tion are perfect, if they have not spoilt them by abuse; in
every way cerebral activity leads the senses to receive an exact
impression; they have no need to touch. Children are anxious to get
knowledge of the external world; their parents know it too well
already.

Therefore they do not understand each other.

Parents want their children to do as they do, and any diversity is
called "naughtiness." Think of the mother who drags her child along
with her; he has to run while she walks; his legs are short, while
hers are long; weak, while hers are strong, he has to bear the weight
of his body and his disproportionately large head, while the mother
has a head and body which are proportionally lighter and smaller. The
child is tired and stands and cries, and the mother exclaims, "Come
on, you naughty little thing! I won't have any nonsense. Do you want
me to carry you, lazybones? No, I won't give in to you."

Or again, we see mothers who, when their children sit down on the
ground--or lay themselves flat on their stomachs with their feet in
the air, and support themselves on their elbows, while they look round
them, call out, "Off the ground! You are making yourself dirty,
naughty child."

All this may be translated in this way: "The child is different from
the adult. The formation of his body is such that his head and his
body are enormously large in comparison with his small, slender legs,
because they are the part which will grow most. Hence the child cannot
endure walking, and prefers to lie at full length, which is the most
healthy position for him. He has a wonderful tendency towards
development; he gets his first ideas of external life and assists his
senses of sight and hearing by touching, in order to realize the forms
of objects and distance. He moves continually, because he must
coordinate and adapt his mobility. Hence he moves a great deal, walks
very little, throws himself on the ground, and touches everything, and
these are signs that he is alive, and that he is growing." No--all
this is looked upon as naughtiness.

This is evidently not a moral question. We do not seek for means to
correct these depraved tendencies of the man who is but just born. No,
it is not a moral question. It is, however, a question of life.

The child seeks to live and we want to hinder him. In that sense it
does become a moral question, as regards ourselves, since we have
begun to examine those errors on our part which do harm,