he has done, to a chair of science
in some university, with the task before him of doing
further original research work with hymenoptera. Let
us suppose that, arrived at his post, he is shown a glass-
covered case containing a number of beautiful butterflies,
mounted by means of pins, their outspread wings motion-
less. The student will say that this is some child's play,
not material for scientific study, that these specimens in
the box are more fitly a part of the game which the little
boys play, chasing butterflies and catching them in a net.
With such material as this the experimental scientist can
do nothing.

The situation would be very much the same if we should
place a teacher who, according to our conception of the
term, is scientifically prepared, in one of the public schools
where the children are repressed in the spontaneous ex-
pression of their personality till they are almost like dead
beings. In such a school the children, like butterflies
mounted on pins, are fastened each to his place, the desk,
spreading the useless wings of barren and meaningless
knowledge which they have acquired.

CRITICAL CONSIDERATION 15

It is not enough, then, to prepare in our Masters the
scientific spirit. We must also make ready the school
for their observation. The school must permit the -free,
natural manifestations of the child if in the school scien-
tific pedagogy is to be born. This is the essential reform.

No one may affirm that such a principle already exists
in pedagogy and in the school. It is true that some peda-
gogues, led by Rousseau, have given voice to impracticable
principles and vague aspirations for the liberty of the
child, but the true concept of liberty is practically un-
known to educators. They often have the same concept
of liberty which animates a people in the hour of rebellion
from slavery, or perhaps, the conception of social liberty,
which although it is a more elevated idea is still invariably
restricted. " Social liberty " signifies always one more
round of Jacob's ladder. In other words it signifies a
partial liberation, the liberation of a country, of a class,
or of thought.

That concept of liberty which must inspire pedagogy is,
instead, universal. The biological sciences of the nine-
teenth century have shown it to us when they have offered
us the means for studying life. If, therefore, the old-time
pedagogy foresaw or vaguely expressed the principle of
studying the pupil before educating him, and of leaving
him free in his spontaneous manifestations, such an in-
tuition, indefinite and barely expressed, was made possible
of practical attainment only after the contribution of the
experimental sciences during the last century. This is
not a case for sophistry or discussion, it is enough that we
state our point. He who would say that the principle of
liberty informs the pedagogy of to-day, would make us
smile as at a child who, before the box of mounted butter-
flies, should insist that they were alive and could fly. The

16 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

principle of slavery still pervades pedagogy, and, there-
fore, the same principle pervades the school. I need only
give one proof — the stationary desks and chairs. Here
we have, for example, a striking evidence of the errors
of the early materialistic scientific pedagogy which, with
mistaken zeal and energy, carried the barren stones of
science to the rebuilding of the crumbling walls of the
school. The schools were at first furnished with the long,
narrow benches upon which the children were crowded
together. Then came science and perfected the bench.
In this work much attention was paid to the recent con-
tributions of anthropology. The age of the child and the
length of his limbs were considered in placing the seat
at the right height. The distance between the seat and
the desk was calculated with infinite care, in order that
the child's back should not become deformed, and, finally,
the seats were separated and the width so closely calculated
that the child could barely seat himself upon it, while
to stretch himself by making any lateral movements was
impossible. This was done in order that he might be
separated from his neighbour. These desks are con-
structed in such a way as to render the child visible in
all his immobility. One of the ends sought through this
separation is the prevention of immoral acts in the school-
room. What shall we say of such prudence in a state of
society where it would be considered scandalous to give
voice to principles of sex morality in education, for fear
we might thus contaminate innocence ? And, yet, here we
have science lending itself to this hypocrisy, fabricating
machines! Not only this; obliging science goes farther
still, perfecting the benches in such a way as to permit
to the greatest possible extent the immobility of the child,
or, if you wish, to repress every movement of the child.

CEITICAL CONSIDEEATIOIST 17

It is all so arranged that, when the child is well-fitted
into his place, the desk and chair themselves force him
to assume the position considered to be hygienically com-
fortable. The seat, the foot-rest, the desks are arranged in
such a way that the child can never stand at his work.
He is allotted only sufficient space for sitting in an erect
position. It is in such ways that schoolroom desks and
benches have advanced toward perfection. Every cult
of the so-called scientific pedagogy has designed a model
scientific desk. Not a few nations have become proud of
their " national desk," — and in the struggle of competi-
tion these various machines have been patented.

Undoubtedly there is much that is scientific underly-
ing the construction of these benches. Anthropology has
been drawn upon in the measuring of the body and the
diagnosis of the age ; physiology, in the study of muscular
movements; psychology, in regard to perversion of in-
stincts ; and, above all, hygiene, in the effort to prevent cur-
vature of the spine. These desks were indeed scientific,
following in their construction the anthropological study of
the child. We have here, as I have said, an example of
the literal application of science to the schools.

I believe that before very long we shall all be struck with
great surprise by this attitude. It will seem incompre-
hensible that the fundamental error of the desk should
not have been revealed earlier through the attention given
to the study of infant hygiene, anthropology, and soci-
ology, and through the general progress of thought. The
marvel is greater when we consider that during the past
years there has been stirring in almost every nation a
movement toward the protection of the child.

I believe that it will not be many years before the
public, scarcely believing the descriptions of these scien-

18 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

tific benches, will come to touch with wondering hands
the amazing seats that were constructed for the purpose of
preventing among our school children curvature of the
spine !

The development of these scientific benches means that
the pupils were subjected to a regime, which, even though
they were born strong and straight, made it possible for
them to become humpbacked ! The vertebral column,
biologically the most primitive, fundamental, and oldest
part of the skeleton, the most fixed portion of our body,
since the skeleton is the most solid portion of the organism
— the vertebral column, which resisted and was strong
through the desperate struggles of primitive man when he
fought against the desert-lion, when he conquered the
mammoth, when he quarried the solid rock and shaped the
iron to his uses, bends, and cannot resist, under the yoke
of the school.

It is incomprehensible that so-called science should have
worked to perfect an instrument of slavery in the school
without being enlightened by one ray from the movement
of social liberation, growing and developing throughout
the world. For the age of scientific benches was also the
age of the redemption of the working classes from the
yoke of unjust labor.

The tendency toward social liberty is most evident, and
manifests itself on every hand. The leaders of the people
make it their slogan, the labouring masses repeat the cry,
scientific and socialistic publications voice the same move-
ment, our journals are full of it. The underfed work-
man does not ask for a tonic, but for better economic con-
ditions which shall prevent malnutrition. The miner
who, through the stooping position maintained during
many hours of the day, is subject to inguinal rupture, does

CRITICAL CONSIDERATION" 19

not ask for an abdominal support, but demands shorter
hours and better working conditions, in order that he
may be able to lead a healthy life like other men.

And when, during this same social epoch, we find that
the children in our schoolrooms are working amid un-
hygienic conditions, so poorly adapted to normal develop-
ment that even the skeleton becomes deformed, our re-
sponse to this terrible revelation is an orthopedic bench.
It is much as if we offered to the miner the abdominal
brace, or arsenic to the underfed workman.

Some time ago a woman, believing me to be in sympathy
with all scientific innovations concerning the school,
showed me with evident satisfaction a corset or brace for
pupils. She had invented this and felt that it would com-
plete the work of the bench.

Surgery has still other means for the treatment of
spinal curvature. I might mention orthopedic instru-
ments, braces, and a method of periodically suspending
the child, by the head or shoulders, in such a fashion that
the weight of the body stretches and thus straightens the
vertebral column. In the school, the orthopedic instru-
ment in the shape of the desk is in great favour; to-day
someone proposes the brace — one step farther and it will
be suggested that we give the scholars a systematic course
in the suspension method!

All this is the logical consequence of a material applica-
tion of the methods of science to the decadent school.
Evidently the rational method of combating spinal curva-
ture in the pupils, is to change the form of their work
— so that they shall no longer be obliged to remain for
so many hours a day in a harmful position. It is a con-
quest of liberty which the school needs, not the mechanism
of a bench.

20 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

Even were the stationary seat helpful to the child's
body, it would still be a dangerous and unhygienic feature
of the environment, through the difficulty of cleaning the
room perfectly when the furniture cannot be moved. The
foot-rests, which cannot be removed, accumulate the dirt
carried in daily from the street by the many little feet.
To-day there is a general transformation in the matter
of house furnishings. They are made lighter and simpler
so that they may be easily moved, dusted, and even
washed. But the school seems blind to the transformation
of the social environment.

It behooves us to think of what may happen to the
spirit of the child who is condemned to grow in conditions
so artificial that his very bones may become deformed.
When we speak of the redemption of the workingman,
it is always understood that beneath the most apparent
form of suffering, such as poverty of the blood, or ruptures,
there exists that other wound from which the soul of the
man who is subjected to any form of slavery must suffer.
It is at this deeper wrong that we aim when we say that
the workman must be redeemed through liberty. We
know only too well that when a man's very blood has been
consumed or his intestines wasted away through his work,
his soul must have lain oppressed in darkness, rendered
insensible, or, it may be, killed within him. The moral
degradation of the slave is, above all things, the weight
that opposes the progress of humanity — humanity striving
to rise and held back by this great burden. The cry
of redemption speaks far more clearly for the souls of men
than for their bodies.

What shall we say then, when the question before us
is that of educating children?

CRITICAL CONSIDERATION 21

We know only too well the sorry spectacle of the teacher
who, in the ordinary schoolroom, must pour certain cut
and dried facts into the heads of the scholars. In order to
succeed in this barren task, she finds it necessary to
discipline her pupils into immobility and to force their
attention. Prizes and punishments are every-ready and ef-
ficient aids to the master who must force into a given atti-
tude of mind and body those who are condemned to be his
listeners.

It is true that to-day it is deemed expedient to abolish
official whippings and habitual blows, just as the awarding
of prizes has become less ceremonious. These partial re-
forms are another prop approved of by science, and offered
to the support of the decadent school. Such prizes and
punishments are, if I may be allowed the expression, the
bench of the soul, the instrument of slavery for the spirit.
Here, however, these are not applied to lessen deformities,
but to provoke them. The prize and the punishment are
incentives toward unnatural or forced effort, and, there-
fore we certainly cannot speak of the natural development
of the child in connection with them. The jockey offers
a piece of sugar to his horse before jumping into the
saddle, the coachman beats his horse that he may respond
to the signs given by the reins ; and, yet, neither of these
runs so superbly as the free horse of the plains.

And here, in the case of education, shall man place the
yoke upon man ?

True, we say that social man is natural man yoked to
society. But if we give a comprehensive glance to the
moral progress of society, we shall see that little by little,
the yoke is being made easier, in other words, we shall
see that nature, or life, moves gradually toward triumph.
The yoke of the slave yields to that of the servant,

22 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

and the yoke of the servant to that of the work-
man.

All forms of slavery tend little by little to weaken and
disappear, even the sexual slavery of woman. The his-
tory of civilisation is a history of conquest and of libera-
tion. We should ask in what stage of civilisation we find
ourselves and if, in truth, the good of prizes and of punish-
ments be necessary to our advancement. If we have in-
deed gone beyond this point, then to apply such a form
of education would be to draw the new generation back
to a lower level, not to lead them into their true heritage
of progress.

Something very like this condition of the school exists
in society, in the relation between the government and
the great numbers of the men employed in its administra-
tive departments. These clerks work day after day for
the general national good, yet they do not feel or see the
advantage of their work in any immediate reward. That
is, they do not realise that the state carries on its great
business through their daily tasks, and that the whole na-
tion is benefited by their work. For them the immediate
good is promotion, as passing to a higher class is for the
child in school. The man who loses sight of the really
big aim of his work is like a child who has been placed in
a class below his real standing : like a slave, he is cheated
of something which is his right. His dignity as a man
is reduced to the limits of the dignity of a machine which
must be oiled if it is to be kept going, because it does not
have within itself the impulse of life. All those petty
things such as the desire for decorations or medals, are
but artificial stimuli, lightening for the moment the dark,
barren path in which he treads.

In the same way we give prizes to school children. And

CKITICAL CONSIDEEATION 23

the fear of not achieving promotion, withholds the clerk
from running away, and binds him to his monotonous
work, even as the fear of not passing into the next class
drives the pupil to his book. The reproof of the superior
is in every way similar to the scolding of the teacher. The
correction of badly executed clerical work is equivalent to
the bad mark placed by the teacher upon the scholar's poor
composition. The parallel is almost perfect.

But if the administrative departments are not carried
on in a way which would seem suitable to a nation's great-
ness ; if corruption too easily finds a place ; it is the result
of having extinguished the true greatness of man in the
mind of the employee, and of having restricted his vision
to those petty, immediate facts, which he has come to look
upon as prizes and punishments. The country stands,
because the rectitude of the greater number of its em-
ployees is such that they resist the corruption of the prizes
and punishments, and follow an irresistible current of
honesty. Even as life in the social environment triumphs
against every cause of poverty and death, and proceeds to
new conquests, so the instinct of liberty conquers all ob-
stacles, going from victory to victory.

It is this personal and yet universal force of life, a
force often latent within the soul, that sends the world for-
ward.

But he who accomplishes a truly human work, he who
does something really great and victorious, is never spurred
to his task by those trifling attractions called by the name
of " prizes," nor by the fear of those petty ills which
we call " punishments." If in a war a great army of
giants should fight with no inspiration beyond the desire
to win promotion, epaulets, or medals, or through fear of

24 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

being shot, if these men were to oppose a handful of pyg-
mies who were inflamed by love 'of country, the victory
would go to the latter. When real heroism has died
within an army, prizes and punishments cannot do more
than finish the work of deterioration, bringing in corrup-
tion and cowardice.

All human victories, all human progress, stand upon the
inner force.

Thus a young student may become a great doctor if
he is spurred to his study by an interest which makes
medicine his real vocation. But if he works in the hope
of an inheritance, or of making a desirable marriage, or
if indeed he is inspired by any material advantage, he
will never become a true master or a great doctor, and
the world will never make one step forward because of his
work. He to whom such stimuli are necessary, had far
better never become a physician. Everyone has a special
tendency, a special vocation, modest, perhaps, but certainly
useful. The system of prizes may turn an individual
aside from this vocation, may make him choose a false
road, for him a vain one, and forced to follow it, the
natural activity of a human being may be warped, lessened,
,eyen annihilated.

We repeat always that the world progresses and that
we must urge men forward to obtain progress. But
progress comes from the new tilings that are born, and
these, not being foreseen, are not rewarded with prizes:
rather, they often carry the leader to martyrdom. God
forbid that poems should ever be born of the desire to
be crowned in the Capitol ! Such a vision need only come
into the heart of the poet and the muse will vanish. The
poem must spring from the soul of the poet, when he thinks
neither of himself nor of the prize. And if he does win

CKITICAL CONSIDEKATIOISr 25

the laurel, he will feel the vanity of such a prize. The
true reward lies in the revelation through the poem of his
own triumphant inner force.

There does exist, however, an external prize for man;
when, for example, the orator sees the faces of his listeners
change with the emotions he has awakened, he experiences
something so great that it can only be likened to the in-
tense joy with which one discovers that he is loved. Our'' . •
joy is to touch, and conquer souls, and this is the one prize
which can bring us a true compensation.

Sometimes there is given to us a moment when we fancy
ourselves to be among the great ones of the world. These
are moments of happiness given to man that he may con-
tinue his existence in peace. It may be through love at-
tained or because of the gift of a son, through a glorious
discovery or the publication of a book; in some such mo-
ment we feel that there exists no man who is above us.
If, in such a moment, someone vested with authority comes
forward to offer us a medal or a prize, he is the important
destroyer of our real reward — " And who are you ? " our
vanished illusion shall cry, " Who are you that recalls
me to the fact that I am not the first among men ? Who
stands so far above me that he may give me a prize ? "
The prize of such a man in such a moment can only be
Divine.

As for punishments, the soul of the normal man grows
perfect through expanding, and punishment as commonly
understood is always a form of repression. It may bring
results with those inferior natures who grow in evil, but
these are very few, and social progress is not affected by
them. The penal code threatens us with punishment if
we are dishonest within the limits indicated by the laws.
But we are not honest through fear of the laws; if we

26 THE M0NTESSOBI METHOD

do not rob, if we do not kill, it is .because we love peace,
because the natural trend of our lives leads us forward,
leading us ever farther and more definitely away from the
peril of low and evil acts.

Without going into the ethical or metaphysical aspects
of the question, we may safely affirm that the delinquent
before he transgresses the law, has, if he knows of the ex-
istence of a punishment, felt the threatening weight of
the criminal code upon him. He has defied it, or he has
been lured into the crime, deluding himself with the idea
that he would be able to avoid the punishment of the law.
But there has occurred within his mind, a struggle between
the crime and the punishment. Whether it be efficacious
in hindering crime or not, this penal code is undoubtedly
made for a very limited class of individuals; namely,
criminals. The enormous majority of citizens are honest
without any regard whatever to the threats of the law.

The real punishment of normal man is the loss of the
consciousness of that individual power and greatness
which are the sources of his inner life. Such a punish-
ment often falls upon men in the fullness of success. A
man whom we would consider crowned by happiness and
fortune may be suffering from this form of punishment.
Far too often man does not see the real punishment which
threatens him.

And it is just here tnat education may help.

To-day we hold the pupils in school, restricted by those
instruments so degrading to body and spirit, the desk —
and material prizes and punishments. Our aim in all this
is to reduce them to the discipline of immobility and
silence, — to lead them, — where? Ear too often toward
no definite end.

CKITICAL CONSIDEKATION 27

Often the education of children consists in pouring
into their intelligence the intellectual content of school
programmes. And often these programmes have been
compiled in the official department of education, and their
use is imposed by law upon the teacher and the child.

Ah, before such dense and wilful disregard of the life
which is growing within these children, we should hide our
heads in shame and cover our guilty faces with our hands !

Sergi says truly : " To-day an urgent need imposes it-
self upon society : the reconstruction of methods in educa-
tion and instruction, and he who fights for this cause,
fights for human regeneration."

CHAPTER II
HISTORY OF METHODS

IF we are to develop a system of scientific pedagogy, we
must, then, proceed along lines very different from those
which have been followed up to the present time. The
transformation of the school must be contemporaneous with
the preparation of the teacher. For if we make of the
teacher an observer, familiar with the experimental meth-
ods, then we must make it possible for her to observe and
to experiment in the school. The fundamental principle
of scientific pedagogy must be, indeed, the liberty of the
pupil; — such liberty as shall permit a development of in-
dividual, spontaneous manifestations of the child's nature.
If a new and scientific pedagogy is to arise from the study
of the individual, such study must occupy itself with the
observation of free children. In vain should we await
a practical renewing of pedagogical methods from me-
thodical examinations of pupils made under the guidance
offered to-day by pedagogy, anthropology, and experimental
psychology.

Every branch of experimental science has grown out
of the application of a method peculiar to itself. Bacteri-
ology owes its scientific content to the method of isolation
and culture of microbes. Criminal, medical, and peda-
gogical anthropology owe their progress to the application
of anthropological methods to individuals of various
classes, such as criminals, the insane, the sick of the clinics,

HISTOEY OF METHODS 29

scholars. So experimental psychology needs as its start-
ing point an exact definition of the technique to be used
in making the experiment.

To put it broadly, it is important to define the method,
the technique, and from its application to await the def-
inite result, which must be gathered entirely from actual
experience. One of the characteristics of experimental
sciences is to proceed to the making of an experiment with-
out preconceptions of any sort as to the final result of
the experiment itself. For example, should we wish to
make scientific observations concerning the development
of the head as related to varying degrees of intelligence,
one of the conditions of such an experiment would be to
ignore, in the taking of the measurements, which were
the most intelligent and which the most backward among
the scholars examined. And this because the precon-
ceived idea that the most intelligent should have the head
more fully developed will inevitably alter the results of
the research.

He who experiments must, while doing so, divest him-
self of every preconception. It is clear then that if we
wish to make use of a method of experimental psychology,
the first thing necessary is to renounce all former creeds
and to proceed by means of the method in the search for
truth.

We must not start, for example, from any dogmatic
ideas which we may happen to have held upon the sub-
ject of child psychology. Instead, we must proceed by
a method which shall tend to make possible to the child
complete liberty. This we must do if we are to draw
from the observation of his spontaneous manifestations
conclusions which shall lead to the establishment of a
truly scientific child psychology. It may be that such a

30 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

method holds for us great surprises, unexpected possi-
bilities.

Child psychology and pedagogy must establish their
content by successive conquests arrived at through the
method of experimentation.

Our problem then, is this : to establish the method pe-
culiar to experimental pedagogy. It cannot be that used
in other experimental sciences. It is true that scientific
pedagogy is rounded out by hygiene, anthropology, and
psychology, and adopts in part the technical method
characteristic of all three, although limiting itself to a
special study of the individual to be educated. But in
pedagogy this study of the individual, though it must ac-
company the very different work of education, is a limited
and secondary part of the science as a whole.

This present study deals in part with the method used
in experimental pedagogy, and is the result of my experi-
ences during two years in the " Children's Houses." I
offer only a beginning of the method, which I have applied
to children between the ages of three and six. But I
believe that these tentative experiments, because of the
surprising results which they have given, will be the means
of inspiring a continuation of the work thus undertaken.

Indeed, although our educational system, which experi-
ence has demonstrated to be excellent, is not yet entirely
completed, it nevertheless constitutes a system well enough
established to be practical in all institutions where young
children are cared for, and in the first elementary classes.

Perhaps I am not exact when I say that the present
work springs from two years of experience. I do not be-
lieve that these later attempts of mine could alone have
rendered possible all that I set forth in this book. The

HISTOKY OF METHODS 31

origin of the educational system in use in the " Children's
Houses " is much more remote, and if this experience with
normal children seems indeed rather brief, it should be
remembered that it sprang from preceding pedagogical
experiences with abnormal children, and that considered
in this way, it represents a long and thoughtful endeavour.

About fifteen years ago, being assistant doctor at the
Psychiatric Clinic of the University of Rome, I had oc-
casion to frequent the insane asylums to study the sick
and to select subjects for the clinics. In this way I be-
came interested in the idiot children who were at that
time housed in the general insane asylums. In those
days thyroid organotherapy was in full development, and
this drew the attention of physicians to deficient children.
I myself, having completed my regular hospital services,
had already turned my attention to the study of children's
diseases.

It was thus that, being interested in the idiot children,
I became conversant with the special method of educa-
tion devised for these unhappy little ones by Edward
Seguin, and was led to study thoroughly the idea, then
beginning to be prevalent among the physicians, of the
efficacy of " pedagogical treatment " for various morbid
forms of disease such as deafness, paralysis, idiocy, rickets,
etc. The fact that pedagogy must join with medicine in
the treatment of disease was the practical outcome of the
thought of the time. And because of this tendency the
method of treating disease by gymnastics became widely
popular. I, however, differed from my colleagues in that
I felt that mental deficiency presented chiefly a peda-
gogical, rather than mainly a medical, problem. Much
was said in the medical congresses of the medico-peda-
gogic method for the treatment and education of the feeble

32 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

minded, and I expressed my differing opinion in an ad-
dress on Moral Education at the Pedagogical Congress of
Turin in 1898. I believe that I touched a chord already
vibrant, because the idea, making its way among the phy-
sicians and elementary teachers, spread in a flash as pre-
senting a question of lively interest to the school.

In fact I was called upon by my master, Guido Bac-
celli, the great Minister of Education, to deliver to the
teachers of Rome a course of lectures on the education of
feeble-minded children. This course soon developed into
the State Orthophrenic School, which I directed for more
than two years.

In this school we had an all-day class of children com-
posed of those who in the elementary schools were con-
sidered hopelessly deficient. Later on, through the help
of a philanthropic organisation, there was founded a Medi-
cal Pedagogic Institute where, besides the children from
the public schools, we brought together all of the idiot
children from the insane asylums in Rome.

I spent these two years with the help of my colleagues
in preparing the teachers of Rome for a special method of
observation and education of feeble-minded children. Not
only did I train teachers, but what was much more im-
portant, after I had been in London and Paris for the
purpose of studying in a practical way the education of
deficients, I gave myself over completely to the actual
teaching of the children, directing at the same time the
work of the other teachers in our institute.

I was more than an elementary teacher, for I was pres-
ent, or directly taught the children, from eight in the
morning to seven in the evening without interruption.
These two years of practice are my first and indeed my
true degree in pedagogy. Erom the very beginning of

HISTOKY OF METHODS 33

my work with deficient children (1898 to 1900) I felt
that the methods which I used had in them nothing pe-
culiarly limited to the instruction of idiots. I believed
that they contained educational principles more rational
than those in use, so much more so, indeed, that through
their means an inferior mentality would be able to grow
and develop. This feeling, so deep as to be in the nature
of an intuition, became my controlling idea after I had
left the school for deficients, and, little by little, I became
convinced that similar methods applied to normal children
would develop or set free their personality in a marvellous
and surprising way.

It was then that I began a genuine and thorough study
of what is known as remedial pedagogy, and, then, wish-
ing to undertake the study of normal pedagogy and of
the principles upon which it is based, I registered as a
student of philosophy at the University. A great faith
animated me, and although I did not know that I should
ever be able to test the truth of my idea, I gave up every
other occupation to deepen and broaden its conception.
It was almost as if I prepared myself for an unknown
mission.

The methods for the education of deficients had their
origin at the time of the French Revolution in the work
of a physician whose achievements occupy a prominent
place in the history of medicine, as he was the founder of
that branch of medical science which to-day is known as
Otiatria (diseases of the ear).

He was the first to attempt a methodical education of
the sense of hearing. He made these experiments in the
institute for deaf mutes founded in Paris by Pereire, and
actually succeeded in making the semi-deaf hear clearly.
Later on, having in charge for eight years the idiot boy

34 THE MOOTESSORI METHOD

known as " the wild boy of Aveyron," lie extended to the
treatment of all the senses those educational methods which
had already given such excellent results in the treatment
of the sense of hearing. A student of Pinel, Itard was
the first educator to practise the observation of the pupil
in the way in which the sick are observed in the hospitals,
especially those suffering from diseases of the nervous
system.

The pedagogic writings of Itard are most interesting
and minute descriptions of educational efforts and ex-
periences, and anyone reading them to-day must admit that
they were practically the first attempts at experimental
psychology. But the merit of having completed a gen-
uine educational system for deficient children was due
to Edward Seguin, first a teacher and then a physician.
He took the experiences of Itard as his starting point,
applying these methods, modifying and completing them
during a period of ten years' experience with children
taken from the insane asylums and placed in a little school
in Eue Pigalle in Paris. This method was described for
the first time in a volume of more than six hundred pages,
published in Paris in 1846, with the title: " Traitement
Moral, Hygiene et Education des Idiots." Later Seguin
emigrated to the United States of America where he
founded many institutions for deficients, and where, after
another twenty years of experience, he published the
second edition of his method, under a very different title :
" Idiocy and its Treatment by the Physiological Method."
This volume was published in New York in 1866, and in
it Seguin had carefully defined his method of education,
calling it the physiological method. He no longer re-
ferred in the title to a method for the " education of
idiots " as if the method were special to them, but spoke

HISTORY OF METHODS 35

now of idiocy treated by a physiological method. If we
consider that pedagogy always had psychology as its base,
and that Wundt defines a " physiological psychology/'
the coincidence of these ideas must strike us, and lead
us to suspect in the physiological method some connec-
tion with physiological psychology.

While I was assistant at the Psychiatric Clinic, I had
read Edward Seguin's French book, with great interest.
But the English book which was published in New York
twenty years later, although it was quoted in the works
about special education by Bourneville, was not to be found
in any library. I made a vain quest for it, going from
house to house of nearly all the English physicians, who
were known to be specially interested in deficient children,
or who were superintendents of special schools. The fact
that this book was unknown in England, although it had
been published in the English language, made me think
that the Seguin system had never been understood. In
fact, although Seguin was constantly quoted in all the
publications dealing with institutions for deficients, the
educational applications described, were quite different
from the applications of Seguin' s system.

Almost everywhere the methods applied to deficients
are more or less the same as those in use for normal chil-
dren. In Germany, especially, a friend who had gone
there in order to help me in my researches, noticed that
although special materials existed here and there in the
pedagogical museums of the schools for deficients, these
materials were rarely used. Indeed, the German edu-
cators hold the principle that it is well to adapt to the
teaching of backward children, the same method used
for normal ones ; but these methods are much more objec-
tive in Germany than with us.

36 THE MOKTESSORI METHOD

At the Bicetre, where I spent some time, I saw that it
was the didactic apparatus of Seguin far more than his
method which was being used, although the French text
was in the hands of the educators. The teaching there
was purely mechanical, each teacher following the rules
according to the letter. I found, however, wherever I
went, in London as well as in Paris, a desire for fresh
counsel and for new experiences, since far too often
Seguin's claim that with his methods the education of
idiots was actually possible, had proved only a delusion.

After this study of the methods in use throughout
Europe I concluded my experiments upon the deficients of
Rome, and taught them throughout two years. I followed
Seguin's book, and also derived much help from the re-
markable experiments of Itard.

Guided by the work of these two men, I had manu-
factured a great variety of didactic material. These ma-
terials, which I have never seen complete in any institu-
tion, became in the hands of those who knew how to
apply them, a most remarkable and efficient means, but
unless rightly presented, they failed to attract the atten-
tion of the deficients.

I felt that I understood the discouragement of those
working with feeble-minded children, and could see why
they had, in so many cases, abandoned the method. The
prejudice that the educator must place himself on a level
with the one to be educated, sinks the teacher of deficients
into a species of apathy. He accepts the fact that he is
educating an inferior personality, and for that very rea-
son he does not succeed. Even so those who teach little
children too often have the idea that they are educating
babies and seek to place themselves on the child's level
by approaching him with games, and often with foolish

HISTOKY OF METHODS 37

stories. Instead of all this, we must know how to call
to the man which lies dormant within the soul of the
child. I felt this, intuitively, and believed that not the
didactic material, but my voice which called to them,
awakened the children, and encouraged them to use the
didactic material, and through it, to educate themselves.
I was guided in my work by the deep respect which I felt
for their misfortune, and by the love which these unhappy
children know how to awaken in those who are near
them.

Seguin, too, expressed himself in the same way on this
subject. Reading his patient attempts, I understand clearly
that the first didactic material used by him was spiritual.
Indeed, at the close of the French volume, the author, giv-
ing a resume of his work, concludes by saying rather sadly,
that all he has established will be lost or useless, if the
teachers are not prepared for their work. He holds rather
original views concerning the preparation of teachers of
deficients. He would have them good to look upon,
pleasant-voiced, careful in every detail of their personal
appearance, doing everything possible to make them-
selves attractive. They must, he says, render themselves
attractive in voice and manner, since it is their task to
awaken souls which are frail and weary, and to lead them
forth to lay hold upon the beauty and strength of life.

This belief that we must act upon the spirit, served
as a sort of secret key, opening to me the long series of
didactic experiments so wonderfully analysed by Edward
Seguin, — experiments which, properly understood, are
really most efficacious in the education of idiots. I my-
self obtained most surprising results through their ap-
plication, but I must confess that, while my efforts showed
themselves in the intellectual progress of my pupils, a

38 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

peculiar form of exhaustion prostrated me. It was as if
I gave to them some vital force from within me. Those
things which we call encouragement, comfort, love, re-
spect, are drawn from the soul of man, and the more freely
we give of them, the more do we renew and reinvigorate
tlie life about us.

Without such inspiration the most perfect external
stimulus may pass unobserved. J: Thus the blind Saul, be-
fore the glory of the sun, exclaimed, " This ? — It is the
dense fog ! "

Thus prepared, I was able to proceed to new experi-
ments on my own account. This is not the place for a
report of these experiments, and I will only note that at
this time I attempted an original method for the teaching
of reading and writing, a part of the education of the child
which was most imperfectly treated in the works of both
Itard and Seguin.

I succeeded in teaching a number of the idiots from the
asylums both to read and to write so well that I was
able to present them at a public school for an examination
together with normal children. And they passed the ex-
amination successfully.

These results seemed almost miraculous to those who saw
them. To me, however, the boys from the asylums had
been able to compete with the normal children only because
they had been taught in a different way. They had
been helped in their psychic development, and the nor-
mal children had, instead, been suffocated, held back. I
found myself thinking that if, some day, the special
education which had developed these idiot children in
such a marvellous fashion, could be applied to the de-
velopment of normal children, the " miracle " of which
my friends talked would no longer be possible. The abyss

HISTORY OF METHODS 39

between the inferior mentality of the idiot and that of the
normal brain can never be bridged if the normal child has
reached his full development.

While everyone was admiring the progress of my idiots,
I was searching for the reasons which could keep the happy
healthy children of the common schools on so low a plane
that they could be equalled in tests of intelligence by my
unfortunate pupils!

One day, a directress in the Institute for Deficients,
asked me to read one of the prophecies of Ezekiel which
had made a profound impression upon her, as it seemed
to prophesy the education of deficients.

" The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me
out in the spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the
midst of the valley which was full of bones.

" And caused me to pass by them round about : and,
behold, there were very many in the open valley ; and, lo,
they were very dry.

" And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones
live ? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest.

" Again he said unto me, Prophesy upon these bones,
and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the
Lord.

" Thus saith the Lord God unto these bones ; Behold,
I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live :

" And I will lay sinews upon you, and will bring up
flesh upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath
in you, and ye shall live; and ye shall know that I am
the Lord.

" So I prophesied as I was commanded : and as I
prophesied, there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and
the bones came together, bone to his bone.

" And when I beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came

40 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

up upon them, and the skin covered them above : but there
was no breath in them.

" Then said he unto me, Prophesy unto the wind,
prophesy, son of man, and say to the wind, Thus saith the
Lord God; Come from the four winds, O breath, and
breathe upon these slain, that they may live.

" So I prophesied as He commanded me, and the breath
came into them, and they lived, and stood up upon their
feet, an exceeding great army.

" Then he said unto me, Son of man, these bones are
the whole house of Israel : behold, they say, Our bones are
dried, and our hope is lost : we are cut off for our parts."

In fact, the words — " I will cause breath to enter into
you, and ye shall live," seem to me to refer to the direct
individual work of the master who encourages, calls to,
and helps his pupil, preparing him for education. And
the remainder — " I will lay sinews upon you, and will
bring up flesh upon you," recalled the fundamental phrase
which sums up Seguin's whole method, — " to lead the child,
as it were, by the hand, from the education of the
muscular system, to that of the nervous system, and of the
senses." It was thus that Seguin taught the idiots how
to walk, how to maintain their equilibrium in the most
difficult movements of the body — such as going up stairs,
jumping, etc., and finally, to feel, beginning the education
of the muscular sensations by touching, and reading the
difference of temperature, and ending with the education
of the particular senses.

But if the training goes no further than this, we have
only led these children to adapt themselves to a low order
of life (almost a vegetable existence). " Call to the
Spirit," says the prophecy, and the spirit shall enter into
them, and they shall have life. Seguin, indeed, led the

HISTOEY OF METHODS 41

idiot from the vegetative to the intellectual life, " from the
education of the senses to general notions, from general
notions to abstract thought, from abstract thought to mor-
ality." But when this wonderful work is accomplished,
and by means of a minute physiological analysis and of a
gradual progression in method, the idiot has become a man,
he is still an inferior in the midst of his fellow men, an
individual who will never be able fully to adapt himself
to the social environment : " Our bones are dried, and
our hope is lost ; we are cut off for our parts."

This gives us another reason why the tedious method of
Seguin was so often abandoned ; the tremendous difficulty
of the means, did not justify the end. Everyone felt this,
and many said, " There is still so much to be done for nor-
mal children ! "

Having through actual experience justified my faith in
Seguin's method, I withdrew from active work among
deficients, and began a more thorough study of the works
of Itard and Seguin. I felt the need of meditation. I
did a thing which I had not done before, and which per-
haps few students have been willing to do, — I translated
into Italian and copied out with my own hand, the writ-
ings of these men, from beginning to end, making for
myself books as the old Benedictines used to do before the
diffusion of printing.

I chose to do this by hand, in order that I might have
time to weigh the sense of each word, and to read, in truth,
the spirit of the author. I had just finished copying the
600 pages of Seguin's French volume when I received
from New York a copy of the English book published in
1866. This old volume had been found among the books
discarded from the private library of a New York physi-

42 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

cian. I translated it with the help of an English friend.
This volume did not add much in the way of new peda-
gogical experiments, but dealt with the philosophy of the
experiences described in the first volume. The man who
had studied abnormal children for thirty years expressed
the idea that the physiological method, which has as its
base the individual study of the pupil and which forms
its educative methods upon the analysis of physiological
and psychological phenomena, must come also to be applied
to normal children. This step, he believed, would show
the way to a complete human regeneration.

The voice of Seguin seemed to be like the voice of the
forerunner crying in the wilderness, and my thoughts were
filled with the immensity and importance of a work which
should be able to reform the school and education.

At this time I was registered at the University as a
student of philosophy, and followed the courses in experi-
mental psychology, which had only recently been estab-
lished in Italian universities, namely, at Turin, Rome and
Naples. At the same time I made researches in Pedagogic
Anthropology in the elementary schools, studying in this
way the methods in organisation used for the education of
normal children. This work led to the teaching of Peda-
gogic Anthropology in the University of Rome.

I had long wished to experiment with the methods for
deficients in a first elementary class of normal children,
but I had never thought of making use of the homes or
institutions where very young children were cared for. It
was pure chance that brought this new idea to my mind.

It was near the end of the year 1906, and I had just
returned from Milan, where I had been one of a committee
at the International Exhibition for the assignment of

HISTOEY OF METHODS 43

prizes in the subjects of Scientific Pedagogy and Experi-
mental Psychology. A great opportunity came to me, for
I was invited by Edoardo Talamo, the Director General
of the Roman Association for Good Building, to under-
take the organisation of infant schools in its model tene-
ments. It was Signor Talamo's happy idea to gather to-
gether in a large room all the little ones between the ages
of three and seven belonging to the families living in the
tenement. The play and work of these children was to be ^
carried on under the guidance of a teacher who should /
have her own apartment in the tenement house. It was
intended that every house should have its school, and as
the Association for Good Building already owned more
than 400 tenements in Rome the work seemed to offer
tremendous possibilities of development. The first school
was to be established in January, 1907, in a large tenement
house in the Quarter of San Lorenzo. In the same Quar-
ter the Association already owned fifty-eight buildings, and
according to Signor T alamo's plans we should soon be able
to open sixteen of these " schools within the house."

This new kind of school was christened by Signora Olga
Lodi, a mutual friend of Signor Talamo and myself, under
the fortunate title of Casa del Bambini or " The Chil-
dren's House." Under this name the first of our schools
was opened on the sixth of January, 1907, at 58 Via dei
Marsi. It was confided to the care of Candida Nuccitelli
and was under my guidance and direction.

From the very first I perceived, in all its immensity, the
social and pedagogical importance of such institutions, and
while at that time my visions of a triumphant future
seemed exaggerated, to-day many are beginning to under-
stand that what I saw before was indeed the truth.

On the seventh of April of the same year, 1907, a sec-

44 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

ond " Children's House " was opened in the Quarter of San
Lorenzo; and on the eighteenth of October, 1908, another
was inaugurated by the Humanitarian Society in Milan in
the Quarter inhabited by workingmen. The workshops
of this same society undertook the manufacture of the ma-
terials which we used.

On the fourth of November following, a third " Chil-
dren's House " was opened in Rome, this time not in the
people's Quarter, but in a modern building for the mid-
dle classes, situated in Via Famagosta, in that part of the
city known as the Prati di Castello ; and in January, 1909,
Italian Switzerland began to transform its orphan asylums
and children's homes in which the Froebel system had
been used, into " Children's Houses " adopting our meth-
ods and materials.

The " Children's House " has a twofold importance : the
social importance which it assumes through its peculiarity
of being a school within the house, and its purely peda-
gogic importance gained through its methods for the edu-
cation of very young children, of which I now made a
trial.

As I have said, Signor Talamo's invitation gave me a
wonderful opportunity for applying the methods used with
deficients to normal children, not of the elementary school
age, but of the age usual in infant asylums.

If a parallel between the deficient and the normal child
is possible, this will be during the period of early infancy
when the child who has not the force to develop and he
who is not yet developed are in some ways alike.

The very young child has not yet acquired a secure co-
ordination of muscular movements, and, therefore, walks
imperfectly, and is not able to perform the ordinary acts
of life, such as fastening and unfastening its garments.

HISTOEY OF METHODS 45

The sense organs, such as the power of accommodation of
the eye, are not yet completely developed ; the language is
primordial and shows those defects common to the speech
of the very young child. The difficulty of fixing the atten-
tion, the general instability, etc., are characteristics
which the normal infant and the deficient child have in
common. Preyer, also, in his psychological study of chil-
dren has turned aside to illustrate the parallel between
pathological linguistic defects, and those of normal chil-
dren in the process of developing.

Methods which made growth possible to the mental per-
sonality of the idiot ought, therefore, to aid the develop-
ment of young children,, and should be so adapted as to
constitute a hygienic education of the entire personality
of a normal human being. Many defects which become
permanent, such as speech defects, the child acquires
through being neglected during the most important period
of his age, the period between three and six, at which time
he forms and establishes his principal functions.

Here lies the significance of my pedagogical experiment
in the " Children's Houses." It represents the results of a
series of trials made by me, in the education of young chil-
dren, with methods already used with deficients. My
work has not been in any way an application, pure and
simple, of the methods of Seguin to young children, as
anyone who will consult the works of the author will read-
ily see. But it is none the less true that, underlying these
two years of trial, there is a basis of experiment which
goes back to the days of the French Revolution, and which
represents the earnest work of the lives of Itard and
Seguin.

As for me, thirty years after the publication of Seguin's
second book, I took up again the ideas and, I may even

46 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

say, the work of this great man, with the same freshness
of spirit with which he received the inheritance of the
work and ideas of his master Itard. For ten years I not
only made practical experiments according to their meth-
ods, but through reverent meditation absorbed the works
of these noble and consecrated men, who have left to hu-
manity most vital proof of their obscure heroism.

Thus my ten years of work may in a sense be considered
as a summing up of the forty years of work done by Itard
and Seguin. Viewed in this light, fifty years of active
work preceded and prepared for this apparently brief trial
of only two years, and I feel that I am not wrong in saying
that these experiments represent the successive work of
three physicians, who from Itard to me show in a greater
or less degree the first steps along the path of psychiatry.

As definite factors in the civilisation of the people, the
" Children's Houses " deserve a separate volume. They
have, in fact, solved so many of the social and pedagogic
problems in ways which have seemed to be Utopian, that
they are a part of that modern transformation of the home
which must most surely be realised before many years have
passed. In this way they touch directly the most im-
portant side of the social question — that which deals with
the intimate or home life of the people.

It is enough here to reproduce the inaugural discourse
delivered by me on the occasion of the opening of the sec-
ond " Children's House " in Rome, and to present the rules
and regulations * which I arranged in accordance with the
wishes of Signor Talamo.

It will be noticed that the club to which I refer, and the
dispensary which is also an out-patients' institution for
medical and surgical treatment (all such institutions be-
* See page 70.

HISTORY OF METHODS 49

ing free to the inhabitants) have already been establish^3"
In the modern tenement — Casa Moderna in the Prati di
Castello, opened November 4, 1908, through the philan-
thropy of Signor Talamo — they are also planning to
annex a " communal kitchen."

say

CHAPTEE III

INAUGUBAL ADDBESS DELIVEBED ON THE OCCASION OP
THE OPENING OF ONE OF THE " CHILDBEN'S HOUSES "

IT may be that the life lived by the very poor is a thing
which some of you here to-day have never actually looked
upon in all its degradation. You may have only felt the
misery of deep human poverty through the medium of
some great book, or some gifted actor may have made your
soul vibrate with its horror.

Let us suppose that in some such moment a voice should
cry to you, " Go look upon these homes of misery and black-
est poverty. For there have sprung up amid the terror
and the suffering, oases of happiness, of cleanliness, of
peace. The poor are to have an ideal house which shall
be their own. In Quarters where poverty and vice ruled,
a work of moral redemption is going on. The soul of the
people is being set free from the torpor of vice, from the
shadows of ignorance. The little children too have a
' House ' of their own. The new generation goes for-
ward to meet the new era, the time when misery shall no
longer be deplored but destroyed. They go to meet the
time when the dark dens of vice and wretchedness shall
have become things of the past, and when no trace of them
shall be found among the living." What a change of emo-
tions we should experience! and how we should hasten

INAUGURAL ADDRESS 49

here, as the wise men guided by a dream and a star has-
tened to Bethlehem !

I have spoken thus in order that you may understand
the great significance, the real beauty, of this humble room,
which seems like a bit of the house itself set apart by a
mother's hand for the use and happiness of the children
of the Quarter. This is the second " Children's House " *
which has been established within the ill-favoured Quarter
of San Lorenzo.

The Quarter of San Lorenzo is celebrated, for every
newspaper in the city is filled with almost daily accounts
of its wretched happenings. Yet there are many who are
not familiar with the origin of this portion of our city.

It was never intended to build up here a tenement dis-
trict for the people. And indeed San Lorenzo is not the
People's Quarter, it is the Quarter of the poor. It is the
Quarter where lives the underpaid, often unemployed
workingman, a common type in a city which has no factory
industries. It is the home of him who undergoes the
period of surveillance to which he is condemned after his
prison sentence is ended. They are all here, mingled, hud-
dled together.

The district of San Lorenzo sprang into being between
1884 and 1888 at the time of the great building fever.
No standards either social or hygienic guided these new
constructions. The aim in building was simply to cover
with walls square foot after square foot of ground. The
more space covered, the greater the gain of the interested
Banks and Companies. All this with a complete disre-
gard of the disastrous future which they were preparing.
It was natural that no one should concern himself with

* Dr. Montessori no longer directs the work in the Case dei Bam-
bini in the Quarter of San Lorenzo.

50 THE MONTESSOBI METHOD

the stability of the building he was creating, since in no
case would the property remain in the possession of him
who built it.

When the storm burst, in the shape of the inevitable
building panic of 1888 to 1890, these unfortunate houses
remained for a long time untenanted. Then, little by lit-
tle, the need of dwelling-places began to make itself felt,
and these great houses began to fill. Now, those specu-
lators who had been so unfortunate as to remain possessors
of these buildings could not, and did not wish to add fresh
capital to that already lost, so the houses constructed in
the first place in utter disregard of all laws of hygiene, and
rendered still worse by having been used as temporary habi-
tations, came to be occupied by the poorest class in the
city.

The apartments not being prepared for the working
class, were too large, consisting of five, six, or seven rooms.
These were rented at a price which, while exceedingly low
in relation to the size, was yet too high for any one family
of very poor people. This led to the evil of subletting.
The tenant who has taken a six room apartment at eight
dollars a month sublets rooms at one dollar and a half or
'two dollars a month to those who can pay so much, and a
corner of a room, or a corridor, to a poorer tenant, thus
making an income of fifteen dollars or more, over and
above the cost of his own rent.

This means that the problem of existence is in great part
solved for him, and that in every case he adds to his in-
come through usury. The one who holds the lease traffics
in the misery of his fellow tenants, lending small sums
at a rate which generally corresponds to twenty cents a

INAUGURAL ADDRESS 51

week for the loan of two dollars, equivalent to an annual
rate of 500 per cent.

Thus we have in the evil of subletting the most cruel
form of usury: that which only the poor know how to
practise upon the poor.

To this we must add the evils of crowded living, pro-
miscuousness, immorality, crime. Every little while the
newspapers uncover for us one of these interieurs: a large
family, growing hoys and girls, sleep in one room; while
one corner of the room is occupied hy an outsider, a woman
who receives the nightly visits of men. This is seen by
the girls and the boys ; evil passions are kindled that lead
to the crime and bloodshed which unveil for a brief instant
before our eyes, in some lurid paragraph, this little detail
of the mass of misery.

Whoever enters, for the first time, one of these apart-
ments is astonished and horrified. For this spectacle of
genuine misery is not at all like the garish scene he has
imagined. We enter here a world of shadows, and that
which strikes us first is the darkness which, even though
it be midday, makes it impossible to distinguish any of the
details of the room.

When the eye has grown accustomed to the gloom, we
perceive, within, the outlines of a bed upon which lies
huddled a figure — someone ill and suffering. If we have
come to bring money from some society for mutual aid, a
candle must be lighted before the sum can be counted and
the receipt signed. Oh, when we talk of social problems,
how often we speak vaguely, drawing upon our fancy for
details instead of preparing ourselves to judge intelligently
through a personal investigation of facts and conditions.

We discuss earnestly the question of home study for

52 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

school children, when for many of them home means a
straw pallet thrown down in the corner of some dark hovel.
We wish to establish circulating libraries that the poor
may read at home. We plan to send among these people
books which shall form their domestic literature — books
through whose influence they shall come to higher stand-
ards of living. We hope through the printed page to edu-
cate these poor people in matters of hygiene, of morality,
of culture, and in this we show ourselves profoundly ig-
norant of their most crying needs. For many of them
have no light by which to read !

There lies before the social crusader of the present day
a problem more profound than that of the intellectual ele-
vation of the poor ; the problem, indeed, of. life.

In speaking of the children born in these places, even
the conventional expressions must be changed, for they do
not " first see the light of day " ; they come into a world
of gloom. They grow among the poisonous shadows which
envelope over-crowded humanity. These children cannot
be other than filthy in body, since the water supply in an
apartment originally intended to be occupied by three or
four persons, when distributed among twenty or thirty is
scarcely enough for drinking purposes!

We Italians have elevated our word " casa " to the al-
most sacred significance of the English word " home," the
enclosed temple of domestic affection, accessible only to
dear ones.

Far removed from this conception is the condition of
the many who have no " casa," but only ghastly walls
within which the most intimate acts of life are exposed
upon the pillory. Here, there can be no privacy, no mod-
esty, no gentleness ; here, there is often not even light, nor
air, nor water! It seems a cruel mockery to introduce

INAUGUKAL ADDRESS 53

here our idea of the home as essential to the education of
the masses, and as furnishing, along with the family, the
only solid basis for the social structure. In doing this we
would be not practical reformers but visionary poets.

Conditions such as I have described make it more de-
corous, more hygienic, for these people to take refuge in
the street and to let their children live there. But how
often these streets are the scene of bloodshed, of quarrel,
of sights so vile as to be almost inconceivable. The pa-
pers tell us of women pursued and killed by drunken hus-
bands ! Of young girls with the fear of worse than death,
stoned by low men. Again, we see untellable things — a
wretched woman thrown, by the drunken men who have
preyed upon her, forth into the gutter. There, when day
has come, the children of the neighbourhood crowd about
her like scavengers about their dead prey, shouting and
laughing at the sight of this wreck of womanhood, kicking
her bruised and filthy body as it lies in the mud of the
gutter !

Such spectacles of extreme brutality are possible here
at the very gate of a cosmopolitan city, the mother of
civilisation and queen of the fine arts, because of a new
fact which was unknown to past centuries, namely, the
isolation of the masses of the poor.

In the Middle Ages, leprosy was isolated : the Catholics
isolated the Hebrews in the Ghetto ; but poverty was never
considered a peril and an infamy so great that it must be
isolated. The homes of the poor were scattered among
those of the rich and the contrast between these was a
commonplace in literature up to our own times. Indeed,
when I was a child in school, teachers, for the purpose of
moral education, frequently resorted to the illustration of
the kind princess who sends help to the poor cottage next

54 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

door, or of the good children from the great house who
carry food to the sick woman in the neighbouring attic.

To-day all this would he as unreal and artificial as a
fairy tale. The poor may no longer learn from their more
fortunate neighbours lessons in courtesy and good breed-
ing, they no longer have the hope of help from them in
cases of extreme need. We have herded them together far
from us, without the walls, leaving them to learn of each
other, in the abandon of desperation, the cruel lessons of
brutality and vice. Anyone in whom the social conscience
is awake must see that we have thus created infected re-
gions that threaten with deadly peril the city which, wish-
ing to make all beautiful and shining according to an
aesthetic and aristocratic ideal, has thrust without its walls
whatever is ugly or diseased.

When I passed for the first time through these streets,
it was as if I found myself in a city upon which some
great disaster had fallen. It seemed to me that the shadow
of some recent struggle still oppressed the unhappy people
who, with something very like terror in their pale faces,
passed me in these silent streets. The very silence seemed
to signify the life of a community interrupted, broken.
Not a carriage, not even the cheerful voice of the ever-
present street vender, nor the sound of the hand-organ
playing in the hope of a few pennies, not even these things,
so characteristic of poor quarters, enter here to lighten this
sad and heavy silence.

Observing these streets with their deep holes, the door-
steps broken and tumbling, we might almost suppose that
this disaster had been in the nature of a great inundation
which had carried the very earth away ; but looking about
us at the houses stripped of all decorations, the walls
broken and scarred, we are inclined to think that it was

INAUGURAL ADDEESS 55

perhaps an earthquake which has afflicted this quarter.
Then, looking still more closely, we see that in all this
thickly settled neighbourhood there is not a shop to be
found. So poor is the community that it has not been
possible to establish even one of those popular bazars where
necessary articles are sold at so low a price as to put them
within the reach of anyone. The only shops of any sort
are the low wine shops which open their evil-smelling doors
to the passer-by. As we look upon all this, it is borne upon
us that the disaster which has placed its weight of suffer-
ing upon these people is not a convulsion of nature,
but poverty — poverty with its inseparable companion,
vice.

This unhappy and dangerous state of things, to which
our attention is called at intervals by newspaper accounts
of violent and immoral crime, stirs the hearts and con-
sciences of many who come to undertake among these peo-
ple some work of generous benevolence. One might almost
say that every form of misery inspires a special remedy
and that all have been tried here, from the attempt to intro-
duce hygienic principles into each house, to the establish-
ment of creches, " Children's Houses," and dispensaries.

But what indeed is benevolence? Little more than an
expression of sorrow; it is pity translated into action.
The benefits of such a form of charity cannot be great, and
through the absence of any continued income and the lack
of organisation it is restricted to a small number of per-
sons. The great and widespread peril of evil demands,
on the other hand, a broad and comprehensive work di-
rected toward the redemption of the entire community.
Only such an organisation, as, working for the good of
others, shall itself grow and prosper through the general
prosperity which it has made possible, can make a place

56 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

for itself in this quarter and accomplish a permanent good
work.

It is to meet this dire necessity that the great and kindly
work of the Roman Association of Good Building has been
undertaken. The advanced and highly modern way in
which this work is being carried on is due to Edoardo Ta-
lamo, Director General of the Association. His plans, so
original, so comprehensive, yet so practical, are without
counterpart in Italy or elsewhere.

This Association was incorporated three years ago in
Rome, its plan being to acquire city tenements, remodel
them, put them into a productive condition, and administer
them as a good father of a family would.

The first property acquired comprised a large portion of
the Quarter of San Lorenzo, where to-day the Association
possesses fifty-eight houses, occupying a ground space of
about 30,000 square metres, and containing, independent
of the ground floor, 1,600 small apartments. Thousands
of people will in this way receive the beneficent influence
of the protective reforms of the Good Building Associa-
tion. Following its beneficent programme, the Association
set about transforming these old houses, according to the
most modern standards, paying as much attention to ques-
tions related to hygiene and morals as to those relating to
buildings. The constructional changes would make the
property of real and lasting value, while the hygienic and
moral transformation would, through the improved con-
dition of the inmates, make the rent from these apartments
a more definite asset.

The Association of Good Building therefore decided
upon a programme which would permit of a gradual attain-
ment of their ideal. It is necessary to proceed slowly be-
cause it is not easy to empty a tenement house at a time

INAUGUKAL ADDKESS 5T

when houses are scarce, and the humanitarian principles
which govern the entire movement make it impossible to
proceed more rapidly in this work of regeneration. So it
is, that the Association has up to the present time trans-
formed only three houses in the Quarter of San Lorenzo.
The plan followed in this transformation is as follows :

A: To demolish in every building all portions of the
structure not originally constructed with the idea of mak-
ing homes, but, from a purely commercial standpoint, of
making the rental roll larger. In other words, the new
management tore down those parts of the building which
encumbered the central court, thus doing away with dark,
ill-ventilated apartments, and giving air and light to the
remaining portion of the tenement. Broad airy courts
take the place of the inadequate air and light shafts, render-
ing the remaining apartments more valuable and infinitely
more desirable.

B : To increase the number of stairways, and to divide
the room space in a more practical way. The large six or
seven room suites are reduced to small apartments of one,
two, or three rooms, and a kitchen.

The importance of such changes may be recognised from
the economic point of view of the proprietor as well as
from the standpoint of the moral and material welfare of
the tenant. Increasing the number of stairways dimin-
ishes that abuse of walls and stairs inevitable where so
many persons must pass up and down. The tenants more
readily learn to respect the building and acquire habits
of cleanliness and order. Not only this, but in reducing
the chances of contact among the inhabitants of the house,
especially late at night, a great advance has been made in
the matter of moral hygiene.

The division of the house into small apartments has done

58 THE MONTESSOBI METHOD

much toward this moral regeneration. Each family is
thus set apart, homes are made possible, while the menacing
evil of subletting together with all its disastrous conse-
quences of overcrowding and immorality is checked in the
most radical way.

On one side this arrangement lessens the burden of the
individual lease holders, and on the other increases the
income of the proprietor, who now receives those earnings
which were the unlawful gain of the system of sublet-
ting. When the proprietor who originally rented an apart-
ment of six rooms for a monthly rental of eight dollars,
makes such an apartment over into three small, sunny,
and airy suites consisting of one room and a kitchen, it is
evident that he increases his income.

The moral importance of this reform as it stands to-day
is tremendous, for it has done away with those evil in-
fluences and low opportunities which arise from crowd-
ing and from promiscuous contact, and has brought to life
among these people, for the first time, the gentle sentiment
of feeling themselves free within their own homes, in the
intimacy of the family.

But the project of the Association goes beyond even this.
The house which it offers to its tenants is not only sunny
and airy, but in perfect order and repair, almost shining,
and as if perfumed with purity and freshness. These good
things, however, carry with them a responsibility which
the tenant must assume if he wishes to enjoy them. He
must pay an actual tax of care and good will. The tenant
who receives a clean house must keep it so, must respect
the walls from the big general entrance to the interior of
his own little apartment. He who keeps his house in good
condition receives the recognition and consideration due
suck a tenant. Thus all the tenants unite in an ennobling

INAUGURAL ADDRESS 59

warfare for practical hygiene, an end made possible by the
simple task of conserving the already perfect conditions.

Here indeed is something new ! So far only our great
national buildings have had a continued maintenance fund.
Here, in these houses offered to the people, the maintenance
is confided to a hundred or so workingmen, that is, to all
the occupants of the building. This care is almost per-
fect. The people keep the house in perfect condition,
without a single spot. The building in which we find
ourselves to-day has been for two years under the sole pro-
tection of the tenants, and the work of maintenance has
been left entirely to them. Yet few of our houses can
compare in cleanliness and freshness with this home of the
poor.

The experiment has been tried and the result is remarka-
ble. The people acquire together with the love of home-
making, that of cleanliness. They come, moreover, to wish
to beautify their homes. The Association helps this by
placing growing plants and trees in the courts and about
the halls.

Out of this honest rivalry in matters so productive of
good, grows a species of pride new to this quarter ; this is
the pride which the entire body of tenants takes in having
the best-cared-for building and in having risen to a higher
and more civilised plane of living. They not only live in
a house, but they Icnow how to live, they know how to re-
spect the house in which they live.

This first impulse has led to other reforms. From the
clean home will come personal cleanliness. Dirty furni-
ture cannot be tolerated in a clean house, and those persons
living in a permanently clean house will come to desire
personal cleanliness.

One of the most important hygienic reforms of the As-

60 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

sociation is that of the baths. Each remodeled tenement
has a place set apart for bathrooms, furnished with tubs
or shower, and having hot and cold water. All the tenants
in regular turn may use these baths, as, for example, in
various tenements the occupants go according to turn, to
wash their clothes in the fountain in the court. This is a
great convenience which invites the people to be clean.
These hot and cold baths within the house are a great im-
provement upon the general public baths. In this way
we make possible to these people, at one and the same time,
health and refinement, opening not only to the sun, but to
progress, those dark habitations once the vile caves of
misery.

But in striving to realise its ideal of a semi-gratuitous
maintenance of its buildings, the Association met with a
difficulty in regard to those children under school age, who
must often be left alone during the entire day while their
parents went out to work. These little ones, not being
able to understand the educative motives which taught their
parents to respect the house, became ignorant little vandals,
defacing the walls and stairs. And here we have another
reform the expense of which may be considered as indi-
rectly assumed by the tenants as was the care of the build-
ing. This reform may be considered as the most brilliant
transformation of a tax which progress and civilisation
have as yet devised. The " Children's House " is earned
by the parents through the care of the building. Its ex-
penses are met by the sum that the Association would have
otherwise been forced to spend upon repairs. A wonderful
climax, this, of moral benefits received ! Within the " Chil-
dren's House," which belongs exclusively to those chil-
dren under school age, working mothers may safely leave
their little ones, and may proceed with a feeling of great

INAUGURAL ADDRESS 61

relief and freedom to their own work. But this benefit,
like that of the care of the house, is not conferred without
a tax of care and of good will. *The Regulations posted
on the walls announce it thus :

" The mothers are obliged to send their children to the
' Children's House ' clean, and to co-operate with the Di-
rectress in the educational work."

Two obligations: namely, the physical and moral care
of their own children. If the child shows through its
conversation that the educational work of the school is
being undermined by the attitude taken in his home, he
will be sent back to his parents, to teach them thus how
to take advantage of their good opportunities. Those who
give themselves over to low-living, to fighting, and to bru-
tality, shall feel upon them the weight of those little lives,
so needing care. They shall feel that they themselves
have once more cast into the darkness of neglect those little
creatures who are the dearest part of the family. In other
words, the parents must learn to deserve the benefit of
having within the house the great advantage of a school for
their little ones.

" Good will," a willingness to meet the demands of the
Association is enough, for the directress is ready and will-
ing to teach them how. The regulations say that the
mother must go at least once a week, to confer with the
directress, giving an account of her child, and accepting
any helpful advice which the directress may be able to
give. The advice thus given will undoubtedly prove most
illuminating in regard to the child's health and education,
since to each of the " Children's Houses " is assigned a
physician as well as a directress.

The directress is always at the disposition of the

* See page 70.

62 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

mothers, and her life, as a cultured and educated person,
is a constant example to the inhabitants of the house, for
she is obliged to live in the tenement and to be therefore
a co-habitant with the families of all her little pupils.
This is a fact of immense importance. Among these al-
most savage people, into these houses where at night no
one dared go about unarmed, there has come not only to
teach, but to live the very life they live, a gentlewoman of
culture, an educator by profession, who dedicates her time
and her life to helping those about her ! A true mission-
ary, a moral queen among the people, she may, if she be
possessed of sufficient tact and heart, reap an unheard-of
harvest of good from her social work.

This house is verily new; it would seem a dream impos-
sible of realisation, but it has been tried. It is true that
there have been before this attempts made by generous
persons to go and live among the poor to civilise them.
But such work is not practical, unless the house of the
poor is hygienic, making it possible for people of better
standards to live there. Nor can such work succeed in its
purpose unless some common advantage or interest unites
all of the tenants in an effort toward better things.

This tenement is new also because of the pedagogical
organisation of the " Children's House." This is not sim-
ply a place where the children are kept, not just an asylum,
but a true school for their education, and its methods
are inspired by the rational principles of scientific ped-
agogy.

The physical development of the children is followed,
each child being studied from the anthropological stand-
point. Linguistic exercises, a systematic sense-training,
and exercises which directly fit the child for the duties of
practical life, form the basis of the work done. The teach-

INAUGURAL ADDRESS 63

ing is decidedly objective, and presents an unusual richness
of didactic material.

It is not possible to speak of all this in detail. I must,
however, mention that there already exists in connection
with the school a bathroom, where the children may be
given hot or cold baths and where they may learn to take a
partial bath, hands, face, neck, ears. Wherever possible
the Association has provided a piece of ground in which
the children may learn to cultivate the vegetables in com-
mon use.

It is important that I speak here of the pedagogical
progress attained by the " Children's House " as an insti-
tution. Those who are conversant with the chief problems
of the school know that to-day much attention is given to a
great principle, one that is ideal and almost beyond realisa-
tion,— the union of the family and the school in the matter
of educational aims. But the family is always something
far away from the school, and is almost always regarded
as rebelling against its ideals. It is a species of phantom
upon which the school can never lay its hands. The home
is closed not only to pedagogical progress, but often to
social progress. We see here for the first time the possi-
bility of realising the long-talked-of pedagogical ideal.
We have put the school within the house; and this is not
all. We have placed it within the house as the property
of the collectivity, leaving under the eyes of the parents the
whole life of the teacher in the accomplishment of her high
mission.

This idea of the collective ownership of the school is new
and very beautiful and profoundly educational.

The parents know that the " Children's House " is their
property, and is maintained by a portion of the rent they
pay. The mothers may go at any hour of the day to watch.

64 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

to admire, or to meditate upon the life there. It is in every
way a continual stimulus to reflection, and a fount of evi-
dent blessing and help to their own children. We may say
that the mothers adore the " Children's House," and the di-
rectress. How many delicate and thoughtful attentions
these good mothers show the teacher of their little ones!
They often leave sweets or flowers upon the sill of the
schoolroom window, as a silent token, reverently, almost
religiously, given.

And when after three years of such a novitiate, the
mothers send their children to the common schools, they
will be excellently prepared to co-operate in the work of
education, and will have acquired a sentiment, rarely found
even among the best classes; namely, the idea that they
must merit through their own conduct and ^with their own
virtue, the possession of an educated son.

Another advance made by the " Children's Houses " as
an institution is related to scientific pedagogy. This
branch of pedagogy, heretofore, being based upon the an-
thropological study of the pupil whom it is to educate, has
touched only a few of the positive questions which tend
to transform education. For a man is not only a biological
but a social product, and the social environment of indi-
viduals in the process of education, is the home. Scientific
pedagogy will seek in vain to better the new genera-
tion if it does not succeed in influencing also the environ-
ment within which this new generation grows ! I believe,
therefore, that in opening the house to the light of new
truths, and to the progress of civilisation we have solved
the problem of being able to modify directly, the envirorir
ment of the new generation, and have thus made it possible
to apply, in a practical way, the fundamental principles
of scientific pedagogy.

INAUGUEAL ADDEESS 65

The " Children's House " marks still another triumph ;
it is the first step toward the socialisation of the house.
The inmates find under their own roof the convenience of
being able to leave their little ones in a place, not only
safe, but where they have every advantage.

And let it be remembered that all the mothers in the
tenement may enjoy this privilege, going away to their
work with easy minds. Until the present time only one
class in society might have this advantage. Eich women
were able to go about their various occupations and amuse-
ments, leaving their children in the hands of a nurse or a
governess. To-day the women of the people who live in
these remodeled houses, may say, like the great lady, " I
have left my son with the governess and the nurse." More
than this, they may add, like the princess of the blood,
" And the house physician watches over them and directs
their sane and sturdy growth." These women, like the
most advanced class of English and American mothers, pos-
sess a " Biographical Chart," which, filled for the mother
by the directress and the doctor, gives her the most prac-
tical knowledge of her child's growth and condition.

We are all familiar with the ordinary advantages of the
communistic transformation of the general environment.
For example, the collective use of railway carriages, of
street lights, of the telephone, all these are great ad-
vantages. The enormous production of useful articles,
brought about by industrial progress, makes possible to all,
clean clothes, carpets, curtains, table-delicacies, better table-
ware, etc. The making of such benefits generally tends
to level social caste. All this we have seen in its reality.
But the communising of persons is new. That the collec-
tivity shall benefit from the services of the servant, the
nurse, the teacher — this is a modern ideal.

66 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

We have in the " Children's Houses " a demonstration
of this ideal which is unique in Italy or elsewhere. Its
significance is most profound, for it corresponds to a need
of the times. We can no longer say that the convenience
of leaving their children takes away from the mother a
natural social duty of first importance; namely, that of
caring for and educating her tender offspring. No, for
to-day the social and economic evolution calls the work-
ing-woman to take her place among wage-earners, and
takes away from her by force those duties which would
be most dear to her ! The mother must, in any event,
leave her child, and often with the pain of knowing
him to be abandoned. The advantages furnished by such
institutions are not limited to the labouring classes, but
extend also to the general middle-class, many of whom
work with the brain. Teachers, professors, often obliged
to give private lessons after school hours, frequently leave
their children to the care of some rough and ignorant
maid-of -all-work. Indeed, the first announcement of the
" Children's House " was followed by a deluge of letters
from persons of the better class demanding that these
helpful reforms be extended to their dwellings.

We are, then, communising a " maternal function," a
feminine duty, within the house. We may see here in
this practical act the solving of many of woman's problems
which have seemed to many impossible of solution.
What then will become of the home, one asks, if the
woman goes away from it? The home will be trans-
formed and will assume the functions of the woman.

I believe that in the future of society other forms of
communistic life will come.

Take, for example, the infirmary; woman is the natural
nurse for the dear ones of her household. But who does

INAUGURAL ADDRESS 67

not know how often in these days she is obliged to tear
herself unwillingly from the bedside of her sick to go
to her work ? Competition is great, and her absence from
her post threatens the tenure of the position from which
she draws the means of support. To be able to leave the
sick one in a " house-infirmary," to which she may have
access any free moments she may have, and where she is
at liberty to watch during the night, would be an evident
advantage to such a woman.

And how great would be the progress made in the matter
of family hygiene, in all that relates to isolation and dis-
infection! Who does not know the difficulties of a poor
family when one child is ill of some contagious disease,
and should be isolated from the others ? Often such a
family may have no kindred or friends in the city to whom
the other children may be sent.

Much more distant, but not impossible, is the communal
kitchen, where the dinner ordered in the morning is sent at
the proper time, by means of a dumb-waiter, to the family
dining-room. Indeed, this has been successfully tried in
America. Such a reform would be of the greatest ad-
vantage to those families of the middle-class who must
confide their health and the pleasures of the table to
the hands of an ignorant servant who ruins the food. At
present, the only alternative in such cases is to go out-
side the home to some cafe where a cheap table d'hote
may be had.

Indeed, the transformation of the house must compen-
sate for the loss in the family of the presence of the woman
who has become a social wage-earner.

In this way the house will become a centre, drawing
unto itself all those good things which have hitherto been
lacking: schools, public baths, hospitals, etc.

68 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

Thus the tendency will be to change the tenement
houses, which have been places of vice and peril, into
centres of education, of refinement, of comfort. This will
be helped if, besides the schools for the children, there may
grow up also clubs and reading-rooms for the inhabitants,
especially for the men, who will find there a way to pass
the evening pleasantly and decently. The tenement-club,
as possible and as useful in all social classes as is the
" Children's House," will do much toward closing the
gambling-houses and saloons to the great moral advan-
tage of the people. And I believe that the Association of
Good Building will before long establish such clubs in
its reformed tenements here in the (Quarter of San Lor-
enzo; clubs where the tenants may find newspapers and
books, and where they may hear simple and helpful
lectures.

We are, then, very far from the dreaded dissolution
of the home and of the family, through the fact that woman
has been forced by changed social and economic conditions
to give her time and strength to remunerative work. The
home itself assumes the gentle feminine attributes of the
domestic housewife. The day may come when the tenant,
having given to the proprietor of the house a certain sum,
shall receive in exchange whatever is necessary to the
comfort of life; in other words, the administration shall
become the' steward of the family.

The house, thus considered, tends to assume in its evo-
lution a significance more exalted than even the English
word " home " expresses. It does not consist of walls
alone, though these walls be the pure and shining guardians
of that intimacy which is the sacred symbol of the family.
The home shall become more than this. It lives ! It has
a soul. It may be said to embrace its inmates with the

HSTAUGUBAL ADDEESS 69

tender, consoling arms of woman. It is the giver of moral
life, of blessings; it cares for, it educates and feeds the
little ones. Within it, the tired workman shall find rest
and newness of life. He shall find there the intimate life
of the family, and its happiness.

The new woman, like the butterfly come forth from the
chrysalis, shall be liberated from all those attributes which
once made her desirable to man only as the source of the
material blessings of existence. She shall be, like man,
an individual, a free human being, a social worker; and,
like man, she shall seek blessing and repose within the
house, the house which has been reformed and communised.

She shall wish to be loved for herself and not as a
giver of comfort and repose. She shall wish a love free
from every form of servile labour. The goal of human
love is not the egotistical end of assuring its own satis-
faction — it is the sublime goal of multiplying the forces
of the free spirit, making it almost Divine, and, within
such beauty and light, perpetuating the species.

This ideal love is made incarnate by Frederick Nietzsche,
in the woman of Zarathustra, who conscientiously wished
her son to be better than she. " Why do you desire me ? "
she asks the man. " Perhaps because of the perils of a
solitary life ?

" In that case go far from me. I wish the man who has
conquered himself, who has made his soul great. I wish
the man who has conserved a clean and robust body. I
wish the man who desires to unite with me, body and soul,
to create a son! A son better, more perfect, stronger,
than any created heretofore ! "

To better the species consciously, cultivating his own
health, his own virtue, this should be the goal of man's
married life. It is a sublime concept of which, as yet,

TO THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

few think. And the socialised home of the future, liv-
ing, provident, kindly; educator and comforter; is the
true and worthy home of those human mates who wish
to better the species, and to send the race forward trium-
phant into the eternity of life !

RULES AND REGULATIONS OF THE
"CHILDREN'S HOUSES"

The Roman Association of Good Building hereby establishes
within its tenement house number , a " Children's

House/' in which may be gathered together all children
under common school age, belonging to the families of the
tenants.

The chief aim of the et Children's House " is to offer, free of
charge, to the children of those parents who are obliged to
absent themselves for their work, the personal care which
the parents are not able to give.

In the " Children's House " attention is given to the educa-
tion, the health, the physical and moral development of
the children. This work is carried on in a way suited to
the age of the children.

There shall be connected with the " Children's House " a Di-
rectress, a Physician, and a Caretaker.

The programme and hours of the " Children's House " shall
be fixed by the Directress.

There may be admitted to the " Children's House " all the
children in the tenement between the ages of three and
seven.

The parents who wish to avail themselves of the advantages
of the " Children's House " pay nothing. They must, how-
ever, assume these binding obligations :
(a) To send their children to the "Children's House" at
the appointed time, clean in body and clothing, and
provided with a suitable apron.

INAUGURAL ADDRESS

(b) To show the greatest respect and deference towaru

Directress and toward all persons connected with te-
" Children's House/' and to co-operate with the
Directress herself in the education of the children.
Once a week, at least, the mothers may talk with the
Directress, giving her information concerning the
home life of the child, and receiving helpful advice
from her.

There shall be expelled from the "Children's House":

(a) Those children who present themselves unwashed, or
in soiled clothing.

(b) Those who show themselves to be incorrigible.

(c) Those whose parents fail in respect to the persons
connected with the " Children's House," or who de-
stroy through bad conduct the educational work of the
institution.

70
fe

CHAPTEE IV;

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS USED m THE
" CHILDREN'S HOUSES "

As soon as I knew that I had at my disposal a class
of little children, it was my wish to make of this school
a field for scientific experimental pedagogy and child
psychology. I started with a view in which Wundt con-
curs ; namely, that child psychology does not. exist. In-
deed, experimental researches in regard to childhood, as,
for example, those of Preyer and Baldwin, have been made
upon not more than two or three subjects, children of
the investigators. Moreover, the instruments of psychom-
etry must be greatly modified and simplified before they
can be used with children, who do not lend themselves
passively as subjects for experimentation. Child psy-
chology can be established only through the method of ex-
ternal observation. We must renounce all idea of mak-
ing any record of internal states, which can be revealed
only by the introspection of the subject himself. The
instruments of psychometric research, as applied to peda-
gogy, have up to the present time been limited to the
esthesiometric phase of the study.

My intention was to keep in touch with the researches
of others, but to make myself independent of them, pro-
ceeding to my work without preconceptions of any kind.
I retained as the only essential, the affirmation, or, rather,
the definition of Wundt, that " all methods of experimental

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS 73

psychology may be reduced to one; namely, carefully re-
corded observation of the subject."

Treating of children, another factor must necessarily
intervene: the study of the development. Here too, I
retained the same general criterion, but without clinging
to any dogma about the activity of the child according to

ANTHROPOLOGICAL CONSIDERATION

In regard to physical development, my first thought was
given to the regulating of anthropometric observations,
and to the selection of the most important observations to
be made.

I designed an anthropometer provided with the metric
scale, varying between .50 metre and 1.50 metres. A
small stool, 30 centimetres high, could be placed upon the
floor of the anthropometer for measurements taken in a sit-
ting position. I now advise making the anthropometer
with a platform on either side of the pole bearing the scale,
so that on one side the total stature can be measured,
and on the other the height of the body when seated. In
the second case, the zero is indicated at 30 centimetres;
that is, it corresponds to the seat of the stool, which is
fixed. The indicators on the vertical post are independent
one of the other and this makes it possible to measure two
children at the same time. In this way the inconvenience
and waste of time caused by having to move the seat about,
is obviated, and also the trouble of having to calculate
the difference in the metric scale.

Having thus facilitated the technique of the researches,
I decided to take the measurements of the children's
stature, seated and standing, every month, and in order
to have these regulated as exactly as possible in their re-

THE MONTESSORI METHOD

lation to development, and also to .give greater regularity
to the research work of the teacher, I made a rule that the
measurements should be taken on the day on which the
child completed each month of his age. For this pur-
pose I designed a register arranged on the following
plan : —

Day of
month

SEPTEMBER

OCTOBER

Stature

Stature Etc.

Standing

Sitting

Standing

Sitting

1
2
3

4
Etc.

The spaces opposite each number are used to register
the name of the child born on that day of the month.
Thus the teacher knows which scholars she must measure
on the days which are marked on the calendar, and she
fills in his measurements to correspond with the month
in which he was born. In this way a most exact registra-
tion can be arrived at without having the teacher feel that
she is overburdened, or fatigued.

With regard to the weight of the child, I have arranged
that it shall be taken every week on a pair of scales which
I have placed in the dressing-room where the children are
given their bath. According to the day on which the
child is born, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc., we
have him weighed when he is ready to take a bath. Thus
the children's baths (no small matter when we consider

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS 75

a class of fifty) are sub-divided into seven days, and from
three to five children go to the bath every day. Cer-
tainly, theoretically, a daily bath would be desirable, but
in order to manage this a large bath or a number of small
ones would be necessary, so that a good many children
could be bathed at once. Even a weekly bath entails many
difficulties, and sometimes has to be given up. In any
case, I have distributed the taking of the weight in the
order stated with the intention of thus arranging for
and making sure of periodical baths.*

The form here given shows the register which we use
in recording the weight of the children. Every page of
the register corresponds to a month.

It seems to me that the anthropological measurements,
the taking and recording of which I have just described,
should be the only ones with which the schoolmistress
need occupy herself; and, therefore, the only ones which
should be taken actually within the school. It is my
plan that other measurements should be taken by a
physician, who either is, or is preparing to be, a specialist
in infant anthropology. In the meantime, I take these
special measurements myself.

* Incidentally, I may say, that I have invented a means of bathing
children contemporaneously, without having a large bath. In order
to manage this, I thought of having a long trough with supports at
the bottom, on which small, separate tubs could rest, with rather
large holes in the bottom. The little tubs are filled from the large
trough, into which the water runs and then goes into all the little
tubs together, by the law of the levelling of liquids, going through
the holes in the bottom. When the water is settled, it does not
pass from tub to tub, and the children will each have their own
bath. The emptying of the trough brings with it the simultaneous
emptying of the little tubs, which being of light metal, will be
easily moved from the bottom of the big tub, in order to clean it.
It is not difficult to imagine arranging a cork for the hole at the
bottom. These are only projects for the future!

THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

Monday

SEPTEMBER

1st week
Lbs.

2nd week
Lbs.

3rd week
Lbs.

4th week
Lbs.

Tuesday

Wednesday

Etc.

The examination made by the physician must neces-
sarily be complex, and to facilitate and regulate the tak-
ing of these measurements I have designed and had printed
biological charts, of which I here give an example.

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS

Date-

Number- ......... _____________

Name and Surname ............................................ _

Name of Parents- ......... — ................ Mother's Age

Professions - ........................................................... _ .........................

Details of Hereditary Antecedents ______ ....... ..............

Father's Age _____ -

Personal Antecedents

ANTHROPOLOGICAL NOTES

HEAD

Dia-

Dia.

Physical Constitution _ _

Condition of Muscles.

Colour of Skin,

Colour of Hair

NOTES

* For the Index of Stature Dr. Montessori combines the seated and
standing statures.

f The Ponderal Index is found by combining the height and weight.

78 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

As will be seen, these charts are very simple. I made
them so because I wished the doctor and the schoolmistress
to be able to use them freely and independently.

By this method the anthropometrical records are ar-
ranged in an orderly way, while the simplicity of the
mechanism, and the clearness of the charts, guarantee the
making of such observations as I have considered funda-
mental. Referring to the physician's biographical chart,
I advise that once a year the following measurements be
taken: Circumference of the head; the two greater
diameters of the head; the circumference of the chest;
and the cephalic, ponderal, and stature indices. Further
information concerning the selection of these measure-
ments may be found in my treatise, " Antropologia Peda-
gogica." The physician is asked to take these measure-
ments during the week, or at least within the month, in
which the child completes a year of his age, and, if it
is possible, on the birthday itself. In this way the task
of the physician will also be made easier, because of its
regularity. We have, at the most, fifty children in each
of our schools, and the birthdays of these scattered over
the 365 days of the year make it possible for the physician
to take his measurements from time to time, so that the
burden of his work is not heavy. It is the duty of the
teacher to inform the doctor of the birthdays of the chil-
dren.

The taking of these anthropometrical measurements has
also an educational side to it, for the pupils, when they
leave the " Children's House," know how to answer with
clearness and certainty the following questions : —

On what day of the week were you born ?

On what day of the month ?

When does your birthday come ?

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS 79

And with all this they will have acquired habits of order,
and, above all, they will have formed the habit of observ-
ing themselves. Indeed, I may say here, that the children
take a great pleasure in being measured ; at the first glance
of the teacher and at the word stature, the child begins
instantly to take off his shoes, laughing and running to
place himself upon the platform of the anthropometer ;
placing himself of his own accord in the normal position
so perfectly that the teacher needs only to arrange the
indicator and read the result.

Aside from the measurements which the physician takes
with the ordinary instruments (calipers and metal yard
measure), he makes observations upon the children's col-
ouring, condition of their muscles, state of their lymphatic
glands, the condition of the blood, etc. He notices any
malformations ; describes any pathological conditions with
care (any tendency to rickets, infant paralysis, defec-
tive sight, etc.). This objective study of the child will
guide the doctor when he finds it advisable to talk with
the parents concerning its condition. Following this,
when the doctor has found it desirable, he makes a thor-
ough, sanitary inspection of the home of the child, pre-
scribing necessary treatment and eventually doing away
with such troubles as eczema, inflammation of the ear,
feverish conditions, intestinal disturbances, etc. This care-
ful following of the case in hand is greatly assisted by the
existence of the dispensary within the house, which makes
feasible direct treatment and continual observation.

I have found that the usual questions asked patients who
present themselves at the clinics, are not adapted for use
in our schools, as the members of the families living in
these tenements are for the greater part perfectly normal.

I therefore encourage the directress of the school to

80 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

gather from her conversations with .the mothers informa-
tion of a more practical sort. She informs herself as to
the education of the parents, their habits, the wages earned,
the money spent for household purposes, etc., and from
all this she outlines a history of each family, much on
the order of those used by Le-Play. This method is, of
course, practical only where the directress lives among
the families of her scholars.

In every case, however, the physician's advice to the
mothers concerning the hygienic care of each particular
child, as well as his directions concerning hygiene in
general, will prove most helpful. The directress should
act as the go-between in these matters, since she is in the
confidence of the mothers, and since from her, such ad-
vice comes naturally.

ENVIRONMENT: SCHOOLROOM FURNISHINGS

The method of observation must undoubtedly include
the methodical observation of the morphological growth
of the pupils. But let me repeat that, while this element
necessarily enters, it is not upon this particular kind of
observation that the method is established.

The method of observation is established upon one
fundamental base — the liberty of the pupils in their
spontaneous manifestations.

With this in view, I first turned my attention to the
question of environment, and this, of course, included the
furnishing of the schoolroom. In considering an ample
playground with space for a garden as an important part
of this school environment, I am not suggesting anything
new.

The novelty lies, perhaps, in my idea for the use of this
open-air space, which is to be in direct communication

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS 81

with the schoolroom, so that the children may be free
to go and come as they like, throughout the entire day.
I shall speak of this more fully later on.

The principal modification in the matter of school fur-
nishings is the abolition of desks, and benches or stationary
chairs. I have had tables made with wide, solid, octagonal
legs, spreading in such a way that the tables are at the
same time solidly firm and very light, so light, indeed,
that two four-year-old children can easily carry them about.
These tables are rectangular and sufficiently large to ac-
commodate two children on the long side, there being room
for three if they sit rather close together. There are
smaller tables at which one child may work alone.

I also designed and had manufactured little chairs.
My first plan for these was to have them cane seated, but
experience has shown the wear on these to be so great,
that I now have chairs made entirely of wood. These
are very light and of an attractive shape. In addition
to these, I have in each schoolroom a number of com-
fortable little armchairs, some of wood and some of
wicker.

Another piece of our school furniture consists of a little
washstand, so low that it can be used by even a three-year-
old child. This is painted with a white waterproof enamel
and, besides the broad, upper and lower shelves which hold
the little white enameled basins and pitchers, there are
small side shelves for the soap-dishes, nail-brushes, towels,
etc. There is also a receptacle into which the basins
may be emptied. Wherever possible, a small cupboard
provides each child with a space where he may keep his
own soap, nail-brush, tooth-brush, etc.

In each of our schoolrooms we have provided a series
of long low cupboards, especially designed for the reception

82 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

of the didactic materials. The doors of these cupboards
open easily, and the care of the materials is confided to
the children. The tops of these cases furnish room for
potted plants, small aquariums, or for the various toys
with which the children are allowed to play freely. We
have ample blackboard space, and these boards are so
hung as to be easily used by the smallest child. Each
blackboard is provided with a small case in which are
kept the chalk, and the white cloths which we use in-
stead of the ordinary erasers.

Above the blackboards are hung attractive pictures,
chosen carefully, representing simple scenes in which chil-
dren would naturally be interested. Among the pictures
in our " Children's Houses " in Rome we have hung a copy
of Raphael's " Madonna della Seggiola," and this picture
we have chosen as the emblem of the " Children's Houses."
For indeed, these " Children's Houses " represent not
only social progress, but universal human progress, and
are closely related to the elevation of the idea of mother-
hood, to the progress of woman and to the protection of
her offspring. In this beautiful conception, Raphael has
not only shown us the Madonna as a Divine Mother hold-
ing in her arms the babe who is greater than she, but by
the side of this symbol of all motherhood, he has placed
the figure of St. John, who represents humanity. So in
Raphael's picture we see humanity rendering homage to
maternity, — maternity, the sublime fact in the definite
triumph of humanity. In addition to this beautiful sym-
bolism, the picture has a value as being one of the great-
est works of art of Italy's greatest artist. And if the day
shall come when the " Children's Houses " shall be estab-
lished throughout the world, it is our wish that this pic-
ture of Raphael's shall have its place in each of the schools,

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS 83

speaking eloquently of the country in which they orig-
inated.

The children, of course, cannot comprehend the sym-
bolic significance of the " Madonna of the Chair," but
they will see something more beautiful than that which
they feel in more ordinary pictures, in which they see
mother, father, and children. And the constant compan-
ionship with this picture will awaken in their heart a
religious impression.

This, then, is the environment which I have selected
for the children we wish to educate.

I know the first objection which will present itself to
the minds of persons accustomed to the old-time methods
of discipline ; — the children in these schools, moving
about, will overturn the little tables and chairs, producing
noise and disorder ; but this is a prejudice which has long
existed in the minds of those dealing with little children,
and for which there is no real foundation.

Swaddling clothes have for many centuries been con-
sidered necessary to the new-born babe, walking-chairs
to the child who is learning to walk. So in the school,
we still believe it necessary to have heavy desks and chairs
fastened to the floor. All these things are based upon the
idea that the child should grow in immobility, and upon
the strange prejudice that, in order to execute any educa-
tional movement, we must maintain a special position of
the body ; — as we believe that we must assume a special
position when we are about to pray.

Our little tables and our various types of chairs are
all light and easily transported, and we permit the child
to select the position which he finds most comfortable.
He can make himself comfortable as well as seat himself

84 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

in his own place. And tins freedom is not only an ex-
ternal sign of liberty, but a means of education. If by
an awkward movement a child upsets a chair, which falls
noisily to the floor, he will have an evident proof of his
own incapacity; the same movement had it taken place
amid stationary benches would have passed unnoticed by
him. Thus the child has some means by which he can
correct himself, and having done so he will have before
him the actual proof of the power he has gained: the
little tables and chairs remain firm and silent each in
its own place. It is plainly seen that the child has learned
to command his movements.

In the old method, the proof of discipline attained lay
in a fact entirely contrary to this; that is, in the im-
mobility and silence of the child himself. Immobility
and silence which hindered the child from learning to
move with grace and with discernment, and left him so
untrained, that, when he found himself in an environment
where the benches and chairs were not nailed to the floor,
he was not able to move about without overturning the
lighter pieces of furniture. In the " Children's Houses "
the child will not only learn to move gracefully and prop-
erly, but will come to understand the reason for such de-
portment. The ability to move which he acquires here
will be of use to him all his life. While he is still a child,
he becomes capable of conducting himself correctly, and
yet, with perfect freedom.

The Directress of the Casa dei Bambini at Milan con-
structed under one of the windows a long, narrow shelf
upon which she placed the little tables containing the
metal geometric forms used in the first lessons in design.
But the shelf was too narrow, and it often happened that
the children in selecting the pieces which they wished to

PEDAGOGICAL METHODS 85

use would allow one of the little tables to fall to the floor,
thus upsetting with great noise all the metal pieces which
it held. The directress intended to have the shelf changed,
but the carpenter was slow in coming, and while waiting
for him she discovered that the children had learned to
handle these materials so carefully that in spite of the
narrow and sloping shelf, the little tables no longer fell
to the floor.

The children, by carefully directing their movements,
ha-d overcome the defect in this piece of furniture. The
simplicity or imperfection of external objects often serves
to develop the activity and the dexterity of the pupils.
This has been one of the surprises of our method as ap-
plied in the " Children's Houses."

It all seems very logical, and now that it has been ac-
tually tried and put into words, it will no doubt seem
to everyone as simple as the egg of Christopher Columbus.

CHAPTER V
DISCIPLINE

THE pedagogical method of observation has for its base
the liberty of the child; and liberty is activity.

Discipline must come through liberty. Here is a great
principle which is difficult for followers of common-school
methods to understand. How shall one obtain discipline
in a class of free children? Certainly in our system,
we have a concept "of discipline very different from that
commonly accepted. . If discipline is founded upon liberty,
the discipline itself must necessarily be active. We do not
consider an individual disciplined only when he has been
rendered as artificially silent as a mute and as immovable
as a paralytic. He is an individual annihilated, not dis-
ciplined.

We call an individual disciplined when he is master
of himself, and can, therefore, regulate his own conduct
when it shall be necessary to follow some rule of life.
Such a concept of active discipline is not easy either to
comprehend or to apply. But certainly it contains a
great educational principle, very different from the old-
time absolute and undiscussed coercion to immobility.

A special technique is necessary to the teacher who is
to lead the child along such a path of discipline, if she
is to make it possible for him to continue in this way
all his life, advancing indefinitely toward perfect self-
mastery. Since the child now learns to move rather than

DISCIPLINE 87

to sit still., he prepares himself not for the school, but for
life ; for he becomes able, through habit and through prac-
tice, to perform easily and correctly the simple acts of
social or community life. The discipline to which the
child habituates himself here is, in its character, not
limited to the school environment but extends to society.

The liberty of the child should have as its limit the
collective interest; as its form,, what we universally con-
sider good breeding. We must, therefore, check in the
child whatever offends or annoys others, or whatever tends
toward rough or ill-bred acts. But all the rest, — every
manifestation having a useful scope, — whatever it be, and
under whatever form it expresses itself, must not only
be permitted, but must be observed by the teacher. Here
lies the essential point ; from her scientific preparation, the
teacher must bring not only the capacity, but the desire,
to observe natural phenomena. In our system, she must
become a passive, much more than an active, influence,
and her passivity shall be composed of anxious scientific
curiosity, and of absolute respect for the phenomenon
which she wishes to observe. The teacher must under-
stand and feel her position of observer: the activity must
lie in the phenomenon.

Such principles assuredly have a place in schools for
little children who are exhibiting the first psychic mani-
festations of their lives. We cannot know the conse-
quences of suffocating a spontaneous action at the time
when the child is just beginning to be active : perhaps we
suffocate life itself. Humanity shows itself in all its
intellectual splendour during this tender age as the sun
shows itself at the dawn, and the flower in the first un-
folding of the petals; and we must respect religiously,
reverently, these first indications of individuality. If any

88 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

educational act is to be efficacious, it will be only that
which tends to help toward the complete unfolding of
this life. To be thus helpful it is necessary rigorously
to avoid the arrest of spontaneous movements and the im-
position of arbitrary tasks. It is of course understood,
that here we do not speak of useless or dangerous acts,
for these must be suppressed, destroyed.

Actual training and practice are necessary to fit for
this method teachers who have not been prepared for
scientific observation, and such training is especially
necessary to those who have been accustomed to the old
domineering methods of the common school. My ex-
periences in training teachers for the work in my schools
did much to convince me of the great distance between these
methods and those. Even an intelligent teacher, who un-
derstands the principle, finds much difficulty in putting it
into practice. She can not understand that her new task
is apparently passive, like that of the astronomer who sits
immovable before the telescope while the worlds whirl
through space. This idea, that life acts of itself, and
that in order to study it, to divine its secrets or to direct
its activity, it is necessary to observe it and to under-
stand it without intervening — this idea, I say, is very
difficult for anyone to assimilate and to put into prac-
tice.

The teacher has too thoroughly learned to be the one
free activity of the school ; it has for too long been virtually
her duty to suffocate the activity of her pupils. When
in the first days in one of the " Children's Houses " she
does not obtain order and silence, she looks about her
embarrassed as if asking the public to excuse her, and
calling upon those present to testify to her innocence. In

DISCIPLINE 89

vain do we repeat to her that the disorder of the first
moment is necessary. And finally, when we oblige her to
do nothing but watch, she asks if she had not better re-
sign, since she is no longer a teacher.

But when she begins to find it her duty to discern which
are the acts to hinder and which are those to observe, the
teacher of the old school feels a great void within her-
self and begins to ask if she will not be inferior to her
new task. In fact, she who is not prepared finds her-
self for a long time abashed and impotent; whereas the
broader the teacher's scientific culture and practice in ex-
perimental psychology, the sooner will come for her the
marvel of unfolding life, and her interest in it.

E"otari, in his novel, " My Millionaire Uncle," which is
a criticism of modern customs, gives with that quality of
vividness which is peculiar to him, a most eloquent example
of the old-time methods of discipline. The " uncle "
when a child was guilty of such a number of disorderly
acts that he practically upset the whole town, and in des-
peration he was confined in a school. Here " Fufu,"
as he was called, experiences his first wish to be kind,
and feels the first moving of his soul when he is near
to the pretty little Fufetta, and learns that she is hungry
and has no luncheon.

" He glanced around, looked at Fufetta, rose, took his
little lunch basket, and without saying a word placed it in
her lap.

" Then he ran away from her, and, without knowing
why he did so, hung his head and burst into tears.

" My uncle did not know how to explain to himself the
reason for this sudden outburst.

" He had seen for the first time two kind eyes full of
sad tears, and he had felt moved within himself, and at

90 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

the same time a great shame had rushed over him; the
shame of eating near to one who had nothing to eat.

" Not knowing how to express the impulse of his heart,
nor what to say in asking her to accept the offer of his
little basket, nor how to invent an excuse to justify his
offering it to her, he remained the victim of this first deep
movement of his little soul.

" Fufetta, all confused, ran to him quickly. With great
gentleness she drew away the arm in which he had hidden
his face.

" ' Do not cry, Fufu/ she said to him softly, almost as if
pleading with him. She might have been speaking to
her beloved rag doll, so motherly and intent was her little
face, and so full of gentle authority, her manner.

" Then the little girl kissed him, and my uncle yielding
to the influence which had filled his heart, put his arms
around her neck, and, still silent and sobbing, kissed her
in return. At last, sighing deeply, he wiped from his
face and eyes the damp traces of his emotion, and smiled
again.

" A strident voice called out from the other end of the
courtyard :

" ' Here, here, you two down there — be quick with you ;
inside, both of you ! '

" It was the teacher, the guardian. She crushed that
first gentle stirring in the soul of a rebel with the same
blind brutality that she would have used toward two chil-
dren engaged in a fight.

" It was the time for all to go back into the school —
and everybody had to obey the rule."

Thus I saw my teachers act in the first days of my prac-
tice school in the " Children's Houses." They almost in-
voluntarily recalled the children to immobility without

DISCIPLINE 91

observing and distinguishing the nature of the movements
they repressed. There was, for example, a little girl who
gathered her companions about her and then, in the midst
of them, began to talk and gesticulate. The teacher at
once ran to her, took hold of her arms, and told her to be
still ; but I, observing the child, saw that she was playing
at being teacher or mother to the others, and teaching
them the morning prayer, the invocation to the saints, and
the sign of the cross : she already showed herself as a
director. Another child, who continually made disor-
ganised and misdirected movements, and who was con-
sidered abnormal, one day, with an expression of intense
attention, set about moving the tables. Instantly they
were upon him to make him stand still because he made
too much noise. Yet this was one of the first manifesta-
tions,, in this child, of movements that were co-ordinated
and directed toward a useful end, and it was therefore
an action that should have been respected. In fact, after
this the child began to be quiet and happy like the others
whenever he had any small objects to move about and to
arrange upon his desk.

It often happened that while the directress replaced in
the boxes various materials that had been used, a child
would draw near, picking up the objects, with the evident
desire of imitating the teacher. The first impulse was
to send the child back to her place with the remark, " Let
it alone; go to your seat." Yet the child expressed by
this act a desire to be useful; the time, with her, was
ripe for a lesson in order.

One day, the children had gathered themselves, laugh-
ing and talking, into a circle about a basin of water con-
taining some floating toys. We had in the school a little
boy barely two and a half years old. He had been left

92 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

outside the circle, alone, and it was easy to see that he was
filled with intense curiosity. I watched him from a dis-
tance with great interest; he first drew near to the other
children and tried to force his way among them, but he
was not strong enough to do this, and he then stood look-
ing about him. The expression of thought on his little
face was intensely interesting. I wish that I had had
a camera so that I might have photographed him. His
eye lighted upon a little chair, and evidently he made
up his mind to place it behind the group of children and
then to climb up on it. He began to move toward the
chair, his face illuminated with hope, but at that mo-
ment the teacher seized him brutally (or, perhaps, she
would have said, gently) in her arms, and lifting him
up above the heads of the other children showed him the
basin of water, saying, " Come, poor little one, you shall
see too ! "

Undoubtedly the child, seeing the floating toys, did not
experience the joy that he was about to feel through con-
quering the obstacle with his own force. The sight of
those objects could be of no advantage to him, while his
intelligent efforts would have developed his inner powers.
The teacher hindered the child, in this case, from edu-
cating himself, without giving him any compensating good
in return. The little fellow had been about to feel him-
self a conqueror, and he found himself held within two
imprisoning arms, impotent. The expression of joy, anx-
iety, and hope, which had interested me so much faded
from his face and left on it the stupid expression of the
child who knows that others will act for him.

When the teachers were weary of my observations, they
began to allow the children to do whatever they pleased.
I saw children with their feet on the tables, or with their

DISCIPLINE 93

fingers in their noses, and no intervention was made to
correct them. I saw others push their companions, and
I saw dawn in the faces of these an expression of violence ;
and not the slightest attention on the part of the teacher.
Then I had to intervene to show with what absolute rigour
it is necessary to hinder, and little by little suppress, all
those things which we must not do, so that the child may
come to discern clearly between good and evil.

If discipline is to be lasting, its foundations must be
laid in this way and these first days are the most difficult
for the directress. The first idea that the child must ac-
quire, in order to be actively disciplined, is that of the
difference between good and evil; and the task of the
educator lies in seeing that the child does not confound
good with immobility,, and evil with activity, as often
happens in the case of the old-time discipline. And all
this because our aim is to discipline for activity,, for work,
for good; not for immobility, not for passivity, not for
obedience.

A room in which all the children move about usefully,
intelligently, and voluntarily, without committing any
rough or rude act, would seem to me a classroom very well
disciplined indeed.

To seat the children in rows, as in the common schools,
to assign to each little one a place, and to propose that
they shall sit thus quietly observant of the order of the
whole class as an assemblage — this can be attained later,
as the starting place of collective education. For also,
in life, it sometimes happens that we must all remain
seated and quiet; when, for example, we attend a con-
cert or a lecture. And we know that even to us, as grown
people, this costs no little sacrifice.

94 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

If we can, when we have established individual disci-
pline, arrange the children, sending each one to his own
place, in order, trying to make them understand the idea
that thus placed they look well, and that it is a good thing
to be thus placed in order, that it is a good and pleasing
arrangement in the room, this ordered and tranquil ad-
justment of theirs — then their remaining in their places,
quiet and silent, is the result of a species of lesson, not
an imposition. To make them understand the idea,
without calling their attention too forcibly to the practice,
to have them assimilate a principle of collective order —
that is the important thing.

If, after they have understood this idea, they rise, speak,
change to another place, they no longer do this without
knowing and without thinking, but they do it because they
wish to rise, to speak, etc. ; that is, from that state of
repose and order, well understood, they depart in order
to undertake some voluntary action; and knowing that
there are actions which are prohibited, this will give them
a new impulse to remember to discriminate between good
and evil.

The movements of the children from the state of or-
der become always more co-ordinated and perfect with the
passing of the days; in fact, they learn to reflect upon
their own acts. Now (with the idea of order understood
by the children) the observation of the way in which the
children pass from the first disordered movements to those
which are spontaneous and ordered — this is the book of
the teacher; this is the book which must inspire her ac-
tions ; it is the only one in which she must read and study
if she is to become a real educator.

For the child with such exercises makes, to a certain
extent,- a selection of his own tendencies, which were at

DISCIPLINE 95

first confused in the unconscious disorder of his move-
ments. It is remarkable how clearly individual differ-
ences show themselves, if we proceed in this way; the
child, conscious and free, reveals himself.

There are those who remain quietly in their seats, apa-
thetic, or drowsy ; others who leave their places to quarrel,
to fight, or to overturn the various blocks and toys, and
then there are those others who set out to fulfil a definite
and determined act — moving a chair to some particular
spot and sitting down in it, moving one of the unused
tables and arranging upon it the game they wish to play.

Our idea of liberty for the child cannot be the simple
concept of liberty we use in the observation of plants,
insects, etc.

The child, because of the peculiar characteristics of help-
lessness with which he is born, and because of his qualities
as a social individual is circumscribed by bonds which
limit his activity.

An educational method that shall have liberty as its
basis must intervene to help the child to a conquest of
these various obstacles. In other words, his training must
be such as shall help him to diminish, in a rational man-
ner, the social bonds, which limit his activity.

Little by little, as the child grows in such an atmos-
phere, his spontaneous manifestations will become more
clear, with the clearness of truth, revealing his nature.
For all these reasons, the first form of educational in-
tervention must tend to lead the child toward independence.

INDEPENDENCE

No one can be free unless he is independent : therefore,
the first, active manifestations of the child's individual
liberty must be so guided that through this activity he

96 * THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

may arrive at independence. Little children, from the
moment in which they are weaned, are making their way
toward independence.

What is a weaned child ? In reality it is a child that
has become independent of the mother's breast. Instead
of this one source of nourishment he will find various kinds
of food; for him the means of existence are multiplied,
and he can to some extent make a selection of his food,
whereas he was at first limited absolutely to one form
of nourishment.

Nevertheless, he is still dependent, since he is not yet
able to walk, and cannot wash and dress himself, and
since he is not yet able to ask for things in a language
which is clear and easily understood. He is still in this
period to a great extent the slave of everyone. By the
age of three, however, the child should have been able to
render himself to a great extent independent and free.

That we have not yet thoroughly assimilated the high-
est concept of the term independence, is due to the fact
that the social form in which we live is still servile. In
an age of civilisation where servants exist, the concept
of that form of life which is independence cannot take
root or develop freely. Even so in the time of slavery,
the concept of liberty was distorted and darkened.

Our servants are not our dependents, rather it is we
who are dependent upon them.

It is not possible to accept universally as a part of our
social structure such a deep human error without feeling
the general effects of it in the form of moral inferiority.
We often believe ourselves to be independent simply be-
cause no one commands us, and because we command
others; but the nobleman who needs to call a servant tp
his aid is really a dependent through his own inferiority.

DISCIPLINE 97

The paralytic who cannot take off his boots because of
a pathological fact, and the prince who dare not take them
off because of a social fact, are in reality reduced to the
same condition.

Any nation that accepts the idea of servitude and be- ,
lieves that it is an advantage for man to be served by
man, admits servility as an instinct, and indeed we all
too easily lend ourselves to obsequious service, giving to
it such complimentary names as courtesy, politeness,
charity.

In reality, he who is served is limited in his inde-
pendence. This concept will be the foundation of the
dignity of the man of the future ; " I do not wish to be
served, because I am not an impotent." And this idea
must be gained before men can feel themselves to be
really free.

Any pedagogical action, if it is to be efficacious in the
training of little children, must tend to help the children
to advance upon this road of independence. We must
help them to learn to walk without assistance, to run,
to go up and down stairs, to lift up fallen objects, to dress
and undress themselves, to bathe themselves, to speak dis-
tinctly, and to express their own needs clearly. We must
give such help as shall make it possible for children to
achieve the satisfaction of their own individual aims and
desires. All this is a part of education for independence.

We habitually serve children; and this is not only an
act of servility toward them, but it is dangerous, since
it tends to suffocate their useful, spontaneous activity.
We are inclined to believe that children are like puppets,
and we wash them and feed them as if they were dolls.
We do not stop to think that the child who does not do,
does not know how to do. He must, nevertheless, do

98 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

these things, and nature has furnished him with the phys-
ical means for carrying on these various activities, and
with the intellectual means for learning how to do them.
And our duty toward him is, in every case, that of help-
ing him to make a conquest of such useful acts as nature
intended he should perform for himself. The mother
who feeds her child without making the least effort to
teach him to hold the spoon for himself and to try to
find his mouth with it, and who does not at least eat
herself, inviting the child to look and see how she does
it, is not a good mother. She offends the fundamental
human dignity of her son, — she treats him as if he were
a doll, when he is, instead, a man confided by nature to
her care.

Who does not know that to teach a child to feed him-
self, to wash and dress himself, is a much more tedious
and difficult work, calling for infinitely greater patience,
than feeding, washing and dressing the child one's self?
But the former is the work of an educator, the latter is
the easy and inferior work of a servant. Not only is it
easier for the mother, but it is very dangerous for the
child, since it closes the way and puts obstacles in the path
of the life which is developing.

The ultimate consequences of such an attitude on the
part of the parent may be very serious indeed. The grand
gentleman who has too many servants not only grows
constantly more and more dependent upon them, until he
is, finally, actually their slave, but his muscles grow weak
through inactivity and finally lose their ^natural capacity
for action. The mind of one who does not work for that
which he needs, but commands it from others, grows heavy
and sluggish. If such a man should some day awaken to
the fact of his inferior position and should wish to re-

DISCIPLINE 99

gain once more his own independence, he would find that
he had no longer the force to do so. These dangers should
be presented to the parents of the privileged social classes,
if their children are to use independently and for right
the special power which is theirs. Needless help is an
actual hindrance to the development of natural forces.

Oriental women wear trousers, it is true, and European
women, petticoats 5 but the former, even more than the
latter, are taught as a part of their education the art of
not moving. Such an attitude toward woman leads to
the fact that man works not only for himself, but for
woman. And the woman wastes her natural strength and
activity and languishes in slavery. She is not only main-
tained and served, she is, besides, diminished, belittled, in
that individuality which is hers by right of her existence
as a human being. As an individual member of society,
she is a cypher. She is rendered deficient in all those
powers and resources which tend to the preservation of
life. Let me illustrate this:

A carriage containing a father, mother, and child, is
going along a country road. An armed brigand stops
the carriage with the well-known phrase, " Your money
or your life." Placed in this situation, the three persons
in the carriage act in very different ways. The man,
who is a trained marksman, and who is armed with a
revolver, promptly draws, and confronts the assassin. The
boy, armed only with the freedom and lightness of his
own legs, cries' out and betakes himself to flight. The
woman, who is not armed in any way whatever, neither
artificially nor naturally (since her limbs, not trained for
activity, are hampered by her skirts), gives a frightened
gasp, and sinks down unconscious.

These three diverse reactions are in close relation to

100 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

the state of liberty and independence of each of the three
individuals. The swooning woman is she whose cloak is
carried for her by attentive cavaliers, who are quick to
pick up any fallen object that she may be spared all exer-
tion.

The peril of servilism and dependence lies not only in
that " useless consuming of life," which leads to helpless-
ness, but in the development of individual traits which
indicate all too plainly a regrettable perversion and de-
generation of the normal man. I refer to the domineering
and tyrannical behaviour with examples of which we are
all only too familiar. The domineering habit develops
side by side with helplessness. It is the outward sign
of the state of feeling of him who conquers through the
work of others. Thus it often happens that the master
is a tyrant toward his servant. It is the spirit of the
task-master toward the slave.

Let us picture to ourselves a clever and proficient work-
man, capable, not only of producing much and perfect
work, but of giving advice in his workshop, because of
his ability to control and direct the general activity of
the environment in which he works. The man who is thus
master of his environment will be able to smile before
the anger of others, showing that great mastery of him-
self which comes from consciousness of his ability to do
things. We should not, however, be in the least surprised
to know that in his home this capable workman scolded his
wife if the soup was not to his taste, or not ready at the
appointed time. In his home, he is no longer the capable
workman; the skilled workman here is the wife, who
serves him and prepares his food for him. He is a serene
and pleasant man where he is powerful through being
efficient, but is domineering where he is served. Per-

DISCIPLINE 101

haps if he should learn how to prepare his soup he might
become a perfect man! The man who, through his own
efforts, is able to perform all the actions necessary for his
comfort and development in life, conquers himself, and in
doing so multiplies his abilities and perfects himself as
an individual.

We must make of the future generation, powerful men,
and by that we mean men who are independent and free.

ABOLITION OF PRIZES AND OP EXTERNAL FORMS
OF PUNISHMENT

Once we have accepted and established such principles,
the abolition of prizes and external forms of punishment
will follow naturally. Man, disciplined through liberty,
begins to desire the true and only prize which will never
belittle or disappoint him, — the birth of human power
and liberty within that inner life of his from which his
activities must spring.

In my own experience I have often marvelled to see
how true this is. During our first months in the " Chil-
dren's Houses," the teachers had not yet learned to put
into practice the pedagogical principles of liberty and dis-
cipline. One of them, especially, busied herself, when I
was absent, in remedying my ideas by introducing a few
of those methods to which she had been accustomed. So,
one day when I came in unexpectedly, I found one of
the most intelligent of the children wearing a large Greek
cross of silver, hung from his neck by a fine piece of
white ribbon, while another child was seated in an arm-
chair which had been conspicuously placed in the middle of
the room.

The first child had been rewarded, the second was be-
ing punished. The teacher, at least while I was present,

102 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

did not interfere in any way, and the situation remained
as I had found it. I held my peace, and placed myself
where I might observe quietly.

The child with the cross was moving back and forth,
carrying the objects with which he had been working, from
his table to that of the teacher, and bringing others in
their place. He was busy and happy. As he went back
and forth he passed by the armchair of the child who was
being punished. The silver cross slipped from his neck
and fell to the floor, and the child in the armchair picked
it up, dangled it on its white ribbon, looking at it from
all sides, and then said to his companion : " Do you see
what you have dropped ? " The child turned and looked
at the trinket with an air of indifference; his expression
seemed to say; "Don't interrupt me," his voice replied
" I don't care." " Don't you care, really ? " said the pun-
ished one calmly. " Then I will put it on myself." And
the other replied, " Oh, yes, put it on," in a tone that
seemed to add, " and leave me in peace ! "

The boy in the armchair carefully arranged the ribbon
so that the cross lay upon the front of his pink apron
where he could admire its brightness and its pretty form,
then he settled himself more comfortably in his little chair
and rested his arms with evident pleasure upon the arms
of the chair. The affair remained thus, and was quite
just. The dangling cross could satisfy the child who was
being punished, but not the active child, content and happy
with his work.

One day I took with me on a visit to another of the
" Children's Houses " a lady who praised the children
highly and who, opening a box she had brought, showed
them a number of shining medals, each tied with a bright
red ribbon. " The mistress," she said " will put these on

DISCIPLINE 103

the breasts of those children who are the cleverest and the
best.7'

As I was under no obligation to instruct this visitor
in my methods, I kept silence, and the teacher took the
box. At that moment, a most intelligent little boy of
four, who was seated quietly at one of the little tables,
wrinkled his forehead in an act of protest and cried out
over and over again ; — " Not to the boys, though, not to
the boys ! "

What a revelation ! " This little fellow already knew
that he stood among the best and strongest of his class,
although no one had ever revealed this fact to him, and
he did not wish to be offended by this prize. Not know-
ing how to defend his dignity, he invoked the superior
quality of his masculinity !

As to punishments, we have many times come in con-
tact with children who disturbed the others without pay-
ing any attention to our corrections. Such children were
at once examined by the physician. When the case proved
to be that of a normal child, we placed one of the little
tables in a corner of the room, and in this way isolated
the child ; having him sit in a comfortable little armchair,
so placed that he might see his companions at work, and
giving him those games and toys to which he was most
attracted. This isolation almost always succeeded in
calming the child; from his position he could see the en-
tire assembly of his companions, and the way in which they
carried on their work was an object lesson much more
efficacious than any words of the teacher could possibly
have been. Little by little, he would come to see the
advantages of being one of the company working so busily
before his eyes, and he would really wish to go back and
do as the others did. We have in this way led back again

104 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

to discipline all the children who at .first seemed to rebel
against it. The isolated child was always made the object
of special care, almost as if he were ill. I myself, when
I entered the room, went first of all directly to him, caress-
ing him, as if he were a very little child. Then I turned
my attention to the others, interesting myself in their
work, asking questions about it as if they had been little
men. I do not know what happened in the soul of these
children whom we found it necessary to discipline, but
certainly the conversion was always very complete and
lasting. They showed great pride in learning how to
work and how to conduct themselves, and always showed
a very tender affection for the teacher and for me.

THE BIOLOGICAL CONCEPT OF LIBERTY IN PEDAGOGY

From a biological point of view, the concept of liberty
in the education of the child in his earliest years must be
understood as demanding those conditions adapted to the
most favourable development of his entire individuality.
So, from the physiological side as well as from the mental
side, this includes the free development of the brain. The
educator must be as one inspired by a deep worship of life,
and must, through this reverence, respect, while he observes
with human interest, the development of the child life.
]STow, child life is not an abstraction; it is the life of
individual children. There exists only one real biological
manifestation: the living individual; and toward single
individuals, one by one observed, education must direct
itself. By education must be understood the active help
given to the normal expansion of the life of the child.
The child is a body which grows, and a soul which de-
develops, — these two forms, physiological and psychic,
have -one eternal font, life itself. We must neither mar

DISCIPLINE 105

nor stifle the mysterious powers which lie within
these two forms of growth, but we must await from
them the manifestations which we know will succeed one
another.

Environment is undoubtedly a secondary factor in the
phenomena of life; it can modify in that it can help or
hinder, but it can never create. The modern theories of
evolution, from Naegeli to De Vries, consider throughout
the development of the two biological branches, animal
and vegetable, this interior factor as the essential force in
the transformation of the species and in the transformation
of the individual. The origins of the development, both
in the species and in the individual, lie within. The child
does not grow because he is nourished, because he breathes,
because he is placed in conditions of temperature to which
he is adapted; he grows because the potential life within
him develops, making itself visible; because the fruitful
germ from which his life has come develops itself accord-
ing to the biological destiny which was fixed for it by
heredity. Adolescence does not come because the child
laughs, or dances, or does gymnastic exercises, or is well
nourished; but because he has arrived at that particular
physiological state. Life makes itself manifest, — life
creates, life gives : — and is in its turn held within certain
limits and bound by certain laws which are insuperable.
The fixed characteristics of the species do not change, —
they can only vary.

This concept, so brilliantly set forth by De Vries in his
Mutation Theory, illustrates also the limits of education.
We can act on the variations which are in relation to the
environment, and whose limits vary slightly in the species
and in the individual, but we cannot act upon the muta-
tions. The mutations are bound by some mysterious tie

106 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

to the very font of life itself, and their power rises su-
perior to the modifying elements of the environment.

A species, for example, cannot mutate or change into
another species through any phenomenon of adaptation,
as, on the other hand, a great human genius cannot be
suffocated by any limitation, nor by any false form of edu-
cation.

The environment acts more strongly upon the individual
life the less fixed and strong this individual life may be.
But environment can act in two opposite senses, favouring
life, and stifling it. Many species of palm, for example,
are splendid in the tropical regions, because the climatic
conditions are favourable to their development, but many
species of both animals and plants have become extinct in
regions to which they were not able to adapt themselves.

Life is a superb goddess, always advancing, overthrow-
ing the obstacles which environment places in the way of
her triumph. This is the basic or fundamental truth, —
whether it be a question of species or of individuals, there
persists always the forward march of those victorious ones
in whom this mysterious life-force is strong and vital.

It is evident that in the case of humanity, and especially
in the case of our civil humanity, which we call society,
the important and imperative question is that of the care,
or perhaps we might say, the culture of human life.

CHAPTER VI

How THE LESSONS SHOULD BE GIVEN

"Let all thy words be counted."
Dante, Inf., canto X.

GIVEN the fact that, through the regime of liberty the
pupils can manifest their natural tendencies in the school,
and that with this in view we have prepared the environ-
ment and the materials (the objects with which the child
is to work), the teacher must not limit her action to ob-
servation, but must proceed to experiment.

In this method the lesson corresponds to an experiment.
The more fully the teacher is acquainted with the methods
of experimental psychology, the better will she understand
how to give the lesson. Indeed, a special technique is
necessary if the method is to be properly applied. The
teacher must at least have attended the training classes in
the " Children's Houses," in order to acquire a knowledge
of the fundamental principles of the method and to under-
stand their application. The most difficult portion of this
training is that which refers to the method for discipline.

In the first days of the school the children do not learn
the idea of collective order; this idea follows and comes
as a result of those disciplinary exercises through which
the child learns to discern between good and evil. This
being the case, it is evident that, at the outset the teacher
cannot give collective lessons. Such lessons, indeed, will
always be very rare, since the children being free are not

107

108 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

obliged to remain in their places quiet and ready to listen
to the teacher, or to watch what she is doing. The col-
lective lessons, in fact, are of very secondary importance,
and have been almost abolished by us.

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE INDIVIDUAL LESSONS : CON-
CISENESS, SIMPLICITY, OBJECTIVITY

The lessons, then, are individual, and brevity must be
one of their chief characteristics. Dante gives excellent
advice to teachers when he says, " Let thy words be
counted." The more carefully we cut away useless words,
the more perfect will become the lesson. And in prepar-
ing the lessons which she is to give, the teacher must pay
special attention to this point, counting and weighing the
value of the words which she is to speak.

Another characteristic quality of the lesson in the " Chil-
dren's Houses " is its simplicity. It must be stripped of
all that is not absolute truth. That the teacher must not
lose herself in vain words, is included in the first quality
of conciseness; this second, then, is closely related to the
first : that is, the carefully chosen words must be the most
simple it is possible to find, and must refer to the truth.

The third quality of the lesson is its objectivity. The
lesson must be presented in such a way that the personality
of the teacher shall disappear. There shall remain in evi-
dence only the object to which she wishes to call the atten-
tion of the child. This brief and simple lesson must be
considered by the teacher as an explanation of the object
and of the use which the child can make of it.

In the giving of such lessons the fundamental guide
must be the method of observation, in which is included
and understood the liberty of the child. So the teacher
observe whether the child interests himself in the

HOW LESSONS SHOULD BE GIVEN 109

object, how he is interested in it, for how long, etc., even
noticing the expression of his face. And she must take
great care not to offend the principles of liberty. For, if
she provokes the child to make an unnatural effort, she
will no longer know what is the spontaneous activity of
the child. If, therefore, the lesson rigorously prepared
in this brevity, simplicity and truth is not understood by
the child, is not accepted by him as an explanation of the
object, — the teacher must be warned of two things : — first,
not to insist by repeating the lesson; and second, not to
make the child feel that he has made a mistake, or that he
is not understood, because in doing so she will cause him
to make an effort to understand, and will thus alter the
natural state which must be used by her in making her
psychological observation. A few examples may serve to
illustrate this point.

Let us suppose, for example, that the teacher wishes to
teach to a child the two colours, red and blue. She de-
sires to attract the attention of the child to the object.
She says, therefore, " Look at this." Then, in order to
teach the colours, she says, showing him the red, " This
is red/' raising her voice a little and pronouncing the word
" red " slowly and clearly ; then showing him the other
colour, " This is blue." In order to make sure that the
child has understood, she says to him, " Give me the red,"
— " Give me the blue." Let us suppose that the child
in following this last direction makes a mistake. The
teacher does not repeat and does not insist; she smiles,
gives the child a friendly caress and takes away the col-
ours.

Teachers ordinarily are greatly surprised at such sim-
plicity. They often say, " But everybody knows how to
do that ! " Indeed, this again is a little like the egg of

110 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

Christopher Columbus, but the truth is that not everyone
knows how to do this simple thing (to give a lesson with
such simplicity). To measure one's own activity, to make
it conform to these standards of clearness, brevity and
truth, is practically a very difficult matter. Especially is
this true of teachers prepared by the old-time methods, who
have learned to labour to deluge the child with useless, and
often, false words. For example, a teacher who had taught
in the public schools often reverted to collectivity. Now in
giving a collective lesson much importance is necessarily
given to the simple thing which is to be taught, and it is
necessary to oblige all the children to follow the teacher's
explanation, when perhaps not all of them are disposed to
give their attention to the particular lesson in hand. The
teacher has perhaps commenced her lesson in this way : —
" Children, see if you can guess what I have in my hand ! "
She knows that the children cannot guess, and she there-
fore attracts their attention by means of a falsehood.
Then she probably says, — " Children, look out at the
sky. Have you ever looked at it before ? Have you never
noticed it at night when it is all shining with stars ? No !
Look at my apron. Do you know what colour it is?
Doesn't it seem to you the same colour as the sky ? Very
well then, look at this colour I have in my hand. It is
the same colour as the sky and my apron. It is blue.
Now look around you a little and see if you can find some-
thing in the room which is blue. And do you know what
colour cherries are, and the colour of the burning coals in
the fireplace, etc., etc."

Now in the mind of the child after he has made the use-
less effort of trying to guess there revolves a confused mass
of ideas, — the sky, the apron, the cherries, etc. It will
be difficult for him to extract from all this confusion the

HOW LESSONS SHOULD BE GIVEN 111

idea which it was the scope of the lesson to make clear to
him ; namely, the recognition of the two colours, blue and
red. Such a work Ci selection is almost impossible for the
mind of a child who is not yet able to follow a long dis-
course.

I remember being present at an arithmetic lesson where
the children were being taught that two and three make
five. To this end, the teacher made use of a counting
board having coloured beads strung on its thin wires. She
arranged, for example, two beads on the top line, then on
a lower line three, and at the bottom five beads. I do not
remember very clearly the development of this lesson, but
I do know that the teacher found it necessary to place be-
side the two beads on the upper wire a little cardboard
dancer with a blue skirt, which she christened on the spot
the name of one of the children in the class, saying, " This
is Mariettina." And then beside the other three beads she
placed a little dancer dressed in a different colour, which
she called " Gigina." I do not know exactly how the
teacher arrived at the demonstration of the sum, but cer-
tainly she talked for a long time with these little dancers,
moving them about, etc. If I remember the dancers more
clearly than I do the arithmetic process, how must it have
been with the children ? If by such a method they were
able to learn that two and three make five, they must have
made a tremendous mental effort, and the teacher must
have found it necessary to talk with the little dancers for
a long time.

In another lesson a teacher wished to demonstrate to the
children the difference between noise and sound. She be-
gan by telling a long story to the children. Then suddenly
someone in league with her knocked noisily at the door.
The teacher stopped and cried out — " What is it !

112 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

What's happened! What is the matter! Children, do
you know what this person at the door has done ? I can
no longer go on with my story, I cannot remember it any
more. I will have to leave it unfinished. Do you know
what has happened ? Did you hear ? Have you under-
stood ? That was a noise, that is a noise. Oh ! I would
much rather play with this little baby (taking up a man-
dolin which she had dressed up in a table cover). Yes,
dear baby, I had rather play with you. Do you see this
baby that I am holding in my arms ? " Several children
replied, " It isn't a baby." Others said, " It's a mando-
lin." The teacher went on — " No, no, it is a baby, really
a baby. I love this little baby. Do you want me to show
you that it is a baby ? Keep very, very quiet then. It
seems to me that the baby is crying. Or, perhaps it is
talking, or perhaps it is going to say papa or mamma."
Putting her hand under the cover, she touched the strings
of the mandolin. " There ! did you hear the baby cry ?
Did you hear it call out ? " The children cried out —
" It's a mandolin, you touched the strings, you made it
play." The teacher then replied, " Be quiet, be quiet, chil-
dren. Listen to what I am going to do." Then she un-
covered the mandolin and began to play on it, saying,
" This is sound."

To suppose that the child from such a lesson as this
shall come to understand the difference between noise and
sound is ridiculous. The child will probably get the im-
pression that the teacher wished to play a joke, and that
she is rather foolish, because she lost the thread of her
discourse when she was interrupted by noise, and because
she mistook a mandolin for a baby. Most certainly, it is
the figure of the teacher herself that is impressed upon the

HOW LESSONS SHOULD BE GIVEX 113

child's mind through such a lesson, and not the object for
which the lesson was given.

To obtain a simple lesson from a teacher who has been
prepared according to the ordinary methods, is a very diffi-
cult task. I remember that, after having explained the
material fully and in detail, I called upon one of my teach-
ers to teach, by means of the geometric insets, the differ-
ence between a square and a triangle. The task of the
teacher was simply to fit a square and a triangle of wood
into the empty spaces made to receive them. She should
then have shown the child how to follow with his finger
the contours of the wooden pieces and of the frames into
which they fit, saying, meanwhile, " This is a square —
this is a triangle." The teacher whom I had called upon
began by having the child touch the square, saying, " This
is a line, — another, — another, — and another. There are
four lines : count them with your little finger and tell me
how many there are. And the corners, — count the cor-
ners, feel them with your little finger. See, there are
four corners too. Look at this piece well. It is a square."
I corrected the teacher, telling her that in this way she
was not teaching the child to recognise a form, but was
giving him an idea of sides, of angles, of number, and
that this was a very different thing from that which she
was to teach in this lesson. " But," she said, trying to
justify herself, " it is the same thing." It is not, how-
ever, the same thing. It is the geometric analysis and
the mathematics of the thing. It would be possible to
have an idea of the form of the quadrilateral without
knowing how to count to four, and, therefore, without ap-
preciating the number of sides and angles. The sides and
the angles are abstractions which in themselves do not ex-

114 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

ist; that which does exist is this piece of wood of a
determined form. The elaborate explanations of the
teacher not only confused the child's mind, but bridged
over the distance that lies between the concrete and the
abstract, between the form of an object and the mathemat-
ics of the form.

Let us suppose, I said to the teacher, that an architect
shows you a dome, the form of which interests you. He
can follow one of two methods in showing you his work :
he can call attention to the beauty of line, the harmony
of the proportions, and may then take you inside the build-
ing and up into the cupola itself, in order that you may
appreciate the relative proportion of the parts in such a
way that your impression of the cupola as a whole shall
be founded on general knowledge of its parts, or he can
have you count the windows, the wide or narrow cornices,
and can, in fact, make you a design showing the construc-
tion ; he can illustrate for you the static laws and write out
the algebraic formulae necessary in the calculation of such
laws. In the first place, you will be able to retain in your
mind the form of the cupola ; in the second, you will have
understood nothing, and will come away with the impres-
sion that the architect fancied himself speaking to a fellow
engineer, instead of to a traveller whose object was to be-
come familiar with the beautiful things about him. Very
much the same thing happens if we, instead of saying to
the child, " This is a square," and by simply having him
touch the contour establish materially the idea of the form,
proceed rather to a geometrical analysis of the contour.

Indeed, we should feel that we are making the child
precocious if we taught him the geometric forms in the
plane, presenting at the same time the mathematical con-

HOW LESSORS SHOULD BE GIVEN 115

cept, but we do not believe that the child is too immature
to appreciate the simple farm; on the contrary, it is no
effort for a child to look at a square window or table, —
he sees all these forms about him in his daily life. To
call his attention to a determined form is to clarify the
impression he has already received of it, and to fix the
idea of it. It is very much as if, while we are looking
absent-mindedly at the shore of a lake, an artist should
suddenly say to us — " How beautiful the curve is that
the shore makes there under the shade of that cliff." At
his words, the view which we have been observing almost
unconsciously, is impressed upon our minds as if it had
been illuminated by a sudden ray of sunshine, and we
experience the joy of having crystallised an impression
which we had before only imperfectly felt.

And such is our duty toward the child : to give a ray of
light and to go on our way.

I may liken the effects of these first lessons to the im-
pressions of one who walks quietly, happily, through a
wood, alone, and thoughtful, letting his inner life unfold
freely. Suddenly, the chime of a distant bell recalls him
to himself, and in that awakening he feels more strongly
than before the peace and beauty of which he has been but
dimly conscious.

To stimulate life, — leaving it then free to develop, to
unfold, — herein lies the first task of the educator. In such
a delicate task, a great art must suggest the moment, and
limit the intervention, in order that we shall arouse no
perturbation, cause no deviation, but rather that we shall
help the soul which is coining into the fulness of life, and
which shall live from its oicn forces. This art must ac-
company the scientific method.

116 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

When the teacher shall have touched, in this way, soul
for soul, each one of her pupils, awakening and inspiring
the life within them as if she were an invisible spirit, she
will then possess each soul, and a sign, a single word from
her shall suffice; for each one will feel her in a living and
vital way, will recognise her and will listen to her. There
will come a day when the directress herself shall be filled
with wonder to see that all the children obey her with
gentleness and affection, not only ready, but intent, at a
sign from her. They will look toward her who has made
them live, and will hope and desire to receive from her,
new life.

Experience has revealed all this, and it is something
which forms the chief source of wonder for those who visit
the " Children's Houses." Collective discipline is ob-
tained as if by magic force. Fifty or sixty children from
two and a half years to six years of age, all together, and
at a single time know how to hold their peace so perfectly
that the absolute silence seems that of a desert. And, if
the teacher, speaking in a low voice, says to the children,
" Rise, pass several times around the room on the tips of
your toes and then come back to your place in silence "
all together, as a single person, the children rise, and fol-
low the order with the least possible noise. The teacher
with that one voice has spoken to each one ; and each child
hopes from her intervention to receive some light and inner
happiness. And feeling so, he goes forth intent and obedi-
ent like an anxious explorer, following the order in his own
way.

In this matter of discipline we have again something of
the egg of Christopher Columbus. A concert-master must

HOW LESSONS SHOULD BE GIVEN 117

prepare his scholars one by one in order to draw from their
collective work great and beautiful harmony; and each
artist must perfect himself as an individual before he can
be ready to follow the voiceless commands of the master's
baton.

How different is the method which we follow in the pub-
lic schools I It is as if a concert-master taught the same
monotonous and sometimes discordant rhythm contem-
poraneously to the most diverse instruments and voices.

Thus we find that the most disciplined members of
society are the men who are best trained, who have most
thoroughly perfected themselves, but this is the training
or the perfection acquired through contact with other peo-
ple. The perfection of the collectivity cannot be that
material and brutal solidarity which comes from mechan-
ical organisation alone.

In regard to infant psychology, we are more richly
endowed with prejudices than with actual knowledge bear-
ing upon the subject. We have, until the present day,
wished to dominate the child through force, by the im-
position of external laws, instead of making an interior
conquest of the child, in order to direct him as a human
soul. In this way, the children have lived beside us
without being able to make us know them. But if we
cut away the artificiality with which we have enwrapped
them, and the violence through which we have foolishly
thought to discipline them, they will reveal themselves to
us in all the truth of child nature.

Their gentleness is so absolute, so sweet, that we recog-
nise in it the infancy of that humanity which can remain
oppresed by every form of yoke, by every injustice; and
the child's love of knowledge is such that it surpasses every

118 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

other love and makes us think that in very truth humanity
must carry within it that passion which pushes the minds
of men to the successive conquest of thought, making easier
from century to century the yokes of every form of slav-
ery.

CHAPTEE VII

EXERCISES OF PRACTICAL LIFE

PROPOSED WINTER SCHEDULE OF HOURS IN THE
" CHILDREN'S HOUSES "

Opening at Nine O'clock — Closing at Four O'clock

9-10. Entrance. Greeting. Inspection as to personal
cleanliness. Exercises of practical life; helping one
another to take off and put on the aprons. Going over
the room to see that everything is dusted and in order.
Language : Conversation period : Children give an ac-
count of the events of the day before. Religious
exercises.

10-11. Intellectual exercises. Objective lessons inter-
rupted by short rest periods. Nomenclature, Sense ex-
ercises.

11-11:30. Simple gymnastics : Ordinary movements done
gracefully, normal position of the body, walking, march-
ing in line, salutations, movements for attention, placing
of objects gracefully.

11:30-12. Luncheon: Short prayer.

12-1. Free games.

1-2. Directed games, if possible, in the open air. During
this period the older children in turn go through with
the exercises of practical life, cleaning the room, dust-
ing, putting the material in order. General inspection
for cleanliness : Conversation.

119

120 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

2-3. Manual work. Clay modelling, design, etc.

3-4. Collective gymnastics and songs, if possible in the
open air. Exercises to develop forethought: Visit-
ing, and caring for, the plants and animals.

As soon as a school is established, the question of
schedule arises. This must be considered from two points
of view; the length of the school-day and the distribu-
tion of study and of the activities of life.

I shall begin by affirming that in the " Children's
Houses," as in the school for deficients, the hours may
be very long, occupying the entire day. For poor chil-
dren, and especially for the " Children's Houses " an-
nexed to workingmen's tenements, I should advise that
the school-day should be from nine in the morning to five
in the evening in winter, and from eight to six in summer.
These long hours are necessary, if we are to follow a
directed line of action which shall be helpful to the growth
of the child. It goes without saying, that in the case
of little children such a long school-day should be in-
terrupted by at least an hour's rest in bed. And here
lies the great practical difficulty. At present we must
allow our little ones to sleep in their seats in a wretched
position, but I foresee a time, not distant, when we shall
be able to have a quiet, darkened room where the children
may sleep in low-swung hammocks. I should like still
better to have this nap taken in the open air.

In the " Children's Houses " in Eome we send the little
ones to their own apartments for the nap, as this can be
done without their having to go out into the streets.

It must be observed that these long hours include not
only the nap, but the luncheon. This must be considered
in such schools as the " Children's Houses," whose aim is

EXEKCISES OF PRACTICAL LIFE 121

to help and to direct the growth of children in such an im-
portant period of development as that from three to six
years of age.

The " Children's House " is a garden of child culture,
and we most certainly do not keep the children for so
many hours in school with the idea of making students
of them!

The first step which we must take in our method is to
call to the pupil. We call now to his attention, now to his
interior life, now to the life he leads with others. Mak-
ing a comparison which must not he taken in a literal
sense, — it is necessary to proceed as in experimental
psychology or anthropology when one makes an experi-
ment,— that is, after having prepared the instrument (to
which in this case the environment may correspond) we
prepare the subject. Considering the method as a whole,
we must begin our work by preparing the child for the
forms of social life, and we must attract his attention to
these forms.

In the schedule which we outlined when we established
the first " Children's House," but which we have never
followed entirely, (a sign that a schedule in which the
material is distributed in arbitrary fashion is not adapted
to the regime of liberty) we begin the day with a series
of exercises of practical life, and I must confess that
these exercises were the only part of the programme which
proved thoroughly stationary. These exercises were such
a success that they formed the beginning of the day in
all of the " Children's Houses." First:

Cleanliness.

Order.

Poise.
Conversation.

122 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

As soon as the children arrive at school we make an
inspection for cleanliness. If possible, this should be
carried on in the presence of the mothers, but their at-
tention should not be called to it directly. We examine
the hands, the nails, the neck, the ears, the face, the
teeth; and care is given to the tidiness of the hair. If
any of the garments are torn or soiled or ripped, if the
buttons are lacking, or if the shoes are not clean, we call
the attention of the child to this. In this way, the chil-
dren become accustomed to observing themselves and take
an interest in their own appearance.

The children in our " Children's Houses " are given
a bath in turn, but this, of course, can not be done daily.
In the class, however, the teacher, by using a little wash-
stand with small pitchers and basins, teaches the children
to take a partial bath: for example, they learn how to
wash their hands and clean their nails. Indeed, sometimes
we teach them how to take a foot-bath. They are shown
especially how to wash their ears and eyes with great
care. They are taught to brush their teeth and rinse their
mouths carefully. In all of this, we call their attention
to the different parts of the body which they are wash-
ing, and to the different means which we use in order
to cleanse them: clear water for the eyes, soap and water
for the hands, the brush for the teeth, etc. We teach
the big ones to help the little ones, and, so, encourage the
younger children to learn quickly to take care of them-
selves.

After this care of their persons, we put on the little
aprons. The children are able to put these on themselves,
or, with the help of each other. Then we begin our
visit about the schoolroom. We notice if all of the vari-
ous materials are in order and if they are clean. The

EXERCISES OF PRACTICAL LIFE 123

teacher shows the children how to clean out the little
corners where dust has accumulated, and shows them how
to use the various objects necessary in cleaning a room,
— dust-cloths, dust-brushes, little brooms, etc. All of this,
when the children are allowed to do it ~by themselves, is
very quickly accomplished. Then the children go each
to his own place. The teacher explains to them that the
normal position is for each child to be seated in his own
place, in silence, with his feet together on the floor, his
hands resting on the table, and his head erect. In this
way she teaches them poise and equilibrium. Then she
has them rise on their feet in order to sing the hymn,
teaching them that in rising and sitting down it is not
necessary to be noisy. In this way the children learn to
move about the furniture with poise and with care.
After this we have a series of exercises in which the
children learn to move gracefully, to go and come, to
salute each other, to lift objects carefully, to receive vari-
ous objects from each other politely. The teacher calls
attention with little exclamations to a child who is clean,
a room which is well ordered, a class seated quietly, a
graceful movement, etc.

From such a starting point we proceed to the free teach-
ing. That is, the teacher will no longer make comments
to the children, directing them how to move from their
seats, etc., she will limit herself to correcting the dis-
ordered movements.

After the directress has talked in this way about the
attitude of the children and the arrangement of the room,
she invites the children to talk with her. She questions
them concerning what they have done the day before, reg-
ulating her inquiries in such a way that the children need
not report the intimate happenings of the family but their

124: THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

individual behaviour, their games, attitude to parents, etc.
She will ask if they have been able to go up the stairs
without getting them muddy, if they have spoken politely
to their friends who passed, if they have helped their
mothers, if they have shown in their family what they
have learned at school, if they have played in the street,
etc. The conversations are longer on Monday after the
vacation, and on that day the children are invited to tell
what they have done with the family; if they have gone
away from home, whether they have eaten things not usual
for children to eat, and if this is the case we urge them
not to eat these things and try to teach them that they
are bad for them. Such conversations as these encourage
the unfolding or development of language and are of
great educational value, since the directress can prevent
the children from recounting happenings in the house or
in the neighbourhood, and can select, instead, topics which
are adapted to pleasant conversation, and in this way can
teach the children those things which it is desirable to
talk about; that is, things with which we occupy our-
selves in life, public events, or things which have hap-
pened in the different houses, perhaps, to the children
themselves — as baptism, birthday parties, any of which
may serve for occasional conversation. Things of this
sort will encourage children to describe, themselves. After
this morning talk we pass to the various lessons.

CHAPTEK VIII
REFECTION — THE CHILD'S DIET

IN connection with the exercises of practical life, it
may be fitting to consider the matter of refection.

In order to protect the child's development, especially
in neighbourhoods where standards of child hygiene are
not yet prevalent in the home, it would be well if a
large part at least of the child's diet could be entrusted to
the school. It is well known to-day that the diet must
be adapted to the physical nature of the child; and as
the medicine of children is not the medicine of adults in
reduced doses, so the diet must not be that of the adult
in lesser quantitative proportions. For this reason I
should prefer that even in the " Children's Houses "
which are situated in tenements and from which little ones,
being at home, can go up to eat with the family, school
refection should be instituted. Moreover, even in the
case of rich children, school refection would always be
advisable until a scientific course in cooking shall have
introduced into the wealthier families the habit of special-
ising in children's food.

The diet of little children must be rich in fats and
sugar: the first for reserve matter and the second for
plastic tissue. In fact, sugar is a stimulant to tissues in
the process of formation.

As for the form of preparation, it is well that the
alimentary substances should always be minced, because

125

126 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

the child has not yet the capacity for completely masticat-
ing the food, and his stomach is still incapable of fulfilling
the function of mincing food matter.

Consequently, soups, purees, and meat balls, should
constitute the ordinary form of dish for the child's table.

The nitrogenous diet for a child from two or three
years of age ought to be constituted chiefly of milk and
eggs, but after the second year broths are also to be recom-
mended. After three years and a half meat can be given ;
or, in the case of poor children, vegetables. Eruits are
also to be recommended for children.

Perhaps a detailed summary on child diet may be use-
ful, especially for mothers.

Method of Preparing Broth for Little Children. (Age
three to six ; after that the child may use the common broth
of the family.) The quantity of meat should correspond
to 1 gramme for every cubic centimetre of broth and should
be put in cold water. No aromatic herbs should be
used, the only wholesome condiment being salt. The
meat should be left to boil for two hours. Instead of
removing the grease from the broth it is well to add butter
to it, or, in the case of the poor, a spoonful of olive oil;
but substitutes for butter, such as margerine, etc., should
never be used. The broth must be prepared fresh; it
would be well, therefore, to put the meat on the fire two
hours before the meal, because as soon as broth is cool
there begins to take place a separation of chemical sub-
stances, which are injurious to the child and may easily
cause diarrhea.

Soups. A very simple soup, and one to be highly
recommended for children, is bread boiled in salt water
or in broth and abundantly seasoned with oil. This is the
classic soup of poor children and an excellent means of

KEFECTIOJSF 127

nutrition. Very like this, is the soup which consists of
little cubes of bread toasted in butter and allowed to soak
in the broth which is itself fat with butter. Soups of
grated bread also belong in this class.

Pastine,* especially the glutinous pastine, which are
of the same nature, are undoubtedly superior to the others
for digestibility, but are accessible only to the privileged
social classes.

The poor should know how much more wholesome is
a broth made from remnants of stale bread, than soups
of coarse spaghetti — often dry and seasoned with meat
juice. Such soups are most indigestible for little chil-
dren.

Excellent soups are those consisting of purees of vege-
tables (beans, peas, lentils). To-day one may find in
the shops dried vegetables especially adapted for this sort
of soups. Boiled in salt water, the vegetables are peeled,
put to cool and passed through a sieve (or simply com-
pressed, if they are already peeled). Butter is then
added, and the paste is stirred slowly into the boiling
water, care being taken that it dissolves and leaves no
lumps.

Vegetable soups can also be seasoned with pork. In-
stead of broth, sugared milk may be the base of vegetable
purees.

I strongly recommend for children a soup of rice
boiled in broth or milk; also cornmeal broth, provided
it be seasoned with abundant butter, but not with cheese.
(The porridge form — polenta, really cornmeal mush,
is to be highly recommended on account of the long
cooking. )

The poorer classes who have no meat-broth can feed
* Those very fine forms of vermicelli used in soups.

128 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

their children equally well with soups of boiled bread
and porridge seasoned with oil.

Milk and Eggs. These are foods which not only con-
tain nitrogenous substances in an eminently digestible
form, but they have the so-called enzymes which facilitate
assimilation into the tissues, and, hence, in a particular
way, favour the growth of the child. And they an-
swer so much the better this last most important con-
dition if they are fresh and intact, keeping in themselves,
one may say, the life of the animals which produced them.

Milk fresh from the cow, and the egg while it is still
warm, are assimilable to the highest degree. Cooking, on
the other hand, makes the milk and eggs lose their special
conditions of assimilability and reduces the nutritive
power in them to the simple power of any nitrogenous
substance.

To-day, consequently, there are being founded special
dairies for children where the milk produced is sterile;
the rigorous cleanliness of the surroundings in which the
milk-producing animals live, the sterilisation of the
udder before milking, of the hands of the milker, and
of the vessels which are to contain the milk, the hermetic
sealing of these last, and the refrigerating bath imme-
diately after the milking, if the milk is to be carried
far,' — otherwise it is well to drink it warm, procure a
milk free from bacteria which, therefore, has no need
of being sterilised by boiling, and which preserves intact
its natural nutritive powers.

As much may be said of eggs; the best way of feed-
ing them to a child is to take them still warm from the
hen and have him eat them just as they are, and then
digest them in the open air. But where this is not prac-

REFECTION 129

ticable, eggs must be chosen fresh, and barely heated in
water, that is to say, prepared a la coque.

All other forms of preparation, milk-soup, omelettes, and
so forth, do, to be sure, make of milk and eggs an excel-
lent food, more to be recommended than others; but they
take away the specific properties of assimilation which
characterise them.

Meat. All meats are not adapted to children, and
even their preparation must differ according to the age
of the child. Thus, for example, children from three to
five years of age ought to eat only more or less finely-
ground meats, whereas at the age of five children are
capable of grinding meat completely by mastication; at
that time it is well to teach the child accurately how to
masticate because he has a tendency to swallow food
quickly, which may produce indigestion and diarrhea.

This is another reason why school-refection in the
" Children's Houses " would be a very serviceable as well
as convenient institution, as the whole diet of the child
could then be rationally cared for in connection with the
educative system of the Houses.

The meats most adapted to children are so-called white
meats, that is, in the first place, chicken, then veal; also
the light flesh of fish, (sole, pike, cod).

After the age of four, filet of beef may also be intro-
duced into the diet, but never heavy and fat meats like
that of the pig, the capon, the eel, the tunny, etc., which
are to be absolutely excluded along with mollusks and
crustaceans, (oysters, lobsters), from the child's diet.

Croquettes made of finely ground meat, grated bread,
milk, and beaten eggs, and fried in butter, are the most
wholesome preparation. Another excellent preparation

130 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

is to mould into balls the grated meat, with sweet fruit-
preserve, and eggs beaten up with sugar.

At the age of five, the child may be given breast of
roast fowl, and occasionally veal cutlet or filet of beef.

Boiled meat must never be given to the child, because
meat is deprived of many stimulating and even nutritive
properties by boiling and rendered less digestible.

Nerve Feeding Substances. Besides meat a child who
has reached the age of four may be given fried brains
and sweetbreads, to be combined, for example, with
chicken croquettes.

Milk Foods. All cheeses are to be excluded from the
child's diet.

The only milk product suitable to children from three
to six years of age is fresh butter.

Custard. Custard is also to be recommended provided
it be freshly prepared, that is immediately before being
eaten, and with very fresh milk and eggs: if such condi-
tions cannot be rigorously fulfilled, it is preferable to do
without custard, which is not a necessity.

Bread. From what we have said about soups, it may
be inferred that bread is an excellent food for the child.
It should be well selected; the crumb is not very digest-
ible, but it can be utilised, when it is dry, to make a
bread broth; but if one is to give the child simply a
piece of bread to eat, it is well to offer him the crust, the
end of the loaf. Bread sticks are excellent for those
who can afford them.

Bread contains many nitrogenous substances and is
very rich in starches, but is lacking in fats; and as the
fundamental substances of diet are, as is well known,
three in number, namely, proteids, (nitrogenous sub-
stances), starches, and fats, bread is not a complete food;

REFECTION 131

it is necessary therefore to offer the child buttered bread,
which constitutes a complete food and may be considered
as a sufficient and complete breakfast.

Green Vegetables. Children must never eat raw vege-
tables, such as salads and greens, but only cooked ones ; in-
deed they are not to be highly recommended either cooked
or raw, with the exception of spinach which may enter with
moderation into the diet of children.

Potatoes prepared in a puree with much butter form,
however, an excellent complement of nutrition for chil-
dren.

Fruits. Among fruits there are excellent foods for
children. They too, like milk and eggs, if freshly gath-
ered, retain a living quality which aids assimilation.

As this condition, however, is not easily attainable in
cities, it is necessary to consider also the diet of fruits
which are not perfectly fresh and which, therefore, should
be prepared and cooked in various ways. All fruits are
not to be advised for children; the chief properties to
be considered are the degree of ripeness^ the tenderness
and sweetness of the pulp, and its acidity. Peaches,
apricots, grapes, currants, oranges, and mandarins, in
their natural state, can be given to little children with
great advantage. Other fruits, such as pears, apples,
plums, should be cooked or prepared in syrup.

Figs, pineapples, dates, melons, cherries, walnuts, al-
monds, hazelnuts, and chestnuts, are excluded for various
reasons from the diet of early childhood.

The preparation of fruit must consist in removing from
it all indigestible parts, such as the peel, and also such
parts as the child inadvertently may absorb to his detri-
ment, as, for example, the seed.

Children of four or five should be taught early how

132 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

carefully the seeds must be thrown away and how the fruits
are peeled. Afterwards, the child so educated may be
promoted to the honour of receiving a fine fruit intact,
and he will know how to eat it properly.

The culinary preparation of fruits consists essentially
in two processes: cooking, and seasoning with sugar.

Besides simple cooking, fruits may be prepared as mar-
malades and jellies, which are excellent but are naturally
within the reach of the wealthier classes only. While
jellies and marmalades may be allowed, candied fruits, —
on the other hand, — marrons glaces, and the like, are ab-
solutely excluded from the child's diet.

Seasonings. An important phase of the hygiene of
child diet concerns seasonings — with a view to their
rigorous limitation. As I have already indicated, sugar
and some fat substances along with kitchen salt (sodium
chloride) should constitute the principal part of the sea-
sonings.

To these may be added organic acids (acetic acid, citric
acid) that is, vinegar and lemon juice; this latter can
be advantageously used on fish, on croquettes, on spinach,
etc.

Other condiments suitable to little children are some
aromatic vegetables like garlic and rue which disinfect
the intestines and the lungs, and also have a direct
anthelminthic action.

Spices, on the other hand, such as pepper, nutmeg,
cinnamon, clove, and especially mustard, are to be abso-
lutely abolished.

Drinks. The growing organism of the child is very
rich in water, and, hence, needs a constant supply of
moisture. Among the beverages, the best, and indeed the
only one, to be unreservedly advised is pure fresh spring

REFECTION 133

water. To rich children might be allowed the so-called
table waters which are slightly alkaline, such as those
of San Gemini, Acqua Claudia, etc., mixed with syrups,
as, for example, syrup of black cherry.

It is now a matter of general knowledge that all fer-
mented beverages, and those exciting to the nervous sys-
tem, are injurious to children; hence, all alcoholic and
caffeic beverages are absolutely eliminated from child diet.
Not only liquors, but wine and beer, ought to be unknown
to the child's taste, and coffee and tea should be inac-
cessible to childhood.

The deleterious action of alcohol on the child organism
needs no illustration, but in a matter of such vital im-
portance insistent repetition is never superfluous. Al-
cohol is a poison especially fatal to organisms in the proc-
ess of formation. Not only does it arrest their total
development (whence infantilism, idiocy), but also pre-
disposes the child to nervous maladies (epilepsy, men-
ingitis), and to maladies of the digestive organs, and
metabolism (cirrhosis of the liver, dyspepsia, ansemia).

If the " Children's Houses " were to succeed in en-
lightening the people on such truths, they would be ac-
complishing a very lofty hygienic work for the new
generations.

Instead of coffee, children may be given roasted and
boiled barley, malt, and especially chocolate which is an
excellent child food, particularly when mixed with milk.

DISTRIBUTION OF THE MEALS

Another chapter of child diet concerns the distribution
of the meals. Here, one principle must dominate, and
must be diffused, among mothers, namely, that the chil-
dren shall be kept to rigorous meal hours in order that

134 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

they may enjoy good health and have excellent digestion.
It is true that there prevails among the people (and it
is one of the forms of maternal ignorance most fatal to
children) the prejudice that children in order to grow
well must he eating almost continuously, without regu-
larity, nibbling almost habitually a crust of bread. On
the contrary, the child, in view of the special delicacy
of his digestive system, has more need of regular meals
than the adult has. It seems to me that the " Children's
Houses " with very prolonged programmes are, for this
reason, suitable places for child culture, as they can direct
the child's diet. Outside of their regular meal hours,
children should not eat.

In a " Children's House " with a long programme there
ought to be two meals, a hearty one about noon, and a
light one about four in the afternoon.

At the hearty meal, there should be soup, a meat dish,
and bread, and, in the case of rich children, also fruits
or custard, and butter on the bread.

At the four o'clock meal there should be prepared a
light lunch, which from a simple piece of bread can range to
buttered bread, and to bread accompanied by a fruit marma-
lade, chocolate, honey, custard, etc. Crisp crackers, bis-
cuits, and cooked fruits, etc., might also be usefully em-
ployed. Very suitably the lunch might consist of bread
soaked in milk or an egg a la coque with bread sticks, or else
of a simple cup of milk in which is dissolved a spoonful of
Mellin's Food. I recommend Mellin's Food very highly,
not only in infancy, but also much later on account of
its properties of digestibility and nutrition, and on ac-
count of its flavour, which is so pleasing to children.

Mellin's Eood is a powder prepared from barley and
wheat, and containing in a concentrated and pure state the

KEFECTION 135

nutritive substances proper to those cereals; the powder
is slowly dissolved in hot water in the bottom of the same
cup which is to be used for drinking the mixture, and
very fresh milk is then poured on top.

The child would take the other two meals in his own
home, that is, the morning breakfast and the supper, which
latter must be very light for children so that shortly after
they may be ready to go to bed. On these meals it would
be well to give advice to mothers, urging them to help
complete the hygienic work of the " Children's Houses,"
to the profit of their children.

The morning breakfast for the rich might be milk and
chocolate, or milk and extract of malt, with crackers,
or, better, with toasted bread spread with butter or honey ;
for the poor, a cup of fresh milk, with 'bread.

For the evening meal, a soup is to be advised (chil-
dren should eat soups twice a day), and an egg a la coque
or a cup of milk; or rice soup with a base of milk, and
buttered bread, with cooked fruits, etc.

As for the alimentary rations to be calculated, I refer
the reader to the special treatises on hygiene: although
practically such calculations are of no great utility.

In the " Children's Houses," especially in the case of
the poor, I should make extensive use of the vegetable
soups and I should have cultivated in the garden plots
vegetables which can be used in the diet, in order to have
them plucked in their freshness, cooked, and enjoyed. I
should try, possibly, to do the same for the fruits, and,
by the raising of animals, to have fresh eggs and pure
milk. The milking of the goats could be done directly
by the larger children, after they had scrupulously washed
their hands. Another important educative application

136 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

which school-refection in the " Children's Houses " has
to offer, and which concerns " practical life," consists in
the preparing of the table, arranging the table linen,
learning its nomenclature, etc. Later, I shall show how
this exercise can gradually increase in difficulty and con-
stitute a most important didactic instrument.

It is sufficient to intimate here that it is very important
to teach the children to eat with cleanliness, both with
respect to themselves and with respect to their surround-
ings (not to soil the napkins, etc.), and to use the table
implements (which, at least, for the little ones, are limited
to the spoon, and for the larger children extended to the
fork and knife).

CHAPTER IX
MUSCULAR EDUCATION — GYMNASTICS

THE generally accepted idea of gymnastics is, I con-
sider, very inadequate. In the common schools we are
accustomed to describe as gymnastics a species of collective
muscular discipline which has as its aim that children
shall learn to follow definite ordered movements given in
the form of commands. The guiding spirit in such gym-
nastics is coercion, and I feel that such exercises repress
spontaneous movements and impose others in their place.
I do not know what the psychological authority for the
selection of these imposed movements is. Similar move-
ments are used in medical gymnastics in order to restore
a normal movement to a torpid muscle or to give back a
normal movement to a paralysed muscle. A number
of chest movements which are given in the school are ad-
vised, for example, in medicine for those who suffer from
intestinal torpidity, but truly I do not well understand
what office such exercises can fulfil when they are fol-
lowed by squadrons of normal children. In addition to
these formal gymnastics we have those which are carried
on in a gymnasium, and which are very like the first steps
in the training of an acrobat. However, this is not the
place for criticism of the gymnastics used in our common
schools. Certainly in our case we are not considering
such gymnastics. Indeed, many who hear me speak of
gymnastics for infant schools very plainly show disap-

137

138 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

probation and they will disapprove more heartily when
they hear me speak of a gymnasium for little children.
Indeed, if the gymnastic exercises and the gymnasium
were those of the common schools, no one would agree
more heartily than I in the disapproval expressed by these
critics.

We must understand by gymnastics and in general by
muscular education a series of exercises tending to aid
the normal development of physiological movements
(such as walking, breathing, speech), to protect this de-
velopment, when the child shows himself backward or
abnormal in any way, and to encourage in the children
those movements which are useful in the achievement of
the most ordinary acts of life; such as dressing, un-
dressing, buttoning their clothes and lacing their shoes,
carrying such objects as balls, cubes, etc. If there exists
an age in which it is necessary to protect a child by means
of a series of gymnastic exercises, between three and six
years is undoubtedly the age. The special gymnastics
necessary, or, better still, hygienic, in this period of life,
refer chiefly to walking. A child in the general mor-
phological growth of his body is characterised by having
a torso greatly developed in comparison with the lower
limbs. In the new-born child the length of the torso,
from the top of the head to the curve of the groin, is
equal to 68 per cent of the total length of the body. The
limbs then are barely 32 per cent of the stature. During
growth these relative proportions change in a most notice-
able way; thus, for example, in the adult the torso is
fully half of the entire stature and, according to the in-
dividual, corresponds to 51 or 52 per cent of it.

This morphological difference between the new-born
child and the .adult is bridged so slowly during growth

MUSCULAK EDUCATION 139

that in the first years of the child's life the torso still
remains tremendously developed as compared with the
limbs. In one year the height of the torso corresponds
to 65 per cent of the total stature, in two years to 63,
in three years to 62.

At the age when a child enters the infant school his
limbs are still very short as compared with his torso;
that is, the length of his limbs barely corresponds to 38
per cent of the stature. Between the years of six and
seven the proportion of the torso to the stature is from
57 to 56 per cent. In such a period therefore the child
not only makes a noticeable growth in height, (he meas-
ures indeed at the age of three years about 0.85 metre and
at six years 1.05 metres) but, changing so greatly the rel-
ative proportions between the torso and the limbs, the
latter make a most decided growth. This growth is re-
lated to the layers of cartilage which still exist at the
extremity of the long bones and is related in general to
the still incomplete ossification of the- entire skeleton.
The tender bones of the limbs must therefore sustain the
weight of the torso which is then disproportionately large.
We cannot, if we consider all these things, judge the
manner of walking in little children by the standard set
for our own equilibrium. If a child is not strong, the
erect posture and walking are really sources of fatigue
for him, and the long bones of the lower limbs, yielding
to the weight of the body, easily become deformed and
usually bowed. This is particularly the case among the
badly nourished children of the poor, or among those
in whom the skeleton structure, while not actually show-
ing the presence of rickets, still seems to be slow in attain-
ing normal ossification.

We are wrong then if we consider little children from

140 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

this physical point of view as little men. They have,
instead, characteristics and proportions that are entirely
special to their age. The tendency of the child to stretch
out on his back and kick his legs in the air is an expres-
sion of physical needs related to the proportions of his
body. The baby loves to walk on all fours just because,
like the quadruped animals, his limbs are short in com-
parison with his body. Instead of this, we divert these
natural manifestations by foolish habits which we impose
on the child. We hinder him from throwing himself on
the earth, from stretching, etc., and we oblige him to
walk with grown people and to keep up with them; and
excuse ourselves by saying that we don't want him to be-
come capricious and think he can do as he pleases! It
is indeed a fatal error and one which has made bow-legs
common among little children. It is well to enlighten
the mothers on these important particulars of infant hy-
giene. Now we, with the gymnastics, can, and, indeed,
should, help the child in his development by making our
exercises correspond to the movement which he needs to
make, and in this way save his limbs from fatigue.

One very simple means for helping the child in his
activity was suggested to me by my observation of the
children themselves. The teacher was having the chil-
dren march, leading them about the courtyard between
the walls of the house and the central garden. This
garden was protected by a little fence made of strong
wires which were stretched in parallel lines, and were
supported at intervals by wooden palings driven into the
ground. Along the fence, ran a little ledge on which
the children were in the habit of sitting down when they
were tired of marching. In addition to this, I always
brought out little chairs, which I placed against the wall.

MUSCULAK EDUCATION 141

Every now and then, the little ones of two and one half
and three years would drop out from the marching line,
evidently heing tired; but instead of sitting down on the
ground or on the chairs, they would run to the little fence
and catching hold of the upper line of wire they would
walk along sideways, resting their feet on the wire which
was nearest the ground. That this gave them a great
deal of pleasure, was evident from the way in which they
laughed as, with bright eyes, they watched their larger
companions who were marching about. The truth was
that these little ones had solved one of my problems in a
very practical way. They moved themselves along on the
wires, pulling their bodies sideways. In this way, they
moved their limbs without throwing upon them the weight
of the body. Such an apparatus placed in the gymnasium
for little children, will enable them to fulfil the need which
they feel of throwing themselves on the floor and kicking
their legs in the air; for the movements they make on
the little fence correspond even more correctly to the same
physical needs. Therefore, I advise the manufacture of
this little fence for use in children's playrooms. It can
be constructed of parallel bars supported by upright poles
firmly fixed on to the heavy base. The children, while
playing upon this little fence, will be able to look out
and see with great pleasure what the other children are do-
ing in the room.

Other pieces of gymnasium apparatus can be con-
structed upon the same plan, that is, having as their aim
the furnishing of the child with a proper outlet for his
individual activities. One of the things invented by
Seguin to develop the lower limbs, and especially to
strengthen the articulation of the knee in weak children,
is the trampolino.

142 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

This is a kind of swing, having a very wide seat, so
wide, indeed, that the limbs of the child stretched out in
front of him are entirely supported by this broad seat.
This little chair is hung from strong cords and is left
swinging. The wall in front of it is reinforced by a
strong smooth board against which the children press their
feet in pushing themselves back and forth in the swing.
The child seated in this swing exercises his limbs, press-
ing his feet against the board each time that he swings
toward the wall. The board against which he swings may
be erected at some distance from the wall, and may be
so low that the child can see over the top of it. As he
swings in this chair, he strengthens his limbs through the
species of gymnastics limited to the lower limbs, and
this he does without resting the weight of his body upon
his legs. Other pieces of gymnastic apparatus, less im-
portant from the hygienic standpoint, but very amusing
to the children, may be described briefly. " The Pendu-
lum," a game which may be played by one child or by
several, consists of rubber balls hung on a cord. The
children seated in their little armchairs strike the ball,
sending it from one to another. It is an exercise for the
arms and for the spinal column, and is at the same time
an exercise in which the eye gauges the distance of bodies
in motion. Another game, called " The Cord/' consists
of a line, drawn on the earth with chalk, along which the
children walk. This helps to order and to direct their
free movements in a given direction. A game like this is
very pretty, indeed, after a snowfall, when the little path
made by the children shows the regularity of the line
they have traced, and encourages a pleasant war among
them in which each one tries to make his line in the snow
the most regular.

MUSCULAR EDUCATION 143

The little round stair is another game, in which a little
wooden stairway, built on the plan of the spiral, is used.
This little stair is enclosed on one side by a balustrade
on which the children can rest their hands. The other
side is open and circular. This serves to habituate the
children to climbing and descending stairs without hold-
ing on to the balustrade, and teaches them to move up and
down with movements that are poised and self -controlled.
The steps must be very low and very shallow. Going
up and down on this little stair, the very smallest chil-
dren can learn movements which they cannot follow prop-
erly in climbing ordinary stairways in their homes, in
which the proportions are arranged for adults.

Another piece of gymnasium apparatus, adapted for
the broad-jump, consists of a low wooden platform painted
with various lines, by means of which the distance
jumped may be gauged. There is a small flight of stairs
which may be used in connection with this plane, making
it possible to practise and to measure the high- jump.

I also believe that rope-ladders may be so adapted as
to be suitable for use in schools for little children. Used
in pairs, these would, it seems to me, help to perfect a
great variety of movements, such as kneeling, rising, bend-
ing forward and backward, etc. ; movements which the
child, without the help of the ladder, could not make with-
out losing his equilibrium. All of these movements are
useful in that they help the child to acquire, first, equilib-
rium, then that co-ordination of the muscular movements
necessary to him. They are, moreover, helpful in that
they increase the chest expansion. Besides all this, such
movements as I have described, reinforce the hand in its
most primitive and essential action, prehension; — the
movement which necessarily precedes all the finer move-

144 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

ments of the hand itself. Such apparatus was success-
fully used by Seguin to develop the general strength and
the movement of prehension in his idiotic children.

The gymnasium, therefore, offers a field for the most
varied exercises, tending to establish the co-ordination of
the movements common in liTe, such as walking, throwing
objects, going up and down stairs, kneeling, rising, jump-
ing, etc.

FREE GYMNASTICS

By free gymnastics I mean those which are given with-
out any apparatus. Such gymnastics are divided into
two classes: directed and required exercises, and free
games. In the first class, I recommend the march, the
object of which should be not rhythm, but poise only.
When the march is introduced, it is well to accompany it
with the singing of little songs, because this furnishes a
breathing exercise very helpful in strengthening the lungs.
Besides the march, many of the games of Froebel which
are accompanied by songs, .very similar to those which
the children constantly play among themselves, may be
used. In the free games, we furnish the children with
balls, hoops, bean bags and kites. The trees readily offer
themselves to the game of " Pussy wants a corner," and
many simple games of tag.

EDUCATIONAL GYMNASTICS

Under the name of educational gymnastics, we include
two series of exercises which really form a part of other
school work, as, for instance, the cultivation of the earth,
the care of plants and animals (watering and pruning
the plants, carrying the grain to the chickens, etc.). These
activities call for various co-ordinated movements, as, for

DR. MONTESSORI IN THE GARDEN OF THE SCHOOL AT VIA GIUSTI

(A) CHILDREN THREE AND ONE-HALF AND FOUR YEARS OLD LEARNING

TO BUTTON AND LACE. <B) RIBBON AND BUTTON FRAMES. These are

among the earliest exercises.

MUSCULAE EDUCATION 145

example, in hoeing, in getting down to plant things, and
in rising; the trips which children make in carrying
objects to some definite place, and in making a definite
practical use of these objects, offer a field for very valu-
able gymnastic exercises. The scattering of minute
objects, such as corn and oats, is valuable, and also the
exercise of opening and closing the gates to the garden and
to the chicken yard. All of these exercises are the more
valuable in that they are carried on in the open air.
Among our educational gymnastics we have exercises to
develop co-ordinated movements of the fingers, and these
prepare the children for the exercises of practical life,
such as dressing and undressing themselves. The di-
dactic material which forms the basis of these last named
gymnastics is very simple, consisting of wooden frames,
each mounted with two pieces of cloth, or leather, to be
fastened and unfastened by means of the buttons and
buttonholes, hooks and eyes, eyelets and lacings, or auto-
matic fastenings.

In our " Children's Houses " we use ten of these frames,
so constructed that each one of them illustrates a different
process in dressing or undressing.

One: mounted with heavy pieces of wool which are
to be fastened by means of large bone buttons — cor-
responds to children's dresses.

Two : mounted with pieces of linen to be fastened with
pearl buttons — corresponds to a child's underwear.

Three : leather pieces mounted with shoe buttons —
in fastening these leather pieces the children make use
of the button-hook — corresponds to a child's shoes.

Four: pieces of leather which are laced together by
means of eyelets and shoe laces.

Five: two pieces of cloth to be laced together. (These

146 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

pieces are boned and therefore correspond to the little
bodices worn by the peasants in Italy.)

Six: two pieces of stuff to be fastened by means of
large hooks and eyes.

Seven: two pieces of linen to be fastened by means of
small hooks and worked eyelets.

Eight: two pieces of cloth to be fastened by means of
broad coloured ribbon, which is to be tied into bows.

Nine: pieces of cloth laced together with round cord,
on the same order as the fastenings on many of the chil-
dren's underclothes.

Ten: two pieces to be fastened together by means of
the modern automatic fasteners.

Through the use of such toys, the children can prac-
tically analyse the movements necessary in dressing and
undressing themselves, and can prepare themselves sep-
arately for these movements by means of repeated exer-
cises. We succeed in teaching the child to dress himself
without his really being aware of it, that is, without any
direct or arbitrary command we have led him to this
mastery. As soon as he knows how to do it, he begins
to wish to make a practical application of his ability, and
very soon he will be proud of being sufficient unto him-
self, and will take delight in an ability which makes his
body free from the hands of others, and which leads him
the sooner to that modesty and activity which develops
far too late in those children of to-day who are deprived
of this most practical form of education. The fastening
games are very pleasing to the little ones, and often when
ten of them are using the frames at the same time, seated
around the little tables, quiet and serious, they give the
impression of a workroom filled with tiny workers.

MUSCULAR EDUCATION 147

RESPIRATORY GYMNASTICS

The purpose of these gymnastics is to regulate the res-
piratory movements: in other words, to teach the art of
breathing. They also help greatly the correct formation
of the child's speech habits. The exercises which we use
were introduced into school literature by Professor Sala.
We have chosen the simple exercises described by him in
his treatise, " Cura della Balbuzie." * These include a
number of respiratory gymnastic exercises with which are
co-ordinated muscular exercises. I give here an example :

Mouth wide open, tongue held flat, hands on hips.

Breathe deeply, lift the shoulders rapidly, lowering the
diaphragm.

Expel breath slowly, lowering shoulders slowly, return-
ing to normal position.

The directress should select or devise simple breathing
exercises, to be accompanied with arm movements, etc.

Exercises for proper use of lips, tongue,, and teeth.
These exercises teach the movements of the lips and tongue
in the pronunciation of certain fundamental consonant
sounds, reinforcing the muscles, and making them ready
for these movements. These gymnastics prepare the or-
gans used in the formation of language.

In presenting such exercises we begin with the entire
class, but finish by testing the children individually. We
ask the child to pronounce, aloud and with force, the first
syllable of a word. When all are intent upon putting the
greatest possible force into this, we call each child sepa-
rately, and have him repeat the word. If he pronounces

* " Cura della Balbuzie e dei Difetti di Pronunzia." Sala. Ulrico
Hoepli, publisher, Milan, Italy.

148 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

it correctly, we send him to the right, if badly, to the left.
Those who have difficulty with the word, are then encour-
aged to repeat it several times. The teacher takes note
of the age of the child, and of the particular defects in
the movements of the muscles used in articulating. She
may then touch the muscles which should be used, tapping,
for example, the curve of the lips, or even taking hold of
the child's tongue and placing it against the dental arch,
or showing him clearly the movements which she herself
makes when pronouncing the syllable. She must seek in
every way to aid the normal development of the move-
ments necessary to the exact articulation of the word.

As the basis for these gymnastics we have the children
pronounce the words : pane — fame — tana — zina —
stella — rana — gatto.

In the pronunciation of pane, the child should repeat
with much force, pa, pa, pa, thus exercising the muscles
producing orbicular contraction of the lips.

In fame repeating fa, fa, fa, the child exercises the
movements of the lower lip against the upper dental arch.

In tana, having him repeat ta, ta, ta, we cause him to
exercise the movement of the tongue against the upper
dental arch.

In zina, we provoke the contact of the upper and lower
dental arches.

With stella we have him repeat the whole word, bring-
ing the teeth together, and holding the tongue (which has
a tendency to protrude) close against the upper teeth.

In rana we have him repeat r, r, r, thus exercising the
tongue in the vibratory movements. In gatto we hold
the voice upon the guttural g.

CHAPTEK X

NATURE IN EDUCATION — AGRICULTURAL LABOUR : CUL-
TURE OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

ITARD, in a remarkable pedagogical treatise: " Des
premiers developpements du jeune sauvage de I'Aveyron"
expounds in detail the drama of a curious, gigantic edu-
catior? which attempted to overcome the psychical darkness
of an idiot and at the same time to snatch a man from
primitive nature.

The savage of the Aveyron was a child who had grown
up in the natural state: criminally abandoned in a forest
where his assassins thought they had killed him, he was
cured by natural means, and had survived for many years
free and naked in the wilderness, until, captured by hunt-
ers, he entered into the civilised life of Paris, showing by
the scars with which his miserable body was furrowed the
story of the struggles with wild beasts, and of lacerations
caused by falling from heights.

The child was, and always remained, mute; his men-
tality, diagnosed by Pinel as idiotic, remained forever al-
most inaccessible to intellectual education.

To this child are due the first steps of positive pedagogy.
Itard, a physician of deaf-mutes and a student of philoso-
phy, undertook his education with methods which he had
already partially tried for treating defective hearing —
believing at the beginning that the savage showed char-

149

150 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

acteristics of inferiority, not because lie was a degraded
organism, but for want of education. He was a follower
of the principles of Helvetius : " Man is nothing with-
out the work of man " ; that is, he believed in the omnipo-
tence of education, and was opposed to the pedagogical
principle which Rousseau had promulgated before the
Revolution : " Tout est bien sortant des mains de I'Auteur
des clioses, tout degenere dans les mains de I'liomme," —
that is, the work of education is deleterious and spoils the
man.

The savage, according to the erroneous first impression
of Itard, demonstrated experimentally by his character-
istics the truth of the former assertion. When, however,
he perceived, with the help of Pinel, that he had to do
with an idiot, his philosophical theories gave place to the
most admirable, tentative, experimental pedagogy.

Itard divides the education of the savage into two parts.
In the first, he endeavours to lead the child from natural
life to social life ; and in the second, he attempts the intel-
lectual education of the idiot. The child in his life of
frightful abandonment had found one happiness ; he had,
so to speak, immersed himself in, and unified himself
with, nature, taking delight in it — rains, snow, tempests,
boundless space, had been his sources of entertainment, his
companions, his love. Civil life is a renunciation of all
this : but it is an acquisition beneficent to human progress.
In Itard' s pages we find vividly described the moral work
which led the savage to civilisation, multiplying the needs
of the child and surrounding him with loving care. Here
is a sample of the admirably patient work of Itard as ob-
server of the spontaneous expressions of his pupil : it can
most truly give teachers, who are to prepare for the experi-
mental method, an idea of the patience and the self-ab-

NATURE IN EDUCATION 151

negation necessary in dealing with a phenomenon which
is to be observed:

" When, for example, he was observed within his room,
he was seen to be lounging with oppressive monotony,
continually directing his eyes toward the window, with his
gaze wandering in the void. If on such occasions a sud-
den storm blew up, if the sun, hidden behind the clouds,
peeped out of a sudden, lighting the atmosphere brilliantly,
there were loud bursts of laughter and almost convulsive
joy. Sometimes, instead of these expressions of joy, there
was a sort of frenzied rage : he would twist his arms, put
his clenched fists upon his eyes, gnashing his teeth and
becoming dangerous to those about him.

" One morning, when the snow fell abundantly while he
was still in bed, he uttered a cry of joy upon awaking,
leaped from his bed, ran to the window and then to the
door; went and came impatiently from one to the other;
then ran out undressed as he was into the garden. There,
giving vent to his joy with the shrillest of cries, he ran,
rolled in the snow, gathered it up in handfuls, and swal-
lowed it with incredible avidity.

" But his sensations at sight of the great spectacles of
nature did not always manifest themselves in such a vivid
and noisy manner. It is worthy of note that in certain
cases they were expressed by a quiet regret and melan-
choly. Thus, it was when the rigour of the weather drove
everybody from the garden that the savage of the Aveyron
chose to go there. He would walk around it several times
and finally sit down upon the edge of the fountain.

" I have often stopped for whole hours, and with in-
describable pleasure, to watch him as he sat thus — to see
how his face, inexpressive or contracted by grimaces, grad-
ually assumed an expression of sadness, and of melancholy

152 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

reminiscence, while his eyes were fixed upon the surface
of the water into which from time to time he would throw
a few dead leaves.

" If when there was a full moon, a sheaf of mild beams
penetrated into his room, he rarely failed to wake and to
take his place at the window. He would remain there for
a large part of the night, erect, motionless, with his head
thrust forward, his eyes fixed on the countryside lighted
by the moon, plunged in a sort of contemplative ecstasy,
the immobility and silence of which were only interrupted
at long intervals by a breath as deep as a sigh, which died
away in a plaintive sound of lamentation."

Elsewhere, Itard relates that the boy did not know the
walking gait which we use in civilised life, but only the
running gait, and tells how he, Itard, ran after him at
the beginning, when he took him out into the streets of
Paris, rather than violently check the boy's running.

The gradual and gentle leading of the savage through
all the manifestations of social life, the early adaptation
of the teacher to the pupil rather than of the pupil to the
teacher, the successive attraction to a new life which was
to win over the child by its charms, and not be imposed
upon him violently so that the pupil should feel it as a
burden and a torture, are as many precious educative ex-
pressions which may be generalised and applied to the edu-
cation of children.

I believe that there exists no document which offers so
poignant and so eloquent a contrast between the life of
nature and the life of society, and which so graphically
shows that society is made up solely of renunciations and
restraints. Let it suffice to recall the run, checked to a
walk, and the loud-voiced cry, checked to the modulations
of the ordinary speaking voice.

1STATUKE IN EDUCATION 153

And, yet, without any violence, leaving to social life the
task of charming the child little by little, Itard's education
triumphs. It is true that civilised life is made by renun-
ciation of the life of nature ; it is almost the snatching of
a man from the lap of earth ; it is like snatching the new-
born child from its mother's breast; but it is also a new
life.

In Itard's pages we see the final triumph of the love of
man over the love of nature: the savage of the Aveyron
ends by feeling and preferring the affection of Itard, the
caresses, the tears shed over him, to the joy of immersing
himself voluptuously in the snow, and of contemplating
the infinite expanse of the sky on a starry night : one day
after an attempted escape into the country, he returns of
his own accord, humble and repentant, to find his good
soup and his warm bed.

It is true that man has created enjoyments in social
life and has brought about a vigorous human love in com-
munity life. But nevertheless he still belongs to nature,
and, especially when he is a child, he must needs draw from
it the forces necessary to the development of the body and
of the spirit. We have intimate communicati'ons with na-
ture which have an influence, even a material influence,
on the growth of the body. (For example, a physiologist,
isolating young guinea pigs from terrestrial magnetism
by means of insulators, found that they grew up with
rickets.)

In the education of little children Itard's educative
drama is repeated: we must prepare man, who is one
among the living creatures and therefore belongs to nature,
for social life, because social life being his own peculiar
work, must also correspond to the manifestation of his
natural activity.

154 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

But the advantages which we prepare for him in this
social life, in a great measure escape the little child, who
at the beginning of his life is a predominantly vegetative
creature.

To soften this transition in education, hy giving a large
part of the educative work to nature itself, is as necessary
as it is not to snatch the little child suddenly and violently
from its mother and to take him to school; and precisely
this is done in the " Children's Houses," which are
situated within the tenements where the parents live, where
the cry of the child reaches the mother and the mother's
voice answers it.

Nowadays, under the form of child hygiene, this part
of education is much cultivated: children are allowed to
grow up in the open air, in the public gardens, or are left
for many hours half naked on the seashore, exposed to
the rays of the sun. It has been understood, through the
diffusion of marine and Apennine colonies, that the best
means of invigorating the child is to immerse him in
nature.

Short and comfortable clothing for children, sandals
for the feet, nudity of the lower extremities, are so many
liberations from the oppressive shackles of civilisation.

It is an obvious principle that we should sacrifice to
natural liberties in education only as much as is necessary
for the acquisition of the greater pleasures which are
offered by civilisation without useless sacrifices.

But in all this progress of modern child education, we
have not freed ourselves from the prejudice which denies
children spiritual expression and spiritual needs, and
makes us consider them only as amiable vegetating bodies
to be cared for, kissed, and set in motion. The education
which a good mother or a good modern teacher gives to-

NATUEE IN EDUCATION 155

day to the child who, for example, is running about in a
flower garden is the counsel not to touch the flowers, not
to tread on the grass ; as if it were sufficient for the child
to satisfy the physiological needs of his body by moving
his legs and breathing fresh air.

But if for the physical life it is necessary to have the
child exposed to the vivifying forces of nature, it is also
necessary for his psychical life to place the soul of the
child in contact with creation, in order that he may lay up
for himself treasure from the directly educating forces
of living nature. The method for arriving at this end is
to set the child at agricultural labour, guiding him to the
cultivation of plants and animals, and so to the intelligent
contemplation of nature.

Already, in England Mrs. Latter has devised the basis
for a method of child education by means of gardening
and horticulture. She sees in the contemplation of de-
veloping life the bases of religion, since the soul of the
child may go from the creature to the Creator. She sees
in it also the point of departure for intellectual education,
which she limits to drawing from life as- a step toward
art, to the ideas about plants, insects, and seasons, which
spring from agriculture, and to the first notions of house-
hold life, which spring from the cultivation and the
culinary preparation of certain alimentary products that
children later serve upon the table, providing afterwards
also for the washing of the utensils and tableware.

Mrs. Latter's conception is too one-sided ; but her insti-
tutions, which continue to spread in England, undoubt-
edly complete the natural education which, up to this time
limited to the physical side, has already been so efficacious
in invigorating the bodies of English children. More-
over, her experience offers a positive corroboration of the

156 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

practicability of agricultural teaching in the case of little
children.

As for deficients, I have seen agriculture applied on a
large scale to their education at Paris by the means which
the kindly spirit of Baccelli tried to introduce into the
elementary schools when he attempted to institute the
" little educative gardens." In every little garden are
sown different agricultural products, demonstrating prac-
tically the proper method and the proper time for seeding
and for crop gathering, and the period of development of
the various products ; the manner of preparing the soil, of
enriching it with natural or chemical manures, etc. The
same is done for ornamental plants and for gardening,
which is the work yielding the best income for deficients,
when they are of an age to practise a profession.

But this side of education, though it contains, in the
first place, an objective method of intellectual culture, and,
in addition, a professional preparation, is not, in my
opinion, to be taken into serious consideration for child
education. The educational conception of this age must
be solely that of aiding the psycho-physical development
of the individual; and, this being the case, agriculture
and animal culture contain in themselves precious means
of moral education which can be analysed far more than
is done by Mrs. Latter, who sees in them essentially a
method of conducting the child's soul to religious feeling.
Indeed, in this method, which is a progressive ascent, sev-
eral gradations can be distinguished: I mention here the
principal ones:

First. The child is initiated into observation of the
phenomena of life. He stands with respect to the plants
and animals in relations analogous to those in which the
observing teacher stands towards him. Little by little,

NATUKE IN EDUCATION 15T

as interest and observation grow, Iris zealous care for the
living creatures grows also, and in this way, the child can
logically be brought to appreciate the care which the
mother and the teacher take of him.

Second. The child is initiated into foresight by way
of auto-education; when he knows that the life of the
plants that have been sown depends upon his care in water-
ing them, and that of the animals, upon his diligence in
feeding them, without which the little plant dries up and
the animals suffer hunger, the child becomes vigilant, as
one who is beginning to feel a mission in life. Moreover,
a voice quite different from that of his mother and his
teacher calling him to his duties, is speaking here, exhort-
ing him never to forget the task he has undertaken. It
is the plaintive voice of the needy life which lives by his
care. Between the child and the living creatures which
he cultivates there is born a mysterious correspondence
which induces the child to fulfil certain determinate acts
without the intervention of the teacher, that is, leads him
to an auto-education.

The rewards which the child reaps also remain between
him and nature: one fine day after long patient care in
carrying food and straw to the brooding pigeons, behold
the little ones ! behold a number of chickens peeping about
the setting hen which yesterday sat motionless in her
brooding place ! behold one day the tender little rabbits in
the hutch where formerly dw'elt in solitude the pair of
big rabbits to which he had not a few times lovingly car-
ried the green vegetables left over in his mother's kitchen !

I have not yet been able to institute in Eome the breed-
ing of animals, but in the " Children's Houses " at Milan
there are several animals, among them a pair of pretty
little white American fowl that live in a diminutive and

158 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

elegant chalet, similar in construction to a Chinese pagoda :
in front of it, a little piece of ground inclosed by a ram-
part is reserved for the pair. The little door of the chalet
is locked at evening, and the children take care of it in
turn. With what delight they go in the morning to un-
lock the door, to fetch water and straw, and with what
care they watch during the day, and at evening lock the
door after having made sure that the fowl lack nothing!
The teacher informs me that among all the educative exer-
cises this is the most welcome, and seems also the most
important of all. Many a time when the children are
tranquilly occupied in tasks, each at the work he prefers,
one, two, or three, get up silently, and go out to cast a
glance at the animals to see if they need care. Often it
happens that a child absents himself for a long time and
the teacher surprises him watching enchantedly the fish
gliding ruddy and resplendent in the sunlight in the wa-
ters of the fountain.

One day I received from the teacher in Milan a letter
in which she spoke to me with great enthusiasm of a truly
wonderful piece of news. The little pigeons were hatched.
For the children it was a great festival. They felt them-
selves to some extent the parents of these little ones, and
no artificial reward which had flattered their vanity would
ever have provoked such a truly fine emotion. Not less
great are the joys which vegetable nature provides. In
one of the " Children's Houses " at Rome, where there was
no soil that could be cultivated, there have been arranged,
through the efforts of Signora Talamo, flower-pots all
around the large terrace, and climbing plants near the
walls. The children never forget to water the plants with
their little watering-pots.

One day I found them seated on the ground, all in a

NATUKE IN EDUCATION 159

circle, around a splendid red rose which had bloomed in
the night; silent and calm, literally immersed in mute
contemplation.

Third. The children are initiated into the virtue of
patience and into confident expectation., which is a form
of faith and of philosophy of life.

When the children put a seed into the ground, and wait
until it fructifies, and see the first appearance of the shape-
less plant, and wait for the growth and the transforma-
tions into flower and fruit, and see how some plants sprout
sooner and some later, and how the deciduous plants have
a rapid life, and the fruit-trees a slower growth, they end
by acquiring a peaceful equilibrium of conscience, and
absorb the first germs of that wisdom which so character-
ised the tillers of the soil in the time when they still kept
their primitive simplicity.

Fourth. The children are inspired with a feeling for
nature, which is maintained by the marvels of creation —
that creation which rewards with a generosity not measured
by the labour of those who help it to evolve the life of its
creatures.

Even while at the work, a sort of correspondence arises
between the child's soul and the lives which are developed
under his care. The child loves naturally the manifesta-
tions of life : Mrs. Latter tells us how easily little ones are
interested even in earthworms and in the movement of the
larvaB of insects in manure, without feeling that horror
which we, who have grown up isolated from nature, ex-
perience towards certain animals. It is well then, to de-
velop this feeling of trust and confidence in living crea-
tures, which is, moreover, a form of love, and of union
with the universe.

But what most develops a feeling of nature is the cul-

160 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

tivation of the living things, because they by their natural
development give back far more than they receive, and show
something like infinity in their beauty and variety. When
the child has cultivated the iris or the pansy, the rose or
the hyacinth, has placed in the soil a seed or a bulb and
periodically watered it, or has planted a fruit-bearing
shrub, and the blossomed flower and the ripened fruit offer
themselves as a generous gift of nature, a rich reward for
a small effort ; it seems almost as if nature were answering
with her gifts to the feeling of desire, to the vigilant love
of the cultivator, rather than striking a balance with his
material efforts.

It will be quite different when the child has to gather
the material fruits of his labour: motionless, uniform ob-
jects, which are consumed and dispersed rather than in-
creased and multiplied.

The difference between the products of nature and those
of industry, between divine products and human products
— it is this that must be born spontaneously in the child's
conscience, like the determination of a fact.

But at the same time, as the plant must give its fruit,
so man must give his labour.

Fifth. The child follows the natural way of develop-
ment of the human race. In short, such education makes
the evolution of the individual harmonise with that of
humanity. Man passed from the natural to the artificial
state through agriculture : when he discovered the secret of
intensifying the production of the soil, he obtained the
reward of civilisation.

The same path must be traversed by the child who is
destined to become a civilised man.

The action of educative nature so understood is very
practically accessible. Because, even if the vast stretch

NATURE IN EDUCATION 101

of ground and the large courtyard necessary for physical
education are lacking, it will always be possible to find
a few square yards of land that may be cultivated, or a
little place where pigeons can make their nest, things suffi-
cient for spiritual education. Even a pot of flowers at
the window can, if necessary, fulfil the purpose.

In the first " Children's House " in Rome we have a
vast courtyard, cultivated as a garden, where the children
are free to run in the open air — and, besides, a long
stretch of ground, which is planted on one side with trees,
has a branching path in the middle, and on the opposite
side, has broken ground for the cultivation of plants.
This last, we have divided into so many portions, reserving
one for each child.

While the smaller children run freely up and down the
paths, or rest in the shade of the trees, the possessors of
the earth (children from four years of age up), are sow-
ing, or hoeing, watering or examining, the surface of the
soil watching for the sprouting of plants. It is interest-
ing to note the following fact : the little reservations of the
children are placed along the wall of the tenement, in a
spot formerly neglected because it leads to a blind road;
the inhabitants of the house, therefore, had the habit of
throwing from those windows every kind of offal, and at
the beginning our garden was thus contaminated.

But, little by little, without any exhortation on our
part, solely through the respect born in the people's mind
for the children's labour, nothing more fell from the win-
dows, except the loving glances and smiles of the mothers
upon the soil which was the beloved possession of their
little children.

CHAPTER XI
MANUAL LABOUR — THE POTTER'S ART AND BUILDING

MANUAL labour is distinguished from manual gymnas-
tics by the fact that the object of the latter is to exercise
the hand, and the former, to accomplish a determinate
work,, being, or simulating, a socially useful object. The
one perfects the individual, the other enriches the world;
the two things are, however, connected because, in general,
only one who has perfected his own hand can produce a
useful product.

I have thought wise, after a short trial, to exclude com-
pletely Froebel's exercises, because weaving and sewing
on cardboard are ill adapted to the physiological state of
the child's visual organs where the powers of the accom-
modation of the eye have not yet reached complete develop-
ment; hence, these exercises cause an effort of the organ
which may have a fatal influence on the development of
the sight. The other little exercises of Froebel, such as
the folding of paper, are exercises of the hand, not work.

There is still left plastic work, — the most rational
among all the exercises of Froebel, — which consists in
making the child reproduce determinate objects in clay.

In consideration, however, of the system of liberty
which I proposed, I did not like to make the children copy
anything, and, in giving them clay to fashion in their own
manner, I did not direct the children to produce useful
things; nor was I accomplishing an educative result, inas-

162

MANUAL LABOUR 163

much as plastic work, as I shall show later, serves for the
study of the psychic individuality of the child in his
spontaneous manifestations, but not for his education.

I decided therefore to try in the " Children's Houses "
some very interesting exercises which I had seen accom-
plished by an artist, Professor Randone, in the " School
of Educative Art " founded by him. This school had its
origin along with the society for young people, called
Giovinezza Gentile, both school and society having the
object of educating youth in gentleness towards their sur-
roundings— that is, in respect for objects, buildings,
monuments: a really important part of civil education,
and one which interested me particularly on account of
the " Children's Houses," since that institution has, as its
fundamental aim, to teach precisely this respect for the
walls, for the house, for the surroundings.

Very suitably, Professor Randone had decided that the
society of Giovinezza Gentile could not be based upon
sterile theoretical preachings of the principles of citizen-
ship, or upon moral pledges taken by the children; but
that it must proceed from an artistic education which
should lead the youth to appreciate and love, and conse-
quently respect, objects and especially monuments and his-
toric buildings. Thus the " School of Educative Art "
was inspired by a broad artistic conception including the
reproduction of objects which are commonly met in the
surroundings ; the history and pre-history of their produc-
tion, and the illustration of the principal civic monuments
which, in Rome, are in large measure composed of ar-
chaBological monuments. In order the more directly to
accomplish his object, Professor Randone founded his
admirable school in an opening in one of the most artistic
parts of the walls of Rome, namely, the wall of Belisarius,

164 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

overlooking the Villa Umberto Primo — a wall which
has been entirely neglected by the authorities and by no
means respected by the citizens, and upon which Randone
lavished care, decorating it with graceful hanging gardens
on the outside, and locating within it the School of Art
which was to shape the Giovinezza Gentile.

Here Randone has tried, very fittingly, to rebuild and
revive a form of art which was once the glory of Italy
and of Florence — the potter's art, that is, the art of con-
structing vases.

The archaeological, historical, and artistic importance
of the vase is very great, and may be compared with the
numismatic art. In fact the first object of which humanity
felt the need was the vase, which came into being with
the utilisation of fire, and before the discovery of the
production of fire. Indeed the first food of mankind was
cooked in a vase.

One of the things most important, ethnically, in judg-
ing the civilisation of a primitive people is the grade of
perfection attained in pottery ; in fact, the vase for do-
mestic life and the axe for social life are the first sacred
symbols which we find in the prehistoric epoch, and are
the religious symbols connected with the temples of the
gods and with the cult of the dead. Even to-day, religious
cults have sacred vases in their Sancta Sanctorum.

People who have progressed in civilisation show their
feeling for art and their aesthetic feeling also in vases
which are multiplied in almost infinite form, as we see
in Egyptian, Etruscan, and Greek art.

The vase then comes into being, attains perfection,
and is multiplied in its uses and its forms, in the course
of human civilisation; and the history of the vase fol-
lows the history of humanity itself. Besides the civil

MANUAL LABOUR 165

and moral importance of the vase, we have another and
practical one, its literal adaptability to every modifica-
tion of form, and its susceptibility to the most diverse
ornamentation ; in this, it gives free scope to the individual
genius of the artist.

Thus, when once the handicraft leading to the con-
struction of vases has been learned (and this is the part
of the progress in the work, learned from the direct and
graduated instruction of the teacher), anyone can modify
it according to the inspiration of his own aesthetic taste
and this is the artistic, individual part of the work. Be-
sides this, in Eandone's school the use of the potter's
wheel is taught, and also the composition of the mixture
for the bath of majolica ware, and baking the pieces in
the furnace, stages of manual labour which contain an
industrial culture.

Another work in the School of Educative Art is the
manufacture of diminutive bricks, and their baking in
the furnace, and the construction of diminutive walls
built by the same processes which the masons use in the
construction of houses, the bricks being joined by means
of mortar handled with a trowel. After the simple con-
struction of the wall, — which is very amusing for the
children who build it, placing brick on brick, superimpos-
ing row on row, — the children pass to the construction
of real houses, — first, resting on the ground, and, then,
really constructed with foundations, after a previous ex-
cavation of large holes in the ground by means of little
hoes and shovels. These little houses have openings cor-
responding to windows and doors, and are variously
ornamented in their fagades by little tiles of bright and
multi-coloured majolica : the tiles themselves being manu-
factured by the children.

166 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

Thus the children learn to appreciate the objects and
constructions which surround them, while a real manual
and artistic labour gives them profitable exercise.

Such is the manual training which I have adopted in
the " Children's Houses " ; after two or three lessons the
little pupils are already enthusiastic about the construc-
tion of vases, and they preserve very carefully their own
products, in which they take pride. With their plastic
art they then model little objects, eggs or fruits, with
which they themselves fill the vases. One of the first
undertakings is the simple vase of red clay filled with
eggs of white clay; then comes the modelling of the vase
with one or more spouts, of the narrow-mouthed vase,
of the vase with a handle, of that with two or three
handles, of the tripod, of the amphora.

For children of the age of five or six, the work of
the potter's wheel begins. But what most delights the
children is the work of building a wall with little bricks,
and seeing a little house, the fruit of their own hands,
rise in the vicinity of the ground in which are growing
plants, also cultivated by them. Thus the age of child-
hood epitomises the principal primitive labours of hu-
manity, when the human race, changing from the nomadic
to the stable condition, demanded of the earth its fruit,
built itself shelter, and devised vases to cook the foods
yielded by the fertile earth.

CHAPTER XII

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES

IN a pedagogical method which is experimental the
education of the senses must undoubtedly assume the
greatest importance. Experimental psychology also takes
note of movements by means of sense measurements.

Pedagogy, however, although it may profit by psy-
chometry is not designed to measure the sensations, but
educate the senses. This is a point easily understood,
yet one which is often confused. While the proceedings
of esthesiometry are not to any great extent applicable
to little children, the education of the senses is entirely
possible.

We do not start from the conclusions of experimental
psychology. That is, it is not the knowledge of the
average sense conditions according to the age of the child
which leads us to determine the educational applications
we shall make. We start essentially from a method, and
it is probable that psychology will be able to draw its
conclusions from pedagogy so understood, and not vice
versa.

The method used by me is that of making a pedagogical
experiment with a didactic object and awaiting the
spontaneous reaction of the child. This is a method in
every way analogous to that of experimental psychology.

I make use of a material which, at first glance, may be
confused with psychometric material. Teachers from

167

168 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

Milan who had followed the course in the Milan school
of experimental psychology, seeing my material exposed,
would recognise among it, measures of the perception of
colour, hardness, and weight, and would conclude that,
in truth, I brought no new contribution to pedagogy since
these instruments were already known to them.

But the great difference between the two materials lies
in this: The esthesiometer carries within itself the pos-
sibility of measuring; my objects on the contrary, often
do not permit a measure, but are adapted to cause the
child to exercise the senses.

In order that an instrument shall attain such a peda-
gogical end, it is necessary that it shall not weary but
shall divert the child. Here lies the difficulty in the
selection of didactic material. It is known that the psy-
chometric instruments are great consumers of energy —
for this reason, when Pizzoli wished to apply them to the
education of the senses, he did not succeed because the
child was annoyed by them, and became tired. Instead,
the aim of education is to develop the energies.

Psychometric instruments, or better, the instruments
of esthesiometry, are prepared in their differential grada-
tions upon the laws of Weber, which were in truth drawn
from experiments made upon adults.

With little children, we must proceed to the making
of trials, and must select the didactic materials in which
they show themselves to be interested.

This I did in the first year of the " Children's Houses "
adopting a great variety of stimuli, with a number of
which I had already experimented in the school for
deficients.

Much of the material used for deficients is abandoned
in the education of the normal child — and much that is

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 169

used has been greatly modified. I believe, however, that
I have arrived at a selection of objects (which I do not
here wish to speak of in the technical language of psy-
chology as stimuli) representing the minimum necessary
to a practical sense education.

These objects constitute the didactic system (or set of
didactic materials) used by me. They are manufactured
by the House of Labour of the Humanitarian Society at
Milan.

A description of the objects will be given as the edu-
cational scope of each is explained. Here I shall limit
myself to the setting forth of a few general considera-
tions.

First. The difference in the reaction between deficient
and normal children, in the presentation of didactic
material made up of graded stimuli. This difference is
plainly seen from the fact that the same didactic material
used with deficients makes education possible, while with
normal children it provokes auto-education.

This fact is one of the most interesting I have met with
in all my experience, and it inspired and rendered possible
the method of observation and liberty.

Let us suppose that we use our first object, — a block
in which solid geometric forms are set. Into correspond-
ing holes in the block are set ten little wooden cylinders,
the bases diminishing gradually about ten millimetres.
The game consists in taking the cylinders out of their
places, putting them on the table, mixing them, and then
putting each one back in its own place. The aim is to
educate the eye to the differential perception of dimen-
sions.

With the deficient child, it would be necessary to begin
with exercises in which the stimuli were much more

170 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

strongly contrasted, and to arrive at this exercise only
after many others had preceded it..

With normal children, this is, on the other hand, the
first object which we may present, and out of all the
didactic material this is the game preferred by the very
little children of two and a half and three years. Once
we arrived at this exercise with a deficient child, it was
necessary continually and actively to recall his attention,
inviting him to look at the block and showing him the
various pieces. And if the child once succeeded in plac-
ing all the cylinders properly, he stopped, and the game
was finished. Whenever the deficient child committed
an error, it was necessary to correct it, or to urge him
to correct it himself, and when he was able to correct
an error he was usually quite indifferent.

Now the normal child, instead, takes spontaneously a
lively interest in this game. He pushes away all who
would interfere, or offer to help him, and wishes to be
alone before his problem.

It had already been noted that little ones of two or
three years take the greatest pleasure in arranging small
objects, and this experiment in the " Children's Houses "
demonstrates the truth of this assertion.

Now, and here is the important point, the normal child
attentively observes the relation between the size of the
opening and that of the object which he is to place in
the mould, and is greatly interested in the game, as is
clearly shown by the expression of attention on the little
face.

If he mistakes, placing one of the objects in an open-
ing that is small for it, he takes it away, and proceeds
to make various trials, seeking the proper opening. If
he makes a contrary error, letting the cylinder fall into

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 171

an opening that is a little too large for it, and then col-
lects all the successive cylinders in openings just a little
too large, he will find himself at the last with the big
cylinder in his hand while only the smallest opening is
empty. The didactic material controls every error. The
child proceeds to correct himself, doing this in various
ways. Most often he feels the cylinders or shakes them,
in order to recognise which are the largest. Sometimes,
he sees at a glance where his error lies, pulls the cylinders
from the places where they should not be, and puts
those left out where they belong, then replaces all the
others. The normal child always repeats the exercise with
growing interest.'

Indeed, it is precisely in these errors that the educa-
tional importance of the didactic material lies, and when
the child with evident security places each piece in its
proper place, he has outgrown the exercise, and this piece
of material becomes useless to him.

This self-correction leads the child to concentrate his
attention upon the differences of dimensions, and to com-
pare the various pieces. It is in just this comparison
that the psycho-sensory exercise lies.

There is, therefore, no question here of teaching the
child the knowledge of the dimensions, through the medium
of these pieces. Neither is it our aim that the child shall
know how to use, without an error, the material presented
to him thus performing the exercises well.

That would place our material on the same basis as
many others, for example that of Froebel, and would
require again the active work of the teacher, who busies
herself furnishing knowledge, and making haste to cor-
rect every error in order that the child may learn the
use of the objects.

172 THE MONTESSOBI METHOD

Here instead it is the work of the child, the auto-
correction, the auto-education which acts, for the teacher
must not interfere in the slightest way. No teacher can
furnish the child with the agility which, lie acquires
through gymnastic exercises: it is necessary that the pupil
perfect himself through his own efforts. It is very much
the same with the education of the senses.

It might be said that the same thing is true of every
form of education ; a man is not what he is because of the
teachers he has had, but because of what he has done.

One of the difficulties of putting this method into prac-
tice with teachers of the old school, lies in the difficulty
of preventing them from intervening when the little child
remains for some time puzzled before some error, and with
his eyebrows drawn together and his lips puckered, makes
repeated efforts to correct himself. When they see this,
the old-time teachers are seized with pity, and long, with
an almost irresistible force, to help the child. When we
prevent this intervention, they burst into words of com-
passion for the little scholar, but he soon shows in his
smiling face the joy of having surmounted an obstacle.

Normal children repeat such exercises many times.
This repetition varies according to the individual. Some
children after having completed the exercise five or six
times are tired of it. Others will remove and replace
the pieces at least twenty times, with an expression of
evident interest. Once, after I had watched a little one
of four years repeat this exercise sixteen times, I had
the other children sing in order to distract her, but she
continued unmoved to take out the cylinders, mix them
up and put them back in their places.

An intelligent teacher ought to be able to make most
interesting individual psychological observations, and, to

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 173

a certain point, should be able to measure the length of
time for which the various stimuli held the attention.

In fact, when the child educates himself, and when the
control and correction of errors is yielded to the didactic
material, there remains for the teacher nothing but to
observe. She must then be more of a psychologist than
a teacher, and this shows the importance of a scientific
preparation on the part of the teacher.

Indeed, with my methods, the teacher teaches little and
observes much, and, above all, it is her function to direct
the psychic activity of the children and their physiologi-
cal development. For this reason I have changed the
name of teacher into that of directress.

At first this name provoked many smiles, for everyone
asked whom there was for this teacher to direct, since
she had no assistants, and since she must leave her little
scholars in liberty. But her direction is much more pro-
found and important than that which is commonly un-
derstood, for this teacher directs the life and the soul.

Second. The education of the senses has, as its aim,
the refinement of the differential perception of stimuli
by means of repeated exercises.

There exists a sensory culture, which is not generally
taken into consideration, but which is a factor in
esthesiometry.

For example, in the mental tests which are used in
France, or in a series of tests which De Sanctis has estab-
lished for the diagnosis of the intellectual status, I have
often seen used cubes of different sizes placed at vary-
ing distances. The child was to select the smallest and
the largest, while the chronometer measured the time of
reaction between the command and the execution of the
act. Account was also taken of the errors. I repeat that

174 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

in such experiments the factor of culture is forgotten and
by this I mean sensory culture.

Our children have, for example, among the didactic
material for the education of the senses, a series of ten
cubes. The first has a base of ten centimetres, and the
others decrease, successively, one centimetre as to base,
the smallest cube having a base of one centimetre. The
exercise consists in throwing the blocks, which are pink
in colour, down upon a green carpet, and then build-
ing them up into a little tower, placing the largest cube
as the base, and then placing the others in order of size
until the little cube of one centimetre is placed at the top.

The little one must each time select, from the blocks
scattered upon the green carpet, " the largest " block.
This game is most entertaining to the little ones of two
years and a half, who, as soon as they have constructed
the little tower, tumble it down with little blows of the
hand, admiring the pink cubes as they lie scattered upon
the green carpet. Then, they begin again the construc-
tion, building and destroying a definite number of times.

If we were to place before these tests one of my chil-
dren from three to four years, and one of the children
from the first elementary (six or seven years old), my
pupil would undoubtedly manifest a shorter period of
reaction, and would not commit errors. The same may
be said for the tests of the chromatic sense, etc.

This educational method should therefore prove inter-
esting to students of experimental psychology as well
as to teachers.

In conclusion, let me summarize briefly : Our didactic
material renders auto-education possible, permits a me-
thodical education of the senses. Not upon the ability
of the teacher does such education rest, but upon the

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 175

didactic system. This presents objects which, first, at-
tract the spontaneous attention of the child, and, second,
contain a rational gradation of stimuli.

We must not confuse the education of the senses, with
the concrete ideas which may be gathered from our en-
vironment by means of the senses. Nor must this edu-
cation of the senses be identical in our minds with the
language through which is given the nomenclature cor-
responding to the concrete idea, nor with the acquisition
of the abstract idea of the exercises.

Let us consider what the music master does in giving
instruction in piano playing. He teaches the pupil the
correct position of the body, gives him the idea of the
notes, shows him the correspondence between the written
notes and the touch and the position of the fingers, and
then he leaves the child to perform the exercise by him-
self. If a pianist is to be made of this child, there must,
between the ideas given by the teacher and the musical
exercises, intervene long and patient application to those
exercises which serve to give agility to the articulation
of the fingers and of the tendons, in order that the co-
ordination of special muscular movements shall become
automatic, and that the muscles of the hand shall become
strong through their repeated use.

The pianist must, therefore, act for himself, and the
more his natural tendencies lead him to persist in these
exercises the greater will be his success. However, with-
out the direction of the master the exercise will not suffice
to develop the scholar into a true pianist.

The directress of the " Children's House " must have
a clear idea of the two factors which enter into her work
— the guidance of the child, and the individual exercise.

Only after she has this concept clearly fixed in her

176 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

mind, may she proceed to the application of a method to
guide the spontaneous education of the child and to im-
part necessary notions to him.

In the opportune quality and in the manner of this
intervention lies the personal art of the educator.

For example, in the " Children's House " in the Prati
di Castello, where the pupils belong to the middle-class,
I found, a month after the opening of the school, a child
of five years who already knew how to compose any word,
as he knew the alphabet perfectly — he had learned it
in two weeks. He knew how to write on the blackboard,
and in the exercises in free design he showed himself not
only to be an observer, but to have some intuitive idea
of perspective, drawing a house and chair very cleverly.
As for the exercises of the chromatic sense, he could mix
together the eight gradations of the eight colours which we
use, and from this mass of sixty-four tablets, each wound
with silk of a different colour or shade, he could rapidly
separate the eight groups. Having done this, he would
proceed with ease to arrange each colour series in perfect
gradation. In this game the child would almost cover
one of the little tables with a carpet of finely-shaded
colours. I made the experiment, taking him to the win-
dow and showing him in full daylight one of the coloured
tablets, telling him to look at it well, so that he might
be able to remember it. I then sent him to the table on
which all the gradations were spread out, and asked him
to find the tablet like the one at which he had looked.
He committed only very slight errors, often choosing the
exact shade but more often the one next it, rarely a tint
two grades removed from the right one. This boy had
then a power of discrimination and a colour memory which
were almost prodigious. Like all the other children, he

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 177

was exceedingly fond of the colour exercises. But when
I asked the name of the white colour spool, he hesitated
for a long time before replying uncertainly " white."
Now a child of such intelligence should have been able,
even without the special intervention of the teacher, to
learn the name of each colour.

The directress told me that having noticed that the
child had great difficulty in retaining the nomenclature
of the colours, she had up until that time left him to
exercise himself freely with the games for the colour
sense. At the same time he had developed rapidly a
power over written language, which in my method is
presented through a series of problems to be solved.
These problems are presented as sense exercises. This
child was, therefore, most intelligent. In him the dis-
criminative sensory perceptions kept pace with great in-
tellectual activities — attention and judgment. But his
memory for names was inferior.

The directress had thought best not to interfere, as yet,
in the teaching of the child. Certainly, the education
of the child was a little disordered, and the directress
had left the spontaneous explanation of his mental activ-
ities excessively free. However desirable it may be to
furnish a sense education as a basis for intellectual ideas,
it is nevertheless advisable at the same time to associate
the language with these perceptions.

In this connection I have found excellent for use with
normal children the three periods of which the lesson
according to Seguin consists:

First Period. The association of the sensory percep-
tion with the name.

For example, we present to the child, two colours, red
and blue. Presenting the red, we say simply, " This is

178 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

red," and presenting the blue, " This is blue." Then, we
lay the spools upon the table under the eyes of the child.

Second Period. Eecognition of the object correspond-
ing to the name. We say to the child, " Give me the
red," and then, " Give me the blue."

Third Period. The remembering of the name corre-
sponding to the object. We ask the child, showing him the
object, " What is this ? " and he should respond, " Bed."

Seguin insists strongly upon these three periods, and
urges that the colours be left for several instants under
the eyes of the child. He also advises us never to pre-
sent the colour singly, but always two at a time, since the
contrast helps the chromatic memory. Indeed, I have
proved that there cannot be a better method for teaching
colour to the deficients, who, with this method were able
to learn the colours much more perfectly than normal
children in the ordinary schools who have had a haphazard
sense education. For normal children however there ex-
ists a period preceding the Three Periods of Seguin —
a period which contains the real sense education. This
is the acquisition of a fineness of differential perception,
which can be obtained only through auto-education.

This, then, is an example of the great superiority of
the normal child, and of the greater effect of education
which such pedagogical methods may exercise upon the
mental development of normal as compared with deficient
children.

The association of the name with the stimulus is a source
of great pleasure to the normal child. I remember, one
day, I had taught a little girl, who was not yet three
years old, and who was a little tardy in the development
of language, the names of three colours. I had the chil-
dren place one of their little tables near a window, and

EDUCATION OP THE SENSES 179

,
seating myself in one of the little chairs, I seated the

little girl in a similar chair at my right.

I had, on the table, six of the colour spools in pairs,
that is two reds, two hlues, two yellows. In the First
Period, I placed one of the spools before the child, ask-
ing her to find the one like it. This I repeated for all
three of the colours, showing her how to arrange them
carefully in pairs. After this I passed to the Three
Periods of Seguin. The little girl learned to recognise
the three colours and to pronounce the name of each.

She was so happy that she looked at me for a long
time, and then began to jump up and down. I, seeing
her pleasure, said to her, laughing, " Do you know the
colours ? " and she replied, still jumping up and down,
"Yes! YES!" Her delight was inexhaustible; she
danced about me, waiting joyously for me to ask her the
same question, that she might reply with the same enthus-
iasm, "Yes! Yes!"

Another important particular in the technique of sense
education lies in isolating the sense, whenever this is pos-
sible. So, for example, the exercises on the sense of
hearing can be given more successfully in an environ-
ment not only of silence, but even of darkness.

For the education of the senses in general, such as in
the tactile, thermic, baric, and stereognostic exercises, we
blindfold the child. The reasons for this particular
technique have been fully set forth by psychology. Here,
it is enough to note that in the case of normal children
the blindfold greatly increases their interest, without mak-
ing the exercises degenerate into noisy fun, and without
having the child's attention attracted more to the bandage
than to the sense-stimuli upon which we wish to focus
the attention.

180 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

For example, in order to test the acuteness of the child's
sense of hearing (a most important thing for the teacher
to know), I use an empiric test -which is coming to be
used almost universally by physicians in the making of
medical examinations. This test is made by modulating
the voice, reducing it to a whisper. The child is blind-
folded, or the teacher may stand behind him, speak-
ing his name, in a whisper and from varying distances.
I establish a solemn silence in the schoolroom, darken
the windows, have the children bow their heads upon
their hands which they hold in front of their eyes.
Then I call the children by name, one by one, in a whisper,
lighter for those who are nearer me, and more clearly for
those farther away. Each child awaits, in the darkness,
the faint voice which calls him, listening intently, ready
to run with keenest joy toward the mysterious and much
desired call.

The normal child may be blindfolded in the games
where, for example, he is to recognise various weights,
for this does help him to intensify and concentrate his
attention upon the baric stimuli which he is to test. The
blindfold adds to his pleasure, since he is proud of hav-
ing been able to guess.

The effect of these games upon deficient children is
very different. When placed in darkness, they often go
to sleep, or give themselves up to disordered acts. When
the blindfold is used, they fix their attention upon the
bandage itself, and change the exercise into a game, which
does not fulfil the end we have in view with the exercise.

We speak, it is true, of games in education, but it must
be made clear that we understand by this term a free ac-
tivity, ordered to a definite end; not disorderly noise,
which distracts the attention.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 181

The following pages of Itard give an idea of the
patient experiments made by this pioneer in pedagogy.
Their lack of success was due largely to errors which suc-
cessive experiments have made it possible to correct, and
in part to the mentality of his subject.

" IV : In this last experiment it was not necessary, as
in the one preceding, to demand that the pupil repeat
the sounds which he perceived. This double work, dis-
tributing his attention, was outside the plane of my pur-
pose, which was to educate each organ separately. I,
therefore, limited myself to following the simple per-
ception of sounds. To be certain of this result, I placed
my pupil in front of me with his eyes blinded, his fists
closed, and had him extend a finger every time that I
made a sound. He understood this arrangement, and
as soon as the sound reached his ear, the finger was raised,
with a species of impetuosity, and often with demonstra-
tions of joy which left no doubt as to the pleasure the
pupil took in these bizarre lessons. Indeed, whether it be
that he found a real pleasure in the sound of the human
voice, or that he had at last conquered the annoyance
he at first felt on being deprived of the light for so long
a time, the fact remainsj;hat more than once, during the
intervals of rest, he came to me with his blindfold in his
hand, holding it over his eyes, and jumping with joy when
he felt my hands tying it about his head.

" V : Having thoroughly assured myself, through such
experiments as the one described above, that all sounds
of the voice, whatever their intensity, were perceived by
Vittorio, I proceeded to the attempt of making him com-
pare these sounds. It was no longer a case of simply
noting the sounds of the voice, but of perceiving the dif-
ferences and of appreciating all these modifications and

182 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

varieties of tone which go to make up the music of the
word. Between this task and the preceding there
stretched a prodigious difference, especially for a being
whose development was dependent upon gradual effort,
and who advanced toward civilisation only because I led
thitherward so gently that he was unconscious of the prog-
ress. Pacing the difficulty now presented, I had need
to arm myself more strongly than ever with patience and
gentleness, encouraged by the hope that once I had sur-
mounted this obstacle all would have been done for the
sense of hearing.

" We began with the comparison of the vowel sounds,
and here, too, made use of the hand to assure ourselves
as to the result of our experiments. Each one of the
fingers was made the sign of one of the five vowels. Thus
the thumb represented A and was to be raised whenever
this vowel was pronounced; the index finger was the
sign for E ; the middle finger for I ; and so on.

" VI : Not without fatigue, and not for a long time,
was I able to give a distinct idea of the vowels. The
first to be clearly distinguished was O, and then followed
A. The three others presented much greater difficulty,
and were for a long time confused. At last, however, the
ear began to perceive distinctly, and, then, there returned
in all their vivacity, those demonstrations of joy of which
I have spoken. This continued until the pleasure taken
in the lessons began to be boisterous, the sounds became
confused, and the finger was raised indiscriminately.
The outbursts of laughter became indeed so excessive
that I lost patience! As soon as I placed the blindfold
over his eyes the shouts of laughter began."

Itard, finding it impossible to continue his educational

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 183

work, decided to do away with the blindfold, and, in-
deed, the shouts ceased, but now the child's attention was
distracted by the slightest movement about him. The
blindfold was necessary, but the boy had to be made to
understand that he must not laugh so much and that he
was having a lesson. The corrective means of Itard and
their touching results are worth reporting here!

" I wished to intimidate him with my manner, not be-
ing able to do so with my glance. I armed myself with
a tambourine and struck it lightly whenever he made a
mistake. But he mistook this correction for a joke, and
his joy became more noisy than ever. I then felt that
I must make the correction a little more severe. It was
understood, and I saw, with a mixture of pain and pleas-
ure, revealed in the darkened face of this boy the fact
that the feeling of injury surpassed the unhappiness of
the blow. Tears came from beneath the blindfold, he
urged me to take it off, but, whether from embarrassment
or fear, or from some inner preoccupation, when freed
from the bandage he still kept his eyes tightly closed. I
could not laugh at the doleful expression of his face, the
closed eyelids from between which trickled an occasional
tear! Oh, in this moment, as in many others, ready to
renounce my task, and feeling that the time I had con-
secrated to it was lost, how I regretted ever having known
this boy, and how severely I condemned the barren and
inhuman curiosity of the men who in order to make scien-
tific advancement had torn him away from a life, at least
innocent and happy ! "

Here also is demonstrated the great educative superior-
ity of scientific pedagogy for normal children.

Finally, one particular of the technique consists in the

184 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

distribution of the stimuli. This will be treated more
fully in the description of the didactic system (materials)
and of the sense education. Here it is enough to say
that one should proceed from few stimuli strongly con-
trasting, to many stimuli in gradual differentiation al-
ways more fine and imperceptible. So, for example, we
first present, together, red and blue; the shortest rod be-
side the longest; the thinnest beside the thickest, etc.,
passing from these to the delicately differing tints, and
to the discrimination of very slight differences in length
and size.

CHAPTEE XIII

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES AND ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE
DIDACTIC MATERIAL: GENERAL SENSIBILITY; THE
TACTILE, THERMIC, BARIC, AND STEREOGNOSTIC SENSES

THE education of the tactile and the thermic senses
go together, since the warm bath, and heat in general,
render the tactile sense more acute. Since to exercise the
tactile sense it is necessary to iouch, bathing the hands in
warm water has the additional advantage of teaching the
child a principle of cleanliness — that of not touching ob-
jects with hands that are not clean. I therefore apply
the general notions of practical life, regarding the wash-
ing of the hands, care of the nails, to the exercises pre-
paratory to the discrimination of tactile stimuli.

The limitation of the exercises of the tactile sense to
the cushioned tips of the fingers, is rendered necessary
by practical life. It must be made a necessary phase of
education because it prepares for a life in which man
exercises and uses the tactile sense through the medium
of these finger tips. Hence, I have the child wash his hands
carefully with soap, in a little basin; and in another
basin I have him rinse them in a bath of tepid water.
Then I show him how to dry and rub his hands gently,
in this way preparing for the regular bath. I next teach
the child how to touch, that is, the manner in which he
should touch surfaces. For this it is necessary to take

185

186 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

the finger of the child and to draw it very, very lightly
over the surface.

Another particular of the technique is to teach the child
to hold his eyes closed while he touches, encouraging him
to do this by telling him that he will be able to feel the
differences better, and so leading him to distinguish, with-
out the help of sight, the change of contact. He will
quickly learn, and will show that he enjoys the exercise.
Often after the introduction of such exercises, it is a
common thing to have a child come to you, and, closing
his eyes, touch with great delicacy the palm of your hand
or the cloth of your dress, especially any silken or velvet
trimmings. They do verily exercise the tactile sense.
They enjoy keenly touching any soft pleasant surface, and
become exceedingly keen in discriminating between the
differences in the sandpaper cards.

The Didactic Material consists of : a — a rectangular
wooden board divided into two equal rectangles, one cov-
ered with very smooth paper, or having the wood polished
until a smooth surface is obtained ; the other covered with
sandpaper. Z> — a tablet like the preceding covered with
alternating strips of smooth paper and sandpaper.

I also make use of a collection of paper slips, varying
through many grades from smooth, fine cardboard to
coarsest sandpaper. The stuffs described elsewhere are
also used in these lessons.

As to the Thermic Sense, I use a set of little metal
bowls, which are filled with water at different degrees of
temperature. These I try to measure with a thermometer,
so that there may be two containing water of the same
temperature.

THE CLOISTER SCHOOL OF THE FRANCISCAN NUNS IN ROME
Children playing a game with tablets of coloured silk

(A) GIRL TOUCHING A LETTER AND BOY TELLING OBJECTS BY WEIGHT

(B) ARRANGING TABLETS OF SILK IN THEIR CHROMATIC ORDER. There
are eight colours, and eight shades of each colour, making sixty-four gradations in all.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 187

I have designed a set of utensils which are to be made
of very light metal, and filled with water. These have
covers, and to each is attached a thermometer. The bowl
touched from the outside gives the desired impression of
heat.

I also have the children put their hands into cold, tepid,
and warm water, an exercise which they find most divert-
ing. I should like to repeat this exercise with the feet,
but I have not had an opportunity to make the trial.

For the education of the baric sense (sense of weight),
I use with great success little wooden tablets, six by eight
centimetres, having a thickness of % centimetre. These
tablets are in three different qualities of wood, wistaria,
walnut, and pine. They weigh respectively, 24, 18, and
12 grammes, making them differ in weight by 6 grammes.
These tablets should be very smooth ; if possible, varnished
in such a way that every roughness shall be eliminated, but
so that the natural colour of the wood shall remain. The
child, observing the colour, knows that they are of differing
weights, and this offers a means of controlling the exercise.
He takes two of the tablets in his hands, letting them
rest upon the palm at the base of his outstretched fingers.
Then he moves his hands up and down in order to gauge
the weight. This movement should come to be, little by
little, almost insensible. We lead the child to make his
distinction purely through the difference in weight, leav-
ing out the guide of the different colours, and closing his
eyes. He learns to do this of himself, and takes great
interest in " guessing."

The game attracts the attention of those near, who
gather in a circle about the one who has the tablets, and
who take turns in guessing. Sometimes the children

188 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

spontaneously make use of the blindfold, taking turns,
and interspersing the work with peals of joyful laugh-
ter.

EDUCATION OF THE STEREOGNOSTIC SENSE

The education of this sense leads to the recognition of
objects through feeling, that is, through the simultaneous
help of the tactile and muscular senses.

Taking this union as a basis, we have made experiments
which have given marvellously successful educational re-
sults. I feel that for the help of teachers these exercises
should be described.

The first didactic material used by us is made up of the
bricks and cubes of Froebel. We call the attention of
the child to the form of the two solids, have him feel them
carefully and accurately, with his eyes open, repeating
some phrase serving to fix his attention upon the particulars
of the forms presented. After this the child is told to
place the cubes to the right, the bricks to the left, always
feeling them, and without looking at them. Finally the
exercise is repeated, by the child blindfolded. Almost
all the children succeed in the exercise, and after two or
three times, are able to eliminate every error. There
are twenty-four of the bricks and cubes in all, so that
the attention may be held for some time through this
" game " — but undoubtedly the child's pleasure is greatly
increased by the fact of his being watched by a group of
his companions, all interested and eager.

One day a directress called my attention to a little girl
of three years, one of our very youngest pupils, who had
repeated this exercise perfectly. We seated the little girl
comfortably in an armchair, close to the table. Then,
placing the twenty-four objects before her upon the table,

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 189

we mixed them, and calling the child's attention to the
difference in form, told her to place the cubes to the right
and the bricks to the left. When she was blindfolded
she began the exercise as taught by us, taking an object
in each hand, feeling each and putting it in its right place.
Sometimes she took two cubes, or two bricks, sometimes
she found a brick in the right hand, a cube in the left.
The child had to recognise the form, and to remember
throughout the exercise the proper placing of the different
objects. This seemed to me very difficult for a child of
three years.

But observing her I saw that she not only performed the
exercise easily, but that the movements with which we had
taught her to feel the form were superfluous. Indeed
the instant she had taken the two objects in her hands, if it
so happened that she had taken a cube with the left hand
and a brick in the right, she exchanged them immediately,
and then began the laborious feeling the form which we
had taught and which she perhaps, believed to be obligatory.
But the objects had been recognised by her through the
first light touch, that is, the recognition was contempo-
raneous to the taking.

Continuing my study of the subject, I found that this
little girl was possessed of a remarkable functional am-
bidexterity — I should be very glad to make a wider study
of this phenomenon having in view the desirability of a
simultaneous education of both hands.

I repeated the exercise with other children and found
that they recognise the objects before feeling their con-
tours. This was particularly true of the little ones. Our
educational methods in this respect furnished a remark-
able exercise in associative gymnastics, leading to a rapid-
ity of judgment which was truly surprising and had the

190 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD '

advantage of being perfectly adapted to very young chil-
dren. •£

These exercises of the stereognostic sense may be
multiplied in many ways — they amuse the children who
find delight in the recognition of a stimulus, as in the
thermic exercises; for example — they may raise any
small objects, toy soldiers, little balls, and, above all, the
various coins in common use. They come to discriminate
between small forms varying very slightly, such as corn,
wheat, and rice.

They are very proud of seeing without eyes, holding
out their hands and crying, " Here are my eyes ! " " I can
see with my hands ! " Indeed, our little ones walking
in the ways we have planned, make us marvel over their
unforeseen progress, surprising us daily. Often, while
they are wild with delight over some new conquest, —
we watch, in deepest wonder and meditation.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES OF TASTE AND SMELL

This phase of sense education is most difficult, and I
have not as yet had any satisfactory results to record.
I can only say that the exercises ordinarily used in the
tests of psychometry do not seem to me to be practical for
use with young children.

The olfactory sense in children is not developed to any
great extent, and this makes it difficult to attract their
attention by means of this sense. We have made use of
one test which has not been repeated often enough to
form the basis of a method. We have the child smell
fresh violets, and jessamine flowers. We then blindfold
him, saying, " Now we are going to present you with
flowers." A little friend then holds a bunch of violets
under the child's nose, that he may guess the name of

•LBBBt.

iii

(A^ DRAWING TABLE AND INSET. (B) WOODEN TABLETS. These are
partly covered with sandpaper to give rough find smooth surfaces. tO SOLID IN-
SETS. With these the child, working by himself, learns to differentiate objects accord-
ing to thickness, height, and size.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 191

the flower. For greater or less intensity we present fewer
flowers, or even one single blossom.

But this part of education, like that of the sense of
taste, can be obtained by the child during the luncheon
hour ; — when he can learn to recognise various odours.

As to taste, the method of touching the tongue with va-
rious solutions, bitter or acid, sweet, salty, is perfectly
applicable. Children of four years readily lend them-
selves to such games, which serve as a reason for showing
them how to rinse their mouths perfectly. The chil-
dren enjoy recognising various flavours, and learn, after
each test, to fill a glass with tepid water, and carefully
rinse their mouths. In this way the exercise for the sense
of taste is also an exercise in hygiene.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSE OF VISION

/. Differential Visual Perception of Dimensions

First. Solid Insets: This material consists of three
solid blocks of wood each 55 centimetres long, 6 centi-
metres high and 8 centimetres wide. Each block contains
ten wooden pieces, set into corresponding holes. These
pieces are cylindrical in shape and are to be handled
by means of a little wooden or brass button which is fixed
in the centre of the top. The cases of cylinders are in
appearance much like the cases of weights used by
chemists. In the first set of the series, the cylinders are
all of equal height (55 millimetres) but differ in diameter.
The smallest cylinder has a diameter of 1 centimetre, and
the others increase in diameter at the rate of % centimetre.
In the second set, the cylinders are all of equal diameter,
corresponding to half the diameter of the largest cylinder
in the preceding series — (27 millimetres). The cylin-

192 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

ders in this set differ in height, the first being merely a
little disk only a centimetre high, 'the others increase 5
millimetres each, the tenth one being 55 millimetres high.
In the third set, the cylinders differ both in height and
diameter, the first being 1 centimetre high and 1 centi-
metre in diameter and each succeeding one increasing %
centimetre in height and diameter. With these insets, the
child, working by himself, learns to differentiate objects
according to thickness, according to "height, and according
to size.

In the schoolroom, these three sets may be played with
by three children gathered about a table, an exchange
of games adding variety. The child takes the cylinders
out of the moulds, mixes them upon the table, and then
puts each back into its corresponding opening. These
objects are made of hard pine, polished and varnished.

Second. Large pieces in graded dimensions : — There
are three sets of blocks which come under this head, and
it is desirable to have two of each of these sets in every
school.

(a) Thickness : this set consists of objects which vary
from thick to thin. There are ten quadrilateral prisms,
the largest of which has a base of 10 centimetres, the others
decreasing by 1 centimetre. The pieces are of equal
length, 20 centimetres. These prisms are stained a dark
brown. The child mixes them, scattering them over the
little carpet, and then puts them in order, placing one
against the other according to the graduations of thickness,
observing that the length shall correspond exactly. These
blocks, taken from the first to the last, form a species of
stair, the steps of which grow broader toward the top.
The child may begin with the thinnest piece or with the
thickest, as suits his pleasure. The control of the exer-

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 193

cise is not certain, as it was in the solid cylindrical insets.
There, the large cylinders could not enter the small open-
ing, the taller ones would project beyond the top of the
block, etc. In this game of the Big Stair, the eye of
the child can easily recognise an error, since if he mis-
takes, the stair is irregular, that is, there will be a high
step, behind which the step which should have ascended,
decreases.

(&) Length: Long and Short Objects: — This set
consists of ten rods. These are four-sided, each face being
3 centimetres. The first rod is a metre long, and the last
a decimetre. The intervening rods decrease, from first
to last, 1 decimetre each. Each space of 1 decimetre
is painted alternately red or blue. The rods, when placed
close to each other, must be so arranged that the colours
correspond, forming so many transverse stripes — the
whole set when arranged has the appearance of a rectan-
gular triangle made up of organ pipes, which decrease on
the side of the hypothenuse.

The child arranges the rods which have first been scat-
tered and mixed. He puts them together according to the
graduation of length, and observes the correspondence of
colours. This exercise also offers a very evident control
of error, for the regularity of the decreasing length of the
stairs along the hypothenuse will be altered if the rods
are not properly placed.

This most important set of blocks will have its prin-
cipal application in arithmetic, as we shall see. With it,
one may count from one to ten and may construct the
addition and other tables, and it may constitute the first
steps in the study of the decimal and metric system.

194 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

enamel. The largest cube has a base of 10 centimetres,
the smallest, of 1 centimetre, the intervening ones de-
crease 1 centimetre each. A little green cloth carpet goes
with these blocks. This may be of oilcloth or cardboard.
The game consists of building the cubes up, one upon
another, in the order of their dimensions, constructing a
little tower of which the largest cube forms the base and
the smallest the apex. The carpet is placed on the floor,
and the cubes are scattered upon it. As the tower is
built upon the carpet, the child goes through the exer-
cise of kneeling, rising, etc. The control is given by the
irregularity of the tower as it decreases toward the apex.
A cube misplaced reveals itself, because it breaks the
line. The most common error made by the children in
playing with these blocks at first, is that of placing the
second cube as the base and placing the first cube upon it,
thus confusing the two largest blocks. I have noted that
the same error was made by deficient children in the
repeated trials I made with the tests of De Sanctis. At
the question, " Which is the largest ? " the child would
take, not the largest, but that nearest it in size.

Any of these three sets of blocks may be used by the
children in a slightly different game. The pieces may be
mixed upon a carpet or table, and then put in order upon
another table at some distance. As he carries each piece,
the child must walk without letting his attention wander,
since he must remember the dimensions of the piece for
which he is to look among the mixed blocks.

The games played in this way are excellent for children
of four or five years ; while the simple work of arranging
the pieces in order upon the same carpet where they have
been mixed is more adapted to the little ones between three
and four years of age. The construction of the tower

A FEW OF THE MANY GEOMETRIC INSETS OF WOOD USED TO TEACH FORM

(A) GEOMETRIC INSETS OF WOOD, AND FRAME. The frame furnishes the control
necessary for exactness of work. (B) CABINET. (For storing geometric inset frames.)

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 195

with the pink cubes is very attractive to little ones of less
than three years, who knock it down and build it up time
after time.

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

Didactic Material. Plane geometric insets of wood:
The idea of these insets goes back to Itard and was also
applied by Seguin.

In the school for deficients I had made and applied these
insets in the same form used by my illustrious prede-
cessors. In these there were two large tablets of wood
placed one above the other and fastened together. The
lower board was left solid, while the upper one was per-
forated by various geometric figures. The game consisted
in placing in these openings the corresponding wooden
figures which, in order that they might be easily handled,
were furnished with a little brass knob.

In my school for deficients, I had multiplied the games
calling for these insets, and distinguished between those
used to teach colour and those used to teach form. The
insets for teaching colour were all circles, those used for
teaching form were all painted blue. I had great num-
bers of these insets made in graduations of colour and in
an infinite variety of form. This material was most ex-
pensive and exceedingly cumbersome.

In many later experiments with normal children, I have,
after many trials, completely excluded the plane geometric
insets as an aid to the teaching of colour, since this ma-
terial offers no control of errors, the child's task being that
of covering the forms before him.

I have kept the geometric insets, but have given them a
new and original aspect. The form in which they are

196 THE MONTESSOBI METHOD

now made was suggested to me by a visit to the splendid
manual training school in the Reformatory of St. Michael
in Rome. I saw there wooden models of geometric figures,
which could be set into corresponding frames or placed
above corresponding forms. The scope of these materials
was to lead to exactness in the making of the geometric
pieces in regard to control of dimension and form; the
frame furnishing the control necessary for the exactness
of the work.

This led me to think of making modifications in my
geometric insets, making use of the frame as well as of the
inset. I therefore made a rectangular tray, which meas-
ured 30x20 centimetres. This tray was painted a dark
blue and was surrounded by a dark frame. It was fur-
nished with a cover so arranged that it would contain six
of the square frames with their insets. The advantage of
this tray is that the forms may be changed, thus allowing
us to present any combination we choose. I have a num-
ber of blank wooden squares which make it possible to
present as few as two or three geometric forms at a time,
the other spaces being filled in by the blanks. To this
material I have added a set of white cards, 10 centimetres
square. These cards form a series presenting the geomet-
ric forms in other aspects. In the first of the series, the
form is cut from blue paper and mounted upon the card.
In the second box of cards, the contour of the same figures
is mounted in the same blue paper, forming an outline
one centimetre in width. On the third set of cards the
contour of the geometric form is outlined by a Hack line.
We have then the tray, the collection of small frames with
their corresponding insets, and the set of the cards in three
series.

I also designed a case containing six trays. The front

Some of the Card Forms used in the exercises with the three series

of cards.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 197

of this box may be lowered when the top is raised and the
trays may be drawn out as one opens the drawers of a desk.
Each drawer contains six of the small frames with their
respective insets. In the first drawer I keep the four plain
wooden squares and two frames, one containing a rhom-
boid, and the other a trapezoid. In the second, I have a
series consisting of a square, and five rectangles of the
same length, but varying in width. The third drawer con-
tains six circles which diminish in diameter. In the fourth
are six triangles, in the fifth, five polygons from a pentagon
to a decagon. The sixth drawer contains six curved fig-
ures (an ellipse, an oval, etc., and a flower-like figure
formed by four crossed arcs).

Exercise with the Insets. This exercise consists in pre-
senting to the child the large frame or tray in which we
may arrange the figures as we wish to present them. We
proceed to take out the insets, mix them upon the table,
and then invite the child to put them back in place. This
game may be played by even the younger children and
holds the attention for a long period, though not for so
long a time as the exercise with the cylinders. Indeed, I
have never seen a child repeat this exercise more than five
or six times. The child, in fact, expends much energy
upon this exercise. He must recognise the form and must
look at it carefully.

At first many of the children only succeed in placing
the insets after many attempts, trying for example to place
a triangle in a trapezoid, then in a rectangle, etc. Or
when they have taken a rectangle, and recognise where it
should go, they will still place it with the long side of the
inset across the short side of the opening, and will only
after many attempts, succeed in placing it. After three
or four successive lessons, the child recognises the geomet-

198 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

ric figures with extreme facility and places the insets with
a security which has a tinge of nonchalance, or of slight
contempt for an exercise that is too easy. This is the mo-
ment in which the child may be led to a methodical ob-
servation of the forms. We change the forms in the frame
and pass from contrasted frames to analogous ones. The
exercise is easy for the child, who habituates himself to
placing the pieces in their frames without errors or false
attempts.

The first period of these exercises is at the time when
the child is obliged to make repeated trials with figures
that are strongly contrasted in form. The recognition is
greatly helped by associating with the visual sense the
muscular-tactile perception of the forms. I have the child
touch* the contour of the piece with the index finger of his
right hand,, and then have him repeat this with the contour
of the frame into which the pieces must fit. We succeed
in making this a habit with the child. This is very easily
attained, since all children love to touch things. I have
already learned, through my work with deficient children,
that among the various forms of sense memory that of the
muscular sense is the most precocious. Indeed, many chil-
dren who have not arrived at the point of recognising a
figure ~by looking at it, could recognise it by touching it,
that is, by computing the movements necessary to the fol-
lowing of its contour. The same is true of the greater
number of normal children ; — confused as to where to
place a figure, they turn it about trying in vain to fit it in,
yet as soon as they have touched the two contours of the
piece and its frame, they succeed in placing it perfectly.

* Here and elsewhere throughout the book the word " touch " is
used not only to express contact between the fingers and an object,
but the moving of fingers or hand over an object or its outline.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 199

Undoubtedly, the association of the muscular-tactile sense
with that of vision, aids in a most remarkable way the
perception of forms and fixes them in memory.

In such exercises, the control is absolute, as it was in
the solid insets. The figure can only enter the correspond-
ing frame. This makes it possible for the child to work
by himself, and to accomplish a genuine sensory auto-edu-
cation, in the visual perception of form.

Exercise with the three series of cards. First series.
We give the child the wooden forms and the cards upon
which the white figure is mounted. Then we mix the
cards upon the table; the child must arrange them in a
line upon his table (which he loves to do), and then place
the corresponding wooden pieces upon the cards. Here
the control lies in the eyes. The child must recognise this
figure, and place the wooden piece upon it so perfectly that
it will cover and hide the paper figure. The eye of the
child here corresponds to the frame, which materially led
him at first to bring the two pieces together. In addition
to covering the figure, the child is to accustom himself to
touching the contour of the mounted figures as a part of
the exercise (the child always voluntarily follows those
movements) ; and after he has placed the wooden inset he
again touches the contour, adjusting with his finger the
superimposed piece until it exactly covers the form be-
neath.

Second Series. We give a number of cards to the child
together with the corresponding wooden insets. In this
second series, the figures are repeated by an outline of
blue paper. The child through these exercises is passing
gradually from the concrete to the abstract. At first, he
handled only solid objects. He then passed to a plane
figure, that is, to the plane which in itself does not exist.

200 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

He is now passing to the line, but this line does not repre-
sent for him the abstract contour of a plane figure. It is
to him the path which he has so often followed with his
index finger; this line is the trace of a movement. Follow-
ing again the contour of the figure with his finger, the
child receives the impression of actually leaving a trace,
for the figure is covered by his finger and appears as he
moves it. It is the eye now which guides the movement,
but it must be remembered that this movement was already
prepared for when the child touched the contours of the
solid pieces of wood.

Third Series. We now present to the child the cards
upon which the figures are drawn in black, giving him, as
before, the corresponding wooden pieces. Here, he has
actually passed to the line; that is, to an abstraction, yet
here, too, there is the idea of the result of a movement.

This cannot be, it is true, the trace left by the finger,
but, for example, that of a pencil which is guided by the
hand in the same movements made before. These geomet-
ric figures in simple outline have grown out of a gradual
series of representations which were concrete to vision and
touch. These representations return to the mind of the
child when he performs the exercise of superimposing the
corresponding wooden figures.

III. Differential Visual Perception of Colours: — Edu-
cation of the Chromatic Sense

In many of our lessons on the colours, we make use of
pieces of brightly-coloured stuffs, and of balls covered with
wool of different colours. The didactic material for the
education of the chromatic sense is the following, which I
have established after a long series of tests made upon nor-
mal, children, (in the institute for deficients, I used as I

(A) LACING. (B> SHOE BUTTONING. 'Q BUTTONING OF OTHER GARMENTS.
(D) HOOKS AND EYES. Frames illustrating the different processes of dressing and

undressing.

TABLETS WOUND WITH COLOURED SILK

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

are kept.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 201

have said above, the geometric insets). The present ma-
terial consists of small flat tablets, which are wound with
coloured wool or silk. These tablets have a little wooden
border at each end which prevents the silk-covered card
from touching the table. The child is also taught to take
hold of the piece by these wooden extremities, so that he
need not soil the delicate colours. In this way, we are
able to use this material for a long time without having to
renew it.

I have chosen eight tints, and each one has with it eight
gradations of different intensity of colour. There are,
therefore, sixty-four colour-tablets in all. The eight tints
selected are black (from grey to white), red, orange, yel-
low, green, blue, violet and brown. We have duplicate
boxes of these sixty-four colours, giving us two of each
exercise. The entire set, therefore, consists of one hun-
dred twenty-eight tablets. They are contained in two
boxes, each divided into eight equal compartments so that
one box may contain sixty-four tablets.

Exercises with the Colour-tablets. For the earliest of
these exercises, we select three strong colours : for example,
red, blue, and yellow, in pairs. These six tablets we place
upon the table before the child. Showing him one of the
colours, we ask him to find its duplicate among the mixed
tablets upon the table. In this way, we have him arrange
the colour-tablets in a column, two by two, pairing them
according to colour.

The number of tablets in this game may be increased
until the eight colours, or sixteen tablets, are given at once.
When the strongest tones have been presented, we may
proceed to the presentation of lighter tones, in the same
way. Finally, we present two or three tablets of the same
colour, but of different tone, showing the child how to

202 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

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

Following this, we place before the child the eight
gradations of two different colours (red and blue) ; he is
shown how to separate the groups and then arrange each
group in gradation. As we proceed we offer groups of
more nearly related colours ; for example, blue and violet,
yellow and orange, etc.

In one of the " Children's Houses," I have seen the
following game played with the greatest success and inter-
est, and with surprising rapidity. The directress places
upon a table, about which the children are seated, as many
colour groups as there are children, for example, three.
She then calls each child's attention to the colour each is to
select, or which she assigns to him. Then, she mixes the
three groups of colours upon the table. Each child takes
rapidly from the mixed heap of tablets all the gradations
of his colour, and proceeds to arrange the tablets, which,
when thus placed in a line, give the appearance of a strip
of shaded ribbon.

In another " House," I have seen the children take the
entire box, empty the sixty-four colour-tablets upon the
table and after carefully mixing them, rapidly collect them
into groups and arrange them in gradation, constructing a
species of little carpet of delicately coloured and inter-
mingling tints. The children very quickly acquire an
ability before which we stand amazed. Children of three
years are able to put all of the tints into gradation.

Experiments in Colour-memory. Experiments in col-
our-memory may be made by showing the child a tint, al-
lowing him to look at it as long as he will, and then asking
him to go to a distant table upon which all of the colours
are arranged and to select from among them the tint simi-

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 203

lar to the one at which he has looked. The children suc-
ceed in this game remarkably, committing only slight
errors. Children of five years enjoy this immensely, taking
great pleasure in comparing the two spools and judging as
to whether they have chosen correctly.

At the beginning of my work, I made use of an instru-
ment invented by Pizzoli. This consisted of a small
brown disk having a half -moon shape opening at the top.
Various colours were made to pass behind this opening, by
means of a rotary disk which was composed of strips of
various colours. The teacher called the attention of the
child to a certain colour, then turned the disk, asking him
to indicate the same disk when it again showed itself in
the opening. This exercise rendered the child inactive,
preventing him from controlling the material. It is not,
therefore, an instrument which can promote the education
of the senses.

EXERCISE FOE THE DISCBIMINATION' OF SOUNDS

It would be desirable to have in this connection the
didactic material used for the " auricular education " in
the principal institutions for deaf mutes in Germany and
America. These exercises are an introduction to the ac-
quisition of language, and serve in a very special way to
centre the children's discriminative attention upon the
" modulations of the sound of the human voice."

With very young children linguistic education must occu-
py a most important place. Another aim of such exercises
is to educate the ear of the child to noises so that he shall
accustom himself to distinguish every slight noise and
compare it with sounds, coming to resent harsh or dis-
ordered noises. Such sense education has a value in that
it exercises esthetic taste, and may be applied in a most

204 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

noteworthy way to practical discipline. We all know how
the younger children disturb the order of the room by
shouts, and by the noise of over-turned objects.

The rigorous scientific education of the sense of hear-
ing is not practically applicable to the didactic method.
This is true because the child cannot exercise himself
through his own activity as he does for the other senses.
Only one child at a time can work with any instrument
producing the gradation of sounds. In other words, ab-
solute silence is necessary for the discrimination of sounds.

Signorina Maccheroni, Directress, first of the " Chil-
dren's House " in Milan and later in the one in Erancis-
can Convent at Eome, has invented and has had manufac-
tured a series of thirteen bells hung upon a wooden frame.
These bells are to all appearances, identical, but the vibra-
tions brought about by a blow of a hammer produce the
following thirteen notes :

The set consists of a double series of thirteen bells and
there are four hammers. Having struck one of the bells
in the first series, the child must find the corresponding
sound in the second. This exercise presents grave diffi-
culty, as the child does not know how to strike each time
with the same force, and therefore produces sounds which
vary in intensity. Even when the teacher strikes the bells,
the children have difficulty in distinguishing between
sounds. So we do not feel that this instrument in its pres-
ent form is entirely practical.

For the discrimination of sounds, we use Pizzoli's series
of little whistles. Eor the gradation of noises, we use

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 205

small boxes filled with different substances, more or less
fine (sand or pebbles). The noises are produced by shak-
ing the boxes.

In the lessons for the sense of hearing I proceed as fol-
lows: I have the teachers establish silence in the usual
way and then I continue the work, making the silence more
profound. I say, " St ! St ! " in a series of modulations,
now sharp and short, now prolonged and light as a whisper.
The children, little by little, become fascinated by this.
Occasionally I say, " More silent still — more silent."

I then begin the sibilant St ! St ! again, making it always
lighter and repeating " More silent still," in a barely audi-
ble voice. Then I say still in a low whisper, " Now, I
hear the clock, now I can hear the buzzing of a fly's wings,
now I can hear the whisper of the trees in the garden."

The children, ecstatic with joy, sit in such absolute and
complete silence that the room seems deserted; then I
whisper, " Let us close our eyes." This exercise repeated,
so habituates the children to immobility and to absolute
silence that, when one of them interrupts, it needs only a
syllable, a gesture to call him back immediately to perfect
order.

In the silence, we proceeded to the production of sounds
and noises, making these at first strongly contrasted, then,
more nearly alike. Sometimes we present the comparisons
between noise and sound. I believe that the best results can
be obtained with the primitive means employed by Itard
in 1805. He used the drum and the bell. His plan was
a graduated series of drums for the noises, — or, better, for
the heavy harmonic sounds, since these belong to a musical
instrument, — and a series of bells. The diapason, the
whistles, the boxes, are not attractive to the child, and do
not educate the sense of hearing as do these other instru-

206 THE MOISTTESSOKI METHOD

ments. There is an interesting suggestion in the fact that
the two great human institutions, that of hate (war), and
that of love (religion), have adopted these two opposite
instruments, the drum and the bell.

I believe that after establishing silence it would be edu-
cational to ring well-toned bells, now calm and sweet, now
clear and ringing, sending their vibrations through the
child's whole body. And when, besides the education of
the ear, we have produced a vibratory education of the
whole body, through these wisely selected sounds of the
bells, giving a peace that pervades the very fibres of his
being, then I believe these young bodies would be sensitive
to crude noises, and the children would come to dislike,
and to cease from making, disordered and ugly noises.

In this way one whose ear has been trained by a musical
education suffers from strident or discordant notes. I need
give no illustration to make clear the importance of such
education for the masses in childhood. The new genera^
tion would be more calm, turning away from the confusion
and the discordant sounds, which strike the ear to-day in
one of the vile tenements where the poor live, crowded
together, left by us to abandon themselves to the lower,
more brutal human instincts.

Musical Education

This must be carefully guided by method. In general,
we see little children pass by the playing of some great
musicians as an animal would pass. They do not perceive
the delicate complexity of sounds. The street children
gather about the organ grinder, crying out as if to hail with
joy the noises which will come instead of sounds.

For the musical education we must create instruments
as well as music. The scope of such an instrument in

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 207

addition to the discrimination of sounds, is to awaken a
sense of rhythm, and, so to speak, to give the impulse
toward calm and co-ordinate movements to those muscles
already vibrating in the peace and tranquillity of immobil-
ity.

I believe that stringed instruments (perhaps some very
much simplified harp) would be the most convenient. The
stringed instruments together with the drum and the bells
form the trio of the classic instruments of humanity. The
harp is the instrument of " the intimate life of the individ-
ual." Legend places it in the hand of Orpheus, folk-lore
puts it into fairy hands, and romance gives it to the prin-
cess who conquers the heart of a wicked prince.

The teacher who turns her back upon her scholars to
play, (far too often badly), will never be the educator of
their musical sense.

The child needs to be charmed in every way, by the
glance as well as by the pose. The teacher who, bending to-
ward them, gathering them about her, and leaving them free
to stay or go, touches the chords, in a simple rhythm, puts
herself in communication with them, in relation with their
very souls. So much the better if this touch can be accom-
panied by her voice, and the children left free to follow
her, no one being obliged to sing. In this way she can
select as " adapted to education," those songs which were
followed by all the children. So she may regulate the
complexity of rhythm to various ages, for she will see
now only the older children following the rhythm, now,
also the little ones. At any rate, I believe that simple and
primitive instruments are the ones best adapted to the
awakening of music in the soul of the little child.

I have tried to have the Directress of the " Children's
House " in Milan, who is a gifted musician, make a num-

208 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

ber of trials, and experiments, with a view to finding out
more about the muscular capacity of young children. She
has made many trials with the pianoforte, observing how
the children are not sensitive to the musical tone., but only
to the rhythm. On a basis of rhythm she arranged simple
little dances, with the intention of studying the influence
of the rhythm itself upon the co-ordination of muscular
movements. She was greatly surprised to discover the
educational disciplinary effect of such music. Her chil-
dren, who had been led with great wisdom and art through
liberty to a spontaneous ordering of their acts and move-
ments, had nevertheless lived in the streets and courts, and
had an almost universal habit of jumping.

Being a faithful follower of the method of liberty, and
not considering that jumping was a wrong act, she had
never corrected them.

She now noticed that as she multiplied and repeated the
rhythm exercises, the children little by little left off their
ugly jumping, until finally it was a thing of the past. The
directress one day asked for an explanation of this change
of conduct. Several little ones looked at her without say-
ing anything. The older children gave various replies,
whose meaning was the same.

" It isn't nice to jump."

" Jumping is ugly."

" It's rude to jump."

This was certainly a beautiful triumph for our method !

This experience shows that it is possible to educate the
child's muscular sense, and it shows how exquisite the re-
finement of this sense may be as it develops in relation to
the muscular memory, and side by side with the other forms
of sensory memory.

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 209

Tests for Acuteness of Hearing

The only entirely successful experiments which we have
made so far in the " Children's Houses " are those of the
clock, and of the lowered or whispered voice. The trial is
purely empirical, and does not lend itself to the measuring
of the sensation, but it is, however, most useful in that it
helps us to an approximate knowledge of the child's audi-
tory acuteness.

The exercise consists in calling attention, when perfect
silence has been established, to the ticking of the clock,
and to all the little noises not commonly audible to the ear.
Finally we call the little ones, one by one from an adjoin-
ing room, pronouncing each name in a low voice. In pre-
paring for such an exercise it is necessary to teach the chil-
dren the real meaning of silence.

Toward this end I have several games of silence, which
help in a surprising way to strengthen the remarkable
discipline of our children.

I call the children's attention to myself, telling them to
see how silent I can be. I assume different positions;
standing, sitting, and maintain each pose silently, without
movement. A finger moving can produce a noise, even
though it be imperceptible. We may breathe so that we
may be heard. But I maintain absolute silence, which is
not an easy thing to do. I call a child, and ask him to do
as I am doing. He adjusts his feet to a better position,
and this makes a noise ! He moves an arm, stretching it
out upon the arm of his chair ; it is a noise. His breathing
is not altogether silent, it is not tranquil, absolutely un-
heard as mine is.

During these mano2uvres on the part of the child, and

210 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

while my brief comments are followed by intervals of im-
mobility and silence, the other children are watching and
listening. Many of them are interested in the fact, which
they have never noticed before; namely, that we make so
many noises of which we are not conscious, and that there
are degrees of silence. There is an absolute silence where
nothing, absolutely nothing moves. They watch me in
amazement when I stand in the middle of the room, so
quietly that it is really as if " I were not." Then they
strive to imitate me, and to do even better. I call attention
here and there to a foot that moves, almost inadvertently.
The attention of the child is called to every part of his
body in an anxious eagerness to attain to immobility.

When the children are trying in this way, there is es-
tablished a silence very different from that which we care-
lessly call by that name.

It seems as if life gradually vanishes, and that the room
becomes, little by little, empty, as if there were no longer
anyone in it. Then we begin to hear the tick-tock of the
clock, and this sound seems to grow in intensity as the
silence becomes absolute. From without, from the court
which before seemed silent, there come varied noises, a
bird chirps, a child passes. The children sit fascinated by
that silence as if by some conquest of their own. " Here,"
says the directress, " here there is no longer anyone ; the
children have all gone away."

Having arrived at that point, we darken the windows,
and tell the children to close their eyes, resting their heads
upon their hands. They assume this position, and in the
darkness the absolute silence returns.

" Now listen," we say. " A soft voice is going to call
your name." Then going to a room behind the children,
and standing within the open door, I call in a low voice,

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 211

lingering over the syllables as if I were calling from across
the mountains. This voice, almost occult, seems to reach
the heart and to call to the soul of the child. Each one as
he is called, lifts his head, opens his eyes as if altogether
happy, then rises, silently seeking not to move the chair,
and walks on the tips of his toes, so quietly that he is
scarcely heard. Nevertheless his step resounds in the
silence, and amid the immobility which persists.

Having reached the door, with a joyous face, he leaps
into the room, choking back soft outbursts of laughter.
Another child may come to hide his face against my dress,
another, turning, will watch his companions sitting like
statues silent and waiting. The one who is called feels that
he is privileged, that he has received a gift, a prize. And
yet they know that all will be called, " beginning with the
most silent one in all the room." So each one tries to
merit by his perfect silence the certain call. I once saw a
little one of three years try to suffocate a sneeze, and suc-
ceed! She held her breath in her little breast, and re-
sisted, coming out victorious. A most surprising effort !

This game delights the little ones beyond measure.
Their intent faces, their patient immobility, reveal the
enjoyment of a great pleasure. In the beginning, when
the soul of the child was unknown to me, I had thought
of showing them sweetmeats and little toys, promising to
give them to the ones who were called, supposing that the
gifts would be necessary to persuade the child to make the
necessary effort. But I soon found that this was unneces-
sary.

The children, after they had made the effort necessary
to maintain silence, enjoyed the sensation, took pleasure
in the silence itself. They were like ships safe in a tran-
quil harbour, happy in having experienced something new,

212 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

and to have won a victory over themselves. This, indeed,
was their recompense. They forgot the promise of sweets,
and no longer cared to take the toys, which I had supposed
would attract them. I therefore abandoned that useless
means, and saw, with surprise, that the game became con-
stantly more perfect, until even children of three years of
age remained immovable in the silence throughout the time
required to call the entire forty children out of the room !

It was then that I learned that the soul of the child has
its own reward, and its peculiar spiritual pleasures. After
such exercises it seemed to me that the children came closer
to me, certainly they became more obedient, more gentle
and sweet. We had, indeed, been isolated from the world,
and had passed several minutes during which the com-
munion between us was very close, I wishing for them and
calling to them, and they receiving in the perfect silence
the voice which was directed personally toward each one of
them, crowning each in turn with happiness.

A Lesson in Silence

I am about to describe a lesson which proved most suc-
cessful in teaching the perfect silence to which it is possible
to attain. One day as I was about to enter one of the
" Children's Houses," I met in the court a mother who held
in her arms her little baby of four months. The little one
was swaddled, as is still the custom among the people of
Rome — an infant thus in the swaddling bands is called
by us a pupa. This tranquil little one seemed the incarna-
tion of peace. I took her in my arms, where she lay quiet
and good. Still holding her I went toward the schoolroom,
from which the children now ran to meet me. They al-
ways welcomed me thus, throwing their arms about me,
clinging to my skirts, and almost tumbling me over in

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 213

their eagerness. I smiled at them, showing them the
" pupa." They understood and skipped about me looking
at me with eyes brilliant with pleasure, but did not touch
me through respect for the little one that I held in my
arms.

I went into the schoolroom with the children clustered
about me. We sat down, I seating myself in a large chair
instead of, as usual, in one of their little chairs. In other
words, I seated myself solemnly. They looked at my little
one with a mixture of tenderness and joy. None of us
had yet spoken a word. Finally I said to them, " I have
brought you a little teacher." Surprised glances and
laughter. " A little teacher, yes, because none of you
know how to be quiet as she does." At this all the children
changed their positions and became quiet. " Yet no one
holds his limbs and feet as quietly as she." Everyone gave
closer attention to the position of limbs and feet. I looked
at them smiling, " Yes, but they can never be as quiet as
hers. You move a little bit, but she, not at all; none of
you can be as quiet as she." The children looked serious.
The idea of the superiority of the little teacher seemed to
have reached them. Some of them smiled, and seemed to
say with their eyes that the swaddling bands deserved all
the merit. " Not one of you can be silent, voiceless as
she." General silence. " It is not possible to be as silent
as she, because, — listen to her breathing — how delicate it
is ; come near to her on your tiptoes."

Several children rose, and came slowly forward on tip-
toe, bending toward the baby. Great silence. " None of
you can breathe so silently as she." The children looked
about amazed, they had never thought that even when sit-
ting quietly they were making noises, and that the silence
of a little babe is more profound than the silence of

214 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

grown people. They almost ceased to breathe. I rose.
" Go out quietly, quietly," I said, " walk on the tips of your
toes and make no noise." Following them I said, " And
yet I still hear some sounds, but she, the baby, walks with
me and makes no sound. She goes out silently ! " The
children smiled. They understood the truth and the jest
of my words, I went to the open window, and placed the
baby in the arms of the mother who stood watching us.

The little one seemed to have left behind her a subtle
charm which enveloped the souls of the children. Indeed,
there is in nature nothing more sweet than the silent breath-
ing of a new-born babe. There is an indescribable majesty
about this human life which in repose and silence gathers
strength and newness of life. Compared to this, Words-
worth's description of the silent peace of nature seems to
lose its f orce, " What calm, what quiet ! The one sound
the drip of the suspended oar." The children, too, felt
the poetry and beauty in the peaceful silence of a new-
born human life.

CHAPTEE XIV

GENERAL NOTES ON THE EDUCATION OF THE SENSES

I DO not claim to have brought to perfection the method
of sense training as applied to young children. I do
believe, however, that it opens a new field for psycholog-
ical research, promising rich and valuable results.

Experimental psychology has so far devoted its atten-
tion to perfecting the instruments by which the sensations
are measured. No one has attempted the methodical
preparation of the individual for the sensations. It is my
belief that the development of psychometry will owe more
to the attention given to the preparation of the individual
than to the perfecting of the instrument.

But putting aside this purely scientific side of the ques-
tion, the education of the senses must be of the greatest
pedagogical interest.

Our aim in education in general is two-fold, biological
and social. From the biological side we wish to help the
natural development of the individual, from the social
standpoint it is our aim to prepare the individual for the
environment. Under this last head technical education
may be considered as having a place, since it teaches the
individual to make use of his surroundings. The educa-
tion of the senses is most important from both these points
of view. The development of the senses indeed precedes
that of superior intellectual activity and the child between
three and seven years is in the period of formation.

215

216 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

We can, then, help the development of the senses while
they are in this period. We may graduate and adapt
the stimuli just as, for example, it is necessary to help
the formation of language before it shall be completely
developed.

All education of little children must be governed by
this principle — to help the natural psychic and physical
development of the child.

The other aim of education (that of adapting the indi-
vidual to the environment) should be given more atten-
tion later on when the period of intense development is
past.

These two phases of education are always interlaced,
but one or the other has prevalence according to the age
of the child. Now, the period of life between the ages
of three and seven years covers a period of rapid physical
development. It is the time for the formation of the
sense activities as related to the intellect. The child in
this age develops his senses. His attention is further
attracted to the environment under the form of passive
curiosity.

The stimuli, and not yet the reasons for things, attract
his attention. This is, therefore, the time when we
should methodically direct the sense stimuli, in such a
way that the sensations which he receives shall develop
in a rational way. This sense training will prepare the
ordered foundation upon which he may build up a clear
and strong mentality.

It is, besides all this, possible with the education of
the senses to discover and eventually to correct defects
which to-day pass unobserved in the school. Now the
time comes when the defect manifests itself in an evident
and irreparable inability to make use of the forces of

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 217

life about him. (Such defects as deafness and near-
sightedness.) This education, therefore, is physiological
and prepares directly for intellectual education, perfect-
ing the organs of sense, and the nerve-paths of projection
and association.

But the other part of education, the adaptation of the
individual to his environment, is indirectly touched. We
prepare with our method the infancy of the humanity of
our time. The men of the present civilisation are pre-
eminently observers of their environment because they
must utilise to the greatest possible extent all the riches
of this environment.

The art of to-day bases itself, as in the days of the
Greeks, upon observation of the truth.

The progress of positive science is based upon its ob-
servations and all its discoveries and their applications,
which in the last century have so transformed our civic
environment, were made by following the same line —
that is, they have come through observation. We must
therefore prepare the new generation for this attitude,
which has become necessary in our modern civilised life.
It is an indispensable means — man must be so armed
if he is to continue efficaciously the work of our progress.

We have seen the discovery of the Roentgen Rays born
of observation. To the same methods are due the dis-
covery of Hertzian waves, and vibrations of radium, and
we await wonderful things from the Marconi telegraph.
While there has been no period in which thought has
gained so much from positive study as the present cen-
tury, and this same century promises new light in the
field of speculative philosophy and upon spiritual ques-
tions, the theories upon the matter have themselves led to
most interesting metaphysical concepts. We may say

218 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

that in preparing the method of observation, we have also
prepared the way leading to spiritual discovery.

The education of the senses makes men observers, and
not only accomplishes the general work of adaptation to
the present epoch of civilisation, but also prepares them
directly for practical life. We have had up to the present
time, I believe, a most imperfect idea of what is neces-
sary in the practical living of life. We have always
started from ideas, and have proceeded thence to motor
activities; thus, for example, the method of education
has always been to teach intellectually, and then to have
the child follow the principles he has been taught. In
general, when we are teaching, we talk about the object
which interests us, and then we try to lead the scholar,
when he has understood, to perform some kind of work
with the object itself; but often the scholar who has
understood the idea finds great difficulty in the execution
of the work which we give him, because we have left out
of his education a factor of the utmost importance,
namely, the perfecting of the senses. I may, perhaps,
illustrate this statement with a few examples. We ask
the cook to buy only ' fresh fish.' She understands the
idea, and tries to follow it in her marketing, but, if the
cook has not been trained to recognise through sight and
smell the signs which indicate freshness in the fish, she
will not know how to follow the order we have given her.

Such a lack will show itself much more plainly in
culinary operations. A cook may be trained in book
matters, and may know exactly the recipes and the length
of time advised in her cook book; she may be able to
perform all the manipulations necessary to give the de-
sired appearance to the dishes, but when it is a question

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 219

of deciding from the odor o± the dish the exact moment
of its being properly cooked, or with the eye, or the taste,
the time at which she must put in some given condiment,
then she will make a mistake if her senses have not been
sufficiently prepared.

She can only gain such ability through long practice,
and such practice on the part of the cook is nothing else
than a belated education of the senses — an education
which often can never be properly attained by the adult.
This is one reason why it is so difficult to find good cooks.

Something of the same kind is true of the physician,
the student of medicine who studies theoretically the
character of the pulse, and sits down by the bed of the
patient with the best will in the world to read the pulse,
but, if his fingers do not know how to read the sensations
his studies will have been in vain. Before he can be-
come a doctor, he must gain a capacity for discriminating
between sense stimuli.

The same may be said for the pulsations of the heart,
which the student studies in theory, but which the ear
can learn to distinguish only through practice.

We may say the same for all the delicate vibrations
and movements, in the reading of which the hand of the
physician is too often deficient. The thermometer is the
more indispensable to the physician the more his sense
of touch is unadapted and untrained in the gathering of
the thermic stimuli. It is well understood that the physi-
cian may be learned, and most intelligent, without being
a good practitioner, and that to make a good practitioner
long practice is necessary. In reality, this long practice
is nothing else than a tardy, and often inefficient, exer-
cise of the senses. After he has assimilated the brilliant
theories, the physician sees himself forced to the unpleas-

220 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

ant labor of the semiography, that is to making a record
of the symptoms revealed by his ' observation of and ex-
periments with the patients. He must do this if he is to
receive from these theories any practical results.

Here, then, we have the beginner proceeding in a
stereotyped way to tests of palpation, percussion, and
auscultation, for the purpose of identifying the throbs,
the resonance, the tones, the breathings, and the various
sounds which alone can enable him to formulate a diagno-
sis. Hence the deep and unhappy discouragement of so
many young physicians, and, above all, the loss of time;
for it is often a question of lost years. Then, there is the
immorality of allowing a man to follow a profession of
so great responsibility, when, as is often the case, he is so
unskilled and inaccurate in the taking of symptoms. The
whole art of medicine is based upon an education of the
senses; the schools, instead, prepare physicians through a
study of the classics. All very well and good, but the
splendid intellectual development of the physician falls,
impotent, before the insufficiency of his senses.

One day, I heard a surgeon giving, to a number of
poor mothers, a lesson on the recognition of the first de-
formities noticeable in little children from the disease
of rickets. It was his hope to lead these mothers to bring
to him their children who were suffering from this dis-
ease, while the disease was yet in the earliest stages, and
when medical help might still be efficacious. The
mothers understood the idea, but they did not know how
to recognise these first signs of deformity, because they
were lacking in the sensory education through which they
might discriminate between signs deviating only slightly
from the normal.

Therefore those lessons were useless. If we think of it

EDUCATION OF THE SENSES 221

for a minute, we will see that almost all the forms of
adulteration in food stuffs are rendered possible by the
torpor of the senses, which exists in the greater number of
people. Fraudulent industry feeds upon the lack of
sense education in the masses, as any kind of fraud is
based upon the ignorance of the victim. We often see
the purchaser throwing himself upon the honesty of the
merchant, or putting his faith in the company, or the
label upon the box. This is because purchasers are lack-
ing in the capacity of judging directly for themselves.
They do not know how to distinguish with their senses
the different qualities of various substances. In fact, we
may say that in many cases intelligence is rendered use-
less by lack of practice, and this practice is almost always
sense education. Everyone knows in practical life the
fundamental necessity of judging with exactness between
various stimuli.

But very often sense education is most difficult for the
adult, just as it is difficult for him to educate his hand
when he wishes to become a pianist. It is necessary to
begin the education of the senses in the formative period,
if we wish to perfect this sense development with the
education which is to follow. The education of the
senses should be begun methodically in infancy, and
should continue during the entire period of instruction
which is to prepare the individual for life in society.

Esthetic and moral education are closely related to
this sensory education. Multiply the sensations, and de-
velop the capacity of appreciating fine differences in
stimuli, and we refine the sensibility and multiply man's
pleasures.

Beauty lies in harmony, not in contrast; and harmony
is refinement; therefore, there must be a fineness of the

222 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

senses if we are to appreciate harmony. The a3sthetio
harmony of nature is lost upon him who has coarse
senses. The world to him is narrow and barren. In life
about us, there exist inexhaustible fonts of aesthetic en-
joyment, before which men pass as insensible as the brutes
seeking their enjoyment in those sensations which are
crude and showy, since they are the only ones accessible
to them.

Now, from the enjoyment of gross pleasures, vicious
habits very often spring. Strong stimuli, indeed, do not
render acute, but blunt the senses, so that they require
stimuli more and more accentuated and more and more
gross.

Onanism, so often found among normal children of
the lower classes, alcoholism, fondness for watching sen-
sual acts of adults — these things represent the enjoyment
of those unfortunate ones whose intellectual pleasures are
few, and whose senses are blunted and dulled. Such
pleasures kill the man within the individual, and call to
life the beast.

Indeed from the physiological point of view, the im-
portance of the education of the senses is evident from an

observation of the scheme of the dia-
/> i

grammatic arc which represents the
functions of the nervous system. The
external stimulus acts upon the organ
of sense, and the impression is trans-
=EE/f mitted along the centripetal way to

8 — Sense, C — Nerve the nerve centre — the corresponding
centre. M — Motor. . -, . , , , , i .

motor impulse is elaborated, and is

transmitted along the centrifugal path to the organ of
motion, provoking a movement. Although the arc repre-
sents diagrammatically the mechanism of reflex spinal

EDUCATION OE THE SENSES 223

actions, it may still be considered as a fundamental key
explaining the phenomena of the more complex nervous
mechanisms. Man, with the peripheral sensory system,
gathers various stimuli from his environment. He puts
himself thus in direct communication with his surround-
ings. The psychic life develops, therefore, in relation to
the system of nerve centres; and human activity which
is eminently social activity, manifests itself through acts
of the individual — manual work, writing, spoken lan-
guage, etc. — by means of the psychomotor organs.

Education should guide and perfect the development
of the three periods, the two peripheral and the central;
or, better still, since the process fundamentally reduces
itself to the nerve centres, education should give to psycho-
sensory exercises the same importance which it gives to
psychomotor exercises.

Otherwise, we isolate man from his environment. In-
deed, when with intellectual culture we believe ourselves
to have completed education, we have but made thinkers,
whose tendency will be to live without the world. We
have not made practical men. If, on the other hand,
wishing through education to prepare for practical life,
we limit ourselves to exercising the psychomotor phase,
we lose sight of the chief end of education, which is to
put man in direct communication with the external world.

Since professional work almost always requires man to
make use of his surroundings, the technical schools are not
forced to return to the very beginnings of education, sense
exercises, in order to supply the great and universal lack.

CHAPTEE XV

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION

". . .To lead the child from the educa-
tion of the senses to ideas."

— Edward S6guin.

THE sense exercises constitute a species of auto-educa-
tion, which, if these exercises be many times repeated,
leads to a perfecting of the child's psychosensory proc-
esses. The directress must intervene to lead the child
from sensations to ideas — from the concrete to the ab-
stract, and to the association of ideas. For this, she
should use a method tending to isolate the inner attention
of the child and to fix it upon the perceptions — as in the
first lessons his objective attention was fixed, through
isolation, upon single stimuli.

The teacher, in other words, when she gives a lesson
must seek to limit the field of the child's consciousness to
to object of the lesson, as, for example, during the sense
education she isolated the sense which she wished the child
to exercise.

For this, knowledge of a special technique is necessary.
The educator must, " to the greatest possible extent, limit
his intervention; yet he must not allow the child to weary
himself in an undue effort of auto-education/'

It is here, that the factor of individual limitation and
differing degrees of perception are most keenly felt in
the teacher. In other words, in the quality of this inter-

224

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 225

vention lies the art which makes up the individuality of
the teacher.

A definite and undoubted part of the teacher's work is
that of teaching an exact nomenclature.

She should, in most cases, pronounce the necessary
names and adjectives without adding anything further.
These words she should pronounce distinctly, and in a
clear strong voice, so that the various sounds composing the
word may he distinctly and plainly perceived by the
child.

So, for example, touching the smooth and rough cards
in the first tactile exercise, she should say, " This is
smooth. This is rough," repeating the words with
varying modulations of the voice, always letting the tones
be clear and the enunciation very distinct. " Smooth,
smooth, smooth. Rough, rough, rough."

In the same way, when treating of the sensations of
heat and cold, she must say, " This is cold." " This is
hot." "This is ice-cold." "This is tepid." She may
then begin to use the generic terms, " heat," " more heat,"
" less heat," etc.

First. " The lessons in nomenclature must consist
simply in provoking the association of the name with the
object, or with the abstract idea which the name repre-
sents." Thus the object and the name must be united
when they are received by the child's mind, and this makes
it most necessary that no other word besides the name be
spoken.

Second. The teacher must always test whether or not
her lesson has attained the end she had in view, and her
tests must be made to come within the restricted field of
consciousness, provoked by the lesson on nomenclature.

The first test will be to find whether the name is still

226 THE MOOTESSOKI METHOD

associated in the child's mind with the object. She must
allow the necessary time to elapse, letting a short period
of silence intervene between the lesson and the test. Then
she may ask the child, pronouncing slowly and very clearly
the name or the adjective she has taught : " Which is
smooth ? Which is rough ? "

The child will point to the object with his finger, and
the teacher will know that he has made the desired asso-
ciation. But if he has not done this, that is, if he makes
a mistake, she must not correct him, but must suspend her
lesson, to take it up again another day. Indeed, why
correct him ? If the child has not succeeded in associ-
ating the name with the object, the only way in which to
succeed would be to repeat both the action of the sense
stimuli and the name; in other words, to repeat the lesson.
But when the child has failed, we should know that he
was not at that instant ready for the psychic association
which we wished to provoke in him, and we must there-
fore choose another moment.

If we should say, in correcting the child, " No, you
have made a mistake," all these words, which, being in
the form of a reproof, would strike him more forcibly
than others (such as smooth or rough), would remain in
the mind of the child, retarding the learning of the names.
On the contrary, the silence which follows the error leaves
the field of consciousness clear, and the next lesson may
successfully follow the first. In fact, by revealing the
error we may lead the child to make an undue effort to
remember, or we may discourage him, and it is our duty
to avoid as much as possible all unnatural effort and all
depression.

Third. If the child has not committed any error, the
teacher may provoke the motor activity corresponding to

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 227

the idea of the object : that is, to the pronunciation of the
name. She may ask him, " What is this ? " and the child
should respond, " Smooth." TLe teacher may then in-
terrupt, teaching him how to pronounce the word cor-
rectly and distinctly, first, drawing a deep breath and,
then, saying in a rather loud voice, " Smooth." When he
does this the teacher may note his particular speech de-
fect, or the special form of baby talk to which he may be
addicted.

In regard to the generalisation of the ideas received,
and by that I mean the application of these ideas to his
environment, I do not advise any lessons of this sort for
a certain length of time, even for a number of months.
There will be children who, after having touched a few
times the stuffs, or merely the smooth and rough cards,
will quite spontaneously touch the various surfaces about
them,, repeating " Smooth ! Rough ! It is velvet ! etc."
In dealing with normal children, we must await this spon-
taneous investigation of the surroundings, or, as I like to
call it, this voluntary explosion of the exploring spirit.
In such cases, the children experience a joy at each fresh
discovery. They are conscious of a sense of dignity and
satisfaction which encourages them to seek for new sensa-
tions from their environment and to make themselves
spontaneous observers.

The teacher should watch with the most solicitous care
to see when and how the child arrives at this generalisa-
tion of ideas. For example, one of our little four-yeai-
olds while running about in the court one day suddenly
stood still and cried out, " Oh ! the sky is blue ! " and stood
for some time looking up into the blue expanse of the sky.

One day, when I entered one of the " Children's
Houses," five or six little ones gathered quietly about me

228 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

and began caressing, lightly, my hands, and my clothing,
saying, " It is smooth." " It is velvet." " This is
rough." A number of others came near and began with
serious and intent faces to repeat the same words, touch-
ing me as they did so. The directress wished to interfere
to release me, but I signed to her to be quiet, and I myself
did not move, but remained silent, admiring this spon-
taneous intellectual activity of my little ones. The great-
est triumph of our educational method should always be
this : to 'bring about the spontaneous progress of the child.

One day, a little boy, following one of our exercises in
design, had chosen to fill in with coloured pencils the out-
line of a tree. To colour the trunk he laid hold upon a
red crayon. The teacher wished to interfere, saying,
" Do you think trees have red trunks ? " I held her back
and allowed the child to colour the tree red. This design
was precious to us; it showed that the child was not yet
an observer of his surroundings. My way of treating this
was to encourage the child to make use of the games for
the chromatic sense. He went daily into the garden with
the other children, and could at any time see the tree
trunks. When the sense exercises should have succeeded
in attracting the child's spontaneous attention to colours
about him, then, in some happy moment he would become
aware that the tree trunks were not red, just as the other
child during his play had become conscious of the fact
that the sky was blue. In fact, the teacher continued to
give the child outlines of trees to fill in. He one day
chose a brown pencil with which to colour the trunk, and
made the branches and leaves green. Later, he made the
branches brown, also, using green only for the leaves.

Thus we have the test of the child's intellectual prog-
ress. We can not create observers by saying, " observe,"

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 229

but by giving them the power and the means for this
observation, and these means are procured through edu-
cation of the senses. Once we have aroused such activity,
auto-education is assured, for refined well-trained senses
lead us to a closer observation of the environment, and
this, with its infinite variety, attracts the attention and
continues the psychosensory education.

If, on the other hand, in this matter of sense education
we single out definite concepts of the quality of certain
objects, these very objects become associated with, or a
part of, the training, which is in this way limited to those
concepts taken and recorded. So the sense training re-
mains unfruitful. When, for example, a teacher has
given in the old way a lesson on the names of the colours,
she has imparted an idea concerning that particular qual-
ity, but she has not educated the chromatic sense. The
child will know these colours in a superficial way, forget-
ting them from time to time ; and at best his appreciation
of them will lie within the limits prescribed by the
teacher. When, therefore, the teacher of the old methods
shall have provoked the generalisation of the idea, saying,
for example, " What is the colour of this flower ? " "of
this ribbon ? " the attention of the child will in all proba-
bility remain torpidly fixed upon the examples suggested
by her.

We may liken the child to a clock, and may say that
with the old-time way it is very much as if we were to
hold the wheels of the clock quiet and move the hands
about the clock face with our fingers. The hands will
continue to circle the dial just so long as we apply,
through our fingers, the necessary motor force. Even so
is it with that sort of culture which is limited to the work
which the teacher does with the child. The new method,

230 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

instead, may be compared to the process of winding, which
sets the entire mechanism in motion.

This motion is in direct relation with the machine, and
not with the work of winding. So the spontaneous
psychic development of the child continues indefinitely
and is in direct relation to the psychic potentiality of the
child himself, and not with the work of the teacher. The
movement, or the spontaneous psychic activity starts in
our case from the education of the senses and is main-
tained by the observing intelligence. Thus, for example,
the hunting dog receives his ability, not from the educa-
tion given by his master, but from the special acuteness
of his senses; and as soon as this physiological quality is
applied to the right environment, the exercise of hunting,
the increasing refinement of the sense perceptions, gives
the dog the pleasure and then the passion for the chase.
The same is true of the pianist who, refining at the same
time his musical sense and the agility of his hand, comes
to love more and more to draw new harmonies from the
instrument. This double perfection proceeds until at last
the pianist is launched upon a course which will be lim-
ited only by the personality which lies within him. Now
a student of physics may know all the laws of harmony
which form a part of his scientific culture, and yet he may
not know how to follow a most simple musical composi-
tion. His culture, however vast, will be bound by the
definite limits of his science. Our educational aim with
very young children must be to aid the spontaneous devel-
opment of the mental, spiritual, and physical personality,
and not to make of the child a cultured individual in the
commonly accepted sense of the term. So, after we have
offered to the child such didactic material as is adapted
to prpvoke the development of his senses, we must wait

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 231

until the activity known as observation develops. And
herein lies the art of the educator; in knowing how to
measure the action by which we help the young child's
personality to develop. To one whose attitude is right,
little children soon reveal profound individual differences
which call for very different kinds of help from the
teacher. Some of them require almost no intervention
on her part, while others demand actual teaching. It is
necessary, therefore, that the teaching shall be rigorously
guided by the principle of limiting to the greatest possible
point the active intervention of the educator.

Here are a number of games and problems which we
have used effectively in trying to follow this principle.

GAMES OF THE BLIND

The Games of the Blind are used for the most part as
exercises in general sensibility as follows :

The Stuffs. We have in our didactic material a pretty
little chest composed of drawers within which are ar-
ranged rectangular pieces of stuff in great variety. There
are velvet, satin, silk, cotton, linen, etc. We have the
child touch each of these pieces, teaching the appropriate
nomenclature and adding something regarding the qual-
ity, as coarse, fine, soft. Then, we call the child and seat
him at one of the tables where he can be seen by his com-
panions, blindfold him, and offer him the stuffs one by
one. He touches them, smooths them, crushes them be-
tween his fingers and decides, " It is velvet, — It is fine
linen, — It is rough cloth," etc. This exercise provokes
general interest. When we offer the child some unex-
pected foreign object, as, for example, a sheet of paper,
a veil, the little assembly trembles as it awaits his response.

Weight. We place the child in the same position, call

232 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

his attention to the tablets used for the education of the
sense of weight, have him notice again the already well-
known differences of weight, and then tell him to put all
the dark tablets, which are the heavier ones, at the right,
and all the light ones, which are the lighter, to the left.
We then blindfold him and he proceeds to the game, tak-
ing each time two tablets. Sometimes he takes two of
the same colour, sometimes two of different colours, but
in a position opposite to that in which he must arrange
them on his desk. These exercises are most exciting;
when, for example, the child has in his hands two of the
dark tablets and changes them from one hand to the other
uncertain, and finally places them together on the right,
the children watch in a state of intense eagerness, and a
great sigh often expresses their final relief. The shouts
of the audience when the entire game is followed without
an error, gives the impression that their little friend sees
with his hands the colours of the tablets.

Dimension and Form. We use games similar to the
preceding one, having the child distinguish between dif-
ferent coins, the cubes and bricks of Eroebel, and dry
seeds, such as beans and peas. But such games never
awaken the intense interest aroused by the preceding ones.
They are, however, useful and serve to associate with the
various objects those qualities peculiar to them, and also
to fix the nomenclature.

APPLICATION OF THE EDUCATION OF THE VISUAL SENSE TO
THE OBSERVATION OF THE ENVIRONMENT

Nomenclature. This is one of the most important
phases of education. Indeed, nomenclature prepares for
an exactness in the use of language which is not always
met with in our schools. Many children, for example,

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 233

use interchangeably the words thick and big, long and
high. With the methods already described, the teacher
may easily establish, by means of the didactic material,
ideas which are very exact and clear, and may associate
the proper word with these ideas.

Method of Using the Didactic Material

Dimensions. The directress, after the child has played
for a long time with the three sets of solid insets and has
acquired a security in the performance of the exercise,
takes out all the cylinders of equal height and places them
in a horizontal position on the table, one beside the other.
Then she selects the two extremes, saying, " This is the
thickest — This is the thinnest/' She places them side
by side so that the comparison may be more marked, and
then taking them by the little button, she compares the
bases, calling attention to the great difference. She then
places them again beside each other in a vertical position
in order to show that they are equal in height, and repeats
several times, " thick — thin." Having done this, she
should follow it with the test, asking, " Give me the thick-
est — Give me the thinnest," and finally she should pro-
ceed to the test of nomenclature, asking, " What is this ? "
In the lessons which follow this, the directress may take
away the two extreme pieces and may .repeat the lesson
with the two pieces remaining at the extremities, and so
on until she has used all the pieces. She may then take
these up at random, saying, " Give me one a little thicker
than this one," or " Give me one a little thinner than this
one." With the second set of solid insets she proceeds
in the same way. Here she stands the pieces upright, as
each one has a base sufficiently broad to maintain it in this
position, saying, " This is the highest " and " This is the

234 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

lowest." Then placing the two extreme pieces side by
side she may take them out of the line and compare the
bases, showing that they are equal. From the extremes
she may proceed as before, selecting each time the two
remaining pieces most strongly contrasted.

With the third solid inset, the directress, when she has
arranged the pieces in gradation, calls the child's atten-
tion to the first one, saying, " This is the largest," and to
the last one, saying, " This is the smallest." Then she
places them side by side and observes how they differ both
in height and in base. She then proceeds in the same
way as in the other two exercises.

Similar lessons may be given with the series of gradu-
ated prisms, of rods, and of cubes. The prisms are thick
and thin and of equal length. The rods are long and
short and of equal thickness. The cubes are big and little
and differ in size and in height.

The application of these ideas to environment will come
most easily when we measure the children with the an-
thropometer. They will begin among themselves to make
comparisons, saying, " I am taller, — you are thicker."
These comparisons are also made when the children hold
out their little hands to show that they are clean, and
the directress stretches hers out also, to show that she, too,
has clean hands. Often the contrast between the dimen-
sions of the hands calls forth laughter. The children
make a perfect game of measuring themselves. They
stand side by side; they look at each other; they decide.
Often they place themselves beside grown persons, and
observe with curiosity and interest the great difference in
height.

Form. When the child shows that he can with security
distinguish between the forms of the plane geometric in-

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 235

sets, the directress may begin the lessons in nomenclature.
She should begin with two strongly-contrasted forms, as
the square and the circle, and should follow the usual
method, using the three periods of Seguin. We do not
teach all the names relative to the geometric figures, giv-
ing only those of the most familiar forms, such as square,
circle, rectangle, triangle, oval. We now call attention
to the fact that there are rectangles which are narrow and
long, and others which are broad and short, while the
squares are equal on all sides and can be only big and
little. These things are most easily shown with the in-
sets, for, though we turn the square about, it still enters
its frame, while the rectangle, if placed across the open-
ing, will not enter. The child is much interested in this
exercise, for which we arrange in the frame a square and
a series of rectangles, having the longest side equal to the
side of the square, the other side gradually decreasing
in the five pieces.

In the same way we proceed to show the difference be-
tween the oval, the ellipse, and the circle. The circle
enters no matter how it is placed, or turned about; the
ellipse does not enter when placed transversely, but if
placed lengthwise will enter even if turned upside down.
The oval, however, not only cannot enter the frame if
placed transversely, but not even when turned upside
down; it must be placed with the large curve toward the
large part of the opening, and with the narrow curve to-
ward the narrow portion of the opening.

The circles, big and little, enter their frames no matter
how they are turned about. I do not reveal the difference
between the oval and the ellipse until a very late stage
of the child's education, and then not to all children, but
only to those who show a special interest in the forms by

236 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

choosing the game often, or by asking about the differ-
ences. I prefer that such differences should be recognised
later by the child, spontaneously, perhaps in the elemen-
tary school.

It seems to many persons that in teaching these forms
we are teaching geometry, and that this is premature in
schools for such young children. Others feel that, if we
wish to present geometric forms, we should use the solids,
as being more concrete.

I feel that I should say a word here to combat such
prejudices. To observe a geometric form is not to an-
alyse it, and in the analysis geometry begins. When, for
example, we speak to the child of sides and angles and
explain these to him, even though with objective methods,
as Froebel advocates (for example, the square has four
sides and can be constructed with four sticks of equal
length), then indeed we do enter the field of geometry,
and I believe that little children are too immature for
these steps. But the observation of the form cannot be
too advanced for a child at this age. The plane of the
table at which the child sits while eating his supper is
probably a rectangle; the plate which contains his food
is a circle, and we certainly do not consider that the child
is too immature to be allowed to look at the table and the
plate.

The insets which we present simply call the attention
to a given form. As to the name, it is analogous to other
names by which the child learns to call things. Why
should we consider it premature to teach the child the
words circle, square, oval, when in his home he repeat-
edly hears the word round used in connection with plates,
etc. ? He will hear his parents speak of the square table,
the oval table, etc., and these words in common use will

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 237

remain for a long time confused in his mind and in his
speech, if we do not interpose such help as that we give in
the teaching of forms.

We should reflect upon the fact that many times a child,
left to himself, makes an undue effort to comprehend the
language of the adults and the meaning of the things about
him. Opportune and rational instruction prevents such
an effort, and therefore does not weary, but relieves, the
child and satisfies his desire for knowledge. Indeed, he
shows his contentment by various expressions of pleas-
ure. At the same time, his attention is called to the
word which, if he is allowed to pronounce badly, develops
in him an imperfect use of the language.

This often arises from an effort on his part to imitate
the careless speech of persons about him, while the
teacher, by pronouncing clearly the word referring to the
object which arouses the child's curiosity, prevents such
effort and such imperfections.

Here, also, we face a widespread prejudice; namely,
the belief that the child left to himself gives absolute
repose to his mind. If this were so he would remain a
stranger to the world, and, instead, we see him, little by
little, spontaneously conquer various ideas and words.
He is a traveller through life, who observes the new things
among which he journeys, and who tries to understand the
unknown tongue spoken by those about him. Indeed, he
makes a great and voluntary effort to understand and to
imitate. The instruction given to little children should
be so directed as to lessen this expenditure of poorly di-
rected effort, converting it instead into the enjoyment of
conquest made easy and infinitely broadened. We are
the guides of these travellers just entering the great world
of human thought. We should see to it that we are in-

238 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

telligent and cultured guides, not losing ourselves in vain
discourse, but illustrating briefly and concisely the work
of art in which the traveller shows himself interested,
and we should then respectfully allow him to observe it
as long as he wishes to. It is our privilege to lead him
to observe the most important and the most beautiful
things of life in such a way that he does not lose energy
and time in useless things, but shall find pleasure and
satisfaction throughout his pilgrimage.

I have already referred to the prejudice that it is more
suitable to present the geometric forms to the child in the
solid rather than in the plane, giving him, for example,
the cube, the sphere, the prism. Let us put aside the
physiological side of the question showing that the visual
recognition of the solid figure is more complex than that
of the plane, and let us view the question only from the
more purely pedagogical standpoint of practical life.

The greater number of objects which we look upon
every day present more nearly the aspect of our plane
geometric insets. In fact, doors, window-frames, framed
pictures, the wooden or marble top of a table, are indeed
solid objects, but with one of the dimensions greatly re-
duced, and with the two dimensions determining the form
of the plane surface made most evident.

When the plane form prevails, we say that the window
is rectangular, the picture frame oval, this table square,
etc. Solids having a determined form prevailing in the
plane surface are almost the only ones which come to our
notice. And such solids are clearly represented by our
plane geometric insets.

The child will very often recognise in his environment
forms which he has learned in this way, but he will rarely
recognise the solid geometric forms.

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 239

That the table leg is a prism, or a truncated cone, or
an elongated cylinder, will come to his knowledge long
after he has observed that the top of the table upon which
he places things is rectangular. We do not, therefore,
speak of the fact of recognising that a house is a prism or
a cube. Indeed, the pure solid geometric forms never
exist in the ordinary objects about us; these present, in-
stead, a combination of forms. So, putting aside the
difficulty of taking in at a glance the complex form of a
house, the child recognises in it, not an identity of form,
but an analogy.

He will, however, see the plane geometric forms per-
fectly represented in windows and doors, and in the faces
of many solid objects in use at home. Thus the knowl-
edge of the forms given him in the plane geometric in-
sets will be for him a species of magic key, opening the
external world, and making him feel that he knows its
secrets.

I was walking one day upon the Pincian Hill with a
boy from the elementary school. He had studied geo-
metric design and understood the analysis of plane
geometric figures. As we reached the highest terrace
from which we could see the Piazza del Popolo with the
city stretching away behind it, I stretched out my hand
saying, " Look, all the works of man are a great mass
of geometric figures ; " and, indeed, rectangles, ovals, tri-
angles, and semicircles, perforated, or ornamented, in a
hundred different ways the grey rectangular fagades of
the various buildings. Such uniformity in such an ex-
panse of buildings seemed to prove the limitation of
human intelligence, while in an adjoining garden plot
the shrubs and flowers spoke eloquently of the infinite
variety of forms in nature.

240 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

The boy had never made these observations; he had
studied the angles, the sides and the construction of out-
lined geometric figures, but without thinking beyond
this, and feeling only annoyance at this arid work. At
first he laughed at the idea of man's massing geometric
figures together, then he became interested, looked long
at the buildings before him, and an expression of lively
and thoughtful interest came into his face. To the right
of the Ponte Margherita was a factory building in the
process of construction, and its steel framework deline-
ated a series of rectangles. " What tedious work ! " said
the boy, alluding to the workmen. And, then, as we
drew near the garden, and stood for a moment in silence
admiring the grass and the flowers which sprang so freely
from the earth, " It is beautiful ! " he said. But that
word " beautiful " referred to the inner awakening of
his own soul.

This experience made me think that in the observation
of the plane geometric forms, and in that of the plants
which they saw growing in their own little gardens, there
existed for the children precious sources of spiritual as
well as intellectual education. For this reason, I have
wished to make my work broad, leading the child, not
only to observe the forms about him, but to distinguish
the work of man from that of nature, and to appreciate
the fruits of human labour.

(a) Free Design. I give the child a sheet of white paper
and a pencil, telling him that he may draw whatever he
wishes to. Such drawings have long been of interest to
experimental psychologists. Their importance lies in the
fact that they reveal the capacity of the child for observ-
ing, and also show his individual tendencies. Generally,
the first drawings are unformed and confused, and the

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 241

teacher should ask the child what he wished to draw, and
should write it underneath the design that it may be a
record. Little by little, the drawings become more intel-
ligible, and verily reveal the progress which the child
makes in the observation of the forms about him. Often
the most minute details of an object have been observed
and recorded in the crude sketch. And, since the child
draws what he wishes, he reveals to us which are the
objects that most strongly attract his attention.

(b) Design Consisting of the Filling in of Outlined
Figures. These designs are most important as they con-
stitute " the preparation for writing." They do for the
colour sense what free desian does for the sense of form.

i i/ /

In other words, they reveal the capacity of the child in
the matter of observation of colours, as the free design
showed us the extent to which he was an observer of form
in the objects surrounding him. I shall speak more
fully of this work in the chapter on writing. The ex-
ercises consist in filling in with coloured pencil, certain
outlines drawn in black. These outlines present the
simple geometric figures and various objects with which
the child is familiar in the schoolroom, the home, and
the garden. The child must select his colour, and in do-
ing so he shows us whether he has observed the colours
of the things surrounding him.

Free Plastic Work

These exercises are analogous to those in free design
and in the filling in of figures with coloured pencils.
Here the child makes whatever he wishes with clay; that
is, he models those objects which he remembers most dis-
tinctly and which have impressed him most deeply. We
give the child a wooden tray containing a piece of clay,

242 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

and then we await his work. We possess some very re-
markable pieces of clay work done by our little ones.
Some of them reproduce, with surprising minuteness of
detail, objects which they have seen. And what is most
surprising, these models often record not only the form,
but even the dimensions of the objects which the child
handled in school.

Many little ones model the objects which they have
seen at home, especially kitchen furniture, water-jugs,
pots, and pans. Sometimes, we are shown a simple
cradle containing a baby brother or sister. At first it is
necessary to place written descriptions upon these ob-
jects, as it is necessary to do with the free design. Later
on, however, the models are easily recognisable, and the
children learn to reproduce the geometric solids. These
clay models are undoubtedly very valuable material for
the teacher, and make clear many individual differences,
thus helping her to understand her children more fully.
In our method they are also valuable as psychological
manifestations of development according to age. Such
designs are precious guides also for the teacher in the
matter of her intervention in the child's education. The
children who, in this work reveal themselves as observers,
will probably become spontaneous observers of all the
world about them, and may be led toward such a goal by
the indirect help of exercises tending to fix and to make
more exact the various sensations and ideas.

These children will also be those who arrive most
quickly at the act of spontaneous writing. Those whose
clay work remains unformed and indefinite will probably
need the direct revelation of the directress, who will need
to call their attention in some material manner to the ob-
jects around them.

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 243

Geometric Analysis of Figures; Sides, Angles,
Centre, Base

The geometric analysis of figures is not adapted to very
young children. I have tried a means for the intro-
duction of such analysis, limiting this work to the rect-
angle and making use of a game which includes the analy-
sis without fixing the attention of the child upon it. This
game presents the concept most clearly.

The rectangle of which I make use is the plane of one
of the children's tables, and the game consists in laying
the table for a meal. I have in each of the " Children's
Houses " a collection of toy table-furnishings, such as
may be found in any toy-store. Among these are dinner-
plates, soup-plates, soup-tureen, saltcellars, glasses, de-
canters, little knives, forks, spoons, etc. I have them lay
the table for six, putting two places on each of the longer
sides, and one place on each of the shorter sides. One
of the children takes the objects and places them as I in-
dicate. I tell him to place the soup tureen in the centre
of the table ; this napkin in a corner. " Place this plate
in the centre of the short side/'

Then I have the child look at the table, and I say,
" Something is lacking in this corner. We want another
glass on this side. Now let us see if we have everything
properly placed on the two longer sides. Is everything
ready on the two shorter sides? Is there anything lack-
ing in the four corners ? "

I do not believe that we may proceed to any more com-
plex analysis than this before the age of six years, for I
believe that the child should one day take up one of the
plane insets and spontaneously begin to count the sides
and the angles. Certainly, if we taught them such ideas

244 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

they would be able to learn them, but it would be a mere
learning of formulas, and not applied experience.

Exercises in the Chromatic Sense

I have already indicated what colour exercises we fol-
low. Here I wish to indicate more definitely the suc-
cession of these exercises and to describe them more fully.

Designs and Pictures. iWe have prepared a number
of outline drawings which the children are to fill in with
coloured pencil, and, later on, with a brush, preparing
for themselves the water-colour tints which they will use.
The first designs are of flowers, butterflies, trees and an-
imals, and we then pass to simple landscapes containing
grass, sky, houses, and human figures.

These designs help us in our study of the natural de-
velopment of the child as an observer of his surroundings ;
that is, in regard to colour. The children select the col-
ours and are left entirely free in their work. If, for
example, they colour a chicken red, or a cow green, this
shows that they have not yet become observers. But I
have already spoken of this in the general discussion of
the method. These designs also reveal the effect of the
education of the chromatic sense. As the child selects
delicate and harmonious tints, or strong and contrasting
ones, we can judge of the progress he has made in the re-
finement of his colour sense.

The fact that the child must remember the colour of
the objects represented in the design encourages him to
observe those things which are about him. And then,
too, he wishes to be able to fill in more difficult designs.
Only those children who know how to keep the colour
within the outline and to reproduce the right colours may
proceed to the more ambitious work. These designs are

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION 245

very easy, and often very effective, sometimes displaying
real artistic work. The directress of the school in Mex-
ico, who studied for a long time with me, sent me two
designs; one representing a cliff in which the stones were
coloured most harmoniously in light violet and shades of
brown, trees in two shades of green, and the sky a soft
blue. The other represented a horse with a chestnut coat
and black mane and tail.

CHAPTER XVI

METHODS FOE THE TEACHING OF READING AND WRITING

Spontaneous Development of Graphic Language. While
I was directress of the Orthophrenic School at Rome, I
had already begun to experiment with various didactic
means for the teaching of reading and writing. These
experiments were practically original with me.

Itard and Seguin do not present any rational method
through which writing may be learned. In the pages
above quoted, it may be seen how Itard proceeded in the
teaching of the alphabet and I give here what Seguin
says concerning the teaching of writing.

" To have a child pass from design, to writing, which
is its most immediate application, the teacher need only
call D, a portion of a circle, resting its extremities upon
a vertical; A, two obliques reunited at the summit and
cut by a horizontal, etc., etc.

" We no longer need worry ourselves as to how the
child shall learn to write: he designs, then writes. It
need not be said that we should have the child draw the
letters according to the laws of contrast and analogy.
For instance, O beside I; B with P; T opposite L, etc."

According to Seguin, then, we do not need to teach
writing. The child who draws, will write. But writ-
ing, for this author, means printed capitals! Nor
does he, in any other place, explain whether his pupil shall
write in any other way. He instead, gives much space

246

TEACHING HEADING AND WKITING 247

to the description of the design which prepares /or, and
which includes writing. This method of design is full of
difficulties and was only established by the combined at-
tempts of Itard and Seguin.

" Chapter XL: DESIGN. In design the first idea to
be acquired is that of the plane destined to receive the
design. The second is that of the trace or delineation.
Within these two concepts lies all design, all linear
creation.

" These two concepts are correlative, their relation
generates the idea, or the capacity to produce the lines in
this sense; that lines may only be called such when they
follow a methodical and determined direction: the trace
without direction is not a line ; produced by chance, it has
no name.

" The rational sign, on the contrary, has a name be-
cause it has a direction and since all writing or design
is nothing other than a composite of the diverse directions
followed by a line, we must, before approaching what is
commonly called writing, insist upon these notions of
plane and line. The ordinary child acquires these by
instinct, but an insistence upon them is necessary in order
to render the idiot careful and sensitive in their applica-
tion. Through methodical design he will come into ra-
tional contact with all parts of the plane and will, guided
by imitation, produce lines at first simple, but growing
more complicated.

" The pupil may be taught : First, to trace the di-
verse species of lines. Second, to trace them in various
•directions and in different positions relative to the plane.
Third, to reunite these lines to form figures varying from
simple to complex. We must therefore, teach the pupil
to distinguish straight lines from curves, vertical from

248 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

horizontal, and from the various oblique lines; and must
finally make clear the principal points of conjunction of
two or more lines in forming a figure.

" This rational analysis of design, from which writ-
ing will spring, is so essential in all its parts, that a child
who, before being confided to my care, already wrote
many of the letters, has taken six days to learn to draw
a perpendicular or a horizontal line; he spent fifteen days
before imitating a curve and an oblique. Indeed the
greater number of my pupils, are for a long time in-
capable of even imitating the movements of my hand
upon the paper, before attempting to draw a line in a
determined direction. The most imitative, or the least
stupid ones, produce a sign diametrically opposite to that
which I show them and all of them confound the points
of conjunction of two lines no matter how evident this
is. It is true that the thorough knowledge I have given
them of lines and of configuration helps them to make the
connection which must be established between the plane
and the various marks with which they must cover the
surface, but in the study rendered necessary by the de-
ficiency of my pupils, the progression in the matter of
the vertical, the horizontal, the oblique, and tne curve
must be determined by the consideration of the difficulty
of comprehension and of execution which each offers to
a torpid intelligence and to a weak unsteady hand.

" I do not speak here of merely having them perform
a difficult thing, since I have them surmount a series of
difficulties and for this reason I ask myself if some of
these difficulties are not greater and some less, and if
they do not grow one from the other, like theorems.
Here are the ideas which have guided me in this re-
spect.

TEACHING READING AND WRITING 249

" The vertical is a line which the eye and the hand
follow directly, going up and down. The horizontal line
is not natural to the eye, nor to the hand, which lowers
itself and follows a curve (like the horizon from which it
has taken its name), starting from the centre and going
to the lateral extremity of the plane.

" The oblique line presupposes more complex compara-
tive ideas, and the curve demands such firmness and so
many differences in its relation to the plane that we
would only lose time in taking up the study of these
lines. The most simple line then, is the vertical, and
this is how I have given my pupils an idea of it.

" The first geometric formula is this : only straight
lines may be drawn from one given point to another.

" Starting from this axiom, which the hand alone can
demonstrate, I have fixed two points upon the blackboard
and have connected them by means of a vertical. My
pupils try to do the same between the dots they have upon
their paper, but with some the vertical descends to the
right of the point and with others, to the left, to say
nothing of those whose hand diverges in all directions.
To arrest these various deviations which are often far
more defects of the intelligence and of the vision, than
of the hand, I have thought it wise to restrict the field of
the plane, drawing two vertical lines to left and right
of the points which the child is to join by means of a
parallel line half way between the two enclosing lines.
If these two lines are not enough, I place two rulers ver-
tically upon the paper, which arrest the deviations of the
hand absolutely. These material barriers are not, how-
ever, useful for very long. We first suppress the rulers
and return to the two parallel lines, between which the
idiot learns to draw the third line. We then take away

250 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

one of the guiding lines, and leave, sometimes that on
the right, sometimes that on the left, finally taking away
this last line and at last, the dots, beginning by erasing
the one at the top which indicates the starting point of
the line and of the hand. The child thus learns to draw
a vertical without material control, without points of com-
parison.

" The same method, the same difficulty, the same
means of direction are used for the straight horizontal
lines. If, by chance, these lines begin well, we must
await until the child curves them, departing from the
centre and proceeding to the extremity as nature com-
mands liim, and because of the reason which I have ex-
plained. If the two dots do not suffice to sustain the
hand, we keep it from deviating by means of the parallel
lines or of the rulers.

" Finally, have him trace a horizontal line, and by
uniting with it a vertical ruler we form a right angle.
The child will begin to understand, in this way, what the
vertical and horizontal lines really are, and will see the
relation of these two ideas as he traces a figure.

" In the sequence of the development of lines, it would
seem that the study of the oblique should immediately fol-
low that of the vertical and the horizontal, but this is
not so ! The oblique which partakes of the vertical in its
inclination, and of the horizontal in its direction, and
which partakes of both in its nature (since it is a straight
line), presents perhaps, because of its relation to other
lines, an idea too complex to be appreciated without
preparation."

Thus Seguin goes on through many pages, to speak of
the oblique in all directions, which he has his pupils trace
between two parallels. He then tells of the four curves

TEACHING BEADING AND WHITING 251

which he has them draw to right and left of a vertical and
above and below a horizontal, and concludes : " So we
find the solution of the problems for which we sought —
the vertical line, the horizontal, the oblique, and the four
curves, whose union forms the circle, contain all possible
lines, all writing.

" Arrived at this point, Itard and I were for a long
time at a standstill. The lines being known, the next
step was to have the child trace regular figures, begin-
ning of course, with the simplest. According to the
general opinion, Itard had advised me to begin with the
square and I had followed this advice for three months,
without being able to make the child understand me."

After a long series of experiments, guided by his ideas
of the genesis of geometric figures, Seguin became aware
that the triangle is the figure most easily drawn.

" When three lines meet thus, they always form a tri-
angle, while four lines may meet in a hundred different
directions without remaining parallel and therefore with-
out presenting a perfect square.

" From these experiments and many others, I have
deduced the first principles of writing and of design for
the idiot; principles whose application is too simple for
me to discuss further."

Such was the proceeding used by my predecessors in
the teaching of writing to deficients. As for reading,
Itard proceeded thus: he drove nails into the wall and
hung upon them, geometric figures of wood, such as tri-
angles, squares, circles. He then drew the exact imprint
of these upon the wall, after which he took the figures
away and had the " boy of Aveyron " replace them upon
the proper nails, guided by the design. Erom this de-
sign Itard conceived the idea of the plane geometric

252 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

insets. He finally had large print letters made of wood
and proceeded in the same way as with the geometric
figures, that is, using the design upon the wall and ar-
ranging the nails in such a way that the child might place
the letters upon them and then take them off again.
Later, Seguin used the horizontal plane instead of the
wall, drawing the letters on the bottom of a box and hav-
ing the child superimpose solid letters. After twenty
years, Seguin had not changed his method of procedure.

A criticism of the method used by Itard and Seguin
for reading and writing seems to me superfluous. The
method has two fundamental errors which make it in-
ferior to the methods in use for normal children, namely :
writing in printed capitals, and the preparation for writ-
ing through a study of rational geometry, which we now
expect only from students in the secondary schools.

Seguin here confuses ideas in a most extraordinary
way. He has suddenly jumped from the psychological
observation of the child and from his relation to his en-
vironment, to the study of the origin of lines and their
relation to the plane.

He says that the child will readily design a vertical
line, but that the horizontal will soon become a curve, be-
cause " nature commands it " and this command of nature
is represented by the fact that man sees the horizon as a
curved line!

The example of Seguin serves to illustrate the necessity
of a special education which shall fit man for observation,
and shall direct logical thought.

The observation must be absolutely objective, in other
words, stripped of preconceptions. Seguin has in this
case the preconception that geometric design must pre-
pare for writing, and that hinders him from discovering

TEACHING READING AND WRITING 253

the truly natural proceeding necessary to such prepara-
tion. He has, besides, the preconception that the devia-
tion of a line, as well as the inexactness with which the
child traces it, are due to " the mind and the eye, not to
the hand," and so he wearies himself for weeks and
months in explaining the direction of lines and in guid-
ing the vision of the idiot.

It seems as if Seguin felt that a good method must
start from a superior point, geometry; the intelligence of
the child is only considered worthy of attention in its
relation to abstract things. And is not this a common
defect ?

Let us observe mediocre men; they pompously assume
erudition and disdain simple things. Let us study the
clear thought of those whom we consider men of genius.
Newton is seated tranquilly in the open air; an apple
falls from the tree, he observes it and asks, " Why ? "
Phenomena are never insignificant; the fruit which falls
and universal gravitation may rest side by side in the
mind of a genius.

If Newton had been a teacher of children he would
have led the child to look upon the worlds on a starry
night, but an erudite person might have felt it necessary
first to prepare the child to understand the sublime cal-
culus which is the key to astronomy — Galileo Galilei ob-
served the oscillation of a lamp swung on high, and dis-
covered the laws of the pendulum.

In the intellectual life simplicity consists in divesting
one's mind of every preconception, and this leads to the
discovery of new things, as, in the moral life, humility
and material poverty guide us toward high spiritual con-
quests.

If we study the history of discoveries, we will find that

254 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

they have come from real objective observation and from
logical thought. These are simple things, but rarely
found in one man.

Does it not seem strange, for instance, that after the
discovery by Laveran of the malarial parasite which in-
vades the red blood-corpuscles, we did not, in spite of the
fact that we know the blood system to be a system of
closed vessels, even so much as suspect the possibility
that a stinging insect might inoculate us with the para-
site ? Instead, the theory that the evil emanated from
low ground, that it was carried by the African winds,
or that it was due to dampness, was given credence. Yet
these were vague ideas, while the parasite was a definite
biological specimen.

When the discovery of the malarial mosquito came to
complete logically the discovery of Laveran, this seemed
marvellous, stupefying. Yet we know in biology that the
reproduction of molecular vegetable bodies is by scission
with alternate sporation, and that of molecular animals
is by scission with alternate conjunction. That is, after
a certain period in which the primitive cell has divided
and sub-divided into fresh cells, equal among themselves,
there comes the formation of two diverse cells, one male
and one female, which must unite to form a single cell
capable of recommencing the cycle of reproduction by
division. All this being known at the time of Laveran,
and the malarial parasite being known to be a protozoon,
it would have seemed logical to consider its segmentation
in the stroma of the red corpuscle as the phase of scission
and to await until the parasite gave place to the sexual
forms, which must necessarily come in the phase suc-
ceeding scission. Instead, the division was looked upon
as spore-formation, and neither Laveran, nor the numer-

TEACHING READING AND WRITING 255

ous -scientists who followed the research, knew how to
give an explanation of the appearance of the sexual
forms. Laveran expressed an idea, which was immedi-
ately received, that these two forms were degenerate forms
of the malarial parasite, and therefore incapable of pro-
ducing the changes determining the disease. Indeed, the
malaria was apparently cured at the appearance of the two
sexual forms of the parasite, the conjunction of the
two cells being impossible in the human blood. The the-
ory — then recent — of Morel upon human degeneration
accompanied by deformity and weakness, inspired Lav-
eran in his interpretation, and everybody found the idea
of the illustrious pathologist a fortunate one, because it
was inspired by the great concepts of the Morellian the-
ory.

Had anyone, instead, limited himself to reasoning
thus: the original form of the malarial insect is a proto-
zoon; it reproduces itself by scission, under our eyes;
when the scission is finished, we see two diverse cells,
one a half-moon, the other threadlike. These are the
feminine and masculine cells which must, by conjunction,
alternate the scission, — such a reasoner would have
opened the way to the discovery. But so simple a process
of reasoning did not come. We might almost ask our-
selves how great would be the world's progress if a special
form of education prepared men for pure observation and
logical thought.

A great deal of time and intellectual -force are lost in
the world, because the false seems great and the truth
so small and insignificant.

I say all this to defend the necessity, which I feel we
face, of preparing the coming generations by means of
more rational methods. It is from these generations that

256 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

the world awaits its progress. We have already learned
to make use of our surroundings^ but I believe that we
have arrived at a time when the necessity presents itself
for utilising human force, through a scientific education.

To return to Seguin's method of writing, it illustrates
another truth, and that is the tortuous path we follow in
our teaching. This, too, is allied to an instinct for com-
plicating things, analogous to that which makes us so
prone to appreciate complicated things. We have Se-
guin teaching geometry in order to teach a child to write ;
and making the child's mind exert itself to follow geo-
metrical abstractions only to come down to the simple
effort of drawing a printed D. After all, must the child
not have to make another effort in order to forget the
print, and learn the script?

And even we in these days still believe that in order
to learn to write the child must first make vertical strokes.
This conviction is very general. Yet it does not seem
natural that to write the letters of the alphabet, which are
all rounded, it should be necessary to begin with straight
lines and acute angles.

In all good faith, we wonder that it should be difficult
to do away with the angularity and stiffness with which
the beginner traces the beautiful curve of the 0.* Yet,
through what effort on our part, and on his, was he forced
to fill pages and pages with rigid lines and acute angles!
To whom is due this time-honoured idea that the first
sign to be traced must be a straight line? And why do
we so avoid preparing for curves as well as angles ?

Let us, for a moment, divest ourselves of such precon-
ceptions and proceed in a more simple way. We may be

* It will, of course, be understood that this is a criticism of the
system in use in Italian schools. A. E. G.

TEACHING BEADING AND WKITING 257

able to relieve future generations of all effort in the mat-
ter of learning to write.

Is it necessary to begin writing with the making of
vertical strokes ? A moment of clear and logical thinking
is enough to enable us to answer, no. The child makes
too painful an effort in following such an exercise. The
first steps should be the easiest, and the up and down
stroke, is, on the contrary, one of the most difficult of all
the pen movements. Only a professional penman could
fill a whole page and preserve the regularity of such
strokes, but a person who writes only moderately well
would be able to complete a page of presentable writing.
Indeed, the straight line is unique, expressing the short-
est distance between two points, while any deviation from
that direction signifies a line which is not straight.
These infinite deviations are therefore easier than that
one trace which is perfection.

If we should give to a number of adults the order to
draw a straight line upon the blackboard, each person
would draw a long line proceeding in a different direction,
some beginning from one side, some from another, and
almost all would succeed in making the line straight.
Should we then ask that the line be drawn in a particular
direction, starting from a determined point, the ability
shown at first would greatly diminish, and we would see
many more irregularities, or errors. Almost all the lines
would be long-— for the individual must needs gather
impetus in order to succeed in making his line straight.

Should we ask that the lines be made short, and in-
cluded within precise limits, the errors would increase,
for we would thus impede the impetus which helps to
conserve the definite direction. In the methods ordi-
narily used in teaching writing, we add, to such limita-

258 THE MONTESSOBI METHOD

tions, the further restriction that the instrument of
writing must be held in a certain ' way, not as instinct
prompts each individual.

Thus we approach in the most conscious and restricted
way the first act of writing, which should be voluntary.
In this first writing we still demand that the single
strokes be kept parallel, making the child's task a diffi-
cult and barren one, since it has no purpose for the child,
who does not understand the meaning of all this detail.

I had noticed in the note-books of the deficient chil-
dren in France (and Voisin also mentions this phe-
nomenon) that the pages of vertical strokes, although they
began as such, ended in lines of C's. This goes to show
that the deficient child, whose mind is less resistant than
that of the normal child, exhausts, little by little, the
initial effort of imitation, and the natural movement
gradually comes to take the place of that which was forced
or stimulated. So the straight lines are transformed into
curves, more and more like the letter C. Such a phe-
nomenon does not appear in the copy-books of normal
children, for they resist, through effort, until the end of
the page is reached, and, thus, as often happens, conceal
the didactic error.

But let us observe the spontaneous drawings of normal
children. When, for example, picking up a fallen twig,
they trace figures in the sandy garden path, we never see
short straight lines, but long and variously interlaced
curves.

Seguin saw the same phenomenon when the horizontal
lines he made his pupils draw became curves so quickly
instead. And he attributed the phenomenon to the imita-
tion of the horizon line !

That vertical strokes should prepare for alphabetical

TEACHING BEADING AND WRITING 259

writing, seems incredibly illogical. The alphabet is
made up of curves, therefore we must prepare for it by
learning to make straight lines.

" But," says someone, " in many letters of the alpha-
bet, the straight line does exist." True, but there is no
reason why as a beginning of writing, we should select one
of the details of a complete form. We may analyse
the alphabetical signs in this way, discovering straight
lines and curves, as by analysing discourse, we find gram-
matical rules. But we all speak independently of such
rules, why then should we not write independently of such
analysis, and without the separate execution of the parts
constituting the letter?

It would be sad indeed if we could speak only after
we had studied grammar! It would be much the same
as demanding that before we looked at the stars in the
firmament, we must study infinitesimal calculus; it is
much the same thing to feel that before teaching an idiot
to write, we must make him understand the abstract deri-
vation of lines and the problems of geometry !

No less are we to be pitied if, in order to write, we
must follow analytically the parts constituting the alpha-
betical signs. In fact the effort which we believe to be
a necessary accompaniment to learning to write is a purely
artificial effort, allied, not to writing, but to the methods
by which it is taught.

Let us for a moment cast aside every dogma in this
connection. Let us take no note of culture, or custom.
We are not, here, interested in knowing how humanity
began to write, nor what may have been the origin of
writing itself. Let us put away the conviction, that long
usage has given us, of the necessity of beginning writing
by making vertical strokes; and let us try to be as clear

260 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

and unprejudiced in spirit as the truth which we are
seeking.

" Let us observe an individual who is writing, and let
us seek to analyse the acts he performs in writing/' that is.
the mechanical operations which enter into the execution
of writing. This would be undertaking the philosophical
study of writing, and it goes without saying that we
should examine the individual who writes, not the writ-
ing; the subject, not the object. Many have begun with
the object, examining the writing, and in this way many
methods have been constructed.

But a method starting from the individual would be
decidedly original — very different from other methods
which preceded it. It would indeed signify a new era in
writing, based upon anthropology.

In fact, when I undertook my experiments with nor-
mal children, if I had thought of giving a name to this
new method of writing, I should have called it without
knowing what the results would be, the anthropological
method. Certainly, my studies in anthropology inspired
the method, but experience has given me, as a surprise,
another title which seems to me the natural one, " the
method of spontaneous writing."

While teaching deficient children I happened to ob-
serve the following fact: An idiot girl of eleven years,
who was possessed of normal strength and motor power
in her hands, could not learn to sew, or even to take the
first step, darning, which consists in passing the needle
first over, then under the woof, now taking up, now leav-
ing, a number of threads.

I set the child to weaving with the Eroebel mats, in
which a strip of paper is threaded transversely in and out
among vertical strips of paper held fixed at top and bot-

TEACHING HEADING AND WKITING 261

torn. I thus came to think of the analogy between the
two exercises, and became much interested in my observa-
tion of the girl. When she had become skilled in the
Froebel weaving, I led her back again to the sewing, and
saw with pleasure that she was now able to follow the
darning. From that time on, our sewing classes began
with a regular course in the Froebel weaving.

I saw that the necessary movements of the hand in
sewing had been prepared without having the child sew,
and that we should really find the way to teach the child
how, before making him execute a task. I saw espe-
cially that preparatory movements could be carried on,
and reduced to a mechanism, by means of repeated ex-
ercises not in the work itself but in that which prepares
for it. Pupils could then come to the real work, able to
perform it without ever having directly set their hands
to it before.

I thought that I might in this way prepare for writing,
and the idea interested me tremendously. I marvelled
at its simplicity, and was annoyed that / had not thought
before of the method which was suggested to me by my
observation of the girl who could not sew.

In fact, seeing that I had already taught the children
to touch the contours of the plane geometric insets, I had
now only to teach them to touch with their fingers the
forms of the letters of the alphabet.

I had a beautiful alphabet manufactured, the letters
being in flowing script, the low letters 8 centimetres high,
and the taller ones in proportion. These letters were in
wood, % centimetre in thickness, and were painted, the
consonants in blue enamel, the vowels in red. The un-
der side of these letter-forms, instead of being painted,
were covered with bronze that they might be more dur-

262 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

able. We had only one copy of this wooden alphabet;
but there were a number of cards upon which the letters
were painted in the same colours and dimensions as the
wooden ones. These painted letters were arranged upon
the cards in groups, according to contrast, or analogy of
form.

Corresponding to each letter of the alphabet, we had a
picture representing some object the name of which be-
gan with the letter. Above this, the letter was painted
in large script, and near it, the same letter, much smaller
and in its printed form. These pictures served to fix
the memory of the sound of the letter, and the small
printed letter united to the one in script, was to form the
passage to the reading of books. These pictures do not, in-
deed, represent a new idea, but they completed an ar-
rangement which did not exist before. Such an alphabet
was undoubtedly most expensive and when made by hand
the cost was fifty dollars.

The interesting part of my experiment was, that after
I had shown the children how to place the movable wooden
letters upon those painted in groups upon the cards, I
had them touch them repeatedly in the fashion of flowing
writing.

I multiplied these exercises in various ways, and the
children thus learned to make the movements necessary
to reproduce the form of the graphic signs without
writing.

I was struck by an idea which had never before entered
my mind — that in writing we make two diverse forms
of movement, for, besides the movement by which the
form is reproduced, there is also that of manipulating the
instrument of writing. And, indeed, when the deficient
children had become expert in touching all the letters

TEACHING BEADING AND WKITING 263

according to form, they did not yet know how to hold a
pencil. To hold and to manipulate a little stick securely,
corresponds to the acquisition of a special muscular
mechanism which is independent of the writing move-
ment; it must in fact go along with the motions necessary
to produce all of the various letter forms. It is, then, a
distinct mechanism, which must exist together with the
motor memory of the single graphic signs. When I pro-
voked in the deficients the movements characteristic of
writing by having them touch the letters with their fin-
gers, I exercised mechanically the psycho-motor paths, and
fixed the muscular memory of each letter. There re-
mained the preparation of the muscular mechanism nec-
essary in holding and managing the instrument of writ-
ing, and this I provoked by adding two periods to the one
already described. In the second period, the child
touched the letter, not only with the index finger of his
right hand, but with two, the index and the middle finger.
In the third period, he touched the letters with a little
wooden stick, held as a pen in writing. In substance I
was making him repeat the same movements, now with,
and now without, holding the instrument.

I have said that the child was to follow the visual
image of the outlined letter. It is true that his finger
had already been trained through touching the contours
of the geometric figures, but this was not always a suffi-
cient preparation. Indeed, even we grown people, when
we trace a design through glass or tissue paper, cannot
follow perfectly the line which we see and along which
we should draw our pencil. The design should furnish
some sort of control, some mechanical guide, for the pen-
cil, in order to follow with exactness the trace, sensible in
reality only to the eye.

264 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

The deficients, therefore, did not always follow the de-
sign exactly with either the finger or the stick. The
didactic material did not offer any control in the work,
or rather it offered only the uncertain control of the
child's glance, which could, to be sure, see if the
finger continued upon the sign, or not. I now thought
that in order to have the pupil follow the move-
ments more exactly, and to guide the execution more di-
rectly, I should need to prepare letter forms so indented,
as to represent a furrow within which the wooden stick
might run. I made the designs for this material, but the
work being too expensive I was not able to carry out my
plan.

After having experimented largely with this method,
I spoke of it very fully to the teachers in my classes in
didactic methods at the State Orthophrenic School.
These lectures were printed, and I give below the words
which, though they were placed in the hands of more than
200 elementary teachers, did not draw from them a single
helpful idea. Professor Ferreri * in an article speaks
with amazement of this fact.f

" At this point we present the cards bearing the vowels
painted in red. The child sees irregular figures painted
in red. We give him the vowels in wood, painted red,
and have him superimpose these upon the letters painted
on the card. We have him touch the wooden vowels in
the fashion of writing, and give him the name of each

* Gr. Ferreri — Per 1'insegnamento della scrittura ( Sistema della
Dott M. Montessori) Bollettino dell' Associazione Romana per la
cura medico — pedigogica del fanciulli anormali e deficient! poveri,
anno 1, n. 4, ottobre 1907. Roma Tipografia delle Terme Diocleziane.

f Riassunto delle lezion di didattica, della dott. Montessori anno
1900, Stab. lit. Romano, via Frattina 62, Disp. 6a, pag. 46: " Let-
tura e Scrittura simultanee."

TEACHING READING AND WRITING 265

letter. The vowels are arranged on the cards according
to analogy of form:

0 e a

1 u

" We then say to the child, for example, ' Find o. Put
it in its place.' Then, ' What letter is this ? ' We here
discover that many children make mistakes in the letters
if they only look at the letter.

" They could however tell the letter by touching it.
Most interesting observations may be made, revealing va-
rious individual types: visual, motor.

" We have the child touch the letters drawn upon the
cards, — using first the index finger only, then the index
with the middle finger, — then with a small wooden stick
held as a pen. The letter must be traced in the fashion
of writing.

" The consonants are painted in blue, and are arranged
upon the cards according to analogy of form. To these
cards are annexed a movable alphabet in blue wood, the
letters of which are to be placed upon the consonants as
they were upon the vowels. In addition to these mate-
rials there is another series of cards, where, besides the
consonant, are painted one or two figures the names of
which begin with that particular letter. Near the script
letter, is a smaller printed letter painted in the same col-
our.

" The teacher, naming the consonant according to the
phonetic method, indicates the letter, and then the card,
pronouncing the names of the objects painted there, and
emphasizing the first letter, as, for example, ' p-pear:
give me the consonant p — put it in its place, touch it,' etc.
In all this we study the linguistic defects of the child.

266 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

" Tracing the letter, in the fashion of writing, begins
the muscular education which prepares for writing.
One of our little girls taught by this method has repro-
duced all the letters with the pen, though she does not as
yet recognise them all. She has made them about eight
centimetres high, and with surprising regularity. This
child also does well in hand work. The child who looks,
recognises, and touches the letters in the manner of writ-
ing, prepares himself simultaneously for reading and
writing. :

" Touching the letters and looking at them at the same
time, fixes the image more quickly through the co-opera-
tion of the senses. Later, the two facts separate; looking
becomes reading; touching becomes writing. According
to the type of the individual, some learn to read first,
others to write."

I had thus, about the year 1899, initiated my method
for reading and writing upon the fundamental lines it
still follows. It was with great surprise that I noted the
facility with which a deficient child, to whom I one day
gave a piece of chalk, traced upon the blackboard, in a
firm hand, the letters of the entire alphabet, writing for
the first time.

This had arrived much more quickly than I had sup-
posed. As I have said, some of the children wrote the
letters with a pen and yet could not recognise one of them.
I have noticed, also, in normal children, that the muscular
sense is most easily developed in infancy, and this makes
writing exceedingly easy for children. It is not so
with reading, which requires a much longer course of
instruction, and which calls for a superior intellectual
development, since it treats of the interpretation of signs,
and of the modulation of accents of the voice, in order

TEACHING HEADING AND WRITING 267

that the word may be understood. And all this is a
purely mental task, while in writing, the child, under dic-
tation, materially translates sounds into signs, and moves,
a thing which is always easy and pleasant for him. Writ-
ing develops in the little child with facility and sponta-
neity, analogous to the development of spoken language
— which is a motor translation of audible sounds.
Heading, on the contrary, makes part of an abstract in-
tellectual culture, which is the interpretation of ideas
from graphic symbols, and is only acquired later on.

My first experiments with normal children were begun
in the first half of the month of November, 1907.

In the two " Children's Houses " in San Lorenzo, I had,
from the date of their respective inaugurations (January
6 in one and March 7 in the other), used only the games
of practical life, and of the education of the senses. I had
not presented exercises for writing, because, like every-
body else, I held the prejudice that it was necessary
to begin as late as possible the teaching of reading
and writing, and certainly to avoid it before the age of
six.

But the children seemed to demand some conclusion of
the exercises, which had already developed them intel-
lectually in a most surprising way. They knew how to
dress and undress, and to bathe, themselves; they knew
how to sweep the floors, dust the furniture, put the room
in order, to open and close boxes, to manage the keys in
the various locks; they could replace the objects in the
cupboards in perfect order, could care for the plants ; they
knew how to observe things, and how to see objects with
their hands. A number of them came to us and frankly
demanded to be taught to read and write. Even in the
face of our refusal several children came to school and

268 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

proudly showed us that they knew how to make an O on
the blackboard.

Finally, many of the mothers came to beg us as a favour
to teach the children to write, saying, " Here in the
' Children's Houses ' the children are awakened, and learn
so many things easily that if you only teach reading and
writing they will soon learn, and will then be spared the
great fatigue this always means in the elementary school."
This faith of the mothers, that their little ones would,
from us, be able to learn to read and write without fatigue,
made a great impression upon me. Thinking upon the
results I had obtained in the school for deficients, I de-
cided during the August vacation to make a trial upon
the reopening of the school in September. Upon second
thought I decided that it would be better to take up the
interrupted work in September, and not to approach read-
ing and writing until October, when the elementary
schools opened. This presented the added advantage of
permitting us to compare the progress of the children of
the first elementary with that made by ours, who would
have begun the same branch of instruction at the same
time.

In September, therefore, I began a search for someone
who could manufacture didactic materials, but found no
one willing to undertake it. I wished to have a splendid
alphabet made, like the one used with the deficients. Giv-
ing this up, I was willing to content myself with the
ordinary enamelled letters used upon shop windows, but
I could find them in script form nowhere. My disap-
pointments were many.

So passed the whole month of October. The children
in the first elementary had already filled pages of vertical
strokes, and mine were still waiting. I then decided to

TEACHING HEADING AND WRITING 269

cut out large paper letters, and to have one of my teachers
colour these roughly on one side with a blue tint. As for
the touching of the letters, I thought of cutting the letters
of the alphabet out of sandpaper, and of gluing them upon
smooth cards, thus making objects much like those used
in the primitive exercises for the tactile sense.

Only after I had made these simple things, did I be-
come aware of the superiority of this alphabet to that
magnificent one I had used for my deficients, and in the
pursuit of which I had wasted two months! If I had
been rich, I would have had that beautiful but barren
alphabet of the past ! We wish the old things because we
cannot understand the new, and we are always seeking
after that gorgeousness which belongs to things already on
the decline, without recognising in the humble simplicity
of new ideas the germ which shall develop in the future.

I finally understood that a paper alphabet could easily
be multiplied, and could be used by many children at one
time, not only for the recognition of letters, but for the
composition of words. I saw that in the sandpaper alpha-
bet I had found the looked-for guide for the fingers which
touched the letter. This was furnished in such a way that
no longer the sight alone, but the touch, lent itself directly
to teaching the movement of writing with exactness of
control.

In the afternoon after school, the two teachers and I,
with great enthusiasm, set about cutting out letters from
writing-paper, and others from sandpaper. The first, we
painted blue, the second, we mounted on cards, and, while
we worked, there unfolded before my mind a clear vision
of the method in all its completeness, so simple that it
made me smile to think I had not seen it before.

The story of our first attempts is very interesting. One

270 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

day one of the teachers was ill, and I sent as a substitute
a pupil of mine, Signorina Anna Fedeli, a 'professor of
pedagogy in a Normal school. When I went to see her
at the close of the day, she showed me two modifications
of the alphabet which she had made. One consisted in
placing behind each letter, a transverse strip of white
paper, so that the child might recognise the direction of
the letter, which he often turned about and upside down.
The other consisted in the making of a cardboard case
where each letter might be put away in its own compart-
ment, instead of being kept in a confused mass as at first.
I still keep this rude case made from an old pasteboard
box, which Signorina Fedeli had found in the court and
roughly sewed with white thread.

She showed it to me laughing, and excusing herself for
the miserable work, but I was most enthusiastic about it.
I saw at once that the letters in the case were a precious
aid to the teaching. Indeed, it offered to the eye of the
child the possibility of comparing all of the letters, and
of selecting those he needed. In this way the didactic
material described below had its origin.

I need only add that at Christmas time, less than a
month and a half later, while the children in the first
elementary were laboriously working to forget their weari-
some pothooks and to prepare for making the curves of
O and the other vowels, two of my little ones of four
years old, wrote, each one in the name of his companions,
a letter of good wishes and thanks to Signor Edoardo
Talamo. These were written upon note paper without
blot or erasure and the writing was adjudged equal to that
which is obtained in the third elementary grade.

CHAPTER XVII

DESCRIPTION OF THE METHOD AND DIDACTIC MATERIAL

USED

FIRST PERIOD: EXERCISE TENDING TO DEVELOP THE MUS-
CULAR MECHANISM NECESSARY IN HOLDING AND USING
THE INSTRUMENT IN WRITING

Design Preparatory to Writing. — Didactic Material.
Small wooden tables; metal insets, outline drawings, col-
oured pencils. I have among my materials two little
wooden tables, the tops of which form an inclined plane
sloping toward a narrow cornice, which prevents objects
placed upon the table from slipping off. The top of each
table is just large enough to hold four of the square
frames, into which the metal plane geometric insets are
fitted, and is so painted as to represent three of these
brown frames, each containing a square centre of the same
dark blue as the centres of the metal insets.

The metal insets are in dimension and form a reproduc-
tion of the series of plane geometric insets in wood already
described.

Exercises. Placed side by side upon the teacher's desk,
or upon one of the little tables belonging to the children,
these two little tables may have the appearance of being
one long table containing eight figures. The child may
select one or more figures, taking at the same time the
frame of the inset. The analogy between these metal
insets and the plane geometric insets of wood is complete.

271

272 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

But in this case, the child can freely use the pieces, where
before, he arranged them in the wooden frame. He first
takes the metal frame, places it upon a sheet of white
paper, and with a coloured pencil draws around the con-
tour of the empty centre. Then, he takes away the frame,
and upon the paper there remains a geometric figure.

This is the first time that the child has reproduced
through design, a geometric figure. Until now, he has
only placed the geometric insets above the figures deline-
ated on the three series of cards. He now places upon
the figure, which he himself has drawn, the metal inset,
just as he placed the wooden inset upon the cards. His
next act is to follow the contour of this inset with a pencil
of a different colour. Lifting the metal piece, he sees the
figure reproduced upon the paper, in two colours.

Here, for the first time is born the abstract concept of
the geometric figure, for, from two metal pieces so differ-
ent in form as the frame and the inset, there has resulted
the same design, which is a line expressing a determined
figure. This fact strikes the attention of the child. He
often marvels to find the same figure reproduced by means
of two pieces so different, and looks for a long time with
evident pleasure at the duplicate design — almost as if it
were actually produced by the objects which serve to guide
his hand.

Besides all this, the child learns to trace lines determin-
ing figures. There will come a day in which, with still
greater surprise and pleasure, he will trace graphic signs
determining words.

After this, he begins the work which directly prepares
for the formation of the muscular mechanism relative to
the holding and manipulation of the instrument of writ-
ing. With a coloured pencil of his own selection, held as

THE METHOD AND THE MATEKIAL 273

the pen is held in writing, he fills in the figure which he
has outlined. We teach him not to pass outside the con-
tour, and in doing so we attract his attention to this
contour, and thus fix the idea that a line may determine
a figure.

The exercise of filling in one figure alone, causes the
child to perform repeatedly the movement of manipula-
tion which would be necessary to fill ten copy-book pages
with vertical strokes. And yet, the child feels no weari-
ness, because, although he makes exactly the muscular
co-ordination which is necessary to the work, he does so
freely and in any way that he wishes, while his eyes are
fixed upon a large and brightly coloured figure. At first,
the children fill pages and pages of paper with these big
squares, triangles, ovals, trapezoids; colouring them red,
orange, green, blue, light blue, and pink.

Gradually they limit themselves to the use of the dark
blue and brown, both in drawing the figure and in filling
it in, thus reproducing the appearance of the metal piece
itself. Many of the children, quite of their own accord,
make a little orange-coloured circle in the centre of the
figure, in this way representing the little brass button by
which the metal piece is to be held. They take great
pleasure in feeling that they have reproduced exactly, like
true artists, the objects which they see before them on the
little shelf.

Observing the successive drawings of a child, there is
revealed to us a duplicate form of progression:

First. Little by little, the lines tend less and less to
go outside the enclosing line until, at last, they are per-
fectly contained within it, and both the centre and the
frame are filled in with close and uniform strokes.

Second. The strokes with which the child fills in the

THE MONTESSOBI METHOD

figures, from being at first short and confused, become
gradually longer, and more nearly parallel, until in many
cases the figures are filled in by means of perfectly regular
up and down strokes, extending from one side of the figure
to the other. In such a case, it is evident that the child
is master of the pencil. The muscular mechanism, neces-
sary to the management of the instrument of writing, is
established. We may, therefore, by examining such de-
signs, arrive at a clear idea of the maturity of the child
in the matter of holding the pencil or pen in hand. To
vary these exercises, we use the outline drawings already
described. Through these designs, the manipulation of
the pencil is perfected, for they oblige the child to make
lines of various lengths, and make him more and more
secure in his use of the pencil.

If we could count the lines made by a child in the filling
in of these figures, and could transform them into the
signs used in writing, they would fill many, many copy-
books ! Indeed, the security which our children attain is
likened to that of children in our ordinary third elemen-
tary grade. When for the first time they take a pen or a
pencil in hand, they know how to manage it almost as
well as a person who has written for a long time.

I do not believe that any means can be found which will
so successfully and, in so short a space of time, establish
this mastery. And with it all, the child is happy and
diverted. My old method for the deficients, that of fol-
lowing with a small stick the contours of raised letters,
was, when compared with this, barren and miserable !

Even when the children know how to write they con-
tinue these exercises, which furnish an unlimited progres-
sion, since the designs may be varied and complicated.
The children follow in each design essentially the same

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 2T5

movements, and acquire a varied collection of pictures
which grow more and more perfect, and of which they
are very proud. For I not only provoke, but perfect, the
writing through the exercises which we call preparatory.
The control of the pen is rendered more and more secure,
not by repeated exercises in the writing, but by means of
these filled-in designs. In this way, my children perfect
themselves in writing, without actually writing.

SECOND PERIOD: EXERCISES TENDING TO ESTABLISH THE
VISUAL-MUSCULAR IMAGE OF THE ALPHABETICAL SIGNS,
AND TO ESTABLISH THE MUSCULAR MEMORY OF THE
MOVEMENTS NECESSARY TO WRITING

Didactic Material. Cards upon which the single letters
of the alphabet are mounted in sandpaper; larger cards
containing groups of the same letters.

The cards upon which the sandpaper letters are
mounted are adapted in size and shape to each letter.
The vowels are in light-coloured sandpaper and are
mounted upon dark cards, the consonants and the groups
of letters are in black sandpaper mounted upon white
cards. The grouping is so arranged as to call attention
to contrasted, or analogous forms.

The letters are cut in clear script form, the shaded parts
being made broader. We have chosen to reproduce the
vertical script in use in the elementary schools.

Exercises. In teaching the letters of the alphabet, we
begin with the vowels and proceed to the consonants, pro-
nouncing the sound, not the name. In the case of the
consonants, we immediately unite the sound with one of
the vowel sounds, repeating the syllable according to the
usual phonetic method.

276 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

The teaching proceeds according to the three periods
already illustrated.

First. Association of the visual and muscular-tactile
sensation with the letter sound.

The directress presents to the child two of the cards
upon which vowels are mounted (or two of the consonants,
as the case may be). Let us suppose that we present the
letters i and o, saying, " This is i ! This is o ! " As soon
as we have given the sound of a letter, we have the child
trace it, taking care to show him how to trace it, and if
necessary guiding the index finger of his right hand over
the sandpaper letter in the sense of writing.

" Knowing how to trace " will consist in knowing the
direction in which a given graphic sign must be followed.

The child learns quickly, and his finger, already expert
in the tactile exercise, is led, by the slight roughness of the
fine sandpaper, over the exact track of the letter. He may
then repeat indefinitely the movements necessary to pro-
duce the letters of the alphabet, without the fear of the
mistakes of which a child writing with a pencil for the first
time is so conscious. If he deviates, the smoothness of
the card immediately warns him of his error.

The children, as soon as they have become at all expert
in this tracing of the letters, take great pleasure in repeat-
ing it with closed eyes, letting the sandpaper lead them in
following the form which they do not see. Thus the per-
ception will be established by the direct muscular-tactile
sensation of the letter. In other words, it is no longer
the visual image of the letter, but the tactile sensation,
which guides the hand of the child in these movements,
which thus become fixed in the muscular memory.

There develop, contemporaneously, three sensations
when the directress shows the letter to the child and has

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 27T

him trace it; the visual sensation, the tactile sensation,
and the muscular sensation. In this way the image of the
graphic sign is fixed in a much shorter space of time than
when it was, according to ordinary methods, acquired only
through the visual image. It will be found that the mus-
cular memory is in the young child the most tenacious
and, at the same time, the most ready. Indeed, he some-
times recognises the letters by touching them, when he can-
not do so by looking at them. These images are, besides
all this, contemporaneously associated with the alphabeti-
cal sound.

Second. Perception. The child should know how to
compare and to recognise the figures, when he hears the
sounds corresponding to them.

The directress asks the child, for example, " Give me
o ! — Give me i ! " If the child does not recognise the
letters by looking at them, she invites him to trace them,
but if he still does not recognise them, the lesson is ended,
and may be resumed another day. I have already spoken
of the necessity of not revealing the error, and of not in-
sisting in the teaching when the child does not respond
readily.

Third. Language. Allowing the letters to lie for
some instants upon the table, the directress asks the child,
" What is this? " and he should respond, o, i.

In teaching the consonants, the directress pronounces
only the sound, and as soon as she has done so unites with
it a vowel, pronouncing the syllable thus formed and alter-
nating this little exercise by the use of different vowels.
She must always be careful to emphasize the sound of
the consonant, repeating it by itself, as, for example, m, m,
m} ma, me, mi, m, m. When the child repeats the sound
he isolates it, and then accompanies it with the vowel.

278 THE MOOTESSOKI METHOD

It is not necessary to teach all the vowels before passing
to the consonants, and as soon as the child knows one con-
sonant he may begin to compose words. Questions of this
sort, however, are left to the judgment of the educator.

I do not find it practical to follow a special rule in the
teaching of the consonants. Often the curiosity of the
child concerning a letter leads us to teach that desired
consonant; a name pronounced may awaken in him a
desire to know what consonants are necessary to compose
it, and this will, or willingness, of the pupil is a much
more efficacious means than any rule concerning the pro-
gression of the letters.

When the child pronounces the sounds of the conso-
nants, he experiences an evident pleasure. It is a great
novelty for him, this series of sounds, so varied and yet
so distinct, presenting such enigmatic signs as the letters
of the alphabet. There is mystery about all this, which
provokes most decided interest. One day I was on the
terrace while the children were having their free games;
I had with me a little boy of two years and a half left
with me, for a moment, by his mother. Scattered about
upon a number of chairs, were the alphabets which we use
in the school. These had become mixed, and I was putting
the letters back into their respective compartments. Hav-
ing finished my work, I placed the boxes upon two of the
little chairs near me. The little boy watched me.
Finally, he drew near to the box, and took one of the
letters in his hand. It chanced to be an f. At that mo-
ment the children, who were running in single file, passed
us, and, seeing the letter, called out in chorus the corre-
sponding sound and passed on. The child paid no atten-
tion to them, but put back the f and took up an r. The
children running by again, looked at him laughing, and

THE METHOD AND THE MATEEIAL 279

then began to cry out " r, r, r ! r, r, r ! " Little by little
the baby understood that, when he took a letter in hand,
the children, who were passing, cried out a sound. This
amused him so much that I wished to observe how long
he would persist in this game without becoming tired.
He kept it up for three-quarters of an hour! The chil-
dren had become interested in the child, and grouped
themselves about him, pronouncing the sounds in chorus,
and laughing at his pleased surprise. At last, after he
had several times held up f, and had received from his
public the same sound, he took the letter again, showing
it to me, and saying, " f, f , f ! " He had learned this
from out the great confusion of sounds which he had
heard : the long letter which had first arrested the attention
of the running children, had made a great impression upon
him.

It is not necessary to show how the separate pronuncia-
tion of the alphabetical sounds reveals the condition of the
child's speech. Defects, which are almost all related to
the incomplete development of the language itself, mani-
fest themselves, and the directress may take note of them
one by one. In this way she will be possessed of a record
of the child's progress, which will help her in her indi-
vidual teaching, and will reveal much concerning the de-
velopment of the language in this particular child.

In the matter of correcting linguistic defects, we will
find it helpful to follow the physiological rules relating to
the child's development, and to modify the difficulties in
the presentation of our lesson. When, however, the
child's speech is sufficiently developed, and when he pro-
nounces all the sounds, it does not matter which of the
letters we select in our lessons.

Many of the defects which have become permanent in

280 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

adults are due to functional errors in the development of
the language during the period of infancy. If, for the
attention which we pay to the correction of linguistic de-
fects in children in the upper grades, we would substitute
a direction of the development of the language while the
child is still young, our results would be much more prac-
tical and valuable. In fact, many of the defects in pro-
nunciation arise from the use of a dialect, and these it
is almost impossible to correct after the period of child-
hood. They may, however, be most easily removed
through the use of educational methods especially adapted
to the perfecting of the language in little children.

We do not speak here of actual linguistic defects related
to anatomical or physiological weaknesses, or to patho-
logical facts which alter the function of the nervous sys-
tem. I speak at present only of those irregularities which
are due to a repetition of incorrect sounds, or to the imi-
tation of imperfect pronunciation. Such defects may
show themselves in the pronunciation of any one of the
consonant sounds, and I can conceive of no more practical
means for a methodical correction of speech defects than
this exercise in pronunciation, which is a necessary part
in learning the graphic language through my method.
But such important questions deserve a chapter to them-
selves.

Turning directly to the method used in teaching writ-
ing, I may call attention to the fact that it is contained
in the two periods already described. Such exercises have
made it possible for the child to learn, and to fix, the
muscular mechanism necessary to the proper holding of
the pen, and to the making of the graphic signs. If he
has exercised himself for a sufficiently long time in these
exercises, he will be potentially ready to write all the

THE METHOD AND THE MATEKIAL 281

letters of the alphabet and all of the simple syllables, with-
out ever having taken chalk or pencil in his hand.

We have, in addition to this, begun the teaching of
reading at the same time that we have been teaching writ-
ing. When we present a letter to the child and enunciate
its sound, he fixes the image of this letter by means of
the visual sense, and also by means of the muscular-tac-
tile sense. He associates the sound with its relative
sign; that is, he relates the sound to the graphic sign.
But when he sees and recognises, he reads; and when he
traces, he writes. Thus his mind receives as one, two acts,
which, later on, as he develops, will separate, coming to
constitute the two diverse processes of reading and writ-
ing. By teaching these two acts contemporaneously, or,
better, by their fusion, we place the child before a new
form of language without determining which of the acts
constituting it should be most prevalent.

We do not trouble ourselves as to whether the child in
the development of this process, first learns to read or to
write, or if the one or the other will be the easier. We
must rid ourselves of all preconceptions, and must await
from experience the answer to these questions. We may
expect that individual differences will show themselves in
the prevalence of one or the other act in the development
of different children. This makes possible the most in-
teresting psychological study of the individual, and should
broaden the work of this method, which is based upon the
free expansion of individuality.

THIRD PERIOD : EXERCISES FOR THE COMPOSITION" OF
WORDS

Didactic Material. This consists chiefly of alphabets.
The letters of the alphabet used here are identical in form

282 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

and dimension with the sandpaper ones already described,
but these are cut out of cardboard and are not mounted.
In this way each letter represents an object which can be
easily handled by the child and placed wherever he wishes
it. There are several examples of 6ach letter, and I have
designed cases in which the alphabets may be kept. These
cases or boxes are very shallow, and are divided and sub-
divided into many compartments, in each one of which I
have placed a group of four copies of the same letter.
The compartments are not equal in size, but are measured
according to the dimensions of the letters themselves. At
the bottom of each compartment is glued a letter which
is not to be taken out. This letter is made of black card-
board and relieves the child of the fatigue of hunting
about for the right compartment when he is replacing the
letters in the case after he has used them. The vowels
are cut from blue cardboard, and the consonants from
red.

In addition to these alphabets we have a set of the capi-
tal letters mounted in sandpaper upon cardboard, and
another, in which they are cut from cardboard. The
numbers are treated in the same way.

Exercises, As soon as the child knows some of the
vowels and the consonants we place before him the big
box containing all the vowels and the consonants which he
knows. The directress pronounces very clearly a word;
for example, "mama," brings out the sound of the m
very distinctly, repeating the sounds a number of times.
Almost always the little one with an impulsive movement
seizes an m and places it upon the table. The directress
repeats " ma — ma." The child selects the a and places
it near the m. He then composes the other syllable very
easily. But the reading of the word which he has com-

(A) TRAINING THE SENSE OF TOUCH. Learning the difference between rough and
smooth by running fingers alternately over sandpaper and smooth cardboard ; distin-
guishing different shapes by fitting geometric insets into place ; distinguishing textures.

(B) LEARNING TO WRITE AND READ BY TOUCH. The child at the left is tracing
sandpaper letters and learning to know them by touch. The boy and girl are making

words out of cardboard letters.

(Ai CHILDREN TOUCHING LETTERS.
and delicacy of touch by very thorough
not had so much training

The child on the left has acquired lightness
;horough preparatory exercises. The one on the right has
(B) MAKING WORDS WITH CARDBOARD SCRIPT.

THE METHOD AND THE MATEEIAL 283

posed is not so easy. Indeed, he generally succeeds in
reading it only after a certain effort. In this case I help
the child, urging him to read, and reading the word with
him once or twice, always pronouncing very distinctly,
mama, mama. But once he has understood the mechan-
ism of the game, the child goes forward by himself, and
becomes intensely interested. We may pronounce any
word, taking care only that the child understands sepa-
rately the letters of which it is composed. He composes
the new word, placing, one after the other, the signs corre-
sponding to the sounds.

It is most interesting indeed to watch the child at this
work. Intensely attentive, he sits watching the box, mov-
ing his lips almost imperceptibly, and taking one by one
the necessary letters, rarely committing an error in spell-
ing. The movement of the lips reveals the fact that he
repeats to himself an infinite number of times the words
whose sounds he is translating into signs. Although the
child is able to compose any word which is clearly pro-
nounced, we generally dictate to him only those words
which are well-known, since we wish his composition to
result in an idea. When these familiar words are used,
he spontaneously rereads many times the word he has
composed, repeating its sounds in a thoughtful, contem-
plative way.

The importance of these exercises is very complex.
The child analyses, perfects, fixes his own spoken lan-
guage,— placing an object in correspondence to every
sound which he utters. The composition of the word fur-
nishes him with substantial proof of the necessity for clear
and forceful enunciation.

The exercise, thus followed, associates the sound which
is heard with the graphic sign which represents it, and

284 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

lays a most solid foundation for accurate and perfect
spelling.

In addition to this, the composition of the words is in
itself an exercise of intelligence. The word which is pro-
nounced presents to the child a problem which he must
solve, and he will do so by remembering the signs, select-
ing them from among others, and arranging them in the
proper order. He will have the proof of the exact solu-
tion of his problem when he rereads the word — this word
which he has composed, and which represents for all those
who know how to read it, an idea.

When the child hears others read the word he has com-
posed, he wears an expression of satisfaction and pride,
and is possessed by a species of joyous wonder. He is
impressed by this correspondence, carried on between him-
self and others by means of symbols. The written lan-
guage represents for him the highest attainment reached
by his own intelligence, and is at the same time, the
reward of a great achievement.

When the pupil has finished the composition and the
reading of the word we have him, according to the habits
of order which we try to establish in connection with all
our work, " put away " all the letters, each one in its own
compartment. In composition, pure and simple, there-
fore, the child unites the two exercises of comparison and
of selection of the graphic signs; the first, when from
the entire box of letters before him he takes those neces-
sary ; the second, when he seeks the compartment in which
each letter must be replaced. There are, then, three ex-
ercises united in this one effort, all three uniting to fix
the image of the graphic sign corresponding to the sounds
of the word. The work of learning is in this case facili-
tated in three ways, and the ideas are acquired in a third

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 285

of the time which would have been necessary with the
old methods. We shall soon see that the child, on hear-
ing the word, or on thinking of a word which he already
knows, will see, with his mind's eye, all the letters, neces-
sary to compose the word, arrange themselves. He will
reproduce this vision with a facility most surprising to
us. One day a little boy four years old, running alone
about the terrace, was heard to repeat many times, " To
make Zaira, I must have z-a-i-r-a." Another time, Pro-
fessor Di Donato, in a visit to the " Children's House,"
pronounced his own name for a four-year-old child. The
child was composing the name, using small letters and
making it all one word, and had begun thus — diton.
The professor at once pronounced the word more dis-
tinctly ; di do nato, whereupon the child, without scatter-
ing the letters, picked up the syllable to and placed it to
one side, putting do in the empty space. He then placed
an a after the n, and, taking up the to which he had put
aside, completed the word with it. This made it evident
that the child, when the word was pronounced more
clearly, understood that the syllable to did not belong at
that place in the word, realised that it belonged at the
end of the word, and therefore placed it aside until he
should need it. This was most surprising in a child of
four years, and amazed all of those present. It can be
explained by the clear and, at the same time, complex
vision of the signs which the child must have, if he is to
form a word which he hears spoken. This extraordinary
act was largely due to the orderly mentality which the
child had acquired through repeated spontaneous exer-
cises tending to develop his intelligence.

These three periods contain the entire method for the
acquisition of written language. The significance of such

286 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

a method is clear. The psycho-physiological acts which
unite to establish reading and writing are prepared sep-
arately and carefully. The muscular movements peculiar
to the making of the signs or letters are prepared apart,
and the same is true of the manipulation of the instrument
of writing. The composition of the words, also, is re-
duced to a psychic mechanism of association between
images heard and seen. There comes a moment in which
the child, without thinking of it, fills in the geometric
figures with an up and down stroke, which is free and
regular; a moment in which he touches the letters with
closed eyes, and in which he reproduces their form, mov-
ing his finger through the air; a moment in which the
composition of words has become a psychic impulse, which
makes the child, even when alone, repeat to himself " To
make Zaira I must have z-a-i-r-a."

Now this child, it is true, has never written, but he has
mastered all the acts necessary to writing. The child
who, when taking dictation, not only knows how to com-
pose the word, but instantly embraces in his thought its
composition as a whole, will be able to write, since he
knows how to make, with his eyes closed, the movements
necessary to produce these letters, and since he manages
almost unconsciously the instrument of writing.

More than this, the freedom with which the child has
acquired this mechanical dexterity makes it possible for
the impulse or spirit to act at any time through the
medium of his mechanical ability. He should, sooner or
later, come into his full power by way of a spontaneous
explosion into writing. This is, indeed, the marvellous
reaction which has come from my experiment with normal
children. In one of the " Children's Houses," directed by
Signorina Bettini, I had been especially careful in the

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 287

way in which writing was taught, and we have had from
this school most beautiful specimens of writing, and for
this reason, perhaps I cannot do better than to describe the
development of the work in this school.

One beautiful December day when the sun shone and
the air was like spring, I went up on the roof with the
children. They were playing freely about, and a number
of them were gathered about me. I was sitting near a
chimney, and said to a little five-year-old boy who sat
beside me, " Draw me a picture of this chimney," giving
him as I spoke a piece of chalk. He got down obediently
and made a rough sketch of the chimney on the tiles
which formed the floor of this roof terrace. As is my
custom with little children, I encouraged him, praising
his work. The child looked at me, smiled, remained for
a moment as if on the point of bursting into some joyous
act, and then cried out, " I can write ! I can write ! " and
kneeling down again he wrote on the pavement the word
" hand." Then, full of enthusiasm, he wrote also " chim-
ney," " roof." As he wrote, he continued to cry out, " I
can write ! I know how to write ! " His cries of joy
brought the other children, who formed a circle about
him, looking down at his work in stupefied amazement.
Two or three of them said to me, trembling with excite-
ment, " Give me the chalk. I can write too." And in-
deed they began to write various words: mama, hand,
John, chimney, Ada.

Not one of them had ever taken chalk or any other in-
strument in hand for the purpose of writing. It was the
first time that they had ever written, and they traced an
entire word, as a child, when speaking for the first time,
speaks the entire word.

The first word spoken by a baby causes the mother

288 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

ineffable joy. The child has chosen perhaps the word
" mother/' seeming to render thus a tribute to maternity.
The first word written by my little ones aroused within
themselves an indescribable emotion of joy. Not being
able to adjust in their minds the connection between the
preparation and the act, they were possessed by the illu-
sion that, having now grown to the proper size, they knew
how to write. In other words, writing seemed to them
only one among the many gifts of nature.

They believe that, as they grow bigger and stronger,
there will come some beautiful day when they shall know
how to write. And, indeed, this is what it is in reality.
The child who speaks, first prepares himself uncon-
sciously, perfecting the psycho-muscular mechanism which
leads to the articulation of the word. In the case of writ-
ing, the child does almost the same thing, but the direct
pedagogical help and the possibility of preparing the
movements for writing in an almost material way, causes
the ability to write to develop much more rapidly and more
perfectly than the ability to speak correctly.

In spite of the ease with which this is accomplished,
the preparation is not partial, but complete. The child
possesses all the movements necessary for writing. And
written language develops not gradually, but in an ex-
plosive way ; that is, the child can write any word. Such
was our first experience in the development of the written
language in our children. Those first days we were a
prey to deep emotions. It seemed as if we walked in a
dream, and as if we assisted at some miraculous achieve-
ment.

The child who wrote a word for the first time was full
of excited joy. He might be compared to the hen who
has just laid an egg. Indeed, no one could escape from

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 289

the noisy manifestations of the little one. He would call
everyone to see, and if there were some who did not go,
he ran to take hold of their clothes forcing them to come
and see. We all had to go and stand about the written
word to admire the marvel, and to unite our exclamations
of surprise with the joyous cries of the fortunate author.
Usually, this first word was written on the floor, and, then,
the child knelt down before it in order to be nearer to his
work and to contemplate it more closely.

After the first word, the children, with a species of
frenzied joy, continued to write everywhere. I saw chil-
dren crowding about one another at the blackboard, and
behind the little ones who were standing on the floor
another line would form consisting of children mounted
upon chairs, so that they might write above the heads of
the little ones. In a fury at being thwarted, other chil-
dren, in order to find a little place where they might
write, overturned the chairs upon which their companions
were mounted. Others ran toward the window shutters
or the door, covering them with writing. In these first
days we walked upon a carpet of written signs. Daily
accounts showed us that the same thing was going on at
home, and some of the mothers, in order to save their
pavements, and even the crust of their loaves upon which
they found words written, made their children presents
of paper and pencil. One of these children brought to
me one day a little note-book entirely filled with writing,
and the mother told me that the child had written all day
long and all evening, and had gone to sleep in his bed with
the paper and pencil in his hand.

This impulsive activity which we could not, in those
first days control, made me think upon the wisdom of
Nature, who develops the spoken language little by little,

290 THE MONTESSOHI METHOD

letting it go hand in hand with the gradual formation of
ideas. Think of what the result' would have heen had
Nature acted imprudently as I had done! Suppose Na-
ture had first allowed the human being to gather, by means
of the senses, a rich and varied material, and to acquire a
store of ideas, and had then completely prepared in him
the means for articulate language, saying finally to the
child, mute until that hour, " Go — Speak ! " The result
would have been a species of sudden madness, under the
influence of which the child, feeling no restraints, would
have burst into an exhausting torrent of the most strange
and difficult words.

I believe, however, that there exists between the two
extremes a happy medium which is the true and practical
way. We should lead the child more gradually to the
conquest of written language, yet we should still have it
come as a spontaneous fact,, and his work should from the
first be almost perfect.

Experience has shown us how to control this phe-
nomenon, and how to lead the child more calmly to this
new power. The fact that the children see their compan-
ions writing, leads them, through imitation, to write as
soon as they can. In this way, when the child writes he
does not have the entire alphabet at his disposal, and the
number of words which he can write is limited. He is
not even capable of making all of the words possible
through a combination of the letters which he does know.
He still has the great joy of the first written word, but
this is no longer the source of an overwhelming surprise,
since he sees just such wonderful things happening each
day, and knows that sooner or later the same gift will come
to all. This tends to create a calm and ordered environ-
ment, still full of beautiful and wonderful surprises.

THE METHOD AND THE MATEEIAL 291

Making a visit to the " Children's House," even during
the opening weeks, one makes fresh discoveries. Here, for
instance, are two little children, who, though they fairly
radiate pride and joy, are writing tranquilly. Yet, these
children, until yesterday, had never thought of writing !

The directress tells me that one of them began to write
yesterday morning at eleven o'clock, the other, at three in
the afternoon. We have come to accept the phenomenon
with calmness, and tacitly recognise it as a natural form
of the child's development.

The wisdom of the teacher shall decide when it is nec-
essary to encourage a child to write. This can only be
when he is already perfect in the three periods of the
preparatory exercise, and yet does not write of his own
accord. There is danger that in retarding the act of writ-
ing, the child may plunge finally into a tumultuous effort,
due to the fact that he knows the entire alphabet and has
no natural check.

The signs by which the teacher may almost precisely
diagnose the child's maturity in this respect are: the
regularity of the parallel lines which fill in the geometric
figures; the recognition with closed eyes of the sandpaper
letters; the security and readiness shown in the composi-
tion of words. Before intervening by means of a direct
invitation to write, it is best to wait at least a week in
the hope that the child may write spontaneously. When
he has begun to write spontaneously the teacher may in-
tervene to guide the progress of the writing. The first
help which she may give is that of ruling the blackboard,
so that the child may be led to maintain regularity and
proper dimensions in his writing.

The second, is that of inducing the child, whose writing
is not firm, to repeat the tracing of the sandpaper letters.

292 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

She should do this instead of directly correcting his ac-
tual writing, for the child does 'not perfect himself by
repeating the act of writing, but by repeating the acts
preparatory to writing. I remember a little beginner
who, wishing to make his blackboard writing perfect,
brought all of the sandpaper letters with him, and before
writing touched two or three times all of the letters needed
in the words he wished to write. If a letter did not seem
to him to be perfect he erased it and retouched the letter
upon the card before rewriting.

Our children, even after they have been writing for
a year, continue to repeat the three preparatory exercises.
They thus learn both to write, and to perfect their writ-
ing, without really going through the actual act. With
our children, actual writing is a test; it springs from an
inner impulse, and from the pleasure of explaining a su-
perior activity; it is not an exercise. As the soul of the
mystic perfects itself through prayer, even so in our little
ones, that highest expression of civilisation, written
language, is acquired and improved through exercises
which are akin to, but which are not, writing.

There is educational value in this idea of preparing
oneself before trying, and of perfecting oneself before
going on. To go forward correcting his own mistakes,
boldly attempting things which he does imperfectly, and
of which he is as yet unworthy dulls the sensitiveness of
the child's spirit toward his own errors. My method of
writing contains an educative concept; teaching the child
that prudence which makes him avoid errors, that dignity
which makes him look ahead, and which guides him to
perfection, and that humility which unites him closely to
those sources of good through which alone he can make a
spiritual conquest, putting far from him the illusion that

THE METHOD AND THE MATEEIAL 293

the immediate success is ample justification for continuing
in the way he has chosen.

The fact that all the children, those who are just begin-
ning the three exercises and those who have been writing
for months, daily repeat the same exercise, unites them
and makes it easy for them to meet upon an apparently
equal plane. Here there are no distinctions of beginners,
and experts. All of the children fill in the figures with
coloured pencils, touch the sandpaper letters and compose
words with the movable alphabets; the little ones beside
the big ones who help them. He who prepares himself,
and he who perfects himself, both follow the same path.
It is the same way in life, for, deeper than any social dis-
tinction, there lies an equality, a common meeting point,
where all men are brothers, or, as in the spiritual life,
aspirants and saints again and again pass through the
same experiences.

Writing is very quickly learned, because we begin to
teach it only to those children who show a desire for it by
spontaneous attention to the lesson given by the directress
to other children, or by watching the exercises in which
the others are occupied. Some individuals learn without
ever having received any lessons, solely through listening
to the lessons given to others.

In general, all children of four are intensely interested
in writing, and some of our children have begun to write
at the age of three and a half. We find the children par-
ticularly enthusiastic about tracing the sandpaper letters.

During the first period of my experiments, when the
children were shown the alphabet for the first iime, I one
day asked Signorina Bettini to bring out to the terrace
where the children were at play, all of the various letters
which she herself had made. As soon as the children saw

294 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

them they gathered about us, their fingers outstretched in
their eagerness to touch the letters. Those who secured
cards were unable to touch them properly because of the
other children, who crowded about trying to reach the
cards in our laps. I remember with what an impulsive
movement the possessors of the cards held them on high
like banners, and began to march, followed by all the other
children who clapped their hands and cried out joyously.
The procession passed before us, and all, big and little,
laughed merrily, while the mothers, attracted by the noise,
leaned from the windows to watch the sight.

The average time that elapses between the first trial
of the preparatory exercises and the first written word
is, for children of four years, from a month to a month
and a half. With children of five years, the period is
much shorter, being about a month. But one of our pu-
pils learned to use in writing all the letters of the alpha-
bet in twenty days. Children of four years, after they
have been in school for two months and a half, can write
any word from dictation, and can pass to writing with
ink in a note-book. Our little ones are generally experts
after three months' time, and those who have written for
six months may be compared to the children in the third
elementary. Indeed, writing is one of the easiest and
most delightful of all the conquests made by the child.

If adults learned as easily as children under six years
of age, it would be an easy matter to do away with illiter-
acy. We would probably find two grave hinderances to
the attainment of such a brilliant success: the torpor of
the muscular sense, and those permanent defects of spoken
language, which would be sure to translate themselves into
the written language. I have not made experiments along
this line, but I believe that one school year would be suffi-

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 295

cient to lead an illiterate person, not only to write, but to
express his thoughts in written language.

So Much for the time necessary for learning. As to
the execution, our children write well from the moment in
which they begin. The form of the letters, beautifully
rounded and flowing, is surprising in its similarity to the
form of the sandpaper models. The beauty of our writ-
ing is rarely equalled by any scholars in the elementary
schools, who have not had special exercises in penman-
ship. I have made a close study of penmanship, and I
know how difficult it would be to teach pupils of twelve
or thirteen years to write an entire word without lifting
the pen, except for the few letters which require this.
The up and down strokes with which they have filled their
copy-book make flowing writing almost impossible to them.

Our little pupils, on the other hand, spontaneously, and
with a marvellous security, write entire words without
lifting the pen, maintaining perfectly the slant of the let-
ters, and making the distance between each letter equal.
This has caused more than one visitor to exclaim, " If I
had not seen it I should never have believed it." Indeed,
penmanship is a superior form of teaching and is neces-
sary to correct defects already acquired and fixed. It is
a long work, for the child, seeing the model, must follow
the movements necessary to reproduce it, while there is
no direct correspondence between the visual sensation and
the movements which he must make. Too often, pen-
manship is taught at an age when all the defects have
become established, and when the physiological period in
which the muscular memory is ready, has been passed.

We directly prepare the child, not only for writing, but
also for penmanship, paying great attention to the beauty
of form (having the children touch the letters in script

296 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

form) and to the flowing quality of the letters. (The ex-
ercises in filling-in prepare for this.)

READING

Didactic Material. The Didactic Material for the les-
sons in reading consists in slips of paper or cards upon
which are written in clear, large script, words and phrases.
In addition to these cards we have a great variety of toys.

Experience has taught me to distinguish clearly be-
tween writing and reading, and has shown me that the
two acts are not absolutely contemporaneous. Contrary to
the usually accepted idea, writing precedes reading. I do
not consider as reading the test which the child makes
when he verifies the word that he has written. He is
translating signs into sounds, as he first translated sounds
into signs. In this verification he already knows the
word and has repeated it to himself while writing it.
What I understand by reading is the interpretation of an
idea from the written signs. The child who has not heard
the word pronounced, and who recognises it when he sees
it composed upon the table with the cardboard letters,
and who can tell what it means; this child reads. The
word which he reads has the same relation to written
language that the word which he hears bears to 'articulate
language. Both serve to receive the language transmitted
to us ~by others. So, until the child reads a transmission
of ideas from the written word, he does not read.

We may say, if we like, that writing as described is a
fact in which the psycho-motor mechanism prevails, while
in reading, there enters a work which is purely intel-
lectual. But it is evident how our method for writing
prepares for reading, making the difficulties almost imper-
ceptible. Indeed, writing prepares the child to interpret

THE METHOD AND THE MATEEIAL 297

mechanically the union of the letter sounds of which the
written word is composed. When a child in our school
knows how to write, he knows how to read the sounds of
which the word is composed. It should be noticed, how-
ever, that when the child composes the words with the
movable alphabet, or when he writes, he has time to think
about the signs which he must select to form the word.
The writing of a word requires a great deal more time than
that necessary for reading the same word.

The child who knows how to write, when placed before
a word which he must interpret by reading, is silent for
a long time, and generally reads the component sounds
with the same slowness with which he would have written
them. But the sense of the word becomes evident only
when it is pronounced clearly and with the phonetic ac-
cent. Now, in order to place the phonetic accent the
child must recognise the word; that is, he must recognise
the idea which the word represents. The intervention of a
superior work of the intellect is necessary if he is to read.
Because of all this, I proceed in the following way with
the exercises in reading, and, as will be. evident, I do
away entirely with the old-time primer.

I prepare a number of little cards made from ordinary
writing-paper. On each of these I write in large clear
script some well-known word, one which has already been
pronounced many times by the children, and which repre-
sents an object actually present or well known to them.
If the word refers to an object which is before them, I
place this object under the eyes of the child, in order to
facilitate his interpretation of the word. I will say, in
this connection, the objects used in these writing games
are for the most part toys of which we have a great many
in the " Children's Houses." Among these toys, are the

298 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

furnishings of a doll's house, balls, dolls, trees, flocks of
sheep, or various animals, tin soldiers, railways, and an
infinite variety of simple figures.

If writing serves to correct, or better, to direct and per-
fect the mechanism of the articulate language of the child,
reading serves to help the development of ideas, and re-
lates them to the development of the language. Indeed,
writing aids the physiological language and reading aids
the social language.

We begin, then, as I have indicated, with the nomen-
clature, that is, with the reading of names of objects which
are well known or present.

There is no question of beginning with words that are
easy or difficult, for the child already knows how to read
any word; that is, he knows how to read the sounds which
compose it. I allow the little one to translate the writ-
ten word slowly into sounds, and if the interpretation is
exact, I limit myself to saying, " Easter." The child
reads more quickly the second time, but still often without
understanding. I then repeat, " Easter, faster." He
reads faster each time, repeating the same accumulation
of sounds, and finally the word bursts upon his conscious-
ness. Then he looks upon it as if he recognised a friend,
and assumes that air of satisfaction which so often radi-
ates our little ones. This completes the exercise for
reading. It is a lesson which goes very rapidly, since it
is only presented to a child who is already prepared
through writing. Truly, we have buried the tedious and
stupid ABC primer side by side with the useless copy-
books !

When the child has read the word, he places the ex-
planatory card under the object whose name it bears, and
the exercise is finished.

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 299

One of our most interesting discoveries was made in
the effort to devise a game through which the children
might, without effort, learn to read words. We spread out
upon one of the large tables a great variety of toys. Each
one of them had a corresponding card upon which the
name of the toy was written. We folded these little
cards and mixed them up in a basket, and the children
who knew how to read were allowed to take turns in draw-
ing these cards from the basket. Each child had to carry
his card back to his desk, unfold it quietly, and read it
mentally, not showing it to those about him. He then
had to fold it up again, so that the secret which it con-
tained should remain unknown. Taking the folded card
in his hand, he went to the table. He had then to pro-
nounce clearly the name of a toy and present the card to
the directress in order that she might verify the word he
had spoken. The little card thus became current coin
with which he might acquire the toy he had named. For,
if he pronounced the word clearly and indicated the cor-
rect object, the directress allowed him to take the toy,
and to play with it as long as he wished.

When each child had had a turn, the directress called
the first child and let him draw a card from another
basket. This card he read as soon as he had drawn it.
It contained the name of one of his companions who did
not yet know how to read, and for that reason could not
have a toy. The child who had read the name then of-
fered to his little friend the toy with which he had been
playing. We taught the children to present these toys in
a gracious and polite way, accompanying the act with a
bow. In this way we did away with every idea of class
distinction, and inspired the sentiment of kindness toward
those who did not possess the same blessings as ourselves.

300 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

This reading game proceeded in a marvellous way. The
contentment of these poor children in possessing even for
a little while such beautiful toys can be easily imagined.

But what was my amazement, when the children, hav-
ing learned to understand the written cards, refused to
take the toys! They explained that they did not wish
to waste time in playing, and, with a species of insatiable
desire, preferred to draw out and read the cards one after
another !

I watched them, seeking to understand the secret of
these souls, of whose greatness I had been so ignorant!
As I stood in meditation among the eager children, the
discovery that it was knowledge they loved, and not the
silly game,, filled me with wonder and made me think of
the greatness of the human soul !

We therefore put away the toys, and set about making
hundreds of written slips, containing names of children,
cities, and objects ; and also of colours and qualities known
through the sense exercises. We placed these slips in
open boxes, which we left where the children could make
free use of them. I expected 4hat childish inconstancy
would at least show itself in a tendency to pass from one
box to another; but no, each child finished emptying the
box under his hand before passing to another, being verily
insatiable in the desire to read.

Coming into the school one day, I found that the di-
rectress had allowed the children to take the tables and
chairs out upon the terrace, and was having school in the
open air. A number of little ones were playing in the
sun, while others were seated in a circle about the tables
containing the sandpaper letters and the movable alpha-
bet.

A little apart sat the directress, holding upon her lap

THE METHOD AND THE MATEKIAL 301

a long narrow box full of written slips, and all along the
edge of her box were little hands, fishing for the beloved
cards. " You may not believe me," said the directress,
" but it is more than an hour since we began this, and they
are not satisfied yet ! " We tried the experiment of
bringing balls, and dolls to the children, but without re-
sult ; such futilities had no power beside the joys of knowl-
edge.

Seeing these surprising results, I had already thought
of testing the children with print, and had suggested that
the directress print the word under the written word upon
a number of slips. But the children forestalled us!
There was in the hall a calendar upon which many of the
words were printed in clear type, while others were done
in Gothic characters. In their mania for reading the
children began to look at this calendar, and, to my inex-
pressible amazement, read not only the print, but the
Gothic script.

There therefore remained nothing but the presentation
of a book, and I did not feel that any of those available
were suited to our method.

The mothers soon had proofs of the progress of their
children ; finding in the pockets of some of them little slips
of paper upon which were written rough notes of market-
ing done; bread, salt, etc. Our children were making
lists of the marketing they did for their mothers ! Other
mothers told us that their children no longer ran through
the streets, but stopped to read the signs over the shops.

A four-year-old boy, educated in a private house by
the same method, surprised us in the following way. The
child's father was a Deputy, and received many letters.
He knew that his son had for two months been taught
by means of exercises apt to facilitate the learning of read-

302 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

ing and writing, but he had paid slight attention to it,
and, indeed, put little faith in the method. One day,
as he sat reading, with the boy playing near, a servant en-
tered, and placed upon the table a large number of let-
ters that had just arrived. The little boy turned his
attention to these, and holding up each letter read aloud
the address. To his father this seemed a veritable mir-
acle.

As to the average time required for learning to read and
write, experience would seem to show that, starting from
the moment in which the child writes, the passage from
such an inferior stage of the graphic language to the su-
perior state of reading averages a fortnight. Security in
reading is, however, arrived at much more slowly than
perfection in writing. In the greater majority of cases
the child who writes beautifully, still reads rather poorly.

Not all children of the same age are at the same point
in this matter of reading and writing. We not only do
not force a child, but we do not even invite him, or in any
way attempt to coax him to do that which he does not wish
to do. So it sometimes happens that certain children,
not having spontaneously presented themselves for these
lessons, are left in peace, and do not know how to read or
write.

If the old-time method, which tyrannized over the will
of the child and destroyed his spontaneity, does not be-
lieve in making a knowledge of written language obliga-
tory before the age of six, much less do we !

I am not ready to decide, without a wider experience,
whether the period when the spoken language is fully
developed is, in every case, the proper time for beginning
to develop the written language.

In any case, almost all of the normal children treated

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 303

with our method begin to write at four years, and at five
know how to read and write, at least as well as children
who have finished the first elementary. They could enter
the second elementary a year in advance of the time when
they are admitted to first.

Games for the Reading of Phrases. As soon as my
friends saw that the children could read print, they made
me gifts of beautifully illustrated books. Looking
through these books of simple fairy lore, I felt sure that
the children would not be able to understand them. The
teachers, feeling entirely satisfied as to the ability of their
pupils, tried to show me I was wrong, having different
children read to me, and saying that they read much more
perfectly than the children who had finished the second
elementary.

I did not, however, allow myself to be deceived, and
made two trials. I first had the teacher tell one of the
stories to the children while I observed to what extent
they were spontaneously interested in it. The attention
of the children wandered after a few words. I had for-
bidden the teacher to recall to order those who did not
listen, and thus, little by little, a hum arose in the school-
room, due to the fact that each child, not caring to listen
had returned to his usual occupation.

It was evident that the children, who seemed to read
these books with such pleasure, did not take pleasure in
the sense, but enjoyed the mechanical ability they had
acquired, which consisted in translating the graphic signs
into the sounds of a word they recognised. And, indeed,
the children did not display the same constancy in the
reading of books which they showed toward the written
slips, since in the books they met with so many unfamiliar
words.

304 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

My second test, was to have one of the children read
the hook to me. I did not interrupt with any of those
explanatory remarks by means of which a teacher tries
to help the child follow the thread of the story he is read-
ing, saying for example : " Stop a minute. Do you
understand ? What have you read ? You told me how
the little hoy went to drive in a big carriage, didn't you ?
Pay attention to what the book says, etc."

I gave the book to a little boy, sat down beside him in
a friendly fashion, and when he had read I asked him
simply and seriously as one would speak to a friend, " Did
you understand what you were reading ? " He replied :
" No." But the expression of his face seemed to ask an
explanation of my demand. In fact, the idea that
through the reading of a series of words the complex
thoughts of others might be communicated to us, was to
be for my children one of the beautiful conquests of the
future, a new source of surprise and joy.

The book has recourse to logical language, not to the
mechanism of the language. Before the child can under-
stand and enjoy a book, the logical language must be es-
tablished in him. Between knowing how to read the
words, and how to read the sense, of a book there lies the
same distance that exists between knowing how to pro-
nounce a word and how to make a speech. I, therefore,
stopped the reading from books and waited.

One day, during a free conversation period, four chil-
dren arose at the same time and with expressions of joy
on their faces ran to the blackboard and wrote phrases
upon the order of the following :

" Oh, how glad we are that our garden has begun to
bloom." It was a great surprise for me, and I was deeply
moved. These children had arrived spontaneously at the

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 305

art of composition, just as they had spontaneously written
their first word.

The mechanical preparation was the same, and the phe-
nomenon developed logically. Logical articulate lan-
guage had, when the time was ripe, provoked the corre-
sponding explosion in written language.

I understood that the time had come when we might
proceed to the reading of phrases. I had recourse to the
means used by the children; that is, I wrote upon the
blackboard, " Do you love me ? " The children read it
slowly aloud, were silent for a moment as if thinking,
then cried out, " Yes ! Yes ! " I continued to write ;
" Then make the silence, and watch me." They read this
aloud, almost shouting, but had barely finished when a
solemn silence began to establish itself, interrupted only
by the sounds of the chairs as the children took positions
in which they could sit quietly. Thus began between me
and them a communication by means of written language,
a thing which interested the children intensely. Little by
little, they discovered the great quality of writing — that
it transmits thought. Whenever I began to write, they
fairly trembled in their eagerness to understand what was
my meaning without hearing me speak a word.

Indeed, graphic language does not need spoken words.
It can only be understood in all its greatness when it is
completely isolated from spoken language.

This introduction to reading was followed by the fol-
lowing game, which is greatly enjoyed by the children.
Upon a number of cards I wrote long sentences describ-
ing certain actions which the children were to carry out;
for example, " Close the window blinds ; open the front
door; then wait a moment, and arrange things as they
were at first." " Very politely ask eight of your com-

306 THE MOKTESSORI METHOD

panions to leave their chairs, and to form in double file
in the centre of the room, then have them march forward
and back on tiptoe, making no noise." " Ask three of
your oldest companions who sing nicely, if they will please
come into the centre of the room. Arrange them in a
nice row, and sing with them a song that you have se-
lected," etc., etc. As soon as I finished writing, the chil-
dren seized the cards, and taking them to their seats read
them spontaneously with great intensity of attention, and
all amid the most complete silence.

I asked then, " Do you understand ? " " Yes ! Yes ! "
" Then do what the card tells you," said I, and was de-
lighted to see the children rapidly and accurately follow
the chosen action. A great activity, a movement of a new
sort, was born in the room. There were those who closed
the blinds, and then reopened them; others who made
their companions run on tiptoe, or sing; others wrote
upon the blackboard, or took certain objects from the cup-
boards. Surprise and curiosity produced a general si-
lence, and the lesson developed amid the most intense
interest. It seemed as if some magic force had gone forth
from me stimulating an activity hitherto unknown. This
magic was graphic language, the greatest conquest of
civilisation.

And how deeply the children understood the impor-
tance of it! When I went out, they gathered about me
with expressions of gratitude and affection, saying,
" Thank you ! Thank you ! Thank you for the lesson ! "

This has become one of the favourite games : We first
establish profound silence, then present a basket contain-
ing folded slips, upon each one of which is written a long
phrase describing an action. All those children who
know how to read may draw a slip, and read it mentally

THE METHOD AND THE MATERIAL 307

once or twice until they are certain they understand it.
They then give the slip back to the directress and set about
carrying out the action. Since many of these actions call
for the help of the other children who do not know how
to read, and since many of them call for the handling and
use of the materials, a general activity develops amid
marvellous order, while the silence is only interrupted by
the sound of little feet running lightly, and by the voices
of the children who sing. This is an unexpected revela-
tion of the perfection of spontaneous discipline.

Experience has shown us that composition must precede
logical reading, as writing preceded the reading of the
word. It has also shown that reading, if it is to teach the
child to receive an idea,, should be mental and not vocal.

Heading aloud implies the exercise of two mechanical
forms of the language — articulate and graphic — and
is, therefore, a complex task. Who does not know that a
grown person who is to read a paper in public prepares
for this by making himself master of the content ? Read-
ing aloud is one of the most difficult intellectual actions.
The child, therefore, who begins to read by interpreting
thought should read mentally. The written language
must isolate itself from the articulate, when it rises to
the interpretation of logical thought. Indeed, it repre-
sents the language which transmits thought at a distance,
while the senses and the muscular mechanism are silent.
It is a spiritualised language, which puts into communi-
cation all men who know how to read.

Education having reached such a point in the " Chil-
dren's Houses," the entire elementary school must, as a
logical consequence, be changed. How to reform the
lower grades in the elementary schools, eventually carrying

308 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

them on according to our methods, is a great question
which cannot be discussed here. I can only say that the
first elementary would be completely done away with by
our infant education, which includes it.

The elementary classes in the future should begin with
children such as ours who know how to read and write;
children who know how to take care of themselves ; how to
dress and undress, and to wash themselves; children who
are familiar with the rules of good conduct and courtesy,
and who are thoroughly disciplined in the highest sense
of the term, having developed, and become masters of
themselves, through liberty; children who possess, besides
a perfect mastery of the articulate language, the ability
to read written language in an elementary way, and who
begin to enter upon the conquest of logical language.

These children pronounce clearly, write in a firm hand,
and are full of grace in their movements. They are the
earnest of a humanity grown in the cult of beauty — the
infancy of an all-conquering humanity, since they are
intelligent and patient observers of their environment,
and possess in the form of intellectual liberty the power
of spontaneous reasoning.

For such children, we should found an elementary
school worthy to receive them and to guide them further
along the path of life and of civilisation, a school loyal
to the same educational principles of respect for the free-
dom of the child and for his spontaneous manifestations — •
principles which shall form the personality of these little
men.

THE METHOD AND THE MATEKIAL 309

<7| Y (?•
UoOUA

lAUmXL (WdiUL all/ A

Geamjtnz

I (LOAUX/

die,
cuU' -o unxx vu>

Example of writing done with pen, by a child five years. One-
fourth reduction.

Translation: "We would like to wish a joyous Easter to the
civil engineer Edoardo Talamo and the Princess Maria. We will
ask them to bring their pretty children here. Leave it to me: I
will write for all. April 7. 1909."

CHAPTEE XVIII

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD

GKAPHIC language, comprising dictation and reading,
contains articulate language in its complete mechanism
(auditory channels, central channels, motor channels),
and, in the manner of development called forth by my
method, is based essentially on articulate language.

Graphic language, therefore, may be considered from
two points of view:

(a) That of the conquest of a new language of emi-
nent social importance which adds itself to the articulate
language of natural man; and this is the cultural signifi-
cance which is commonly given to graphic language, which
is therefore taught in the schools without any considera-
tion of its relation to spoken language, but solely with
the intention of offering to the social being a necessary
instrument in his relations with his fellows.

(5) That of the relation between graphic and articu-
late language and, in this relation, of an eventual possi-
bility of utilising the written language to perfect the
spoken : a new consideration upon which I wish to insist
and which gives to graphic language a physiological im-
portance.

Moreover, as spoken language is at the same time a
natural function of man and an instrument which he
utilises for social ends, so written language may be con-
sidered in itself, in its formation, as an organic ensemble

310

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD 311

of new mechanisms which are established in the nervous
system, and as an instrument which may be utilised for
social ends.

In short, it is a question of giving to written language
not only a physiological importance, but also a period of
development independent of the high functions which it
is destined to perform later.

It seems to me that graphic language bristles with
difficulties in its beginning, not only because it has here-
tofore been taught by irrational methods, but because we
have tried to make it perform, as soon as it has been ac-
quired, the high function of teaching the written lan-
guage which has been fixed by centuries of perfecting in a
civilised people.

Think how irrational have been the methods we have
used! We have analysed the graphic signs rather than
the physiological acts necessary to produce the alphabeti-
cal signs; and this without considering that any graphic
sign is difficult to achieve, because the visual representa-
tion of the signs have no hereditary connection with the
motor representations necessary for producing them; as,
for example, the auditory representations of the word
have with the motor mechanism of the articulate language.
It is, therefore, always a difficult thing to provoke a
stimulative motor action unless we have already estab-
lished the movement before the visual representation of
the sign is made. It is a difficult thing to arouse an
activity that shall produce a motion unless that motion
shall have been previously established by practice and by
the power of habit.

Thus, for example, the analysis of writing into little
straight lines and curves has brought us to present to the
child a sign without significance, which therefore does.

312 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

not interest him, and whose representation is incapable of
determining a spontaneous motor impulse. The artificial
act constituted, therefore, an effort of the will which re-
sulted for the child in rapid exhaustion exhibited in the
form of boredom and suffering. To this effort was added
the effort of constituting synchronously the muscular asso-
ciations co-ordinating the movements necessary to the
holding and manipulating the instrument of writing.

All sorts of depressing feelings accompanied such ef-
forts and conduced to the production of imperfect and
erroneous signs which the teachers had to correct, dis-
couraging the child still more with the constant criticism
of the error and of the imperfection of the signs traced.
Thus, while the child was urged to make an effort, the
teacher depressed rather than revived his psychical forces.

Although such a mistaken course was followed, the
graphic language, so painfully learned, was nevertheless
to be immediately utilised for social ends; and, still im-
perfect and immature, was made to do service in the
syntactical construction of the language, and in the ideal
expression of the superior psychic centres. One must
remember that in nature the spoken language is formed
gradually; and it is already established in words when
the superior psychic centres use these words in what
Kussmaul calls dictorium, in the syntactical grammatical
formation of language which is necessary to the expres-
sion of complex ideas; that is, in the language of the
logical mind.

In short the mechanism of language is a necessary
antecedent of the higher psychic activities which are to
utilise it.

There are, therefore, two periods in the development
of language: a lower one which prepares the nervous

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD 313

channel and the central mechanisms which are to put
the sensory channels in relation with the motor channels;
and a higher one determined by the higher psychic ac-
tivities which are exteriorized by means of the preformed
mechanisms of language.

Thus for example in the scheme which Kussmaul gives
on the mechanism of articulate language we must first
of all distinguish a sort of cerebral diastaltic arc (repre-
senting the pure mechanism of
the word), which is established
in the first formation of the
spoken language. Let E be the
ear, and T the motor organs of speech, taken as a whole
and here represented by the tongue, A the auditory centre
of speech, and M the motor centre. The channels EA
and MT are peripheral channels, the former centripetal
and the latter centrifugal, and the channel AM is the inter-
central channel of association.

The centre A in which reside the auditive images of

words may be again subdivided into
So three, as in the following scheme,

viz.: Sound (So), syllables (Sy),

and words (W).

That partial centres for sounds

and syllables can really be formed,

the pathology of language seems to
establish, for in some forms of centro-sensory dysphasia,
the patients can pronounce only sounds, or at most sounds
and syllables.

Small children, too, are, at the beginning, particularly
sensitive to simple sounds of language, with which indeed,
and especially with s, their mothers caress them and at-
tract their attention; while later the child is sensitive to

314

THE MONTESSORI METHOD

syllables, with which also the mother caresses him, saying :
" ~ba, ba, punf, tuf! "

Finally it is the simple word,
dissyllabic in most cases, which
attracts the child's attention.
But for the motor centres also
the same thing may be re-
peated; the child utters at
the beginning simple or
double sounds, as for ex-
ample ~bl, gl, ch, an expression which the mother
greets with joy; then distinctly syllabic sounds
begin to manifest themselves in the child: ga, ba;
and, finally, the dissyllabic word, usually labial: mama.
We say that the spoken language begins with the child
when the word pronounced by
him signifies an idea; when for
example, seeing his mother and
recognising her he says " mam-
ma;" and seeing a dog says,
" tette; " and wishing to eat says : " pappa."

Thus we consider language begun when it is established
in relation to perception; while the language itself is still,
in its psycho-motor mechanism, perfectly rudimentary.

That is, when above the diastaltic arc where the me-
chanical formation of the language is still unconscious,
the recognition of the word takes place, that is, the word
is perceived and associated with the object which it rep-
resents, language is considered to have begun.

On this level, later, language continues the process of
perfecting in proportion as the hearing perceives better
the component sounds of the words and the psycho-motor
channels become more permeable to articulation.

LANGUAGE I1ST CHILDHOOD 315

This is the first stage of spoken language, which has
its own beginning and its own development, leading,
through the perceptions, to the perfecting of the primor-
dial mechanism of the language itself; and at this stage
precisely is established what we call articulate language,
which will later be the means which the adult will have at
his disposal to express his own thoughts, and which the
adult will have great difficulty in perfecting or correcting
when it has once been established : in fact a high stage of
culture sometimes accompanies an imperfect articulate
language which prevents the aesthetic expression of one's
thought.

The development of articulate language takes place in
the period between the age of two and the age of seven:
the age of perceptions in which the attention of the child
is spontaneously turned towards external objects, and the
memory is particularly tenacious. It is the age also of
motility in which all the psycho-motor channels are be-
coming permeable and the muscular mechanisms establish
themselves. In this period of life by the mysterious bond
between the auditory channel and the motor channel of
the spoken language it would seem that the auditory per-
ceptions have the direct power of provoking the compli-
cated movements of articulate speech which develop in-
stinctively after such stimuli as if awaking from the
slumber of heredity. It is well known that it is only at
this age that it is possible to acquire all the characteristic
modulations of a language which it would be vain to
attempt to establish later. The mother tongue alone is
well pronounced because it was established in the period
of childhood; and the adult who learns to speak a new
language must bring to it the imperfections characteristic
of the foreigner's speech: only children who under the

316 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

age of seven years learn several languages at the same
time can receive and reproduce all the characteristic man-,
nerisms of accent and pronunciation.

Thus also the defects acquired in childhood such as
dialectic defects or those established by bad habits, be-
come indelible in the adult.

What develops later, the superior language, the dicto-
riurn, no longer has its origin in the mechanism of lan-
guage but in the intellectual development which makes
use of the mechanical language. As the articulate lan-
guage develops by the exercise of its mechanism and is
enriched by perception, the dictorium develops with syn-
tax and is enriched by intellectual culture. Going back
to the scheme of language we see that above the arc which

defines the lower language, is
established the dictorium, D, —
from which now come the motor
impulses of speech — which is
established as spoken language fit
to manifest the ideation of the in-
telligent man; this language will
be enriched little by little by intellectual culture and per-
fected by the grammatical study of syntax.

Hitherto, as a result of a preconception, it has been
believed that written language should enter only into the
development of the dictorium, as the suitable means for
the acquisition of culture and of permitting grammatical
analysis and construction of the language. Since " spoken
words have wings " it has been admitted that intellectual
culture could only proceed by the aid of a language which
was stable, objective, and capable of being analysed, such
as the graphic language.

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD 317

But why, when we acknowledge the graphic language
- as a precious, nay indispensable, instrument of intellectual
education, for the reason that it fixes the ideas of men and
permits of their analysis and of their assimilation in
books, where they remain indelibly written as an inef-
faceable memory of words which are therefore always
present and by which we can analyse the syntactical
structure of the language, why shall we not acknowledge
that it is useful in the more humble task of fixing the
words which represent perception and of analysing their
component sounds?

Compelled by a pedagogical prejudice we are unable to
separate the idea of a graphic language from that of a
function which heretofore we have made it exclusively
perform; and it seems to us that by teaching such a lan-
guage to children still in the age of simple perceptions
and of motility we are committing a serious psychological
and pedagogical error.

But let us rid ourselves of this prejudice and consider
the graphic language in itself, reconstructing its psycho-
physiological mechanism. It is far more simple than the
psycho-physiological mechanism of the articulate lan-
guage, and is far more directly accessible to educa-
tion.

Writing especially is surprisingly simple. For let us
consider dictated writing: we have a perfect parallel with
spoken language since a motor action must correspond
with heard speech. Here there does not exist, to be sure,
the mysterious hereditary relations between the heard
speech and the articulate speech; but the movements of
writing are far simpler than those necessary to the spoken
word, and are performed by large muscles, all external,

318 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

upon which we can directly act, rendering the motor chan-
nels permeable, and establishing psycho-muscular mech-
anisms.

This indeed is what is done by my method, which pre-
pares the movements directly; so that the psycho-motor
impulse of the heard speech finds the motor channels al-
ready established, and is manifested in the act of writing,
like an explosion.

The real difficulty is in the interpretation of the graphic
signs; but we must remember that we are in the age of
perceptions, where the sensations and the memory as well
as the primitive associations are involved precisely in the
characteristic progress of natural development. Moreover
our children are already prepared by various exercises of
the senses, and by methodical construction of ideas and
mental associations to perceive the graphic signs; some-
thing like a patrimony of perceptive ideas offers material
to the language in the process of development. The child
who recognises a triangle and calls it a triangle can rec-
ognise a letter s and denominate it by the sound s. This
is obvious.

Let us not talk of premature teaching; ridding our-
selves of prejudices, let us appeal to experience which
shows that in reality children proceed without effort, nay
rather with evident manifestations of pleasure to the
recognition of graphic signs pre-
sented as objects.

And with this premise let us
consider the relations between the
mechanisms of the two languages.

The child of three or four has already long begun his
articulate language according to our scheme. But he
finds himself in the period in which the mechanism of

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD 319

articulate language is being perfected; a period contempo-
rary with that in which he is acquiring a content of lan-
guage along with the patrimony of perception.

The child has perhaps not heard perfectly in all their
component parts the words which he pronounces, and, if
he has heard them perfectly, they may have been pro-
nounced badly, and consequently have left an erroneous
auditory perception. It would be well that the child, by
exercising the motor channels of articulate language
should establish exactly the movements necessary to a per-
fect articulation, before the age of easy motor adaptations
is passed, and, by the fixation of erroneous mechanisms,
the defects become incorrigible.

To this end the analysis of speech is necessary. As
when we wish to perfect the language we first start chil-
dren at composition and then pass to grammatical study;
and when we wish to perfect the style we first teach to
write grammatically and then come to the analysis of
style — so when we wish to perfect the speech it is first
necessary that the speech exist, and then it is proper to
proceed to its analysis. When, therefore, the child
speaks, but before the completion of the development of
speech which renders it fixed in mechanisms already es-
tablished, the speech should be analysed with a view to
perfecting it.

Now, as grammar and rhetoric are not possible with
the spoken language but demand recourse to the written
language which keeps ever before the eye the discourse to
be analysed, so it is with speech.

The analysis of the transient is impossible.

The language must be materialised and made stable.
Hence the necessity of the written word or the word rep-
resented by graphic signs.

320

THE MONTESSOBI METHOD

In the third stage of my method for writing, that is,
composition of speech, is included the analysis of the word
not only into signs, but into the com-
ponent sounds; the signs representing
its translation. The child, that is,
divides the heard word which he per-
ceives integrally as a word, know-
ing also its meanings, into sounds
and syllables.

Let me call attention to the following diagram
which represents the interrelation of the two mechanisms
for writing and for articulate speech.

Whereas in the development of spoken language the
sound composing the word might be imperfectly perceived,
here in the teaching of the graphic sign corresponding

The peripheric channels are indicated by heavy lines; the central
channels of association by dotted lines; and those referring to
association in relation to the development of the heard speech by
light lines.

E ear; So auditory centre of sounds; Sy auditory centre of sylla-
bles; W auditory centre of word; M motor centre of the articulate
speech; T external organs of articulate speech (tongue) ; H external
organs of writing (hand) ; MC motor centre of writing; VC visual
centre of graphic signs; V organ of vision.

to the sound (which teaching consists in presenting to the
child a sandpaper letter, naming it distinctly and making

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD 321

the child see it and touch it), not only is the perception
of the heard sound clearly fixed — separately and clearly
— but this perception is associated with two others: the
centro-motor perception and the centro-visual perception
of the written sign.

The triangle VC, MC, So represents the association of
three sensations in relation with the analysis of speech.

When the letter is presented to the child and he is made
to touch and see it, while it is being named, the centrip-
etal channels ESo; H, MC, So; V, VC, So are acting
and when the child is made to name the letter, alone or
accompanied by a vowel, the external stimulus acts in V
and passes through the channels F, VC, So, M, T; and
V, CV, So, Sy, M, T.

When these channels of association have been estab-
lished by presenting visual stimuli in the graphic sign,
the corresponding movements of articulate language can
be provoked and studied one by one in their defects;
while, by maintaining the visual stimulus of the graphic
sign which provokes articulation and accompanying it by
the auditory stimulus of the corresponding sound uttered
by the teacher, their articulation can be perfected; this
articulation is by innate conditions connected with the
heard speech ; that is, in the course of the pronunciation
provoked by the visual stimulus, and during the repetition
of the relative movements of the organs of language, the
auditory stimulus which is introduced into the exercise
contributes to the perfecting of the pronunciation of
the isolated or syllabic sounds composing the spoken
word.

When later the child writes under dictation, translating
into signs the sounds of speech, he analyses the heard
speech into its sounds, translating them into graphic move-

322 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

merits through channels already rendered permeable by
the corresponding muscular sensations.

DEFECTS OF LANGUAGE DUE TO LACK OF EDUCATION

Defects and imperfections of language are in part due
to organic causes, consisting in malformations or in patho-
logical alterations of the nervous system ; but in part they
are connected with functional defects acquired in the
period of the formation of language and consist in an
erratic pronunciation of the component sounds of the
spoken word. Such errors are acquired by the child who
hears words imperfectly pronounced, or hears bad speech.
The dialectic accent enters into this category; but there
also enter vicious habits which make the natural defects
of the articulate language of childhood persist in the
child, or which provoke in him by imitation the defects
of language peculiar to the persons who surrounded him
in his childhood.

The normal defects of child language are due to the
fact that the complicated muscular agencies of the organs
of articulate language do not yet function well and are
consequently incapable of reproducing the sound which
was the sensory stimulus of a certain innate movement.
The association of the movements necessary to the articu-
lation of the spoken words is established little by little.
The result is a language made of words with sounds which
are imperfect and often lacking (whence incomplete
words). Such defects are grouped under the name
blcesitas and are especially due to the fact that the child
is not yet capable of directing the movements of his
tongue. They comprise chiefly: sigmatism or imperfect
pronunciation of s; rhotacism or imperfect pronunciation
of r; lambdacism or imperfect pronunciation of I; gam-

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD 323

maoism or imperfect pronunciation of g; iotacism, de-
fective pronunciation of the gutturals; mogilalia f imper-
fect pronunciation of the labials, and according to some
authors, as Preyer, mogilalia is made to include also the
suppression of the first sound of a word.

Some defects of pronunciation which concern the utter-
ance of the vowel sound as well as that of the consonant
are due to the fact that the child reproduces perfectly
sounds imperfectly heard.

In the first case, then, it is a matter of functional in-
sufficiencies of the peripheral motor organ and hence of
the nervous channels, and the cause lies in the individual ;
whereas in the second case the error is caused by the
auditory stimulus and the cause lies outside.

These defects often persist, however attenuated, in the
boy and the adult: and produce finally an erroneous lan-
guage to which will later be added in writing orthograph-
ical errors, such for example as dialectic orthographical
errors.

If one considers the charm of human speech one is
bound to acknowledge the inferiority of one who does not
possess a correct spoken language; and an aesthetic con-
ception in education cannot be imagined unless special
care be devoted to perfecting articulate language. Al-
though the Greeks had transmitted to Rome the art of
educating in language, this practice was not resumed by
Humanism which cared more for the aesthetics of the en-
vironment and the revival of artistic works than for the
perfecting of the man.

To-day we are just beginning to introduce the practice
of correcting by pedagogical methods the serious defects
of language, such as stammering ; but the idea of linguistic
gymnastics tending to its perfection has not yet penetrated

324 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

into our schools as a universal method, and as a detail of
the great work of the aesthetic perfecting of man.

Some teachers of deaf mutes and intelligent devotees
of orthophony are trying nowadays with small practical
success to introduce into the elementary schools the cor-
rection of the various forms of blcesitas, as a result of
statistical studies which have demonstrated the wide diffu-
sion of such defects among the pupils. The exercises
consist essentially in silence cures which procure calm and
repose for the organs of language, and in patient repetition
of the separate vowel and consonant sounds; to these exer-
cises is added also respiratory gymnastics. This is not
the place to describe in detail the methods of these exer-
cises which are long and patient and quite out of harmony
with the teachings of the school. But in my methods are
to be found all exercises for the corrections of language:

(a) Exercises of Silence, which prepare the nervous
channels of language to receive new stimuli perfectly ;

(&) Lessons which consist first of the distinct pro-
nunciation by the teacher of few words (especially of
nouns which must be associated with a concrete idea) ; by
this means clear and perfect auditory stimuli of language
are started, stimuli which are repeated by the teacher
when the child has conceived the idea of the object repre-
sented by the word (recognition of the object) ; finally of
the provocation of articulate language on the part of the
child who must repeat that word alone aloud, pronouncing
its separate sounds;

(c) Exercises in Graphic Language, which analyse
the sounds of speech and cause them to be repeated sepa-
rately in several ways: that is, when the child learns the
separate letters of the alphabet and when he composes or

LANGUAGE IN CHILDHOOD 325

writes words, repeating their sounds which he translates
separately into composed or written speech ;

(d) Gymnastic Exercises, which comprise, as we have
seen, both respiratory exercises and those of articulation.

I believe that in the schools of the future the conception
will disappear which is beginning to-day of " correcting
in the elementary schools" the defects of language; and
will be replaced by the more rational one of avoiding them
by caring for the development of language in the " Chil-
dren's Houses " ; that is, in the very age in which language
is being established in the child.

CHAPTEE XIX

TEACHING OF [NUMERATION; INTRODUCTION TO
ARITHMETIC

CHILDREN of three years already know how to count as
far as two or three when they enter our schools. They
therefore very easily learn numeration, which consists in
counting objects. A dozen different ways may serve to-
ward this end, and daily life presents many opportunities ;
when the mother says, for instance, " There are two but-
tons missing from your apron," or " We need three more
plates at table."

One of the first means used by me, is that of counting
with money. I obtain new money, and if it were possible
I should have good reproductions made in cardboard. I
have seen such money used in a school for deficients in
London.

The making of change is a form of numeration so at-
tractive as to hold the attention of the child. I present
the one, two, and four centime pieces and the children, in
this way learn to count to ten.

No form of instruction is more practical than that tend-
ing to make children familiar with the coins in common
use, and no exercise is more useful than that of making
change. It is so closely related to daily life that it inter-
ests all children intensely.

Having taught numeration in this empiric mode, I pass
to more methodical exercises, having as didactic material

326

TEACHING OF NUMEKATIOST 327

one of the sets of blocks already used in the education of
the senses; namely, the series of ten rods heretofore used
for the teaching of length. The shortest of these fods cor-
responds to a decimetre, the longest to a metre, while the
intervening rods are divided into sections a decimetre in
length. The sections are painted alternately red and blue.
Some day, when a child has arranged the rods, placing

7 8

789

7 8 9 10

them in order of length, we have him count the red and
blue signs, beginning with the smallest piece; that is, one;
one, two; one, two, three, etc., always going back to one
in the counting of each rod, and starting from the side A.
We then have him name the single rods from the short-
est to the longest, according to the total number of the
sections which each contains, touching the rods at the sides

328 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

B, on which side the stair ascends. This results in the
same numeration as when we counted the longest rod — 1,
2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Wishing to know the number
of rods, we count them from the side A and the same
numeration results; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. This
correspondence of the three sides of the triangle causes the
child to verify his knowledge and as the exercise interests
him he repeats it many times.

We now unite to the exercises in numeration the earlier,
sensory exercises in which the child recognised the long
and short rods. Having mixed the rods upon a carpet,
the directress selects one, and showing it to the child, has
him count the sections; for example, 5. She then asks
him to give her the one next in length. He selects it by
his eye, and the directress has him verify his choice
by placing the two pieces side by side and by counting
their sections. Such exercises may be repeated in great
variety and through them the child learns to assign a par-
ticular name to each one of the pieces in the long stair.
We may now call them piece number one; piece number
two, etc., and finally, for brevity, may speak of them in
the lessons as one, two, three, etc.

THE NUMBERS AS REPRESENTED BY THE GRAPHIC SIGNS

At this point, if the child already knows how to write,
we may present the figures cut in sandpaper and mounted
upon cards. In presenting these, the method is the same
used in teaching the letters. " This is one." " This is
two." "Give me one." "Give me two." "What
number is this ? " The child traces the number with his
finger as he did the letters.

Exercises with Numbers. Association of the graphic
sign with the quantity.

TEACHING OF NUMEKATION 329

I have designed two trays each divided into five little
compartments. At the back of each compartment may be
placed a card bearing a figure. The figures in the first
tray should be 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, and in the second, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.

The exercise is obvious; it consists in placing within
the compartments a number of objects corresponding to
the figure indicated upon the card at the back of the com-
partment. We give the children various objects in order
to vary the lesson, but chiefly make use of large wooden
pegs so shaped that they will not roll off the desk. We
place a number of these before the child whose part is to
arrange them in their places, one peg corresponding to the
card marked one, etc. When he has finished he takes his
tray to the directress that she may verify his work.

The Lesson on Zero. We wait until the child, pointing
to the compartment containing the card marked zero, asks,
" And what must I put in here ? " We then reply,
" Nothing ; zero is nothing." But often this is not
enough. It is necessary to make the child feel what we
mean by nothing. To this end we make use of little
games which vastly entertain the children. I stand among
them, and turning to one of them who has already used
this material, I say, " Come, dear, come to me zero times."
The child almost always comes to me, and then runs back
to his place. " But, my boy, you came one time, and I
told you to come zero times." Then he begins to wonder.
" But what must I do, then ? " " Nothing ; zero is noth-
ing." " But how shall I do nothing ? " " Don't do any-
thing. You must sit still. You must not come at all,
not any times. Zero times. No times at all." I repeat
these exercises until the children understand, and they are
then immensely amused at remaining quiet when I call to
them to come to me zero times, or to throw me zero kisses.

330 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

They themselves often cry out, " Zero is nothing ! Zero
is nothing ! "

EXERCISES FOR THE MEMORY OF NUMBERS

When the children recognise the written figure, and
when this figure signifies to them the numerical value, I
give them the following exercise:

I cut the figures from old calendars and mount them
upon slips of paper which are then folded and dropped
into a box. The children draw out the slips, carry them
still folded, to their seats, where they look at them and
refold them, conserving the secret. Then, one by one, or
in groups, these children (who are naturally the oldest
ones in the class) go to the large table of the directress
where groups of various small objects have been placed.
Each one selects the quantity of objects corresponding to
the number he has drawn. The number, meanwhile, has
been left at the child's place, a slip of paper mysteriously
folded. The child, therefore, must remember his number
not only during the movements which he makes in coming
and going, but while he collects his pieces, counting them
one by one. The directress may here make interesting
individual observations upon the number memory.

When the child has gathered up his objects he arranges
them upon his own table, in columns of two, and if the
number is uneven, he places the odd piece at the bottom
and between the last two objects. The arrangement of
the pieces is therefore as follows : —

o-ooooooooo

X XX XX XX XX XX XX XX XX XX

X XX XX XX XX XX XX XX

X XX XX XX XX XX

X XX XX XX

X XX

TEACHING OF NUMERATION 331

The crosses represent the objects, while the circle stands
for the folded slip containing the figure. Having arranged
his objects, the child awaits the verification. The direct-
ress comes, opens the slip, reads the number, and counts
the pieces.

When we first played this game it often happened that
the children took more objects than were called for upon
the card, and this was not always because they did not
remember the number, but arose from a mania for the
having the greatest number of objects. A little of that
instinctive greediness, which is common to primitive and
uncultured man. The directress seeks to explain to the
children that it is useless to have all those things upon
the desk, and that the point of the game lies in taking the
exact number of objects called for.

Little by little they enter into this idea, but not so easily
as one might suppose. It is a real effort of self-denial
which holds the child within the set limit, and makes him
take, for example, only two of the objects placed at his
disposal, while he sees others taking more. I therefore
consider this game more an exercise of will power than
of numeration. The child who has the zero, should not
move from his place when he sees all his companions rising
and taking freely of the objects which are inaccessible to
him. Many times zero falls to the lot of a child who
knows how to count perfectly, and who would experience
great pleasure in accumulating and arranging a fine group
of objects in the proper order upon his table, and in await-
ing with security the teacher's verification.

It is most interesting to study the expressions upon the
faces of those who possess zero. The individual differ-
ences which result are almost a revelation of the " char-
acter " of each one. Some remain impassive, assuming a

332 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

bold front in order to hide the pain of the disappointment ;
others show this disappointment by involuntary gestures.
Still others cannot hide the smile which is called forth by
the singular situation in which they find themselves, and
which will make their friends curious. There are little
ones who follow every movement of their companions with
a look of desire, almost of envy, while others show instant
acceptance of the situation. No less interesting are the
expressions with which they confess to the holding of the
zero, when asked during the verification, " and you, you
haven't taken anything ? " "I have zero." " It is zero."
These are the usual words, but the expressive face, the
tone of the voice, show widely varying sentiments. Rare,
indeed, are those who seem to give with pleasure the ex-
planation of an extraordinary fact. The greater number
either look unhappy or merely resigned.

We therefore give lessons upon the meaning of the
game, saying, " It is hard to keep the zero secret. Fold
the paper tightly and don't let it slip away. It is the most
difficult of all." Indeed, after awhile, the very difficulty
of remaining quiet appeals to the children, and when they
open the slip marked zero it can be seen that they are con-
tent to keep the secret.

ADDITION AND SUBTRACTION FROM ONE TO TWENTY:
MULTIPLICATION AND DIVISION

The didactic material which we use for the teaching of
the first arithmetical operations is the same already used
for numeration; that is, the rods graduated as to length
which, arranged on the scale of the metre, contain the first
idea of the decimal system.

The rods, as I have said, have come to be called by the
numbers which they represent ; one, two, three, etc. They

TEACHING OF NUMEKATION 333

are arranged in order of length, which is also in order of
numeration.

The first exercise consists in trying to put the shorter
pieces together in such a way as to form tens. The most
simple way of doing this is to take successively the short-
est rods, from one up, and place them at the end of the
corresponding long rods from nine down. This may be
accompanied by the commands, " Take one and add it to
nine ; take two and add it to eight ; take three and add it
to seven; take four and add it to six." In this way we
make four rods equal to ten. There remains the five, but,
turning this upon its head (in the long sense), it passes
from one end of the ten to the other, and thus makes clear
the fact that two times five makes ten.

These exercises are repeated and little by little the child
is taught the more technical language; nine plus one
equals ten, eight plus two equals ten, seven plus three
equals ten, six plus four equals ten, and for the five, which
remains, two times five equals ten. At last, if he can
write, we teach the signs plus and equals and times.
Then this is what we see in the neat note-books of our little
ones:

9 -f 1 = 10

6 + 4 = 10

When all this is well learned and has been put upon the
paper with great pleasure by the children, we call their
attention to the work which is done when the pieces
grouped together to form tens are taken apart, and put
back in their original positions. From the ten last formed
we take away four and six remains ; from the next we take
away three and seven remains; from the next, two and
eight remains; from the last, we take away one and nine

334:

THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

remains. Speaking of this properly we say, ten less four
equals six ; ten less three equals seven ; ten less two equals
eight ; ten less one equals nine.

In regard to the remaining five, it is the half of ten,
and by cutting the long rod in two, that is dividing ten by
two, we would have five; ten divided by two equals five.
The written record of all this reads :

10—1 = 9

Once the children have mastered this exercise they
multiply it spontaneously. Can we make three in two
ways ? We place the one after the two and then write,
in order that we may remember what we have done,
2 + 1 = 3. Can we make two rods equal to number
four? 3 + 1 = 4, and 4 — 3 = 1; 4 — 1 = 3. Eod
number two in its relation to rod number four is treated
as was five in relation to ten ; that is, we turn it over and
show that it is contained in four exactly two times:
4-^-2 = 2; 2X2 = 4. Another problem : let us see
with how many rods we can play this same game. We
can do it with three and six; and with four and eight;
that is,

2X2 =
10-^-2 =

3X2 =
8-f-2 =

4X2 =

5 X 2 = 10
4-f-2 = 2

At this point we find that the cubes with which we played
the number memory games are of help :

X .X

X XX X
X X

X XX X
X XX X
X X

X XX X
X XX X
X XX X
X X

X XX X
X XX X
X XX X
X XX X
X X

TEACHING OF NUMERATION 335

From this arrangement, one sees at once which are the
numbers which can be divided by two — all those which
have not an odd cube at the bottom. These are the even
numbers, because they can be arranged in pairs, two by
two; and the division by two is easy, all that is necessary
being to separate the two lines of twos that stand one
under the other. Counting the cubes of each file we have
the quotient. To recompose the primitive number we
need only reassemble the two files thus 2X3 = 6. All
this is not difficult for children of five years.

The repetition soon becomes monotonous, but the exer-
cises may be most easily changed, taking again the set of
long rods, and instead of placing rod number one after
nine, place it after ten. In the same way, place two after
nine, and three after eight. In this way we make rods
of a greater length than ten ; lengths which we must learn
•to name eleven, twelve, thirteen, etc., as far as twenty.
The little cubes, too, may be used to fix these higher num-
bers.

Having learned the operations through ten, we proceed
with no difficulty to twenty. The one difficulty lies in the
decimal numbers which require certain lessons.

LESSONS ON DECIMALS: ARITHMETICAL CALCULATIONS

BEYOND TEN

The necessary didactic material consists of a number of
[uare cards upon which the figure ten is printed in large
type, and of other rectangular cards, half the size of the
square, and containing the single numbers from one to
nine. We place the numbers in a line ; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, T,
8, 9, 10. Then, having no more numbers, we must begin
over again and take the 1 again. This 1 is like that sec-
tion in the set of rods which, in rod number 10, extends

336

THE MONTESSORI METHOD

beyond nine. Counting along the stair as far as nine,
there remains this one section which, as there are no
more numbers, we again designate as 1 ; but this is a
higher 1 than the first, and to distinguish it from the first
we put near it a zero, a sign which means nothing. Here
then is 10. Covering the zero with the separate rectangu-
lar number cards in the order of their succession we see
formed: 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19. These num-
bers are composed by adding to rod number 10, first rod
number 1, then 2, then 3, etc., until we finally add rod
number 9 to rod number 10, thus obtaining a very long
rod, which, when its alternating red and blue sections are
counted, gives us nineteen.

The directress may then show to the child the cards,
giving the number 16, and he may place rod 6 after rod 10.
She then takes away the card bearing 6, and places over
the zero the card bearing the figure 8, whereupon the child

takes away rod 6 and replaces
it with rod 8, thus making 18.
Each of these acts may be
recorded thus : 10 + 6 = 16 ;
10 + 8 = 18, etc. We proceed
in the same way to subtraction.
When the number itself be-
gins to have a clear meaning to
the child, the combinations are
made upon one long card, ar-
ranging the rectangular cards bearing the nine figures
upon the two columns of numbers shown in the figures A
and B.

Upon the card A we superimpose upon the zero of the
second 10, the rectangular card bearing the 1 : and under
this the one bearing two, etc. Thus while the one of the

10
10

10
10
10
10
10
10
10

10
20
30
40
50
60
70
80
90

TEACHING OF NUMERATION

337

ten remains the same the numbers to the right proceed
from zero to nine, thus :

In card B the applications are more complex.
The cards are superimposed in numerical pro-
gression by tens.

Almost all our children count to 100, a num-
ber which was given to them in response to the
curiosity they showed in regard to learning it.

I do not believe that this phase of the teach-
ing needs further illustrations. Each teacher
may multiply the practical exercises in the
arithmetical operations, using simple objects
which the children can readily handle and
divide.

10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20

CHAPTER XX
SEQUENCE OF EXERCISES

IN the practical application of the method it is helpful
to know the sequence, or the various series, of exercises
which must be presented to the child successively.

In the first edition of my book there was clearly indi-
cated a progression for each exercise ; but in the " Chil-
dren's Houses " we began contemporaneously with the
most varied exercises; and it develops that there exist
grades in the presentation of the material in its entirety.
These grades have, since the first publication of the book,
become clearly defined through experience in the " Chil-
dren's Houses."

SEQUENCE AND GRADES IN THE PRESENTATION OF MA-
TERIAL AND IN THE EXERCISES
.

First Grade

As soon as the child comes to the school he may be given
the following exercises :

Moving the seats, in silence (practical life).

Lacing, buttoning, hooking, etc.

The cylinders (sense exercises).

Among these the most useful exercise is that of the
cylinders (solid insets). The child here begins to fix his
attention. He makes his first comparison, his first selec-
tion, in which he exercises judgment. Therefore he ex-
ercises his intelligence.

338

SEQUENCE OF EXEECISES 339

Among these exercises with the solid insets, there ex-
ists the following progression from easy to difficult:

(a) The cylinders in which the pieces are of the same
height and of decreasing diameter.

(b) The cylinders decreasing in all dimensions.

Second Grade

Exercises of P radical Life. To rise and be seated in
silence. To walk on the line.

Sense Exercises. Material dealing with dimensions.
The Long Stair. The prisms, or Big Stair. The cubes.
Here the child makes exercises in the recognition of di-
mensions as he did in the cylinders but under a very dif-
ferent aspect. The objects are much larger. The differ-
ences much more evident than they were in the preceding
exercises, but here, only the eye of the child recognises the
differences and controls the errors. In the preceding ex-
ercises, the errors were mechanically revealed to the child
by the didactic material itself. The impossibility of
placing the objects in order in the block in any other than
their respective spaces gives this control. Finally, while
in the preceding exercises the child makes much more
simple movements (being seated he places little objects in
order with his hands), in these new exercises he accom-
plishes movements which are decidedly more complex and
difficult and makes small muscular efforts. He does this
by moving from the table to the carpet, rises, kneels, car-
ries heavy objects.

We notice that the child continues to be confused be-
tween the two last pieces in the growing scale, being for
a long time unconscious of such an error after he has
learned to put the other pieces in correct order. Indeed

340 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

the difference between these pieces being throughout the
varying dimensions the same for all, the relative differ-
ence diminishes with the increasing size of the pieces
themselves. For example, the little cube which has a
base of 2 centimetres is double the size, as to base, of the
smallest cube which has a base of 1 centimetre, while the
largest cube having a base of 10 centimetres, differs by
barely Vw from the base of the cube next it in the series
(the one of 9 centimetres base).

Thus it would seem that, theoretically, in such exercises
we should begin with the smallest piece. We can, indeed,
do this with the material through which size and length
are taught. But we cannot do so with the cubes, which
must be arranged as a little " tower." This column of
blocks must always have as its base the largest cube.

The children, attracted above all by the tower, begin
very early to play with it. Thus we often see very little
children playing with the tower, happy in believing that
they have constructed it, when they have inadvertently
used the next to the largest cube as the base. But when
the child, repeating the exercise, corrects himself of his
own accord, in a permanent fashion, we may be certain
that his eye has become trained to perceive even the slight-
est differences between the pieces.

In the three systems of blocks through which dimensions
are taught that of length has pieces differing from each
other by 10 centimetres, while in the other two sets, the
pieces differ only 1 centimetre. Theoretically it would
seem that the long rods should he the first to attract the
attention and to exclude errors. This, however, is not the
case. The children are attracted by this set of blocks,
but they commit the greatest number of errors in using it,

SEQUENCE OF EXERCISES 341

and only after they have for a long time eliminated every
error in constructing the other two sets, do they succeed
in arranging the Long Stair perfectly. This may then
be considered as the most difficult among the series through
which dimensions are taught.

Arrived at this point in his education, the child is capa-
ble of fixing his attention, with interest, upon the thermic
and tactile stimuli.

The progression in the sense development is not, there-
fore, in actual practice identical with the theoretical
progression which psychometry indicates in the study of
its subjects. Nor does it follow the progression which
physiology and anatomy indicate in the description of the
relations of the sense organs.

In fact, the tactile sense is the primitive sense; the
organ of touch is the most simple and the most widely
diffused. But it is easy to explain how the most simple
sensations, the least complex organs, are not the first
through which to attract the attention in a didactic pres-
entation of sense stimuli.

Therefore, when the education of the attention has been
~begun, we may present to the child the rough and smooth
surfaces (following certain thermic exercises described
elsewhere in the book).

These exercises, if presented at the proper time, interest
the children immensely. It is to be remembered that
these games are of the greatest importance in the method,
because upon them, in union with the exercises for the
movement of the hand, which we introduce later, we base
the acquisition of writing.

Together with the two series of sense exercises de-
scribed above, we may begin what we call the "pairing

342 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

of the colours," that is, the recognition of the identity of
two colours. This is the first exercise of the chromatic
sense.

Here, also, it is only the eye of the child that intervenes
in the judgment, as it was with the exercises in dimen-
sion. This first colour exercise is easy, but the child must
already have acquired a certain grade of education of the
attention through preceding exercises, if he is to repeat
this one with interest.

Meanwhile, the child has heard music; has walked on
the line, while the directress played a rhythmic march.
Little by little he has learned to accompany the music
spontaneously with certain movements. This of course
necessitates the repetition of the same music. (To ac-
quire the sense of rhythm the repetition of the same exer-
cise is necessary, as in all forms of education dealing with
spontaneous activity.)

The exercises in silence are also repeated. „

Third Grade

Exercises of Practical Life. The children wash them-
selves, dress and undress themselves, dust the tables, learn
to handle various objects, etc.

Sense Exercises. We now introduce the child to the
recognition of gradations of stimuli (tactile gradations,
chromatic, etc.), allowing him to exercise himself freely.

We begin to present the stimuli for the sense of hear-
ing (sounds, noises), and also the baric stimuli (the little
tablets differing in weight).

Contemporaneously with the gradations we may present
the plane geometric insets. Here begins the education of
the movement of the hand in following the contours of the
insets, an exercise which, together with the other and con-

SEQUENCE OF EXERCISES 343

temporaneous one of the recognition of tactile stimuli in
gradation, prepares for writing.

The series of cards bearing the geometric forms, we
give after the child recognises perfectly the same forms
in the wooden insets. These cards serve to prepare for
the abstract signs of which writing consists. The child
learns to recognise a delineated form, and after all the
preceding exercises have formed within him an ordered
and intelligent personality, they may be considered the
bridge by which he passes from the sense exercises to
writing, from the preparation, to the actual entrance into
instruction.

Fourth Grade

Exercises of Practical Life. The children set and clear
the table for luncheon. They learn to put a room in
order. They are now taught the most minute care of their
persons in the making of the toilet. (How to brush their
teeth, to clean their nails, etc.)

They have learned, through the rhythmic exercises on
the line, to walk with perfect freedom and balance.

They know how to control and direct their own move-
ments (how to make the silence, — how to move various
objects without dropping or breaking them and without
making a noise).

Sense Exercises. In this stage we repeat all the sense
exercises. In addition we introduce the recognition of
musical notes by the help of the series of duplicate bells.

Exercises Related to Writing. Design. The child
passes to the plane geometric insets in metal. He has al-
ready co-ordinated the movements necessary to follow the
contours. Here he no longer follows them with his finger,
but with a pencil, leaving the double sign upon a sheet of

344 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

paper. Then he fills in the figures with coloured pencils,
holding the pencil as he will later hold the pen in writing.

Contemporaneously the child is taught to recognise and
touch some of the letters of the alphabet made in sand-
paper.

Exercises in Arithmetic. At this point, repeating the
sense exercises, we present the Long Stair with a different
aim from that with which it has been used up to the pres-
ent time. We have the child count the different pieces,
according to the blue and red sections, beginning with the
rod consisting of one section and continuing through that
composed of ten sections. We continue such exercises and
give other more complicated ones.

In Design we pass from the outlines of the geometric
insets to such outlined figures as the practice of four years
has established and which will be published as models in
design.

These have an educational importance, and represent in
their content and in their gradations one of the most care-
fully studied details of the method.

They serve as a means for the continuation of the sense
education and help the child to observe his surroundings.
They thus add to his intellectual refinement, and, as re-
gards writing, they prepare for the high and low strokes.
After such practice it will be easy for the child to make
high or low letters,, and this will do away with the ruled
note-books such as are used in Italy in the various ele-
mentary classes.

In the acquiring of the use of written language we go
as far as the knowledge of the letters of the alphabet, and
of composition with the movable alphabet.

In Arithmetic, as far as a knowledge of the figures.
The child places the corresponding figures beside the

SEQUENCE OF EXERCISES 345

number of blue and red sections on each rod of the Long
Stair.

The children now take the exercise with the wooden
pegs.

Also the games which consist in placing under the
figures, on the table, a corresponding number of coloured
counters. These are arranged in columns of twos, thus
making the question of odd and even numbers clear.
(This arrangement is taken from Seguin.)

Fifth Grade

We continue i\Q preceding exercises. We begin more
complicated rhythmic exercises.

In design we begin:

(a) The use of water colours.

(&) Free drawing from nature (flowers, etc.).

Composition of words and phrases with the movable
alphabet.

(a) Spontaneous writing of words and phrases.

(ft) Reading from slips prepared by the directress.

We continue the arithmetical operations which we be-
gan with the Long Stair.

The children at this stage present most interesting dif-
ferences of development. They fairly run toward instruc-
tion, and order their intellectual growth in a way that is
remarkable.

This joyous growth is what we so rejoice in, as we watch
in these children, humanity, growing in the spirit accord-
ing to its own deep laws. And only he who experiments
can say how great may be the harvest from the sowing of
such seed.

CHAPTEK XXI

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE

THE accumulated experience we have had since the
publication of the Italian version has repeatedly proved
to us that in our classes of little children, numbering forty
and even fifty, the discipline is much better than in ordi-
nary schools. For this reason I have' thought that an
analysis of the discipline obtained by our method — which
is based upon liberty, — would interest my American read-
ers.

Whoever visits a well kept school (such as, for instance,
the one in Rome directed by my pupil Anna Maccheroni)
is struck by the discipline of the children. There are
forty little beings — from three to seven years old, each
one intent on his own work; one is going through one of
the exercises for the senses, one is doing an arithmetical
exercise; one is handling the letters, one is drawing, one
is fastening and unfastening the pieces of cloth on one of
our little wooden frames, still another is dusting. Some
are seated at the tables, some on rugs on the floor. There
are muffled sounds of objects lightly moved about, of chil-
dren tiptoeing. Once in a while comes a cry of joy only
partly repressed, " Teacher ! Teacher ! " an eager call,
" Look ! see what I've done." But as a rule, there is en-
tire absorption in the work in hand.

The teacher moves quietly about, goes to any child who
calls her, supervising operations in such a way that any-

346

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 347

one who needs her finds her at his elbow, and whoever
does not need her is not reminded of her existence. Some-
times, hours go by without a word. They seem " little
men," as they were called by some visitors to the " Chil-
dren's House " ; or, as another suggested, " judges in de-
liberation."

In the midst of such intense interest in work it never
happens that quarrels arise over the possession of an ob-
ject. If one accomplishes something especially fine, his
achievement is a source of admiration and joy to others:
no heart suffers from another's wealth, but the triumph
of one is a delight to all. Very often he finds ready
imitators. They all seem happy and satisfied to do what
they can, without feeling jealous of the deeds of others.
The little fellow of three works peaceably beside the boy
of seven, just as he is satisfied with his own height and
does not envy the older boy's stature. Everything is
growing in the most profound peace.

If the teacher wishes the whole assembly to do some-
thing, for instance, leave the work which interests them
so much, all she needs to do is to speak a word in a low
tone, or make a gesture, and they are all attention, they
look toward her with eagerness, anxious to know how to
obey. Many visitors have seen the teacher write orders
on the blackboard, which were obeyed joyously by the chil-
dren. Not only the teachers, but anyone who asks the
pupils to do something is astonished to see them obey in the
minutest detail and with obliging cheerfulness. Often a
visitor wishes to hear how a child, now painting, can sing.
The child leaves his painting to be obliging, but the in-
stant his courteous action is completed, he returns to his
interrupted work. Sometimes the smaller children finish
their work before they obey.

348 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

A very surprising result of this discipline came to our
notice during the examinations of the teachers who had
followed my course of lectures. These examinations were
practical, and, accordingly, groups of children were put
at the disposition of the teachers being examined, who,
according to the subject drawn by lot, took the children
through a given exercise. While the children were wait-
ing their turn, they were allowed to do just as they
pleased. They worked incessantly, and returned to their
undertakings as soon as the interruption caused by the
examination was over. Every once in a while, one of
them came to show us a drawing made during the interval.
Miss George of Chicago was present many times when
this happened, and Madame Pujols, who founded the first
" Children's House " in Paris, was astonished at the pa-
tience, the perseverance, and the inexhaustible amiability
of the children.

One might think that such children had been severely
repressed were it not for their lack of timidity, for their
bright eyes, for their happy, free aspect, for the cordiality
of their invitations to look at their work, for the way in
which they take visitors about and explain matters to
them. These things make us feel that we are in the pres-
ence of the masters of the house; and the fervour with
which they throw their arms around the teacher's knees,
with which they pull her down to kiss her face, shows that
their little hearts are free to expand as they will.

Anyone who has watched them setting the table must
have passed from one surprise to another. Little four-
year-old waiters take the knives and forks and spoons and
distribute them to the different places; they carry trays
holding as many as five water-glasses, and finally they go
from, table to table, carrying big tureens full of hot soup.

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 349

Not a mistake is made, not a glass is broken, not a drop of
soup is spilled. All during the meal unobtrusive little
waiters watch the table assiduously; not a child empties
his soup-plate without being offered more; if he is ready
for the next course a waiter briskly carries off his soup-
plate. Not a child is forced to ask for more soup, or to
announce that he has finished.

Remembering the usual condition of four-year-old
children, who cry, who break whatever they touch, who
need to be waited on, everyone is deeply moved by the sight
I have just described, which evidently results from the
development of energies latent in the depths of the human
soul. I have often seen the spectators at this banquet of
little ones, moved to tears.

But such discipline could never be obtained by com-
mands, by sermonizings, in short, through any of the
disciplinary devices universally known. Not only were
the actions of those children set in an orderly condition,
but their very lives were deepened and enlarged. In fact,
such discipline is on the same plane with school-exercises
extraordinary for the age of the children ; and it certainly
does not depend upon the teacher but upon a sort of mir-
acle, occurring in the inner life of each child.

If we try to think of parallels in the life of adults, we
are reminded of the phenomenon of conversion, of the
superhuman heightening of the strength of martyrs and
apostles, of the constancy of missionaries, of the obedience
of monks. Nothing else in the world, except such things,
is on a spiritual height equal to the discipline of the " Chil-
dren's Houses."

To obtain such discipline it is quite useless to count on
reprimands or spoken exhortations. Such means might
perhaps at the beginning have an appearance of efficacy :

350 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

but very soon, the instant that real discipline appears, all
of this falls miserably to the earth, an illusion confronted
with reality — " night gives way to day."

The first dawning of real discipline comes through
work. At a given moment it happens that a child becomes
keenly interested in a piece of work, showing it by the ex-
pression of his face, by his intense attention, by his per-
severance in the same exercise. That child has set foot
upon the road leading to discipline. Whatever be his
undertaking — an exercise for the senses, an exercise in
buttoning up or lacing together, or washing dishes — it is
all one and the same.

On our side, we can have some influence upon the per-
manence of this phenomenon, by means of repeated " Les-
sons of Silence." The perfect immobility, the attention
alert to catch the cound of the names whispered from a
distance, then the carefully co-ordinated movements ex-
ecuted so as not to strike against chair or table, so as barely
to touch the floor with the feet — all this is a most effi-
cacious preparation for the task of setting in order the1
whole personality, the motor forces and the psychical.

Once the habit of work is formed, we must supervise it
with scrupulous accuracy, graduating the exercises as
experience has taught us. In our effort to establish disci-
pline, we must rigorously apply the principles of the
method. It is not to be obtained by words ; no man learns
self-discipline " through hearing another man speak."
The phenomenon of discipline needs as preparation a series
of complete actions, such as are presupposed in the gen-
uine application of a really educative method. Discipline
is reached always by indirect means. The end is ob-
tained, not by attacking the mistake and fighting it, but
by developing activity in spontaneous work.

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 351

This work cannot be arbitrarily offered, and it is pre-
cisely here that our method enters ; it must be work which
the human being instinctively desires to do, work towards
which the latent tendencies of life naturally turn, or to-
wards which the individual step by step ascends.

Such is the work which sets the personality in order
and opens wide before it infinite possibilities of growth.
Take, for instance, the lack of control shown by a baby;
it is fundamentally a lack of muscular discipline. The
child is in a constant state of disorderly movement: he
throws himself down, he makes queer gestures, he cries.
What underlies all this is a latent tendency to seek that
co-ordination of movement which will be established later.
The baby is a man not yet sure of the movements of the
various muscles of the body ; not yet master of the organs
of speech. He will eventually establish these various
movements, but for the present he is abandoned to a period
of experimentation full of mistakes, and of fatiguing ef-
forts towards a desirable end latent in his instinct, but not
clear in his consciousness. To say to the baby, " Stand
still as I do," brings no light into his darkness; com-
mands cannot aid in the process of bringing order into the
complex psycho-muscular system of an individual in
process of evolution. We are confused at this point by
the example of the adult who through a wicked impulse
prefers disorder, and who may (granted that he can) obey
a sharp admonishment which turns his will in another
direction, towards that order which he recognises and
which it is within his capacity to achieve. In the case of
the little child it is a question of aiding the natural evolu-
tion of voluntary action. Hence it is necessary to teach
all the co-ordinated movements, analysing them as much
as possible and developing them bit by bit.

352 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

Thus, for instance, it is necessary to teach the child the
various degrees of immobility leading to silence; the
movements connected with rising from a chair and sitting
down, with walking, with tiptoeing, with following a line
drawn on the floor keeping an upright equilibrium. The
child is taught to move objects about, to set them down
more or less carefully, and finally the complex movements
connected with dressing and undressing himself (analysed
on the lacing and buttoning frames at school), and for
even each of these exercises, the different parts of the
movement must be analysed. Perfect immobility and the
successive perfectioning of action, is what takes the place
of the customary command, " Be quiet ! Be still ! " It
is not astonishing but very natural that the child by means
of such exercises should acquire self-discipline, so far
as regards the lack of muscular discipline natural to his
age. In short, he responds to nature because he is in
action; but these actions being directed towards an end,
have no longer the appearance of disorder but of work.
This is discipline which represents an end to be attained
by means of a number of conquests. The child disci-
plined in this way, is no longer the child he was at first,
who knows how to be good passively; but he is an indi-
vidual who has made, himself better, who has overcome
the usual limits of his age, who has made a great step
forward, who has conquered his future in his present.

He has therefore enlarged his dominion. He will not
need to have someone always at hand, to tell him vainly
(confusing two opposing conceptions), "Be quiet! Be
good ! " The goodness he has conquered cannot be
summed up by inertia: his goodness is now all made up
of action. As a matter of fact, good people are those who
advance towards the good — that good which is made up

GEKEKAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 353

of their own self-development and of external acts of
order and usefulness.

In our efforts with the child, external acts are the means
which stimulate internal development, and they again
appear as its manifestation, the two elements being inex-
tricably intertwined. Work develops the child spirit-
ually; but the child with a fuller spiritual development
works better, and his improved work delights him, —
hence he continues to develop spiritually. Discipline is,
therefore, not a fact but a path, a path in following which
the child grasps the abstract conception of goodness with
an exactitude which is fairly scientific.

But beyond everything else he savours the supreme
delights of that spiritual order which is attained indi-
rectly through conquests directed towards determinate
ends. In that long preparation, the child experiences
joys, spiritual awakenings and pleasures which form his
inner treasure-house — the treasure-house in which he is
steadily storing up the sweetness and strength which will
be the sources of righteousness.

In short, the child has not only learned to move about
and to perform useful acts ; he has acquired a special grace
of action which makes his gestures more correct and at-
tractive, and which beautifies his hands and indeed his
entire body now so balanced and so sure of itself; a grace
which refines the expression of his face and of his serenely
brilliant eyes, and which shows us that the flame of spirit-
ual life has been lighted in another human being.

It is obviously true that co-ordinated actions, developed
spontaneously little by little (that is, chosen and carried
out in the exercises by the child himself), must call for
less effort than the disorderly actions performed by the

354 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

child who is left to his own devices. True rest for mus-
cles, intended by nature for action, is in orderly action;
just as true rest for the lungs is the normal rhythm of
respiration taken in pure air. To. take action away from
the muscles is to force them away from their natural motor
impulse, and hence, besides tiring them, means forcing
them into a state of degeneration ; just as the lungs forced
into immobility, would die instantly and the whole or-
ganism with them.

It is therefore necessary to keep clearly in mind the
fact that rest for whatever naturally acts, lies in some
specified form of action, corresponding to its nature.

To act in obedience to the hidden precepts of nature —
that is rest; and in this special case, since man is meant
to be an intelligent creature, the more intelligent his acts
are the more he finds repose in them. When a child acts
only in a disorderly, disconnected manner, his nervous
force is under a great strain; while on the other hand his
nervous energy is positively increased and multiplied by
intelligent actions which give him real satisfaction, and
a feeling of pride that he has overcome himself, that he
finds himself in a world beyond the frontiers formerly set
up as insurmountable, surrounded by the silent respect of
the one who has guided him without making his presence
felt.

This " multiplication of nervous energy " represents a
process which can be physiologically analysed, and which
comes from the development of the organs by rational ex-
ercise, from better circulation of the blood, from the
quickened activity of all the tissues — all factors
favourable to the development of the body and guaran-
teeing physical health. The spirit aids the body in its
growth ; the heart, the nerves and the muscles are helpful

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 355

in their evolution by the activity of the spirit, since the
upward path for soul and body is one and the same.

By analogy, it can be said of the intellectual develop-
ment of the child, that the mind of infancy, although
characteristically disorderly, is also " a means searching
for its end/' which goes through exhausting experiments,
left, as it frequently is, to its own resources, and too often
really persecuted. Once in our public park in Rome, the
Pincian Gardens, I saw a baby of about a year and a half,
a beautiful smiling child, who was working away trying
to fill a little pail by shoveling gravel into it. Beside him
was a smartly dressed nurse evidently very fond of him,
the sort of nurse who would consider that she gave the
child the most affectionate and intelligent care. It was
time to go home and the nurse was patiently exhorting the
baby to leave his work and let her put him into the baby-
carriage. Seeing that her exhortations made no impres-
sion on the little fellow's firmness, she herself filled the
pail with gravel and set pail and baby into the carriage
with the fixed conviction that she had given him what he
wanted.

I was struck by the loud cries of the child and by the
expression of protest against violence and injustice which
wrote itself on his little face. What an accumulation of
wrongs weighed down that nascent intelligence! The
little boy did not wish to have the pail full of gravel ; he
wished to go through the motions necessary to fill it, thus
satisfying a need of his vigorous organism. The child's
unconscious aim was his own self-development; not the
external fact of a pail full of little stones. The vivid at-
tractions of the external world were only empty appari-
tions ; the need of his life was a reality. As a matter of
fact, if he had filled his pail he would probably have

356 THE MONTESSOBI METHOD

emptied it out again in order to keep on filling it up until
his inner self was satisfied. It was the feeling of work-
ing towards this satisfaction which, a few moments before,
had made his face so rosy and smiling; spiritual joy, ex-
ercise, and sunshine, were the three rays of light minister-
ing to his splendid life.

This commonplace episode in the life of that child, is
a detail of what happens to all children, even the best and
most cherished. They are not understood, because the
adult judges them by his own measure : he thinks that the
child's wish is to obtain some tangible object, and lovingly
helps him to do this: whereas the child as a rule has for
his unconscious desire, his own self-development. Hence
he despises everything already attained, and yearns for
that which is still to be sought for. For instance, he pre-
fers the action of dressing himself to the state of being
dressed, even finely dressed. He prefers the act of wash-
ing himself to the satisfaction of being clean: he prefers
to make a little house for himself, rather than merely to
own it. His own self-development is his true and almost
his only pleasure. The self-development of the little baby
up to the end of his first year consists to a large degree in
taking in nutrition; but afterwards it consists in aiding
the orderly establishment of the psycho-physiological func-
tions of his organism.

That beautiful baby in the Pincian Gardens is the sym-
bol of this : he wished to co-ordinate his voluntary actions ;
to exercise his muscles by lifting; to train his eye to es-
timate distances; to exercise his intelligence in the rea-
soning connected with his undertaking; to stimulate his
will-power by deciding his own actions; whilst she who
loved him, believing that his aim was to possess some
pebbles, made him wretched.

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 357

A similar error is that which we repeat so frequently
when we fancy that the desire of the student is to possess
a piece of information. We aid him to grasp intellect-
ually this detached piece of knowledge, and, preventing
by this means his self -development, we make him wretched.
It is generally believed in schools that the way to attain
satisfaction is " to learn something." But by leaving the
children in our schools in liberty we have been able with
great clearness to follow them in their natural method of
spontaneous self-development.

To have learned something is for the child only a
point of departure. When he has learned the meaning of
an exercise, then he begins to enjoy repeating it, and he
does repeat it an infinite number of times, with the most
evident satisfaction. He enjoys executing that act be-
cause by means of it he is developing his psychic activi-
ties.

There results from the observation of this fact a crit-
icism of what is done to-day in many schools. Often, for
instance when the pupils are questioned, the teacher says
to someone who is eager to answer, " No, not you, because
you know it " and puts her question specially to the pupils
who she thinks are uncertain of the answer. Those who
do not know are made to speak, those who do know to be
silent. This happens because of the general habit of con-
sidering the act of knowing something as final.

And yet how many times it happens to us in ordinary
life to repeat the very thing we know best, the thing we
care most for, the thing to which some living force in us
responds. We love to sing musical phrases very familiar,
hence enjoyed and become a part of the fabric of our
lives. We love to repeat stories of things which please
us, which we know very well, even though we are quite

358 .THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

aware that we are saying nothing new. No matter how
many times we repeat the Lord's Prayer, it is always new.
No two persons could be more convinced of mutual love
than sweethearts and yet they are the very ones who re-
peat endlessly that they love each other.

But in order to repeat in this manner, there must first
exist the idea to he repeated. A mental grasp of the idea,
is indispensable to the beginning of repetition. The ex-
ercise which develops life, consists in the repetition, not
in the mere grasp of the idea. When a child has attained
this stage, of repeating an exercise, he is on the way to
self-development, and the external sign of this condition is
his self-discipline.

This phenomenon does not always occur. The same
exercises are not repeated by children of all ages. In
fact, repetition corresponds to a need. Here steps in the
experimental method of education. It is necessary to
offer those exercises which correspond to the need of de-
velopment felt by an organism, and if the child's age has
carried him past a certain need, it is never possible to
obtain, in its fulness, a development which missed its
proper moment. Hence children grow up, often fatally
and irrevocably, imperfectly developed.

Another very interesting observation is that which re-
lates to the length of time needed for the execution of
actions. Children, who are undertaking something for
the first time are extremely slow. Their life is governed
in this respect by laws especially different from ours.
Little children accomplish slowly and perseveringly, va-
rious complicated operations agreeable to them, such as
dressing, undressing, cleaning the room, washing them-
selves, setting the table, eating, etc. In all this they
are extremely patient, overcoming all the difficulties pre-

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 359

sented by an organism still in process of formation. But
we, on the other hand, noticing that they are " tiring
themselves out " or " wasting time " in accomplishing
something which we would do in a moment and without
the least effort, put ourselves in the child's place and do
it ourselves. Always with the same erroneous idea, that
the end to be obtained is the completion of the action, we
dress and wash the child, we snatch out of his hands ob-
jects which he loves to handle, we pour the soup into his
bowl, we feed him, we set the table for him. And after
such services, we consider him with that injustice always
practised by those who domineer over others even with
benevolent intentions, to be incapable and inept. We often
speak of him as " impatient " simply because we are not
patient enough to allow his actions to follow laws of time
differing from our own ; we call him " tyrannical " ex-
actly because we employ tyranny towards him. This
stain, this false imputation, this calumny on childhood has
become an integral part of the theories concerning child-
hood, in reality so patient and gentle.

The child, like every strong creature fighting for the
right to live, rebels against whatever offends that occult
impulse within him which is the voice of nature, and
which he ought to obey; and he shows by violent actions,
by screaming and weeping that he has been overborne and
forced away from his mission in life. He shows himself
to be a rebel, a revolutionist, an iconoclast, against those
who do not understand him and who, fancying that they
are helping him, are really pushing him backward in the
highway of life. Thus even the adult who loves him,
rivets about his neck another calumny, confusing his de-
fence of his molested life with a form of innate naughti-
ness characteristic of little children.

360 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

What would become of us if we fell into the midst of a
population of jugglers, or of lightning-change imperson-
ators of the variety-hall ? What should we do if, as we
continued to act in our usual way, we saw ourselves as-
sailed by these sleight-of-hand performers, hustled into
our clothes, fed so rapidly that we could scarcely swallow,
if everything we tried to do was snatched from our hands
and completed in a twinkling and we ourselves reduced
to impotence and to a humiliating inertia ? Not knowing
how else to express our confusion we would defend our-
selves with blows and yells from these madmen, and they
having only the best will in the world to serve us, would
call us haughty, rebellious, and incapable of doing any-
thing. We, who know our own milieu, would say to those
people, " Come into our countries and you will see the
splendid civilisation we have established, you will see our
wonderful achievements." These jugglers would admire
us infinitely, hardly able to believe their eyes, as they ob-
served our world, so full of beauty and activity, so well
regulated, so peaceful, so kindly, but all so much slower
than theirs.

Something of this sort occurs between children and
adults.

It is exactly in the repetition of the exercises that the
education of the senses consists; their aim is not that the
child shall know colours, forms and the different quali-
ties of objects, but that he refine his senses through an
exercise of attention, of comparison, of judgment. These
exercises are true intellectual gymnastics. Such gym-
nastics, reasonably directed by means of various devices,
aid in the formation of the intellect, just as physical ex-
ercises fortify the general health and quicken the growth

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 361

of the body. The child who trains his various senses
separately, by means of external stimuli, concentrates his
attention and develops, piece by piece, his mental activ-
ities, just as with separately prepared movements he
trains his muscular activities. These mental gymnastics
are not merely psycho-sensory, but they prepare the way
for spontaneous association of ideas, for ratiocination de-
veloping out of definite knowledge, for a harmoniously
balanced intellect. They are the powder-trains that
bring about those mental explosions which delight the
child so intensely when he makes discoveries in the world
about him, when he, at the same time, ponders over and
glories in the new things which are revealed to him in the
outside world, and in the exquisite emotions of his own
growing consciousness; and finally when there spring up
within him, almost by a process of spontaneous ripening,
like the internal phenomena of growth, the external prod-
ucts of learning — writing and reading.

I happened once to see a two-year-old child, son of a
medical colleague of mine, who, fairly fleeing away from
his mother who had brought him to me, threw himself on
the litter of things covering his father's desk, the rectan-
gular writing-pad, the round cover of the ink-well. I was
touched to see the intelligent little creature trying his
best to go through the exercises which our children repeat
with such endless pleasure till they have fully committed
them to memory. The father and the mother pulled the
child away, reproving him, and explaining that there was
no use trying to keep that child from handling his father's
desk-furniture, " The child is restless and naughty."
How often we see all children reproved because, though
they are told not to, they will " take hold of everything."
Now, it is precisely by means of guiding and developing

362 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

this natural instinct " to take hold of everything/' and
to recognise the relations of geometrical figures, that we
prepare our little four-year-old men for the joy and tri-
umph they experience later over the phenomenon of spon-
taneous writing.

The child who throws himself on the writing-pad, the
cover to the ink-well, and such objects, always struggling
in vain to attain his desire, always hindered and thwarted
by people stronger than he, always excited and weeping
over the failure of his desperate efforts, is wasting nerv-
ous force. His parents are mistaken if they think that
such a child ever gets any real rest, just as they are mis-
taken when they call " naughty " the little man longing
for the foundations of his intellectual edifice. The chil-
dren in our schools are the ones who are really at rest,
ardently and blessedly free to take out and put back in
their right places or grooves, the geometric figures offered
to their instinct for higher self-development; and they,
rejoicing in the most entire spiritual calm, have no notion
that their eyes and hands are initiating them into the
mysteries of a new language.

The majority of our children become calm as they go
through such exercises, because their nervous system is at
rest. Then we say that such children are quiet and good ;
external discipline, so eagerly sought after in ordinary
schools is more than achieved.

However, as a calm man and a self-disciplined man are
not one and the same, so here the fact which manifests
itself externally by the calm of the children is in reality
a phenomenon merely physical and partial compared to
the real self-discipline which is being developed in them.

Often (and this is another misconception) we think all
we need to do, to obtain a voluntary action from a child,

GEKEBAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 363

is to order him to do it. We pretend that this phenom-
enon of a forced voluntary action exists, and we call this
pretext, " the obedience of the child." We find little
children specially disobedient, or rather their resistance,
by the time they are four or five years old, has become so
great that we are in despair and are almost tempted to
give up trying to make them obey. We force ourselves to
praise to little children " the virtue of obedience " a vir-
tue which, according to our accepted prejudices, should
belong specially to infancy, should be the " infantile vir-
tue " yet we fail to learn anything from the fact that we
are led to emphasize it so strongly because we can only
with the greatest difficulty make children practise it.

It is a very common mistake, this of trying to obtain
by means of prayers, or orders, or violence, what is diffi-
cult, or impossible to get. Thus, for instance, we ask
little children to be obedient, and little children in their
turn ask for the moon.

We need only reflect that this " obedience " which we
treat so lightly, occurs later, as a natural tendency in older
children, and then as an instinct in the adult to realise
that it springs spontaneously into being, and that it is
one of the strongest instincts of humanity. We find that
society rests on a foundation of marvellous obedience, and
that civilisation goes forward on a road made by obedience.
Human organisations are often founded on an abuse of
obedience, associations of criminals have obedience as
their key-stone.

How many times social problems centre about the ne-
cessity of rousing man from a state of " obedience " which
has led him to be exploited and brutalised !

Obedience naturally is sacrifice. We are so accus-
tomed to an infinity of obedience in the world, to a condi-

364 THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

tion of self-sacrifice, to a readiness for renunciation, that
we call matrimony the " blessed condition/7 although it is
made up of obedience and self-sacrifice. The soldier,
whose lot in life is to obey if it kills him is envied by the
common people, while we consider anyone who tries to
escape from obedience as a malefactor or a madman.
Besides, how many people have had the deeply spiritual
experience of an ardent desire to obey something or some
person leading them along the path of life — more than
this, a desire to sacrifice something for the sake of this
obedience.

It is therefore entirely natural that, loving the child,
we should point out to him that obedience is the law of
life, and there is nothing surprising in the anxiety felt by
nearly everyone who is confronted with the characteristic
disobedience of little children. But obedience can only
be reached through a complex formation of the psychic
personality. To obey, it is necessary not only to wish to
obey, but also to know how to. Since, when a command to
do a certain thing is given, we presuppose a corresponding
active or inhibitive power of the child, it is plain that
obedience must follow the formation of the will and of the
mind. To prepare, in detail, this formation by means of
detached exercises is therefore indirectly, to urge the child
towards obedience. The method which is the subject of
this book contains in every part an exercise for the will-
power, when the child completes co-ordinated actions di-
rected towards a given end, when he achieves something
he set out to do, when he repeats patiently his exercises,
he is training his positive will-power. Similarly, in a
very complicated series of exercises he is establishing
through activity his powers of inhibition; for instance
in the " lesson of silence," which calls for a long con-

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 365

tinued inhibition of many actions, while the child is wait-
ing to be called and later for a rigorous self-control when
he is called and would like to answer joyously and run
to his teacher, but instead is perfectly silent, moves very
carefully, taking the greatest pains not to knock against
chair or table or to make a noise.

Other inhibitive exercises are the arithmetical ones,
when the child having drawn a number by lot, must take
from the great mass of objects before him, apparently
entirely at his disposition, only the quantity corresponding
to the number in his hand, whereas (as experience has
proved) he would like to take the greatest number possi-
ble. Furthermore if he chances to draw the zero he sits
patiently with empty hands. Still another training for
the inhibitive will-power is in " the lesson of zero " when
the child, called upon to come up zero times and give zero
kisses, stands quiet, conquering with a visible effort the
instinct which would lead him to " obey " the call. The
child at our school dinners who carries the big tureen full
of hot soup, isolates himself from every external stimu-
lant which might disturb him, resists his childish impulse
to run and jump, does not yield to the temptation to brush
away the fly on his face, and is entirely concentrated on
the great responsibility of not dropping or tipping the
tureen. A little thing of four and a half, every time he
set the tureen down on a table so that the little guests
might help themselves, gave a hop and a skip, then took
up the tureen again to carry it to another table, repressing
himself to a sober walk. In spite of his desire to play he
never left his task before he had passed soup to the twenty
tables, and he never forgot the vigilance necessary to con-
trol his actions.

Will-power, like all other activities is invigorated and

366 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

developed through methodical exercises, and all our exer-
cises for will-power are also mental and practical. To the
casual onlooker the child seems to be learning exactitude
and grace of action, to be refining his senses, to be learn-
ing how to read and write; but much more profoundly he
is learning how to become his own master, how to be a man
of prompt and resolute will.

We often hear it said that a child's will should be
" broken " that the best education for the will of the
child is to learn to give it up to the will of adults. Leav-
ing out of the question the injustice which is at the root of
every act of tyranny, this idea is irrational because the
child cannot give up what he does not possess. We pre-
vent him in this way from forming his own will-power,
and we commit the greatest and most blameworthy mis-
take. He never has time or opportunity to test himself,
to estimate his own force and his own limitations because
he is always interrupted and subjected to our tyranny,
and languishes in injustice because he is always being
bitterly reproached for not having what adults are per-
petually destroying.

There springs up as a consequence of this, childish
timidity, which is a moral malady acquired by a will
which could not develop, and which with the usual cal-
umny with which the tyrant consciously or not, covers up
his own mistakes, we consider as an inherent trait of
childhood. The children in our schools are never timid.
One of their most fascinating qualities is the frankness
with which they treat people, with which they go on work-
ing in the presence of others, and showing their work
frankly, calling for sympathy. That moral monstrosity,
a repressed and timid child, who is at his ease nowhere ex-
cept alone with his playmates, or with street urchins,

GENERAL REVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 367

because his will-power was allowed to grow only in the
shade, disappears in our schools. He presents an exam-
ple of thoughtless barbarism, which resembles the artificial
compression of the bodies of those children intended for
" court dwarfs," museum monstrosities or buffoons. Yet
this is the treatment under which nearly all the children
of our time are growing up spiritually.

As a matter of fact in all the pedagogical congresses
one hears that the great peril of our time is the lack of
individual character in the scholars; yet these alarmists
do not point out that this condition is due to the way in
which education is managed, to scholastic slavery, which
has for its specialty the repression of will-power and of
force of character. The remedy is simply to enfranchise
human development.

Besides the exercises it offers for developing will-power,
the other factor in obedience is the capacity to perform
the act it becomes necessary to obey. One of the most in-
teresting observations made by my pupil Anna Macche-
roni (at first in the school in Milan and then in that in
the Via Guisti in Rome), relates to the connection between
obedience in a child and his " knowing how." Obedi-
ence appears in the child as a latent instinct as soon as
his personality begins to take form. Eor instance, a child
begins to try a certain exercise and suddenly some time
he goes through it perfectly; he is delighted, stares at it,
and wishes to do it over again, but for some time the ex-
ercise is not a success. Then comes a time when he can
do it nearly every time he tries voluntarily but makes
mistakes if someone else asks him to do it. The external
command does not as yet produce the voluntary act.
When, however, the exercise always succeeds, with abso-
lute certainty, then an order from someone else "brings

368 THE MONTESSOfil METHOD

about on the child's part, orderly adequate action ; that is,
the child is able each time to execute the command re-
ceived. That these facts (with variations in individual
cases) are laws of psychical development is apparent from
everyone's experience with children in school or at home.

One often hears a child say, " I did do such and such a
thing but now I can't ! " and a teacher disappointed by
the incompetence of a pupil will say, " Yet that child was
doing it all right — and now he can't ! "

Finally there is the period of complete development in
which the capacity to perform some operation is perma-
nently acquired. There are, therefore, three periods: a
first, subconscious one, when in the confused mind of the
child, order produces itself by a mysterious inner impulse
from out the midst of disorder, producing as an external
result a completed act, which, however, being outside the
field of consciousness, cannot be reproduced at will; a
second, conscious period, when there is some action on
the part of the will which is present during the process of
the development and establishing of the acts; and a third
period when the will can direct and cause the acts, thus
answering the command from someone else.

Now, obedience follows a similar sequence. When in
the first period of spiritual disorder, the child does not
obey it is exactly as if he were psychically deaf, and out
of hearing of commands. In the second period he would
like to obey, he looks as though he understood the com-
mand and would like to respond to it, but cannot, — or at
least does not always succeed in doing it, is not " quick
to mind " and shows no pleasure when he does. In the
third period he obeys at once, with enthusiasm, and as he
becomes more and more perfect in the exercises he is

GENERAL EEVIEW OF DISCIPLINE 369

proud that he knows how to obey. This is the period in
which he runs joyously to obey, and leaves at the most im-
perceptible request whatever is interesting him so that
he may quit the solitude of his own life and enter, with
the act of obedience into the spiritual existence of an-
other.

To this order, established in a consciousness formerly
chaotic, are due all the phenomena of discipline and of
mental development, which open out like a new Creation.
From minds thus set in order, when " night is separated
from day " come sudden emotions and mental feats which
recall the Biblical story of Creation. The child has in
his mind not only what he has laboriously acquired, but
the free gifts which flow from spiritual life, the first flow-
ers of affection, of gentleness, of spontaneous love for
righteousness which perfume the souls of such children
and give promise of the " fruits of the spirit " of St. Paul
— " The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffer-
ing gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness."

They are virtuous because they exercise patience in
repeating their exercises, long-suffering in yielding to the
commands and desires of others, good in rejoicing in the
well-being of others without jealousy or rivalry; they live,
doing good in joyousness of heart and in peace, and they
are eminently, marvellously industrious. But they are
not proud of such righteousness because they were not
conscious of acquiring it as a moral superiority. They
have set their feet in the path leading to righteousness,
simply because it was the only way to attain true self-
development and learning; and they enjoy with simple
hearts the fruits of peace that are to be gathered along
that path.

3YO THE MONTESSOKI METHOD

These are the first outlines of an experiment which
shows a form of indirect discipline in which there is sub-
stituted for the critical and sermonizing teacher a rational
organisation of work and of liberty for the child. It
involves a conception of life more usual in religious fields
than in those of academic pedagogy, inasmuch as it has
recourse to the spiritual energies of mankind, but it is
founded on work and on liberty which are the two paths to
all civic progress.

CHAPTER XXII

CONCLUSIONS AND IMPRESSIONS

IN the " Children's Houses," the old-time teacher, who
wore herself out maintaining discipline of immobility, and
who wasted her breath in loud and continual discourse,
has disappeared.

For this teacher we have substituted the didactic ma-
terial, which contains within itself the control of errors
and which makes auto-education possible to each child.
The teacher has thus become a director of the spontaneous
work of the children. She is not a passive force, a silent
presence.

The children are occupied each one in a different way,
and the directress, watching them, can make psycholog-
ical observations which, if collected in an orderly way and
according to scientific standards, should do much toward
the reconstruction of child psychology and the develop-
ment of experimental psychology. I believe that I have
by my method established the conditions necessary to the
development of scientific pedagogy; and whoever adopts
this method opens, in doing so, a laboratory of experi-
mental pedagogy.

From such work, we must await the positive solution of
all those pedagogical problems of which we talk to-day.
For through such work there has already come the solu-
tion of some of these very questions: that of the liberty
of the pupils ; auto-education; the establishment of har-

371

372 THE MONTESSORI METHOD

mony between the work and activities of home life and
school tasks, making both work together for the education
of the child.

The problem of religious education, the importance of
which we do not fully realise, should also be solved by
positive pedagogy. If religion is born with civilisation,
its roots must lie deep in human nature. We have had
most beautiful proof of an instinctive love of knowledge
in the child, who has too often been misjudged in that he
has been considered addicted to meaningless play, and
games void of thought. The child who left the game in
his eagerness for knowledge, has revealed himself as a
true son of that humanity which has been throughout
centuries the creator of scientific and civil progress. We
have belittled the son of man by giving him foolish and
degrading toys, a world of idleness where he is suffocated
by a badly conceived discipline. Now, in his liberty, the
child should show us, as well, whether man is by nature aj
religious creature.

To deny, a priori, the religious sentiment in man, and
to deprive humanity of the education of this sentiment, is
to commit a pedagogical error similar to that of denying,
a priori, to the child, the love of learning for learning's
sake. This ignorant assumption led us to dominate the
scholar, to subject him to a species of slavery, in order
to render him apparently disciplined.

The fact that we assume that religious education is only
adapted to the adult, may be akin to another profound
error existing in education to-day, namely, that of over-
looking the education of the senses at the very period when
this education is possible. The life of the adult is prac-
tically an application of the senses to the gathering of
sensations from the environment. A lack of preparation

CONCLUSIONS AND IMPRESSIONS 373

for this, often results in inadequacy in practical life, in
that lack of poise which causes so many individuals to
waste their energies in purposeless effort. Not to form a
parallel between the education of the senses as a guide
to practical life, and religious education as a guide to the
moral life, but for the sake of illustration, let me call
attention to how often we find inefficiency, instability,
among irreligious persons, and how much precious indi-
vidual power is miserably wasted.

How many men have had this experience! And when
that spiritual awakening comes late, as it sometimes does,
through the softening power of sorrow, the mind is unable
to establish an equilibrium, because it has grown too much
accustomed to a life deprived of spirituality. We see
equally piteous cases of religious fanaticism, or we look
upon intimate dramatic struggles between the heart, ever
seeking its own safe and quiet port, and the mind that
constantly draws it back to the sea of conflicting ideas and
emotions, where peace is unknown. These are all psycho-
logical phenomena of the highest importance; they pre-
sent, perhaps, the gravest of all our human problems.
We Europeans are still filled with prejudices and hedged
about with preconceptions in regard to these matters. We
are very slaves of thought. We believe that liberty of
conscience and of thought consists in denying certain
sentimental beliefs, while liberty never can exist where
one struggles to stifle some other thing, but only where un-
limited expansion is granted; where life is left free and
untrammelled. He who really does not believe, does not
fear that which he does not believe, and does not combat
that which for him does not exist. If he believes and
fights, he then becomes an enemy to liberty.

In America, the great positive scientist, William James,

374 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

who expounds the physiological theory of emotions, is also
the man who illustrates the psychological importance of
religious " conscience." We cannot know the future of
the progress of thought : here, for example, in the " Chil-
dren's Houses " the triumph of discipline through the con-
quest of liberty and independence marks the foundation
of the progress which the future will see in the matter of
pedagogical methods. To me it offers the greatest hope
for human redemption through education.

Perhaps, in the same way, through the conquest of lib-
erty of thought and of conscience, we are making our way
toward a great religious triumph. Experience will show,
and the psychological observations made along this line
in the " Children's Houses " will undoubtedly be of the
greatest interest.

This book of methods compiled by one person alone,
must be followed by many others. It is my hope that,
starting from the individual study of the child educated
with our method, other educators will set forth the results
of their experiments. These are the pedagogical books
which await us in the future.

From the practical side of the school, we have with our
methods the advantage of being able to teach in one room,
children of very different ages. In our " Children's
Houses " we have little ones of two years and a half, who
cannot as yet make use of the most simple of the sense
exercises, and children of five and a half who because of
their development might easily pass into the third ele-
mentary. Each one of them perfects himself through his
own powers, and goes forward guided by that inner force
which distinguishes him as an individual.

One great advantage of such a method is that it will
make instruction in the rural schools easier, and will be

CONCLUSIONS AND IMPEESSIONS 375

of great advantage in the schools in the small provincial
towns where there are few children, yet where all the
various grades are represented. Such schools are not able
to employ more than one teacher. Our experience shows
that one directress may guide a group of children varying
in development from little ones of three years old to the
third elementary. Another great advantage lies in the
extreme facility with which written language may be
taught, making it possible to combat illiteracy and to
cultivate the national tongue.

As to the teacher, she may remain for a whole day
among children in the most varying stages of development,
just as the mother remains in the house with children of
all ages, without becoming tired.

The children work by themselves, and, in doing so,
make a conquest of active discipline, and independence in
all the acts of daily life, just as through daily conquests
they progress in intellectual development. Directed by an
intelligent teacher, who watches over their physical de-
velopment as well as over their intellectual and moral
progress, children are able with our methods to arrive at
a splendid physical development, and, in addition to this,
there unfolds within them, in all its perfection, the soul,
which distinguishes the human being.

We have been mistaken in thinking that the natural
education of children should be purely physical; the soul,
too, has its nature, which it was intended to perfect in
the spiritual life, — the dominating power of human ex-
istence throughout all time. Our methods take into con-
sideration the spontaneous psychic development of the
child, and help this in ways that observation and experi-
ence have shown us to be wise.

If physical care leads the child to take pleasure in

3T6 THE MONTESSOEI METHOD

bodily health, intellectual and moral care make possible
for him the highest spiritual joy, and send him forward
into a world where continual surprises and discoveries
await him; not only in the external environment, but in
the intimate recesses of his own soul.

It is through such pleasures as these that the ideal man
grows, and only such pleasures are worthy of a place in
the education of the infancy of humanity.

Our children are noticeably different from those others
who have grown up within the grey walls of the common
schools. Our little pupils have the serene and happy
aspect and the frank and open friendliness of the person
who feels himself to be master of his own actions. When
they run to gather about our visitors, speaking to them
with sweet frankness, extending their little hands with
gentle gravity and well-bred cordiality, when they thank
these visitors for the courtesy they have paid us in coming,
the bright eyes and the happy voices make us feel that
they are, indeed, unusual little men. When they display
their work and their ability, in a confidential and simple
way, it is almost as if they called for a maternal appro-
bation from all those who watch them. Often, a little
one will seat himself on the floor beside some visitor
silently writing his name, and adding a gentle word of
thanks. It is as if they wished to make the visitor feel
the affectionate gratitude which is in their hearts.

When we see all these things and when, above all, we
pass with these children from the busy activity of the
schoolroom at work, into the absolute and profound silence
which they have learne.d to enjoy so deeply, we are moved
in spite of ourselves and feel that we have come in touch
with the very souls of these little pupils.

The " Children's House " seems to exert a spiritual in-

CONCLUSIONS AND IMPRESSIONS 377

fluence upon everyone. I have seen here, men of affairs,
great politicians preoccupied with problems of trade and
of state, cast off like an uncomfortable garment the burden
of the world, and fall into a simple forgetfulness of self.
They are affected by this vision of the human soul grow-
ing in its true nature, and I believe that this is what they
mean when they call our little ones, wonderful children,
happy children — the infancy of humanity in a higher
stage of evolution than our own. I understand how the
great English poet Wordsworth, enamoured as he was of
nature, demanded the secret of all her peace and beauty.
It was at last revealed to him — the secret of all nature
lies in the soul of a little child. He holds there the true
meaning of that life which exists throughout humanity.
But this beauty which " lies about us in our infancy "
becomes obscured ; " shades of the prison house, begin to
close about the growing boy ... at last the man per-
ceives it die away, and fade into the light of common
day."

Truly our social life is too often only the darkening and
the death of the natural life that is in us. These methods
tend to guard that spiritual fire within man, tp keep his
real nature unspoiled and to set it free from the oppres-
sive and degrading yoke of society. It is a pedagogical
method informed by the high concept of Immanuel Kant :
" Perfect art returns to nature."

THE END

121

2 2 J373

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UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY

Montessori, Maria

The Montessori Method.

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Full text of "The Montessori method : scientific pedagogy as applied to child education in "the Children's Houses" with additions and revisions"

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