Spontaneous activity in education ebook




















Let us take the case of a writer under the influence of poetic inspiration, at the moment when his beneficent and inspiring work is about to take form for the help of other men. Or that of the mathematician who perceives the solution of a great problem, from which will issue new principles beneficial to all humanity.

Or again, that of an artist, whose mind has just conceived the ideal image which it is necessary to fix upon the canvas lest a masterpiece be lost to the world. Imagine these men at such psychological moments, broken in upon by some brutal person shouting to them to follow him at once, taking them by the hand, or pushing them out by the shoulders. And for what? The chess-board is set out for a game.

Our inspiration is lost; humanity will be deprived of [Pg 23] a poem, an artistic masterpiece, a useful discovery, by your folly. But the child in like case does not lose some single production; he loses himself.

For his masterpiece, which he is composing in the recesses of his creative genius, is the new man. The "caprices," the "naughtinesses," the "mysterious vapors" of little children are perhaps the occult cry of unhappiness uttered by the misunderstood soul. But it is not only the soul that suffers; the body suffers with it. For the influence exercised by the spirit on the entire physical existence is a characteristic of man.

In an institution for deserted children, there was one extremely ugly little creature, who had nevertheless greatly endeared himself to a young woman who had the care of him. This nurse one day told one of the patronesses that the child was growing very pretty.

The lady went to look at it, but found it very ugly, and thought to herself that daily habit soon accustoms us to the defects of others.

Some time after this the nurse made the same remark as before, and the lady good-naturedly paid another visit; impressed by the warmth with which the young woman spoke of the child, she was touched to think that love had made the speaker blind.

Several months elapsed, and finally the nurse, with a triumphant air, declared that henceforth no mistake would be possible, for the child had undoubtedly become "beautiful. When we delude ourselves with the idea that we are giving everything to children by giving them fresh air and food, we are not even giving [Pg 24] them this: air and food are not sufficient for the body of man; all the physiological functions are subject to a higher welfare, wherein the sole key of all life is to be found.

The child's body lives also by joyousness of soul. Physiology itself teaches us these things. A frugal meal taken in the open air will nourish the body far better than a sumptuous repast in a close room, where the air is impure, because all the functions of the body are more active in the open air, and assimilation is more complete.

In like manner a frugal meal eaten in common with beloved and sympathetic persons is much more nutritious than the food a humble, harassed secretary would partake at the lordly table of a capricious master. Liberty in this case is the cry that explains all. Parva domus sed mea a little house, but my own , has been quoted ever since the Roman epoch to indicate which is the most healthful of houses.

Where our lives are oppressed, there can be no health for us, even though we eat of princely banquets or in splendid buildings. With man the life of the body depends on the life of the spirit. Moral activities have such an exact correspondence with the functions of the body that it is possible to appreciate by means of these the various emotional states of grief, anger, weariness, and pleasure.

In grief , for instance, the action of the heart becomes feebler, as under a paralyzing influence; all the blood-vessels contract, and the blood circulates more slowly, the glands no longer secrete their juices normally, and these disturbances manifest themselves in a pallor of the face, an appearance of weariness in the drooping body, a mouth parched from lack of saliva, [Pg 25] indigestion caused by insufficiency of the gastric juice, and cold hands.

If prolonged, grief results in mal-nutrition and consequent wasting, and predisposes the debilitated body to infectious diseases. Weariness is like a rapid paralysis of the heart; it may induce fainting, as expressed in the popular phrase "dead tired"; but a reflex action will nearly always restore the sufferer, like an automatic safety-valve; thus a yawn, that is to say, a deep, spasmodic inspiration, which dilates the pulmonary alveoli, causes the blood to flow to the heart like a suction pump, and sets it in motion again.

In anger there is a kind of tetanic contraction of all the capillaries, causing extreme pallor, and the expulsion of an extra quantity of bile from the liver. Pleasure causes dilatation of the blood-vessels; the circulation, and consequently all the functions of secretion and assimilation are facilitated; the face is suffused with color, the gastric juice and the saliva are perceptible as that healthy appetite and that watering of the mouth which invite us to supply fresh nourishment to the body; all the tissues work actively to expel their toxins, and to assimilate fresh nourishment; the enlarged lungs store up large quantities of oxygen, which burn up all refuse, leaving no trace of poisonous germs.

It is an injection of health. In Italy, where after the abolition of the death penalty the punishment of solitary confinement was substituted, we have a proof even more eloquent of the influence of the spirit upon the functions of the body. With our modern measures of hygiene in prisons, the prison cell cannot be called a place of torture for the body: it is merely a place where all spiritual sustenance is withheld.

It consists of a cell with perfectly bare gray walls, opening only into a narrow strip of ground enclosed by high walls, where the criminal may walk [Pg 26] in the fresh air, because the open country is all around him, though it is hidden from his sight.

What is lacking here for the body? It is provided with food, and a shelter from the weather, it has a bed and a place where it can take in fresh stores of pure oxygen; the body can rest, nay more, it can do nothing but rest. The conditions seem almost ideal for any one who does not wish to do anything, and desires simply to vegetate. But no sound from without, no human voice ever reaches the ear of the being here incarcerated; he will never again see a color or a form.

No news from the outer world ever reaches him. Alone in dense spiritual darkness, he will spend the interminable hours, days, seasons, and years. Now, experience has shown that these wretched persons cannot live. They go mad and die. Not only their minds but their bodies perish after a few years. What causes death? If such a man were a plant, he would lack nothing, but he requires other nourishment.

Emptiness of the soul is mortal even to the vilest criminal, for this is a law of human nature. His flesh, his viscera, his bones perish when deprived of spiritual food, just as an oak-tree would perish without the nitrates of the earth and the oxygen of the air. This slow death substituted for violent death was, indeed, denounced as very great cruelty. To die of hunger in nine days like Count Ugolino is a more cruel fate than to be burnt to death in half an hour like Giordano Bruno; but to die of starvation of the spirit in a term of years is the most cruel of all the punishments hitherto devised for the castigation of man.

If a robust and brutal criminal can perish from starvation of the soul, what will be the fate of the infant if we take no account of his spiritual needs? His body is fragile, his bones are in process of [Pg 27] growth, his muscles, overloaded with sugar, cannot yet elaborate their powers; they can only elaborate themselves; the delicate structure of his organism requires, it is true, nutriment and oxygen; but if its functions are to be satisfactorily performed, it requires joy.

It is a joyous spirit which causes "the bones of man to exult. The precepts which govern moral education and instruction. The adult says to the child: "Do as I do. It is as if a father were to say in the morning to his little one: "Look at me, see how tall I am; when I return this evening, I shall expect you to have grown a foot. Education is greatly simplified by this method.

If a tale of some heroic deed is read to the child, and he is told to "become a hero"; if some moral action is narrated and is concluded with the recommendation, "be thou virtuous"; if some instance of remarkable character is noted together with the exhortation, "you too must acquire a strong character," the child has been put in the way of becoming a great man!

If children show themselves discontented and restless, they are told that they want for nothing, that they are fortunate to have a father and a mother, and to conclude, they are exhorted thus: "Children, be happy—a child should always be joyous"; and behold! Adults are quite content when they have acted thus. They straighten [Pg 29] out the character and the morals of their children as they formerly straightened their legs by bandaging them.

True, rebellious children occasionally demonstrate the futility of such teachings. In these cases a good instructor chooses appropriate stories showing the baseness of such ingratitude, the dangers of disobedience, the ugliness of bad temper, to accentuate the defects of the pupil.

It would be just as edifying to discourse to a blind man on the dangers of blindness, and to a cripple on the difficulties of walking. The same thing happens in material matters; a music-master says to a beginner: "Hold your fingers properly; if you do not, you will never be able to play. If the child were one day to exclaim: "But it is you who prevent me from developing will and character; when I seem naughty, it is because I am trying to save myself; how can I help being awkward when I am sacrificed?

There is a method by which the child may be brought to achieve the results which the adult has laid down as desirable; it is a very simple method. The child must be made to do whatever the adult wishes; the adult will then be able to lead him to the heights of goodness, self-sacrifice and strength, and the moral child will be created. To dominate the child, to bring him into subjection, to make him obedient—this is the basis of education. If this can be done by any [Pg 30] means whatever, even by violence, all the rest will follow; and remember, it is all for the good of the child.

The child could not be molded by any other means. It is the first and principal step in what is called "educating the will of the child," one which will henceforth enable the adult to speak of himself as Virgil speaks of God.

After this first step the adult will examine himself to see what are the things he finds most difficult, and these he will exact from the child in time , that the child may accustom himself to the necessary difficulties of man's life. But very often the adult also imposes conditions which he himself has not the fortitude to accept even partially It is the teacher who forms the child's mind.

How he teaches. He has a truly formidable task and a tremendous responsibility. The problems that present themselves to him are innumerable and acute; they form as it were a hedge of thorns separating him from his pupils.

What must first of all be devised, to win the attention of his pupils, so that he may be able to introduce into their minds all that seems to him necessary? How is he to offer them an idea in such a manner that they will retain it in their memories?

To this end, it is essential that he should have a knowledge of psychology, the precise manner in which physical phenomena are produced, the laws governing memory, the psychical mechanism by means of which ideas are formed, the laws governing the association of [Pg 31] ideas, by means of which very gradually ideas proceed to the most sublime activities, impelling the child to reason.

It is he who, knowing all these things, must build up and enrich the mind. And this is no easy matter, because, in addition to this difficult work, there is always the difficulty of difficulties, that of inducing the child to lend himself to all this endeavor, and to second the master, and not show himself recalcitrant to the efforts made on his behalf.

For this reason the moral education is the point of departure; before all things, it is necessary to discipline the class. The pupils must be induced to second the master's efforts, if not by love, then by force. Failing this point of departure, all education and instruction would be impossible , and the school useless. Another difficulty is that of economizing the powers of the pupils, that is to say, utilizing them to the utmost without wasting them.

How much rest is necessary? How long should any particular work be carried on? Perhaps ten minutes' rest may be necessary after the first three-quarters of an hour of occupation; but after another three-quarters of an hour, a pause of fifteen minutes may be required, and so on throughout the day; finally, a quarter of an hour's rest may be needed after ten minutes' occupation.

But what instruction is best adapted to the powers of a child during the various hours of the day? Is it best to begin with mathematics or with dictation? At what hours will the child be most inclined to exercise his powers of imagination, at 9 in the morning or at 11? Other anxieties must assail a perfect teacher!

How should he write on the blackboard so that the children seated at a distance may see? And how much light shall fall upon the blackboard, in order that all may see clearly the white [Pg 32] characters on the black surface? Of what size should be the script specially chosen by the master to suit distant vision?

This is a serious matter, because if the child, obliged by discipline to look and learn from a distance, should put too great a strain upon his powers of visual accommodation, he may in time become short-sighted; then the teacher would have manufactured a blind person. A serious matter indeed! What consideration has ever been given to the state of anxiety of such a teacher?

To get some idea of his anxiety we may think of a young wife about to become a mother, who should set herself such problems as the following: how can I create an infant, if I know nothing of anatomy; how can I form its skeleton?

I must study the structure of the bones carefully. I must then learn how the muscles are attached; but how will it be possible to put the brain into a closed box? And must the little heart go on beating continually until death? Is it possible that it will not weary? In like fashion, she might ponder thus over her new-born babe: it is evident that he will not be able to walk if he does not first of all understand the laws of equilibrium; if he is left to himself, he will not be able to understand these till he is twenty; I must therefore prepare to teach him these laws prematurely in order that he may be able to walk as quickly as possible.

The schoolmaster is the person who builds up the intelligence of the pupil; the intelligence of the pupil increases in direct proportion to the efforts of the teacher; in other words, he knows just what the master has made him know and understands neither more nor less than the master has made him understand.

When an inspector visits a school [Pg 33] and questions the pupils he turns to the master, and if he is satisfied says: "Well done, teacher! God enters the school as a symbol in the crucifix, but the creator is the teacher.

A good deal of help is given to teachers in their superhuman task. There is a kind of division of labor, by virtue of which more advanced experts prepare the schemata of instruction; basing them upon psychology, if the teaching is on a scientific plan, or on the principles laid down by one of the great pedagogists such as Herbart, for example; moreover, the sciences, such as hygiene and experimental psychology, are further invoked to overcome many practical difficulties and to help in the arrangement of schoolrooms, the drawing up of the curriculum, time-tables, etc.

Here, for instance, are notes for lessons on a psychological basis, that is to say, lessons which take account of the proper order of succession in which the psychical activities should develop in the mind of the child; by exercises of this kind, the pupil will not only learn, but will develop his intelligence in accordance with the laws governing its formation.

The candles we use are made of wax mixed with stearine. Stearine is made of the fat of oxen and sheep and pigs. Hence they are called stearine candles. There are also wax candles. These are yellowish and less greasy. Wax is produced by bees. There are also tallow candles; these are very greasy and have a disgreeable smell when burning.

Have you ever seen a bee-hive? Of what are the cells of the honeycomb made? When do you light a candle? Have you ever carried a lighted candle carelessly? Did not this cause a disaster? Comparison, association, abstraction.

Judgment and reasoning. Were they more useful formerly, or now that we have gas and electric light? It is indeed very agreeable to see how candles used by so many people are made. When we can satisfy our desire for instruction we feel pleasure and contentment. What should we do with wax if we did not know how to utilize it?

Man is able to work and to transform many products into useful substances and objects. Work is our life. Blessed be the workers! Let us also love work and devote ourselves diligently thereto. Any kind of lesson may be based on the same psychical plan, even a moral lesson. For instance:. Agreeable manners. My mother has ordered me to go there. I thought I had arrived, and I was so pleased.

I have come a long way, and I am so very, very tired. But come through my gate, and take the short cut I will show you through my fields. You will get to the church in five minutes. Successive relations of cause and effect.

The latter reached the church quickly, was saved much fatigue, and felt great relief. Have you always been ready to lend a comrade anything he has asked for? Have you always thanked those who have done you favors in an agreeable manner? Judgment, reasoning. Is it sufficient to give help solely to show oneself to be amiable? What sympathy he evokes in all! The disagreeable person is irritated by trifles. He excites disgust and fear in others. He who [Pg 36] is affable shows love to his neighbor.

You should be pleasant when you are conferring some favor, otherwise the favor will seem irksome. When you want something, do you ask for it arrogantly? If so, it will be easier to say no than yes to you. On the other hand, if you ask politely for something, will it not be difficult to refuse you? It will perhaps be more interesting to follow a lesson actually given, and accepted as a model for teachers in general. I therefore reproduce one of the lessons which gained a prize at a competition of teachers held in Italy.

The compositions were distinguished not by the names of the authors, but by mottoes. To give an idea of icy cold in contrast to that of heat. Combine with the idea to be imparted, the cultivation of a sense of compassion and pity for the very poor , to whom winter brings such severe suffering; a feeling I have already tried many times to arouse.

Everything is clean; everything is in order; I am so fond of you; you are so fond of me. Isn't this true, children? Tell me, Gino, are you cold? You said no at once. Well, no, you are right; we are really very cozy here. There, in that corner I point there is a thing which gives out much But outside, where there is no stove, over there, towards the horizon the children are to a certain extent familiar with this word , there is no warmth. Last night How beautiful the snow is!

Let us go and look at it closely. It is so beautiful that I see you would all like to take a little. But perhaps this is not allowed. To whom does the snow belong? No answer. Who bought it? Who made it?

Your mother? Then did your father buy it? They look at me in astonishment; these are really very strange questions. No, again. Well then, the snow belongs to every one. And if this is so, we may take a little handful of it. Evident signs of joy.

I will hand round the boxes you made [Pg 38] yesterday. These children have not desks with lockers in which they may put their little works. Using the boxes will be a good way of demonstrating the utility of their work. They will do very well to hold the beautiful snow. I talk to them as I distribute the boxes, that their attention may not flag.

I will take mine too, the one I made with you. It is larger than yours; so which will hold more snow, mine or yours? Just stop a moment; how comfortable we are here!

Put one hand over your face. How warm your face is, and how warm your hand is too! We shall see whether your hands will still be so warm after you have touched the snow.

Yes, indeed. Going out. How beautiful it is! It fell down from above. The sky has given the earth a beautiful dress, all At this juncture my children, accustomed to that principle of healthful, ordered liberty which is the main factor in the formation of character, touch and gather up the snow; some of them break the pure surface with little drawings.

I let them. I wait a minute, then I make as it were a sudden assault upon their attention:. Children, I too will take a little snow, but together with all of you. Stand up. Look well at me. Let us take away a little strip of the great cloak. Let us put it in our boxes. That's right. Re-entering the schoolroom. The children who are not well wrapped up are the coldest. Poor little things! And those [Pg 39] who haven't that thing full of burning coal in their houses!

How cold they will be! Come now, quickly; all to your places. Put the boxes on the desk. How cold the snow is! Did you notice how cold it made your hands, which were quite warm? In the courtyard, I saw Caroline take a little snow, and then suddenly let it fall; she was not strong enough to bear such cold.

But then she tried again, and the second time she did not drop it. Children, when the cold is as great as the cold of the snow, it is called frost. Say that, Guido. What is the word? Now you, Giannina. And the snow which is so cold is Who can guess? What is it the stove gives us? Do you remember? Do you know, our mouths also give out heat. Open yours. Not too much! Hold up one hand in front of it, the right hand. Breathe on it as I [Pg 40] am doing.

Let us breathe again; now let us send our breath outwards, as I am doing. Now feel. You see your mouth too gives out a little Now let us try putting a little snow into it. A little piece like this. Perhaps Giuseppe doesn't know. He didn't say it with the others.

Say it again, that he may say it with you. That will do. Bravo, Giuseppe. So our mouths were Let us eat another little piece of snow.

The snow turns to water in our mouths, because it is made of water only. Now bread is made of water too, but not only of water. What does the baker want to make the dough for bread? I will definitely recommend this book to education, classics lovers. Your Rating:. Your Comment:. Read Online Download. Great book, Spontaneous Activity in Education pdf is enough to raise the goose bumps alone. Add a review Your Rating: Your Comment:. Hot Sea Glass by Maria V. The specific requirements or preferences of your reviewing publisher, classroom teacher, institution or organization should be applied.

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