{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_30661/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_30661","id":"gutenberg_30661","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30661","summary":null,"tags":["Category: German Literature","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Teaching & Education","Education"],"text":"Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Turgut Dincer and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  +-------------------------------------+\n  | Transcriber's note:                 |\n  |                                     |\n  | Many words in the text are spelled  |\n  | with or without a hyphen; these are |\n  | not corrected as both forms occur   |\n  | with almost same frequency and the  |\n  | hyphenated form might indicate an   |\n  | emphasis in words such as           |\n  | re-formation.                       |\n  +-------------------------------------+\n\n\n\n\n  PEDAGOGICS\n  AS A\n  SYSTEM.\n\n  By Dr. KARL ROSENKRANZ,\n\n  _Doctor of Theology and Professor of Philosophy at the University\n  of K\u00f6nigsberg._\n\n  TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN\n\n  By ANNA C. BRACKETT.\n\n\n  (_Reprinted from Journal of Speculative Philosophy._)\n\n\n  ST. LOUIS, MO.:\n  THE R. P. STUDLEY COMPANY, PRINTERS, CORNER MAIN & OLIVE STS.\n  1872.\n\n  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by\n  WILLIAM T. HARRIS,\n  In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.\n\n\n\n\n  ANALYSIS.\n\n     {FIRST PART.    {Its Nature.\n     {In its General {Its Form.\n     {  Idea.        {Its Limits.\n     {\n     {SECOND PART.   {Physical.\n     {In its Special {Intellectual.\n     {  Elements.    {Moral.\n     {\n     {             {          {            {Family     China.\n     {             {          {Passive.    {Caste      India.\n     {             {          {            {Monkish    Thibet.\n     {             {          {\n     {             {          {            {Military   Persia.\n     {             {National. {Active      {Priestly   Egypt.\n     {             {          {            {Industrial Phoenicia.\n     {             {          {\n     {             {          {            {\u00c6sthetic    Greece.\n  E  {             {          {Individual. {Practical   Rome.\n  D  {             {          {            {Abstract   {Northern.\n  U  {             {          {            { Individual{ Barbarians.\n  C  {             {\n  A  {             {Theocratic. . . . . . . . . . . .  Jews.\n  T  {             {\n  I  {             {Monkish.\n  O  {THIRD PART.  {\n  N  {In its       {\n     { Particular  {\n     { Systems.    {\n     {             {Chivalric.\n     {             {\n     {             {Humanitarian. {For Special  {Jesuitic.\n     {             {              { Callings.   {Pietistic.\n     {             {\n     {             {                            {The\n     {             {              {             {Humanistic.\n     {             {For Civil     {To achieve   {\n     {             {  Life.       { an Ideal of {The\n     {             {              { Culture.    {Philanthropic\n     {             {              {             {Movement.\n     {             {              {\n     {             {              {For Free Citizenship.\n\n\nPEDAGOGICS AS A SYSTEM.\n\n\n  [Inquiries from teachers in different sections of the\n  country as to the sources of information on the subject of\n  Teaching as a Science have led me to believe that a\n  translation of Rosenkranz's Pedagogics may be widely\n  acceptable and useful. It is very certain that too much of\n  our teaching is simply empirical, and as Germany has, more\n  than any other country, endeavored to found it upon\n  universal truths, it is to that country that we must at\n  present look for a remedy for this empiricism.\n\n  Based as this is upon the profoundest system of German\n  Philosophy, no more suggestive treatise on Education can\n  perhaps be found. In his third part, as will be readily\n  seen, Rosenkranz follows the classification of National\n  ideas given in Hegel's Philosophy of History. The word\n  \"Pedagogics,\" though it has unfortunately acquired a\n  somewhat unpleasant meaning in English--thanks to the\n  writers who have made the word \"pedagogue\" so\n  odious--deserves to be redeemed for future use. I have,\n  therefore, retained it in the translation.\n\n  In order that the reader may see the general scope of the\n  work, I append in tabular form the table of contents,\n  giving however, under the first and second parts, only the\n  main divisions. The minor heads can, of course, as they\n  appear in the translation, be easily located.--_Tr._]\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\n\u00a7 1. The science of Pedagogics cannot be derived from a simple principle\nwith such exactness as Logic and Ethics. It is rather a mixed science\nwhich has its presuppositions in many others. In this respect it\nresembles Medicine, with which it has this also in common, that it must\nmake a distinction between a sound and an unhealthy system of education,\nand must devise means to prevent or to cure the latter. It may therefore\nhave, like Medicine, the three departments of Physiology, Pathology, and\nTherapeutics.\n\n\u00a7 2. Since Pedagogics is capable of no such exact definitions of its\nprinciple and no such logical deduction as other sciences, the treatises\nwritten upon it abound more in shallowness than any other literature.\nShort-sightedness and arrogance find in it a most congenial atmosphere,\nand criticism and declamatory bombast flourish in perfection as nowhere\nelse. The literature of religious tracts might be considered to rival\nthat of Pedagogics in its superficiality and assurance, if it did not\nfor the most part seem itself to belong, through its ascetic nature, to\nPedagogics. But teachers as persons should be treated in their\nweaknesses and failures with the utmost consideration, because they are\nmost of them sincere in contributing their mite for the improvement of\neducation, and all their pedagogic practice inclines them towards\nadministering reproof and giving advice.\n\n\u00a7 3. The charlatanism of educational literature is also fostered by the\nfact that teaching has become one of the most profitable employments,\nand the competition in it tends to increase self-glorification.\n\n--When \"Boz\" in his \"Nicholas Nickleby\" exposed the horrible mysteries\nof an English boarding-school, many teachers of such schools were, as he\nassures us, so accurately described that they openly complained he had\naimed his caricatures directly at them.--\n\n\u00a7 4. In the system of the sciences, Pedagogics belongs to the Philosophy\nof Spirit,--and in this, to the department of Practical Philosophy, the\nproblem of which is the comprehension of the necessity of freedom; for\neducation is the conscious working of one will on another so as to\nproduce itself in it according to a determinate aim. The idea of\nsubjective spirit, as well as that of Art, Science, and Religion, forms\nthe essential condition for Pedagogics, but does not contain its\nprinciple. If one thinks out a complete statement of Practical\nPhilosophy (Ethics), Pedagogics may be distributed among all its grades.\nBut the point at which Pedagogics itself becomes organic is the idea of\nthe Family, because in the family the difference between the adults and\nthe minors enters directly through the naturalness of spirit, and the\nright of the children to an education and the duty of parents towards\nthem in this respect is incontestable. All other spheres of education,\nin order to succeed, must presuppose a true family life. They may extend\nand complement the business of teaching, but cannot be its original\nfoundation.\n\n--In our systematic exposition of Education, we must not allow\nourselves to be led into error by those theories which do not recognize\nthe family, and which limit the relation of husband and wife to the\nproducing of children. The Platonic Philosophy is the most worthy\nrepresentative of this class. Later writers who take great pleasure in\nseeing the world full of children, but who would subtract from the love\nto a wife all truth and from that to children all care, exhibit in their\ndoctrine of the anarchy of love only a sickly (but yet how prevalent an)\nimitation of the Platonic state.--\n\n\u00a7 5. Much confusion also arises from the fact that many do not clearly\nenough draw the distinction between Pedagogics as a science and\nPedagogics as an art. As a science it busies itself with developing _a\npriori_ the idea of Education in the universality and necessity of that\nidea, but as an art it is the concrete individualizing of this abstract\nidea in any given case. And in any such given case, the peculiarities of\nthe person who is to be educated and all the previously existing\ncircumstances necessitate a modification of the universal aims and ends,\nwhich modification cannot be provided for beforehand, but must rather\ntest the ready tact of the educator who knows how to make the existing\nconditions fulfil his desired end. It is exactly in doing this that the\neducator may show himself inventive and creative, and that pedagogic\ntalent can distinguish itself. The word \"art\" is here used in the same\nway as it is used when we say, the art of war, the art of government,\n&c.; and rightly, for we are talking about the possibility of the\nrealization of the idea.\n\n--The educator must adapt himself to the pupil, but not to such a degree\nas to imply that the pupil is incapable of change, and he must also be\nsure that the pupil shall learn through his experience the independence\nof the object studied, which remains uninfluenced by his variable\npersonal moods, and the adaptation on the teacher's part must never\ncompromise this independence.--\n\n\u00a7 6. If conditions which are local, temporal, and individual, are fixed\nas constant rules, and carried beyond their proper limits, are\nsystematized as a valuable formalistic code, unavoidable error arises.\nThe formul\u00e6 of teaching are admirable material for the science, but are\nnot the science itself.\n\n\u00a7 7. Pedagogics as a science must (1) unfold the general idea of\nEducation; (2) must exhibit the particular phases into which the general\nwork of Education divides itself, and (3) must describe the particular\nstandpoint upon which the general idea realizes itself, or should become\nreal in its special processes at any particular time.\n\n\u00a7 8. The treatment of the first part offers no difficulty. It is\nlogically too evident. But it would not do to substitute for it the\nhistory of Pedagogics, simply because all the conceptions of it which\nappear in systematic treatises can be found there.\n\n--Into this error G. Thaulow has fallen in his pamphlet on Pedagogics as\na Philosophical Science.--\n\n\u00a7 9. The second division unfolds the subject of the physical,\nintellectual and practical culture of the human race, and constitutes\nthe main part of all books on Pedagogy. Here arises the greatest\ndifficulty as to the limitations, partly because of the undefined nature\nof the ideas, partly because of the degree of amplification which the\ndetails demand. Here is the field of the widest possible differences. If\ne.g. one studies out the conception of the school with reference to the\nqualitative specialities which one may consider, it is evident that he\ncan extend his remarks indefinitely; he may speak thus of technological\nschools of all kinds, to teach mining, navigation, war, art, &c.\n\n\u00a7 10. The third division distinguishes between the different standpoints\nwhich are possible in the working out of the conception of Education in\nits special elements, and which therefore produce different systems of\nEducation wherein the general and the particular are individualized in a\nspecial manner. In every system the general tendencies of the idea of\neducation, and the difference between the physical, intellectual and\npractical culture of man, must be formally recognized, and will appear.\nThe How is decided by the standpoint which reduces that formalism to a\nspecial system. Thus it becomes possible to discover the essential\ncontents of the history of Pedagogics from its idea, since this can\nfurnish not an indefinite but a certain number of Pedagogic systems.\n\n--The lower standpoint merges always into the higher, and in so doing\nfirst attains its full meaning, e.g.: Education for the sake of the\nnation is set aside for higher standpoints, e.g., that of\nChristianity; but we must not suppose that the national phase of\nEducation was counted as nought from the Christian standpoint. Rather it\nitself had outgrown the limits which, though suitable enough for its\nearly stage, could no longer contain its true idea. This is sure to be\nthe case in the fact that the national individualities become\nindestructible by being incorporated into Christianity--a fact that\ncontradicts the abstract seizing of such relations.--\n\n\u00a7 11. The last system must be that of the present, and since this is\ncertainly on one side the result of all the past, while on the other\nseized in its possibilities it is determined by the Future, the business\nof Pedagogics cannot pause till it reaches its ideal of the general and\nspecial determinations, so that looked at in this way the Science of\nPedagogics at its end returns to its beginning. The first and second\ndivisions already contain the idea of the system necessary for the\nPresent.\n\n\n\n\nFIRST PART.\n\nThe General Idea of Education.\n\n\n\u00a7 12. The idea of Pedagogics in general must distinguish,\n\n  (1) The nature of Education in general;\n  (2) Its form;\n  (3) Its limits.\n\n\nI.\n\n_The Nature of Education._\n\n\u00a7 13. The nature of Education is determined by the nature of mind--that\nit can develop whatever it really is only by its own activity. Mind is\nin itself free; but if it does not actualize this possibility, it is in\nno true sense free, either for itself or for another. Education is the\ninfluencing of man by man, and it has for its end to lead him to\nactualize himself through his own efforts. The attainment of perfect\nmanhood as the actualization of the Freedom necessary to mind\nconstitutes the nature of Education in general.\n\n--The completely isolated man does not become man. Solitary human\nbeings who have been found in forests, like the wild girl of the forest\nof Ardennes, sufficiently prove the fact that the truly human qualities\nin man cannot be developed without reciprocal action with human beings.\nCaspar Hauser in his subterranean prison is an illustration of what man\nwould be by himself. The first cry of the child expresses in its appeals\nto others this helplessness of spirituality on the side of nature.--\n\n\u00a7 14. Man, therefore, is the only fit subject for education. We often\nspeak, it is true, of the education of plants and animals; but even when\nwe do so, we apply, unconsciously perhaps, other expressions, as\n\"raising\" and \"training,\" in order to distinguish these. \"Breaking\"\nconsists in producing in an animal, either by pain or pleasure of the\nsenses, an activity of which, it is true, he is capable, but which he\nnever would have developed if left to himself. On the other hand, it is\nthe nature of Education only to assist in the producing of that which\nthe subject would strive most earnestly to develop for himself if he had\na clear idea of himself. We speak of raising trees and animals, but not\nof raising men; and it is only a planter who looks to his slaves only\nfor an increase in their number.\n\n--The education of men is quite often enough, unfortunately, only a\n\"breaking,\" and here and there still may be found examples where one\ntries to teach mechanically, not through the understanding power of the\ncreative WORD, but through the powerless and fruitless appeal to\nphysical pain.--\n\n\u00a7 15. The idea of Education may be more or less comprehensive. We use it\nin the widest sense when we speak of the Education of the race, for we\nunderstand by this expression the connection which the acts and\nsituations of different nations have to each other, as different steps\ntowards self-conscious freedom. In this the world-spirit is the teacher.\n\n\u00a7 16. In a more restricted sense we mean by Education the shaping of\nthe individual life by the forces of nature, the rhythmical movement of\nnational customs, and the might of destiny in which each one finds\nlimits set to his arbitrary will. These often mould him into a man\nwithout his knowledge. For he cannot act in opposition to nature, nor\noffend the ethical sense of the people among whom he dwells, nor despise\nthe leading of destiny without discovering through experience that\nbefore the Nemesis of these substantial elements his subjective power\ncan dash itself only to be shattered. If he perversely and persistently\nrejects all our admonitions, we leave him, as a last resort, to destiny,\nwhose iron rule must educate him, and reveal to him the God whom he has\nmisunderstood.\n\n--It is, of course, sometimes not only possible, but necessary for one,\nmoved by the highest sense of morality, to act in opposition to the laws\nof nature, to offend the ethical sense of the people that surround him,\nand to brave the blows of destiny; but such a one is a sublime reformer\nor martyr, and we are not now speaking of such, but of the perverse, the\nfrivolous, and the conceited.--\n\n\u00a7 17. In the narrowest sense, which however is the usual one, we mean by\nEducation the influence which one mind exerts on another in order to\ncultivate the latter in some understood and methodical way, either\ngenerally or with reference to some special aim. The educator must,\ntherefore, be relatively finished in his own education, and the pupil\nmust possess unlimited confidence in him. If authority be wanting on the\none side, or respect and obedience on the other, this ethical basis of\ndevelopment must fail, and it demands in the very highest degree,\ntalent, knowledge, skill, and prudence.\n\n--Education takes on this form only under the culture which has been\ndeveloped through the influence of city life. Up to that time we have\nthe na\u00efve period of education, which holds to the general powers of\nnature, of national customs, and of destiny, and which lasts for a long\ntime among the rural populations. But in the city a greater complication\nof events, an uncertainty of the results of reflection, a working out of\nindividuality, and a need of the possession of many arts and trades,\nmake their appearance and render it impossible for men longer to be\nruled by mere custom. The Telemachus of Fenelon was educated to rule\nhimself by means of reflection; the actual Telemachus in the heroic age\nlived simply according to custom.--\n\n\u00a7 18. The general problem of Education is the development of the\ntheoretical and practical reason in the individual. If we say that to\neducate one means to fashion him into morality, we do not make our\ndefinition sufficiently comprehensive, because we say nothing of\nintelligence, and thus confound education and ethics. A man is not\nmerely a human being, but as a reasonable being he is a peculiar\nindividual, and different from all others of the race.\n\n\u00a7 19. Education must lead the pupil by an interconnected series of\nefforts previously foreseen and arranged by the teacher to a definite\nend; but the particular form which this shall take must be determined by\nthe peculiar character of the pupil's mind and the situation in which he\nis found. Hasty and inconsiderate work may accomplish much, but only\n_systematic_ work can advance and fashion him in conformity with his\nnature, and the former does not belong to education, for this includes\nin itself the idea of an end, and that of the technical means for its\nattainment.\n\n\u00a7 20. But as culture comes to mean more and more, there becomes\nnecessary a division of the business of teaching among different\npersons, with reference to capabilities and knowledge, because as the\narts and sciences are continually increasing in number, one can become\nlearned in any one branch only by devoting himself exclusively to it,\nand hence becoming one-sided. A difficulty hence arises which is also\none for the pupil, of preserving, in spite of this unavoidable\none-sidedness, the unity and wholeness which are necessary to humanity.\n\n--The na\u00efve dignity of the happy savage, and the agreeable simplicity of\ncountry people, appear to very great advantage when contrasted on this\nside with the often unlimited narrowness of a special trade, and the\nendless curtailing of the wholeness of man by the pruning processes of\ncity life. Thus the often abused savage has his hut, his family, his\ncocoa tree, his weapons, his passions; he fishes, hunts, plays, fights,\nadorns himself, and enjoys the consciousness that he is the centre of a\nwhole, while a modern citizen is often only an abstract expression of\nculture.--\n\n\u00a7 21. As it becomes necessary to divide the work of teaching, a\ndifference between general and special schools arises also, from the\nneeds of growing culture. The former present in different compass all\nthe sciences and arts which are included in the term \"general\neducation,\" and which were classified by the Greeks under the general\nname of Encyclop\u00e6dia. The latter are known as special schools, suited to\nparticular needs or talents.\n\n--As those who live in the country are relatively isolated, it is often\nnecessary, or at least desirable, that one man should be trained equally\non many different sides. The poor tutor is required not only to instruct\nin all the sciences, he must also speak French and be able to play the\npiano.--\n\n\u00a7 22. For any single person, the relation of his actual education to its\ninfinite possibilities can only be approximately determined, and it can\nbe considered as only relatively finished on any one side. Education is\nimpossible to him who is born an idiot, since the want of the power of\ngeneralizing and of ideality of conscious personality leaves to such an\nunfortunate only the possibility of a mechanical training.\n\n--S\u00e4gert, the teacher of the deaf mutes in Berlin, has made laudable\nefforts to educate idiots, but the account as given in his publication,\n\"Cure of Idiots by an Intellectual Method, Berlin, 1846,\" shows that the\nresult obtained was only external; and though we do not desire to be\nunderstood as denying or refusing to this class the possession of a mind\n_in potentia_, it appears in them to be confined to an embryonic\nstate.--\n\n\nII.\n\n_The Form of Education._\n\n\u00a7 23. The general form of Education is determined by the nature of the\nmind, that it really is nothing but what it makes itself to be. The mind\nis (1) immediate (or potential), but (2) it must estrange itself from\nitself as it were, so that it may place itself over against itself as a\nspecial object of attention; (3) this estrangement is finally removed\nthrough a further acquaintance with the object--it feels itself at home\nin that on which it looks, and returns again enriched to the form of\nimmediateness. That which at first appeared to be another than itself is\nnow seen to be itself. Education cannot create; it can only help to\ndevelop to reality the previously existent possibility; it can only help\nto bring forth to light the hidden life.\n\n\u00a7 24. All culture, whatever may be its special purport, must pass\nthrough these two stages--of estrangement, and its removal. Culture must\nhold fast to the distinction between the subject and the object\nconsidered immediately, though it has again to absorb this distinction\ninto itself, in order that the union of the two may be more complete and\nlasting. The subject recognizes then all the more certainly that what at\nfirst appeared to it as a foreign existence, belongs to it as its own\nproperty, and that it holds it as its own all the more by means of\nculture.\n\n--Plato, as is known, calls the feeling with which knowledge must begin,\nwonder; but this can serve as a beginning only, for wonder itself can\nonly express the tension between the subject and the object at their\nfirst encounter--a tension which would be impossible if they were not in\nthemselves identical. Children have a longing for the far-off, the\nstrange, and the wonderful, as if they hoped to find in these an\nexplanation of themselves. They want the object to be a genuine object.\nThat to which they are accustomed, which they see around them every day,\nseems to have no longer any objective energy for them; but an alarm of\nfire, banditti life, wild animals, gray old ruins, the robin's songs,\nand far-off happy islands, &c.--everything high-colored and\ndazzling--leads them irresistibly on. The necessity of the mind's making\nitself foreign to itself is that which makes children prefer to hear of\nthe adventurous journeys of Sinbad than news of their own city or the\nhistory of their nation, and in youth this same necessity manifests\nitself in their desire of travelling.--\n\n\u00a7 25. This activity of the mind in allowing itself to be absorbed, and\nconsciously so, in an object with the purpose of making it his own, or\nof producing it, is _Work_. But when the mind gives itself up to its\nobjects as chance may present them or through arbitrariness, careless as\nto whether they have any result, such activity is _Play_. Work is laid\nout for the pupil by his teacher by authority, but in his play he is\nleft to himself.\n\n\u00a7 26. Thus work and play must be sharply distinguished from each other.\nIf one has not respect for work as an important and substantial\nactivity, he not only spoils play for his pupil, for this loses all its\ncharm when deprived of the antithesis of an earnest, set task, but he\nundermines his respect for real existence. On the other hand, if he does\nnot give him space, time, and opportunity, for play, he prevents the\npeculiarities of his pupil from developing freely through the exercise\nof his creative ingenuity. Play sends the pupil back refreshed to his\nwork, since in play he forgets himself in his own way, while in work he\nis required to forget himself in a manner prescribed for him by another.\n\n--Play is of great importance in helping one to discover the true\nindividualities of children, because in play they may betray\nthoughtlessly their inclinations. This antithesis of work and play runs\nthrough the entire life. Children anticipate in their play the earnest\nwork of after life; thus the little girl plays with her doll, and the\nboy pretends he is a soldier and in battle.--\n\n\u00a7 27. Work should never be treated as if it were play, nor play as if it\nwere work. In general, the arts, the sciences, and productions, stand in\nthis relation to each other: the accumulation of stores of knowledge is\nthe recreation of the mind which is engaged in independent creation, and\nthe practice of arts fills the same office to those whose work is to\ncollect knowledge.\n\n\u00a7 28. Education seeks to transform every particular condition so that it\nshall no longer seem strange to the mind or in anywise foreign to its\nown nature. This identity of consciousness, and the special character of\nanything done or endured by it, we call Habit [habitual conduct or\nbehavior]. It conditions formally all progress; for that which is not\nyet become habit, but which we perform with design and an exercise of\nour will, is not yet a part of ourselves.\n\n\u00a7 29. As to Habit, we have to say next that it is at first indifferent\nas to what it relates. But that which is to be considered as indifferent\nor neutral cannot be defined in the abstract, but only in the concrete,\nbecause anything that is indifferent as to whether it shall act on these\nparticular men, or in this special situation, is capable of another or\neven of the opposite meaning for another man or men for the same men or\nin other circumstances. Here, then, appeal must be made to the\nindividual conscience in order to be able from the depths of\nindividuality to separate what we can permit to ourselves from that\nwhich we must deny ourselves. The aim of Education must be to arouse in\nthe pupil this spiritual and ethical sensitiveness which does not\nrecognize anything as _merely_ indifferent, but rather knows how to\nseize in everything, even in the seemingly small, its universal human\nsignificance. But in relation to the highest problems he must learn that\nwhat concerns his own immediate personality is entirely indifferent.\n\n\u00a7 30. Habit lays aside its indifference to an external action through\nreflection on the advantage or disadvantage of the same. Whatever tends\nas a harmonious means to the realization of an end is advantageous, but\nthat is disadvantageous which, by contradicting its idea, hinders or\ndestroys it. Advantage and disadvantage being then only _relative_\nterms, a habit which is advantageous for one man in one case may be\ndisadvantageous for another man, or even for the same man, under\ndifferent circumstances. Education must, therefore, accustom the youth\nto judge as to the expediency or inexpediency of any action in its\nrelation to the essential vocation of his life, so that he shall avoid\nthat which does not promote its success.\n\n\u00a7 31. But the _absolute_ distinction of habit is the moral distinction\nbetween the good and the bad. For from this standpoint alone can we\nfinally decide what is allowable and what is forbidden, what is\nadvantageous and what is disadvantageous.\n\n\u00a7 32. As relates to form, habit may be either passive or active. The\npassive is that which teaches us to bear the vicissitudes of nature as\nwell as of history with such composure that we shall hold our ground\nagainst them, being always equal to ourselves, and that we shall not\nallow our power of acting to be paralyzed through any mutations of\nfortune. Passive habit is not to be confounded with obtuseness in\nreceiving impressions, a blank abstraction from the affair in hand which\nat bottom is found to be nothing more than a selfishness which desires\nto be left undisturbed: it is simply composure of mind in view of\nchanges over which we have no control. While we vividly experience joy\nand sorrow, pain and pleasure--inwoven as these are with the change of\nseasons, of the weather, &c.--with the alternation of life and death, of\nhappiness and misery, we ought nevertheless to harden ourselves against\nthem so that at the same time in our consciousness of the supreme worth\nof the mind we shall build up the inaccessible stronghold of Freedom in\nourselves.--Active habit [or behavior] is found realized in a wide range\nof activity which appears in manifold forms, such as skill, dexterity,\nreadiness of information, &c. It is a steeling of the internal for\naction upon the external, as the Passive is a steeling of the internal\nagainst the influences of the external.\n\n[Sidenote: _Formation of Habits._]\n\n\u00a7 33. Habit is the general form which instruction takes. For since it\nreduces a condition or an activity within ourselves to an instinctive\nuse and wont, it is necessary for any thorough instruction. But as,\naccording to its content, it may be either proper or improper,\nadvantageous or disadvantageous, good or bad, and according to its form\nmay be the assimilation of the external by the internal, or the impress\nof the internal upon the external, Education must procure for the pupil\nthe power of being able to free himself from one habit and to adopt\nanother. Through his freedom he must be able not only to renounce any\nhabit formed, but to form a new one; and he must so govern his system of\nhabits that it shall exhibit a constant progress of development into\ngreater freedom. We must discipline ourselves, as a means toward the\never-changing realization of the Good in us, constantly to form and to\nbreak habits.\n\n--We must characterize those habits as bad which relate only to our\nconvenience or our enjoyment. They are often not blamable in themselves,\nbut there lies in them a hidden danger that they may allure us into\nluxury or effeminacy. But it is a false and mechanical way of looking at\nthe affair if we suppose that a habit which has been formed by a certain\nnumber of repetitions can be broken by an equal number of denials. We\ncan never renounce a habit utterly except through a clearness of\njudgment which decides it to be undesirable, and through firmness of\nwill.--\n\n\u00a7 34. Education comprehends also the reciprocal action of the\nopposites, authority and obedience, rationality and individuality, work\nand play, habit and spontaneity. If we imagine that these can be\nreconciled by rules, it will be in vain that we try to restrain the\nyouth in these relations. But a failure in education in this particular\nis very possible through the freedom of the pupil, through special\ncircumstances, or through the errors of the educator himself. And for\nthis very reason any theory of Education must take into account in the\nbeginning this negative possibility. It must consider beforehand the\ndangers which threaten the pupil in all possible ways even before they\nsurround him, and fortify him against them. Intentionally to expose him\nto temptation in order to prove his strength, is devilish; and, on the\nother hand, to guard him against the chance of dangerous temptation, to\nwrap him in cotton (as the proverb says), is womanish, ridiculous,\nfruitless, and much more dangerous; for temptation comes not alone from\nwithout, but quite as often from within, and secret inclination seeks\nand creates for itself the opportunity for its gratification, often\nperhaps an unnatural one. The truly preventive activity consists not in\nan abstract seclusion from the world, all of whose elements are innate\nin each individual, but in the activity of knowledge and discipline,\nmodified according to age and culture.\n\n[Sidenote: _Protection against Temptation._]\n\n--If one endeavors to deprive the youth of all free and individual\nintercourse with the world, one only falls into a continual watching of\nhim, and the consciousness that he is watched destroys in him all\nelasticity of spirit, all confidence, all originality. The police shadow\nof control obscures all independence and systematically accustoms him to\ndependence. As the tragi-comic story of Peter Schlemihl shows, one\ncannot lose his own shadow without falling into the saddest fatalities;\nbut the shadow of a constant companion, as in the pedagogical system of\nthe Jesuits, undermines all naturalness. And if one endeavors too\nstrictly to guard against that which is evil and forbidden, the\nintelligence of the pupils reacts in deceit against such efforts, till\nthe educators are amazed that such crimes as come often to light can\nhave arisen under such careful control.--\n\n\u00a7 35. If there should appear in the youth any decided moral deformity\nwhich is opposed to the ideal of his education, the instructor must at\nonce make inquiry as to the history of its origin, because the negative\nand the positive are very closely connected in his being, so that what\nappears to be negligence, rudeness, immorality, foolishness, or oddity,\nmay arise from some real needs of the youth which in their development\nhave only taken a wrong direction.\n\n\u00a7 36. If it should appear on such examination that the negative action\nwas only a product of wilful ignorance, of caprice, or of arbitrariness\non the part of the youth, then this calls for a simple prohibition on\nthe part of the educator, no reason being assigned. His authority must\nbe sufficient to the pupil without any reason. Only when this has\nhappened more than once, and the youth is old enough to understand,\nshould the prohibition, together with the reason therefor, be given.\n\n--This should, however, be brief; the explanation must retain its\ndisciplinary character, and must not become extended into a doctrinal\nessay, for in such a case the youth easily forgets that it was his own\nmisbehavior which was the occasion of the explanation. The statement of\nthe reason must be honest, and it must present to the youth the point\nmost easy for him to seize. False reasons are morally blamable in\nthemselves, and they tend only to confuse. It is a great mistake to\nunfold to the youth the broadening consequences which his act may bring.\nThese uncertain possibilities seem to him too powerless to affect him\nparticularly. The severe lecture wearies him, especially if it be\nstereotyped, as is apt to be the case with fault-finding and talkative\ninstructors. But more unfortunate is it if the painting of the gloomy\nbackground to which the consequences of the wrong-doing of the youth may\nlead, should fill his feelings and imagination prematurely with gloomy\nfancies, because then the representation has led him one step toward a\nstate of wretchedness which in the future man may become fearful\ndepression and degradation.--\n\n[Sidenote: _Reproof and Punishment._]\n\n\u00a7 37. If the censure is accompanied with a threat of punishment, then we\nhave the same kind of reproof which in daily life we call \"scolding;\"\nbut if reproof is given, the pupil must be made to feel that it is in\nearnest.\n\n\u00a7 38. Only when all other efforts have failed, is punishment, which is\nthe real negation of the error, the transgression, or the vice,\njustifiable. Punishment inflicts intentionally pain on the pupil, and\nits object is, by means of this sensation, to bring him to reason, a\nresult which neither our simple prohibition, our explanation, nor our\nthreat of punishment, has been able to reach. But the punishment, as\nsuch, must not refer to the subjective totality of the youth, or his\ndisposition in general, but only to the act which, as result, is a\nmanifestation of the disposition. It acts mediately on the disposition,\nbut leaves the inner being untouched directly; and this is not only\ndemanded by justice, but on account of the sophistry that is inherent in\nhuman nature, which desires to assign to a deed many motives, it is even\nnecessary.\n\n[Sidenote: _Correction_ VERSUS _Satisfaction of Justice._]\n\n\u00a7 39. Punishment as an educational means is nevertheless essentially\ncorrective, since, by leading the youth to a proper estimation of his\nfault and a positive change in his behavior, it seeks to improve him. At\nthe same time it stands as a sad indication of the insufficiency of the\nmeans previously used. On no account should the youth be frightened from\nthe commission of a misdemeanor, or from the repetition of his negative\ndeed through fear of punishment--a system which leads always to\nterrorism: but, although it may have this effect, it should, before all\nthings, impress upon him the recognition of the fact that the negative\nis not allowed to act as it will without limitation, but rather that the\nGood and the True have the absolute power in the world, and that they\nare never without the means of overcoming anything that contradicts\nthem.\n\n--In the statute-laws, punishment has the opposite office. It must first\nof all satisfy justice, and only after this is done can it attempt to\nimprove the guilty. If a government should proceed on the same basis as\nthe educator it would mistake its task, because it has to deal with\nadults, whom it elevates to the honorable position of responsibility for\ntheir own acts. The state must not go back to the psychological ethical\ngenesis of a negative deed. It must assign to a secondary rank of\nimportance the biographical moment which contains the deed in process\nand the circumstances of a mitigating character, and it must consider\nfirst of all the deed in itself. It is quite otherwise with the\neducator; for he deals with human beings who are relatively undeveloped,\nand who are only growing toward responsibility. So long as they are\nstill under the care of a teacher, the responsibility of their deed\nbelongs in part to him. If we confound the standpoint in which\npunishment is administered in the state with that in education, we work\nmuch evil.--\n\n\u00a7 40. Punishment as a negation of a negation, considered as an\neducational means, cannot be determined _\u00e0 priori_, but must always be\nmodified by the peculiarities of the individual offender and by the\npeculiar circumstances. Its administration calls for the exercise of the\ningenuity and tact of the educator.\n\n[Sidenote: _Three Kinds of Punishment._]\n\n\u00a7 41. Generally speaking, we must make a distinction between the sexes,\nas well as between the different periods of youth; (1) some kind of\ncorporal punishment is most suitable for children, (2) isolation for\nolder boys and girls, and (3) punishment based on the sense of honor for\nyoung men and women.\n\n\u00a7 42. (1) Corporal punishment is the production of physical pain. The\nyouth is generally whipped, and this kind of punishment, provided always\nthat it is not too often administered or with undue severity, is the\nproper way of dealing with wilful defiance, with obstinate carelessness,\nor with a really perverted will, so long or so often as the higher\nperception is closed against appeal. The imposing of other physical\npunishment, e.g. that of depriving the pupil of food, partakes of\ncruelty. The view which sees in the rod the panacea for all the\nteacher's embarrassments is censurable, but equally undesirable is the\nfalse sentimentality which assumes that the dignity of humanity is\naffected by a blow given to a child, and confounds self-conscious\nhumanity with child-humanity, to which a blow is the most natural form\nof reaction, in which all other forms of influence at last end.\n\n--The fully-grown man ought never to be whipped, because this kind of\npunishment reduces him to the level of the child, and, when it becomes\nbarbarous, to that of a brute animal, and so is absolutely degrading to\nhim. In the English schools the rod is much used. If a pupil of the\nfirst class be put back into the second at Eton, he, although before\nexempt from flogging, becomes liable to it. But however necessary this\nsystem of flogging of the English aristocracy may be in the discipline\nof their schools, flogging in the English army is a shameful thing for\nthe free people of Great Britain.--\n\n\u00a7 43. (2) By Isolation we remove the offender temporarily from the\nsociety of his fellows. The boy left alone, cut off from all\ncompanionship, and left absolutely to himself, suffers from a sense of\nhelplessness. The time passes heavily, and soon he is very anxious to be\nallowed to return to the company of parents, brothers and sisters,\nteachers and fellow-pupils.\n\n--To leave a child entirely to himself without any supervision, even if\none shuts him up in a dark room, is as mistaken a practice as to leave a\nfew together without supervision, as is too often done where they are\nkept after school, when they give the freest rein to their childish\nwantonness and commit the wildest pranks.--\n\n[Sidenote: _Sense of Honor in the Pupil._]\n\n\u00a7 44. (3) This way of isolating a child does not touch his sense of\nhonor at all, and is soon forgotten because it relates to only one side\nof his conduct. It is quite different from punishment based on the sense\nof honor, which, in a formal manner, shuts the youth out from\ncompanionship because he has attacked the principle which holds society\ntogether, and for this reason can no longer be considered as belonging\nto it. Honor is the recognition of one individual by others as their\nequal. Through his error, or it may be his crime, he has simply made\nhimself unequal to them, and in so far has separated himself from them,\nso that his banishment from their society is only the outward expression\nof the real isolation which he himself has brought to pass in his inner\nnature, and which he by means of his negative act only betrayed to the\nouter world. Since the punishment founded on the sense of honor affects\nthe whole ethical man and makes a lasting impression upon his memory,\nextreme caution is necessary in its application lest a permanent injury\nbe inflicted upon the character. The idea of his perpetual continuance\nin disgrace, destroys in a man all aspiration for improvement.\n\n--Within the family this feeling of honor cannot be so actively\ndeveloped, because every member of it is bound to every other\nimmediately by natural ties, and hence is equal to every other. Within\nits sacred circle, he who has isolated himself is still beloved, though\nit may be through tears. However bad may be the deed he has committed,\nhe is never given up, but the deepest sympathy is felt for him because\nhe is still brother, father, &c. But first in the contact of one family\nwith another, and still more in the contact of an individual with any\ninstitution which is founded not on natural ties, but is set over\nagainst him as a distinct object, this feeling of honor appears. In the\nschool, and in the matter of ranks and classes in a school, this is very\nimportant.--\n\n\u00a7 45. It is important to consider well this gradation of punishment\n(which, starting with sensuous physical pain, passes through the\nexternal teleology of temporary isolation up to the idealism of the\nsense of honor), both in relation to the different ages at which they\nare appropriate and to the training which they bring with them. Every\npunishment must be considered merely as a means to some end, and, in so\nfar, as transitory. The pupil must always be deeply conscious that it is\nvery painful to his instructor to be obliged to punish him. This pathos\nof another's sorrow for the sake of his cure which he perceives in the\nmien, in the tone of the voice, in the delay with which the punishment\nis administered, will become a purifying fire for his soul.\n\n\nIII.\n\n_The Limits of Education._\n\n\u00a7 46. The form of Education reaches its limits with the idea of\npunishment, because this is the attempt to subsume the negative reality\nand to make it conformable to its positive idea. But the limits of\nEducation are found in the idea of its nature, which is to fashion the\nindividual into theoretical and practical rationality. The authority of\nthe Educator at last becomes imperceptible, and it passes over into\nadvice and example, and obedience changes from blind conformity to free\ngratitude and attachment. Individuality wears off its rough edges, and\nis transfigured into the universality and necessity of Reason without\nlosing in this process its identity. Work becomes enjoyment, and he\nfinds his play in a change of activity. The youth takes possession of\nhimself, and can be left to himself.\n\n--There are two widely differing views with regard to the limits of\nEducation. One lays great stress on the weakness of the pupil and the\npower of the teacher. According to this view, Education has for its\nprovince the entire formation of the youth. The despotism of this view\noften manifests itself where large numbers are to be educated together,\nand with very undesirable results, because it assumes that the\nindividual pupil is only a specimen of the whole, as if the school were\na great factory where each piece of goods is to be stamped exactly like\nall the rest. Individuality is reduced by the tyranny of such despotism\nto one uniform level till all originality is destroyed, as in cloisters,\nbarracks, and orphan asylums, where only one individual seems to exist.\nThere is a kind of Pedagogy also which fancies that one can thrust into\nor out of the individual pupil what one will. This may be called a\nsuperstitious belief in the power of Education.--The opposite extreme\ndisbelieves this, and advances the policy which lets alone and does\nnothing, urging that individuality is unconquerable, and that often the\nmost careful and far-sighted education fails of reaching its aim in so\nfar as it is opposed to the nature of the youth, and that this\nindividuality has made of no avail all efforts toward the obtaining of\nany end which was opposed to it. This representation of the\nfruitlessness of all pedagogical efforts engenders an indifference\ntowards it which would leave, as a result, only a sort of vegetation of\nindividuality growing at hap-hazard.--\n\n[Sidenote: _The Limits of Individuality._]\n\n\u00a7 47. _The limit of Education is_ (1) _a Subjective one_, a limit made\nby the individuality of the youth. This is a definite limit. Whatever\ndoes not exist in this individuality as a possibility cannot be\ndeveloped from it. Education can only lead and assist; it cannot create.\nWhat Nature has denied to a man, Education cannot give him any more than\nit is able, on the other hand, to annihilate entirely his original\ngifts, although it is true that his talents may be suppressed,\ndistorted, and measurably destroyed. But the decision of the question in\nwhat the real essence of any one's individuality consists can never be\nmade with certainty till he has left behind him his years of\ndevelopment, because it is then only that he first arrives at the\nconsciousness of his entire self; besides, at this critical time, in the\nfirst place, much knowledge only superficially acquired will drop off;\nand again, talents, long slumbering and unsuspected, may first make\ntheir appearance. Whatever has been forced upon a child in opposition to\nhis individuality, whatever has been only driven into him and has lacked\nreceptivity on his side, or a rational ground on the side of culture,\nremains attached to his being only as an external ornament, a foreign\noutgrowth which enfeebles his own proper character.\n\n--We must distinguish from that affectation which arises through a\nmisunderstanding of the limit of individuality, the way which many\nchildren and young persons have of supposing when they see models\nfinished and complete in grown persons, that they themselves are endowed\nby Nature with the power to develop into the same. When they see a\nreality which corresponds to their own possibility, the presentiment of\na like or a similar attainment moves them to an imitation of it as a\nmodel personality. This may be sometimes carried so far as to be\ndisagreeable or ridiculous, but should not be too strongly censured,\nbecause it springs from a positive striving after culture, and needs\nonly proper direction.--\n\n[Sidenote: _Limit in the Means of Education._]\n\n\u00a7 48. (2) _The Objective limit of Education_ lies in the means which can\nbe appropriated for it. That the talent for a certain culture shall be\npresent is certainly the first thing; but the cultivation of this talent\nis the second, and no less necessary. But how much cultivation can be\ngiven to it extensively and intensively depends upon the means used, and\nthese again are conditioned by the material resources of the family to\nwhich each one belongs. The greater and more valuable the means of\nculture which are found in a family are, the greater is the immediate\nadvantage which the culture of each one has at the start. With regard to\nmany of the arts and sciences this limit of education is of great\nsignificance. But the means alone are of no avail. The finest\neducational apparatus will produce no fruit where corresponding talent\nis wanting, while on the other hand talent often accomplishes incredible\nfeats with very limited means, and, if the way is only once open, makes\nof itself a centre of attraction which draws to itself with magnetic\npower the necessary means. The moral culture of each one is however,\nfortunately from its very nature, out of the reach of such dependence.\n\n--In considering the limit made by individuality we recognize the side\nof truth in that indifference which considers Education entirely\nsuperfluous, and in considering the means of culture we find the truth\nin the other extreme of pedagogical despotism, which fancies that it can\ncommand whatever culture it chooses for any one without regard to his\nindividuality.--\n\n\u00a7 49. (3) _The Absolute limit of Education_ is the time when the youth\nhas apprehended the problem which he has to solve, has learned to know\nthe means at his disposal, and has acquired a certain facility in using\nthem. The end and aim of Education is the emancipation of the youth. It\nstrives to make him self-dependent, and as soon as he has become so it\nwishes to retire and to be able to leave him to the sole responsibility\nof his actions. To treat the youth after he has passed this point of\ntime still as a youth, contradicts the very idea of Education, which\nidea finds its fulfilment in the attainment of majority by the pupil.\nSince the accomplishment of education cancels the original inequality\nbetween the educator and the pupil, nothing is more oppressing, nay,\nrevolting to the latter than to be prevented by a continued dependence\nfrom the enjoyment of the freedom which he has earned.\n\n--The opposite extreme of the protracting of Education beyond its proper\ntime is necessarily the undue hastening of the Emancipation.--The\nquestion whether one is prepared for freedom has been often opened in\npolitics. When any people have gone so far as to ask this question\nthemselves, it is no longer a question whether that people are prepared\nfor it, for without the consciousness of freedom this question would\nnever have occurred to them.--\n\n[Sidenote: _Arrival at the age of Majority._]\n\n\u00a7 50. Although educators must now leave the youth free, the necessity of\nfurther culture for him is still imperative. But it will no longer come\ndirectly through them. Their pre-arranged, pattern-making work is now\nsupplanted by self-education. Each sketches for himself an ideal to\nwhich in his life he seeks to approximate every day.\n\n--In the work of self-culture one friend can help another by advice and\nexample; but he cannot educate, for education presupposes\ninequality.--The necessities of human nature produce societies in which\nequals seek to influence each other in a pedagogical way, since they\nestablish by certain steps of culture different classes. They presuppose\nEducation in the ordinary sense. But they wish to bring about Education\nin a higher sense, and therefore they veil the last form of their ideal\nin the mystery of secrecy.--To one who lives on contented with himself\nand without the impulse toward self-culture, unless his unconcern\nsprings from his belonging to a savage state of society, the Germans\ngive the name of Philistine, and he is always repulsive to the student\nwho is intoxicated with an ideal.--\n\n\n\n\nSECOND PART.\n\nThe Special Elements of Education.\n\n\n\u00a7 51. Education in general consists in the development in man of his\ninborn theoretical and practical rationality; it takes on the form of\nlabor, which changes that state or condition, which appears at first\nonly as a mere conception, into a fixed habit, and transfigures\nindividuality into a worthy humanity. Education ends in that\nemancipation of the youth which places him on his own feet. The special\nelements which form the concrete content of all Education in general are\nthe Life, Cognition, and Will of man. Without life mind has no\nphenomenal reality; without cognition, no genuine, i.e. conscious, will;\nand without will, no self-assurance of life and of cognition. It is true\nthat these three elements are in real existence inseparable, and that\nconsequently in the dialectic they continually pass over into one\nanother. But none the less on this account do they themselves prescribe\ntheir own succession, and they have a relative and periodical ascendancy\nover each other. In Infancy, up to the fifth or sixth year, the purely\nphysical development takes the precedence; Childhood is the time of\nlearning, in a proper sense, an act by which the child gains for himself\nthe picture of the world such as mature minds, through experience and\ninsight, have painted it; and, finally, Youth is the transition period\nto practical activity, to which the self-determination of the will must\ngive the first impulse.\n\n\u00a7 52. The classification of the special elements of Pedagogics is hence\nvery simple: (1) the Physical, (2) the Intellectual, (3) the Practical.\n(We sometimes apply to these the words Orthobiotics, Didactics, and\nPragmatics.)\n\n--\u00c6sthetic training constitutes only an element of the education of\nIntellectual Education, just as social, moral, and religious training\nform elements of Practical Education. But because these latter elements\nconcern themselves with what is external, the name \"Pragmatics\" is\nappropriate. In this sphere, Pedagogics should coincide with Politics,\nEthics, and Religion; but it is distinguished from them through the\naptitude which it brings with it of putting into practice the problems\nof the other three. The scientific arrangement of these ideas must\ntherefore show that the former, as the more abstract, constitutes the\nconditions, and the latter, as the more concrete, the ground of the\nformer, which are presupposed; and in consequence of this it is itself\ntheir principal teleological presupposition, just as in man the will\npresupposes the cognition, and cognition life; while, at the same time,\nlife, in a deeper sense, must presuppose cognition, and cognition\nwill.--\n\n\nFIRST DIVISION.\n\nPHYSICAL EDUCATION.\n\n\u00a7 53. The art of living rightly is based upon a comprehension of the\nprocess of Life. Life is the restless dialectic which ceaselessly\ntransforms the inorganic into the organic, but at the same time creates\nout of itself another inorganic, in which it separates from itself\nwhatever part of the inorganic has not been assimilated, which it took\nup as a stimulant, and that which has become dead and burned out. The\norganism is healthy when its reality corresponds to this idea of the\ndialectic, of a life which moves up and down, to and fro; of formation\nand re-formation, of organizing and disorganizing. All the rules for\nPhysical Education, or of Hygiene, are derived from this conception.\n\n\u00a7 54. It follows from this that the change of the inorganic to the\norganic is going on not only in the organism as a whole, but also in its\nevery organ and in every part of every organ; and that the organic as\nsoon as it has attained its highest point of energy, is again degraded\nto the inorganic and thrown out. Every cell has its history. Activity\nis, therefore, not contradictory to the organism, but favors in it the\nnatural progressive and regressive metamorphosis. This process can go on\nharmoniously; that is, the organism can be in health only when not only\nthe whole organism, but each special organ, is allowed, after its\nproductive activity, the corresponding rest and recreation necessary for\nits self-renewal. We have this periodicity exemplified in waking and\nsleeping, also in exhalation and inhalation, excretion and taking in of\nmaterial. When we have discovered the relative antagonism of the organs\nand their periodicity, we have found the secret of the perennial renewal\nof life.\n\n\u00a7 55. Fatigue makes its appearance when any organ, or the organism in\ngeneral, is denied time for the return movement into itself and for\nrenovation. It is possible for some one organ, as if isolated, to\nexercise a great and long-continued activity, even to the point of\nfatigue, while the other organs rest; as e.g. the lungs, in speaking,\nwhile the other parts are quiet; on the other hand, it is not well to\nspeak and run at the same time. The idea that one can keep the organism\nin better condition by inactivity, is an error which rests upon a\nmechanical apprehension of life. Equally false is the idea that health\ndepends upon the quantity and excellence of the food; without the force\nto assimilate it, it acts fatally rather than stimulatingly. _True\nstrength arises only from activity._\n\n--The later physiologists will gradually destroy, in the system of\nculture of modern people, the preconceived notion which recommended for\nthe indolent and lovers of pleasure powerful stimulants, very fat food,\n&c. Excellent works exist on this question.--\n\n\u00a7 56. Physical Education, as it concerns the repairing, the motor, or\nthe nervous, activities, is divided into (1) Dietetics, (2) Gymnastics,\n(3) Sexual Education. In real life these activities are scarcely\nseparable, but for the sake of exposition we must consider them apart.\nIn the regular development of the human being, moreover, the repairing\nsystem has a relative precedence to the motor system, and the latter to\nthe sexual maturity. But Pedagogics can treat of these ideas only with\nreference to the infant, the child, and the youth.\n\n\nFIRST CHAPTER.\n\n_Dietetics._\n\n\n\u00a7 57. Dietetics is the art of sustaining the normal repair of the\norganism. Since this organism is, in the concrete, an individual one,\nthe general principles of dietetics must, in their manner of\napplication, vary with the sex, the age, the temperament, the\noccupation, and the other conditions, of the individual. Pedagogics as a\nscience can only go over its general principles, and these can be named\nbriefly. It we attempt to speak of details, we fall easily into\ntriviality. So very important to the whole life of man is the proper\ncare of his physical nature during the first stages of its development,\nthat the science of Pedagogics must not omit to consider the different\nsystems which different people, according to their time, locality, and\nculture, have made for themselves; many, it is true, embracing some\npreposterous ideas, but in general never devoid of justification in\ntheir time.\n\n\u00a7 58. The infant's first nourishment must be the milk of its mother. The\nsubstitution of a nurse should be only an exception justified alone by\nthe illness of the mother; as a rule, as happens in France, it is simply\nbad, because a foreign physical and moral element is introduced into the\nfamily through the nurse. The milk of an animal can never be as good for\na child.\n\n\u00a7 59. When the teeth appear, the child is first able to eat solid food;\nbut, until the second teeth come, he should be fed principally on light,\nfluid nourishment, and on vegetable diet.\n\n\u00a7 60. When the second teeth are fully formed, the human being is ready\nfor animal as well as vegetable food. Too much meat is not good; but it\nis an anatomical error to suppose that man, by the structure of his\nstomach, was originally formed to live alone on vegetable diet, and that\nanimal food is a sign of his degeneracy.\n\n--The Hindoos, who subsist principally on vegetable diet, are not, as\nhas been often asserted, a very gentle race: a glance into their\nhistory, or into their erotic poetry, shows them to be quite as\npassionate as other peoples.--\n\n\u00a7 61. Man is omnivorous. Children have therefore a natural desire to\ntaste of everything. For them eating and drinking possess a kind of\npoetry; there is a theoretic ingredient blended with the material\nenjoyment. They have, on this account, a proneness to indulge, which is\ndeserving of punishment only when it is combined with disobedience and\nsecrecy, or when it betrays cunning and greediness.\n\n\u00a7 62. Children need much sleep, because they are undergoing the most\nactive progressive metamorphosis. In after-life sleep and waking should\nbe subjected to periodical regulation, but not too exactly.\n\n\u00a7 63. The clothing of children should be adapted to them; i.e. it should\nbe cut according to the shape of the body, and it must be loose enough\nto allow free play to their desire for movement.\n\n--With regard to this as well as to the sleeping arrangements for\nchildren, less in regard to food--which is often too highly spiced and\ntoo liberal in tea, coffee, &c.--our age has become accustomed to a very\nrational system. The clothing of children must be not only comfortable,\nbut it should be made of simple and cheap material, so that the free\nenjoyment of the child may not be marred by the constant internal\nanxiety that a rent or a spot may bring him a fault-finding or angry\nword. From too great care as to clothing, may arise a meanness of mind\nwhich at last pays too great respect to it, or an empty frivolity. This\nlast may be induced by dressing children too conspicuously.--\n\n\u00a7 64. Cleanliness is a virtue to which children should be accustomed for\nthe sake of their physical well-being, as well as because, in a moral\npoint of view, it is of the greatest significance. Cleanliness will not\nendure that things shall be deprived of their proper individuality\nthrough the elemental chaos. It retains each as distinguished from every\nother. While it makes necessary to man pure air, cleanliness of\nsurroundings, of clothing, and of his body, it develops in him a sense\nby which he perceives accurately the particular limits of being in\ngeneral.\n\n\nSECOND CHAPTER.\n\n_Gymnastics._\n\n\n\u00a7 65. Gymnastics is the art of systematic training of the muscular\nsystem. The action of the voluntary muscles, which are regulated by the\nnerves of the brain, in distinction from the involuntary automatic\nmuscles depending on the spinal cord, while they are the means of man's\nintercourse with the external world, at the same time re-act upon the\nautomatic muscles in digestion and sensation. Since the movement of the\nmuscular fibres consists in the change of contraction and expansion, it\nfollows that Gymnastics must bring about a change of movement which\nshall both contract and expand the muscles.\n\n\u00a7 66. The system of gymnastic exercise of any nation corresponds always\nto its way of fighting. So long as this consists in the personal\nstruggle of a hand-to-hand contest, Gymnastics will seek to increase as\nmuch as possible individual strength and adroitness. As soon as the\nfar-reaching missiles projected from fire-arms become the centre of all\nthe operations of war, the individual is lost in a body of men, out of\nwhich he emerges only relatively in sharp-shooting, in the charge, in\nsingle contests, and in the retreat. Because of this incorporation of\nthe individual in the one great whole, and because of the resulting\nunimportance of personal bravery, modern Gymnastics can never be the\nsame as it was in ancient times, even putting out of view the fact that\nthe subjectiveness of the modern spirit is too great to allow it to\ndevote so much attention to the care of the body, and the admiration of\nits beauty, as was given by the Greeks.\n\n--The Turners' unions and halls in Germany belong to the period of\nsubjective enthusiasm of the German student population, and had a\npolitical significance. At present, they have been brought back to their\nproper place as an Educational means, and they are of great value,\nespecially in large cities. Among the mountains, and even in the country\ntowns, a special institution for bodily exercise is less necessary, for\nthe matter takes care of itself. The attractions of the situation and\nthe games help to foster it. In great cities, however, the houses are\noften destitute of halls or open places where the children can take\nexercise in their leisure moments. In these cities, therefore, there\nmust be some gymnastic hall where the sense of fellowship may be\ndeveloped. Gymnastics are not so essential for girls. In its place,\ndancing is sufficient, and gymnastics should be employed for them only\nwhere there exists any special weakness or deformity, when they may be\nused as a restorative or preservative. They are not to become Amazons.\nThe boy, on the contrary, needs to acquire the feeling of\ngood-fellowship. It is true that the school develops this in a measure,\nbut not fully, because it determines the standing of the boy through his\nintellectual ambition. The academical youth will not take much interest\nin special gymnastics unless he can gain pre\u00ebminence therein. Running,\nleaping, climbing, and lifting, are too meaningless for their more\nmature spirits. They can take a lively interest only in the exercises\nwhich have a warlike character. With the Prussians, and some other\nGerman states, the art of Gymnastics identifies itself with military\nconcerns.--\n\n\u00a7 67. The real idea of Gymnastics must always be that the spirit shall\nrule over its naturalness, and shall make this an energetic and docile\nservant of its will. Strength and adroitness must unite and become\nconfident skill. Strength, carried to its extreme produces the athlete;\nadroitness, to its extreme, the acrobat. Pedagogics must avoid both. All\nimmense force, fit only for display, must be held as far away as the\nidea of teaching Gymnastics with the motive of utility; e.g. that by\nswimming one may save his life when he falls into the water, &c. Among\nother things, this may also be a consequence; but the principle in\ngeneral must always remain: the necessity of the spirit of subjecting\nits organism of the body to the condition of a perfect means, so that it\nmay never find itself limited by it.\n\n\u00a7 68. Gymnastic exercises form a series from simple to compound. There\nappears to be so much arbitrariness in them that it is always very\nagreeable to the mind to find, on nearer inspection, some reason. The\nmovements are (1) of the lower, (2) of the upper extremities; (3) of the\nwhole body, with relative striking out, now of the upper, now of the\nlower extremities. We distinguish, therefore, foot, arm, and trunk\nmovements.\n\n\u00a7 69. (1) The first series of foot-movements is the most important, and\nconditions the carriage of all the rest of the body. They are (_a_)\nwalking; (_b_) running; (_c_) leaping: each of these being capable of\nmodifications, as the high and the low leap, the prolonged and the quick\nrun. Sometimes we give to these different names, according to the means\nused, as walking on stilts; skating; leaping with a staff, or by means\nof the hands, as vaulting. Dancing is only the art of the graceful\nmingling of these movements; and balancing, only one form of walking.\n\n\u00a7 70. (2) The second series embraces the arm-movements, and it repeats\nalso the movements of the first series. It includes (_a_) lifting; (_b_)\nswinging; (_c_) throwing. All pole and bar practice comes under lifting,\nalso climbing and carrying. Under throwing, come quoit and\nball-throwing, and nine-pin playing. All these movements are\ndistinguished from each other, not only quantitatively but also\nqualitatively, in the position of the stretched and bent muscles; e.g.\nrunning is something different from quick walking.\n\n\u00a7 71. (3) The third series, or that of movements of the whole body,\ndiffers from the preceding two, which should precede it, in this, that\nit brings the organism into contact with a living object, which it has\nto overcome through its own activity. This object is sometimes an\nelement, sometimes an animal, sometimes a man. Our divisions then are\n(_a_) swimming; (_b_) riding; (_c_) fighting, or single combat. In\nswimming, one must conquer the yielding liquid material of water by arm\nand foot movements. The resistance met on account of currents and waves\nmay be very great, but it is still that of a will-less and passive\nobject. But in riding man has to deal with a self-willed being whose\nvitality calls forth not only his strength but also his intelligence and\ncourage. The exercise is therefore very complicated, and the rider must\nbe able perpetually to individualize it according to the necessity; at\nthe same time, he must give attention not only to the horse, but to the\nnature of the ground and the entire surroundings. But it is only in the\nstruggle with men that Gymnastics reaches its highest point, for in this\nman offers himself as a living antagonist to man and brings him into\ndanger. It is no longer the spontaneous activity of an unreasoning\nexistence; it is the resistance and attack of intelligence itself with\nwhich he has to deal. Fighting, or single combat, is the truly\nchivalrous exercise, and this may be combined with horsemanship.\n\n--In the single combat there is found also a qualitative modification,\nwhence we have three systems: (_a_) boxing and wrestling; (_b_) fencing\nwith sticks; and (_c_) rapier and broad-sword fencing. In the first,\nwhich was cultivated to its highest point among the Greeks, direct\nimmediateness rules. In the boxing of the English, a sailor-like\npropensity of this nation, fist-fighting is still retained as a custom.\nFencing with a stick is found among the French mechanics, the so-called\n_compagnons_. Men often use the cane in their contests; it is a sort of\nrefined club. When we use the sword or rapier, the weapon becomes\ndeadly. The Southern Europeans excel in the use of the rapier, the\nGermans in that of the sword. But the art of single combat is much\ndegenerated, and the pistol-duel, through its increasing frequency,\nproves this degeneration.--\n\n\nTHIRD CHAPTER.\n\n_Sexual Education._\n\n\n  NOTE.--The paragraphs relating to Sexual Education are\n  designed for parents rather than for teachers, the parent\n  being the natural educator of the family and sexual\n  education relating to the preservation and continuance of\n  the family. This chapter is accordingly, for the most\n  part, omitted here. It contains judicious reflections,\n  invaluable to parents and guardians.--_Tr._\n\n\u00a7 72. Gymnastic exercises fall naturally into a systematic arrangement\ndetermined by the chronological order of development through infancy,\nchildhood, and youth. Walking, running, and leaping belong, to the first\nperiod; lifting, swinging, and throwing, to the second; swimming,\nriding, and bodily contests, to the third, and these last may also be\ncontinued into manhood. But with the arrival at youth, a new epoch makes\nits appearance in the organism. It prepares itself for the propagation\nof the species. It expands the individual through the need which he\nfeels of uniting himself with another individual of the same species,\nbut who is a polar opposite to him, in order to preserve the two in a\nnew individual. The blood rushes more vigorously; the muscular strength\nbecomes more easily roused into activity; an indefinable impulse, a\nsweet melancholy takes possession of the being. This period demands a\nspecial care in the educator.\n\n\u00a7 73. The general preventive guards must be found in a rational system\nof food and exercise. By care in these directions, the development of\nthe bones, and with them of the brain and spinal cord at this period,\nmay be led to a proper strength, and that the easily-moulded material\nmay not be perverted from its normal functions in the development of the\nbody to a premature manifestation of the sexual instinct.\n\n\u00a7 74. Special forethought is necessary lest the brain be too early\nover-strained, and lest, in consequence of such precocious and excessive\naction, the foundation for a morbid excitation of the whole nervous\nsystem be laid, which may easily lead to effeminate and voluptuous\nreveries, and to brooding over obscene representations. The excessive\nreading of novels, whose exciting pages delight in painting the love of\nthe sexes for each other and its sensual phases, may lead to this, and\nthen the mischief is done.\n\n\nSECOND DIVISION.\n\nINTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.\n\n\u00a7 80. _Mens sana in corpore sano_ is correct as a pedagogical maxim, but\nfalse in the judgment of individual cases; because it is possible, on\nthe one hand, to have a healthy mind in an unhealthy body, and, on the\nother hand, an unhealthy mind in a healthy body. To strive after the\nharmony of soul and body is the material condition of all proper\nactivity. The development of intelligence presupposes physical health.\nHere we are to speak of the science of the art of Teaching. This had its\ncondition on the side of nature, as was before seen, in physical\nEducation, but in the sphere of mind it is related to Psychology and\nLogic. It unites, in Teaching, considerations on Psychology as well as a\nLogical method.\n\n\nFIRST CHAPTER.\n\n_The Psychological Presupposition._\n\n\n\u00a7 81. If we would have a sound condition of Philosophy, it must, in\nintellectual Education, refer to the conception of mind which has been\nunfolded in Psychology; and it must appear as a defect in scientific\nmethod if Psychology, or at least the conception of the theoretical\nmind, is treated again as within Pedagogics. We must take something for\ngranted. Psychology, then, will be consulted no further than is\nrequisite to place on a sure basis the pedagogical function which\nrelates to it.\n\n\u00a7 82. The conception of _attention_ is the most important to Pedagogics\nof all those derived from Psychology. Mind is essentially self-activity.\nNothing exists for it which it does not itself posit as its own. We hear\nit not seldom implied that something from outside conditions must make\nan impression on the mind, but this is an error. Mind lets nothing act\nupon it unless it has rendered itself receptive to it. Without this\npreparatory self-excitation the object does not really penetrate it, and\nit passes by the object unconsciously or indifferently. The horizon of\nperception changes for each person with his peculiarities and culture.\nAttention is the adjusting of the observer to the object in order to\nseize it in its unity and diversity. Relatively, the observer allows,\nfor a moment, his relation to all other surroundings to cease, so that\nhe may establish a relation with this one. Without this essentially\nspontaneous activity, nothing exists for the mind. All result in\nteaching and learning depends upon the clearness and strength with which\ndistinctions are made, and the saying, _bene qui distinguit bene docit_,\napplies as well to the pupil.\n\n\u00a7 83. Attention, depending as it does on the self-determination of the\nobserver, can therefore be improved, and the pupil made attentive, by\nthe educator. Education must accustom him to an exact, rapid, and\nmany-sided attention, so that at the first contact with an object he may\ngrasp it sufficiently and truly, and that it shall not be necessary for\nhim always to be adding to his acquisitions concerning it. The twilight\nand partialness of intelligence which forces us always to new\ncorrections because a pupil at the very commencement did not give entire\nattention, must not be tolerated.\n\n[Sidenote: _Psychological Faculties._]\n\n\u00a7 84. We learn from Psychology that mind does not consist of distinct\nfaculties, but that what we choose to call so are only different\nactivities of the same power. Each one is just as essential as the\nother, on which account Education must grant to each faculty its claim\nto the same fostering care. If we would construe correctly the axiom _a\npotiori fit denominatio_ to mean that man is distinguished from animals\nby thought, and that mediated will is not the same as thought, we must\nnot forget that feeling and representing are not less necessary to a\ntruly complete human being. The special direction which the activity of\napprehending intelligence takes are (1) Perception, (2) Conception, (3)\nThinking. Dialectically, they pass over into each other; not that\nPerception rises into Conception, and Conception into Thinking, but that\nThinking goes back into Conception, and this again into Perception. In\nthe development of the young, the Perceptive faculty is most active in\nthe infant, the Conceptive in the child, and the Thinking in the youth;\nand thus we may distinguish an intuitive, an imaginative, and a logical\nepoch.\n\n--Great errors arise from the misapprehension of these different phases\nand of their dialectic, since the different forms which are suitable to\nthe different grades of youth are mingled. The infant certainly thinks\nwhile he perceives, but this thinking is to him unconscious. Or, if he\nhas acquired perceptions, he makes them into conceptions, and\ndemonstrates his freedom in playing with them. This play must not be\ntaken as mere amusement; it also signifies that he takes care to\npreserve his self-determination, and his power of idealizing, in\nopposition to the pleasant filling of his consciousness with material.\nHerein the delight of the child for fairy tales finds its reason. The\nfairy tale constantly destroys the limits of common actuality. The\nabstract understanding cannot endure this arbitrariness and want of\nfixed conditions, and thus would prefer that children should read,\ninstead, home-made stories of the \"Charitable Ann,\" of the \"Heedless\nFrederick,\" of the \"Inquisitive Wilhelmine,\" &c. Above all, it praises\n\"Robinson Crusoe,\" which contains much heterogeneous matter, but nothing\nimprobable. When the youth and maiden of necessity pass over into the\nearnestness of real life, the drying up of the imagination and the\ndomination of the understanding presses in.--\n\n\nI. _The Intuitive Epoch._\n\n\u00a7 85. Perception, as the beginning of intellectual culture, is the free\ngrasping of a content immediately present to the spirit. Education can\ndo nothing directly toward the performance of this act; it can only\nassist in making it easy:--(1) it can isolate the subject of\nconsideration; (2) it can give facility in the transition to another;\n(3) it can promote the many-sidedness of the interest, by which means\nthe return to a perception already obtained has always a fresh charm.\n\n\u00a7 86. The immediate perception of many things is impossible, and yet\nthe necessity for it is obvious. We must then have recourse to a\nmediated perception, and supply the lack of actual seeing by\nrepresentations. But here the difficulty presents itself, that there are\nmany objects which we are not able to represent of the same size as they\nreally are, and we must have a reduced scale; and there follows a\ndifficulty in making the representation, as neither too large nor too\nsmall. An explanation is then also necessary as a judicious supplement\nto the picture.\n\n\u00a7 87. Pictures are extremely valuable aids to instruction when they are\ncorrect and characteristic. Correctness must be demanded in these\nsubstitutes for natural objects, historical persons and scenes. Without\nthis correctness, the picture, if not an impediment, is, to say the\nleast, useless.\n\n--It is only since the last half of the seventeenth century, i.e. since\nthe disappearance of real painting, that the picture-book has appeared\nas an educational means; first of all, coming from miniature painting.\nUp to that time, public life had plenty of pictures of arms, furniture,\nhouses, and churches; and men, from their fondness for constantly moving\nabout, were more weary of immediate perception. It was only afterwards\nwhen, in the excitement of the thirty-years' war, the arts of Sculpture\nand Painting and Christian and Pagan Mythology became extinct, that\nthere arose a greater necessity for pictured representations. The _Orbis\nRerum Sensualium Pictus_, which was also to be _janua linguarum\nreserata_, of Amos Comenius, appeared first in 1658, and was reprinted\nin 1805. Many valuable illustrated books followed. Since that time\ninnumerable illustrated Bibles and histories have appeared, but many of\nthem look only to the pecuniary profit of the author or the publisher.\nIt is revolting to see the daubs that are given to children. They are\nhighly colored, but as to correctness, to say nothing of character, they\nare good for nothing. With a little conscientiousness and scientific\nknowledge very different results could be obtained with the same outlay\nof money and of strength. The uniformity which exists in the stock of\nbooks which German book-selling has set in circulation is really\ndisgraceful. Everywhere we find the same types, even in ethnographical\npictures. In natural history, the illustrations were often drawn from\nthe imagination or copied from miserable models. This has changed very\nmuch for the better. The same is true of architectural drawings and\nlandscapes, for which we have now better copies.--\n\n\u00a7 88. Children have naturally a desire to collect things, and this may\nbe so guided that they shall collect and arrange plants, butterflies,\nbeetles, shells, skeletons, &c., and thus gain exactness and reality in\ntheir perception. Especially should they practise drawing, which leads\nthem to form exact images of objects. But drawing, as children practise\nit, does not have the educational significance of cultivating in them an\nappreciation of art, but rather that of educating the eye, as this must\nbe exercised in estimating distances, sizes, and colors. It is,\nmoreover, a great gain in many ways, if, through a suitable course of\nlessons in drawing, the child is advanced to a knowledge of the\nelementary forms of nature.\n\n--That pictures should affect children as works of art is not to be\ndesired. They confine themselves at first to distinguishing the outlines\nand colors, and do not yet appreciate the execution. If the children\nhave access to real works of art, we may safely trust in their power,\nand quietly await their moral or \u00e6sthetic effect.--\n\n\u00a7 89. In order that looking at pictures shall not degenerate into mere\ndiversion, explanations should accompany them. Only when the thought\nembodied in the illustration is pointed out, can they be useful as a\nmeans of instruction. Simply looking at them is of as little value\ntowards this end as is water for baptism without the Holy Spirit. Our\nage inclines at present to the superstition that man is able, by means\nof simple intuition, to attain a knowledge of the essence of things, and\nthereby dispense with the trouble of thinking. Illustrations are the\norder of the day, and, in the place of enjoyable descriptions, we find\nmiserable pictures. It is in vain to try to get behind things, or to\ncomprehend them, except by thinking.\n\n\u00a7 90. The ear as well as the eye must be cultivated. Music must be\nconsidered the first educational means to this end, but it should be\nmusic inspired by ethical purity. Hearing is the most internal of all\nthe senses, and should on this account be treated with the greatest\ndelicacy. Especially should the child be taught that he is not to look\nupon speech as merely a vehicle for communication and for gaining\ninformation; it should also give pleasure, and therefore he should be\ntaught to speak distinctly and with a good style, and this he can do\nonly when he carefully considers what he is going to say.\n\n--Among the Greeks, extraordinary care was given to musical cultivation,\nespecially in its ethical relation. Sufficient proof of this is found in\nthe admirable detailed statements on this point in the \"Republic\" of\nPlato and in the last book of the \"Politics\" of Aristotle. Among modern\nnations, also, music holds a high place, and makes its appearance as a\nconstant element of education. Piano-playing has become general, and\nsinging is also taught. But the ethical significance of music is too\nlittle considered. Instruction in music often aims only to train pupils\nfor display in society, and the tendency of the melodies which are\nplayed is restricted more and more to orchestral pieces of an exciting\nor bacchanalian character. The railroad-gallop-style only makes the\nnerves of youth vibrate with stimulating excitement. Oral speech, the\nhighest form of the personal manifestation of mind, was also treated\nwith great reverence by the ancients. Among us, communication is so\ngenerally carried on by writing and reading, that the art of speaking\ndistinctly, correctly, and agreeably, has become very much neglected.\nPractice in declamation accomplishes, as a general thing, very little in\nthis direction. But we may expect that the increase of public speaking\noccasioned by our political and religious assemblies may have a\nfavorable influence in this particular.--\n\n\nII. _The Imaginative Epoch._\n\n\u00a7 91. The activity of Perception results in the formation of an internal\npicture or image of its ideas which intelligence can call up at any time\nwithout the sensuous, immediate presence of its object, and thus,\nthrough abstraction and generalization, arises the conception. The\nmental image may (1) be compared with the perception from which it\nsprang, or (2) it may be arbitrarily altered and combined with other\nimages, or (3) it may be held fast in the form of abstract signs or\nsymbols which intelligence invents for it. Thus originate the functions\n(1) of the verification of conceptions, (2) of the creative imagination,\nand (3) of memory; but for their full development we must refer to\nPsychology.\n\n\u00a7 92. (1) The mental image which we form of an object may be correct;\nagain, it may be partly or wholly defective, if we have neglected some\nof the predicates of the perception which presented themselves, or in so\nfar as we have added to it other predicates which only seemingly\nbelonged to it, and which were attached to it only by its accidental\nempirical connection with other existences. Education must, therefore,\nfoster the habit of comparing our conceptions with the perceptions from\nwhich they arose; and these perceptions, since they are liable to change\nby reason of their empirical connection with other objects, must be\nfrequently compared with our conceptions previously formed by\nabstractions from them.\n\n\u00a7 93. (2) We are thus limited in our conceptions by our perceptions, but\nwe exercise a free control over our conceptions. We can create out of\nthem, as simple elements, the manifold mental shapes which we do not\ntreat as given to us, but as essentially our own work. In Pedagogics, we\nmust not only look upon this freedom as if it were only to afford\ngratification, but as the reaction of the absolute ideal native mind\nagainst the dependence in which the empirical reception of impressions\nfrom without, and their reproduction in conceptions, place it. In this\nprocess, it does not only fashion in itself the phenomenal world, but it\nrather fashions out of itself a world which is all its own.\n\n\u00a7 94. The study of Art comes here to the aid of Pedagogics, especially\nwith Poetry, the highest and at the same time the most easily\ncommunicated. The imagination of the pupil can be led by means of the\nclassical works of creative imagination to the formation of a good taste\nboth as regards ethical value and beauty of form. The proper classical\nworks for youth are those which nations have produced in the earliest\nstages of their culture. These works bring children face to face with\nthe picture which mind has sketched for itself in one of the necessary\nstages of its development. This is the real reason why our children\nnever weary of reading Homer and the stories of the Old Testament.\nPolytheism and the heroism which belongs to it are just as substantial\nan element of childish conception as monotheism with its prophets and\npatriarchs. We stand beyond both, because we are mediated by both, and\nembrace both in our stand-point.\n\n--The purest stories of literature designed for the amusement of\nchildren from their seventh to their fourteenth year, consist always of\nthose which were honored by nations and the world at large. One has only\nto notice in how many thousand forms the stories of Ulysses are\nreproduced by the writers of children's tales. Becker's \"Tales of\nAncient Times,\" Gustav Schwab's most admirable \"Sagas of Antiquity,\"\nKarl Grimm's \"Tales of Olden Times,\" &c., what were they without the\nwell-talking, wily favorite of Pallas, and the divine swine-herd? And\njust as indestructible are the stories of the Old Testament up to the\nseparation of Judah and Israel. These patriarchs with their wives and\nchildren, these judges and prophets, these kings and priests, are by no\nmeans ideals of virtue in the notion of our modern lifeless morality,\nwhich would smooth out of its pattern-stories for the \"dear children\"\neverything that is hard and uncouth. For the very reason that the\nshadow-side is not wanting here, and that we find envy, vanity, evil\ndesire, ingratitude, craftiness, and deceit, among these fathers of the\nrace and leaders of \"God's chosen people,\" have these stories so great\nan educational value. Adam, Cain, Abraham, Joseph, Samson, and David,\nhave justly become as truly world-historical types as Achilles and\nPatroclus, Agamemnon and Iphigenia, Hector and Andromache, Ulysses and\nPenelope.--\n\n\u00a7 95. There may be produced also, out of the simplest and most primitive\nphases of different epochs of culture of one and the same people,\nstories which answer to the imagination of children, and represent to\nthem the characteristic features of the past of their people.\n\n--The Germans possess such a collection of their stories in their\npopular books of the \"Horny Sigfried,\" of the \"Heymon Children,\" of\n\"Beautiful _Magelone_,\" \"Fortunatus,\" \"The Wandering Jew,\" \"Faust,\" \"The\nAdventurous Simplicissimus,\" \"The _Schildb\u00fcrger_,\" \"The Island of\nFelsenburg,\" \"Lienhard and Gertrude,\" &c. Also, the art works of the\ngreat masters which possess national significance must be spoken of\nhere, as the Don Quixote of Cervantes.--\n\n\u00a7 96. The most general form in which the childish imagination finds\nexercise is that of fairy-tales; but Education must take care that it\nhas these in their proper shape as national productions, and that they\nare not of the morbid kind which poetry so often gives us in this\nspecies of literature, and which not seldom degenerate to sentimental\ncaricatures and silliness.\n\n--The East Indian stories are most excellent because they have their\norigin with a childlike people who live wholly in the imagination. By\nmeans of the Arabian filtration, which took place in Cairo in the\nflourishing period of the Egyptian caliphs, all that was too\ncharacteristically Indian was excluded, and they were made in the \"Tales\nof Scheherezade,\" a book for all peoples, with whose far-reaching power\nin child-literature, the local stories of a race, as e.g. Grimm's\nadmirable ones of German tradition, cannot compare. Fairy-tales made to\norder, as we often see them, with a medi\u00e6val Catholic tendency, or very\nmoral and dry, are a bane to the youthful imagination in their stale\nsweetness. We must here add, however, that lately we have had some\nbetter success in our attempts since we have learned to distinguish\nbetween the na\u00efve natural poetry, which is without reflection, and the\npoetry of art, which is conditioned by criticism and an ideal. This\ndistinction has produced good fruits even in the picture-books of\nchildren. The pretensions of the gentlemen who printed illustrated books\ncontaining nothing more solid than the alphabet and the multiplication\ntable have become less prominent since such men as Speckter, Fr\u00f6hlich,\nGutsmuths, Hofman (the writer of \"Slovenly Peter\"), and others, have\nshown that seemingly trivial things can be handled with intellectual\npower, if one is blessed with it, and that nothing is more opposed to\nthe child's imagination than the _childishness_ with which so many\nwriters for children have fallen when they attempted to descend with\ndignity from their presumably lofty stand-point. Men are beginning to\nunderstand that Christ promised the kingdom of heaven to little children\non other grounds than because they had as it were the privilege of being\nthoughtless and foolish.--\n\n\u00a7 97. For youth and maidens, especially as they approach manhood and\nwomanhood, the cultivation of the imagination must allow the earnestness\nof actuality to manifest itself in its undisguised energy. This\nearnestness, no longer through the symbolism of play but in its\nobjective reality, must now thoroughly penetrate the conceptions of the\nyouth so that it shall prepare him to seize hold of the machinery of\nactive life. Instead of the all-embracing Epos they should now read\nTragedy, whose purifying process, through the alternation of fear and\npity, unfolds to the youth the secret of all human destiny, sin and its\nexpiation. The works best adapted to lead to history on this side are\nthose of biography--of ancient times, Plutarch; of modern times, the\nautobiographies of Augustine, Cellini, Rousseau, Goethe, Varnhagen, Jung\nStilling, Moritz, Arndt, &c. These autobiographies contain a view of the\ngrowth of individuality through its inter-action with the influences of\nits time, and, together with the letters and memoirs of great or at\nleast noteworthy men, tend to produce a healthy excitement in the\nyouth, who must learn to fight his own battles through a knowledge of\nthe battles of others. To introduce the youth to a knowledge of Nature\nand Ethnography no means are better than those of books of travel which\ngive the charm of first contact, the joy of discovery, instead of the\ngeneral consciousness of the conquests of mind.\n\n--If educative literature on the one hand broadens the field of\nknowledge, on the other it may also promote its elaboration into ideal\nforms. This happens, in a strict sense, through philosophical\nliterature. But only two different species of this are to be recommended\nto youth: (1) well-written treatises which endeavor to solve a single\nproblem with spirit and thoroughness; or, (2) when the intelligence has\ngrown strong enough for it, the classical works of a real philosopher.\nGerman literature is fortunately very rich in treatises of this kind in\nthe works of Lessing, Herder, Kant, Fichte, Schleiermacher, Humboldt,\nand Schiller. But nothing does more harm to youth than the study of\nworks of mediocrity, or those of a still lower rank. They stupefy and\nnarrow the mind by their empty, hollow, and constrained style. It is\ngenerally supposed that these standard works are too difficult, and that\none must first seize them in this trivial and diluted form in order to\nunderstand them. This is one of the most prevalent and most dangerous\nerrors, for these Introductions or Explanations, easily-comprehended\nTreatises, Summary Abstracts, are, because of their want of originality\nand of the acuteness which belongs to it, much more difficult to\nunderstand than the standard work itself from which they drain their\nsupplies. Education must train the youth to the courage which will\nattempt standard works, and it must not allow any such miserable\npreconceived opinions to grow up in his mind as that his understanding\nis totally unable to comprehend works like Fichte's \"Science of\nKnowledge,\" the \"Metaphysics\" of Aristotle, or Hegel's \"Phenomenology.\"\nNo science suffers so much as Philosophy from this false popular\nopinion, which understands neither itself nor its authority. The youth\nmust _learn how to learn to understand_, and, in order to do this, he\nmust know that one cannot immediately understand everything in its\nfinest subdivisions, and that on this account he must have patience, and\nmust resolve to read over and over again, and to think over what he has\nread.--\n\n\u00a7 98. (3) Imagination returns again within itself to perception in that\nit replaces, for conceptions, perceptions themselves, which are to\nremind it of the previous conception. These perceptions may resemble in\nsome way the perception which lies at the basis of the conception, and\nbe thus more or less symbolical; or they may be merely arbitrary\ncreations of the creative imagination, and are in this case pure signs.\nIn common speech and writing, we call the free retaining of these\nperceptions created by imagination, and the recalling of the conceptions\ndenoted by them, _Memory_. It is by no means a particular faculty of the\nmind, which is again subdivided into memory of persons, names, numbers,\n&c. As to its form, memory is the stage of the dissolution of\nconception; but as to its content, it arises from the interest which we\ntake in a subject-matter. From this interest results, moreover, careful\nattention, and from this latter, facility in the reproductive\nimagination. If these acts have preceded, the fixing of a name, or of a\nnumber, in which the content interesting us is as it were summed up, is\nnot difficult. When interest and attention animate us, it seems as if we\ndid not need to be at all troubled about remembering anything. All the\nso-called mnemonic helps only serve to make more difficult the act of\nmemory. This act is in itself a double function, consisting of, first,\nthe fixing of the sign, and second, the fixing of the conception\nsubsumed under it. Since the mnemonic technique adds to these one more\nconception, through whose means the things with which we have to deal\nare to be fixed in order to be able freely to express them in us, it\ntrebles the functions of remembering, and forgets that the mediation of\nthese and their relation--wholly arbitrary and highly artificial--must\nalso be remembered. The true help of memory consists in not helping it\nat all, but in simply taking up the object into the ideal regions of the\nmind by the force of the infinite self-determination which mind\npossesses.\n\n--Lists of names, as e.g. of the Roman emperors, of the popes, of the\ncaliphs, of rivers, mountains, authors, cities, &c.; also numbers, as\ne.g. the multiplication table, the melting points of minerals, the dates\nof battles, of births and deaths, &c., must be learned without aid. All\nindirect means only serve to do harm here, and are required as\nself-discovered mediation only in case that interest or attention has\nbecome weakened.--\n\n\u00a7 99. The means to be used, which result from the nature of memory\nitself, are on the one hand the pronouncing and writing of the names and\nnumbers, and on the other, repetition; by these we gain distinctness and\ncertainty.\n\n--All artificial contrivances for quickening the memory vanish in\ncomparison with the art of writing, in so far as this is not looked at\nas a means of relieving the memory. That a name or a number should be\nthis or that, is a mere chance for the intelligence, an entirely\nmeaningless accident to which we have unconditionally to submit\nourselves as unalterable. The intelligence must be accustomed to put\nupon itself this constraint. In science proper, especially in\nPhilosophy, our reason helps to produce one thought from others by means\nof the context, and we can discover names for the ideas from them.--\n\n\nIII. _The Logical Epoch._\n\n\u00a7 100. In Conception there is attained a universality of intellectual\naction in so far as the empirical details are referred to a _Schema_, as\nKant called it. But the _necessity_ of the connection is wanting to it.\nTo produce this is the task of the thinking activity, which frees itself\nfrom all representations, and with its clearly defined determinations\ntranscends conceptions. The Thinking activity frees itself from all\nsensuous representations by means of the processes of Conception and\nPerception. Comprehension, Judgment, and Syllogism, develop for\nthemselves into forms which, as such, have no power of being perceived\nby the senses. But it does not follow from this that he who thinks\ncannot return out of the thinking activity and carry it with him into\nthe sphere of Conception and Perception. The true thinking activity\ndeprives itself of no content. The abstraction affecting a logical\npurism which looks down upon Conception and Perception as forms of\nintelligence quite inferior to itself, is a pseudo-thinking, a morbid\nand scholastic error. Education will be the better on its guard against\nthis the more it has led the pupil by the legitimate road of Perception\nand Conception to Thinking. Memorizing especially is an excellent\npreparatory school for the Thinking activity, because it gives practice\nto the intelligence in exercising itself in abstract ideas.\n\n\u00a7 101. The fostering of the Sense of Truth from the earliest years up,\nis the surest way of leading the pupil to gain the power of thinking.\nThe unprejudiced, disinterested yielding to Truth, as well as the effort\nto shun all deception and false seeming, are of the greatest value in\nstrengthening the power of reflection, as this considers nothing of\nvalue but the actually existing objective circumstances.\n\n--The indulging an illusion as a pleasing recreation of the\nintelligence should be allowed, while lying must not be tolerated.\nChildren have a natural inclination for mystifications, for masquerades,\nfor raillery, and for theatrical performances, &c. This inclination to\nillusion is perfectly normal with them, and should be permitted. The\ngraceful kingdom of Art is developed from it, as also the poetry of\nconversation in jest and wit. Although this sometimes becomes\nstereotyped into very prosaic conventional forms of speech, it is more\ntolerable than the awkward honesty which takes everything in its simple\nliteral sense. And it is easy to discover whether children in such play,\nin the activity of free joyousness, incline to the side of mischief by\ntheir showing a desire of satisfying their selfish interest. Then they\nmust be checked, for in that case the cheerfulness of harmless joking\ngives way to premeditation and dissimulation.--\n\n\u00a7 102. An acquaintance with logical forms is to be recommended as a\nspecial educational help in the culture of intelligence. The study of\nMathematics does not suffice, because it presupposes Logic. Mathematics\nis related to Logic in the same way as Grammar, the Physical Sciences,\n&c. The logical forms must be known explicitly in their pure independent\nforms, and not merely in their implicit state as immanent in objective\nforms.\n\n\nSECOND CHAPTER.\n\n_The Logical Presupposition or Method._\n\n\n\u00a7 103. The logical presupposition of instruction is the order in which\nthe subject-matter develops for the consciousness. The subject, the\nconsciousness of the pupil, and the activity of the instructor,\ninterpenetrate each other in instruction, and constitute in actuality\none whole.\n\n\u00a7 104. (1) First of all, the subject which is to be learned has a\nspecific determinateness which demands in its representation a certain\nfixed order. However arbitrary we may desire to be, the subject has a\ncertain self-determination of its own which no mistreatment can wholly\ncrush out, and this inherent immortal reason is the general foundation\nof instruction.\n\n--To illustrate; however one may desire to manipulate a language in\nteaching it, he cannot change the words in it, or the inflections of the\ndeclensions and conjugations. And the same restriction is laid upon our\ninclinations in the different divisions of Natural History, in the\ntheorems of Arithmetic, Geometry, &c. The theorem of Pascal remains\nstill the theorem of Pascal, and will always remain so.--\n\n\u00a7 105. (2) But the subject must be adapted to the consciousness of the\npupil, and here the order of procedure and the exposition depend upon\nthe stage which he has reached intellectually, for the special manner of\nthe instruction must be conditioned by this. If he is in the stage of\nperception, we must use the illustrative method; if in the stage of\nconception, that of combination; and if in the stage of reflection that\nof demonstration. The first exhibits the object directly, or some\nrepresentation of it; the second considers it according to the different\npossibilities which exist in it, and turns it around on all sides; the\nthird questions the necessity of the connection in which it stands\neither with itself or with others. This is the natural order from the\nstand-point of the scientific intelligence: first, the object is\npresented to the perception; then combination presents its different\nphases; and, finally, the thinking activity circumscribes the restlessly\nmoving reflection by the idea of necessity. Experiment in the method of\ncombination is an excellent means for a discovery of relations, for a\nsharpening of the attention, for the arousing of a many-sided interest;\nbut it is no true dialectic, though it be often denoted by that name.\n\n--Illustration is especially necessary in the natural sciences and also\nin \u00e6sthetics, because in both of these departments the sensuous is an\nessential element of the matter dealt with. In this respect we have made\ngreat progress in charts and maps. Sydow's hand and wall maps and\nBerghaus's physical atlas are most excellent means of illustrative\ninstruction; also Burmeister's zo\u00f6logical atlas.--\n\n\u00a7 106. The demonstrative method, in order to bring about its proof of\nnecessity, has a choice of many different ways. But we must not imagine,\neither that there are an unlimited number, and that it is only a chance\nwhich one we shall take; or that they have no connection among\nthemselves, and run, as it were, side by side. It is not, however, the\nbusiness of Pedagogics to develop different methods of proof; this\nbelongs to Logic. We have only to remember that, logically taken, proof\nmust be analytic, synthetic, or dialectic. Analysis begins with the\nsingle one, and leads out of it by induction to the general principle\nfrom which its existence results. Synthesis, on the contrary, begins\nwith a general which is presupposed as true, and leads from this through\ndeduction to the special determinations which were implicit in it. The\nregressive search of analysis for a determining principle is\n_Invention_; the forward progress of synthesis from the simple elements\nseeking for the multiplicity of the single one is _Construction_. Each,\nin its result, passes over into the other; but their truth is found in\nthe dialectic method, which in each phase allows unity to separate into\ndiversity and diversity to return into unity. While in the analytic as\nwell as in the synthetic method the mediation of the individual with the\ngeneral, or of the general with the individual, lets the phase of\nparticularity be only subjectively connected with it in the dialectic\nmethod, we have the going over of the general through the particular to\nthe individual, or to the self-determination of the idea, and it\ntherefore rightly claims the title of the genetic method. We can also\nsay that while the inventive method gives us the idea (notion) and the\nconstructive the judgment, the genetic gives us the syllogism which\nleads the determinations of reflection back again into substantial\nidentity.\n\n\u00a7 107. (3) The active mediation of the pupil with the content which is\nto be impressed upon his consciousness is the work of the teacher, whose\npersonality creates a method adapted to the individual; for however\nclearly the subject may be defined, however exactly the psychological\nstage of the pupil may be regulated, the teacher cannot dispense with\nthe power of his own individuality even in the most objective relations.\nThis individuality must penetrate the whole with its own exposition, and\nthat peculiarity which we call his _manner_, and which cannot be\ndetermined _\u00e0 priori_, must appear. The teacher must place himself on\nthe stand-point of the pupil, i.e. must adapt himself; he must see that\nthe abstract is made clear to him in the concrete, i.e. must illustrate;\nhe must fill up the gaps which will certainly appear, and which may mar\nthe thorough seizing of the subject, i.e. must supply. In all these\nrelations the pedagogical tact of the teacher may prove itself truly\ningenious in varying the method according to the changefulness of the\never-varying needs, in contracting or expanding the extent, in stating,\nor indicating what is to be supplied. The true teacher is free from any\nsuperstitious belief in any one procedure as a sure specific which he\nfollows always in a monotonous bondage. This can only happen when he is\ncapable of the highest method. The teacher has arrived at the highest\npoint of ability in teaching when he can make use of all means, from the\nloftiness of solemn seriousness, through smooth statement, to the play\nof jest--yes, even to the incentive of irony, and to humor.\n\n--Pedagogics can be in nothing more specious than in its method, and it\nis here that charlatanism can most readily intrude itself. Every little\nchange, every inadequate modification, is proclaimed aloud as a new or\nan improved method; and even the most foolish and superficial changes\nfind at once their imitators, who themselves conceal their insolence\nbehind some frivolous differences, and, with laughable conceit, hail\nthemselves as inventors.--\n\n\nTHIRD CHAPTER.\n\n_Instruction._\n\n\n\u00a7 108. All instruction acts upon the supposition that there is an\ninequality between present knowledge and power and that knowledge and\npower which are not yet attained. To the pupil belong the first, to the\nteacher the second. Education is the act which gradually cancels the\noriginal inequality of teacher and pupil, in that it converts what was\nat first the property of the former into the property of the latter, and\nthis by means of his own activity.\n\n\nI. _The Subjects of Instruction._\n\n\u00a7 109. The pupil is the apprentice, the teacher the master, whether in\nthe practice of any craft or art, or in the exposition of any systematic\nknowledge. The pupil passes from the state of the apprentice to that of\nthe master through that of the journeyman. The apprentice has to\nappropriate to himself the elements; journeymanship begins as he, by\nmeans of their possession, becomes independent; the master combines with\nhis technical skill the freedom of production. His authority over his\npupil consists only in his knowledge and power. If he has not these, no\nexternal support, no trick of false appearances which he may put on,\nwill serve to create it for him.\n\n\u00a7 110. These stages--(1) apprenticeship, (2) journeymanship, (3)\nmastership--are fixed limitations in the didactic process; they are\nrelative only in the concrete. The standard of special excellence varies\nwith the different grades of culture, and must be varied that it may\nhave any historical value. The master is complete only in relation to\nthe journeyman and apprentice; to them he is superior. But on the other\nhand, in relation to the infinity of the problems of his art or science,\nhe is by no means complete; to himself he must always appear as one who\nbegins ever anew, one who is ever striving, one to whom a new problem\never rises from every achieved result. He cannot discharge himself from\nwork, he must never desire to rest on his laurels. He is the truest\nmaster whose finished performances only force him on to never-resting\nprogress.\n\n\u00a7 111. The real possibility of culture is found in general, it is true,\nin every human being; nevertheless, empirically, there are\ndistinguished: (1) Incapacity, as the want of all gifts; (2) Mediocrity;\n(3) Talent and Genius. It is the part of Psychology to give an account\nof all these. Mediocrity characterizes the great mass of mechanical\nintelligences, those who wait for external impulse as to what direction\ntheir endeavors shall take. Not without truth, perhaps, may we say, that\nhypothetically a special talent is given to each individual, but this\nspecial talent in many men never makes its appearance, because under the\ncircumstances in which it finds itself placed it fails to find the\nexciting occasion which shall give him the knowledge of its existence.\nThe majority of mankind are contented with the mechanical impulse which\nmakes them into something and impresses upon them certain\ndeterminations.--Talent shows itself by means of the confidence in its\nown especial productive possibility, which manifests itself as an\ninclination, as a strong impulse, to occupy itself with the special\nobject which constitutes its content. Pedagogics has no difficulty in\ndealing with mechanical natures, because their passivity is only too\nready to follow prescribed patterns. It is more difficult to manage\ntalent, because it lies between mediocrity and genius, and is therefore\nuncertain, and not only unequal to itself, but also is tossed now too\nlow, now too high, is by turns despondent and over-excited. The general\nmaxim for dealing with it is to remove no difficulty from the subject to\nwhich its efforts are directed.--Genius must be treated much in the same\nway as Talent. The difference consists only in this, that Genius, with a\nforeknowledge of its creative power, usually manifests its confidence\nwith less doubt in a special vocation, and, with a more intense thirst\nfor culture, subjects itself more willingly to the demands of\ninstruction. Genius is in its nature the purest self-determination, in\nthat it lives, in its own inner existence, the necessity which exists in\nthe thing. But it can assign to the New, which is in it already\nimmediately and subjectively, no value if this has not united itself to\nthe already existing culture as its objective presupposition, and on\nthis ground it thankfully receives instruction.\n\n\u00a7 112. But Talent and Genius offer a special difficulty to education in\nthe precocity which often accompanies them. But by precocity we do not\nmean that they early render themselves perceptible, since the early\nmanifestation of gifts by talent and genius, through their intense\nconfidence, is to be looked at as perfectly legitimate. But precocity is\nrather the hastening forward of the human being in feeling and moral\nsense, so that where in the ordinary course of nature we should have a\nchild, we have a youth, and a man in the place of a youth. We may find\nprecocity among those who belong to the class of mediocrity, but it is\ndeveloped most readily among those possessed of talent and genius,\nbecause with them the early appearance of superior gifts may very easily\nbring in its train a perversion of the feelings and the moral nature.\nEducation must deal with it in so far as it is inharmonious, so that it\nshall be stronger than the demands made on it from without, so that it\nshall not minister to vanity; and must take care, in order to accomplish\nthis, that social naturalness and lack of affectation be preserved in\nthe pupil.\n\n--Our age has to combat this precocity much more than others. We find\ne.g. authors who, at the age of thirty years, in which they publish\ntheir collected works or write their biography, are chilly with the\nfeelings of old age. Music has been the sphere in which the earliest\ndevelopment of talent has shown itself, and here we find the absurdity\nthat the cupidity of parents has so forced precocious talents that\nchildren of four or five years of age have been made to appear in\npublic.--\n\n\u00a7 113. Every sphere of culture contains a certain quantity of\nknowledge and ready skill which may be looked at, as it were, as the\ncreated result of the culture. It is to be wished that every one who\nturns his attention to a certain line of culture could take up into\nhimself the gathered learning which controls it. In so far as he does\nthis, he is professional. The consciousness that one has in the usual\nway gone through a school of art or science, and has, with the general\ninheritance of acquisition, been handed over to a special department,\ncreates externally a beneficial composure which is very favorable to\ninternal progress. We must distinguish from the professional the amateur\nand the self-taught man. The amateur busies himself with an art, a\nscience, or a trade, without having gone through any strict training in\nit. As a rule, he dispenses with elementary thoroughness, and hastens\ntowards the pleasure which the joy of production gives. The conscious\namateur confesses this himself, makes no pretension to mastership, and\ncalls himself--in distinction from the professional, who subjects\nhimself to rules--an unlearned person. But sometimes the amateur, on the\ncontrary, covers over his weakness, cherishes in himself the\nself-conceit that he is equal to the heroes of his art or science,\nconstitutes himself the first admirer of his own performances, seeks for\ntheir want of recognition in external motives, never in their own want\nof excellence; and, if he has money, or edits a paper, is intoxicated\nwith being the patron of talent which produces such works as he would\nwillingly produce or pretends to produce. The self-taught man has often\ntrue talent, or even genius, to whose development nevertheless the\ninherited culture has been denied, and who by good fortune has through\nhis own strength worked his way into a field of effort. The self-taught\nman is distinguished from the amateur by the thoroughness and the\nindustry with which he acts; he is not only equally unfortunate with him\nin the absence of school-training, but is much less endowed. Even if the\nself-taught man has for years studied and practised much, he is still\nhaunted by a feeling of uncertainty as to whether he has yet reached the\nstand-point at which a science, an art, or a trade, will receive him\npublicly--of so very great consequence is it that man should be\ncomprehended and recognized by man. The self-taught man therefore\nremains embarrassed, and does not free himself from the apprehension\nthat he may expose some weak point to a professional, or he falls into\nthe other extreme--he becomes presumptuous, steps forth as a reformer,\nand, if he accomplishes nothing, or earns only ridicule, he sets himself\ndown as an unrecognized martyr by an unappreciative and unjust world.\n\n--It is possible that the amateur may transcend the stage of\nsuperficiality and subject himself to a thorough training; then he\nceases to be an amateur. It is also possible that the self-taught man\nmay be on the right track, and may accomplish as much or even more than\none trained in the usual way. In general, however, it is very desirable\nthat every one should go through the regular course of the inherited\nmeans of education, partly that he may be thorough in the elements,\npartly to free him from the anxiety which he may feel lest he in his\nsolitary efforts spend labor on some superfluous work--superfluous\nbecause done long before, and of which he, through the accident of his\nwant of culture, had not heard. We must all learn by ourselves, but we\ncannot teach ourselves. Only Genius can do this, for it must be its own\nleader in the new paths which it opens. Genius alone passes beyond where\ninherited culture ceases. It bears this in itself as of the past, and\nwhich it uses as material for its new creation; but the self-taught man,\nwho would very willingly be a genius, puts himself in an attitude of\nopposition to things already accomplished, or sinks into oddity, into\nsecret arts and sciences, &c.--\n\n\u00a7 114. These ideas of the general steps of culture, of special gifts,\nand of the ways of culture appropriate to each, which we have above\ndistinguished, have a manifold connection among themselves which cannot\nbe established _\u00e0 priori_. We can however remark that Apprenticeship,\nthe Mechanical Intelligence, and the Professional life; secondly,\nJourneymanship, Talent, and Amateurship; and, finally, Mastership,\nGenius, and Self Education, have a relationship to each other.\n\n\nII. _The Act of Learning._\n\n\u00a7 115. In the process of education the interaction between pupil and\nteacher must be so managed that the exposition by the teacher shall\nexcite in the pupil the impulse to reproduction. The teacher must not\ntreat his exposition as if it were a work of art which is its own end\nand aim, but he must always bear in mind the need of the pupil. The\nartistic exposition, as such, will, by its completeness, produce\nadmiration; but the didactic, on the contrary, will, through its perfect\nadaptation, call out the imitative instinct, the power of new creation.\n\n--From this consideration we may justify the frequent statement that is\nmade, that teachers who have really an elegant diction do not really\naccomplish so much as others who resemble in their statements not so\nmuch a canal flowing smoothly between straight banks, as a river which\nworks its foaming way over rocks and between ever-winding banks. The\npupil perceives that the first is considering himself when he speaks so\nfinely, perhaps not without some self-appreciation; and that the second,\nin the repetitions and the sentences which are never finished, is\nconcerning himself solely with _him_. The pupil feels that not want of\nfacility or awkwardness, but the earnest eagerness of the _teacher_, is\nthe principal thing, and that this latter uses rhetoric only as a\nmeans.--\n\n\u00a7 116. In the act of learning there appears (1) a mechanical element,\n(2) a dynamic element, and (3) one in which the dynamic again\nmechanically strengthens itself.\n\n\u00a7 117. As to the mechanical element, the right time must be chosen for\neach lesson, an exact arrangement observed, and the suitable apparatus,\nwhich is necessary, procured. It is in the arrangement that especially\nconsists the educational power of the lesson. The spirit of\nscrupulousness, of accuracy, of neatness, is developed by the external\ntechnique, which is carefully arranged in its subordinate parts\naccording to its content. The teacher must therefore insist upon it that\nwork shall cease at the exact time, that the work be well done, &c., for\non these little things many greater things ethically depend.\n\n--To choose one's time for any work is often difficult because of the\npressure of a multitude of demands, but in general it should be\ndetermined that the strongest and keenest energy of the thinking\nactivity and of memory--this being demanded by the work--should have\nappropriated to it the first half of the day.--\n\n\u00a7 118. The dynamical element consists of the previously developed power\nof Attention, without which all the exposition made by the teacher to\nthe pupil remains entirely foreign to him, all apparatus is dead, all\narrangement of no avail, all teaching fruitless, if the pupil does not\nby his free activity receive into his inner self what one teaches him,\nand thus make it his own property.\n\n\u00a7 119. This appropriation must not limit itself, however, to the first\nacquisition of any knowledge or skill, but it must give free existence\nto whatever the pupil has learned; it must make it perfectly manageable\nand natural, so that it shall appear to be a part of himself. This must\nbe brought about by means of Repetition. This will mechanically secure\nthat which the attention first grasped.\n\n\u00a7 120. The careful, persistent, living activity of the pupil in these\nacts we call Industry. Its negative extreme is Laziness, which is\ndeserving of punishment inasmuch as it passes over into a want of\nself-determination. Man is by nature lazy. But mind, which is only in\nits act, must resolve upon activity. This connection of Industry with\nhuman freedom, with the very essence of mind, makes laziness appear\nblameworthy. The really civilized man, therefore, no longer knows that\nabsolute inaction which is the greatest enjoyment to the barbarian, and\nhe fills up his leisure with a variety of easier and lighter work. The\npositive extreme of Industry is the unreasonable activity which rushes\nin breathless chase from one action to another, from this to that,\nstraining the person with the immense quantity of his work. Such an\nactivity, going beyond itself and seldom reaching deliberation, is\nunworthy of a man. It destroys the agreeable quiet which in all industry\nshould penetrate and inspire the deed. Nothing is more repulsive than\nthe beggarly pride of such stupid laboriousness. One should not endure\nfor a moment to have the pupil, seeking for distinction, begin to pride\nhimself on an extra industry. Education must accustom him to use a\nregular assiduity. The frame of mind suitable for work often does not\nexist at the time when work should begin, but more frequently it makes\nits appearance after we have begun. The subject takes its own time to\nawaken us. Industry, inspired by a love and regard for work, has in its\nquiet uniformity a great force, without which no one can accomplish\nanything essential. The world, therefore, holds Industry worthy of\nhonor; and to the Romans, a nation of the most persistent perseverance,\nwe owe the inspiring words, \"_Incepto tantum opus est, c\u00e6tera res\nexpediet_\"; and, \"_Labor improbus omnia vincit_.\"\n\n--\"Every one may glory in his industry!\" This is a true word from the\nlips of a truly industrious man, who was also one of the most modest.\nBut Lessing did not, however, mean by them to charter Pharisaical\npedantry. The necessity sometimes of giving one's self to an excess of\nwork injurious to the health, generally arises from the fact that he has\nnot at other times made use of the requisite attention to the necessary\nindustry, and then attempts suddenly and as by a forced march to storm\nhis way to his end. The result of such over-exertion is naturally entire\nprostration. The pupil is therefore to be accustomed to a generally\nuniform industry, which may extend itself at regular intervals without\nhis thereby overstraining himself. What is really gained by a young man\nwho has hitherto neglected time and opportunity, and who, when\nexamination presses, overworks himself, perhaps standing the test with\nhonor, and then must rest for months afterwards from the over-effort? On\nall such occasions attention is not objective and dispassionate, but\nrather becomes, through anxiety to pass the examination, restless and\ncorrupted by egotism; and the usual evil result of such compulsory\nindustry is the ephemeral character of the knowledge thus gained.\n\"Lightly come, lightly go,\" says the proverb.--\n\n--A special worth is always attached to study far into the night. The\nstudent's \"midnight lamp\" always claims for itself a certain veneration.\nBut this is vanity. In the first place, it is injurious to contradict\nNature by working through the night, which she has ordained for sleep;\nsecondly, the question is not as to the number of hours spent in work\nand their position in the twenty-four, but as to the quality of the\nwork. With regard to the value of my work, it is of no moment whatsoever\nwhether I have done it in the morning or in the evening, or how long I\nhave labored, and it is of no consequence to any one except to my own\nvery unimportant self. Finally, the question presents itself whether\nthese gentlemen who boast so much of their midnight work do not sleep in\nthe daytime!--\n\n\u00a7 121. But Industry has also two other extremes: seeming-laziness and\nseeming-industry. Seeming-laziness is the neglecting of the usual\nactivity in one department because a man is so much more active in\nanother. The mind possessed with the liveliest interest in one subject\nburies itself in it, and, because of this, cannot give itself up to\nanother which before had engrossed the attention. Thus it appears more\nidle than it is, or rather it appears to be idle just because it is more\nindustrious. This is especially the case in passing from one subject of\ninstruction to another. The pupil should acquire such a flexibility in\nhis intellectual powers that the rapid relinquishment of one subject and\nthe taking up of another should not be too difficult. Nothing is more\nnatural than that when he is excited he should go back to the subject\nthat has just been presented to him, and that he, feeling himself\nrestrained, shall remain untouched by the following lesson, which may be\nof an entirely different nature. The young soul is brooding over what\nhas been said, and is really exercising an intensive activity, though it\nappears to be idle. But in seeming-industry all the external motives of\nactivity, all the mechanism of work, manifest themselves noisily, while\nthere is no true energy of attention and productivity. One busies\nhimself with all the apparatus of work; he heaps up instruments and\nbooks around him; he sketches plans; he spends many hours staring into\nvacancy, biting his pen, gazing at words, drawings, numbers, &c. Boys,\nunder the protection of so great a scaffolding for work erected around\nthem, often carry on their own amusements. Men, who arrive at no real\nconcentration of their force, no clear defining of their vocation, no\nfirm decision as to their action, dissipate their power in what is too\noften a great activity with absolutely no result. They are busy, very\nbusy; they have hardly time to do this thing because they really wish or\nought to do that; but, with all their driving, their energy is all\ndissipated, and nothing comes from their countless labors.\n\n\nIII. _The Modality of the Process of Teaching._\n\n\u00a7 122. Now that we have learned something of the relation of the teacher\nto the taught, and of the process of learning itself, we must examine\nthe mode and manner of instruction. This may have (1) the character of\ncontingency: the way in which our immediate existence in the world, our\nlife, teaches us; or it may be given (2) by the printed page; or (3) it\nmay take the shape of formal oral instruction.\n\n\u00a7 123. (1) For the most, the best, and the mightiest things that we know\nwe are indebted to Life itself. The sum of perceptions which a human\nbeing absorbs into himself up to the fourth or fifth year of his life is\nincalculable; and after this time we involuntarily gain by immediate\ncontact with the world countless ideas. But especially we understand by\nthe phrase \"the School of Life,\" the ethical knowledge which we gain by\nwhat happens in our own lives.\n\n--If one says, _Vit\u00e6 non schol\u00e6 discendum est_, one can also say, _Vita\ndocet_. Without the power exercised by the immediate world our\nintelligence would remain abstract and lifeless.--\n\n\u00a7 124. (2) What we learn through books is the opposite of that which we\nlearn through living. Life _forces_ upon us the knowledge it has to\ngive; the book, on the contrary, is entirely passive. It is locked up in\nitself; it cannot be altered; but it waits by us till we wish to use it.\nWe can read it rapidly or slowly; we can simply turn over its\nleaves--what in modern times one calls reading;--we can read it from\nbeginning to end or from end to beginning; we can stop, begin again,\nskip over passages, or cut them short, as we like. To this extent the\nbook is the most _convenient_ means for instruction. If we are indebted\nto Life for our perceptions, we must chiefly thank books for our\nunderstanding of our perceptions. We call book-instruction \"dead\" when\nit lacks, for the exposition which it gives, a foundation in our\nperceptions, or when we do not add to the printed description the\nperceptions which it implies; and the two are quite different.\n\n\u00a7 125. Books, as well as life, teach us many things which we did not\npreviously intend to learn directly from them. From foreign romances\ne.g. we learn, first of all, while we read them for entertainment, the\nforeign language, history or geography, &c. We must distinguish from\nsuch books as those which bring to us, as it were accidentally, a\nknowledge for which we were not seeking, the books which are expressly\nintended to instruct. These must (_a_) in their consideration of the\nsubject give us the principal results of any department of knowledge,\nand denote the points from which the next advance must be made, because\nevery science arises at certain results which are themselves again new\nproblems; (_b_) in the consideration of the particulars it must be\nexhaustive, i.e. no essential elements of a science must be omitted. But\nthis exhaustiveness of execution has different meanings according to the\nstand-points of those for whom it is made. How far we shall pass from\nthe universality of the principal determinations into the multiplicity\nof the Particular, into the fulness of detail, cannot be definitely\ndetermined, and must vary, according to the aim of the book, as to\nwhether it is intended for the apprentice, the journeyman, or the\nmaster; (_c_) the expression must be precise, i.e. the maximum of\nclearness must be combined with the maximum of brevity.\n\n--The writing of a text-book is on this account one of the most\ndifficult tasks, and it can be successfully accomplished only by those\nwho are masters in a science or art, and who combine with great culture\nand talent great experience as teachers. Unfortunately many dabblers in\nknowledge undervalue the difficulty of writing text-books because they\nthink that they are called upon to aid in the spread of science, and\nbecause the writing of compendiums has thus come to be an avocation, so\nthat authors and publishers have made out of text-books a profitable\nbusiness and good incomes. In all sciences and arts there exists a\nquantity of material which is common property, which is disposed of now\nin one way, now in another. The majority of compendiums can be\ndistinguished from each other only by the kind of paper, printing, the\nname of the publisher or bookseller, or by arbitrary changes in the\narrangement and execution. The want of principle with which this work is\ncarried on is incredible. Many governments have on this account fixed\nprices for text-books, and commissioners to select them. This in itself\nis right and proper, but the use of any book should be left optional, so\nthat the one-sidedness of a science patronized by government as it were\npatented, may not be created through the pressure of such introduction.\nA state may through its censorship oppose poor text-books, and recommend\ngood ones; but it may not establish as it were a state-science, a\nstate-art, in which only the ideas, laws and forms sanctioned by it\nshall be allowed. The Germans are fortunate, in consequence of their\nphilosophical criticism, in the production of better and better\ntext-books, among which may be mentioned Koberstein's, Gervinus', and\nVilmar's Histories of Literature, Ellendt's General History,\nBlumenbach's and Burmeister's Natural History, Marheineke's text-book on\nReligion, Schwegler's History of Philosophy, &c. So much the more\nunaccountable is it that, with such excellent books, the evil of such\ncharacterless books, partly inadequate and partly in poor style, should\nstill exist when there is no necessity for it. The common style of\nparagraph-writing has become obnoxious, under the name of\nCompendium-style, as the most stiff and affected style of writing.--\n\n\u00a7 126. A text-book must be differently written according as it is\nintended for a book for private study or for purposes of general\ncirculation. If the first, it must give more, and must develop more\nclearly the internal relations; if the second, it should be shorter, and\nproceed from axiomatic and clear postulates to their signification, and\nthese must have an epigrammatic pureness which should leave something to\nbe guessed. Because for these a commentary is needed which it is the\nteacher's duty to supply, such a sketch is usually accompanied by the\nfuller text-book which was arranged for private study.\n\n--It is the custom to call the proper text-book the \"small\" one, and\nthat which explains and illustrates, the \"large\" one. Thus we have the\nSmall and the Large Gervinus, &c.--\n\n\u00a7 127. (3) The text-book which presupposes oral explanation forms the\ntransition to Oral instruction itself. Since speech is the natural and\noriginal form in which mind manifests itself, no book can rival it. The\nliving word is the most powerful agent of instruction. However common\nand cheap printing may have rendered books as the most convenient means\nof education--however possible may have become, through the\nmultiplication of facilities for intercourse and the rapidity of\ntransportation, the immediate viewing of human life, the most forcible\neducational means, nevertheless the living word still asserts its\nsupremacy. In two cases especially is it indispensable: one is when some\nknowledge is to be communicated which as yet is found in no compendium,\nand the other when a living language is to be taught, for in this case\nthe printed page is entirely inadequate. One can learn from books to\nunderstand Spanish, French, English, Danish, &c., but not to speak them;\nto do this he must hear them, partly that his ear may become accustomed\nto the sounds, partly that his vocal organs may learn correctly to\nimitate them.\n\n\u00a7 128. Life surprises and overpowers us with the knowledge which it\ngains; the book, impassive, waits our convenience; the teacher, superior\nto us, perfectly prepared in comparison with us, consults our necessity,\nand with his living speech uses a gentle force to which we can yield\nwithout losing our freedom. Listening is easier than reading.\n\n--Sovereigns e.g. seldom read themselves, but have servants who read to\nthem.--\n\n\u00a7 129. Oral instruction may (1) give the subject, which is to\nbe learned, in a connected statement, or (2) it may unfold it by means\nof question and answer. The first decidedly presupposes the theoretical\ninequality of the teacher and the taught. Because one can speak while\nmany can listen, this is especially adapted to the instruction of large\nnumbers. The second method is either that of the catechism or the\ndialogue. The catechetical is connected with the first kind of oral\ninstruction above designated because it makes demand upon the memory of\nthe learner only for the answer to one question at a time, and is hence\nvery often and very absurdly called the Socratic method. In teaching by\nmeans of the dialogue, we try, by means of a reciprocal interchange of\nthought, to solve in common some problem, proceeding according to the\nnecessary forms of reason. But in this we can make a distinction. One\nspeaker may be superior to the rest, may hold in his own hand the thread\nof the conversation and may guide it himself; or, those who mingle in it\nmay be perfectly equal in intellect and culture, and may each take part\nin the development with equal independence. In this latter case, this\ntrue reciprocity gives us the proper dramatic dialogue, which contains\nin itself all forms of exposition, and may pass from narration,\ndescription, and analysis, through satire and irony, to veritable humor.\nWhen it does this, the dialogue is the loftiest result of intelligence\nand the means of its purest enjoyment.\n\n--This alternate teaching, in which the one who has been taught takes\nthe teacher's place, can be used only where there is a content which\nadmits of a mechanical treatment. The Hindoos made use of it in very\nancient times. Bell and Lancaster have transplanted it for the teaching\nof poor children in Europe and America. For the teaching of the\nconventionalities--reading, writing, and arithmetic--as well as for the\nlearning by heart of names, sentences, &c., it suffices, but not for any\nscientific culture. Where we have large numbers to instruct, the giving\nof the fully developed statement (the first form) is necessary, since\nthe dialogue, though it may be elsewhere suitable, allows only a few to\ntake part in it. And if we take the second form, we must, if we have a\nlarge number of pupils, make use of the catechetical method only. What\nis known as the conversational method has been sometimes suggested for\nour university instruction. Diesterweg in Berlin insists upon it. Here\nand there the attempt has been made, but without any result. In the\nuniversity, the lecture of the teacher as a self-developing whole is\ncontrasted with the scientific discussion of the students, in which they\nas equals work over with perfect freedom what they have heard.\nDiesterweg was wrong in considering the lecture-system as the principal\ncause of the lack of scientific interest which he thought he perceived\nin our universities. Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Schleiermacher, Wolf,\nNiebuhr, &c., taught by lectures and awakened the liveliest enthusiasm.\nBut Diesterweg is quite right in saying that the students should not be\ndegraded to writing-machines. But this is generally conceded, and a\npedantic amount of copying more and more begins to be considered as out\nof date at our universities. Nevertheless, a new pedantry, that of the\nwholly extempore lecture, should not be introduced; but a brief summary\nof the extempore unfolding of the lecture may be dictated and serve a\nvery important purpose, or the lecture may be copied. The great efficacy\nof the oral exposition does not so much consist in the fact that it is\nperfectly free, as that it presents to immediate view a person who has\nmade himself the bearer of a science or an art, and has found what\nconstitutes its essence. Its power springs, above all, from the\ngenuineness of the lecture, the originality of its content, and the\nelegance of its form: whether it is written or extemporized, is a matter\nof little moment. Niebuhr e.g. read, word for word, from his manuscript,\nand what a teacher was he!--The catechetical way of teaching is not\ndemanded at the university except in special examinations; it belongs to\nthe private work of the student, who must learn to be industrious of his\nown free impulse. The private tutor can best conduct reviews.--The\ninstitution which presupposing the lecture-system combines in itself\noriginal production with criticism, and the connected exposition with\nthe conversation, is the _seminary_. It pursues a well-defined path, and\nconfines itself to a small circle of associates whose grades of culture\nare very nearly the same. Here, therefore, can the dialogue be strongly\ndeveloped because it has a fixed foundation, and each one can take part\nin the conversation; whereas, from the variety of opinions among a great\nnumber, it is easily perverted into an aimless talk, and the majority of\nthe hearers, who have no chance to speak, become weary.--\n\n\u00a7 130. As to the way in which the lecture is carried out, it may be so\narranged as to give the whole stock of information acquired, or, without\nbeing so exact and so complete, it may bring to its elucidation only a\nrelatively inexact and general information. The ancients called the\nfirst method the esoteric and the second the exoteric, as we give to\nsuch lectures now, respectively, the names _scholastic_ and _popular_.\nThe first makes use of terms which have become technical in science or\nart, and proceeds syllogistically to combine the isolated ideas; the\nsecond endeavors to substitute for technicalities generally understood\nsigns, and conceals the exactness of the formal conclusion by means of a\nconversational style. It is possible to conceive of a perfectly\nmethodical treatment of a science which at the same time shall be\ngenerally comprehensible if it strives to attain the transparency of\nreal beauty. A scientific work of art may be correctly said to be\npopular, as e.g. has happened to Herder's _Ideas on the Philosophy of\nthe History of Mankind_.\n\n--Beauty is the element which is comprehended by all, and as we declare\nour enmity to the distorted picture-books, books of amusement, and to\nthe mischievous character of \"Compendiums,\" so we must also oppose the\npopular publications which style themselves _Science made Easy_, &c., in\norder to attract more purchasers by this alluring title. Kant in his\n_Logic_ calls the extreme of explanation Pedantry and Gallantry. This\nlast expression would be very characteristic in our times, since one\nattains the height of popularity now if he makes himself easily\nintelligible to ladies--a didactic triumph which one attains only by\nomitting everything that is profound or complicated, and saying only\nwhat exists already in the consciousness of every one, by depriving the\nsubject dealt with of all seriousness, and sparing neither pictures,\nanecdotes, jokes, nor pretty formalities of speech. Elsewhere Kant says:\n\"In the effort to produce in our knowledge the completeness of scholarly\nthoroughness, and at the same time a popular character, without in the\neffort falling into the above-mentioned errors of an affected\nthoroughness or an affected popularity, we must, first of all, look out\nfor the scholarly completeness of our scientific knowledge, the\nmethodical form of thoroughness, and first ask how we can make really\npopular the knowledge methodically acquired at school, i.e. how we can\nmake it easy and generally communicable, and yet at the same time not\nsupplant thoroughness by popularity. For scholarly completeness must not\nbe sacrificed to popularity to please the people, unless science is to\nbecome a plaything or trifling.\" It is perfectly plain that all that was\nsaid before of the psychological and the logical methods must be taken\ninto account in the manner of the statement.--\n\n\u00a7 131. It has been already remarked (\u00a7 21), in speaking of the nature\nof education, that the office of the instructor must necessarily vary\nwith the growing culture. But attention must here again be called to the\nfact, that education, in whatever stage of culture, must conform to the\nlaw which, as the internal logic of Being, determines all objective\ndevelopments of nature and of history. The Family gives the child his\nfirst instruction; between this and the school comes the teaching of the\ntutor; the school stands independently as the antithesis of the family,\nand presents three essentially different forms according as it imparts a\ngeneral preparatory instruction, or special teaching for different\ncallings, or a universal scientific cultivation. Universality passes\nover through particularizing into individuality, which contains both the\ngeneral and the particular freely in itself. All citizens of a state\nshould have (1) a general education which (_a_) makes them familiar with\nreading, writing, and arithmetic, these being the means of all\ntheoretical culture; then (_b_) hands over to them a picture of the\nworld in its principal phases, so that they as citizens of the world can\nfind their proper status on our planet; and, finally, it must (_c_)\ninstruct him in the history of his own state, so that he may see that\nthe circumstances in which he lives are the result of a determined past\nin its connection with the history of the rest of the world, and so may\nlearn rightly to estimate the interests of his own country in view of\ntheir necessary relation to the future. This work the elementary schools\nhave to perform. From this, through the _Realschule_ (our scientific\nHigh School course) they pass into the school where some particular\nbranch of science is taught, and through the Gymnasium (classical course\nof a High School or College) to the University. From its general basis\ndevelop (2) the educational institutions that work towards some special\neducation which leads over to the exercise of some art. These we call\nTechnological schools, where one may learn farming, mining, a craft, a\ntrade, navigation, war, &c. This kind of education may be specialized\nindefinitely with the growth of culture, because any one branch is\ncapable in its negative aspect of such educational separation, as e.g.\nin foundling hospitals and orphan asylums, in blind and deaf and dumb\ninstitutions. The abstract universality of the Elementary school and the\none-sided particularity of the Technological school, however, is\nsubsumed under a concrete universality, which, without aiming directly\nat utility, treats science and art on all sides as their own end and\naim. _Scientia est potentia_, said Lord Bacon. Practical utility results\nindirectly through the progress which Scientific Cognition makes in this\nfree attitude, because it collects itself out of the dissipation through\nmanifold details into a universal idea and attains a profounder insight\nthereby. This organism for the purpose of instruction is properly called\na University. By it the educational organization is perfected.\n\n--It is essentially seen that no more than these three types of schools\ncan exist, and that they must all exist in a perfectly organized\ncivilization. Their titles and the plan of their special teaching may be\nvery different among different nations and at different times, but this\nneed not prevent the recognition in them of the ideas which determine\nthem. Still less should the imperfect ways in which they manifest\nthemselves induce us to condemn them. It is the modern tendency to\nundervalue the University as an institution which we had inherited from\nthe middle ages, and with which we could at present dispense. This is an\nerror. The university presents just as necessary a form of instruction\nas the elementary school or the technological school. Not the abolition\nof the university, but a reform which shall adapt it to the spirit of\nthe age, is the advance which we have to make. That there are to be\nfound outside of the university men of the most thorough and elegant\nculture, who can give the most excellent instruction in a science or an\nart, is most certain. But it is a characteristic of the university in\nits teaching to do away with contingency which is unavoidable in case of\nprivate voluntary efforts. The university presents an organic,\nself-conscious, encyclop\u00e6dic representation of all the sciences, and\nthus is created to a greater or less degree an intellectual atmosphere\nwhich no other place can give. Through this, all sciences and their aims\nare seen as of equal authority--a personal stress is laid upon the\nconnection of the sciences. The imperfections of a university, which\narise through the rivalry of external ambition, through the necessity of\nfinancial success, through the jealousy of different parties, through\nscholarships, &c., are finitudes which it has in common with all human\ninstitutions, and on whose account they are not all to be thrown\naway.--Art academies are for Art what universities are for Science. They\nare inferior to them in so far as they appear more under the form of\nspecial schools, as schools of architecture, of painting, and\nconservatories of music; while really it may well be supposed that\nArchitecture, Sculpture, Painting, Music, the Orchestra, and the Drama,\nare, like the Sciences, bound together in a _Universitas artium_, and\nthat by means of their internal reciprocal action new results would\nfollow.--Academies, as isolated master-schools, which follow no\nparticular line of teaching, are entirely superfluous, and serve only as\na _Prytaneum_ for meritorious scholars, and to reward industry through\nthe prizes which they offer. In their idea they belong with the\nuniversity, this appearing externally in the fact that most of their\nmembers are university professors. But as institutions for ostentation\nby which the ambition of the learned was flattered, and to surround\nprinces with scientific glory as scientific societies attached to a\ncourt, they have lost all significance. They ceased to flourish with the\nPtolemies and the Egyptian caliphs, and with absolute monarchical\ngovernments.--In modern times we have passed beyond the abstract\njealousy of the so-called Humanities and the Natural Sciences, because\nwe comprehend that each part of the totality can be realized in a proper\nsense only by its development as relatively independent. Thus the\n_gymnasium_ has its place as that elementary school which through a\ngeneral culture, by means of the knowledge of the language and history\nof the Greeks and Romans, prepares for the university; while, on the\nother hand, the _Realschule_, by special attention to Natural Science\nand the living languages, constitutes the transition to the\ntechnological schools. Nevertheless, because the university embraces the\nScience of Nature, of Technology, of Trade, of Finance, and of\nStatistics, the pupils who have graduated from the so-called high\nschools (_h\u00f6hern B\u00fcrgerschulen_) and from the _Realschulen_ will be\nbrought together at the university.--\n\n\u00a7 132. The technique of the school will be determined in its details by\nthe peculiarity of its aim. But in general every school, no matter what\nit teaches, ought to have some system of rules and regulations by which\nthe relation of the pupil to the institution, of the pupils to each\nother, their relation to the teacher, and that of the teachers to each\nother as well as to the supervisory authority, the programme of lessons,\nthe apparatus, of the changes of work and recreation, shall be clearly\nset forth. The course of study must be arranged so as to avoid two\nextremes: on the one hand, it has to keep in view the special aim of the\nschool, and according to this it tends to contract itself. But, on the\nother hand, it must consider the relative dependence of one specialty to\nother specialties and to general culture. It must leave the transition\nfree, and in this it tends to expand itself. The difficulty is here so\nto assign the limits that the special task of the school shall not be\nsacrificed and deprived of the means of performance which it (since it\nis also always only a part of the whole culture) receives by means of\nits reciprocal action with other departments. The programme must assign\nthe exact amount of time which can be appropriated to every study. It\nmust prescribe the order in which they shall follow each other; it must,\nas far as possible, unite kindred subjects, so as to avoid the useless\nrepetition which dulls the charm of study; it must, in determining the\norder, bear in mind at the same time the necessity imposed by the\nsubject itself and the psychological progression of intelligence from\nperception, through conception, to the thinking activity which grasps\nall. It must periodically be submitted to revision, so that all matter\nwhich has, through the changed state of general culture, become out of\ndate, may be rejected, and that that which has proved itself inimitable\nmay be appropriated; in general, so that it may be kept up to the\nrequirements of the times. And, finally, the school must, by\nexaminations and reports, aid the pupil in the acquirement of a\nknowledge of his real standing. The examination lets him know what he\nhas really learned, and what he is able to do: the report gives him an\naccount of his culture, exhibits to him in what he has made improvement\nand in what he has fallen behind, what defects he has shown, what\ntalents he has displayed, what errors committed, and in what relation\nstands his theoretical development to his ethical status.\n\n--The opposition of the _Gymnasia_ to the demands of the agricultural\ncommunities is a very interesting phase of educational history. They\nwere asked to widen their course so as to embrace Mathematics, Physics,\nNatural History, Geography, and the modern languages. At first they\nstoutly resisted; then they made some concessions; finally, the more\nthey made the more they found themselves in contradiction with their\ntrue work, and so they produced as an independent correlate the\n_Realschule_. After this was founded, the gymnasium returned to its old\nplan, and is now again able to place in the foreground the pursuit of\nclassical literature and history. It was thus set free from demands made\nupon it which were entirely foreign to its nature.--The examination is,\non one side, so adapted to the pupil as to make him conscious of his own\ncondition. As to its external side, it determines whether the pupil\nshall pass from one class to another or from one school to another, or\nit decides whether the school as a whole shall give a public\nexhibition--an exhibition which ought to have no trace of ostentation,\nbut which in fact is often tinctured with pedagogical charlatanism.--\n\n\u00a7 133. The Direction of the school on the side of science must be held\nby the school itself, for the process of the intellect in acquiring\nscience, the progress of the method, the determinations of the subject\nmatter and the order of its development, have their own laws, to which\nInstruction must submit itself if it would attain its end. The school is\nonly one part of the whole of culture. In itself it divides into\nmanifold departments, together constituting a great organism which in\nmanifold ways comes into contact with the organism of the state. So long\nas teaching is of a private character, so long as it is the reciprocal\nrelation of one individual to another, or so long as it is shut up\nwithin the circle of the family and belongs to it alone, so long it has\nno objective character. It receives this first when it grows to a\nschool. As in history, its first form must have a religious character;\nbut this first form, in time, disappears. Religion is the absolute\nrelation of man to God which subsumes all other relations. In so far as\nReligion exists in the form of a church, those who are members of the\nsame church may have instruction given on the nature of religion among\nthemselves. Instruction on the subject is proper, and it is even\nenjoined upon them as a law--as a duty. But further than their own\nsociety they may not extend their rule. The church may exert itself to\nmake a religious spirit felt in the school and to make it penetrate all\nthe teaching; but it may not presume, because it has for its subject the\nabsolute interest of men, the interest which is superior to all others,\nto determine also the other objects of Education or the method of\ntreating them. The technical acquisitions of Reading, Writing and\nArithmetic, Drawing and Music, the Natural Sciences, Mathematics, Logic,\nAnthropology and Psychology, the practical sciences of finance and the\nmunicipal regulations, have no direct relation to religion. If we\nattempt to establish one, there inevitably appears in them a morbid\nstate which destroys them; not only so, but piety itself disappears, for\nthese accomplishments and this knowledge are not included in its idea.\n\n--Such treatment of Art and Science may be well-meant, but it is always\nan error. It may even make a ludicrous impression, which is a very\ndangerous thing for the authority of religion. If a church has\nestablished schools, it must see to it that all which is there taught\noutside of the religious instruction, i.e. all of science and art, shall\nhave no direct connection with it as a religious institution.--\n\n\u00a7 134. The Church, as the external manifestation of religion, is\nconcerned with the absolute relation of man, the relation to God,\nspecial in itself as opposed to his other relations; the State, on the\ncontrary, seizes the life of a nation according to its _explicit\ntotality_. The State should conduct the education of all its citizens.\nTo it, then, the church can appear only as a school, for the church\ninstructs its own people concerning the nature of religion, partly by\nteaching proper, that of the catechism, partly in quite as edifying a\nway, by preaching. From this point of view, the State can look upon the\nchurch only as one of those schools which prepare for a special\navocation. The church appears to the State as that school which assumes\nthe task of educating the religious element. Just as little as the\nchurch should the state attempt to exercise any influence over Science\nand Art. In this they are exactly alike, and must acknowledge the\nnecessity which both Science and Art contain within themselves and by\nwhich they determine themselves. The laws of Logic, Mathematics,\nAstronomy, Morals, \u00c6sthetics, Physiology, &c., are entirely independent\nof the state. It can decree neither discoveries nor inventions. The\nstate in its relations to science occupies the same ground as it should\ndo with relation to the freedom of self-consciousness. It is true that\nthe church teaches man, but it demands from him at the same time belief\nin the truth of its dogmas. It rests, as the real church, on presupposed\nauthority, and sinks finally all contradictions which may be found in\nthe absolute mystery of the existence of God. The state, on the\ncontrary, elaborates its idea into the form of laws, i.e. into general\ndeterminations, of whose necessity it convinces itself. It seeks to give\nto these laws the clearest possible form, so that every one may\nunderstand them. It concedes validity only to that which can be proved,\nand sentences the individual according to the external side of the\n_deed_ (overt act) not, as the church does, on its internal side--that\nof _intention_. Finally, it demands in him consciousness of his deed,\nbecause it makes each one responsible for his own deed. It has,\ntherefore, the same principle with science, for the proof of necessity\nand the unity of consciousness with its object constitute the essence of\nscience. Since the state embraces the school as one of its educational\norganisms, it is from its very nature especially called upon to guide\nits regulation in accordance with the manifestation of consciousness.\n\n[Sidenote: _The Modality of the Process of Teaching._]\n\n--The church calls this \"profanation.\" One might say that the church,\nwith its mystery of Faith, always represents the absolute problem of\nscience, while the state, as to its form, coincides with science.\nWhenever the state abandons the strictness of proof--when it begins to\nmeasure the individual citizen by his intention and not by his deed,\nand, in place of the clear insight of the comprehending consciousness,\nsets up the psychological compulsion of a hollow mechanical authority,\nit destroys itself.--\n\n\u00a7 135. Neither the church nor the state should attempt to control the\nschool in its internal management. Still less can the school constitute\nitself into a state within the state; for, while it is only one of the\nmeans which are necessary for developing citizens, the state and the\nchurch lay claim to the whole man his whole life long. The independence\nof the school can then only consist in this, that it raises within the\nstate an organ which works under its control, and which as school\nauthority endeavors within itself to befriend the needs of the school,\nwhile externally it acts on the church and state indirectly by means of\nethical powers. The emancipation of the school can never reasonably mean\nits abstract isolation, or the absorption of the ecclesiastical and\npolitical life into the school; it can signify only the free reciprocal\naction of the school with state and church. It must never be forgotten\nthat what makes the school a school is not the total process of\neducation, for this falls also within the family, the state, and the\nchurch; but that the proper work of the school is the process of\ninstruction, knowledge, and the acquirement, by practice, of skill.\n\n--The confusion of the idea of Instruction with that of Education in\ngeneral is a common defect in superficial treatises on these themes. The\nRadicals among those who are in favor of so-called \"Emancipation,\" often\nerroneously appeal to \"free Greece\" which generally for this fond\nignorance is made to stand as authority for a thousand things of which\nit never dreamed. In this fictitious Hellas of \"free, beautiful\nhumanity,\" they say the limits against which we strive to-day did not\nexist. The histories of Anaxagoras, Protagoras, Diagoras, Socrates,\nAristotle, Theophrastus, and of others, who were all condemned on\naccount of their \"impiety,\" tell quite another story.--\n\n\u00a7 136. The inspection of the school may be carried out in different\nways, but it must be required that its special institutions shall be\nembraced and cared for as organized and related wholes, framed in\naccordance with the idea of the state, and that one division of the\nministry shall occupy itself exclusively with it. The division of labor\nwill specially affect the schools for teaching particular avocations.\nThe prescription of the subjects to be studied in each school as\nappropriate to it, of the course of study, and of the object thereof,\nproperly falls to this department of government, is its immediate work,\nand its theory must be changed according to the progress and needs of\nthe time. Niemeyer, Schwarz, and others, have made out such plans for\nschools. Scheinert has fully painted the _Volkschule_, Mager the\n_B\u00fcrgerschule_, Deinhard and Kapp the _Gymnasium_. But such\ndelineations, however correct they may be, depend upon the actual sum of\nculture of a people and a time, and must therefore continually modify\ntheir fundamental Ideal. The same is true of the methods of instruction\nin the special arts and sciences. Niemeyer, Schwarz, Herbart, in their\nsketches of Pedagogics, Beneke in his _Doctrine of Education_, and\nothers, have set forth in detail the method of teaching Reading, Writing\nand Arithmetic, Languages, Natural Science, Geography, History, &c. Such\ndirections are, however, ephemeral in value, and only relatively useful,\nand must, in order to be truly practical, be always newly laid out in\naccordance with universal educational principles, and with the progress\nof science and art.\n\n--The idea that the State has the right to oversee the school lies in\nthe very idea of the State, which is authorized, and under obligation,\nto secure the education of its citizens, and cannot leave their\nfashioning to chance. The emancipation of the school from the State, the\nabstracting of it, would lead to the destruction of the school. There is\nno difficulty in Protestant States in the free inter-action of school\nand church, for Protestantism has consciously accepted as its peculiar\nprinciple individual freedom as Christianity has presented it. For\nCatholic States, however, a difficulty exists. The Protestant clergyman\ncan with propriety oversee the _Volkschule_, for here he works as\nteacher, not as priest. In the Protestant church there are really no\nLaity according to the original meaning of the term. On the contrary,\nCatholic clergymen are essentially priests, and as such, on account of\nthe unconditional obedience which, according to their church, they have\nto demand, they usurp the authority of the State. From this circumstance\narise, at present, numberless collisions in the department of school\nsupervision.--\n\n\nTHIRD DIVISION.\n\nPRAGMATICS (EDUCATION OF THE WILL).\n\n\u00a7 137. Both Physical and Intellectual Education are in the highest\ndegree practical. The first reduces the merely natural to a tool which\nmind shall use for its own ends; the second guides the intelligence, by\nways conformable to its nature, to the necessary method of the act of\nteaching and learning, which finally branches out into an objective\nnational life, into a system of mutually dependent school organizations.\nBut in a narrower sense we mean by practical education the methodical\ndevelopment of the Will. This phrase more clearly expresses the topic to\nbe considered in this division than others sometimes used in Pedagogics\n[_Bestrebungs verm\u00f6gen_, conative power]. The will is already the\nsubject of a science of its own, i.e. of Ethics; and if Pedagogics would\nproceed in anywise scientifically, it must recognize and presuppose the\nidea and the existence of this science. It should not restate in full\nthe doctrines of freedom of duty, of virtue, and of conscience, although\nwe have often seen this done in empirical works on Pedagogics.\nPedagogics has to deal with the idea of freedom and morality only so far\nas it fixes the technique of their process, and at the same time it\nconfesses itself to be weakest just here, where nothing is of any worth\nwithout a pure self-determination.\n\n\u00a7 138. The pupil must (1) become civilized; i.e. he must learn to\ngovern, as a thing external to him, his natural egotism, and to make the\nforms which civilized society has adopted his own. (2) He must become\nimbued with morality; i.e. he must learn to determine his actions, not\nonly with reference to what is agreeable and useful, but according to\nthe principle of the Good; he must become virtually free, form a\ncharacter, and must habitually look upon the necessity of freedom as the\nabsolute measure of his actions. (3) He must become religious; i.e. he\nmust discern that the world, with all its changes, himself included, is\nonly phenomenal; the affirmative side of this insight into the emptiness\nof the finite and transitory, which man would so willingly make\neverlasting, is the consciousness of the _absolute_ existing in and for\nitself, which, in its certainty of its truth, not torn asunder through\nthe process of manifestation, constitutes no part of its changes, but,\nwhile it actually presents them, permeates them all, and freely\ndistinguishes itself from them. In so far as man relates himself to God,\nhe cancels all finitude and transitoriness, and by this feeling frees\nhimself from the externality of phenomena. Virtue on the side of\ncivilization is Politeness; on that of morality, Conscientiousness; and\non that of religion, Humility.\n\n\nFIRST CHAPTER.\n\n_Social Culture._\n\n\n\u00a7 139. The social development of man makes the beginning of practical\neducation. It is not necessary to suppose a special social instinct. The\ninclination of man to the society of men does not arise only from the\nidentity of their nature, but is also in certain cases affected by\nparticular relations. The natural starting-point of social culture is\nthe Family. But this educates the child for Society, and by means of\nSociety the individual passes over into relations with the world at\nlarge. Natural sympathy changes to polite behavior, and this to the\ndexterous and circumspect deportment, whose truth nevertheless is first\nthe ethical purity which combines with the wisdom of the serpent the\nharmlessness of the dove.\n\n\u00a7 140. (1) The Family is the natural social circle to which man\nprimarily belongs. In it all the immediate differences which exist are\ncompensated by the equally immediate unity of the relationship. The\nsubordination of the wife to the husband, of the children to their\nparents, of the younger children to their elder brothers and sisters,\nceases to be subordination, through the intimacy of love. The child\nlearns obedience to authority, and in this it gives free personal\nsatisfaction to its parents and enjoys the same. All the relations in\nwhich he finds himself there are penetrated by the warmth of implicit\nconfidence, which can be replaced for the child by nothing else. In this\nsacred circle the tenderest emotions of the heart are developed by the\npersonal interest of all its members in what happens to any one, and\nthus the foundation is laid of a susceptibility to all genuine or real\nfriendship.\n\n--Nothing more unreasonable or inhuman could exist than those modern\ntheories which would destroy the family and would leave the children,\nthe offspring of the anarchy of free-love, to grow up in public\nnurseries. This would appear to be very humanitarian; indeed these\nsocialists talk of nothing but the interests of humanity--they are never\nweary of uttering their insipid jests on the institution of the family,\nas if it were the principle of all narrow-mindedness. Have these\nfanatics, who are seeking after an abstraction of humanity, ever\nexamined our foundling-hospitals, orphan asylums, barracks, and prisons,\nto discover in some degree to what an atomic state of barren cleverness\na human being grows who has never formed a part of a family? The Family\nis only one phase in the grand order of the ethical organization; but it\nis the substantial phase from which man passively proceeds, but into\nwhich, as he founds a family of his own, he actively returns. The child\nlives in the Family in the common joy and grief of sympathy for all,\nand, in the emotion with which he sees his parents approach death while\nhe is hastening towards the full enjoyment of existence, experiences the\nfiner feelings which are so powerful in creating in him a deeper and\nmore tender understanding of everything human.--\n\n\u00a7 141. (2) The Family rears the children not for itself but for the\ncivil society. In this we have a system of morals producing externally a\nsocial technique, a circle of fixed forms of society. This technique\nendeavors to subdue the natural roughness of man, at least as far as it\nmanifests itself externally. Because he is spirit, man is not to yield\nhimself to his immediateness; he is to exhibit to man his naturalness as\nunder the control of spirit. The etiquette of propriety on the one hand\nfacilitates the manifestation of individuality by means of which the\nindividual becomes interesting to others, and on the other hand, since\nits forms are alike for all, it makes us recognize the likeness of the\nindividual to all others and so makes their intercourse easier.\n\n--The conventional form is no mere constraint; but essentially a\nprotection not only for the freedom of the individual, but much more the\nprotection of the individual against the rude impetuosity of his own\nnaturalness. Savages and peasants for this reason are, in their\nrelations to each other, by no means as unconstrained as one often\nrepresents them, but hold closely to a ceremonious behavior. There is in\none of Immerman's stories, \"The Village Justice,\" a very excellent\npicture of the conventional forms with which the peasant loves to\nsurround himself. The scene in which the townsman who thinks that he can\ndispense with forms among the peasants is very entertainingly taught\nbetter, is exceedingly valuable in an educational point of view. The\nfeeling of shame which man has in regard to his mere naturalness is\noften extended to relations where it has no direct significance, since\nthis sense of shame is appealed to in children in reference to things\nwhich are really perfectly indifferent externalities.--\n\n\u00a7 142. Education with regard to social culture has two extremes to\navoid: the youth may, in his effort to prove his individuality, become\nvain and conceited, and fall into an attempt to appear interesting; or\nhe may become slavishly dependent on conventional forms, a kind of\nsocial pedant. This state of nullity which contents itself with the\nmechanical polish of social formalism is ethically more dangerous than\nthe tendency to a marked individuality, for it betrays emptiness; while\nthe effort towards a peculiar differentiation from others, to become\ninteresting to others, indicates power.\n\n\u00a7 143. When we have a harmony of the manifestation of the individual\nwith the expression of the recognition of the equality of others we have\nwhat is called deportment or politeness, which combines dignity and\ngrace, self-respect and modesty. We call it when fully complete,\nUrbanity. It treats the conventional forms with irony, since, at the\nsame time that it yields to them, it allows the productivity of spirit\nto shine through them in little deviation from them, as if it were fully\nable to make others in their place.\n\n--True politeness shows that it remains master of forms. It is very\nnecessary to accustom children to courtesy and to bring them up in the\netiquette of the prevailing social custom; but they must be prevented\nfrom falling into an absurd formality which makes the triumph of a\npolite behavior to consist in a blind following of the dictates of the\nlast fashion-journal, and in the exact copying of the phraseology and\ndirections of some book on manners. One can best teach and practise\npoliteness when he does not merely copy the social technique, but\ncomprehends its original idea.--\n\n\u00a7 144. (3) But to fully initiate the youth into the institutions of\ncivilization one must not only call out the feelings of his heart in the\nbosom of the family, not only give to him the formal refinement\nnecessary to his intercourse with society; it must also perform to him\nthe painful duty of making him acquainted with the mysteries of the ways\nof the world. This is a painful duty, for the child naturally feels an\nunlimited confidence in all men. This confidence must not be destroyed,\nbut it must be tempered. The mystery of the way of the world is the\ndeceit which springs from selfishness. We must provide against it by a\nproper degree of distrust. We must teach the youth that he may be\nimposed upon by deceit, dissimulation, and hypocrisy, and that therefore\nhe must not give his confidence lightly and credulously. He himself must\nlearn how he can, without deceit, gain his own ends in the midst of the\nthrong of opposing interests.\n\n--Kant in his Pedagogics calls that worldly-wise behavior by which the\nindividual is to demean himself in opposition to others,\nImpenetrability. By its means man learns how to \"manage men.\" In Lord\nChesterfield's letters to his son, we have pointed out the true value of\negotism in its relation to morals. All his words amount to this, that we\nare to consider every man to be an egotist, and to convert his very\negotism into a means of finding out his weak side; i.e. to flatter him\nby exciting his vanity, and by means of such flattery to ascertain his\nlimits. In common life, the expression \"having had experiences\" means\nabout the same thing as having been deceived and betrayed.--\n\n\nSECOND CHAPTER.\n\n_Moral Culture._\n\n\n\u00a7 145. The truth of social culture lies in moral culture. Without this\nlatter, every art of behavior remains worthless, and can never attain\nthe clearness of Humility and Dignity which are possible to it in its\nunity with morality. For the better determination of this idea\nPedagogics must refer to Ethics itself, and can here give the part of\nits content which relates to Education only in the form of educational\nmaxims. The principal categories of Ethics in the domain of morality are\nthe ideas of Duty, Virtue, and Conscience. Education must lay stress on\nthe truth that nothing in the world has any absolute value except will\nguided by the right.\n\n\u00a7 146. Thence follows (1) the maxim relating to the idea of Duty, that\nwe must accustom the pupil to unconditional obedience to it, so that he\nshall perform it for no other reason than that it is duty. It is true\nthat the performance of a duty may bring with it externally a result\nagreeable or disagreeable, useful or harmful; but the consideration of\nsuch connection ought never to determine us. This moral demand, though\nit may appear to be excessive severity, is the absolute foundation of\nall genuine ethical practice. All \"highest happiness theories,\" however\nfinely spun they may be, when taken as a guide for life, lead at last to\nSophistry, and this to contradictions which ruin the life.\n\n\u00a7 147. (2) Virtue must make actual what duty commands, or, rather, the\nactualizing of duty is Virtue. And here we must say next, then, that the\nprincipal things to be considered under Virtue are (_a_) the dialectic\nof particular virtues, (_b_) renunciation, and (_c_) character.\n\n\u00a7 148. (_a_) From the dialectic of particular virtues there follows the\neducational maxim that we must practise all virtues with equal\nfaithfulness, for all together constitute an ethical system complete in\nitself, in which no one is indifferent to another.\n\n--Morality should recognize no distinction of superiority among the\ndifferent virtues. They reciprocally determine each other. There is no\nsuch thing as one virtue which shines out above the others, and still\nless should we have any special gift for virtue. The pupil must be\ntaught to recognize no great and no small in the virtues, for that one\nwhich may at first sight seem small is inseparably connected with that\nwhich is seemingly the greatest. Many virtues are attractive by reason\nof their external consequences, as e.g. industry because of success in\nbusiness, worthy conduct because of the respect paid to it, charity\nbecause of the pleasure attending it; but man should not practise these\nvirtues because he enjoys them: he must devote the same amount of\nself-sacrifice and of assiduity to those virtues which (as Christ said)\nare to be performed in secret.--\n\n--It is especially valuable, in an educational respect, to gain an\ninsight, into the transition of which each virtue is empirically\ncapable, into a negative as well as into a positive extreme. The\ndifferences between the extremes and the golden mean are differences in\nquality, although they arrive at this difference in quality by means of\ndifference in quantity. Kant has, as is well known, attacked the\nAristotelian doctrine of the ethical [Greek: mesotes], since he was\nconsidering the qualitative difference of the mind as differentiating\nprinciple; this was correct for the subject with which he dealt, but in\nthe objective development we do arrive on the other hand at the\ndetermination of a quantitative limit; e.g. a man, with the most earnest\nintention of doing right, may be in doubt whether he has not, in any\ntask, done more or less than was fitting for him.--\n\n--As no virtue can cease its demands for us, no one can permit any\nexceptions or any provisional circumstances to come in the way of his\nduties. Our moral culture will always certainly manifest itself in very\nunequal phases if we, out of narrowness and weakness, neglect entirely\none virtue while we diligently cultivate another. If we are forced into\nsuch unequal action, we are not responsible for the result; but it is\ndangerous and deserves punishment if we voluntarily encourage it. The\npupil must be warned against a certain moral negligence which consists\nin yielding to certain weaknesses, faults, or crimes, a little longer\nand a little longer, because he has fixed a certain time after which he\nintends to do better. Up to that time he allows himself to be a loiterer\nin ethics. Perhaps he will assert that his companions, his surroundings,\nhis position, &c., must be changed before he can alter his internal\nconduct. Wherever education or temperament favors sentimentality, we\nshall find birth-days, new-year's day, confirmation day, &c., selected\nas these turning points. It is not to be denied that man proceeds in his\ninternal life from epoch to epoch, and renews himself in his most\ninternal nature, nor can we deny that moments like those mentioned are\nespecially favorable in man to an effort towards self-transformation\nbecause they invite introspection; but it is not to be endured that the\nyouth, while looking forward to such a moment, should consciously\npersist in his evil-doing. If he does, we shall have as consequences\nthat when the solemn moment which he has set at last arrives, at the\nstirring of the first emotion he perceives with terror that he has\nchanged nothing in himself, that the same temptations are present to\nhim, the same weakness takes possession of him, &c. In our business, in\nour theoretical endeavors, &c., it may certainly happen that, on account\nof want of time, or means, or humor, we may put off some work to another\ntime; but morality stands on a higher plane than these, because it, as\nthe concrete absoluteness of the will, makes unceasing demand on the\nwhole and undivided man. In morality there are no vacations, no\ninterims. As we in ascending a flight of stairs take good care not to\nmake a single mis-step, and give our conscious attention to every step,\nso we must not allow any exceptions in moral affairs, must not appoint\ngiven times for better conduct, but must await these last as natural\ncrises, and must seek to live in time as in Eternity.--\n\n\u00a7 149. (_b_) From Renunciation springs the injunction of\nself-government. The action of education on the will to form habits in\nit, is discipline or training in a narrower sense. Renunciation teaches\nus to know the relation in which we in fact, as historical persons,\nstand to the idea of the Good. From our empirical knowledge of ourselves\nwe derive the idea of our limits; from the absolute knowledge of\nourselves on the other hand, which presents to us the nature of Freedom\nas our own actuality, we derive the conception of the resistless might\nof the genuine will for the good. But to actualize this conception we\nmust have practice. This practice is the proper renunciation. Every man\nmust devise for himself some special set of rules, which shall be\ndetermined by his peculiarities and his resulting temptations. These\nrules must have as their innermost essence the subduing of self, the\nvanquishing of his negative arbitrariness by means of the universality\nand necessity of the will.\n\n--In order to make this easy, the youth may be practised in renouncing\nfor himself even the arbitrariness which is permitted to him. One often\nspeaks of renunciation as if it belonged especially to the middle ages\nand to Catholicism; but this is an error. Renunciation in its one-sided\nform as relying on works, and for the purpose of mortification, is\nasceticism, and belongs to them; but Renunciation in general is a\nnecessary determination of morals. The keeping of a journal is said to\nassist in the practice of virtue, but its value depends on how it is\nkept. To one it may be a curse, to another a blessing. Fichte, G\u00f6the,\nByron, and others, have kept journals and have been assisted thereby;\nwhile others, as Lavater, have been thwarted by them. Vain people will\nevery evening record with pen and ink their admiration of the correct\ncourse of life which they have led in the day devoted to their\npleasure.--\n\n\u00a7 150. (_c_) The result of the practice in virtue, or, as it is\ncommonly expressed, of the individual actualization of freedom, is the\nmethodical determinateness of the individual will as Character. This\nconception of character is formal, for it contains only the identity\nwhich is implied in the ruling of a will on its external side as\nconstant. As there are good, strong and beautiful characters, so there\nare also bad, weak, and detestable ones. When in Pedagogics, therefore,\nwe speak so much of the building up of a character, we mean the making\npermanent of a direction of the individual will towards the\nactualization of the Good. Freedom ought to be the character of\ncharacter. Education must therefore observe closely the inter-action of\nthe factors which go to form character, viz., ([Greek: a]) the\ntemperament, as the natural character of the man; ([Greek: b]) external\nevents, the historical element; ([Greek: g]) the energy of the Will, by\nwhich, in its limits of nature and history, it realizes the idea of the\nGood in and for itself as the proper ethical character. Temperament\ndetermines the Rhythm of our external manifestation of ourselves; the\nevents in which we live assign to us the ethical problem, but the Will\nin its sovereignty stamps its seal on the form given by these\npotentialities. Pedagogics aims at accustoming the youth to freedom, so\nthat he shall always measure his deed by the idea of the Good. It does\nnot desire a formal independence, which may also be called character,\nbut a real independence resting upon the conception of freedom as that\nwhich is absolutely necessary. The pedagogical maxim is then: Be\nindependent, but be so through doing Good.\n\n--According to preconceived opinion, stubbornness and obstinacy claim\nthat they are the foundation of character. But they may spring from\nweakness and indeterminateness, on which account one needs to be well on\nhis guard. A gentle disposition, through enthusiasm for the Good, may\nattain to quite as great a firmness of will. Coarseness and meanness are\non no account to be tolerated.--\n\n\u00a7 151. (3) We pass from the consideration of the culture of character\nto that of conscience. This is the relation which the moral agent makes\nbetween himself as manifestation and himself as idea. It compares\nitself, in its past or future, with its nature, and judges itself\naccordingly as good or bad. This independence of the ethical judgment is\nthe soul proper of all morality, the negation of all self-deception and\nof all deception through another. The pedagogical maxim is: Be\nconscientious. Be in the last instance dependent only upon the\nconception which thou thyself hast of the idea of the Good!\n\n--The self-criticism prompted by conscience hovers over all our\nhistorical actuality, and is the ground of all our rational progress.\nFichte's stern words remain, therefore, eternally true: \"He who has a\nbad character, must absolutely create for himself a better one.\"--\n\n\nTHIRD CHAPTER.\n\n_Religious Culture._\n\n\n\u00a7 152. Social culture contains the formal phase, moral culture the real\nphase, of the practical mind. Conscience forms the transition to\nreligious culture. In its apodeictic nature, it is the absoluteness of\nspirit. The individual discerns in the depths of its own consciousness\nthe determinations of universality and of necessity to which it has to\nsubject itself. They appear to it as the voice of God. Religion makes\nits appearance as soon as the individual distinguishes the Absolute from\nhimself as personal, as a subject existing for itself and therefore for\nhim. The atheist remains at the stage of insight into the absoluteness\nof the logical and physical, \u00e6sthetic and practical categories. He may,\ntherefore, be perfectly moral. He lacks religion, though he loves to\ncharacterize his uprightness by this name, and to transfer the dogmatic\ndeterminations of positive religion into the ethical sphere. It belongs\nto the province of religion that I demean myself towards the Absolute\nnot only as toward that which is my own substance, and that in relation\nto it not I alone am the subject, but that to me also the substance in\nitself is a personal subject for itself. If I look upon myself as the\nonly absolute, I make myself devoid of spiritual essence. I am only\nabsolute self-consciousness, for which, because it as idea relates only\nto itself, there remains only the impulse to a persistent conflict with\nevery self-consciousness not identical with it. Were this the case, such\na self-consciousness would be only theoretical irony. In religion I know\nthe Absolute as essence, when I am known by him. Everything else, myself\nincluded, is finite and transitory, however significant it may be,\nhowever relatively and momentarily the Infinite may exist in it. As\nexistence even, it is transitory. The Absolute, positing itself,\ndistinguishing itself from itself in unity with itself, is always like\nto itself, and takes up all the unrest of the phenomenal world back\nagain into its simple essence.\n\n\u00a7 153. This process of the individual spirit, in which it rises out of\nthe multiplicity of all relations into union with the Absolute as the\nsubstantial subject, and in which nature and history are united, we may\ncall, in a restricted sense, a change of heart [Gemuth]. In a wider\nsense of the word we give this name to a certain sentimental\ncheerfulness (light-heartedness), a sense of comfort--of little\nsignificance. The highest emotions of the heart culminate in religion,\nwhose warmth is inspired by practical activity and conscientiousness.\n\n\u00a7 154. Education has to fit man for religion. (1) It gives him the\nconception of it; (2) it endeavors to have this conception actualized in\nhim; (3) it subordinates the theoretical and practical process in\nfashioning him to a determinate stand-point of religious culture.\n\n--In the _working out_ or detailed treatment of Pedagogics, the\nposition which the conception of religion occupies is very uncertain.\nMany writers on Education place it at the beginning, while others\nreserve it for the end. Others na\u00efvely bring it forward in the midst of\nheterogeneous surroundings, but know how to say very little concerning\nit, and urge teachers to kindle the fire of religious feeling in their\npupils by teaching them to fear God. Through all their writing, we hear\nthe cry that in Education nothing is so important as Religion. Rightly\nunderstood, this saying is quite true. The religious spirit, the\nconsciousness of the Absolute, and the reverence for it, should permeate\nall. Not unfrequently, however, we find that what is meant by religion\nis theology, or the church ceremonial, and these are only one-sided\nphases of the total religious process. The Anglican High-Church presents\nin the colleges and universities of England a sad example of this error.\nWhat can be more deadening to the spirit, more foreign to religion, than\nthe morning and evening prayers as they are carried on at Oxford and\nCambridge with machine-like regularity! But also to England belongs the\ncredit of the sad fact, that, according to Kohl's report, there live in\nManchester, Liverpool, Birmingham, and London, thousands of men who have\nnever enjoyed any teaching in religion, have never been baptized, who\nlive absolutely without religion in brutal stupidity. Religion must form\nthe culminating point of Education. It takes up into itself the\ndidactical and practical elements, and rises through the force of its\ncontent to universality.--\n\n\nI. _The Theoretical Process of Religious Culture._\n\n\u00a7 155. Religion, in common with every content of the spirit, must pass\nthrough three stages of feeling, conception, and comprehension. Whatever\nmay be the special character of any religion it cannot avoid this\npsychological necessity, either in its general history or in the history\nof the individual consciousness. The teacher must understand this\nprocess, partly in order that he may make it easier to the youth, partly\nthat he may guard against the malformation of the religious feeling\nwhich may arise through the fact of the youth's remaining in one stage\nafter he is ready for another and needs it. Pedagogics must therefore\nlay out beforehand the philosophy of religion, on which alone can be\nfound the complete discussion of this idea.\n\n\u00a7 156. (1) Religion exists first as religious feeling. The person is\nstill immediately identical with the Divine, does not yet distinguish\nhimself from the absoluteness of his being, and is in so far determined\nby it. In so far as he feels the divine, he is a mystery to himself.\nThis beginning is necessary. Religion cannot be produced in men from the\nexternal side; its genesis belongs rather to the primitive depths in\nwhich God himself and the individual soul are essentially one.\n\n--The educator must not allow himself to suppose that he is able to\nmake a religion. Religion dwells originally in every individual soul,\nfor every one is born of God. Education can only aid the religious\nfeeling in its development. As far as regards the psychological form, it\nwas quite correct for Schleiermacher and his followers to characterize\nthe absoluteness of the religious feeling as the feeling of dependence,\nfor feeling is determined by that which it feels; it depends upon its\ncontent. But in so far as God constitutes the content of the feeling,\nthere appears the opposite of all dependence or absolute emancipation. I\nmaintain this in opposition to Schleiermacher. Religion lifts man above\nthe finite, temporal and transitory, and frees him from the control of\nthe phenomenal world. Even the lowest form of religion does this; and\nwhen it is said that Schleiermacher has been unjustly criticized for\nthis expression of dependence, this distinction is overlooked.--\n\n\u00a7 157. But religious feeling as such rises into something higher when\nthe spirit distinguishes the content of this religious feeling from any\nother content which it also feels, represents it clearly to itself, and\nplaces itself over against it formally as a free individual.\n\n--But we must not understand that the religious feeling is destroyed in\nthis process; in rising to the form of distinct representation, it\nremains at the same time as a necessary form of the Intelligence.--\n\n\u00a7 158. If the spirit is held back and prevented from passing out of the\nsimplicity of feeling into the act of distinguishing the perception from\nwhat it becomes, the conception--if its efforts towards the forming of\nthis conception are continually re-dissolved into feeling, then feeling,\nwhich was as the first step perfectly healthy and correct, will become\nmorbid and degenerate into a wretched mysticism. Education must,\ntherefore, make sure that this feeling is not destroyed by the progress\nof its content into perception and conception on the side of\npsychological form, but rather that it attains truth thereby.\n\n\u00a7 159. (2) Conception as the ideally transformed perception dissects\nthe religious content on its different sides, and follows each of these\nto its consequence. Imagination controls the individual conceptions, but\nby no means with that absoluteness which is often supposed; for each\npicture has in itself its logical consequence to which imagination must\nyield; e.g. if a religion represents God as an animal, or as half animal\nand half man, or as man, each of these conceptions has in its\ndevelopment its consequences for the imagination.\n\n\u00a7 160. We rise out of the stage of Conception when the spirit tries to\ndetermine the universality of its content according to its necessity,\ni.e. when it begins to think. The necessity of its pictures is a mere\npresupposition for the imagination. The thinking activity, however,\nrecognizes not only the contradiction which exists between the sensuous,\nlimited form of the individual conception, and the absolute nature of\nits content, but also the contradiction in which the conceptions find\nthemselves with respect to each other.\n\n\u00a7 161. If the spirit is prevented from passing out of the varied\npictures of conception to the supersensuous clearness and simplicity of\nthe thinking activity--if the content which it already begins to seize\nas idea is again dissolved into the confusion of the picture-world, then\nthe religion of imagination, which was a perfectly proper form as the\nsecond step, becomes perverted into some form of idolatry, either coarse\nor refined. Education must therefore not oppose the thinking activity if\nthe latter undertakes to criticize religious conceptions; on the\ncontrary, it must guide this so that the discovery of the contradictions\nwhich unavoidably adhere to sensuous form shall not mislead the youth\ninto the folly of throwing away, with the relative untruth of the form,\nalso the religious content in general.\n\n--It is an error for educators to desire to keep the imagination apart\nfrom religious feeling, but it is also an error to detain the mind,\nwhich is on its formal side the activity of knowing, in the stage of\nimagination, and to desire to condemn it thence into the service of\ncanonical allegories. The more, in opposition to this, it is possessed\nwith the charm of thinking, the more is it in danger of condemning the\ncontent of religion itself as a mere fictitious conception. As a\ntransition-stage the religion of imagination is perfectly normal, and it\ndoes not in the least impair freedom if, for example, one has\npersonified evil as a living Devil. The error does not lie in this, but\nin the making absolute these determinate, \u00e6sthetic forms of religion.\nThe reaction of the thinking activity against such \u00e6sthetic absolutism\nthen undertakes in its negative absolutism to despise the content also,\nas if it were a mere conception.--\n\n\u00a7 162. (3) In the thinking activity the spirit attains that form of the\nreligious content which is identical with that of its simple\nconsciousness, and above which there is no other for the intelligence as\ntheoretical. But we distinguish three varieties in this thinking\nactivity: the abstract, the reflective, and the speculative. The\nAbstract gives us the religious content of consciousness in the form of\nabstractions or dogmas, i.e. propositions which set up a definition as a\nuniversal, and add to it another as the reason for its necessity. The\nReflective stage busies itself with the relation of dogmas to each\nother, and with the search for the grounds on which their necessity must\nrest. It is essentially critical, and hence skeptical. The explanation\nof the dogmas, which is carried on in this process of reasoning and\nskeptical investigation, is completed alone in speculative thinking,\nwhich recognizes the free unity of the content and its form as its own\nproper self-determination of the content, creating its own differences.\nEducation must know this stage of the intelligence, partly that it may\nin advance preserve, in the midst of its changes, that repose which it\nbrings into the consciousness; partly that it may be able to lead to the\nprocess of change itself, in accordance with the organic connection of\nits phases. We should prevent the criticism of the abstract\nunderstanding by the reflective stage as little as we should that of the\nimagination by the thinking activity. But the stage of reflection is not\nthe last possibility of the thinking activity, although, in the variety\nof its skepticism it often takes itself for such, and, with the\nemptiness of mere negation to which it holds, often brings itself\nforward into undesirable prominence. It becomes evident, in this view,\nhow very necessary for man, with respect to religion, is a genuine\nphilosophical culture, so that he may not lose the certainty of the\nexistence of the Absolute in the midst of the obstinacy of dogmas and\nthe changes of opinions.\n\n\u00a7 163. Education must then not fear the descent into dogmatic\nabstraction, since this is an indispensable means for theoretical\nculture in its totality, and the consciousness cannot dispense with it\nin its history. But Education has, in the concrete, carefully to discern\nin which of these stages of culture any particular consciousness may be.\nFor if for mankind as a race the fostering of philosophy is absolutely\nnecessary, it by no means follows that this necessity exists for each\nindividual. To children, to women, e.g. for all kinds of simple and\nlimited lives, the form of the religion of the imagination is well\nsuited, and the form of comprehension can come only relatively to them.\nEducation must not, then, desire powerfully and prematurely to develop\nthe thinking activity before the intelligence is really fully grown.\n\n--The superficial thinking which many teachers demand in the sphere of\nreligion is no less impractical than the want of all guidance into\nrightly ordered meditations on religious subjects. It is natural that\nthe lower form of intelligence should, in contrast with the higher,\nappear to be frivolous, because it has no need of change of form as the\nhigher has, and on this account it looks upon the destruction of the\nform of a picture or a dogma as the destruction of religion itself. In\nour time the idea is very prevalent that the content itself must change\nwith the changing of the psychological form, and that therefore a\nreligion in the stage of feeling, of conception, and of comprehension,\ncan no longer be the same in its essence. These suppositions, which are\nso popular, and are considered to be high philosophy, spring from the\nsuperficiality of psychological inquiry.--\n\n\u00a7 164. The theoretical culture of the religious feeling endeavors\ntherefore with the freedom of philosophical criticism to elevate the\npresupposition of Reason in the religious content to self-assured\ninsight by means of the proof of the necessity of its determinations.\nThis is the only reasonable pedagogical way not only to prevent the\ndegeneration of the religious consciousness into a miserable mysticism\nor into frivolity, but also to remove these if they are already\nexistent.\n\n--External seclusion avails nothing. The crises of the world-historical\nchanges in the religious consciousness find their way through the\nthickest cloister walls; the philosopher Reinhold was a pupil of the\nJesuits, the philosopher Schad of the Benedictines.--\n\n\nII. _The Practical Process of Religious Culture._\n\n\u00a7 165. The theoretical culture is truly practical, for it gives man\ndefinite conceptions and thoughts of the Divine and his relation to him.\nBut in a narrower sense that culture is practical which relates to the\nWill as such. Education has in this respect to distinguish (1)\nconsecration--religious feeling in general,--(2) the induction of the\nyouth into the forms of a positive religion, and (3) his reconciliation\nwith his lot.\n\n\u00a7 166. (1) Religious feeling presupposes morality as an indispensable\ncondition without which it cannot inculcate its ideas. But if man from a\nmerely moral stand-point places himself in relation to the idea of Duty\nas such, the ethical religious stand-point differs from it in this, that\nit places the necessity of the Good as the self-determination of the\ndivine Will and thus makes of practice a personal relation to God,\nchanging the Good to the Holy and the Evil to Sin. Education must\ntherefore first accustom the youth to the idea, that in doing the Good\nhe unites himself with God as with the absolute Person, but that in\ndoing Evil he separates himself from him. The feeling that he through\nhis deed comes into contact with God himself, positively or negatively,\ndeepens the moral conduct to an intense sensibility of the heart.\n\n\u00a7 167. (2) The religious sense which grows in the child that he has an\nuninterrupted personal relation to the Absolute as a person, constitutes\nthe beginning of the practical forming of religion. The second step is\nthe induction of the child into the objective forms of worship\nestablished in some positive religion. Through religious training the\nchild learns to renounce his egotism; through attendance on religious\nservices he learns to give expression to his religious feeling in\nprayer, in the use of symbols, and in church festivals. Education must,\nhowever, endeavor to retain freedom with regard to these forms, so that\nthey shall not be confounded with Religion itself. Religion displays\nitself in these ceremonies, but they as mere forms are of value only in\nso far as they, while externalities, are manifestations of the spirit\nwhich produces them.\n\n--If the mechanism of ceremonial forms is taken as religion itself, the\nservice of God degenerates into the false service of religion, as Kant\nhas designated it in _Religion within the Limits of Pure Reason_.\nNothing is more destructive to the sensibility to all real religious\nculture than the want of earnestness with which prayers, readings from\nthe Bible, attendance on church, the communion, &c., are often practised\nby teachers. But one must not conclude from this extreme that an\nignorance of all sacred forms in general would be more desirable for the\nchild.--\n\n\u00a7 168. (3) It is possible that a man on the stand-point of\necclesiastical religious observances may be fully contented; he may be\nfully occupied in them, and perfect his life thereby in perfect content.\nBut by far the greater number of men will see themselves forced to\nexperience the truth of religion in the hard vicissitudes of their lot,\nsince they carry on some business, and with that business create for\nthemselves a past whose consequences condition their future. They limit\nthemselves through their deeds, whose involuntary-voluntary authors they\nbecome; involuntary in so far as they are challenged to the deeds from\nthe totality of events, voluntary in so far as they undertake them and\nbring about an actual change in the world. The history of the individual\nman appears therefore on the one hand, if we consider its material, as\nthe work of circumstances; but on the other hand, if we reflect on the\nform, as the act of a self-determining actor. Want of freedom (the being\ndetermined through the given situation) and freedom (the determination\nto the act) are united in actual life as something which is exactly so,\nand cannot become anything else as final. The essence of the spiritual\nbeing stands always over against this unavoidable limitation as that\nwhich is in itself infinite, which is beyond all history, because the\nabsolute spirit, in and for itself, has no history. That which one calls\nhis history is only the manifesting of himself, and his everlasting\nreturn out of this manifestation into himself an act which in absolute\nspirit coincides with the transcending of all manifestation. From the\nnature which belongs to him there arises for the individual spirit the\nimpulse towards a holy life, i.e. the being freed from his history even\nin the midst of its process. He gratifies this impulse negatively\nthrough the considering of what has happened as past and gone, as that\nwhich lives now only ideally in the recollection; and positively through\nthe positing of a new actual existence in which he strives to realize\nthe idea of freedom which constitutes his necessity, as purer and higher\nthan before. This constant new-birth out of the grave of the past to the\nlife of a more beautiful future is the genuine reconciliation with\ndestiny. The false reconciliation may assume different forms. It may\nabstain from all action because man through this limits himself and\nbecomes responsible. This is to despair of freedom, which condemns the\nspirit to the loss of itself since its nature demands activity. The\nabstract quietism of the Indian penitents, of the Buddhists, of the\nfanatical ascetics, of the Protestant recluses, &c., is an error of this\nkind. The man may become indifferent about the ethical determinateness\nof his deeds. In this case he acts; but because he has no faith in the\nnecessary connection of his deeds through the means of freedom, a\nconnection which he would willingly ascribe to mere chance, he loses his\nspiritual essence. This is the error of indifference and of its\nfrivolity, which denies the open mystery of the ruling of destiny.\nEducation must therefore imbue man with respect for external movements\nof history and with confidence in the inexhaustibleness of the\nprogressive human spirit, since only by producing better things can he\naffirmatively elevate himself above his past. This active acknowledgment\nof the necessity of freedom as the determining principle of destiny\ngives the highest satisfaction to which practical religious feeling may\narrive, for blessedness develops itself in it--that blessedness which\ndoes not know that it is circumscribed by finitude and transitoriness,\nand which possesses the immortal courage to strive always anew for\nperfection with free resignation at its non-realization, so that\nhappiness and misery, pleasure and pain, are conquered by the power of\ndisinterested self-sacrifice.\n\n--The escape from action in an artificial absence of all events in\nlife, which often sinks to a veritable brutalizing of man, is the\ndistinguishing feature of all monkish pedagogics. In our time there is\nespecial need of a reconciliation between man and destiny, for all the\nworld is discontented. The worst form of discontent is when one is, as\nthe French say, _blas\u00e9_; though the word is not, as many fancy, derived\noriginally from the French, but from the Greek [Greek: blazein], to\nwither. It is true that all culture passes through phases, each of which\nbecomes momentarily and relatively wearisome, and that in so far one may\nbe _blas\u00e9_ in any age. But in modern times this state of feeling has\nincreased to that of thorough disgust--disgust which nevertheless at the\nsame time demands enjoyment. The one who is _blas\u00e9_ has enjoyed\neverything, felt everything, mocked at everything. He has passed from\nthe enjoyment of pleasure to sentimentality, i.e. to rioting in feeling;\nfrom sentimentality to irony with regard to feeling, and from this to\nthe torment of feeling his entire weakness and emptiness as opposed to\nthese. He ridicules this also, as if it were a consolation to him to\nfling away the universe like a squeezed lemon, and to be able to assert\nthat in pure nothingness lies the truth of all things. And yet\nnevertheless this irony furnishes the point on which Education can\nfasten, in order to kindle anew in him the religious feeling, and to\nlead him back to a loving recognition of actuality, to a respect for his\nown history. The greatest difficulty which Education has to encounter\nhere is the coquetry, the miserable eminence and self-satisfaction which\nhave undermined the man and made him incapable of all simple and natural\nenjoyment. It is not too much to assert that many pupils of our\n_Gymnasia_ are affected with this malady. Our literature is full of its\nproducts. It inveighs against its dissipation, and nevertheless at the\nsame time cannot resist a certain kind of pleasure in it. Diabolical\nsentimentality!--\n\n\nIII. _The Absolute Process of Religious Culture._\n\n\u00a7 169. In comparing the stages of the theoretical and practical culture\nof the religious feeling their internal correspondence appears. Feeling,\nas immediate knowledge, and the consecration of the sense by means of\npiety; imagination with all its images, and the church services with\ntheir ceremonial observances; finally, the comprehending of religion as\nthe reconciliation with destiny, as the internal emancipation from the\ndominion of external events--all these correspond to each other. If we\nseize this parallelism all together, we have the progress which religion\nmust make in its historical process, in which it (1) begins as natural;\n(2) goes on to historical precision, and (3) elevates this to a rational\nfaith. These stages await every man in as far as he lives through a\ncomplete religious culture, but this may be for the individual a\nquestion of chance.\n\n\u00a7 170. (1) A child has as yet no definite religious feeling. He is still\nonly a possibility capable of manifold determinations. But, since he is\na spirit, the essence of religion is active in him, though as yet in an\nunconscious form. The substance of spirit attests its presence in every\nindividual, through his mysterious impulse toward the absolute and\ntowards intercourse with God. This is the initiatory stage of natural\nreligion, which must not be confounded with the religion which makes\nnature the object of worship (fetichism, &c.)\n\n\u00a7 171. (2) But while the child lives into this in his internal life, he\ncomes in contact with definite forms of religion, and will naturally,\nthrough the mediation of the family, be introduced to some one of them.\nHis religious feeling takes now a particular direction, and he accepts\nreligion in one of its historical forms. This positive religion meets\nthe precise want of the child, because it brings into his consciousness,\nby means of teaching and sacred rites, the principal elements which are\nfound in the nature of religion.\n\n\u00a7 172. (3) In contradistinction to the natural basis of religious\nfeeling, all historical religions rest on the authoritative basis of\nrevelation from God to man. They address themselves to the imagination,\nand offer a system of objective forms of worship and ceremonies. But\nspirit, as eternal, as self-identical, cannot forbear as thinking\nactivity to subject the traditional religion to criticism and to compare\nit as a phenomenal existence. From this criticism arises a religion\nwhich satisfies the demands of the reason, and which, by means of\ninsight into the necessity of the historical process, leads to the\nexercise of a genuine toleration towards its many-sided forms. This\nreligion mediates between the unity of the thinking consciousness and\nthe religious content, while this content, in the history of religious\nfeeling, appears theoretically as dogma, and practically as the command\nof an absolute and incomprehensible authority. It is just as simple as\nthe unsophisticated natural religious feeling, but its simplicity is at\nthe same time master of itself. It is just as specific in its\ndeterminations as the historical religion, but its determinateness is at\nthe same time universal, since it is worked out by the thinking reason.\n\n\u00a7 173. Education must superintend the development of the religious\nconsciousness towards an insight into the necessary consequence of its\ndifferent stages. Nothing is more absurd than for the educator to desire\nto avoid the introduction of a positive religion, or a definite creed,\nas a middle stage between the natural beginning of religious feeling and\nits end in philosophical culture. Only when a man has lived through the\nentire range of one-sided phases--through the crudeness of such a\nconcrete individualizing of religion, and has come to recognize the\nuniversal nature of religion in a special form of it which excludes\nother forms--only when the spirit of a congregation has taken him into\nits number, is he ripe to criticize religion in a conciliatory spirit,\nbecause he has then gained a religious character through that historical\nexperience. The self-comprehending universality must have such a solid\nbasis as this in the life of the man; it can never form the beginning of\none's culture, but it may constitute the end which turns back again to\nthe beginning. Most men remain at the historical stand-point. The\nreligion of reason, as that of the minority, constitutes in the\ndifferent religions the invisible church, which seeks by progressive\nreform to purify these religions from superstition and unbelief. It is\nthe duty of the state, by making all churches equal in the sight of the\nlaw, to guard religion from the temptation of impure motives, and,\nthrough the granting of such freedom to religious individuality, to help\nforward the unity of a rational insight into religion which is distinct\nfrom the religious feeling only in its form, not in its content. Not a\nphilosopher, but Jesus of Nazareth freed the world from all selfishness\nand all bondage.\n\n\u00a7 174. With this highest theoretical and practical emancipation, the\ngeneral work of education ends. It remains now to be shown how the\ngeneral idea of Education shapes its special elements into their\nappropriate forms. From the nature of Pedagogics, which concerns itself\nwith man in his entirety, this exposition belongs partly to the history\nof culture in general, partly to the history of religion, partly to the\nphilosophy of history. The pedagogical element in it always lies in the\nideal which the spirit of a nation or of an age creates out of itself,\nand which it seeks to realize in its youth.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRD PART.\n\nParticular Systems of Education.\n\n\n\u00a7 175. The definite actuality of Education originates in the fact that\nits general idea is individualized, according to its special elements,\nin a specific statement which we call a pedagogical principle. The\nnumber of these principles is not unlimited, but from the idea of\nEducation contains only a certain number. If we derive them therefore,\nwe derive at the same time the history of Pedagogics, which can from its\nvery nature do nothing else than make actual in itself the possibilities\ninvolved in the idea of Education. Such a derivation may be called an _\u00e0\npriori_ construction of history, but it is different from what is\ngenerally denoted by this term in not pretending to deduce single events\nand characters. All empirical details are confirmation or illustration\nfor it, but it does not attempt to seek this empirical element _\u00e0\npriori_.\n\n--The history of Pedagogics is still in the stage of infancy. At one\ntime it is taken up into the sphere of Politics; at another, into that\nof the history of Culture. The productions of some of the most\ndistinguished writers on the subject are now antiquated. Cramer of\nStralsund made, in 1832, an excellent beginning in a comprehensive and\nthorough history of Pedagogy; but in the beginning of his second part he\ndwelt too long upon the Greeks, and lost himself in too wide an\nexposition of practical Philosophy in general. Alexander Kapp has given\nus excellent treatises on the Pedagogics of Aristotle and Plato. But\nwith regard to modern Pedagogics we have relatively very little. Karl v.\nRaumer, in 1843, began to publish a history of Pedagogics since the time\nof the revival of classical studies, and has accomplished much of value\non the biographical side. But the idea of the general connection and\ndependence of the several manifestations has not received much\nattention, and since the time of Pestalozzi books have assumed the\ncharacter of biographical confessions. Str\u00fcmpell, in 1843, developed the\nPedagogics of Kant, Fichte, and Herbart.--\n\n[Sidenote: _Particular Systems of Education._]\n\n\u00a7 176. Man is educated by man for humanity. This is the fundamental idea\nof all Pedagogics. But in the shaping of Pedagogics we cannot begin with\nthe idea of humanity as such, but only with the natural form in which it\nprimarily manifests itself--that of the nation. But the naturalness of\nthis principle disappears in its development, since nations appear in\ninteraction on each other and begin dimly to perceive their unity of\nspecies. The freedom of spirit over nature makes its appearance, but to\nthe spirit explicitly in the transcendent form of abstract theistic\nreligion, in which God appears as the ruler over Nature as merely\ndependent; and His chosen people plant the root of their nationality no\nlonger in the earth, but in this belief. The unity of the abstractly\nnatural and abstractly spiritual determinateness is the concrete unity\nof the spirit with nature, in which it recognizes nature as its\nnecessary organ, and itself as in its nature divine. Spirit in this\nstage, as the internal presupposition of the two previously named, takes\nup into itself on one hand the phase of nationality, since this is the\nform of its immediate individualization; but it no longer distinguishes\nbetween nations as if they were abstractly severed the one from the\nother, as the Greeks shut out all other nations under the name of\nbarbarians. It also takes up into itself the phase of spirituality,\nsince it knows itself as spirit, and knows itself to be free from\nnature, and yet it does not estrange itself as the Jews did in their\nrepresentation of pure spirit, in reference to which nature seems to be\nonly the work of its caprice. Humanity knows nature as its own, because\nit knows the Divine spirit and its creative energy manifesting itself in\nnature and history, as also the essence of its own spirit. Education can\nbe complete only with Christianity as the religion of humanity.\n\n\u00a7 177. We have thus three different systems of religion--(1) the\nNational; (2) the Theocratic; and (3) the Humanitarian. The first works\nin harmony with nature since it educates the individual as a type of his\nspecies. The original nationality endeavors sharply to distinguish\nitself from others, and to impress on each person the stamp of its\nuniform type. One individual is like every other, or at least should be\nso. The second system in its manner of manifestation is identical with\nthe first. It even marks the national difference more emphatically; but\nthe ground of the uniformity of the individuals is with it not merely\nthe natural common interest, but it is the consequence of the spiritual\nunity, which abstracts from nature, and as history, satisfied with no\npresent, hovers continually outside of itself between past and future.\nThe theocratic system educates the individual as the servant of God. He\nis the true Jew only in so far as he is this; the genealogical identity\nwith the father Abraham is a condition but not the principle of the\nnationality. The third system liberates the individual to the enjoyment\nof freedom as his essence, and educates the human being within national\nlimits which no longer separate but unite, and, in the consciousness\nthat each individual, without any kind of mediation, has a direct\nrelation to God, makes of him a man who knows himself to be a member of\nthe spiritual world of humanity. We can have no fourth system beyond\nthis. From the side of the State-Pedagogics we might characterize these\nsystems as that of the nation-State, the God-State, and the\nhumanity-State. From the time of the establishment of the last, no one\nnation can attain to any sovereignty over the others. By means of the\nworld-religion of Christianity, the education of nations has come to the\npoint of taking for its ideal, man as determining himself according to\nthe demands of reason.\n\n\nFIRST DIVISION.\n\nTHE SYSTEM OF NATIONAL EDUCATION.\n\n\u00a7 178. The National is the primitive system of education, since the\nfamily is the organic starting-point of all education, and is in its\nenlargement the basis of nationality.\n\n--Education is always education of the mind. Even unorganized nations,\nthose in a state of nature, the so-called savage nations, are possessed\nof something more than a mere education of the body; for, though they\nset much value upon gymnastic and warlike practice and give much time to\nthem, they inculcate also respect for parents, for the aged, and for the\ndecrees of the community. Education with them is essentially family\ntraining, and its content is natural love and reverence. We cannot deny\nthat the finer forms of those to which we are accustomed are wanting.\nBesides, education among all these people of nature is very simple and\nmuch the same, though great differences in its management may exist\narising from differences of situation or from temperament of race.--\n\n\u00a7 179. National Education is divided into three special systems: (1)\nPassive, (2) Active, (3) Individual. It begins with the humility of an\nabstract subjection to nature, and ends with the arrogance of an\nabstract rejection of nature.\n\n\u00a7 180. Man yields at first to the natural authority of the family; he\nobeys unconditionally its behests. Then he substitutes for the family,\nas he goes on his culture, the artificial family of his caste, to whose\nrules he again unconditionally yields. To dispense with this\nartificialty and this tyranny, at last he abstracts himself from the\nfamily and from culture. He flees from both, and becoming a monk he\nagain subjects himself to the tyranny of his order. The monks presents\nto us the mere type of his species.\n\n\u00a7 181. This absolute abstraction from nature and from culture, this\nquietism of spiritual isolation, is the ultimate result of the Passive\nsystem. In opposition to this, the Active system seeks the positive\nvanquishing of naturalness. Its people are courageous. They attack other\nnations in order to rule over them as conquerors. They live for the\ncontinuation of their life after death, and build for themselves on this\naccount tombs of granite. They brave the dangers of the sea. The\nabstract prose of the patriarchal-state, the fantastic chimeras of the\ncaste-state, the ascetic self-renunciation of the cloister-state, yield\ngradually to the recognition of actuality; and the fundamental principle\nof Persian education consisted in the inculcation of veracity.\n\n\u00a7 182. But the nationality which is occupied with simple, natural\nelements--other nations, death, the mystery of the ocean--may revert to\nthe abstractions of the previous stage, which in education often take on\ncruel forms--nay, often truly horrible. First, when the spirit begins\nnot only to suspect its true nature, but rather to recognize itself as\nthe true essence; and when the God of Light places as the motto on his\ntemple the command to self-knowledge, the natural individuality becomes\nfree. Neither the passive nor the active system understands the free\nself-distinction of the individual from the rest. In them, to be an\nindividuality is a betrayal of the very idea of their existence, and\neven the suspicion of such a charge suffices utterly and mercilessly to\ndestroy the one to whom it refers. Even the solitary individuality of\nthe despot is not the one-ness of free individuality: he is only an\nexample of his kind; only in his kind is he singular. Nationality rises\nto individuality through the free dialectic of its race, wherein it\ndissolves its own presupposition.\n\n\u00a7 183. Nevertheless individuality must always proceed from naturalness.\nEsthetically it seeks nature, but the nature of the activity itself, in\norder, by penetrating it with mind, to make of it a work of art;\npractically it seeks it, partly to disdain it in gloomy resignation,\npartly to enjoy it in excessive sensual ecstasy, demoniacally to\nheighten the extravagance of its own internal feeling in wild revels.\n\n--The Germans were not savage in the common signification of this term.\nThey were men each one of whom constituted himself willingly a centre\nfor others, or, if this was not the case, renounced them in proud\nself-sufficiency. All the glory and all the disgrace of our race lies in\nthe power of individualizing which is divinely breathed into our veins.\nAs a natural element, if this be not controlled, it degenerates easily\ninto intractableness, into violence. The Germans need therefore, in\norder to be educated, severe service, the imposition of difficult tasks;\nand for this reason they appropriate to themselves, now the Roman law,\nnow the Greek philology, now Gallic usages, &c., in order to work off\ntheir superfluous strength in such opposition. The natural reserve of\nthe German found its solvent in Christianity. By itself, as the history\nof the German race shows, it would have been destroyed in vain\ndistraction. First of all, the German race, in the confidence of its\nimmediate consciousness, ventured forth upon the sea, and managed the\nship upon its waves as if they rode a charger.--\n\n\nFIRST GROUP.\n\nTHE SYSTEM OF PASSIVE EDUCATION.\n\n\u00a7 184. All education desires to free man from his finitude, to make him\nethical, to unite him with God. It begins therefore with a negative\nrelation to naturalness, but at once falls into a contradiction of its\naim, which is to convert the opposition to nature into a natural\nnecessity. Spirit subjects the individual (1) to the rule of the family\nas naturally spiritual; (2) to the rule of the caste as to a principle\nin itself spiritual, mediated through the division of labor, which it\nnevertheless, through its power of being inherited, joins again to the\nfamily; (3) to the abstract self-determination of the monkish quietism,\nwhich turns itself away as well from the family as from work, and\nconstitutes this flight from nature and history, this absolute\npassivity, into an educational ideal.\n\n--We shall not here enter into the details of this system, but simply\nendeavor to remove from their differences the want of clearness which is\ngenerally found involved in any mention of them, so that the phrases of\nhierarchical and theocratical education are used without any historical\naccuracy.--\n\n\nI. _Family Education._\n\n\u00a7 185. The Family, as the organic starting-point of all education, makes\nthe beginning. The nation looks upon itself as a family. Among all\nunorganized people education is family-education, though they are not\nconscious of its necessity. Identical in principle with these people,\nbut distinguished from them in its consciousness of it, the Chinese\nnation, in their laws, regulations, and customs, have constituted the\nfamily the absolute basis of their life and the only principle of their\neducation.\n\n\u00a7 186. The natural element of the family is found in marriage and\nrelationship; the spiritual, in love. We may call the nature of family\nfeeling which is the immediate unity of both elements, by the name of\nPiety. In so far as this appears not merely as a substantial feeling but\nat the same time as law, there arises from it the subordination of the\nabstract obedience of the woman as wife to the husband, of children to\nthe parents, of the younger children to the elder. In this obedience man\nfirst renounces his self-will and his natural roughness; he learns to\nmaster his passions, and to conduct himself with deferential gentleness.\n\n--When the principle ruling the family is transferred to political\nrelations, there arises the tyranny of the Chinese state, which cannot\nbe fully treated here. We find everywhere in it an analogical relation\nto that of parents and children. In China the ruler is the father and\nmother of the country; the civil officers are representatives of a\npaternal authority, &c. It follows that in school the children will be\nranked according to their age. The authority of parents over children is\naccording to the principle entirely unconditional, but in actuality very\nmild. The abandonment of daughters by the poorest classes in the great\ncities is not objected to, for the government rears the children in\norphan asylums, where they are cared for by nurses appointed by the\nstate.--\n\n\u00a7 187. The distinction of these relations which are conditioned by\nnature takes on the external shape of a definite ceremonial, the\nlearning of which is a chief element of education. In conformity with\nthe naturalness of the whole principle all crimes against it are\npunished by whipping, which does not necessarily entail dishonor. In\norder to lead man to the mastery of himself and to obedience to those\nwho are naturally set over him, education develops an endless number of\nfragmentary maxims to keep attention ever watchful over himself, and his\nbehavior always fenced in by a code of prescriptions.\n\n--We find in such moral sentences the substance of what is called, in\nChina, Philosophy.--\n\n\u00a7 188. The theoretical education includes Heading, Writing--i.e.\npainting the letters with a brush--Arithmetic, and the making of verses.\nBut the ability to do these things is not looked at as means of culture\nbut as ends in themselves, and to fit one therefore for the undertaking\nof state offices. The Chinese possess formally all the means for\nliterary culture--printing, libraries, schools, and academies; but the\nworth of these is not great. Their value has been often over-rated\nbecause of their external resemblance to those found among us.\n\n\nII. _Caste Education._\n\n\u00a7 189. The members of the Family are certainly immediately\ndistinguished among each other as to sex and age, but this difference is\nentirely immaterial as far as the nature of their employment goes. In\nChina, therefore, every man can attain any position; he who is of\nhumblest birth in the great state-family can climb to the highest honor.\nBut the progress of spirit now becomes so mediated that the division of\nlabor shall be made the principle on which a new distinction shall arise\nin the family: each one shall perfect himself only in that labor which\nwas allotted to him as his own through his birth into a particular\nfamily. This fatalism (caste-distinction) breaks up the life, but\nincreases its tension, for spirit works on the one hand towards the\ndeepening of its distinctions; on the other, towards leading them back\ninto the unity which the natural determining directly opposes.\n\n\u00a7 190. The chief work of education thus consists in teaching each one\nthe rights and duties of his caste so that he shall act only exactly\nwithin their limits, and not pollute himself by passing beyond them. As\nthe family-state concerns itself with fortifying the natural distinction\nby a far-reaching and vigorous ceremonial, so the caste-state must do\nthe same with the distinction of class. A painful etiquette becomes more\nand more endless in its requisitions the higher the caste, in order to\nmake the isolation more sharply defined and more perceptible.\n\n--This feature penetrates all exclusively caste-education. The\naristocracy exiles itself on this account from its native country,\nspeaks a foreign language, loves its literature, adopts foreign customs,\nlives in foreign countries--in Italy, Paris, &c. In this way man becomes\ndistinguished from others. But that man should strive thus to\ndistinguish himself has its justification in the mystery of his birth,\nand this is assuredly always the principle of the caste-state in which\nit exists. The castes lead to genealogical records, which are of the\ngreatest importance in determining the destiny of the individual. The\nBrahmin may strike down one of a lower caste who has defiled him by\ncontact, without becoming thereby liable to punishment; rather would he\nbe to blame if he did not commit the murder. Thus formerly was it with\nthe officer who did not immediately kill the citizen or the common\nsoldier who struck him a blow, &c.--\n\n\u00a7 191. The East Indian culture is far deeper and richer than the\nChinese. The theoretical culture includes Reading, Writing, and\nArithmetic; but these are subordinate, as mere means for the higher\nactivities of Poetry, Speculation, Science, and Art. The practical\neducation limits itself strictly by the lines of caste, and since the\ncaste system constitutes a whole in itself, and each for its permanence\nneeds the others, it cannot forbear giving utterance suggestively to\nwhat is universally human in the free soul, in a multitude of fables\n(Hitopadesa) and apothegms (sentences of Bartrihari). Especially for the\neducation of princes is a minor of the world sketched out.\n\n--Xenophon's Cyropedia is of Greek origin, but it is Indian in its\nthought.--\n\n\nIII. _Monkish Education._\n\n\u00a7 192. Family Education demands unconditional obedience towards parents\nand towards all who stand in an analogous position. Caste Education\ndemands unconditional obedience to the duties of the caste. The family\npunishes by whipping; the caste, by excommunication, by loss of honor.\nThe opposition to nature appears in both systems in the form of a rigid\nceremonial, distinguishing between the differences arising from nature.\nThe family as well as the caste has within it a manifold fountain of\nactivity, but it has also just as manifold a limitation of the\nindividual. Spirit is forced, therefore, to turn against nature in\ngeneral. It must become indifferent to the family. But it must also\noppose history, and the fixed distinctions of division of labor as\nnecessitated by nature. It must become indifferent to work and the\npleasure derived from it. That it may not be conditioned either by\nnature or by history, it denies both, and makes its action to consist in\nproducing an abstinence from all activity.\n\n\u00a7 193. Such an indifference towards nature and history produces the\neducation which we have called monkish. Those who support this sect care\nfor food, clothing, and shelter, and for these material contributions,\nas the laity, receive in return from those who live this contemplative\nlife the spiritual contribution of confidence in the blessings which\nwait upon ascetic contemplation. The family institution as well as the\ninstitution of human labor is subordinated to abstract isolation, in\nwhich the individual lives only for the purification of his soul. All\nthings are justified by this end. Castes are found no more; only those\nare bound to the observance of a special ceremonial who as nuns or monks\nsubject themselves to the unconditional obedience to the rules of the\ncloister, these rules solemnly enjoining on the negative side celibacy\nand cessation from business, and on the positive side prayer and\nperfection.\n\n[Sidenote: _Buddhistic Education--System of Active Education._]\n\n\u00a7 194. In the school of the Chinese Tao-tse, and in the command to the\nBrahmin after he has established a family to become a recluse, we find\nthe transition as it actually exists to the Buddhistic Quietism which\nhas covered the rocky heights of Thibet with countless cloisters, and\nreared the people who are dependent upon it into a childlike amiability,\ninto a contented repose. Art and Science have here no value in\nthemselves, and are regarded only as ministering to religion. To be able\nto read in order to mutter over the prayers is desirable. With the\npremeditated effort in the state of a monk to reduce self to nothing as\nthe highest good, the system of passive education attains its highest\npoint. But the spirit cannot content itself in this abstract and dreamy\nabsence of all action, though it demands a high stage of culture, and it\nhas recourse therefore to action, partly on the positive side to conquer\nnature, partly to double its own existence in making history. Inspired\nwith affirmative courage, it descends triumphantly from the mountain\nheights, and fears secularization no more.\n\n\nSECOND GROUP.\n\nTHE SYSTEM OF ACTIVE EDUCATION.\n\n\u00a7 195. Active Education elevates man from his abstract subjection to\nthe family, the caste, asceticism, into a concrete activity with a\ndefinite aim which subjects those elements as phases of its mediation,\nand grants to each individual independence on the condition of his\nidentity with it. These aims are the military state, the future after\ndeath, and industry. There is always an element of nature present from\nwhich the activity proceeds; but this no longer appears, like the\nfamily, the caste, the sensuous egotism, as immediately belonging to the\nindividual, but as something outside of himself which limits him, and,\nas his future life, has an internal relation to him, yet is essential to\nhim and assigns to him the object of his activity. The Persian has as an\nobject of conquest, other nations; the Egyptian, death; the Phoenician,\nthe sea.\n\n\nI. _Military Education._\n\n\u00a7 196. That education which would emancipate a nation from the passivity\nof abstraction must throw it into the midst of an historical activity. A\nnation finds not its actual limits in its locality: it can forsake this\nand wander far away from it. Its true limit is made by another nation.\nThe nation which knows itself to be actual, turns itself therefore\nagainst other nations in order to subject them and to reduce them to the\ncondition of mere accidents of itself. It begins a system of conquest\nwhich has in itself no limitations, but goes from one nation to another,\nand extends its evil course indefinitely. The final result of this\nattack is that it finds itself attacked and conquered.\n\n--The early history of the Persian is twofold: the patriarchal in the\nhigh valleys of Iran, and the religio-hierarchical among the Medes. We\nfind under these circumstances a repetition of the principal\ncharacteristics of the Chinese, Indian, and Buddhist educations. In\nancient Zend there were also castes. Among the Persians themselves, as\nthey descended from their mountains to the conquest of other nations,\nthere was properly only a military nobility. The priesthood was\nsubjected to the royal power which represented the absolute power of\nactuality. Of the Persian kings, Cyrus attacked Western Asia; Cambyses,\nAfrica; Darius and Xerxes, Europe; until the reaction of the spiritually\nhigher nationality did not content itself with self-preservation, but\nunder the Macedonian Alexander made the attack on Persia itself.--\n\n\u00a7 197. Education enjoined upon the Persians (1) to speak the truth; (2)\nto learn to ride and to use the bow and arrow. There is implied in the\nfirst command a recognition of actuality, the negation of all dreamy\nabsorption, of all fantastical indetermination; and in this light the\nPersian, in distinction from the Hindoo, appears to be considerate and\nreasonable. In the second command is implied warlike practice, but not\nthat of the nomadic tribes. The Persian fights on horseback, and thus\nappears in distinction from the Indian hermit seclusion and the quietism\nof the Lamas as restless and in constant motion.\n\n--The Family increases in value as it rears a large number of warriors.\nMany children were a blessing. The king of Persia gave a premium for all\nchildren over a certain number. Nations were drawn in as nations by war;\nhence the immense multitude of a Persian army. Everything--family,\nbusiness, possessions--must be regardlessly sacrificed to the one aim of\nwar. Education, therefore, cultivated an unconditional, all-embracing\nobedience to the king, and the slightest inclination to assert an\nindividual independence was high treason and was punished with death. In\nChina, on the contrary, duty to the family is paramount to duty to the\nstate, or rather is itself duty to the state. The civil officer who\nmourns the loss of one of his family is released during the period of\nmourning from the duties of his function.--\n\n\u00a7 198. The theoretical education, which was limited to reading, writing,\nand to instruction, was, in the usages of culture, in the hands of the\nMagians, the number of whom was estimated at eighty thousand, and who\nthemselves had enjoyed the advantages of a careful education, as is\nshown by their gradation into Herbeds, Moheds, and Destur-Moheds; i.e.\ninto apprentices, journeymen, and masters. The very fundamental idea of\ntheir religion was military; it demanded of men to fight on the side of\nthe king of light, and guard against the prince of darkness and evil. It\ngave to him thus the honor of a free position between the world-moving\npowers and the possibility of a self-creative destiny, by which means\nvigor and chivalrous feeling were developed. Religion trained the\nactivity of man into actualization on this planet, increasing by its\nmeans the dominion of the good, by purifying the water, by planting\ntrees, by extirpating troublesome wild beasts. Thus it increased bodily\ncomfort, and no longer, like the monk, treated this as a mere negative.\n\n\nII. _Priestly Education._\n\n\u00a7 199. War has in death its force. It produces this, and by its means\ndecides who shall serve and who obey. But the nation that finds its\nactivity in war, though it makes death its absolute means, yet finds its\nown limit in death. Other nations are only its boundaries, which it can\noverpass in fighting with and conquering them. But death itself it can\nnever escape, whether it come in the sands of the desert--which buried\nfor Cambyses an army which he sent to the oracle of the Libyan Ammon--or\nin the sea, that scorns the rod of the angry despot, or by the sword of\nthe freeman who guards his household gods. On this account, that people\nstands higher that in the midst of life reflects on death, or rather\nlives for it. The education of such a nation must be priestly because\ndeath is the means of the transition to the future life, and\nconsequently equivalent to a new birth, and becomes a religious act.\nNeither the family-state, nor the caste-state, nor the monkish nor\nmilitary-state, are hierarchies in the sense that the leading of the\nnational life by a priesthood produces. But in Egypt this was actually\nthe case, because the chief educational tribunal was the death-court\nwhich concerned only the dead, in awarding to them or denying them the\nhonor of burial as the result of their whole life, but in its award\naffected also the honor of the surviving family.\n\n\u00a7 200. General education here limited itself to imparting the ability\nto read, write, and calculate. Special education consisted properly only\nin an habitual living into a definite business within the circle of the\nFamily. In this fruitful and warm land the expense of supporting\nchildren was very small. The division into classes was without the cruel\nfeatures of the Indian civilization, and life itself in the narrow Nile\nvalley was very social, very rich, very full of eating and drinking,\nwhile the familiarity with death heightened the force of enjoyment. In a\nstricter sense only, the warriors, the priests, and the kings, had,\nproperly speaking, an education. The aim of life, which was to determine\nin death its eternal future, to secure for itself a passage into the\nstill kingdom of Amenth, manifested itself externally in the care which\nthey expended on the preservation of the dead shell of the immortal\nsoul, and on this account worked itself out in building tombs which\nshould last for ever. The Chinese builds a wall to secure his\nfamily-state from attack; the Hindoo builds pagodas for his gods; the\nBuddhist erects for himself monastic cells; the Persian constructs in\nPersepolis the tomb of his kings, where they may retire in the evening\nof their lives after they have rioted in Ecbatana, Babylon, and Susa;\nbut the Egyptian builds his own tomb, and carries on war only to protect\nit.\n\n\nIII. _Industrial Education._\n\n\u00a7 201. The system of active education was to find its solution in a\nnation which wandered from the coast of the Red Sea to the foot of the\nLebanon mountains on the Mediterranean, and ventured forth upon the sea\nwhich before that time all nations had avoided as a dangerous and\ndestructive element. The Phoenician was industrial, and needed markets\nwhere he could dispose of the products of his skill. But while he sought\nfor them he disdained neither force nor deceit; he planted colonies; he\nstipulated that he should have in the cities of other nations a portion\nfor himself; he urged the nations to adopt his pleasures, and insensibly\nintroduced among them his culture and even his religion. The education\nof such a nation must have seemed profane, because it fostered\nindifference towards family and one's native land, and made the restless\nand passionate activity subservient to gain. The understanding and\nusefulness rose to a higher dignity.\n\n\u00a7 202. Of the education of the Phoenicians we know only so much as to\nenable us to conclude that it was certainly various and extensive: among\nthe Carthaginians, at least, that their children were practised in\nreading, writing, and arithmetic, in religious duties; secondly, in a\ntrade; and, finally, in the use of arms, is not improbable. Commerce\nbecame with the Phoenicians a trade, the egotism of which makes men dare\nto plough the inhospitable sea, and to penetrate eagerly the horror of\nits vast distances, but yet to conceal from other nations their\ndiscoveries and to wrap them in a veil of fable.\n\n--It is a beautiful testimony to the disposition of the Greeks, that\nPlato and others assign as a cause of the low state of Arithmetic and\nMathematics among the Phoenicians and Egyptians the want of a free and\ndisinterested seizing of them.--\n\n\nTHIRD GROUP.\n\nTHE SYSTEM OF INDIVIDUAL EDUCATION.\n\n\u00a7 203. One-sided passivity as well as one-sided activity is subsumed\nunder Individuality, which makes itself into its own end and aim. The\nPhoenician made gain his aim; his activity was of a utilistic character.\nIndividuality as a pedagogical principle is indeed egotistic in so far\nas it endeavors to achieve its own peculiarity, but it is at the same\ntime noble. It desires not to _have_ but to _be_. Individuality also\nbegins as natural, but it elevates nature by means of art to ideality.\nThe solution of beauty is found in culture, since this renounces the\ncharm of appearance for the knowledge of the True. The \u00e6sthetic\nindividuality is followed by the practical, which has indeed no natural\nbasis, but proceeds from an artificial basis as a state formed for a\nplace of refuge. In order internally to create a unity in this, is\nframed a definite code of laws; in order externally to assure it, the\ninvincible warrior is demanded. Education is therefore, more exactly\nspeaking, juristic and military practice. The morality of the state is\nloosened as it reduces into its mechanism one nation after another,\nuntil the individuality, become d\u00e6monic, makes its war-hardened legions\ntremble with weakness. We characterize this individuality as d\u00e6monic\nbecause it desires recognition simply for its own sake. Not for its\nbeauty and culture, not for its knowledge of business and its bravery,\nonly for its peculiarity as such does it claim value, and in the effort\nto secure this it is ready to hazard life itself. In its\nnaturally-growing existence this individuality is deep, but at the same\ntime without self-limit. The nations educate themselves to this\nindividuality when they destroy the world of Roman world--that of\nself-limit and balance--which they find.\n\n\nI. _\u00c6sthetic Education._\n\n\u00a7 204. The system of individual education begins with the\ntransfiguration of the immediate individuality into beauty. On the side\nof nature this system is passion, for individuality is given through\nnature; but on the side of spirit it is active, for spirit must\ndetermine itself to restrain its measure as the essence of beauty.\n\n\u00a7 205. Here the individual is of value only in so far as he is\nbeautiful. At first beauty is apprehended as natural, but then it is\ncarried over into the realm of spirit, and the Good is posited as\nidentical with the Beautiful. The ideal of \u00e6sthetic education remains\nalways that there shall be also an external unity of the Good with the\nBeautiful, of Spirit with Nature.\n\n--We cannot here give in detail the history of Greek Education. It is\nthe best known among us, and the literature in which it is worked out is\nvery widely spread. Among the common abridged accounts we mention here\nonly the works of Jacobs, of Cramer & Bekker's \"Charinomos.\" We must\ncontent ourselves with mentioning the turning-points which follow from\nthe nature of the principle.--\n\n\u00a7 206. Culture was in Greece thoroughly national. Education gave to the\nindividual the consciousness that he was a Greek and no barbarian, a\nfree man and so subject only to the laws of the state, and not to the\ncaprice of any one person. Thus the nationality was freed at once from\nthe abstract unity of the family and from the abstract distinction of\ncaste, while it appeared with the manifold talents of individuals of\ndifferent races. Thus the Dorian race held as essential, gymnastics; the\n\u00c6olians, music; the Ionics, poetry. The \u00c6olian individuality was\nsubsumed in the history of the two others, so that these had to proceed\nin their development with an internal antagonism. The education of the\nDorian race was national education in the fullest sense of the word; in\nit the education of all was the same, and was open to all, even\nincluding the young women; among the Ionic race it was also in its\ncontent truly national, but in its form it was varied and unlike, and,\nfor those belonging to various great families, private. The former,\nreproducing the Oriental phase of abstract unity, educated all in one\nmould; the latter was the nursery of particular individualities.\n\n\u00a7 207. (1) Education in the heroic age, without any systematic\narrangement on the subject, left each one perfectly free. The people\nrelated the histories of the adventures of others, and through their own\ngave material to others again to relate stories of them.\n\n--The Greeks began where the last stage of the active system of\neducation ended--with piracy and the seizure of women. Swimming was a\nuniversal practice among the sea-dwelling Greeks, just as in\nEngland--the mistress of the ocean--rowing is the most prominent\nexercise among the young men, and public regattas are held.--\n\n\u00a7 208. (2) In the period of state-culture proper, education developed\nitself systematically; and gymnastics, music, and grammatics, or\nliterary culture, constituted the general pedagogical elements.\n\n\u00a7 209. Gymnastics aimed not alone to render the body strong and agile,\nbut, far more, to produce in it a noble carriage, a dignified and\ngraceful manner of appearance. Each one fashioned his body into a\nliving, divine statue, and in the public games the nation crowned the\nvictor.\n\n--Their love of beautiful boys is explicable not merely by their\ninterest in beautiful forms, but especially by their interest in\nindividuality. The low condition of the women could not lie at the\nfoundation of it, for among the Spartans they were educated as nearly as\npossible like the men, and yet among them and the Cretans the love of\nboys was recognized in their legislation. To be without a beloved\n([Greek: ait\u00eas]), or a lover ([Greek: eispn\u00ealas]), was among them\nconsidered as disgraceful as the degradation of the love by unchastity\nwas contemptible. What charm was there, then, in love? Manifestly only\nbeauty and culture. But that a person should be attracted by one and not\nby another can be accounted for only by the peculiar character, and in\nso far the boy-love and the man-friendship which sprang from it, among\nthe Greeks, are very characteristic and noteworthy phenomena.--\n\n\u00a7 210. It was the task of Music, by its rhythm and measure, to fill the\nsoul with well-proportioned harmony. So highly did the Greeks prize\nmusic, and so variously did they practise it, that to be a musical man\nmeant the same with them as to be a cultivated man with us. Education in\nthis respect was very painstaking, inasmuch as music exercises a very\npowerful influence in developing discreet behavior and self-possession\ninto a graceful naturalness.\n\n--Among the Greeks we find an unrestricted delight in nature--a\nlistening to her manifestations, the tone of which betrays the\nsubjectivity of things as subjectivity. In comparison with this tender\nsympathy with nature of the Greeks--who heard in the murmur of the\nfountains, in the dashing of the waves, in the rustling of the trees,\nand in the cry of animals, the voice of divine personality--the sight\nand hearing of the Eastern nations for nature is dull.--\n\n\u00a7 211. The stringed instrument, the cithern, was preferred by the Greeks\nto all wind instruments because it was not exciting, and allowed the\naccompaniment of recitation or song, i.e. the contemporaneous activity\nof the spirit in poetry. Flute-playing was first brought from Asia Minor\nafter the victorious progress of the Persian war, and was especially\ncultivated in Thebes. They sought in vain afterwards to oppose the wild\nexcitement raised by its influence.\n\n\u00a7 212. Grammar comprehended Letters ([Greek: grammata]), i.e. the\nelements of literary culture, reading and writing. Much attention was\ngiven to correct expression. The Fables of \u00c6sop, the Iliad, and the\nOdyssey, and later the tragic poets, were read, and partly learned by\nheart. The orators borrowed from them often the ornament of their\ncommonplace remarks.\n\n\u00a7 213. (3) The internal growth of what was peculiar to the Grecian State\ncame to an end with the war for the Hegemony. Its dissolution began, and\nthe philosophical period followed the political. The beautiful ethical\nlife was resolved into thoughts of the True, Good, and Beautiful.\nIndividuality turned more towards the internal, and undertook to subject\nfreedom, the existing regulations, laws and customs, to the criticism of\nreason as to whether these were in and for themselves universal and\nnecessary. The Sophists, as teachers of Grammar, Rhetoric, and\nPhilosophy, undertook to extend the cultivation of Reflection; and this\nintroduced instability in the place of the immediate fixed state of\nmoral customs. Among the women, the _Het\u00e6r\u00e6_ undertook the same\nrevolution; in the place of the [Greek: potnia m\u00eat\u00ear] appeared the\nbeauty, who isolated herself in the consciousness of her charms and in\nthe perfection of her varied culture, and exhibited herself to the\npublic admiration. The tendency to idiosyncrasy often approached\nwilfulness, caprice and whimsicality, and opposition to the national\nmoral sense. A Diogenes in a tub became possible; the soulless but\ngraceful frivolity of an Alcibiades charmed, even though it was\nexternally condemned; a Socrates completed the break in consciousness,\nand urged upon the system of the old morality the pregnant question,\nwhether Virtue could be taught? Socrates worked as a philosopher who was\nto educate. Pythagoras had imposed upon his pupils the abstraction of a\ncommon, exactly-defined manner of living. Socrates, on the contrary,\nfreed his disciples--in general, those who had intercourse with\nhim--leading them to the consciousness of their own individuality. He\nrevolutionized the youth in that he taught them, instead of a\nthoughtless obedience to moral customs, to seek to comprehend their\npurpose in the world, and to rule their actions according to it.\nOutwardly he conformed in politics, and in war as at Marathon; but in\nthe direction of his teaching he was subjective and modern.\n\n\u00a7 214. This idea, that Virtue could be taught, was realized especially\nby Plato and Aristotle; the former inclining to Dorianism, the latter\nholding to the principle of individuality in nearly the modern sense. As\nregards the pedagogical means--Gymnastics, Music, and Grammar--both\nphilosophers entirely agreed. But, in the seizing of the pedagogical\ndevelopment in general, Plato asserted that the education of the\nindividual belonged to the state alone, because the individual was to\nact wholly in the state. On the other hand, Aristotle also holds that\nthe state should conduct the education of its citizens, and that the\nindividual should be trained for the interest of the state; but he\nrecognizes also the family, and the peculiarity of the individual, as\npositive powers, to which the state must accord relative freedom. Plato\nsacrificed the family to the state, and must therefore have sacred\nmarriages, nurseries, and common and public educational institutions.\nEach one shall do only that which he is fitted to do, and shall work at\nthis only for the sake of perfecting it: to what he shall direct his\nenergies, and in what he shall be instructed, shall be determined by the\ngovernment, and the individuality consequently is not left free.\nAristotle also will have for all the citizens the same education, which\nshall be common and public; but he allows, at the same time, an\nindependence to the family and self-determination to the individual, so\nthat a sphere of private life presents itself within the state: a\ndifference by means of which a much broader sway of individuality is\npossible.\n\n--These two philosophers have come to represent two very different\ndirections in Pedagogics, which at intervals, in certain stages of\nculture, reappear--the tyrannical guardianship of the state which\nassumes the work of education, tyrannical to the individual, and the\nfree development of the liberal state-education, in opposition to\nidiosyncrasy and fate.--\n\n\u00a7 215. The principle of \u00e6sthetic individuality reaches its highest\nmanifestation when the individual, in the decay of public life, in the\ndisappearance of all beautiful morality, isolates himself, and seeks to\ngain in his isolation such strength that he can bear the changes of\nexternal history around him with composure--\"ataraxy.\" The Stoics sought\nto attain this end by turning their attention inward into pure\ninternality, and thus, by preserving the self-determination of abstract\nthinking and willing, maintaining an identity with themselves: the\nEpicureans endeavored to do the same, with this difference however, that\nthey strove after a positive satisfaction of the senses by filling them\nwith concrete pleasurable sensations. As a consequence of this, the\nStoics isolated themselves in order to maintain themselves in the\nexclusiveness of their internal unconditioned relation to themselves,\nwhile the Epicureans lived in companies, because they achieved the\nreality of their pleasure-seeking principle through harmony of feeling\nand through the sweetness of friendship. In so far the Epicureans were\nGreeks and the Stoics Romans. With both, however, the beauty of\nmanifestation was secondary to the immobility of the inner feeling. The\nplastic attainment of the Good and the Beautiful was cancelled in the\nabstraction of thinking and feeling. This was the advent of the Roman\nprinciple among the Greeks.\n\n\u00a7 216. The pedagogical significance of Stoicism and Epicureanism\nconsists in this, that, after the moral life in public and in private\nwere sundered from each other, the individual began to educate himself,\nthrough philosophical culture, into stability of character, for which\nreason the Roman emperors particularly disliked the Stoics. At many\ntimes, a resignation to the Stoic philosophy was sufficient to make one\nsuspected. But, at last, the noble emperor, in order to win himself a\nhold in the chaos of things, was forced himself to become a Stoic and to\nflee to the inaccessible stillness of the self-thinking activity and the\nself-moving will. Stoics and Epicureans had both what we call an ideal.\nThe Stoics used the expression \"kingdom\"; as Horace says, sarcastically,\n\"_Sapiens rex est nisi--pituita molesta est_.\"\n\n\nII. _Practical Education._\n\n\u00a7 217. The truth of the solution of the beautiful individuality is the\npromise of the activity conformable to its purpose [i.e. teleological\nactivity], which on the one hand considers carefully end and means, and\non the other hand seeks to realize the end through the corresponding\nmeans, and in this deed subjects mere beauty of form. The practical\nindividuality is therefore externally conditioned, since it is not its\nown end like the Beautiful, whether Stoical or Epicurean, but has an\nend, and finds its satisfaction not so much in this after it is attained\nas in the striving for its attainment.\n\n\u00a7 218. The education of this system begins with very great simplicity.\nBut after it has attained its object, it abandons itself to using the\nresults of \u00e6sthetic culture as a recreation without any specific object.\nWhat was to the Greeks a real delight in the Beautiful became therefore\nwith the Romans simply an \u00e6sthetic amusement, and as such must finally\nbe wearisome. The earnestness of individuality made itself in mysticism\ninto a new aim, which was distinguished from the original one in that it\nconcealed in itself a mystery and exacted a theoretically \u00e6sthetic\npractice.\n\n\u00a7 219. (1) The first epoch of Roman education, as properly Roman, was\nthe juristic-military education of the republic. The end and aim of the\nRoman was Rome; and Rome, as from the beginning an eclectic state, could\nendure only while its laws and external politics were conformable to\nsome end. It bore the same contradiction within itself as in its\nexternal attitude. This forced it into robbery, and the plebeians were\nrelated to the patricians in the same way, for they robbed them\ngradually of all their privileges. On this account education directed\nitself partly to giving a knowledge of the Law, partly to communicating\na capacity for war. The boys were obliged to commit to memory and recite\nthe laws of the twelve tables, and all the youths were subject to\nmilitary service. The Roman possessed no individuality of native growth,\nbut one mediated through the intermingling of various fugitives, which\ndeveloped a very great energy. Hence from the first he was attentive to\nhimself, he watched jealously over the limits of his rights and the\nrights of others, measured his strength, moderated himself, and\nconstantly guarded himself. In contrast with the careless cheerfulness\nof the Greeks, he therefore appears gloomy.\n\n--The Latin tongue is crowded with expressions which paint presence of\nmind, effort at reflection, a critical attitude of mind, the importance\nof personal control: as _gravitas morum, sui compos esse, sibi constare,\nausteritas, vir strenuus, vir probus, vitam honestam gerere, sibimet\nipse imperare_, &c. The Etruscan element imparted to this earnestness an\nespecially solemn character. The Roman was no more, like the Greek,\nunembarrassed at naturalness. He was ashamed of nakedness; _verecundia,\npudor_, were genuinely Roman. _Vitam pr\u00e6ferre pudori_ was shameful. On\nthe contrary, the Greek gave to Greeks a festival in exhibiting the\nsplendor of his naked body, and the inhabitants of Crotona erected a\nstatue to Philip only because he was so perfectly beautiful. Simply to\nbe beautiful, only beautiful, was enough for the Greek. But a Roman, in\norder to be recognized, must have done something for Rome: _se bene de\nrepublica mereri_.--\n\n\u00a7 220. In the first education of children the agency of the mother is\nespecially influential, so that woman with the Romans took generally a\nmore moral, a higher, and a freer position. It is worthy of remark that\nwhile, as the beautiful, she set the Greeks at variance, among the\nRomans, through her ethical authority, she acted as reconciler.\n\n\u00a7 221. The mother of the Roman helped to form his character; the father\nundertook the work of instruction. When in his fifteenth year the boy\nexchanged the _toga pr\u00e6textata_ for the _toga virilis_, he was usually\nsent to some relative, or to some jurist, as his guardian, to learn\nthoroughly, under his guidance, of the laws and of the state; with the\nseventeenth began military service. All education was for a long time\nentirely a private affair. On account of the necessity of a mechanical\nunity in work which war demands, the greatest stress was laid upon\nobedience. In its restricted sense education comprised Reading, Writing,\nand Arithmetic; the last being, on account of its usefulness, more\nesteemed by the Romans than by the Greeks, who gave more time to\nGeometry. The schools, very characteristically, were called _Ludi_,\nbecause their work was, in distinction from other practice, regarded\nsimply as a recreation, as play.\n\n--The Roman recognized with pride this distinction between the Greek and\nhimself; Cicero's Introduction to his Essay on Oratory expresses it. To\nbe practical was always the effort of the reflective character of the\nRomans, which was always placing new ends and seeking the means for\ntheir attainment; which loved moderation, not to secure beauty thereby,\nbut respected it as a means for a happy success (_medium tenuere\nbeati_); which did not possess serene self-limitation, or [Greek:\ns\u00f4phrosyn\u00ea], but calculation _quid valeant humeri, quid ferre recusent_;\nbut which, in general, went far beyond the Greeks in persistency of\nwill, in _constantia animi_. The schools were at first held publicly in\nshops; hence the name _trivium_. Very significant for the Roman is the\npredicate which he conferred upon theoretical subjects when he called\nthem _artes bon\u00e6_, _optim\u00e6_, _liberales_, _ingenu\u00e6_, &c., and brought\nforth the practical element in them.--\n\n\u00a7 222. (2) But the practical education could no longer keep its ground\nafter it had become acquainted with the \u00e6sthetic. The conquest of\nGreece, Asia Minor, and Egypt, made necessary, in a practical point of\nview, the acquisition of the Grecian tongue, so that these lands, so\npermeated with Grecian culture, might be thoroughly ruled. The Roman of\nfamily and property, therefore, took into his service Greek nurses and\nteachers who should give to his children, from their earliest years,\nGreek culture. It is, in the history of education, a great evil when a\nnation undertakes to teach a foreign tongue to its youth. Then the\nnecessity of trade with the Greeks caused the study of Rhetoric, so that\nnot only in the deliberations of the senate and people, but in law, the\nends might be better attained. Whatever effort the Roman government made\nto prevent the invasion of the Greek rhetorician was all in vain. The\nRoman youth sought for this knowledge, which was so necessary to them in\nforeign lands, e.g. in the flourishing school of rhetoric on the island\nof Rhodes. At last, even the study of Philosophy commended itself to the\npractical Roman, in order that he might recover for himself confidence\namid the disappointments of life. When his practical life did not bring\nhim any result, he devoted himself in his poverty to abstract\ncontemplation. The Greeks would have Philosophy for its own sake; the\nataraxy of the Stoics, Epicureans, and Skeptics even, desired the result\nof a necessary principle; but the Roman, on the contrary, wished to lift\nhimself by philosophemes above trouble and misfortune.\n\n--This direction which Philosophy took is noteworthy, not alone in\nCicero and Seneca, but at the fall of the Roman empire, when Boethius\nwrote in his prison his immortal work on the consolations of\nPhilosophy.--\n\n\u00a7 223. The earnestness which sought a definite end degenerated in the\nvery opposite of activity with him who had no definite aim. The idleness\nof the wealthy Roman, who felt himself to be the lord of a limitless\nworld, devoted itself to dissipation and desire for enjoyment, which, in\nits entire want of moderation, abused nature. The finest form of the\nextant education was that in _belles-lettres_, which also for the first\ntime came to belong to the sphere of Pedagogics. There had been a\ndegeneration of art in India and Greece, and also an artistic trifling.\nBut in Rome there arose a pursuit of art in order to win a certain\nconsideration in social position, and to create for one's self a\nrecreation in the emptiness of a soul satiated with sensual debauchery.\nSuch a seizing of art is frivolous, for it no longer recognizes its\nabsoluteness, and subordinates it as a means to subjective egotism.\nLiterary _salons_ then appear.\n\n--In the introduction to his _Cataline_, Sallust has painted\nexcellently this complete revolution in the Roman education. The younger\nPliny in his letters furnishes ample material to illustrate to us this\npursuit of _belles-lettres_. In Nero it became idiotic. We should\ntransgress our prescribed limits did we enter here into particulars. An\nanalysis would show the perversion of the \u00e6sthetic into the practical,\nthe \u00e6sthetic losing thereby its proper nature. But the Roman could not\navoid this perversion, because, according to his original aim, he could\nnot move except towards the _utile et honestum_.--\n\n\u00a7 224. (3) But this pursuit of fine art, this aimless parade, must at\nlast weary the Roman. He sought for himself again an object to which he\ncould vigorously devote himself. His sovereignty was assured, and\nconquest as an object could no more charm him. The national religion had\nfallen with the destruction of the national individuality. The soul\nlooked out over its historical life into an empty void. It sought to\nestablish a relation between itself and the next world by means of\nd\u00e6monic forces, and in place of the depreciated nationality and its\nreligion we find the eclecticism of the mystic society. There were, it\nis true, in national religions certain secret signs, rites, words, and\nmeanings; but now, for the first time in the history of the world, there\nappeared mysteries as pedagogical societies, which concerned themselves\nonly with private things and were indifferent to nationality. Everything\nwas profaned by the roughness of violence. Man believed no longer in the\nold gods, and the superstitious faith in ghosts became only a thing fit\nto frighten children with. Thus man took refuge in secrecy, which had\nfor his satiety a piquant charm.\n\n\u00a7 225. The education of the mysteries was twofold, theoretical and\npractical. In the theoretical we find a regular gradation of symbols and\nsymbolical acts through which one seemed gradually to attain to the\nrevelation of the secret; the practical contained a regular gradation of\nascetic actions alternating with an abandonment to wild orgies. Both\nraised one from the rank of the novice to that of the initiated. In the\nhigher orders they formed an ethical code of laws, and this form\nPedagogics has retained in all such secret culture, _mutatis mutandis_,\ndown to the Illuminati.\n\n--In the Roman empire, its Persian element was the worship of Mithras;\nits Egyptian, that of Isis; its Grecian, the Pythagorean doctrines. All\nthese three, however, were much mingled with each other. The Roman\nlegions, who really no longer had any native country, bore these\nartificial religions throughout the whole world. The confusion of\nexcitement led often to Somnambulism, which was not yet understood, and\nto belief in miracles. Apollonius of Tyana, the messiah of Ethnicism, is\nthe principal figure in this group; and, in comparison with him,\nJamblichus appears only as an enthusiast and Alexander of Abonoteichos\nas an impostor.--\n\n\nIII. _Abstract Individual Education._\n\n\u00a7 226. What the despair of the declining nations sought for in these\nmysteries was Individuality, which in its singularity is conscious of\nthe universality of the rational spirit, as its own essence. This\nindividuality existed more immediately in the Germanic race, which\nnevertheless, on account of its nature, formed first in Christianity its\ntrue actualization. It can be here only pointed out that they most\nthoroughly, in opposition to nature, to men, and to the gods, felt\nthemselves to be independent; as Tacitus says, \"_Securi adversus\nhomines, securi adversus Deos_.\" This individuality, which had only\nitself for an end, must necessarily be destroyed, and was saved only by\nChristianity, which overcame and enlightened its d\u00e6monic and defiant\nspirit. We cannot speak here of a system of Education. Respect for\npersonality, the free acknowledgment of the claims of woman, the loyalty\nto the leader chosen by themselves, loyalty to their friends (the idea\nof fellowship),--these features should all be well-noted, because from\nthem arose the feudalism of the middle ages. What C\u00e6sar and Tacitus tell\nus of the education of the Germans expresses only the emancipation of\nindividuality, which in its immediate crudeness had no other form in\nwhich to manifest itself than wars of conquest.\n\n--To the Roman there was something d\u00e6monic in the German. He perceived\ndimly in him his future, his master. When the Romans were to meet the\nCimbri and Teutons in the field, their commander had first to accustom\nthem for a whole day to the fearful sight of the wild, giant-like\nforms.--\n\n\nSECOND DIVISION.\n\nTHE SYSTEM OF THEOCRATIC EDUCATION.\n\n\u00a7 227. The system of National Education founded its first stage on the\nsubstantial basis of the family-spirit; its second stage on the division\nof the nation by means of division of labor which it makes permanent in\ncastes; its third stage presents the free opposition of the laity and\nclergy; in its next phase it makes war, immortality, and trade, by\nturns, its end; thirdly, it posits beauty, patriotic youth, and the\nimmediateness of individuality, as the essence of mankind, and at last\ndissolves the unity of nationality in the consciousness that all nations\nare really one since they are all human beings. In the intermixture of\nraces in the Roman world arises the conception of the human race, the\n_genus humanum_. Education had become eclectic: the Roman legions\nlevelled the national distinctions. In the wavering of all objective\nmorality, the necessity of self-education in order to the formation of\ncharacter appeared ever more and more clearly; but the conception, which\nlay at the foundation, was always, nevertheless, that of Roman, Greek,\nor German education. But in the midst of these nations another system\nhad striven for development, and this did not base itself on the natural\nconnection of nationality, but made this, for the first time, only a\nsecondary thing, and made the direct relation of man to God its chief\nidea. In this system God himself is the teacher. He manifests to man His\nwill as law, to which he must unconditionally conform for no other\nreason than that He is the Lord, and man His servant, who can have no\nother will than His. The obedience of man is therefore, in this system,\nabstract until through experience he gradually attains to the knowledge\nthat the will of God has in it the very essence of his own will.\nDescent, Talent, Events, Work, Beauty, Courage,--all these are\nindifferent things compared with the subjection of the human to the\ndivine will. To be well-pleasing to God is almost the same as belief in\nHim. Without this identity, what is natural in national descent is of no\nvalue. According to its form of manifestation, Judaism is below the\nGreek spirit. It is not beautiful, but rather grotesque. But in its\nessence, as the religion of the contradiction between the idea and its\nexistence, it goes beyond nature, which it perceives to be established\nby an absolute, conscious, and reasonable Will; while the Greek\nconcealed from himself only mythically his dependence on nature, on his\nmother-earth. The Jews have been preserved in the midst of all other\nculture by the elastic power of the thought of God as One who was free\nfrom the control of nature. The Jews have a patriotism in common with\nthe Romans. The Maccabees, for example, were not inferior to the Romans\nin greatness.\n\n--Abraham is the genuine Jew because he is the genuinely faithful man.\nHe does not hesitate to obey the horrible and inhuman command of his\nGod. Circumcision was made the token of the national unity, but the\nnation may assimilate members to itself from other nations through this\nrite. The condition always lies in belief in a spiritual relation to\nwhich the relation of nationality is secondary. The Jewish nation makes\nproselytes, and these are widely different from the _Socii_ of the\nRomans or the _Metoeci_ of the Athenians.--\n\n\u00a7 228. To the man who knows Nature to be the work of a single,\nincomparable, rational Creator, she loses independence. He is negatively\nfreed from her control, and sees in her only an absolute means. As\nopposed to the fanciful sensuous intuitions of Ethnicism, this seems to\nbe a backward step, but for the emancipation of man it is a progress. He\nno longer fears Nature but her Lord, and admires Him so much that prose\nrises to the dignity of poetry in his telological contemplation. Since\nman stands over and beyond nature, education is directed to morality as\nsuch, and spreads itself out in innumerable limitations, by means of\nwhich the distinction of man from nature is expressly asserted as a\ndifference. The ceremonial law appears often arbitrary, but in its\nprescriptions it gives man the satisfaction of placing himself as will\nin relation to will. For example, if he is forbidden to eat any\nspecified part of an animal, the ground of this command is not merely\nnatural--it is the will of the Deity. Man learns therefore, in his\nobedience to such directions, to free himself from his self-will, from\nhis natural desires. This exact outward conformity to subjectivity is\nthe beginning of wisdom, the purification of the will from all\nindividual egotism.\n\n--The rational substance of the Law is found always in the Decalogue.\nMany of our modern much-admired authors exhibit a superficiality\nbordering on shallowness when they comment alone on the absurdity of the\nmiracles, and abstract from the profound depth of the moral struggle,\nand from the practical rationality of the ten commandments.--\n\n\u00a7 229. Education in this theocratical system is on one side patriarchal.\nThe Family is very prominent, because it is considered to be a great\nhappiness for the individual to belong from his very earliest life to\nthe company of those who believe in the true God. On its other side it\nis hierarchical, as its ceremonial law develops a special office, which\nis to see that obedience is paid to its multifarious regulations. And,\nbecause these are often perfectly arbitrary, Education must, above all,\npractise the memory in learning them all, so that they may always be\nremembered. The Jewish monotheism shares this necessity with the\nsuperstition of ethnicism.\n\n\u00a7 230. But the technique proper of the mechanism is not the most\nimportant pedagogical element of the theocracy. We find this in its\nhistorical significance, since its history throughout has a pedagogical\ncharacter. For the people of God show us always, in their changing\nintercourse with their God, a progress from the external to the\ninternal, from the lower to the higher, from the past to the future. Its\nhistory, therefore, abounds in situations very interesting in a\npedagogical point of view, and in characters which are eternal models.\n\n\u00a7 231. (1) The will of God as the absolute authority is at first to\nthem, as law, external. But soon God adds to the command to obedience,\non one hand, the inducement of a promise of material prosperity, and on\nthe other hand the threat of material punishment. The fulfilment of the\nlaw is also encouraged by reflection on the profit which it brings. But,\nsince these motives are all external, they rise finally into the insight\nthat the law is to be fulfilled, not on their account, but because it is\nthe will of the Lord; not alone because it is conducive to our\nhappiness, but also because it is in itself holy, and written in our\nhearts: in other words, man proceeds from the abstract legality, through\nthe reflection of eud\u00e6monism, to the internality of moral sentiment--the\ncourse of all education.\n\n--This last stand-point is especially represented in the excellent\nGnomic of Jesus Sirach--a book so rich in pedagogical insight, which\npaints with master-strokes the relations of husband and wife, parents\nand children, master and servants, friend and friend, enemy and enemy,\nand the dignity of labor as well as the necessity of its division. This\npriceless book forms a side-piece from the theocratic stand-point to the\n_Republic_ of Plato and his laws on ethical government.--\n\n\u00a7 232. (2) The progress from the lower to the higher appeared in the\nconquering of the natural individuality. Man, as the servant of Jehovah,\nmust have no will of his own; but selfish naturalness arrayed itself so\nmuch the more vigorously against the abstract \"Thou shalt,\" allowed\nitself to descend into an abstraction from the Law, and often reached\nthe most unbridled extravagance. But since the Law in inexorable might\nalways remained the same, always persistent, in distinction from the\ninequalities of the deed of man, it forced him to come back to it, and\nto conform himself to its demands. Thus he learned criticism, thus he\nrose from naturalness into spirit. This progress is at the same time a\nprogress from necessity to freedom, because criticism always gradually\nopens a way for man into insight, so that he finds the will of God to be\nthe truth of his own self-determination. Because God is one and\nabsolute, there arises the expectation that His Will will become the\nbasis for the will of all nations and men. The criticism of the\nunderstanding must recognize a contradiction in the fact that the will\nof the true God is the law of only one nation; feared by other nations,\nmoreover, by reason of their very worship of God as a gloomy mystery,\nand detested as _odium generis humani_. And thus is developed the\nthought that the isolation of the believers will come to an end as soon\nas the other nations recognize their faith as the true one, and are\nreceived into it. Thus here, out of the deepest penetration of the soul\ninto itself, as among the Romans out of the fusion of nations, we see\nappear the idea of the human race.\n\n\u00a7 233. (3) The progress from the past to the future unfolded the ideal\nservant of God who fulfils all the Law, and so blots out the empirical\ncontradiction that the \"Thou shalt\" of the Law attains no adequate\nactuality. This Prince of Peace, who shall gather all nations under his\nbanner, can therefore have no other thing predicated of him than\nHoliness. He is not beautiful as the Greeks represented their ideal, not\nbrave and practical as was the venerated _Virtus_ of the Romans; he does\nnot place an infinite value on his individuality as the German does: but\nhe is represented as insignificant in appearance, as patient, as humble,\nas he who, in order to reconcile the world, takes upon himself the\ninfirmities and disgrace of all others. The ethnical nations have only a\nlost Paradise behind them; the Jews have one also before them. From this\nbelief in the Messiah who is to come, from the certainty which they have\nof conquering with him, from the power of esteeming all things of small\nimportance in view of such a future, springs the indestructible nature\nof the Jews. They ignore the fact that Christianity is the necessary\nresult of their own history. As the nation that is to be (_des\nSeinsollens_), they are merely a historical nation, the nation among\nnations, whose education--whenever the Jew has not changed and corrupted\nits nature through modern culture--is still always patriarchal,\nhierarchal, and mnemonic.\n\n\nTHIRD DIVISION.\n\nTHE SYSTEM OF HUMANITARIAN EDUCATION\n\n\u00a7 234. The systems of national and theocratic education came to the\nsame result, though by different ways, and this result is the conception\nof a human race in the unity of which the distinctions of different\nnations find their Truth. But with them this result is only a\nconception, being a thing external to their actuality. They arrive at\nthe painting of an ideal of the way in which the Messiah shall come. But\nthese ideals exist only in the mind, and the actual condition of the\npeople sometimes does not correspond to them at all, and sometimes only\nvery relatively. The idea of spirit had in these presuppositions the\npossibility of its concrete actualization; one individual man must\nbecome conscious of the universality and necessity of the will as being\nthe very essence of his own freedom, so that all heteronomy should be\ncancelled in the autonomy of spirit. Natural individuality appearing as\nnational determinateness was still acknowledged, but was deprived of its\nabstract isolation. The divine authority of the truth of the individual\nwill is to be recognized, but at the same time freed from its\nestrangement towards itself. While Christ was a Jew and obedient to the\ndivine Law, he knew himself as the universal man who determines himself\nto his own destiny; and while only distinguishing God, as subject, from\nhimself, yet holds fast to the unity of man and God. The system of\nhumanitarian education began to unfold from this principle, which no\nlonger accords the highest place to the natural unity of national\nindividuality, nor to the abstract obedience of the command of God, but\nto that freedom of the soul which knows itself to be absolute necessity.\nChrist is not a mere ideal of the thought, but is known as a living\nmember of actual history, whose life, sufferings and death for freedom\nform the security as to its absolute justification and truth. The\n\u00e6sthetic, philosophical, and political ideal are all found in the\nuniversal nature of the Christian ideal, on which account no one of them\nappears one-sided in the life of Christ. The principle of Human Freedom\nexcludes neither art, nor science, nor political feeling.\n\n\u00a7 235. In its conception of man the humanitarian education includes both\nthe national divisions and the subjection of all men to the divine law,\nbut it will no longer endure that one should grow into an isolating\nexclusiveness, and another into a despotism which includes in it\nsomewhat of the accidental. But this principle of humanity and human\nnature took root so slowly that its presuppositions were repeated within\nitself and were really conquered in this reproduction. These stages of\nculture were the Greek, the Roman, and the Protestant churches, and\neducation was metamorphosed to suit the formation of each of these.\n\n--For the sake of brevity we would wish to close with these general\ndefinitions; the unfolding of their details is intimately bound up with\nthe history of politics and of civilization. We shall be contented if we\ngive correctly the general whole.--\n\n\u00a7 236. Within education we can distinguish three epochs: the monkish,\nthe chivalric, and that education which is to fit one for civil life.\nEach of these endeavored to express all that belonged to humanity as\nsuch; but it was only after the recognition of the moral nature of the\nFamily, of Labor, of Culture, and of the conscious equal title of all\nmen to their rights, that this became really possible.\n\n\nI. _The Epoch of Monkish Education._\n\n\u00a7 237. The Greek Church seized the Christian principle still abstractly\nas deliverance from the world, and therefore, in the education\nproceeding from it, it arrived only at the negative form, positing the\nuniversality of the individual man as the renunciation of self. In the\ndogmatism of its teaching, as well as in the ascetic severity of its\npractical conduct, it was a reproduction of the theocratic principle.\nBut when this had assumed the form of national centralization, the Greek\nChurch dispensed with this, and, as far as regards its form, it returned\nagain to the quietism of the Orient.\n\n\u00a7 238. The monkish education is in general identical in all religions,\nin that, through the egotism of its way of living and the stoicism of\nits way of thinking, through the separation of its external existence\nand the mechanism of a thoughtless subjection to a general rule as well\nas to the special command of superiors, it fosters a spiritual and\nbodily dulness. The Christian monachism, therefore, as the fulfilment of\nmonachism in general, is at the same time its absolute dissolution,\nbecause, in its merely abstracting itself from the world instead of\naffirmatively conquering it, it contradicts the very principle of\nChristianity.\n\n\u00a7 239. We must notice as the fundamental error of this whole system,\nthat it does not in free individuality seek to produce the ideal of\ndivine-humanity, but to copy in external reproduction its historical\nmanifestation. Each human being must individually offer up as sacrifice\nhis own individuality. Each biography has its Bethlehem, its Tabor, and\nits Golgotha.\n\n\u00a7 240. Monachism looks upon freedom from one's self and from the world\nwhich Christianity demands only as an abstract renunciation of self,\nwhich it seeks to compass, like Buddhism, by the vow of poverty,\nchastity, and obedience, which must be taken by each individual for all\ntime.\n\n--This rejection of property, of marriage, and of self-will, is at the\nsame time the negation of work, of the family, and of responsibility for\none's actions. In order to avoid the danger of avarice and covetousness,\nof sensuality and of nepotism, of error and of guilt, monachism seizes\nthe convenient way of abstract severance from all the objective world\nwithout being able fully to carry out this negation. Monkish Pedagogics\nmust, in consequence, be very particular about an external separation of\ntheir disciples from the world, so as to make the work of abstraction\nfrom the world easier and more decided. It therefore builds cloisters in\nthe solitude of deserts, in the depth of forests, on the summits of\nmountains, and surrounds them with high walls having no apertures; and\nthen, so as to carry the isolation of the individual to its farthest\npossible extreme it constructs, within these cloisters, cells, in\nimitation of the ancient hermits--a seclusion the immediate consequence\nof which is the most limitless and most paltry curiosity.--\n\n\u00a7 241. Theoretically the monkish Pedagogics seeks, by means of the\ngreatest possible silence, to place the soul in a state of spiritual\nimmobility, which at last, through the want of all variety of thought,\ngoes over into entire apathy, and antipathy towards all intellectual\nculture. The principal feature of the practical culture consists in the\nmisapprehension that one should ignore Nature, instead of morally\nfreeing himself from her control. As she, again and again asserts\nherself, the monkish discipline proceeds to misuse her, and strives\nthrough fasting, through sleeplessness, through voluntary self-inflicted\npain and martyrdom, not only to subdue the wantonness of the flesh, but\nto destroy the love of life till it shall become a positive loathing of\nexistence. In and for itself the object of the monkish vow--property,\nthe family, and will--is not immoral. The vow is, on this account, very\neasy to violate. In order to prevent all temptation to this, monkish\nPedagogics invents a system of supervision, partly open, partly secret,\nwhich deprives one of all freedom of action, all freshness of thinking\nand of willing, and all poetry of feeling, by means of the perpetual\nshadow of spies and informers. The monks are well versed in all\npolice-arts, and the regular succession of the hierarchy spurs them on\nalways to distinguish themselves in them.\n\n\u00a7 242. The gloomy breath of this education penetrated all the relations\nof the Byzantine State. Even the education of the emperor was infected\nby it; and in the strife for freedom waged by the modern Greeks against\nthe Turks, the _Igumeni_ of the cloisters were the real leaders of the\ninsurrection. The independence of individuality, as opposed to monkish\nabstraction, more or less degenerates into the crude form of soldier and\npirate life. And thus it happened that this principle was not left to\nappear merely as an exception, but to be built up positively into\nhumanity; and this the German world, under the guidance of the Roman\nChurch, undertook to accomplish.\n\n\nII. _The Epoch of Chivalric Education._\n\n\u00a7 243. The Romish Church negated the abstract substantiality of the\nGreeks through the practical aim which she in her sanctity in works\nfounded, and by means of which she raised up German individuality to the\nidealism of chivalry, i.e. a free military service in behalf of\nChristendom.\n\n\u00a7 244. It is evident that the system of monkish education was taken up\ninto this epoch as one of its elements, being modified to conform to it:\ne.g. the Benedictines were accustomed to labor in agriculture and in the\ntranscribing of books, and this contradicted the idea of monachism,\nsince that in and for itself tends to an absolute forgetfulness of the\nworld and a perfect absence of all activity in the individual. The\nbegging orders were public preachers, and made popular the idea of love\nand unselfish devotion to others. They labored toward self-education,\nespecially by means of the ideal of the life of Christ; e.g. in Tauler's\nclassical book on the Imitation of Jesus, and in the work of\nThomas-\u00e0-Kempis which resembles it. Through a fixed contemplative\ncommunion with the conception of the Christ who suffered and died for\nLove, they sought to find content in divine rest and self-abandonment.\n\n\u00a7 245. German chivalry sprang from Feudalism. The education of those\npledged to military duty had become confined to practice in the use of\narms. The education of the chivalric vassals pursued the same course,\nrefining it gradually through the influence of court society and through\npoetry, which devoted itself either to the relating of graceful tales\nwhich were really works of art, or to the glorification of woman. Girls\nwere brought up without especial care. The boy until he was seven years\nold remained in the hands of women; then he became a lad (a young\ngentleman), and learned the manner of offensive and defensive warfare,\non foot and on horseback; between his sixteenth and eighteenth year,\nthrough a formal ceremony (the laying on of the sword), he was duly\nauthorized to bear arms. But whatever besides this he might wish to\nlearn was left to his own caprice.\n\n\u00a7 246. In contradistinction to the monkish education, Chivalry placed an\ninfinite value on individuality, and this it expressed in its extreme\nsensibility to the feeling of honor. Education, on this account,\nendeavored to foster this reflection of the self upon itself by means of\nthe social isolation in which it placed knighthood. The knight did not\ndelight himself with common possessions, but he sought for him who had\nbeen wronged, since with him he could find enjoyment as a conqueror. He\ndid not live in simple marriage, but strove for the piquant pleasure of\nmaking the wife of another the lady of his heart, and this often led to\nmoral and physical infidelity. And, finally, the knight did not obey\nalone the general laws of knightly honor, but he strove, besides, to\ndiscover for himself strange things, which he should undertake with his\nsword, in defiance of all criticism, simply because it pleased his\ncaprice so to do. He _sought adventures_.\n\n\u00a7 247. The reaction against the innumerable number of fantastic\nextravagancies arising from chivalry was the idea of the spiritual\nchivalry which was to unite the cloister and the town, abstract\nself-denial and military life, separation from the world and the\nsovereignty of the world--an undeniable advance, but an untenable\nsynthesis which could not prevent the dissolution of chivalry--this\nchivalry, which, as the rule of the stronger, induced for a long time\nthe destruction of all regular culture founded on principles, and\nbrought a period of absence of all education. In this perversion of\nchivalry to a grand vagabondism, and even to robbery, noble souls often\nrushed into ridiculous excesses. This decline of chivalry found its\ntruth in Citizenship, whose education, however, did not, like the\n[Greek: polis] and the _civitas_ of the ancients, limit itself to\nitself, but, through the presence of the principle of Christianity,\naccepted the whole circle of humanity as the aim of its culture.\n\n\nIII. _The Epoch of Education fitting one for Civil Life._\n\n\u00a7 248. The idea of the State had gradually worked itself up to a higher\nplane with trade and industry, and found in Protestantism its spiritual\nconfirmation. Protestantism, as the self assurance of the individual\nthat he was directly related to God without any dependence on the\nmediation of any man, rose to the truth in the autonomy of the soul, and\nbegan out of the abstract phantasmagoria of monachism and chivalry to\ndevelope Christianity, as the principle of humanitarian education, into\nconcrete actuality. The cities were not merely, in comparison with the\nclergy and the nobility, the \"third estate\"; but the citizen who himself\nmanaged his commonwealth, and defended its interests with arms,\ndeveloped into the citizen of a state which absorbed the clergy and\nnobility, and the state-citizen found his ultimate ideal in pure\nHumanity as cognized through reason.\n\n\u00a7 249. The phases of this development are (1) Civil education as such,\nin which we find chivalric education metamorphosed into the so-called\nnoble, both however being controlled as to education, within Catholicism\nby Jesuitism, within Protestantism by Pietism. (2) Against this tendency\nto the church, we find reacting on the one hand the devotion to a study\nof antiquity, and on the other the friendly alliance to immediate\nactuality, i.e. with Nature. We can name these periods of Pedagogics\nthose of its ideals of culture. (3) But the truth of all culture must\nforever remain moral freedom. After Education had arrived at a knowledge\nof the meaning of Idealism and Realism, it must seize as its absolute\naim the moral emancipation of man into Humanity; and it must conform its\nculture by this aim, since technical dexterity, friendly adroitness,\nproficiency in the arts, and scientific insight, can attain to their\nproper rank only through moral purity.\n\n\n_1. Civil Education as such._\n\n\u00a7 250. The one-sidedness of monkish and chivalric education was\ncancelled by civil education inasmuch as it destroyed the celibacy of\nthe monk and the estrangement of the knight from his family, doing this\nby means of the inner life of the family; for it substituted, in the\nplace of the negative emptiness of the duty of holiness of the celibate,\nthe positive morality of marriage and the family; while, instead of the\nabstract poverty and the idleness of the monkish piety and of\nknighthood, it asserted that property was the object of labor, i.e. it\nasserted the self-governed morality of civil society and of commerce;\nand, finally, instead of the servitude of the conscience in\nunquestioning obedience to the command of others, and instead of the\nfreakish self-sufficiency of the caprice of the knights, it demanded\nobedience to the laws of the commonwealth as representing his own\nself-conscious, actualized, practical Reason, in which laws the\nindividual can recognize and acknowledge himself.\n\n--As this civil education left free the sensuous enjoyment, freedom in\nthis was without bounds for a time, until, after men became accustomed\nto labor and to their freedom of action, the possibility of enjoyment\ncreated from within outward a moderation which sumptuary laws and\nprohibitions of gluttony, drunkenness, &c., could never create from the\nexternal side. What the monk inconsistently enjoyed with a bad\nconscience, the citizen and the clergyman could take possession of as a\ngift of God. After the first millennium of Christianity, when the earth\nhad not, according to the current prophecies, been destroyed, and after\nthe great plague in the fourteenth century, there was felt an immense\npleasure in living, which manifested itself externally in the fifteenth\ncentury in delicate wines, dainty food, great eating of meat, drinking\nof beer, and, in the domain of dress, in peaked shoes, plumes, golden\nchains, bells, &c. There was much venison, but, as yet, no potatoes, tea\nand coffee, &c. The feeling of men was quarrelsome. For a more exact\npainting of the Education of this time, very valuable authors are\nSebastian Brant, Th. Murner, Ulrich von Hutten, Fischart, and Hans\nSachs. Gervinus is almost the only one who has understood how to make\nthis material useful in its relation to spirit.--\n\n\u00a7 251. In contrast with the heaven-seeking of the monks and the\nsentimental love-making of the knight, civil education established, as\nits principle, Usefulness, which traced out in things their conformity\nto a proposed end in order to gain as great a mastery over them as\npossible. The understanding was trained with all exactness that it might\nclearly seize all the circumstances. But since family-life did not allow\nthe egotism of the individual ever to become as great as was the case\nwith the monk and the knight, and since the cheer of a sensuous\nenjoyment in cellar and kitchen, in clothing and furniture, in common\ngames and in picturesque parades, penetrated the whole being with soft\npleasure, there was developed with all propriety and sobriety a\nhouse-morality, and, with all the prose of labor, a warm and kindly\ndisposition, which left room for innocent merriment and roguery, and\nfound, in conformity to religious services, its serious transfiguration.\nBeautiful burgher-state, thou wast weakened by the thirty years' war,\nand hast been only accidentally preserved sporadically in Old England\nand in some places in Germany, only to be at last swept away by the\nflood of modern world-pain, political sophistry, and anxiety for the\nfuture!\n\n\u00a7 252. The citizen paid special attention to public education,\nheretofore wholly dependent upon the church and the cloister; he\norganized city schools, whose teachers, it is true, for a long time\ncompassed only accidental culture, and were often employed only for\ntumultuous and short terms. The society of the brotherhood of the\nHieronymites introduced a better system of instruction before the close\nof the fourteenth century, but education had often to be obtained from\nthe so-called travelling scholars (_vagantes_, _bacchantes_,\n_scholastici_, _goliardi_). The teachers of the so-called _schol\u00e6\nexteriores_, in distinction from the schools of the cathedral and\ncloister, were called now _locati_, then _stampuales_--in German,\n_Kinder-Meister_. The institution of German schools soon followed the\nLatin city schools. In order to remove the anarchy in school matters,\nthe citizens aided the rise of universities by donations and\nwell-invested funds, and sustained the street-singing of the city\nscholars (_currende_), an institution which was well-meant, but which\noften failed of its end because on the one hand it was often misused as\na mere means of subsistence, and on the other hand the sense of honor of\nthose to whom it was devoted not unfrequently became, through their\nmanner of living, lowered to humiliation. The defect of the monkish\nmethod of instruction became ever more apparent, e.g. the silly tricks\nof their mnemotechnique, the utter lack of anything which deserved the\nname of any practical knowledge, &c. The necessity of instruction in the\nuse of arms led to democratic forms. Printing favored the same. Men\nbegan to concern themselves about good text-books. Melanchthon was the\nhero of the Protestant world, and as a pattern was beyond his time. His\nDialectics, Rhetoric, Physics, and Ethics, were reprinted innumerable\ntimes, commented upon, and imitated. After him Amos Comenius, in the\nseventeenth century, had the greatest influence through his _Didactica\nMagna_ and his _Janua Reserta_. In a narrower sphere, treating of the\nfoundation of Gymnasial Philology, the most noticeable is Sturm of\nStrasburg. The universities in Catholic countries limited themselves to\nthe Scholastic Philosophy and Theology, together with which we find\nslowly struggling up the Roman Law and the system of Medicine from\nBologna and Salerno. But Protestantism first raised the university to\nany real universality. T\u00fcbingen, K\u00f6nigsberg, Wittenberg, Jena, Leipzic,\nHalle, G\u00f6ttingen, &c., were the first schools for the study of all\nsciences, and for their free and productive pursuit.\n\n\u00a7 253. The Commons, which at first appeared with the clergy and the\nnobility as the Third Estate, formed an alliance with monarchy, and both\ntogether produced a transformation of the chivalric education.\nAbsolutism reduced the knights to mere nobles, to whom it truly conceded\nthe prerogative of appointment as spiritual prelates as well as officers\nand counsellors of state, but only on the condition of the most complete\nsubmission; and then, to satisfy them, it invented the artificial\ndrinking festivals, of a splendid life at court, and a\ntemptingly-impressive sovereignty of beauty. In this condition, the\neducation of the nobles was essentially changed in so far as to cease to\nbe alone military. To the art of war, which moreover was made so very\nmuch milder by the invention of fire-arms, must be now added an activity\nof the mind which could no longer dispense with some knowledge of\nHistory, Heraldry, Genealogy, Literature, and Mythology. Since the\nFrench nation soon enough gave tone to the style of conversation, and\nafter the time of Louis XIV. controlled the politics of the continent,\nthe French language, as conventional and diplomatic, became a constant\nelement in the education of the nobility in all the other countries of\nEurope.\n\n--Practically the education of the noble endeavored to make the\nindividual quite independent, so that he should, by means of the\nimportant quality of an advantageous personal appearance and the\nprudence of his agreeable behavior, make himself into a ruler of all\nother men, capable of enjoying his own position, i.e. he should copy in\nminiature the manners of an absolute sovereign. To this was added an\nempirical knowledge of men by means of ethical maxims, so that they\nmight discover the weak side of every man, and so be able to outwit him.\n_Mundus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur._ According to this, every man had\nhis price. They did not believe in the Nemesis of a divine destiny; on\nthe contrary, disbelief in the higher justice was taught. One must be so\nelastic as to suit himself to all situations, and, as a caricature of\nthe ancient ataraxy, he must acquire as a second nature a manner\nperfectly indifferent to all changes, the impassibility of an\naristocratic repose, the amphibious _sang-froid_ of the \"gentleman.\" The\nman in the world as the man of the world sought his ideal in endless\ndissimulation, and in this, as the flowering of his culture, he took the\nhighest interest. Intrigue, in love as well as in politics, was the soul\nof the nobleman's existence.--\n\n--They endeavored to complete the refinement of manners by sending the\nyoung man away with a travelling tutor. This was very good, but\ndegenerated at last into the mechanism of the foolish travelling of the\ntourist. The noble was made a foreigner, a stranger to his own country,\nby means of his abode at Paris or Venice, while the citizen gradually\noutstripped him in genuine culture.--\n\n\u00a7 254. The education of the citizen as well as that of the noble was\ntaken possession of, in Catholic countries by the Jesuits, in Protestant\ncountries by the Pietists: by the first, with a military strictness; by\nthe second, in a social and effeminate form. Both, however, agreed in\ndestroying individuality, inasmuch as the one degraded man into a\nwill-less machine for executing the commands of others, and the other\ndeadened him in cultivating the feeling of his sinful worthlessness.\n\n\n(_a_) _Jesuitic Education._\n\n\u00a7 255. Jesuitism combined the maximum of worldly freedom with an\nappearance of the greatest piety. Proceeding from this stand-point, it\ndevoted itself in education to elegance and showy knowledge, to\ndiplomacy and what was suitable and convenient in morals. To bring the\nfuture more into its power, it adapted itself not only to youth in\ngeneral, but especially to the youth of the nobler classes. To please\nthese, the Jesuits laid great stress upon a fine deportment. In their\ncolleges dancing and fencing were well-taught. They knew how well they\nshould by this course content the noble, who had by preference usurped\nthe name of Education for this technical way of giving formal expression\nto personality.\n\n--In instruction they developed so exact a mechanism that they gained\nthe reputation of having model school regulations, and even Protestants\nsent their children to them. From the close of the sixteenth century to\nthe present time they have based their teaching upon the _ratio et\ninstitutio Studiorum Societatis Jesu_ of Claudius Aquaviva, and,\nfollowing that, they distinguish two courses of teaching, a higher and a\nlower. The lower included nothing but an external knowledge of the Latin\nlanguage, and some fortuitous knowledge of History, of Antiquities, and\nof Mythology. The memory was cultivated as a means of keeping down free\nactivity of thought and clearness of judgment. The higher course\ncomprehended Dialectics, Rhetoric, Physics, and Morals. Dialectics\nappeared in the form of Sophistry. In Rhetoric, they favored the\npolemical-emphatic style of the African fathers of the Church and their\npompous phraseology; in Physics, they stopped with Aristotle, and\nespecially advised the reading of the books _De Generatione et\nCorruptione_, and _De Coelo_, on which they commented after their\nfashion; finally, in Morals casuistic skepticism was their central\npoint. They made much of Rhetoric on account of their sermons, giving to\nit much attention, and introduced especially Declamation. Contriving\nshowy public examinations under the guise of Latin School Comedies, they\nthus amused the public, disposed them to approval, and at the same time\nquite innocently practised the pupil in dissimulation.--\n\n--Diplomacy in behavior was made necessary to the Jesuits as well by\ntheir strict military discipline as by their system of reciprocal\nmistrust, espionage, and informing. Abstract obedience was a reason for\nany act of the pupils, and they were freed from all responsibility as to\nits moral justification. This empirical exact following out of all\ncommands, and refraining from any criticism as to principles, created a\nmoral indifference, and, from the necessity of having consideration for\nthe peculiarities and caprices of the superior on whom all others were\ndependent, arose eye-service, and the coldness of isolation sprang from\nthe necessity which each felt of being on his guard against every other\nas against a tale-bearer. The most deliberate hypocrisy and pleasure in\nintrigue merely for the sake of intrigue--this most refined poison of\nmoral corruption--were the result. Jesuitism had not only an interest in\nthe material profit, which, when it had corrupted souls, fell to its\nshare, but it also had an interest in the process of corruption. With\nabsolute indifference as to the idea of morality, and absolute\nindifference as to the moral quality of the means used to attain its\nend, it rejoiced in the superiority of secrecy, of the accomplished and\ncalculating understanding, and in deceiving the credulous by means of\nits graceful, seemingly-perfect, moral language.--\n\n--It is not necessary to speak here of the morality of the Order. It is\nsufficiently recognized as the contradiction, that the idea of morality\ninsists upon the eternal necessity of every deed, but that in the\nrealizing of the action all determinations should be made relative and\nshould vary with the circumstances. As to discipline, they were always\nguided by their fundamental principle, that body and soul, as in and for\nthemselves one, could vicariously suffer for each other. Thus penitence\nand contrition were transformed into a perfect materialism of outward\nactions, and hence arose the punishments of the Order, in which fasting,\nscourging, imprisonment, mortification, and death, were formed into a\nmechanical artificial system.--\n\n\n(_b_) _Pietistic Education._\n\n\u00a7 256. Jesuitism would make machines of man, Pietism would dissolve\nhim in the feeling of his sinfulness: either would destroy his\nindividuality. Pietism proceeded from the principle of Protestantism,\nas, in the place of the Catholic Pelagianism with its sanctification by\nworks, it offered justication by faith alone. In its tendency to\ninternality was its just claim. It would have even the letters of the\nBible translated into the vivacity of sentiment. But in its execution it\nfell into the error of one-sidedness in that it placed, instead of the\nactuality of the spirit and its freedom, the confusion of a limited\npersonality, placing in its stead the personality of Christ in an\nexternal manner, and thus brought back into the very midst of\nProtestantism the principle of monachism--an abstract renunciation of\nthe world. Since Protestantism has destroyed the idea of the cloister,\nit could produce estrangement from the world only by exciting public\nopinion against such elements of society and culture which it\nstigmatized as _worldly_ for its members, e.g. card-playing, dancing,\nthe theatre, &c. Thus it became negatively dependent upon works; for\nsince its followers remained in reciprocal action with the world, so\nthat the temptation to backsliding was a permanent one, it must watch\nover them, exercise an indispensable moral-police control over them, and\nthus, by the suspicion of each other which was involved, take up into\nitself the Jesuitical practice, although in a very mild and affectionate\nway. Instead of the forbidden secrecy of the cloister, it organized a\nseparate company, which we, in its regularly constituted assembly, call\na conventicle. Instead of the cowl, it put on its youth a dress like\nthat of the world, but scant and ashen-colored; it substituted for the\ntonsure closely-cut hair and shaven beard, and it often went beyond the\nobedience of the monks in its expression of pining humility and prudish\ncomposure. Education within such a circle could not well recognize\nnature and history as manifestations of God, but it must consider them\nto be limitations to their union with God, from which death can first\nthen completely release them. The soul which knew that its home could be\nfound only in the future world, must feel itself to be a stranger upon\nthe earth, and from such an opinion there must arise an indifference and\neven a contempt for science and art, as well as an aversion for a life\nof active labor, though an unwilling and forced tribute might be paid to\nit. Philosophy especially was to be shunned as dangerous. Bible\nlectures, the catechism and the hymn-book, were the one thing needful to\nthe \"poor in spirit.\" Religious poetry and music were, of all the arts,\nthe only ones deserving of any cultivation. The education of Pietism\nendeavored, by means of a carefully arranged series of representations,\nto create in its disciples the feeling of their absolute nothingness,\nvileness, godlessness, and abandonment by God, in order to displace the\ntorment of despair as to themselves and the world by a warm, dramatic,\nand living relation to Christ--a relation in which all the Eroticism of\nthe mystical passion of the begging-friars was renewed in a somewhat\nmilder form and with a strong tendency to a sentimental sweetishness.\n\n\n_2. The Ideal of Culture._\n\n\u00a7 257. Civil Education arose from the recognition of marriage and the\nfamily, of labor and enjoyment, of the equality of all before the Law,\nand of the duty of self-determination. Jesuitism in the Catholic world\nand Pietism in the Protestant were the reaction against this\nrecognition--a return into the abstract asceticism of the middle ages,\nnot however in its purity, but mixed with some regard for worldly\npossessions. In opposition to this reaction the commonwealth produced\nanother, in which it undertook to deliver individuality by means of a\nreversed alienation. On the one hand, it absorbed itself in the\nconception of the Greek-Roman world. In the practical interests of the\npresent, it externalized man in a past which held to the present no\nimmediate relation, or it externalized him in the affairs which were to\nserve him as means of his comfort and enjoyment; it created an abstract\nidealism--a reproduction of the old view of the world--or an abstract\nRealism in a high appreciation of things which should be considered of\nvalue only as a means. In one direction, Individuality proceeded towards\na dead nationality; in the other, towards an unlimited\nworld-commonwealth. In one case, the ideal was the \u00e6sthetic\nrepublicanism of the Greeks; in the other, the utilitarian\ncosmopolitanism of the Romans. But, in considering the given\ncircumstances, both united in the feeling of humanity, with its\nreconciliatory and pitying gentleness toward the beggar or the criminal.\n\n\n(_a_) _The Humanitarian Ideal._\n\n\u00a7 258. The Oriental-theocratic education is immanent in Christian\neducation through the Bible. Through the mediation of the Greek and\nRoman churches the views of the ancient world were subsumed but not\nentirely subdued. To accomplish this was the problem of humanitarian\neducation. It aimed to teach the Latin and Greek languages, expecting\nthus to secure the action of a purely humane disposition. The Greeks and\nRomans being sharply marked nationalities, how could one cherish such\nexpectations? It was possible only relatively in contradiction, partly\nto a provincial population from whom all genuine political sense had\ndeparted, partly to a church limited by a confessional, to which the\nidea of humanity as such had become almost lost in dogmatic\nfault-findings. The spirit was refreshed in the first by the\ncontemplation of the pure patriotism of the ancients, and in the second\nby the discovery of Reason among the heathen. In contrast to\nformlessness distracted by the want of all ideal of culture of\nprovincialism and dogmatic confusions, we find the power of\nrepresentation of ancient art. The so-called uselessness of learning\ndead languages imparted to the mind, it knew not how, an ideal drift.\nThe very fact that it could not find immediate profit in its knowledge\ngave it the consciousness of a higher value than material profit. The\nideal of the Humanities was the truth to Nature which was found in the\nthought-painters of the ancient world. The study of language merely with\nregard to its form, must lead one involuntarily to the actual seizing of\nits content. The Latin schools were fashioned into _Gymnasia_, and the\nuniversities contained not merely professors of Eloquence, but also\nteachers of Philology.\n\n\n(_b_) _The Philanthropic Ideal._\n\n\u00a7 259. The humanitarian tendency reached its extreme in the abstract\nforgetting of the present, and the omitting to notice its just claim.\nMan discovered at last that he was not at home with himself in Rome and\nAthens. He spoke and wrote Latin, if not like Cicero, at least like\nMuretius, but he often found himself awkward in expressing his meaning\nin his mother-tongue. He was often very learned, but he lacked judgment.\nHe was filled with enthusiasm for the republicanism of Greece and Rome,\nand yet at the same time was himself exceedingly servile to his\nexcellent and august lords. Against this gradual deadening of active\nindividuality, the result of a perverted study of the classics, we find\nnow reacting the education of enlightenment, which we generally call the\nphilanthropic. It sought to make men friendly to the immediate course of\nthe world. It placed over against the learning of the ancient languages\nfor their own sake, the acquisition of the more needful branches of\nMathematics, Physics, Geography, History, and the modern languages,\ncalling these the real studies. Nevertheless it often retained the\ninstruction in the Latin language because the Romance languages have\nsprung from it, and because, through its long domination, the universal\nterminology of Science, Art, and Law, is rooted in it. Philanthropy\ndesired to develope the social side of its disciple through an abstract\nof practical knowledge and personal accomplishments, and to lead him\nagain, in opposition to the hermit-like sedentary life of the\nbook-pedant, out into the fields and the woods. It desired to imitate\nlife even in its method, and to instruct pleasantly in the way of play\nor by dialogue. It would add to the simple letters and names the\ncontemplation of the object itself, or at least of its representation by\npictures; and in this direction, in the conversation-literature which it\nprepared for children, it sometimes fell into childishness. It performed\na great service when it gave to the body its due, and introduced simple,\nnatural dress, bathing, gymnastics, pedestrian excursions, and a\nhardening against the influences of wind and weather. As this\nPedagogics, so friendly to children, deemed that it could not soon\nenough begin to honor them as citizens of the world, it was guilty in\ngeneral of the error of presupposing as already finished in its children\nmuch that it itself should have gradually developed; and as it wished to\neducate the European as such, or rather man as such, it came into an\nindifference concerning the concrete distinctions of nationality and\nreligion. It coincided with the philologists in placing, in a concealed\nway, Socrates above Christ, because he had worked no miracles, and\ntaught only morality. In such a dead cosmopolitanism, individuality\ndisappeared in the indeterminateness of a general humanity, and saw\nitself forced to agree with the humanistic education in proclaiming the\ntruth of Nature as the pedagogical ideal, with the distinction, that\nwhile Humanism believed this ideal realized in the Greeks and Romans,\nPhilanthropism found itself compelled to presuppose an abstract notion,\nand often manifested a not unjustifiable pleasure in recognizing in the\nIndians of North America, or of Otaheite, the genuine man of nature.\nPhilosophy first raised these conceptions to the idea of the State,\nwhich fashioned the cognition of Reason and of the reform which follows\nfrom its idea, into an organic element in itself.\n\n--The course which the developing of the philanthropic ideal has taken\nis as follows: (1) Rousseau in his writings, _Emile_ and the _Nouvelle\nHeloise_, first preached the evangel of Natural Education, the\nabstraction from History, the negation of existing culture, and the\nreturn to the simplicity and innocence of nature. Although he often\nhimself testified in his experience his own proneness to evil in a very\ndiscouraging way, he fixed as an almost unlimited axiom in French and\nGerman Pedagogics his principal maxim, that man is by nature good. (2)\nThe reformatory ideas of Rousseau met with only a very infrequent and\nsporadic introduction among the Romanic nations, because among them\neducation was too dependent on the church, and retained its\ncloister-like seclusion in seminaries, colleges, &c. In Germany, on the\ncontrary, it was actualized, and the _Philanthropia_, established by\nBasedow in Dessau, Brunswick, and Schnepfenthal, made experiments, which\nnevertheless very soon departed somewhat from the ultraism of Basedow\nand had very excellent results. (3) Humanity existed _in concreto_ only\nin the form of nations. The French nation, in their revolution, tried\nthe experiment of abstracting from their history, of levelling all\ndistinctions of culture, of enthroning a despotism of Reason, and of\norganizing itself as humanity, pure and simple. The event showed the\nimpossibility of such a beginning. The national energy, the historical\nimpulse, the love of art and science, came forth from the midst of the\nrevolutionary abstraction, which was opposed to them, only the more\nvigorously. The _grande nation_, their _grande arm\u00e9e_, and\n_gloire_--that is to say, for France--absorbed all the humanitarian\nphases. In Germany the philanthropic circle of education was limited to\nthe higher ranks. There was no exclusiveness in the _Philanthropia_, for\nthere nobles and citizens, Catholics and Protestants, Russians and\nSwiss, were mingled; but these were always the children of wealthy\nfamilies, and to these the plan of education was adapted. Then appeared\nPestalozzi and directed education also to the lower classes of\nsociety--those which are called, not without something approaching to a\nderogatory meaning, _the people_. From this time dates popular\neducation, the effort for the intellectual and moral elevation of the\nhitherto neglected atomistic human being of the non-property-holding\nmultitude. There shall in future be no dirty, hungry, ignorant, awkward,\nthankless, and will-less mass, devoted alone to an animal existence. We\ncan never rid ourselves of the lower classes by having the wealthy give\nsomething, or even their all, to the poor, so as to have no property\nthemselves; but we can rid ourselves of it in the sense that the\npossibility of culture and independent self-support shall be open to\nevery one, because he is a human being and a citizen of the\ncommonwealth. Ignorance and rudeness and the vice which springs from\nthem, and the malevolent frame of mind against the human race, which are\nbound up with crime--these shall disappear. Education shall train man to\nself-conscious obedience to law, as well as to kindly feeling towards\nthe erring, and to an effort not merely for their removal but for their\nimprovement. But the more Pestalozzi endeavored to realize his ideal of\nhuman dignity, the more he comprehended that the isolated power of a\nprivate man could not attain it, but that the nation itself must make\ntheir own education their first business. Fichte by his lectures first\nmade the German nation fully accept these thoughts, and Prussia was the\nfirst state which, by her public schools and her conscious preparation\nfor defence, broke the path for National Education; while among the\nRomanic nations, in spite of their more elaborate political formalism,\nit still depends partly upon the church and partly upon the accident of\nprivate enterprise. Pestalozzi also laid a foundation for a national\npedagogical literature by his story of _Leonard and Gertrude_. This book\nappeared at first in 1784, i.e. in the same year in which Schiller's\n_Robbers_ and Kant's _Critique of Pure Reason_ announced a new phase in\nthe Drama and in Philosophy.--\n\n--The incarnation of God, which was, up to the time of the Reformation,\nan esoteric mystery of the Church, has since then become continually\nmore and more an exoteric problem of the State.--\n\n\n_3. Free Education._\n\n\u00a7 260. The ideal of culture of the humanitarian and the philanthropic\neducation was taken up into the conception of an education which\nrecognizes the Family, social caste, the Nation, and Religion, as\npositive elements of the practical spirit, but which will know each of\nthese as determined from within through the idea of humanity, and laid\nopen for reciprocal dialectic with the rest. Physical development shall\nbecome the subject of a national system of gymnastics fashioned for use,\nand including in itself the knowledge of the use of arms. Instruction\nshall, in respect to the general encyclop\u00e6dic culture, be the same for\nall, and parallel to this shall run a system of special schools to\nprepare for the special avocations of life. The method of instruction\nshall be the simple representation of the special idea of the subject,\nand no longer the formal breadth of an acquaintance with many subjects\nwhich may find outside the school its opportunity, but within it has no\nmeaning except as the history of a science or an art. Moral culture must\nbe combined with family affection and the knowledge of the laws of the\ncommonwealth, so that the dissension between individual morality and\nobjective legality may ever more and more disappear. Education shall,\nwithout estranging the individual from the internality of the family,\naccustom him more and more to public life, because criticism of this is\nthe only thing which can prevent the cynicism of private life, the\nhalf-ness of knowledge and will, and the spirit of caste, which has so\nextensively prevailed. The individual shall be educated into a\nself-consciousness of the essential equality and freedom of all men, so\nthat he shall recognize and acknowledge himself in each one and in all.\nBut this essential and solid unity of all men shall not evaporate into\nthe insipidity of a humanity without distinctions, but instead it shall\nrealize the form of a determinate individuality and nationality, and\nshall enlighten the idiosyncrasy of its nation into a broad humanity.\nThe unrestricted striving after Beauty, Truth, and Freedom, actually\nthrough its own strength and immediately, not merely mediately through\necclesiastical consecration, will become Religion.\n\nThe Education of the State must rise to a preparation for the\nunfettered activity of self-conscious Humanity.\n\n\n  THE SCIENCE OF EDUCATION.\n\n  A PARAPHRASE OF DR. KARL ROSENKRANZ'S\n  PAEDAGOGIK ALS SYSTEM.\n\n  BY ANNA C. BRACKETT.\n\n  ST. LOUIS:\n  G. I. JONES AND COMPANY.\n  1878.\n\n\n  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by\n  WILLIAM T. HARRIS,\n  In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe translation of \"Pedagogics as a System\" was prepared and published\nfive years ago. The wide demand for it that has made itself known since\nthat time, especially in normal schools, has proved the value of such\nworks in the domain of education. At the same time, the difficulty the\nstudents have always found in its use--a difficulty inseparable from any\ntranslation of a German metaphysical treatise--has led us to the\nconviction that a paraphrase into a more easily understood form is a\nnecessity, if the thought of Rosenkranz is to be appropriated by the\nvery class who are most in need of it. As was remarked in the preface to\nthe translation, we have in English no other work of similar size which\ncontains so much that is valuable to those engaged in the work of\neducation. It is no compendium of rules or formulas, but rather a\nsystematic, logical treatment of the subject, in which the attention is,\nas it were, concentrated upon the whole problem of education, while that\nproblem is allowed to work itself out before us. To paraphrase the\ntext--or, rather, to translate it from the metaphysical language in\nwhich it at present appears into a language more easy of\ncomprehension--without losing the real significance of the statements,\nis the task which is here undertaken. Free illustrations and suggestions\nhave been interwoven to give point and application to the thoughts and\nprinciples stated. This translation, or paraphrase, follows the\nparagraphs of the original and of the first translation. The analysis of\nthe whole work, as it appeared in the original translation, is appended\nat the end of the \"Introduction,\" as a guide to the student.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SCIENCE OF EDUCATION.\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\u00a7 1. The science of Pedagogics may be called a secondary science,\ninasmuch as it derives its principles from others. In this respect it\ndiffers from Mathematics, which is independent. As it concerns the\ndevelopment of the human intelligence, it must wait upon Psychology for\nan understanding of that upon which it is to operate, and, as its means\nare to be sciences and arts, it must wait upon them for a knowledge of\nits materials. The science of Medicine, in like manner, is dependent on\nthe sciences of Biology, Chemistry, Physics, etc. Moreover, as Medicine\nmay have to deal with a healthy or unhealthy body, and may have it for\nits province to preserve or restore health, to assist a natural process\n(as in the case of a broken bone), or to destroy an unnatural one (as in\nthe case of the removal of a tumor), the same variety of work is imposed\nupon Education.[1]\n\n\u00a7 2. Since the rules of Pedagogics must be extremely flexible, so that\nthey may be adapted to the great variety of minds, and since an infinite\nvariety of circumstances may arise in their application, we find, as we\nshould expect, in all educational literature room for widely differing\nopinions and the wildest theories; these numerous theories, each of\nwhich may have a strong influence for a season, only to be overthrown\nand replaced by others.[2] It must be acknowledged that educational\nliterature, as such, is not of a high order. It has its cant like\nreligious literature. Many of its faults, however, are the result of\nhonest effort, on the part of teachers, to remedy existing defects, and\nthe authors are, therefore, not harshly to be blamed. It is also to be\nremembered that the habit of giving reproof and advice is one fastened\nin them by the daily necessity of their professional work.[3]\n\n\u00a7 3. As the position of the teacher has ceased to be undervalued, there\nhas been an additional impetus given to self-glorification on his part,\nand this also--in connection with the fact that schools are no longer\nisolated as of old, but subject to constant comparison and\ncompetition--leads to much careless theorizing among its teachers,\nespecially in the literary field.\n\n\u00a7 4. Pedagogics, because it deals with the human spirit, belongs, in a\ngeneral classification of the sciences, to the philosophy of spirit, and\nin the philosophy of spirit it must be classified under the practical,\nand not the merely theoretical, division. For its problem is not merely\nto comprehend the nature of that with which it has to deal, the human\nspirit--its problem is not merely to influence one mind (that of the\npupil) by another (that of the teacher)--but to influence it in such a\nway as to produce the mental freedom of the pupil. The problem is,\ntherefore, not so much to obtain performed works as to excite mental\nactivity. A creative process is required. The pupil is to be forced to\ngo in certain beaten tracks, and yet he is to be so forced to go in\nthese that he shall go of his own freewill. All teaching which does not\nleave the mind of the pupil free is unworthy of the name. It is true\nthat the teacher must understand the nature of mind, as he is to deal\nwith mind, but when he has done this he has still his main principle of\naction unsolved; for the question is, knowing the nature of the mind,\nHow shall he incite it to action, already predetermined in his own mind,\nwithout depriving the mind of the pupil of its own free action? How\nshall he restrain and guide, and yet not enslave?\n\nIf, in classifying all sciences, as suggested at the beginning of this\nsection, we should subdivide the practical division of the Philosophy of\nSpirit, which might be called Ethics, one could find a place for\nPedagogics under some one of the grades of Ethics. The education which\nthe child receives through the influence of family life lies at the\nbasis of all other teaching, and what the child learns of life, its\nduties, and possibilities, in its own home, forms the foundation for all\nafter-work. On the life of the family, then, as a presupposition, all\nsystems of Education must be built. In other words, the school must not\nattempt to initiate the child into the knowledge of the world--it must\nnot assume the care of its first training; that it must leave to the\nfamily.[4] But the science of Pedagogics does not, as a science,\nproperly concern itself with the family education, or with that point of\nthe child's life which is dominated by the family influence. That is\neducation, in a certain sense, without doubt, but it does not properly\nbelong to a science of Pedagogics. But, on the other hand, it must be\nremembered that this science, as here expounded, presupposes a previous\nfamily life in the human being with whom it has to deal.\n\n\u00a7 5. Education as a science will present the necessary and universal\nprinciples on which it is based; Education as an art will consist in the\npractical realization of these in the teacher's work in special places,\nunder special circumstances, and with special pupils. In the skillful\napplication of the principles of the science to the actual demands of\nthe art lies the opportunity for the educator to prove himself a\ncreative artist; and it is in the difficulty involved in this practical\nwork that the interest and charm of the educator's work consists.\n\nThe teacher must thus adapt himself to the pupil. But, in doing so, he\nmust have a care that he do not carry this adaptation to such a degree\nas to imply that the pupil is not to change; and he must see to it,\nalso, that the pupil shall always be worked upon by the matter which he\nis considering, and not too much by the personal influence of the\nteacher through whom he receives it.[5]\n\n\u00a7 6. The utmost care is necessary lest experiments which have proved\nsuccessful in certain cases should be generalized into rules, and a\nformal, dead creed, so to speak, should be adopted. All professional\nexperiences are valuable as material on which to base new conclusions\nand to make new plans, but only for that use. Unless the day's work is,\nevery day, a new creation, a fatal error has been made.\n\n\u00a7 7. Pedagogics as a science must consider Education--\n\n  (1) In its general idea;\n\n  (2) In its different phases;\n\n  (3) In the special systems arising from this general idea,\n  acting under special circumstances at special times.[6]\n\n\u00a7 8. With regard to the First Part, we remark that by Education, in its\ngeneral idea, we do not mean any mere history of Pedagogics, nor can any\nhistory of Pedagogics be substituted for a systematic exposition of the\nunderlying idea.\n\n\u00a7 9. The second division considers Education under three heads--as\nphysical, intellectual, and moral--and forms, generally, the principal\npart of all pedagogical treatises.\n\nIn this part lies the greatest difficulty as to exact limitation. The\nideas on these divisions are often undefined and apt to be confounded,\nand the detail of which they are capable is almost unlimited, for we\nmight, under this head, speak of all kinds of special schools, such as\nthose for war, art, mining, etc.\n\n\u00a7 10. In the Third Part we consider the different realizations of the\none general idea of Pedagogics as it has developed itself under\ndifferent circumstances and in different ages of the world.\n\nThe general idea is forced into different phases by the varying\nphysical, intellectual, and moral conditions of men. The result is the\ndifferent systems, as shown in the analysis. The general idea is one.\nThe view of the end to be obtained determines in each case the\nactualization of this idea. Hence the different systems of Education are\neach determined by the stand-point from which the general ideal is\nviewed. Proceeding in this manner, it might be possible to construct a\nhistory of Pedagogics, _\u00e0 priori_, without reference to actual history,\nsince all the possible systems might be inferred from the possible\ndefinite number of points of view.\n\nEach lower stand-point will lead to a higher, but it will not be lost in\nit. Thus, where Education, for the sake of the nation,[7] merges into\nthe Education based on Christianity, the form is not thereby destroyed,\nbut, rather, in the transition first attains its full realization. The\nsystems of Education which were based on the idea of the nation had, in\nthe fullness of time, outgrown their own limits, and needed a new form\nin order to contain their own true idea. The idea of the nation, as the\nhighest principle, gives way for that of Christianity. A new life came\nto the old idea in what at first seemed to be its destruction. The idea\nof the nation was born again, and not destroyed, in Christianity.\n\n\u00a7 11. The final system, so far, is that of the present time, which thus\nis itself the fruit of all the past systems, as well as the seed of all\nsystems that are to be. The science of Pedagogics, in the consideration\nof the system of the present, thus again finds embodied the general idea\nof education, and thus returns upon itself to the point from whence it\nset out. In the First and Second Parts there is already given the idea\nwhich dominates the system found thus necessarily existing in the\npresent.\n\n\n     {FIRST PART.    {Its Nature.\n     {In its General {Its Form.\n     {  Idea.        {Its Limits.\n     {\n     {SECOND PART.   {Physical.\n     {In its Special {Intellectual.\n     {  Elements.    {Moral.\n     {\n     {             {          {            {Family     China.\n     {             {          {Passive.    {Caste      India.\n     {             {          {            {Monkish    Thibet.\n     {             {          {\n     {             {          {            {Military   Persia.\n     {             {National. {Active      {Priestly   Egypt.\n     {             {          {            {Industrial Phoenicia.\n     {             {          {\n     {             {          {            {\u00c6sthetic    Greece.\n  E  {             {          {Individual. {Practical   Rome.\n  D  {             {          {            {Abstract   {Northern.\n  U  {             {          {            { Individual{ Barbarians.\n  C  {             {\n  A  {             {Theocratic. . . . . . . . . . . .  Jews.\n  T  {             {\n  I  {             {Monkish.\n  O  {THIRD PART.  {\n  N  {In its       {\n     { Particular  {\n     { Systems.    {\n     {             {Chivalric.\n     {             {\n     {             {Humanitarian. {For Special  {Jesuitic.\n     {             {              { Callings.   {Pietistic.\n     {             {\n     {             {                            {The\n     {             {              {             {Humanistic.\n     {             {For Civil     {To achieve   {\n     {             {  Life.       { an Ideal of {The\n     {             {              { Culture.    {Philanthropic\n     {             {              {             {Movement.\n     {             {              {\n     {             {              {For Free Citizenship.\n\n\n\n\nFIRST PART.\n\nThe General Idea of Education.\n\n\n\u00a7 12. A full treatment of Pedagogics must distinguish--\n\n  (1) The nature of Education;\n\n  (2) The form of Education;\n\n  (3) The limits of Education.\n\n\n_I.--The Nature of Education._\n\n\u00a7 13. The nature of Education is determined by the nature of mind, the\ndistinguishing mark of which is that it can be developed only from\nwithin, and by its own activity. Mind is essentially free--_i.e._, it\nhas the capacity for freedom--but it cannot be said to possess freedom\ntill it has obtained it by its own voluntary effort. Till then it cannot\nbe truly said to be free. Education consists in enabling a human being\nto take possession of, and to develop himself by, his own efforts, and\nthe work of the educator cannot be said to be done in any sense where\nthis is not accomplished. In general, we may say that the work of\neducation consists in leading to a full development of all the inherent\npowers of the mind, and that its work is done when, in this way, the\nmind has attained perfect freedom, or the state in which alone it can be\nsaid to be truly itself.[8]\n\nThe isolated human being can never become truly man. If such human\nbeings (like the wild girl of the forest of Ardennes) have been found,\nthey have only proved to us that reciprocal action with our fellow\nbeings is necessary for the development of our powers. Caspar Hauser, in\nhis subterranean prison, will serve as an example of what man would be\nwithout men. One might say that this fact is typified by the first cry\nof the newly-born child. It is as if the first expression of its\nseemingly independent life were a cry for help from others. On the side\nof nature the human being is at first quite helpless.\n\n\u00a7 14. Man is, therefore, the only proper object of education. It is true\nthat we speak of the education of plants and of animals, but we\ninstinctively apply other terms when we do so, for we say \"raising\"\nplants, and \"training\" animals. When we \"train\" or \"break\" an animal, it\nis true that we do, by pain or pleasure, lead him into an exercise of a\nnew activity. But the difference between this and Education consists in\nthe fact that, though he possessed capacity, yet by no amount of\nassociation with his kind would he ever have acquired this new\ndevelopment. It is as if we impress upon his plastic nature the imprint\nof our loftier nature, which imprint he takes mechanically, and does not\nhimself recognize it as his own internal nature. We train him for our\nrecognition, not for his own. But, on the contrary, when we educate a\nhuman being, we only excite him to create for himself, and out of\nhimself, that for which he would most earnestly strive had he any\nappreciation of it beforehand, and in proportion as he does appreciate\nit he recognizes it joyfully as a part of himself, as his own\ninheritance, which he appropriates with a knowledge that it is his, or,\nrather, is a part of his own nature. He who speaks of \"raising\" human\nbeings uses language which belongs only to the slave-dealer, to whom\nhuman beings are only cattle for labor, and whose property increases in\nvalue with the number.\n\nAre there no school-rooms where Education has ceased to have any\nmeaning, and where physical pain is made to produce its only possible\nresult--a mechanical, external repetition? The school-rooms where the\ncreative word--the only thing which can influence the mind--has ceased\nto be used as the means are only plantations, where human beings are\ndegraded to the position of lower animals.\n\n\u00a7 15. When we speak of the Education of the human race, we mean the\ngradual growth of the nations of the earth, as a whole, towards the\nrealization of self-conscious freedom. Divine Providence is the teacher\nhere. The means by which the development is effected are the various\ncircumstances and actions of the different races of men, and the pupils\nare the nations. The unfolding of this great Education is generally\ntreated of under the head of Philosophy of History.\n\n\u00a7 16. Education, however, in a more restricted sense, has to do with the\nshaping of the individual. Each one of us is to be educated by the laws\nof physical nature--by the relations into which we come with the\nnational life, in its laws, customs, etc., and by the circumstances\nwhich daily surround us. By the force of these we find our arbitrary\nwill hemmed in, modified, and forced to take new channels and forms. We\nare too often unmindful of the power with which these forces are daily\nand hourly educating us--_i.e._, calling out our possibilities into\nreal existence. If we set up our will in opposition to either of these;\nif we act in opposition to the laws of nature; if we seriously offend\nthe laws, or even the customs, of the people among whom we live; or if\nwe despise our individual lot, we do so only to find ourselves crushed\nin the encounter. We only learn the impotence of the individual against\nthese mighty powers; and that discovery is, of itself, a part of our\neducation. It is sometimes only by such severe means that God is\nrevealed to the man who persistently misunderstands and defies His\ncreation. All suffering brought on ourselves by our own violation of\nlaws, whether natural, ethical, or divine, must be, however, thus\nrecognized as the richest blessing. We do not mean to say that it is\nnever allowable for a man, in obedience to the highest laws of his\nspiritual being, to break away from the fetters of nature--to offend the\nethical sense of his own people, or to struggle against the might of\ndestiny. Reformers and martyrs would be examples of such, and our\nremarks above do not apply to them, but to the perverse, the frivolous,\nand the conceited; to those who are seeking in their action, not the\nundoubted will of God, but their own individual will or caprice.\n\n\u00a7 17. But we generally use the word Education in a still narrower\nsense than either of these, for we mean by it the working of one\nindividual mind upon or within another in some definite and premeditated\nway, so as to fit the pupil for life generally, or for some special\npursuit. For this end the educator must be relatively finished in his\nown education, and the pupil must possess confidence in him, or\ndocility. He must be teachable. That the work be successful, demands the\nvery highest degree of talent, knowledge, skill, and prudence; and any\ndevelopment is impossible if a well-founded authority be wanting in the\neducator, or docility on the part of the pupil.\n\nEducation, in this narrowest and technical sense, is an outgrowth of\ncity or urban life. As long as men do not congregate in large cities,\nthe three forces spoken of in \u00a7 16--_i.e._, the forces of nature,\nnational customs, and circumstances--will be left to perform most of the\nwork of Education; but, in modern city life, the great complication of\nevents, the uncertainty in the results--though careful forethought has\nbeen used--the immense development of individuality, and the pressing\nneed of various information, break the power of custom, and render a\ndifferent method necessary. The larger the city is, the more free is the\nindividual in it from the restraints of customs, the less subjected to\ncurious criticism, and the more able is he to give play to his own\nidiosyncrasies. This, however, is a freedom which needs the counterpoise\nof a more exact training in conventionalities, if we would not have it\ndangerous. Hence the rapid multiplication of educational institutions\nand systems in modern times (one chief characteristic of which is the\ndevelopment of urban life). The ideal Telemachus of Fenelon differs very\nmuch from the real Telemachus of history. Fenelon proposed an education\nwhich trained a youth to reflect, and to guide himself by reason. The\nTelemachus of the heroic age followed the customs (\"use and wont\") of\nhis times with _na\u00efve_ obedience. The systems of Education once\nsufficient do not serve the needs of modern life, any more than the\ndefenses once sufficient against hostile armies are sufficient against\nthe new weapons adopted by modern warfare.\n\n\u00a7 18. The problem with which modern Education has to deal may be said,\nin general terms, to be the development in the individual soul of the\nindwelling Reason, both practical (as will) and theoretical (as\nintellect). To make a child good is only a part of Education; we have\nalso to develop his intelligence. The sciences of Ethics and Education\nare not the same. Again, we must not forget that no pupil is simply a\nhuman being, like every other human being; he is also an individual, and\nthus differs from every other one of the race. This is a point which\nmust never be lost sight of by the educator. Human beings may be--nay,\nmust be--educated in company, but they cannot be educated simply in the\nmass.\n\n\u00a7 19. Education is to lead the pupil by a graded series of exercises,\npreviously arranged and prescribed by the educator, to a definite end.\nBut these exercises must take on a peculiar form for each particular\npupil under the special circumstances present. Hasty and inconsiderate\nwork _may_, by chance, accomplish much; but no work which is not\n_systematic_ can advance and fashion him in conformity with his tenure,\nand such alone is to be called Education; for Education implies both a\ncomprehension of the end to be attained and of the means necessary to\ncompass that end.\n\n\u00a7 20. Culture, however, means more and more every year; and, as the\nsum total of knowledge increases for mankind, it becomes necessary, in\norder to be a master in any one line, to devote one's self almost\nexclusively to that. Hence arises, for the teacher, the difficulty of\npreserving the unity and wholeness which are essential to a complete\nman. The principle of division of labor comes in. He who is a teacher by\nprofession becomes one-sided in his views; and, as teaching divides and\nsubdivides into specialities, this abnormal one-sideness tends more and\nmore to appear. Here we find a parallelism in the profession of\nMedicine, with a corresponding danger of narrowness; for that, too, is\nin a process of constant specialization, and the physician who treats\nnervous diseases is likely to be of the opinion that all trouble arises\nfrom that part of the organism, or, at least, that all remedies should\nbe applied there. This tendency to one-sideness is inseparable from the\nprogress of civilization and that of science and arts. It contains,\nnevertheless, a danger of which no teacher should be unwarned. An\nillustration is furnished by the microscope or telescope; a higher power\nof the instrument implies a narrower field of view. To concentrate our\nobservation upon one point implies the shutting out of others. This\ndifficulty with the teacher creates one for the pupil.\n\nIn this view one might be inclined to judge that the life of the savage\nas compared with that of civilized man, or that of a member of a rural\ncommunity as compared with that of an inhabitant of a city, were the\nmore to be desired. The savage has his hut, his family, his cocoa-palm,\nhis weapons, his passions; he fishes, hunts, amuses himself, adorns\nhimself, and enjoys the consciousness that he is the center of a little\nworld; while the denizen of a city must often acknowledge that he is, so\nto speak, only one wheel of a gigantic machine. Is the life of the\nsavage, therefore, more favorable to human development? The\ncharacteristic idea of modern civilization is: The development of the\nindividual as the end for which the State exists. The great empires of\nPersia, Egypt, and India, wherein the individual was of value only as he\nministered to the strength of the State, have given way to the modern\nnations, where individual freedom is pushed so far that the State seems\nonly an instrument for the good of the individual. From being the\nsupreme end of the individual, the State has become the means for his\nadvancement into freedom; and with this very exaltation of the value of\nthe mere individual over the State, as such, there is inseparably\nconnected the seeming destruction of the wholeness of the individual\nman. But the union of State and individual, which was in ancient times\nmerely mechanical, has now become a living process, in which constant\ninteraction gives rise to all the intellectual life of modern\ncivilization.\n\n\u00a7 21. The work of Education being thus necessarily split up, we have\nthe distinction between general and special schools. The work of the\nformer is to give general development--what is considered essential for\nall men; that of the latter, to prepare for special callings. The former\nshould furnish a basis for the latter--_i.e._, the College should\nprecede the Medical School, etc., and the High School the Normal. In the\nUnited States, owing to many causes, this is unfortunately not the case.\n\nThe difference between city and country life is important here. The\nteacher in a country school, and, still more, the private tutor or\ngoverness, must be able to teach many more things than the teacher in a\ngraded school in the city, or the professor in a college or university.\nThe danger on the one side is of superficiality, on the other of\nnarrowness.\n\n\u00a7 22. The Education of any individual can be only relatively finished.\nHis possibilities are infinite. His actual realization of those\npossibilities must always remain far behind. The latter can only\napproximate to the former. It can never reach them. The term \"finishing\nan education\" needs, therefore, some definition; for, as a technical\nterm, it has undoubtedly a meaning. An immortal soul can never complete\nits development; for, in so doing, it would give the lie to its own\nnature. We cannot speak properly, however, of educating an idiot. Such\nan unfortunate has no power of generalization, and no conscious\npersonality. We can train him mechanically, but we cannot educate him.\nThis will help to illustrate the difference, spoken of in \u00a7 14, between\nEducation and Mechanical training.\n\nWe obtain astonishing results, it is true, in our schools for idiots,\nand yet we cannot fail to perceive that, after all, we have only an\nexternal result. We produce a mechanical performance of duties, and yet\nthere seems to be no actual mental growth. It is an exogenous, and not\nan endogenous, growth, to use the language of Botany.[9] Continual\nrepetition, under the most gentle patience, renders the movements easy,\nbut, after all, they are only automatic, or what the physicians call\nreflex.\n\nWe have the same result produced in a less degree when we attempt to\nteach an intelligent child something which is beyond his active\ncomprehension. A child may be taught to do or say almost anything by\npatient training, but, if what he is to say is beyond the power of his\nmental comprehension, and hence of his active assimilation, we are only\ntraining him as we train an animal (\u00a7 14), and not educating him. We\ncall such recitations parrot recitations, and, by our use of the word,\nexpress exactly in what position the pupils are placed. An idiot is only\na case of permanently arrested development. What in the intelligent\nchild is a passing phase is for the idiot a fixed state. We have idiots\nof all grades, as we have children of all ages.\n\nThe above observations must not be taken to mean that children should\nnever be taught to perform operations in arithmetic which they do not,\nin cant phrase, \"perfectly understand,\" or to learn poetry whose whole\nmeaning they cannot fathom. Into this error many teachers have fallen.\n\nThere can be no more profitable study for a teacher than to visit one of\nthese numerous idiot schools. He finds the alphabet of his professional\nwork there. As the philologist learns of the formation and growth of\nlanguage by examining, not the perfectly formed languages, but the\ndialects of savage tribes, so with the teacher. In like manner more\ninsight into the philosophy of teaching and of the nature of the mind\ncan be acquired by teaching a class of children to read than in any\nother grade of work.\n\n\n_II.--The Form of Education._\n\n\u00a7 23. The general form of Education follows from the nature of mind.\nMind is nothing but what it itself creates out of its own activity. It\nis, at first, mind as undeveloped or unconscious (in the main); but,\nsecondly, it acquires the power of examining its own action, of\nconsidering itself as an object of attention, as if it were a quite\nforeign thing--_i.e._, it reflects (in this stage it is really ignorant\nthat it is studying its own nature); and, finally, it becomes conscious\nthat this, which it had been examining, and of whose existence it is\nconscious, is its own self: It attains self-consciousness. It is through\nthis estrangement from itself, given back to itself again and restored\nto unity, but it is no longer a simple, unconscious unity. In this third\nstate only can it be said to be free--_i.e._, to possess itself.\nEducation cannot create; it can only help to develop into reality the\npreviously-existent possibility; it can only help to bring forth to\nlight the hidden life.\n\n\u00a7 24. All culture, in whatever line, must pass through these two\nstages of estrangement and of reunion; the reunion being not of two\ndifferent things, but the recognition of itself by thought, and its\nacceptance of itself as itself. And the more complete is the\nestrangement--_i.e._, the more perfectly can the thought be made to\nview itself as a somewhat entirely foreign to itself, to look upon it as\na different and independent somewhat--the more complete and perfect will\nbe its union with and acceptance of its object as one with itself when\nthe recognition does finally take place. Through culture we are led to\nthis conscious possession of our own thought. Plato gives to the\nfeeling, with which knowledge must necessarily begin, the name of\nwonder. But wonder is not knowledge; it is only the first step towards\nit. It is the half-terrified attention which the mind fixes on an\nobject, and the half-terror would be impossible did it not dimly\nforebode that it was something of its own nature at which it was\nlooking. The child delights in stories of the far-off, the strange, and\nthe wonderful. It is as if they hoped to find in these some solution to\nthemselves--a solution which they have, as it were, asked in vain of\nfamiliar scenes and objects. Their craving for such is the proof of how\nfar their nature transcends all its known conditions. They are like\nadventurous explorers who push out to unknown regions in hopes of\nfinding the freedom and wealth which lies only within themselves. They\nwant to be told about things which they never saw, such as terrible\nconflagrations, banditti life, wild animals, gray old ruins, Robinson\nCrusoes on far-off, happy islands. They are irresistibly attracted by\nwhatever is highly colored and dazzlingly lighted. The child prefers the\nstory of Sinbad the Sailor to any tales of his own home and nation,\nbecause mind has this necessity of getting, as it were, outside of\nitself so as to obtain a view of itself. As the child grows to youth he\nis, from the same reasons, desirous of traveling.\n\n\u00a7 25. Work may be defined as the activity of the mind in a conscious\nconcentration on, and absorption in, some object, with the purpose of\nacquiring or producing it. Play is the activity of the mind which gives\nitself up to surrounding objects according to its own caprice, without\nany thought as to results. The Educator gives out work to the pupil, but\nhe leaves him to himself in his play.\n\n\u00a7 26. It is necessary to draw a sharp line between work and play. If the\nEducator has not respect for work as an activity of great weight and\nimportance, he not only spoils the relish of the pupil for play, which\nloses all its charm of freedom when not set off by its antithesis of\nearnest labor, but he undermines in the pupil's mind all respect for any\nreal existence. On the other hand, he who does not give to the child\nspace, time, and opportunity for play prevents the originality of his\npupil from free development through the exercise of his creative\ningenuity. Play sends the child back to his work refreshed, because in\nit he loses himself without constraint and according to his own fancy,\nwhile in work he is required to yield himself up in a manner prescribed\nfor him by another.\n\nLet the teacher watch his pupils while at play if he would discover\ntheir individual peculiarities, for it is then that they unconsciously\nbetray their real propensities. This antithesis of work and play runs\nthrough the entire life, the form only of play varying with years and\noccupations. To do what we please, as we please, and when we please, not\nfor any reason, but just because we please, remains play always.\nChildren in their sports like nothing better than to counterfeit what is\nto be the earnest work of their after-lives. The little girl plays with\nher dolls, and the boy plays he is a soldier and goes to mimic wars.\n\nIt is, of course, an error to suppose that the play of a child is\nsimply muscular. The lamb and the colt find their full enjoyment in\ncapering aimlessly about the field. But to the child play would be\nincomplete which did not bring the mind into action. Children derive\nlittle enjoyment from purely muscular exercise. They must at the same\ntime have an object requiring mental action to attain it. A number of\nchildren set simply to run up and down a field would tire of the\nexercise in five minutes; but put a ball amongst them and set them to a\ngame and they will be amused by it for hours.\n\nExceptional mental development is always preceded, and is, indeed,\nproduced by, an exceptional amount of exercise in the form of play on\nthe part of the special faculties concerned. The peculiar tendencies\nexhibited in play are due to the large development of particular\nfaculties, and the ultimate giant strength of a faculty is brought about\nby play. The genius is no doubt born, not made; but, although born, it\nwould dwindle away in infancy were it not for the constant exercise\ntaken in play, which is as necessary for development as food for the\nmaintenance of life.\n\n\u00a7 27. Work should never be treated as if it were play, nor play as if it\nwere work. Those whose work is creative activity of the mind may find\nrecreation in the details of science; and those, again, whose vocation\nis scientific research can find recreation in the practice of art in its\ndifferent departments. What is work to one may thus be play to another.\nThis does not, however, contradict the first statement.\n\n\u00a7 28. It is the province of education so to accustom us to different\nconditions or ways of thinking and acting that they shall no longer seem\nstrange or foreign to us. When these have become, as we say, \"natural\"\nto us--when we find the acquired mode of thinking or acting just what\nour inclination leads us to adopt unconsciously, a _Habit_ has been\nformed. A habit is, then, the identity of natural inclination with the\nspecial demands of any particular doing or suffering, and it is thus the\nexternal condition of all progress. As long as we require the conscious\nact of our will to the performance of a deed, that deed is a somewhat\nforeign to ourselves, and not yet a part of ourselves. The practical\nwork of the educator may thus be said to consist in leading the mind of\nthe pupil over certain lines of thought till it becomes \"natural\" or\nspontaneous for him to go by that road. Much time is wasted in schools\nwhere the pupil's mind is not led aright at first, for then he has to\nunlearn habits of thought which are already formed. The work of the\nteacher is to impress good methods of studying and thinking upon the\nminds of his pupils, rather than to communicate knowledge.\n\n\u00a7 29. It is, at first sight, entirely indifferent what a Habit shall\nrelate to--_i.e._, the point is to get the pupil into the way of\nforming habits, and it is not at first of so much moment what habit is\nformed as that a habit is formed. But we cannot consider that there is\nanything morally neutral in the abstract, but only in the concrete, or\nin particular examples. An action may be of no moral significance to one\nman, and under certain circumstances, while to another man, or to the\nsame man under different circumstances, it may have quite a different\nsignificance, or may possess an entirely opposite character. Appeal must\nbe made, then, to the individual conscience of each one to decide what\nis and what is not permissible to that individual under the given\ncircumstances. Education must make it its first aim to awaken in the\npupil a sensitiveness to spiritual and ethical distinctions which knows\nthat nothing is in its own nature morally insignificant or indifferent,\nbut shall recognize, even in things seemingly small, a universal human\nsignificance. But, yet, in relation to the highest interests of morality\nor the well-being of society, the pupil must be taught to subordinate\nwithout hesitation all that relates exclusively to his own personal\ncomfort or welfare for the well-being of his fellow-men, or for moral\nrectitude.\n\nWhen we reflect upon habit, it at once assumes for us the character of\nuseful or injurious. The consequences of a habit are not indifferent.\n\nWhatever action tends as a harmonious means to the realization of our\npurpose is desirable or advantageous, and whatever either partially\ncontradicts or wholly destroys it is disadvantageous. Advantage and\ndisadvantage being, then, only relative terms, dependent upon the aim or\npurpose which we happen to have in view, a habit which may be\nadvantageous to one man under certain circumstances may be\ndisadvantageous to another man, or even to the same man, under other\ncircumstances. Education must, then, accustom the youth to consider for\nhimself the expediency or inexpediency of any action in relation to his\nown vocation in life. He must not form habits which will be inexpedient\nwith regard to that.\n\n\u00a7 31. There is, however, an _absolute_ distinction of habits as morally\ngood and bad. From this absolute stand-point we must, after all, decide\nwhat is for us allowable or forbidden, what is expedient and what\ninexpedient.\n\n\u00a7 32. As to its form, habit may be either passive or active. By passive\nhabit is meant a habit of composure which surveys undisturbed whatever\nvicissitudes, either external or internal, may fall to our lot, and\nmaintains itself superior to them all, never allowing its power of\nacting to be paralyzed by them. It is not, however, merely a stoical\nindifference, nor is it the composure which comes from inability to\nreceive impressions--a sort of impassivity. It is that composure which\nis the highest result of power. Nor is it a selfish love of ease which\nintentionally withdraws itself from annoyances in order to remain\nundisturbed. It is not manifested because of a desire to be out of these\nvicissitudes. It is, while in them, to be not of them. It is the\ncomposure which does not fret itself over what it cannot change. The\nsoul that has built for itself this stronghold of freedom within itself\nmay vividly experience joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, and yet\nserenely know that it is intrenched in walls which are inaccessible to\ntheir attacks, because it knows that it is infinitely superior to all\nthat may chance or change. What is meant by active habit in distinction\nfrom passive habit is found in our external activity, as skill,\nfacility, readiness of information, etc. It might be considered as the\nequipping of our inner selves for active contest with the external\nworld; while passive habit is the fortifying of our inner selves against\nthe attack of the external world. The man who possesses habit in both\nthese forms impresses himself in many different ways on the outer world,\nwhile at the same time, and all the time, he preserves intact his\npersonality from the constant assaults of the outer world. He handles\nboth spear and shield.\n\n\u00a7 33. All education, in whatever line, must work by forming habits\nphysical, mental, or moral. It might be said to consist in a conversion\nof actions which are at first voluntary, by means of repetition, into\ninstructive actions which are performed, as we say, naturally--_i.e._,\nwithout any conscious volition. We teach a child to walk, or he teaches\nhimself to walk by a constant repetition of the action of the will upon\nthe necessary muscles; and, when the thinking brain hands over the\nmechanism to the trained spinal cord, the anxious, watchful look\ndisappears from the face, and the child talks or laughs as he runs: then\nthat part of his education is completed. Henceforth the attention that\nhad been necessary to manage the body in walking is freed for other\nwork. This is only an illustration, easily understood, of what takes\nplace in all education. Mental and moral acts, thoughts, and feelings in\nthe same way are, by repetition, converted into habits and become our\nnature; and character, good or bad, is only the aggregate of our habits.\nWhen we say a person has no character, we mean exactly this: that he has\nno fixed habits. But, as the great end of human life is freedom, he must\nbe above even habit. He must not be wholly a machine of habits, and\neducation must enable him to attain the power of breaking as well as of\nforming habits, so that he may, when desirable, substitute one habit for\nanother. For habits may be (\u00a7 29), according to their nature, proper or\nimproper, advantageous or disadvantageous, good or bad; and, according\nto their form, may be (\u00a7 32) either the acceptance of the external by\nthe internal or the reaction of the internal upon the external. Through\nour freedom we must be able, not only to renounce any habit formed, but\nto form a new and better one. Man should be supreme above all habits,\nwearing them as garments which the soul puts on and off at will. It must\nso order them all as to secure for itself a constant progress of\ndevelopment into still greater freedom. In this higher view habits\nbecome thus to our sight only necessary accompaniments of imperfect\nfreedom. Can we conceive of God, who is perfect Freedom, as having any\nhabits? We might say that, as a means toward the ever-more decided\nrealization of the Good, we must form a habit of voluntarily making and\nbreaking off habits. We must characterize as bad those habits which\nrelate only to our personal convenience or enjoyment. They are often not\nessentially blameworthy, but there lies in them a hidden danger that\nthey may allure us into luxury or effeminacy. It is a false and\nmechanical way of looking at the affair to suppose that a habit which\nhad been formed by a certain number of repetitions can be broken off by\nan equal number of refusals. We can never utterly renounce a habit which\nwe decide to be undesirable for us except through decision and firmness.\n\n\u00a7 34. Education, then, must consider the preparation for authority and\nobedience (\u00a7 17); for a rational ordering of one's actions according to\nuniversal principles, and, at the same time, a preservation of\nindividuality (\u00a7 18); for work and play (\u00a7 25); for habits of\nspontaneity or originality (\u00a7 28). To endeavor by any set rules to\nharmonize in the pupil these opposites will be a vain endeavor, and\nfailure in the solution of the problem is quite possible by reason of\nthe freedom of the pupil, of surrounding circumstances, or of mistakes\non the part of the teacher, and the possibility of this negative result\nmust, therefore, enter as an element of calculation into the work\nitself. All the dangers which may in any way threaten the youth must be\nconsidered in advance, and he must be fortified against them. While we\nshould not intentionally expose the youth to temptation in order to\nprove his strength of resistance, neither should we, on the other hand,\nendeavor to seclude him from all chance of dangerous temptation. To do\nthe former would be satanic; while to do the latter would be ridiculous,\nuseless, and in fact dangerous in the highest degree, for temptation\ncomes more from within than from without, and any secret inclination\nwill in some way seek, or even create, its own opportunity for\ngratification. The real safety from sin lies, not in seclusion of one's\nself from the world[10]--for all the elements of worldliness are innate\nin each individual--but in an occupying of the restless activity in\nother ways, in learning and discipline; these being varied as time goes\non, according to the age and degree of proficiency. Not to crush out,\nbut to direct, the child's activity, whether physical or mental, is the\nkey to all real success in education. The sentimentalism which has,\nduring the last few years, in this country (the United States), tended\nto diminish to so great an extent the actual work to be performed by our\nboys and girls, has set free a dangerous amount of energy whose new\ndirection gives cause for grave alarm. To endeavor to prevent the youth\nfrom all free and individual relations with the real world, implies a\nnever-ending watch kept over him. The consciousness of being thus\n\"shadowed\" destroys in the youth all elasticity of spirit, all\nconfidence, and all originality. A constant feeling of, as it were, a\ndetective police at his side obscures all sense of independent action,\nsystematically accustoming him to dependence. Though, as the\ntragic-comic story of Peter Schlemihl shows, the loss of a man's own\nshadow may involve him in a series of fatalities,[11] yet to be\n\"shadowed\" constantly by a companion, us in the pedagogical system of\nthe Jesuits, undermines all naturalness. And, if we endeavor to guard\ntoo strictly against what is evil and wrong, the pupil reacts, bringing\nall his intelligence into the service of his craft and cunning, till the\nwould-be educator stands aghast at the discovery of such evil-doing as\nhe had supposed impossible under his strict supervision. Within the\ncircle of whatever rules it may be found necessary to draw around the\nyoung there must always be left space for freedom. Pupils should always\nbe led to see that all rules against which they fret are only of their\nown creation; and that as grave-stones mark the place where some one has\nfallen, so every law is only a record of some previous wrong-doing. The\nlaw \"Thou shalt not kill\" was not given till murder had been committed.\nIn other words, the wrong deed preceded the law against it, and perfect\nobedience is the same as perfect freedom. No obedience except that which\nwe gain from the pupil's own convictions has real educational\nsignificance.\n\n\u00a7 35. If there appears in the youth any decided deformity opposed to\nthe ideal which we would create in him, we should at once inquire into\nits history and origin. The negative and positive are so closely\nrelated, and depend so intimately on each other, in our being that what\nappears to us to be negligence, rudeness, immorality, foolishness, or\noddity may arise from some real necessity of the pupil which in its\nprocess of development has only taken a wrong direction.\n\n\u00a7 36. If it should appear, on such examination, that the wrong action\nwas the result of avoidable ignorance, of caprice, or willfulness on the\npart of the pupil, this calls for a simple prohibition on the part of\nthe teacher, no reason being assigned. His authority must be sufficient\nfor the pupil without any reason. When the fault is repeated, and the\npupil is old enough to understand, then only should the grounds of the\nprohibition be stated with it. This should, however, be done in few\nwords, and the educator must never allow himself to lose, in a doctrinal\nlecture, the idea of discipline. If he do, the pupil will soon forget\nthat it was his own misbehavior which was the cause of all the remarks.\nThe statement of the reason must be honest, and must be presented to the\nyouth on the side most easy for him to appreciate. False reasons are not\nonly morally wrong, but they lead the mind astray. We also commit a\ngrave error when we try to unfold to the youth all the possible\nconsequences of his wrong act, for those possible consequences are too\nfar off to affect his mind. The long lecture wearies him, especially if\nit be in a stereotyped form; and with teachers who are fault-finding,\nand who like to hear themselves talk, this is apt to be the case. Still\nmore unfortunate would it be if we really should affect the lively\nimagination of a sensitive youth by our description of the wretchedness\nto which his wrong-doing, if persisted in, might lead him, for then the\nconviction that he has already taken one step in that direction may\nproduce in him a fear which in the future man may become terrible\ndepression and lead to degradation.\n\n\u00a7 37. If to censure we add the threat of punishment, we have then what\nin common language is called scolding.\n\nIf threats are made, the pupil must be made to feel that they will be\nfaithfully executed according to the word.\n\nThe threat of punishment is, however, to be avoided; for circumstances\nmay arise which will render its fulfillment not only objectionable, but\nwrong, and the teacher will then find himself in the position of Herod\nand bound \"for his oath's sake\" to a course of action which no longer\nseems the best. Even the law in affixing a penalty to definite crimes\nallows a certain latitude in a maximum and minimum of awarded\npunishment.\n\n\u00a7 38. It is only after other means of reformation have been tried, and\nhave failed, that punishment is justifiable for error, transgression, or\nvice. When our simple prohibition (\u00a7 36), the statement of our reason\nfor the prohibiting (\u00a7 36), and threat of punishment (\u00a7 37) have all\nfailed, then punishment comes and intentionally inflicts pain on the\nyouth in order to force him by this last means to a realization of his\nwrong-doing. And here the punishment must not be given for general bad\nconduct or for a perverse disposition--those being vague\ngeneralities--but for a special act of wrong-doing at that time. He\nshould not be punished because he is naturally bad or because he is\ngenerally naughty, but for this one special and particular act which he\nhas committed. Thus the punishment will act on the general disposition,\nnot directly, but through this particular act, as a manifestation of the\ndisposition. Then it will not accuse the innermost nature of the\nculprit. This way of punishment is not only demanded by justice, but it\nis absolutely necessary in view of the fact of the sophistry inherent in\nhuman nature which is always busy in assigning various motives for its\nactions. If the child understands, then, that he is punished for that\nparticular act which he knows himself to have committed, he cannot feel\nthe bitter sense of injustice and misunderstanding which a punishment\ninflicted for general reasons, and which attributes to him a depravity\nof motives and intentions, so often engenders.\n\n\u00a7 39. Punishment as an educational means must, nevertheless, be always\nessentially corrective, since it seeks always to bring the youth to a\ncomprehension of his wrong-doing and to a positive alteration in his\nbehavior, and, hence, has for its aim to improve him. At the same time\nit is a sad testimony of the insufficiency of the means which have\nbeen previously tried. We should on no account aim to terrify the\nyouth by physical force, so that to avoid that he will refrain from\ndoing the wrong or from repeating a wrong act already done. This would\nlead only to terrorism, and his growing strength would soon put him\nbeyond its power and leave him without motive for refraining from\nevil. Punishment may have this effect in some degree, but it should,\nabove all, be made to impress deeply upon his mind the eternal truth\nthat the evil deed is never allowed in God's universe to act\nunrestrained and according to its own will, but that the good and true\nis the only absolute power in the world, and that it is never at a\nloss to avenge any contradiction of its will and design.\n\nIt may be questioned whether the moral teaching in our schools be not\ntoo negative in its measures; whether it do not confine itself too much\nto forbidding the commission of the wrong deed, and spend too little\nforce in securing the performance of the right deed. Not a simple\nrefraining from the wrong, but an active doing of the right would be the\nbetter lesson to inculcate.\n\nIn the laws of the state the office of punishment is first to satisfy\njustice,[12] and only after this is done can the improvement of the\ncriminal be considered. If government should proceed on the same basis\nas the educator, it would make a grave mistake, for it has to deal, not\nwith children, but with adults, to whom it concedes the dignity of full\nresponsibility for all their acts. It has not to consider the reasons,\neither psychological or ethical, which prompted the deed. The actual\ndeed is what it has first of all to deal with, and only after that is\nconsidered and settled can it take into view any mitigating\ncircumstances connected therewith, or any peculiarity of the individual.\nThe educator, on the other hand, has to deal with those who are immature\nand only growing toward responsibility. As long as they are under the\ncare of a teacher, he is at any rate partially accountable for what they\ndo. We must never confound the nature of punishment in the State with\nthat of punishment as an educational means.\n\n\u00a7 40. As to punishment, as with all other work in education, it can\nnever be abstractly determined beforehand, but it must be regulated with\na view to the individual pupil and his peculiar circumstances. What it\nshall be, and how and when administered, are problems which call for\ngreat ingenuity and tact on the part of the educator. It must never be\nforgotten that punishments vary in intensity at the will of the\neducator. He fixes the standard by which they are measured in the\nchild's mind. Whipping is actual physical pain, and an evil in itself to\nthe child. But there are many other punishments which involve no\nphysical pain, and the intensity of which, as felt by the child, varies\naccording to an artificial standard in different schools. \"To sit under\nthe clock\" was a great punishment in one of our public schools--not that\nthe seat was not perfectly comfortable, but that one was never sent\nthere to sit unless for some grave misdemeanor. The teacher has the\nmatter in his own hands, and it is well to remember this and to grade\nhis punishments with much caution, so as to make all pass for their full\nvalue. In some schools even suspension is so common that it does not\nseem to the pupil a very terrible thing. \"Familiarity breeds contempt,\"\nand frequency implies familiarity. A punishment seldom resorted to will\nalways seem to the pupil to be severe. As we weaken, and in fact\nbankrupt, language by an inordinate use of superlatives, so, also, do we\nweaken any punishment by its frequent repetition. Economy of resources\nshould be always practiced.\n\n\u00a7 41. In general, we might say that, for very young children, corporal\npunishment is most appropriate; for boys and girls, isolation; and for\nolder youth, something which appeals to the sense of honor.\n\n\u00a7 42. (1) Corporal punishment implies physical pain. Generally it\nconsists of a whipping, and this is perfectly justifiable in case of\npersistent defiance of authority, of obstinate carelessness, or of\nmalicious evil-doing, so long or so often as the higher perceptions of\nthe offender are closed against appeal. But it must not be administered\ntoo often, or with undue severity. To resort to deprivation of food is\ncruel. But, while we condemn the false view of seeing in the rod the\nonly panacea for all embarrassing questions of discipline on the\nteacher's part, we can have no sympathy for the sentimentality which\nassumes that the dignity of humanity is affected by a blow given to a\nchild. It is wrong thus to confound self-conscious humanity with\nchild-humanity, for to the average child himself a blow is the most\nnatural form of retribution, and that in which all other efforts at\ninfluence at last end. The fully grown man ought, certainly, not to be\nflogged, for this kind of punishment places him on a level with the\nchild; or, where it is barbarously inflicted, reduces him to the level\nof the brute, and thus absolutely does degrade him. In English schools\nthe rod is said to be often used; if a pupil of the first class, who is\nnever flogged, is put back into the second, he becomes again subject to\nflogging. But, even if this be necessary in the schools, it certainly\nhas no proper place in the army and navy.\n\n\u00a7 43. (2) To punish a pupil by isolation is to remove him temporarily\nfrom the society of his fellows. The boy or girl thus cut off from\ncompanionship, and forced to think only of himself, begins to understand\nhow helpless he is in such a position. Time passes wearily, and he is\nsoon eager to return to the companionship of parents, brothers and\nsisters, teachers and fellow-students.\n\nBut to leave a child entirely by himself without any supervision, and\nperhaps in a dark room, is as wrong as to leave two or three together\nwithout supervision. It often happens when they are kept after school by\nthemselves that they give the freest rein to their childish wantonness,\nand commit the wildest pranks.\n\n\u00a7 44. (3) Shutting children up in this way does not touch their sense\nof honor, and the punishment is soon forgotten, because it relates only\nto certain particular phases of their behavior. But it is quite\ndifferent when the pupil is isolated from his fellows on the ground that\nby his conduct he has violated the very principles which make civilized\nsociety possible, and is, therefore, no longer a proper member of it.\nThis is a punishment which touches his sense of honor, for honor is the\nrecognition of the individual by others as their equal, and by his\nerror, or by his crime, he had forfeited his right to be their equal,\ntheir peer, and has thus severed himself from them.\n\nThe separation from them is thus only the external form of the real\nseparation which he himself has brought to pass within his soul, and\nwhich his wrong-doing has only made clearly visible. This kind of\npunishment, thus touching the whole character of the youth and not\neasily forgotten, should be administered with the greatest caution lest\na permanent loss of self-respect follow. When we think our wrong-doing\nto be eternal in its effects, we lose all power of effort for our own\nimprovement.\n\nThis sense of honor cannot be developed so well in family life, because\nin the family the ties of blood make all in a certain sense equal, no\nmatter what may be their conduct. He who has by wrong-doing severed\nhimself from society is still a member of the family, and within its\nsacred circle is still beloved, though it may be with bitter tears. No\nmatter how wrong he may have been, he still can find there the deepest\nsympathy, for he is still father, brother, etc. It is in the contact of\none family with another that the feeling of honor is first developed,\nand still more in the contact of the individual with an institution\nwhich is not bound to him by any natural ties, but is an organism\nentirely external to him. Thus, to the child, the school and the\nschool-classes offer a means of development which can never be found in\nthe family.\n\nThis fact is often overlooked by those who have the charge of the\neducation of children. No home education, no private tutorship, can take\nthe place of the school as an educational influence. For the first time\nin his life the child, on being sent to school, finds himself in a\ncommunity where he is responsible for his own deeds, and where he has no\none to shield him. The rights of others for whom he has no special\naffection are to be respected by him, and his own are to be defended.\nThe knowledge gained at the school is by no means the most valuable\nacquisition there obtained. It must never be forgotten by the teacher\nthat the school is an institution on an entirely different basis from\nthe family, and that personal attachment is not the principle on which\nits rule can be rightly based.\n\n\u00a7 45. This gradation of punishment from physical pain, up through\noccasional isolation, to the touching of the innermost sense of honor is\nvery carefully to be considered, both with regard to the different ages\nat which they are severally appropriate and to the different discipline\nwhich they necessarily produce. Every punishment must, however, be\nalways looked at as a means to some end, and is thus transitory in its\nnature. The pupil should always be conscious that it is painful to the\nteacher to punish him. Nothing can be more effectual as a means of cure\nfor the wrong-doer than to perceive in the manner and tone of the voice,\nin the very delay with which the necessary punishment is administered,\nthat he who punishes also suffers in order that the wrong-doer may be\ncured of his fault. The principle of vicarious suffering lies at the\nroot of all spiritual healing.\n\n\n_III.--The Limits of Education._\n\n\u00a7 46. As far as the external form of education is concerned, its limit\nis reached in the instrumentality of punishment in which we seek to turn\nthe activity which has been employed in a wrong direction into its\nproper channel, to make the deed positive instead of negative, to\nsubstitute for the destructive deed one which shall be in harmony with\nthe constructive forces of society. But education implies its real\nlimits in its definition, which is to build up the individual into\ntheoretical and practical Reason. When this work goes properly on, the\nauthority of the educator, as authority, necessarily loses, every day,\nsome of its force, as the guiding principles come to form a part of the\npupil's own character, instead of being super-imposed on him from\nwithout through the mediation of the educator. What was authority\nbecomes now advice and example; unreasoning and implicit obedience\npasses into gratitude and affection. The pupil wears off the rough edges\nof his crude individuality, which is transfigured, so to speak, into the\nuniversality and necessity of Reason, but without losing his identity in\nthe process. Work becomes enjoyment, and Play is found only in a change\nof activity. The youth takes possession of himself, and may now be left\nto himself. There are two widely differing views with regard to the\nlimits of education; one lays great stress on the powerlessness of the\npupil and the great power of the teacher, and asserts that the teacher\nmust create something out of the pupil.\n\nThis view is often seen to have undesirable results, where large\nnumbers are to be educated together. It assumes that each pupil is only\n\"a sample of the lot\" on whom the teacher is to affix his stamp, as if\nthey were different pieces of goods from some factory. Thus\nindividuality is destroyed, and all reduced to one level, as in\ncloisters, barracks, and orphan asylums, where only one individual seems\nto exist. Sometimes it takes the form of a theory which holds that one\ncan at will flog anything into or out of a pupil. This may be called a\nsuperstitious belief in the power of education. The opposite extreme may\nbe found in that system which advocates a \"severe letting alone,\"\nasserting that individuality is unconquerable, and that often the most\ncareful and circumspect education fails of reaching its aim because the\ninherent nature of the youth has fought against it with such force as to\nrender abortive all opposing efforts. This idea of Pedagogy produces a\nsort of indifference about means and ends which would leave each\nindividuality to grow as its own instinct and the chance influences of\nthe world might direct. The latter view would, of course, preclude the\npossibility of any science of education, and make the youth only the\nsport of blind fate. The comparative power of inherited tendencies and\nof educational appliances is, however, one which every educator should\ncarefully study. Much careless generalization has been made on this\ntopic, and opinion is too often based upon some one instance where\naccurate observation of methods and influences have been wanting.\n\n\u00a7 47. Education has necessarily a definite _subjective limit_ in the\nindividuality of the youth, for it can develop in him only that which\nexists in him as a possibility. It can lead and assist, but it has no\npower to create. What nature has denied to a man education cannot give\nhim, any more than it can on the other hand annihilate his original\ngifts, though it may suppress, distort, and measurably destroy them. And\nyet it is impossible to decide what is the real essence of a man's\nindividuality until he has left behind him the years of growth, because\nit is not till then that he fully attains conscious possession of\nhimself. Moreover, at this critical time many traits which were supposed\nto be characteristic may prove themselves not to be so by disappearing,\nwhile long-slumbering and unsuspected talents may crop out. Whatever has\nbeen forced upon a child, though not in harmony with his individuality,\nwhatever has been driven into him without having been actively accepted\nby him, or having had a definite relation to his culture--will remain\nperhaps, but only as an external foreign ornament, only as a parasitic\ngrowth which weakens the force of his real nature. But we must\ndistinguish from these little affectations which arise from a\nmisconception of the limits of individuality that effort of imitation\nwhich children and young people often exhibit in trying to copy in their\nown actions those peculiarities which they observe and admire in\nperfectly-developed persons with whom they may come in contact. They see\na reality which corresponds to their own possibility, and the\npresentiment of a like or a similar attainment stirs them to imitation,\nalthough this external imitation may be sometimes disagreeable or\nridiculous to the lookers-on. We ought not to censure it too severely,\nremembering that it springs from a positive striving towards true\nculture, and needs only to be properly directed, and never to be roughly\nput down.\n\n\u00a7 48. _The objective limit_ of education consists in the means\nwhich can be applied for it. That the capacity for culture should exist\nis the first condition of success, but it is none the less necessary\nthat it be cultivated. But how much cultivation shall be given to it\nmust depend in very great degree on the means which are practicable, and\nthis will undoubtedly again depend on the worldly possessions and\ncharacter of the family to which the pupil belongs. If he comes of a\ncultivated and refined family, he will have a great advantage at the\nstart over his less favored comrades; and, with regard to many of the\narts and sciences, this limitation of education is of great\nsignificance. But the means alone will not answer. Without natural\ncapacity, all the educational apparatus possible is of no avail. On the\nother hand, real talent often accomplishes incredible feats with very\nlimited means; and, if the way is only once open, makes of itself a\ncenter of attraction which draws to itself as with magnetic power the\nnecessary means. Moral culture is, however, from its very nature, raised\nabove such dependence.\n\nIf we fix our thought on the subjective limit--that of individuality (\u00a7\n47)--we detect the ground for that indifference which lays little stress\non education (\u00a7 46, end). If, on the other hand, we concentrate our\nattention on the means of culture, we shall perceive the reason of the\nother extreme spoken of--of that pedagogical despotism (\u00a7 46) which\nfancies that it is able to prescribe and enforce at will upon the pupil\nany culture whatever, without regard to his special characteristics.\n\n\u00a7 49. Education comes to its _absolute limit_ when the pupil has\napprehended the problem which he is to solve, has comprehended the means\nwhich are at his disposal, and has acquired the necessary skill in using\nthem. The true educator seeks to render himself unnecessary by the\ncomplete emancipation of the youth. He works always towards the\nindependence of the pupil, and always with the design of withdrawing so\nsoon as he shall have reached this stand-point, and of leaving him to\nthe full responsibility for his own deeds. To endeavor to hold him in\nthe position of a pupil after this time has been reached would be to\ncontradict the very essence of education, which must find its result in\nthe independent maturity of the youth. The inequality which formerly\nexisted between pupil and teacher is now removed, and nothing becomes\nmore oppressive to the former than any endeavor to force upon him the\nauthority from which, in reality, his own efforts have freed him. But\nthe undue hastening of this emancipation is as bad an error as an effort\nafter delay. The question as to whether a person is really ready for\nindependent action--as to whether his education is finished--may be\nsettled in much the same way in education as in politics. When any\npeople has progressed so far as to put the question whether they are\nready for freedom, it ceases to be a question; for, without the inner\nconsciousness of freedom itself, the question would never have occurred\nto them.\n\n\u00a7 50. But, although the pupil may rightly now be freed from the hands of\ninstructors, and no longer obtain his culture through them, it is by no\nmeans to be understood that he is not to go on with the work himself. He\nis now to educate himself. Each must plan out for himself the ideal\ntoward which he must daily strive. In this process of\nself-transformation a friend may aid by advice and example, but he\ncannot educate, for the act of educating necessarily implies inequality\nbetween teacher and pupil. The human necessity for companionship gives\nrise to societies of different kinds, in which we may, perhaps, say that\nthere is some approach to educating their members, the necessary\ninequality being supplied by various grades and orders. They presuppose\neducation in the usual sense of the word, but they wish to bring about\nan education in a higher sense, and, therefore, they veil the last form\nof their ideal in mystery and secrecy.\n\nBy the term _Philister_ the Germans indicate the man of a civilized\nstate who lives on, contented with himself and devoid of any impulse\ntowards further self-culture. To one who is always aspiring after an\nIdeal, such a one cannot but be repulsive. But how many are they who do\nnot, sooner or later, in mature life, crystallize, as it were, so that\nany active life, any new progress, is to them impossible?\n\n\nANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY.\n\n\u00a7 1. Pedagogics is not a complete, independent science by itself. It\nborrows the results of other sciences [_e.g._, it presupposes the\nscience of Rights, treating of the institutions of the family and civil\nsociety, as well as of the State; it presupposes the science of\nanthropology, in which is treated the relations of the human mind to\nnature. Nature conditions the development of the individual human being.\nBut the history of the individual and the history of the race presents a\ncontinual emancipation from nature, and a continual growth into freedom,\n_i.e._, into ability to know himself and to realize himself in the\nworld by making the matter and forces of the world his instruments and\ntools. Anthropology shows us how man as a natural being--_i.e._, as\nhaving a body--is limited. There is climate, involving heat and cold and\nmoisture, the seasons of the year, etc.; there is organic growth,\ninvolving birth, growth, reproduction, and decay; there is race,\ninvolving the limitations of heredity; there is the telluric life of the\nplanet and the circulation of the forces of the solar system, whence\narise the processes of sleeping, waking, dreaming, and kindred\nphenomena; there is the emotional nature of man, involving his feelings,\npassions, instincts, and desires; then there are the five senses, and\ntheir conditions. Then, there is the science of phenomenology, treating\nof the steps by which mind rises from the stage of mere feeling and\nsense-perception to that of self-consciousness, _i.e._, to a\nrecognition of mind as true substance, and of matter as mere phenomenon\ncreated by Mind (God). Then, there is psychology, including the\ntreatment of the stages of activity of mind, as so-called \"faculties\" of\nthe mind, _e.g._, attention, sense-perception, imagination, conception,\nunderstanding, judgment, reason, and the like. Psychology is generally\nmade (by English writers) to include, also, what is here called\nanthropology and phenomenology. After psychology, there is the science\nof ethics, or of morals and customs; then, the Science of Rights,\nalready mentioned; then, Theology, or the Science of Religion, and,\nafter all these, there is Philosophy, or the Science of Science. Now, it\nis clear that the Science of Education treats of the process of\ndevelopment, by and through which man, as a merely natural being,\nbecomes spirit, or self-conscious mind; hence, it presupposes all the\nsciences named, and will be defective if it ignores nature, or mind, or\nany stage or process of either, especially Anthropology, Phenomenology,\nPsychology, Ethics, Rights, \u00c6sthetics, or Science of Art and Literature,\nReligion, or Philosophy].\n\n\u00a7 2. The scope of pedagogics being so broad, and its presuppositions so\nvast, its limits are not well defined, and its treatises are very apt to\nlack logical sequence and conclusion; and, indeed, frequently to be mere\ncollections of unjustified and unexplained assumptions, dogmatically set\nforth. Hence the low repute of pedagogical literature as a whole.\n\n\u00a7 3. Moreover, education furnishes a special vocation, that of teaching.\n(All vocations are specializing--being cut off, as it were, from the\ntotal life of man. The \"division of labor\" requires that each individual\nshall concentrate his endeavors and be a _part_ of the whole).\n\n\u00a7 4. Pedagogics, as a special science, belongs to the collection of\nsciences (already described, in commenting on \u00a7 1) included under the\nphilosophy of Spirit or Mind, and more particularly to that part of it\nwhich relates to the will (ethics and science of rights, rather than to\nthe part relating to the intellect and feeling, as anthropology,\nphenomenology, psychology, \u00e6sthetics, and religion. \"Theoretical\"\nrelates to the _intellect_, \"practical\" relates to the _will_, in this\nphilosophy). The province of practical philosophy is the investigation\nof the nature of freedom, and the process of securing it by\nself-emancipation from nature. Pedagogics involves the conscious\nexertion of influence on the part of the will of the teacher upon the\nwill of the pupil, with a purpose in view--that of inducing the pupil to\nform certain prescribed habits, and adopt prescribed views and\ninclinations. The entire science of mind (as above shown), is\npresupposed by the science of education, and must be kept constantly in\nview as a guiding light. The institution of the _family_ (treated in\npractical philosophy) is the starting-point of education, and without\nthis institution properly realized, education would find no solid\nfoundation. The right to be educated on the part of children, and the\nduty to educate on the part of parents, are reciprocal; and there is no\nfamily life so poor and rudimentary that it does not furnish the most\nimportant elements of education--no matter what the subsequent influence\nof the school, the vocation, and the state.\n\n\u00a7 5. Pedagogics as science, distinguished from the same as an art: the\nformer containing the abstract general treatment, and the latter taking\ninto consideration all the conditions of concrete individuality,\n_e.g._, the peculiarities of the teacher and the pupil, and all the local\ncircumstances, and the power of adaptation known as \"tact.\"\n\n\u00a7 6. The special conditions and peculiarities, considered in education\nas an art, may be formulated and reduced to system, but they should not\nbe introduced as a part of the _science_ of education.\n\n\u00a7 7. Pedagogics has three parts: first, it considers the idea and nature\nof education, and arrives at its true definition; second, it presents\nand describes the special provinces into which the entire field of\neducation is divided; third, it considers the historical evolution of\neducation by the human race, and the individual systems of education\nthat have arisen, flourished, and decayed, and their special functions\nin the life of man.\n\n\u00a7 8. The scope of the first part is easy to define. The history of\npedagogics, of course, contains all the ideas or definitions of the\nnature of education; but it must not for that reason be substituted for\nthe scientific investigation of the nature of education, which alone\nshould constitute this first part (and the history of education be\nreserved for the third part).\n\n\u00a7 9. The second part includes a discussion of the threefold nature of\nman as body, intellect, and will. The difficulty in this part of the\nscience is very great, because of its dependence upon other sciences\n(_e.g._, upon physiology, anthropology, etc.), and because of the\ntemptation to go into details (_e.g._, in the practical department, to\nconsider the endless varieties of schools for arts and trades).\n\n\u00a7 10. The third part contains the exposition of the various national\nstandpoints furnished (in the history of the world) for the bases of\nparticular systems of education. In each of these systems will be found\nthe general idea underlying all education, but it will be found existing\nunder special modifications, which have arisen through its application\nto the physical, intellectual, and ethical conditions of the people. But\nwe can deduce the essential features of the different systems that may\nappear in history, for there are only a limited number of systems\npossible. Each lower form finds itself complemented in some higher form,\nand its function and purpose then become manifest. The systems of\n\"national\" education (_i.e._, Asiatic systems, in which the\nindividuality of each person is swallowed up in the substantiality of\nthe national idea--just as the individual waves get lost in the ocean on\nwhose surface they arise) find their complete explanation in the systems\nof education that arise in Christianity (the preservation of human life\nbeing the object of the nation, it follows that when realized abstractly\nor exclusively, it absorbs and annuls the mental independence of its\nsubjects, and thus contradicts itself by destroying the essence of what\nit undertakes to preserve, _i.e._, life (soul, mind); but within\nChristianity the principle of the state is found so modified that it is\nconsistent with the infinite, untrammelled development of the\nindividual, intellectually and morally, and thus not only life is saved,\nbut spiritual, free life is attainable for each and for all).\n\n\u00a7 11. The history of pedagogy ends with the present system as the latest\none. As science sees the future ideally contained in the present, it is\nbound to comprehend the latest system as a realization (though\nimperfect) of the ideal system of education. Hence, the system, as\nscientifically treated in the first part of our work, is the system with\nwhich the third part of our work ends.\n\n\u00a7 12. The nature of education, its form, its limits, are now to be\ninvestigated. (\u00a7\u00a7 13-50.)\n\n\u00a7 13. The nature of education determined by the nature of Mind or\nSpirit, whose activity is always devoted to realizing for itself what it\nis potentially--to becoming conscious of its possibilities, and to\ngetting them under the control of its will. Mind is potentially free.\nEducation is the means by which man seeks to realize in man his\npossibilities (to develop the possibilities of the race in each\nindividual). Hence, education has freedom for its object.\n\n\u00a7 14. Man is the only being capable of education, in the sense above\ndefined, because the only conscious being. He must know himself ideally,\nand then realize his ideal self, in order to become actually free. The\nanimals not the plants may be _trained_, or _cultivated_, but, as devoid\nof self-consciousness (even the highest animals not getting above\nimpressions, not reaching ideas, not seizing general or abstract\nthoughts), they are not realized for _themselves_, but only for us.\n(That is, they do not know their ideal as we do.)\n\n\u00a7 15. Education, taken in its widest compass, is the education of the\nhuman race by Divine Providence.\n\n\u00a7 16. In a narrower sense, education is applied to the shaping of the\nindividual, so that his caprice and arbitrariness shall give place to\nrational habits and views, in harmony with nature and ethical customs.\nHe must not abuse nature, nor slight the ethical code of his people, nor\ndespise the gifts of Providence (whether for weal or woe), unless he is\nwilling to be crushed in the collision with these more substantial\nelements.\n\n\u00a7 17. In the narrowest, but most usual application of the term, we\nunderstand by \"education\" the influence of the individual upon the\nindividual, exerted with the object of developing his powers in a\nconscious and methodical manner, either generally or in special\ndirections, the educator being relatively mature, and exercising\nauthority over the relatively immature pupil. Without authority on the\none hand and obedience on the other, education would lack its ethical\nbasis--a neglect of the will-training could not be compensated for by\nany amount of knowledge or smartness.\n\n\u00a7 18. The general province of education includes the development of the\nindividual into the theoretical and practical reason immanent in him.\nThe definition which limits education to the development of the\nindividual into ethical customs (obedience to morality, social\nconventionalities, and the laws of the state--Hegel's definition is here\nreferred to: \"The object of education is to make men ethical\") is not\ncomprehensive enough, because it ignores the side of the _intellect_,\nand takes note only of the _will_. The individual should not only be man\nin general (as he is through the adoption of moral and ethical\nforms--which are _general_ forms, customs, or laws, and thus the forms\nimposed by the _will_ of the _race_), but he should also be a\nself-conscious subject, a particular individual (man, through his\nintellect, exists for himself as an individual, while through his\ngeneral habits and customs he loses his individuality and spontaneity).\n\n\u00a7 19. Education has a definite object in view and it proceeds by grades\nof progress toward it. The systematic tendency is essential to all\neducation, properly so called.\n\n\u00a7 20. Division of labor has become requisite in the higher spheres of\nteaching. The growing multiplicity of branches of knowledge creates the\nnecessity for the specialist as teacher. With this tendency to\nspecialties it becomes more and more difficult to preserve what is so\nessential to the pupil--his rounded human culture and symmetry of\ndevelopment. The citizen of modern civilization sometimes appears to be\nan artificial product by the side of the versatility of the savage man.\n\n\u00a7 21. From this necessity of the division of labor in modern times there\narises the demand for two kinds of educational institutions--those\ndevoted to general education (common schools, colleges, etc.), and\nspecial schools (for agriculture, medicine, mechanic arts, etc).\n\n\u00a7 22. The infinite possibility of culture for the individual leaves,\nof course, his actual accomplishment a mere approximation to a complete\neducation. Born idiots are excluded from the possibility of education,\nbecause the lack of universal ideas in their consciousness precludes to\nthat class of unfortunates anything beyond a mere mechanical training.\n\n\u00a7 23. Spirit, or mind, makes its own nature; it _is_ what it produces--a\nself-result. From this follows the _form_ of education. It commences\nwith (1) undeveloped mind--that of the infant--wherein nearly all is\npotential, and but little is actualized; (2) its first stage of\ndevelopment is self-estrangement--it is absorbed in the observation of\nobjects around it; (3) but it discovers laws and principles\n(universality) in external nature, and finally identifies them with\nreason--it comes to recognize itself in nature--to recognize conscious\nmind as the creator and preserver of the external world--and thus\nbecomes at home in nature. Education does not create, but it\nemancipates.\n\n\u00a7 24. This process of self-estrangement and its removal belongs to all\nculture. The mind must fix its attention upon what is foreign to it, and\npenetrate its disguise. It will discover its own substance under the\nseeming alien being. Wonder is the accompaniment of this stage of\nestrangement. The love of travel and adventure arises from this basis.\n\n\u00a7 25. Labor is distinguished from play: The former concentrates its\nenergies on some object, with the purpose of making it conform to its\nwill and purpose; play occupies itself with its object according to its\ncaprice and arbitrariness, and has no care for the results or products\nof its activity; work is prescribed by authority, while play is\nnecessarily spontaneous.\n\n\u00a7 26. Work and Play: the distinction between them. In play the child\nfeels that he has entire control over the object with which he is\ndealing, both in respect to its existence and the object for which it\nexists. His arbitrary will may change both with perfect impunity, since\nall depends upon his caprice; he exercises his powers in play according\nto his natural proclivities, and therein finds scope to develope his own\nindividuality. In work, on the contrary, he must have respect for the\nobject with which he deals. It must be held sacred against his caprice,\nmust not be destroyed nor injured in any way, and its object must\nlikewise be respected. His own personal inclinations must be entirely\nsubordinated, and the business that he is at work upon must be carried\nforward in accordance with its own ends and aims, and without reference\nto his own feelings in the matter.\n\nThus work teaches the pupil the lesson of self-sacrifice (the right of\nsuperiority which the general interest possesses over the particular),\nwhile play develops his personal idiosyncrasy.\n\n\u00a7 27. Without play, the child would become more and more a machine, and\nlose all freshness and spontaneity--all originality. Without work, he\nwould develop into a monster of caprice and arbitrariness.\n\nFrom the fact that man must learn to combine with man, in order that the\nindividual may avail himself of the experience and labors of his\nfellow-men, self-sacrifice for the sake of combination is the great\nlesson of life. But as this should be _voluntary_ self-sacrifice,\neducation must train the child equally in the two directions of\nspontaneity and obedience. The educated man finds recreation in change\nof work.\n\n\u00a7 28. Education seeks to assimilate its object--to make what was alien\nand strange to the pupil into something familiar and habitual to him.\n[The pupil is to attack, one after the other, the foreign realms in the\nworld of nature and man, and conquer them for his own, so that he can be\n\"at home\" in them. It is the necessary condition of all growth, all\nculture, that one widens his own individuality by this conquest of new\nprovinces alien to him. By this the individual transcends the narrow\nlimits of particularity and becomes generic--the individual becomes the\nspecies. A good definition of education is this: it is the process by\nwhich the individual man elevates himself to the species.]\n\n\u00a7 29. (1) Therefore, the first requirement in education is that the\npupil shall acquire the habit of subordinating his likes and dislikes to\nthe attainment of a rational object.\n\nIt is necessary that he shall acquire this indifference to his own\npleasure, even by employing his powers on that which does not appeal to\nhis interest in the remotest degree.\n\n\u00a7 30. Habit soon makes us familiar with those subjects which seemed so\nremote from our personal interest, and they become agreeable to us. The\nobjects, too, assume a new interest upon nearer approach, as being\nuseful or injurious to us. That is useful which serves us as a means for\nthe realization of a rational purpose; injurious, if it hinders such\nrealization. It happens that objects are useful in one sense and\ninjurious in another, and _vice versa_. Education must make the pupil\ncapable of deciding on the usefulness of an object, by reference to its\neffect on his permanent vocation in life.\n\n\u00a7 31. But _good and evil_ are the ethical distinctions which furnish the\nabsolute standard to which to refer the question of the usefulness of\nobjects and actions.\n\n\u00a7 32. (2) Habit is (a) _passive_, or (b) _active_. The passive habit\nis that which gives us the power to retain our equipoise of mind in the\nmidst of a world of changes (pleasure and pain, grief and joy, etc). The\nactive habit gives us skill, presence of mind, tact in emergencies, etc.\n\n\u00a7 33. (3) Education deals altogether with the formation of habits. For\nit aims to make some condition or form of activity into a second nature\nfor the pupil. But this involves, also, the breaking up of previous\nhabits. This power to break up habits, as well as to form them, is\nnecessary to the freedom of the individual.\n\n\u00a7 34. Education deals with these complementary relations (antitheses):\n(a) authority and obedience; (b) rationality (_general_ forms) and\nindividuality; (c) work and play; (d) habit (general custom) and\nspontaneity. The development and reconciliation of these opposite sides\nin the pupil's character, so that they become his second nature, removes\nthe phase of constraint which at first accompanies the formal\ninculcation of rules, and the performance of prescribed tasks. The\nfreedom of the pupil is the ultimate object to be kept in view, but a\ntoo early use of freedom may work injury to the pupil. To remove a pupil\nfrom all temptation would be to remove possibilities of growth in\nstrength to resist it; on the other hand, to expose him needlessly to\ntemptation is fiendish.\n\n\u00a7 35. Deformities of character in the pupil should be carefully traced\nback to their origin, so that they may be explained by their history.\nOnly by comprehending the historic growth of an organic defect are we\nable to prescribe the best remedies.\n\n\u00a7 36. If the negative behavior of the pupil (his bad behavior) results\nfrom ignorance due to his own neglect, or to his wilfulness, it should\nbe met directly by an act of authority on the part of the teacher (and\nwithout an appeal to reason). An appeal should be made to the\nunderstanding of the pupil only when he is somewhat mature, or shows by\nhis repetition of the offence that his proclivity is deep-seated, and\nrequires an array of all good influences to reinforce his feeble\nresolutions to amend.\n\n\u00a7 37. Reproof, accompanied by threats of punishment, is apt to\ndegenerate into scolding.\n\n\u00a7 38. After the failure of other means, punishment should be resorted\nto. Inasmuch as the punishment should be for the purpose of making the\npupil realize that it is the consequence of his deed returning on\nhimself, it should always be administered for some particular act of\nhis, and this should be specified. The \"overt act\" is the only thing\nwhich a man can be held accountable for in a court of justice; although\nit is true that the harboring of evil thoughts or intentions is a sin,\nyet it is not a crime until realized in an overt act.\n\n\u00a7 40. Punishment should be regulated, not by abstract rules, but in view\nof the particular case and its attending circumstances.\n\n\u00a7 41. Sex and age of pupil should be regarded in prescribing the mode\nand degree of punishment. Corporal punishment is best for pupils who are\nvery immature in mind; when they are more developed they may be punished\nby any imposed restraint upon their free wills which will isolate them\nfrom the ordinary routine followed by their fellow-pupils. (Deprivation\nof the right to do as others do is a wholesome species of punishment for\nthose old or mature enough to feel its effects, for it tends to secure\nrespect for the regular tasks by elevating them to the rank of rights\nand privileges.) For young men and women, the punishment should be of a\nkind that is based on a sense of honor.\n\n\u00a7 42. (1) Corporal punishment should be properly administered by means\nof the rod, subduing wilful defiance by the application of force.\n\n\u00a7 48. (2) Isolation makes the pupil realize a sense of his dependence\nupon human society, and upon the expression of this dependence by\nco\u00f6peration in the common tasks. Pupils should not be shut up in a dark\nroom, nor removed from the personal supervision of the teacher. (To shut\nup two or more in a room without supervision is not isolation, but\nassociation; only it is association for mischief, and not for study.)\n\n\u00a7 44. (3) Punishment based on the sense of honor may or may not be based\non isolation. It implies a state of maturity on the part of the pupil.\nThrough his offence the pupil has destroyed his equality with his\nfellows, and has in reality, in his inmost nature, isolated himself from\nthem. Corporal punishment is external, but it may be accompanied with a\nkeen sense of dishonor. Isolation, also, may, to a pupil, who is\nsensitive to honor, be a severe blow to self-respect. But a punishment\nfounded entirely on the sense of honor would be wholly internal, and\nhave no external discomfort attached to it.\n\n\u00a7 45. The necessity of carefully adapting the punishment to the age\nand maturity of the pupil, renders it the most difficult part of the\nteacher's duties. It is essential that the air and manner of the teacher\nwho punishes should be that of one who acts from a sense of painful\nduty, and not from any delight in being the cause of suffering. Not\npersonal likes and dislikes, but the rational necessity which is over\nteacher and pupil alike, causes the infliction of pain on the pupil.\n\n\u00a7 46. Punishment is the final topic to be considered under the head of\n\"Form of Education.\"\n\nIn the act of punishment the teacher abandons the legitimate province of\neducation, which seeks to make the pupil rational or obedient to what is\nreasonable, as a habit, and from his own free will. The pupil is\npunished in order that he may be _made_ to conform to the rational, by\nthe application of constraint. Another will is substituted for the\npupil's, and good behavior is produced, but not by the pupil's free act.\nWhile education finds a negative limit in punishment, it finds a\npositive limit in the accomplishment of its legitimate object, which is\nthe emancipation of the pupil from the state of imbecility, as regards\nmental and moral self-control, into the ability to direct himself\nrationally. When the pupil has acquired the discipline which enables him\nto direct his studies properly, and to control his inclinations in such\na manner as to pursue his work regularly, the teacher is no longer\nneeded for him--he becomes his own teacher.\n\nThere may be two extreme views on this subject--the one tending towards\nthe negative extreme of requiring the teacher to do everything for the\npupil, substituting his will for that of the pupil, and the other view\ntending to the positive extreme, and leaving everything to the pupil,\neven before his will is trained into habits of self-control, or his mind\nprovided with the necessary elementary branches requisite for the\nprosecution of further study.\n\n\u00a7 47. (1) The subjective limit of education (on the negative side) is to\nbe found in the individuality of the pupil--the limit to his natural\ncapacity.\n\n\u00a7 48. (2) The objective limit to education lies in the amount of time\nthat the person may devote to his training. It, therefore, depends\nlargely upon wealth, or other fortunate circumstances.\n\n\u00a7 49. (3) The absolute limit of education is the positive limit (see \u00a7\n46), beyond which the youth passes into freedom from the school, as a\nnecessary instrumentality for further culture.\n\n\u00a7 50. The pre-arranged pattern-making work of the school is now done,\nbut self-education may and should go on indefinitely, and will go on if\nthe education of the school has really arrived at its \"absolute\"\nlimit--_i.e._, has fitted the pupil for self-education. Emancipation\nfrom the school does not emancipate one from learning through his\nfellow-men. Man's spiritual life is one depending upon co\u00f6peration with\nhis fellow-men. Each must avail himself of the experience of his\nfellow-men, and in turn communicate his own experience to the common\nfund of the race. Thus each lives the life of the whole, and all live\nfor each. School-education gives the pupil the instrumentalities with\nwhich to enable him to participate in this fund of experience--this\ncommon life of the race. After school-education comes the still more\nvaluable education, which, however, without the school, would be in a\ngreat measure impossible.\n\n\n\n\nERRATA.\n\n\n\u00a7 26. Last two paragraphs should be within quotation marks, being from\nan English author.\n\n\u00a7 29. The second and third paragraphs belong to \u00a7 30.--the numbering\nbeing omitted.\n\n\u00a7 33. Line four--\"instructive\" should be \"intuitive.\"\n\n\n\n\nSECOND PART.\n\nThe Special Elements of Education.\n\n\n\u00a7 51. Education is the development of the theoretical and practical\nReason which is inborn in the human being. Its end is to be accomplished\nby the labor which transforms a condition, existent at first only as an\nideal, into a fixed habit, and changes the natural individuality into a\nglorified humanity. When the youth stands, so to speak, on his own feet,\nhe is emancipated from education, and education then finds its limit.\nThe special elements which may be said to make up education are the\nlife, the cognition, and the will of man. Without the first, the real\nnature of the soul can never be made really to appear; without\ncognition, he can have no genuine will--_i.e._, one of which he is\nconscious; and without will, no self-assurance, either of life or of\ncognition. It must not be forgotten that these three so-called elements\nare not to be held apart in the active work of education; for they are\ninseparable and continually interwoven the one with the other. But none\nthe less do they determine their respective consequences, and sometimes\none, sometimes another has the supremacy. In infancy, up to the fifth or\nsixth year, the physical development, or mere living, is the main\nconsideration; the next period, that of childhood, is the time of\nacquiring knowledge, in which the child takes possession of the theory\nof the world as it is handed down--a tradition of the past, such as man\nhas made it through his experience and insight; and finally, the period\nof youth must pave the way to a practical activity, the character of\nwhich the self-determination of the will must decide.\n\n\u00a7 52. We may, then, divide the elements of Pedagogics into three\nsections: (1) the physical, (2) the intellectual, (3) the practical.\n(The words \"orthobiotics,\" \"didactics,\" and \"pragmatics\" might be used\nto characterize them.)\n\n\u00c6sthetic training is only an element of the intellectual, as social,\nmoral, and religious training are elements of the practical. But because\nthese latter elements relate to external things (affairs of the world),\nthe name pragmatics, is appropriate. In so far as education touches on\nthe principles which underlie ethics, politics, and religion, it concurs\nwith those sciences, but it is distinguished from them in the capacity\nwhich it imparts for solving the problems presented by the others.\n\nThe scientific order of topics must be established through the fact that\nthe earlier, as the more abstract, constitute the condition of their\npresupposed end and aim, and the later because the more concrete\nconstitute the ground of the former, and consequently their final cause,\nor the end for which they exist; just as in human beings, life in the\norder of time comes before cognition, and cognition before will,\nalthough life really presupposes cognition, and cognition will.\n\n\nFIRST DIVISION.\n\nPHYSICAL EDUCATION, OR ORTHOBIOTICS.\n\n\n\u00a7 53. Only when we rightly comprehend the process of life may we know\nhow to live aright. Life, the \"circle of eternal change,\" is constantly\ntransforming the inorganic into the organic, and after using it,\nreturning it again to the realm of the inorganic. Whatever it does not\nassimilate of that which it has taken in simply as a stimulant, and\nwhatever has become dead, it separates from itself and rejects. The\norganism is in perfect health when it accomplishes this double task of\norganizing and disorganizing. On the comprehension of this single fact\nall laws of physical health or of hygiene are based. This idea of the\nessence of life is expressed by Goethe in his Faust, where he sees the\ngolden buckets perpetually rising and sinking.[13] When the equilibrium\nof the upward and downward motion is disturbed, we have disease. When\nthe motion ceases we have death, in which the whole organism becomes\ninorganic, and the \"dust returns to dust.\"\n\n\u00a7 54. It follows from this that not only in the organism as a whole, but\nin every organ, and every part of every organ, this restless change of\nthe inorganic to the organic is going on. Every cell has its own\nhistory, and this history is only the same as that of the whole of which\nit forms a part. Activity is then not inimical to the organism, but is\nthe appointed means by which the progressive and retrogressive\nmetamorphoses must be carried out. In order that the process may go on\nharmoniously, or, in other words, that the body may be healthy, the\nwhole organism, and every part of it in its own way, must have its\nperiod of productive activity and then also its period of rest in which\nit finds renewal of strength for another period of activity. Thus we\nhave waking and sleep, inspiration and expiration of air. Periodicity is\nthe law of life. When we understand the relative antagonism (their stage\nof tension) of the different organs, and their cycles of activity, we\nshall hold the secret of the constant self-renewal of life. This thought\nfinds expression in the old fairy stories of \"The Search after the\nFountain of Youth.\" And the figure of the fountain, with its rising and\nfalling waters, doubtless finds its origin in the dim comprehension of\nthe endless double movement, or periodicity of life.\n\n\u00a7 55. When to any organ, or to the whole organism, not sufficient time\nis allowed for it to withdraw into itself and to repair waste, we are\nconscious of fatigue. While the other organs all rest, however, one\nspecial organ may, as if separated from them, sustain a long-continued\neffort of activity even to the point of fatigue, without injury--as,\n_e.g._, the lungs in talking while all the other members are at rest.\nBut, on the other hand, it is not well to talk and run at the same time.\n\nThe idea that the body may be preserved in a healthy state longer by\nsparing it--_i.e._, by inactivity--is an error which springs from a\nfalse and mechanical conception of life. It is just as foolish to\nimagine that health depends on the abundance and excellence of food, for\nwithout the power of assimilating the food taken, nourishment of\nwhatever kind does more harm than good; all real strength develops from\nactivity alone.\n\n\u00a7 56. Physical education, according as it relates to the repairing, the\nmuscular, or the emotional activities, is divided into (1) diatetics,\n(2) gymnastics, (3) sexual education. In the direct activity of life\nthese all interact with each other, but for our purposes we are obliged\nto speak of them as if they worked independently. Moreover, in the\ndevelopment of the human being, they come into maturity of development\nin a certain order: nutrition, muscular growth, sexual maturity. But\nPedagogics can treat of these only as they are found in the infant, the\nchild, and the youth; for with the arrival of mature life, education is\nover.\n\n\nFIRST CHAPTER.\n\n_Diatetics._\n\n\n\u00a7 57. By diatetics we mean the art of repairing the constant waste of\nthe system, and, in childhood, of also building it up to its full form\nand size. Since in reality each organism has its own way of doing this,\nthe diatetical practice must vary somewhat with sex, age, temperament,\noccupation, and circumstances. The science of Pedagogics has then, in\nthis department, only to enunciate general principles. If we go into\ndetails, we fall into triviality. Nothing can be of more importance for\nthe whole life than the way in which the physical education is managed\nin the very first stages of development. So generally is this fact\naccepted, that almost every nation has its own distinct system, which\nhas been carefully elaborated. Many of these systems, no doubt, are\ncharacterized by gross errors, and widely differ as to time, place, and\ncharacter, and yet they all have a justification for their peculiar\nform.\n\n\u00a7 58. The best food for the infant in the first months of its life is\nits mother's milk. The employment of another nurse, if a general custom,\nas in France, is highly objectionable, since with the milk the child is\nlikely to imbibe to some extent his physical and ethical nature. The\nmilk of an animal can never supply the place to a child of that of its\nown mother. In Walter Scott's story of _The Fair Maid of Perth_, Eachim\nis represented as timorous by nature, having been nourished by a white\ndoe after the death of his mother.\n\n\u00a7 59. When the teeth make their appearance, it is a sign that the child\nis ready for solid food; and yet, till the second teeth appear, light,\nhalf-solid food and vegetables should constitute the principal part of\nthe diet.\n\n\u00a7 60. When the second teeth have come, then the organism demands both\nvegetable and animal food. Too much meat is, doubtless, harmful. But it\nis an error to suppose that man was intended to eat vegetables alone,\nand that, as some have said, the adoption of animal food is a sign of\nhis degeneracy.\n\nThe Hindoos, who live principally on a vegetable diet, are not at all,\nas has been asserted, a mild and gentle race. A glance into their\nstories, especially their erotic poetry, proves them to be quite as\npassionate as any other people.\n\n\u00a7 61. Man is an omnivorous being. Children have, therefore, a natural\ndesire to taste of every thing. With them, eating and drinking have\nstill a poetic side, and there is a pleasure in them which is not wholly\nthe mere pleasure of taste. Their proclivity to taste of every thing\nshould not, therefore, be harshly censured, unless it is associated with\ndisobedience, or pursued in a clandestine manner, or when it betrays\ncunning and greediness.\n\n\u00a7 62. Children need much sleep, because they are growing and changing so\nfast. In later years, waking and sleeping must be regulated, and yet not\ntoo exactly.\n\n\u00a7 63. The clothing of children should follow the form of the body, and\nshould be large enough to give them free room for the unfettered\nmovement of every limb in play.\n\nThe Germans do more rationally for children in the matter of sleep and\nof dress than in that of food, which they often make too rich, and\naccompany with coffee, tea, etc. The clothing should be not only\nsuitable in shape and size, it must also be made of simple and\ninexpensive material, so that the child may not be hampered in his play\nby the constant anxiety that a spot or a rent may cause fault to be\nfound with him. If we foster in the child's mind too much thought about\nhis clothes, we tend to produce either a narrow-mindedness, which treats\naffairs of the moment with too much respect and concerns itself with\nlittle things, or an empty vanity. Vanity is often produced by dressing\nchildren in a manner that attracts attention. (No one can fail to remark\nthe peculiar healthful gayety of German children, and to contrast it\nwith the different appearance of American children. It is undoubtedly\ntrue that the climate has much to do with this result, but it is also\ntrue that we may learn much from that nation in our way of treating\nchildren. Already we import their children's story-books, to the\ninfinite delight of the little ones, and copies of their children's\npictures are appropriated constantly by our children's magazines and\npicture-books. It is to be greatly desired that we should adopt the very\nsensible custom which prevails in Germany, of giving to each child its\nown little bed to sleep in, no matter how many may be required; and, in\ngeneral, we shall not go far astray if we follow the Germans in their\ntreatment of their happy children.)\n\n\u00a7 64. Cleanliness is a virtue to which children should be trained, not\nonly for the sake of their physical health, but also because it has a\ndecided moral influence. Cleanliness will not have things deprived of\ntheir distinctive and individual character, and become again a part of\noriginal chaos. It is only a form of order which remands all things,\ndirt included, to their own places, and will not endure to have things\nmixed and confused. All adaptation in dress comes from this same\nprinciple. When every thing is in its proper place, all dressing will be\nsuitable to the occasion and to the wearer, and the era of good taste in\ndress will have come. Dirt itself, as Lord Palmerston so wittily said,\nis nothing but \"matter out of place.\" Cleanliness would hold every\nindividual thing strictly to its differences from other things, and for\nthe reason that it makes pure air, cleanliness of his own body, of his\nclothing, and of all his surroundings really necessary to man, it\ndevelops in him the feeling for the proper limitations of all existent\nthings. (Emerson says: \"Therefore is space and therefore is time, that\nmen may know that things are not huddled and lumped, but sundered and\ndivisible.\" He might have said, \"Therefore is cleanliness.\")\n\n\nSECOND CHAPTER.\n\n_Gymnastics._\n\n\n\u00a7 65. Gymnastics is the art of cultivating in a rational manner the\nmuscular system. The activity of the voluntary muscles, which are under\nthe control of the brain, in distinction from the involuntary, which are\nunder the control of the spinal cord, renders possible the connection of\nman with the external world, and acts in a reflex manner back upon the\ninvoluntary or automatic muscles for the purposes of repair and\nsensation. Because the activity of muscle-fibre consists in the change\nfrom contraction to expansion, and the reverse, gymnastics must use a\nconstant change of movements which shall not only make tense, but relax\nthe muscles that are to be exercised.\n\n\u00a7 66. The gymnastic art among any people will always bear a certain\nrelation to its art of war. So long as fighting consists mainly of\npersonal, hand-to-hand encounters of two combatants, so long will\ngymnastics turn its chief effort towards the development of the greatest\npossible amount of individual strength and dexterity. But after the\ninvention of fire-arms of long range has changed the whole idea of war,\nthe individual becomes only one member of a body, the army, the\ndivision, or the regiment, and emerges from this position into his\nindividuality again only occasionally, as in sharpshooting, in the\nonset, or in the retreat. Modern gymnastics, as an art, can never be the\nsame as the ancient art, for this very reason: that because of the loss\nof the individual man in the general mass of combatants, the matter of\npersonal bravery is not of so much importance as formerly. The same\nessential difference between ancient and modern gymnastics, would result\nfrom the subjective, or internal character of the modern spirit. It is\nimpossible for us, in modern times, to devote so much thought to the\ncare of the body and to the reverential admiration of its beauty as did\nthe Greeks.\n\nThe Turners' Unions and Turners' Halls in Germany belonged to the period\nof intense political enthusiasm in the German youth, and had a political\nsignificance. Now they have come back again to their place as an\ninstrument of education, and seem in great cities to be of much\nimportance. In mountainous countries, and in country life generally, a\ndefinite gymnastic drill is of much less importance, for much and varied\nexercise is of necessity a constant part of the daily life of every one.\n\nThe constant opportunity and the impulse to recreation helps in the same\ndirection. In cities, on the contrary, there is not free space enough\neither in houses or yards for children to romp to their heart's and\nbody's content. For this reason a gymnasium is here useful, so that they\nmay have companionship in their plays. For girls this exercise is less\nnecessary. Dancing may take its place, and systematic exercise should be\nused only where there is a tendency to some weakness or deformity. They\nare not to become Amazons. On the other hand, boys need the feeling of\ncomradeship. It is true they find this in some measure in school, but\nthey are not there perfectly on an equality, because the standing is\ndetermined to some extent by his intellectual ability. The academic\nyouth cannot hope to win any great pre\u00ebminence in the gymnastic hall,\nand running, climbing, leaping, and lifting do not interest him very\nmuch as he grows older. He takes a far more lively interest in exercises\nwhich have a military character. In Germany the gymnastic art is very\nclosely united with the art of war.\n\n(The German idea of a woman's whole duty--to knit, to sew, and to obey\nimplicitly--is perhaps accountable for what Rosenkranz here says of\nexercise as regards girls. We, however, who know that the most frequent\ndirect cause of debility and suffering in our young women is simply and\nsolely a want of muscular strength, may be pardoned for dissenting from\nhis opinion, and for suggesting that dancing is not a sufficient\nequivalent for the more violent games of their brothers. We do not fear\nto render them Amazons by giving them more genuine and systematic\nexercise, both physically and intellectually.)\n\n\u00a7 67. The main idea of gymnastics, and indeed of all exercise, is to\ngive the mind control over its natural impulses, to make it master of\nthe body which it inhabits, and of itself. Strength and dexterity must\ncombine to give us a sense of mastership. Strength by itself produces\nthe athlete, dexterity by itself the acrobat. Pedagogics must avoid both\nthese extremes. Neither must it base its teaching of gymnastics on the\nidea of utility--as, _e.g._, that man might save his life by swimming,\nshould he fall into the water, and hence swimming should be taught, etc.\n\nThe main thought must be always to enable the soul to take full and\nperfect possession of the organism, so as not to have the body form a\nlimit or fetter to its action in its dealings with the external world.\nWe are to give it a perfect instrument in the body, in so far as our\ncare may do so. Then we are to teach it to use that instrument, and\nexercise it in that use till it is complete master thereof.\n\n(What is said about the impropriety of making athletes and acrobats may\nwith justice be also applied to what is called \"vocal gymnastics;\"\nwhence it comes that we have too often vocal athletes and acrobats in\nour graduates, and few readers who can read at sight, without difficulty\nor hesitation, and with appreciation or enjoyment, one page of good\nEnglish.)\n\n\u00a7 68. There are all grades of gymnastic exercises, from the simple to\nthe most complex, constituting a system. At first sight, there seems to\nbe so much arbitrariness in these things that it is always very\nsatisfactory to the mind to detect some rational system in them. Thus we\nhave movements (_a_) of the lower extremities, (_b_) of the upper, (_c_)\nof the whole body, with corresponding movements, alternately, of the\nupper and of the lower extremities. We thus have leg, arm, and trunk\nmovements.\n\n\u00a7 69. (1) The first set of movements, those of the legs and feet, are of\nprime importance, because upon them depends the carriage of the whole\nbody. They are (_a_) walking, (_b_) running, (_c_) leaping; and each of\nthese, also, may have varieties. We may have high and low leaping, and\nrunning may be distinguished as to whether it is to be a short and\nrapid, or a slow and long-continued movement. We may also walk on\nstilts, or run on skates. We may leap with a pole, or without one.\nDancing is only an artistic and graceful combination of these movements.\n\n\u00a7 70. (2) The second set comprises the arm movements, which are about\nthe same as the preceding, being (_a_) lifting, (_b_) swinging; (_c_)\nthrowing. The use of horizontal poles and bars, as well as climbing and\ndragging, belong to lifting. Under throwing, come quoit and ball-playing\nand bowling. These movements are distinguished from each other not only\nquantitatively, but qualitatively; as, for instance, running is not\nmerely rapid walking; it is a different kind of movement from walking,\nas the position of the extended and contracted muscles is different.\n\n\u00a7 71. (3) The third set of exercises, those of the trunk, differ from\nthe other two, which should precede it, in that they bring the body into\ncontact with an object in itself capable of active resistance, which it\nhas to subdue. This object may be an element (water), an animal, or a\nhuman being; and thus we have (_a_) swimming, (_b_) riding, (_c_)\nfighting in single combat. In swimming we have the elastic fluid, water,\nto overcome by means of arm and leg movements. This may be made very\ndifficult by a strong current, or by rough water, and yet we always have\nhere to strive against an inanimate object. On the contrary, in\nhorseback riding we have to deal with something that has a self of its\nown, and the contest challenges not our strength alone, but also our\nskill and courage. The motion is therefore very complex, and the rider\nmust be able to exercise either or all of these qualities at need. But\nhis attention must not be wholly given to his horse, for he has to\nobserve also the road, and indeed every thing around him. One of the\ngreatest advantages of horseback riding to the overworked student or the\nbusiness man lies doubtlessly in the mental effort. It is impossible for\nhim to go on revolving in his mind the problems or the thoughts which\nhave so wearied or perplexed him. His whole attention is incessantly\ndemanded for the management of his horse, for the observation of the\nroad, which changes its character with every step, and with the objects,\nfar or near, which are likely to attract the attention of the animal he\nrides. Much good, doubtless, results from the exercise of the muscles of\nthe trunk, which are not in any other motion called into such active\nplay, but much also from the unavoidable distraction of the mind from\nthe ordinary routine of thought, which is the thing most needed. When\nthe object which we are to subdue, instead of being an animal, is a man\nlike ourselves, as in single combat, we have exercise both of body and\nmind pushed to its highest power. We have then to oppose an intelligence\nwhich is equal to our own, and no longer the intelligence of an\nunreasoning animal. Single combat is the truly chivalrous exercise; and\nthis also, as in the old chivalry time, may be combined with\nhorsemanship.\n\nIn single combat we find also a qualitative distinction, and this of\nthree kinds: (_a_) boxing and wrestling, (_b_) fighting with canes or\nclubs, and (_c_) rapier and sword fencing. The Greeks carried wrestling\nto its highest pitch of excellence. Among the British, a nation of\nsailors, boxing is still retained as a national custom. Fencing with a\ncane or stick is much in use among the French artisan class. The cane is\na sort of refined club. When the sword or rapier makes its appearance,\nwe come to mortal combat. The southern European excels in the use of the\nrapier; the Germans in that of the sword. The appearance of the pistol\nmarks the degeneracy of the art of single combat, as it makes the weak\nman equal to the strong, and there is therefore no more incentive to\ntrain the body to strength in order to overcome an enemy. (The trained\nintelligence, the quick eye, the steady hand, the wary thought to\nperceive and to take advantage of an opportunity--these are the\nqualities which the invention of gunpowder set up above strength and\nbrute force. The Greek nation, and we may say Greek mythology and art,\nwould have been impossible with gunpowder; the American nation\nimpossible without it.)\n\n\nTHIRD CHAPTER.\n\n_Sexual Education._\n\n\n[This chapter is designed for parents rather than for teachers, and is\nhence not paraphrased here. A few observations are, however, in place.]\nGreat care is necessary at the period of youth that a rational system of\nfood and exercise be maintained. But the general fault is in the\nomission of this care in preceding years. One cannot neglect due\nprecautions for many years, and then hope to repair the damage caused,\nby extreme care for one or two years.\n\nSpecial care is necessary that the brain be not overworked in early\nyears, and a morbid excitation of the whole nervous system thereby\ninduced. We desire to repress any tendency to the rapid development of\nthe nervous system. Above all, is the reading of the child to be\ncarefully watched and guarded. Nothing can be worse food for a child\nthan what are called sensational romances. That the reading of such\ntends to enfeeble and enervate the whole thinking power is a fact which\nproperly belongs to the intellectual side of our question not yet\nreached, and may be here merely mentioned. But the effect on the\nphysical condition of the youth, of such carelessly written sensational\nstories, mostly of the French type, and full of sensuous, if not sensual\nsuggestions, is a point not often enough considered. The teacher cannot,\nperhaps, except indirectly, prevent the reading of such trash at home.\nBut every influence which he can bring to bear towards the formation of\na purer and more correct taste, he should never omit. Where there is a\npublic library in the town, he should make himself acquainted with its\ncontents, and give the children direct help in their selection of books.\n\nThis is an external means. But he should never forget that every\ninfluence which he can bring to bear in his daily work to make science\npleasant and attractive, and every lesson which he gives in the use of\npure, correct English, free from exaggeration, from slang, and from\nmannerism, goes far to render such miserable and pernicious trash\ndistasteful even to the child himself.\n\nEvery example of thorough work, every pleasure that comes from the\nsolving of a problem or the acquisition of a new fact, is so much\nfortification against the advances of the enemy; while all shallow half\nwork, all pretence or show tend to create an appetite in the child's\nmind which shall demand such food.\n\nThe true teacher should always have in his mind these far-away and\nsubtle effects of his teaching; not present good or pleasure either for\nhimself or his pupil, but the far-off good--the distant development.\nThat idea would free him from the notion, too common in our day, that\nthe success or failure of his efforts is to be tested by any adroitly\ncontrived system of examinations; or still worse, exhibitions. His\nsuccess can alone be tested by the future lives of his pupils--by their\nlove for, or dislike of, new knowledge. His success will be marked by\ntheir active growth through all their lives; his failure, by their early\narrested development.\n\n\n\n\nAN OUTLINE OF EDUCATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY.\n\nBY WM. T. HARRIS.\n\n[TO BE USED AS AN INTRODUCTION TO PARAGRAPHS 81 TO 102 OF ROSENKRANZ'S\nPEDAGOGICS.]\n\n\nI.\n\n  What beings can be educated; the plant has reaction\n  against its surroundings in the form of nutrition; the\n  animal has reaction in the form of nutrition and feeling;\n  Aristotle calls the life of the plant the \"nutritive\n  soul,\" and the life of the animal the \"sensitive soul.\"\n\n  The life of the plant is a continual reproduction of new\n  individuals--a process of going out of one individual into\n  another--so that the particular individual loses its\n  identity, although the identity of the species is\n  preserved.\n\nThat which is dependent upon external circumstances, and is only a\ncircumstance itself, is not capable of education. Only a \"self\" can be\neducated; and a \"self\" is a conscious unity--a \"self-activity,\" a being\nwhich is through itself, and not one that is made by surrounding\nconditions.\n\nAgain, in order that a being possess a capacity for education, it must\nhave the ability to realize within itself what belongs to its species or\nrace.\n\nIf an acorn could develop itself so that it could realize, not only its\nown possibility as an oak, but its entire species, and all the varieties\nof oaks within itself, and without losing its particular individuality,\nit would possess the capacity for education. But an acorn, in reality,\ncannot develop its possibility without the destruction of its own\nindividuality. The acorn vanishes in the oak tree, and the crop of\nacorns which succeeds is not again the same acorn, except in _kind_ or\nspecies. \"The species lives, but the individual dies,\" in the vegetable\nworld.\n\nSo it is in the animal world. The brute lives his particular life,\nunable to develop within himself the form of his entire species, and\nstill less the form of all animal life. And yet the animal possesses\nself-activity in the powers of locomotion, sense-perception, feeling,\nemotion, and other elementary shapes. Both animal and plant react\nagainst surroundings, and possess more or less power to assimilate what\nis foreign to them. The plant takes moisture and elementary inorganic\nsubstances, and converts them into nutrition wherewith to build its\ncellular growth. The animal has not only this power of nutrition, which\nassimilates its surroundings, but also the power of _feeling_, which is\na wonderful faculty. _Feeling_ reproduces within the organism of the\nanimal the external condition; it is an ideal reproduction of the\nsurroundings. The environment of the plant may be seized upon and\nappropriated in the form of sap, or in the form of carbonic acid, for\nthe nourishment of that plant; but there is no ideal reproduction of the\nenvironment in the form of _feeling_, as in the animal.\n\nIn the activity of _feeling_, the animal transcends his material,\ncorporeal limits--lives beyond his mere body, and participates in the\nexistence of all nature. He reproduces within himself the external. Such\nbeing the nature of the activity of _feeling_, which forms the\ndistinguishing attribute that divides animals from plants, the question\nmeets us at the outset, \"Why is not the animal capable of education? Why\ncan he not realize within himself his entire species or race, as man\ncan?\"\n\nIn order to settle this fundamental question, we must study carefully\nthe scope and limits of this activity, which we have termed \"Feeling,\"\nand which is known under many names--as, sensation, sensibility,\nsensitivity, sense-perception, intuition, and others.\n\nEducation aims to develop the mind as intellect and will. It must know\nwhat it is to develop, and learn to distinguish higher or more complete\nstages of intellect and will from those which are rudimentary.\n\nAgain, the discussion of mind begins properly with the first or most\nundeveloped manifestation--at the stage where it is common to brutes and\nhuman beings. Hence we may begin our study of educational psychology at\nthis point where the distinction between animal and plant appears, and\nwhere the question of the capacity for education arises.\n\nWhen we understand the relation of feeling or sensibility to the higher\nmanifestations of mind, we shall see in what consists a capacity for\neducation, and we shall learn many essentials in regard to the matter\nand method, the _what_ and the _how_ of education.\n\nA general survey of the world discovers that there is inter-action\namong its parts. This is the verdict of science, as the systematic form\nof human experience. In the form of gravitation we understand that each\nbody depends upon every other body, and the annihilation of a particle\nof matter in a body would cause a change in that body which would affect\nevery other body in the physical universe. Even gravitation, therefore,\nis a manifestation of the whole universe in each part of it, although it\nis not a manifestation which exists _for_ that part, because the part\ndoes not _know_ it.\n\nThere are other forms wherein the whole manifests itself in each part of\nit--as, for example, in the phenomena of light, heat, and possibly in\nmagnetism and electricity. These forms of manifestation of the external\nworld upon an individual object are destructive to the individuality of\nthe object. If the nature of a thing is stamped upon it from without, it\nis an element only, and not a self; it is dependent, and belongs to that\non which it depends. It does not possess itself, but belongs to that\nwhich _makes_ it, and which gives evidence of ownership by continually\nmodifying it.\n\nBut the plant, as we just now said, has some degree of self-activity,\nand is not altogether made by the totality of external conditions. The\ngrowth of the plant is through assimilation of external substances. It\nreacts against its surroundings and digests them, and grows through the\nnutrition thus formed.\n\nAll beings that cannot react against surroundings and modify them, lack\nindividuality. Individuality begins with this power of reaction and\nmodification of external surroundings. Even the power of cohesion is a\nrudimentary form of reaction and of special individuality.\n\nIn the case of the plant, the reaction is _real_, but not also _ideal_.\nThe plant acts upon its food, and digests it, or assimilates it, and\nimposes its _form_ on that which it draws within its organism. It does\nnot, however, reproduce within itself the externality as that external\nexists for itself. It does not form within itself an idea, or even a\nfeeling of that which is external to it. Its participation in the\nexternal world is only that of _real_ modification of it or through it;\neither the plant digests the external, or the external limits _it_, and\nprevents its growth, so that where one begins the other ceases. Hence it\nis that the elements--the matter of which the plant is composed, that\nwhich it has assimilated even--still retain a large degree of foreign\npower or force--a large degree of externality which the plant has not\nbeen able to annul or to digest. The plant-activity subdues its food,\nchanges its shape and its place, subordinates it to its use; but what\nthe matter brings with it, and still retains of the world beyond the\nplant, does not exist for the plant; the plant cannot read or interpret\nthe rest of the universe from that small portion of it which it has\ntaken up within its own organism. And yet the history of the universe is\nimpressed on each particle of matter, as well within the plant as\noutside of it, and it could be understood were there capacities for\nrecognizing it.\n\nThe reaction of the life of the plant upon the external world is not\nsufficient to constitute a fixed, abiding individuality. With each\naccretion there is some change of particular individuality. Every growth\nto a plant is by the sprouting out of new individuals--new plants--a\nceaseless multiplication of individuals, and not the preservation of the\nsame individual. The species is preserved, but not the particular\nindividual. Each limb, each twig, even each leaf is a new individual,\nwhich grows out from the previous growth as the first sprout grew from\nthe seed. Each part furnishes a soil for the next. When a plant no\nlonger sends out new individuals, we say it is dead. The life of the\nplant is only a life of nutrition.\n\nAristotle called vegetable life \"the nutritive soul,\" and the life of\nthe animal the \"feeling,\" or _sensitive_ soul. Nutrition is only an\nactivity of preservation of the general form in new individuals, it is\nonly the life of the species, and not the life of the permanent\nindividual.\n\nTherefore we see that in the vegetable world we do not possess a being\nthat can be educated--for no individual of it can realize _within_\nitself the species; its realization of the species is a continual\nprocess of going out of itself in new individuals, but no activity of\n_return_ to itself, so as to preserve _the identity_ of an individual.\n\n\nII.\n\n  Feeling is a unity of the parts of an organism everywhere\n  present in it; feeling is also an ideal reproduction of\n  the external surroundings; feeling is therefore a\n  synthesis of the internal and external. Aristotle joins\n  locomotion and desire to feeling, as correlates; how\n  desire is a more explicit recognition of the unity of the\n  external and internal than the first form of feeling is;\n  feeling reproduces the external without destroying its\n  externality, while nutrition receives the external only\n  after it has destroyed its individuality and assimilated\n  it; desire is the side of feeling that unfolds into will.\n\nWith feeling or sensibility we come to a being that reacts on the\nexternal world in a far higher manner, and realizes a more wonderful\nform of individuality.\n\nThe animal possesses, in common with the plant, a process of\nassimilation and nutrition. Moreover, he possesses a capacity to _feel_.\nThrough _feeling_, or sensation, all of the parts of his extended\norganism are united in one centre. He is one individual, and not a\nbundle of separate individuals, as a plant is. With feeling, likewise,\nare joined _locomotion_ and _desire_. For these are counterparts of\nfeeling. He feels--_i.e._, lives as one indivisible unity throughout his\norganism and controls it, and moves the parts of his body. Desire is\nmore than mere feeling. Mere feeling alone is the perception of the\nexternal within the being, hence an ideal reproduction of the external\nworld. In feeling, the animal exists not only within himself, but also\npasses over his limit, and has for object the reality of the external\nworld that limits him. Hence it is the perception of his finiteness--his\nlimits are his defects, his needs, wants, inadequateness--his separation\nfrom the world as a whole. In feeling, the animal perceives his\nseparation from the rest of the world, and also his union with it.\nFeeling expands into desire when the external world, or some portion of\nit, is seen as ideally belonging to the limited unity of the animal\nbeing. It is beyond the limit, and ought to be assimilated within the\nlimited individuality of the animal.\n\nMere _feeling_, when attentively considered, is found to contain these\nwonderful features of self-activity: it reproduces for itself the\nexternal world that limits it; it makes for itself an ideal object,\nwhich includes its own self and its not-self at the same time. It is a\nhigher form than mere nutrition; for nutrition destroys the nature of\nsuch externality as it receives into itself, while feeling preserves the\nexternal in its foreign individuality.\n\nBut through _feeling_ the animal ascends to _desire_, and sees the\nindependent externality as an object for its acquisition, and through\nlocomotion it is enabled to seize and appropriate it in a degree which\nthe plant did not possess.\n\n\nIII.\n\n  The various forms of feeling--its specialization: (_a_)\n  touch, the feeling of mere limits, the indifferent\n  external independence of the organism and its\n  surroundings; (_b_) taste, feeling of the external object\n  when it is undergoing dissolution by assimilation; (_c_)\n  smell, the feeling of chemical dissolution in general;\n  (_d_) hearing, the feeling of the resistance of bodies\n  against attacks: sound being vibration caused by elastic\n  reaction against attacks on cohesion; (_e_) seeing, the\n  feeling of objects in their independence, without\n  dissolution or attack; plant life, nutrition, a process in\n  which the individuality is not preserved either in time or\n  in space; animal life, as feeling, preserves its\n  individuality as regards space, but not as regards time.\n\nHaving noted these important characteristics of the lower orders of\nlife, and found that _reaction_ from the part against the whole--from\nthe internal against the external--belongs to plant life and animal\nlife, we may now briefly mention the ways in which feeling is\nparticularized. In the lower animals it is only the feeling of touch; in\nhigher organisms it becomes also localized as seeing, hearing, taste,\nand smell. These forms of sense-perception constitute a scale (as it\nwere) of feeling. With touch, there is reproduction of externality, but\nthe ideality of the reproduction is not so complete as in the other\nforms. With taste, the feeling cognizes the external object as\nundergoing dissolution, and assimilation within its own organism. We\ntaste only what we are beginning to destroy by the first process of\nassimilation--that of eating. In smell, we perceive chemical dissolution\nof bodies. In seeing and hearing, we have the forms of _ideal_\nsensibility. Hearing perceives the attack made on the individuality of\nan external thing, and its reaction in vibrations, which reveal to us\nits internal nature--its cohesion, etc. In seeing, we have the highest\nform of sense-perception as the perception of things in their external\nindependence--not as being destroyed chemically, like the objects of\ntaste and smell; not as being attacked and resisting, like the objects\nwhich are known through the ear; not as mere limits to our organism, as\nin the sense of touch.\n\nSense-perception, as the developed realization of the activity of\nfeeling, belongs to the animal creation, including man as an animal.\n\nWe have not yet, therefore, answered the question of capacity for\neducation, so far as it concerns a discrimination between man and\nthe brute. We have only arrived at the conclusion that the vegetable\nworld does not possess the capacity for education, because its\nindividual specimens are no complete individuals, but only transitory\nphases manifesting the species by continual reproduction of\nnew individuals which are as incomplete as the old ones. Plant life\ndoes not possess that self-activity which returns into itself in the\nsame individual--if we may so express it; it goes out of one individual\ninto another perpetually. Its identity is that of the _species_,\nbut not of the _individual_.\n\nHow is it with the animal--with the being which possesses sensibility,\nor feeling? This question recurs. In feeling there is a reaction,\njust as in the plant. This reaction is, however, in an ideal\nform--the reproduction of the external without assimilation of it--and\nespecially is this the case in the sense of _sight_, though it is true\nof all forms of sensation to a less degree.\n\nBut all forms of sensibility are limited and special; they refer only\nto the _present_, in its forms of _here_ and _now_. The animal cannot feel\nwhat is not here and now. Even seeing is limited to what is present\nbefore it. When we reflect upon the significance of this limitation\nof sense-perception, we shall find that we need some higher form of\nself-activity still before we can realize the species in the individual,\n_i.e._, before we can obtain the true individual--the permanent\nindividuality.\n\nThe defect in plant life was, that there was neither identity of\nindividuality in space nor identify in time. The growth of the\nplant destroyed the individuality of the seed with which we began,\nso that it was evanescent in time; it served only as the starting-point\nfor new individualities, which likewise, in turn, served again the same\npurpose; and so its growth in space was a departure from itself as\nindividual.\n\nThe animal is a preservation of individuality as regards space. He\nreturns into himself in the form of _feeling_ or _sensibility_; but as\nregards time, it is not so--feeling being limited to the present.\nWithout a higher activity than feeling, there is no continuity of\nindividuality in the animal any more than in the plant. Each new moment\nis a new beginning to a being that has feeling, but not memory.\n\nThus the individuality of mere feeling, although a far more perfect\nrealization of individuality than that found in plant life, is yet,\nafter all, not a continuous individuality for itself, but only for the\nspecies.\n\nIn spite of the ideal self-activity which appertains to feeling, even\nin sense-perception, only the species lives in the animal and the\nindividual dies, unless there be higher forms of activity.\n\n\nIV.\n\n  Representation is the next form above sense-perception.\n  The lowest phase of representation is recollection, which\n  simply repeats for itself a former sense-perception or\n  series of sense-perceptions; in representation the mind is\n  free as regards external impressions; it does not require\n  the presence of the object, but recalls it without its own\n  time and place; fancy and imagination are next higher than\n  recollection, because the mind not only recalls images,\n  but makes new combinations of them, or creates them\n  altogether; attention is the appearance of the will in the\n  intellect; with attention begins the separation of the\n  transient from the variable in perception; memory is the\n  highest form of representation; memory deals with general\n  forms--not mere images of experience, but general types of\n  objects of perception; memory, in this sense, is\n  productive as well as reproductive; with memory arises\n  language.\n\nHere we pass over to the consideration of higher forms of intellect and\nwill.\n\nWhile mere sensation, as such, acts only in the presence of the\nobject--reproducing (ideally), it is true, the external object, the\nfaculty of representation is a higher form of self-activity (or of\nreaction against surrounding conditions), because it can recall, at its\nown pleasure, the ideal object. Here is the beginning of emancipation\nfrom the limitations of time.\n\nThe self-activity of representation can summon before it the object that\nis no longer present to it. Hence its activity is now a double one, for\nit can seize not only what is now and here immediately before it, but it\ncan compare this present object with the past, and identify or\ndistinguish between the two. Thus recollection or representation may\nbecome _memory_.\n\nAs memory, the mind achieves a form of activity far above that of\nsense-perception or mere recollection. It must be noted carefully that\nmere recollection or representation, although it holds fast the\nperception in time (making it permanent), does not necessarily\nconstitute an activity completely emancipated from time, nor indeed very\nfar advanced towards it. It is only the beginning of such emancipation.\nFor mere recollection stands in the presence of the special object of\nsense-perception; although the object is no longer present to the senses\n(or to mere feeling), yet the image is present to the representative\nperception, and is just as much a particular here and now as the object\nof sense-perception. There intervenes a new activity on the part of the\nsoul before it arrives at memory. Recollection is not memory, but it is\nthe activity which grows into it by the aid of the activity of\nattention.\n\nThe special characteristics of objects of the senses are allowed to drop\naway, in so far as they are unessential and merely circumstantial, and\ngradually there arises in the mind the type--the _general form_--of the\nobject perceived. This general form is the object of memory. Memory\ndeals therefore with what is general, and a type, rather than with what\nis directly recollected or perceived.\n\nThe activity by which the mind ascends from sense-perception to memory\nis the activity of attention. Here we have the appearance of the will in\nintellectual activity. Attention is the control of perception by means\nof the will. The senses shall no longer passively receive and report\nwhat is before them, but they shall choose some definite point of\nobservation, and neglect all the rest.\n\nHere, in the act of attention we find _abstraction_, and the greater\nattainment of freedom by the mind. The mind abstracts its view from the\nmany things before it, and concentrates on one point.\n\nEducators have for many ages noted that the habit of attention is the\nfirst step in intellectual education. With it we have found the point of\nseparation between the animal intellect and the human. Not attention\nsimply--like that with which the cat watches by the hole of a mouse--but\nattention which arrives at results of abstraction, is the distinguishing\ncharacteristic of educative beings.\n\nAttention abstracts from some things before it and concentrates on\nothers. Through attention grows the capacity to discriminate between\nthe special, particular object and its general type. Generalization\narises, but not what is usually called generalization--only a\nmore elementary form of it. Memory, as the highest form of\nrepresentation--distinguishing it from mere recollection, which\nreproduces only what has been perceived--such memory deals with the\ngeneral forms of objects, their continuity in time. Such activity of\nmemory, therefore, does not reproduce mere images, but only the\nconcepts or general ideas of things, and therefore it belongs to the\nstage of mind that uses language.\n\n\nV.\n\n  Language marks the arrival at the stage of thought--at the\n  stage of the perception of universals--hence at the\n  possibility of education; language fixes the general types\n  which the productive memory forms; each one of these\n  types, indicated by a word, stands for a possible infinite\n  of sense-perceptions or recollections; the word _tree_\n  stands for all the trees that exist, and for all that have\n  existed or will exist. Animals do not create for\n  themselves a new world of general types, but deal only\n  with the first world of particular objects; hence they are\n  lost in the variety and multiplicity of continuous\n  succession and difference. Man's sense-perception is with\n  memory; hence always a recognition of the object as not\n  wholly new, but only as an example of what he is mostly\n  familiar with. Intellectual education has for its object\n  the cultivation of reflection; reflection is the Platonic\n  \"Reminiscence,\" which retraces the unconscious processes\n  of thought\n\nLanguage is the means of distinguishing between the brute and the\nhuman--between the animal soul, which has continuity only in the species\n(which pervades its being in the form of _instinct_), and the _human_,\nsoul, which is immortal, and possessed of a capacity to be educated.\n\nThere is no language until the mind can perceive general types of\nexistence; mere proper names nor mere exclamations or cries do not\nconstitute language. All words that belong to language are\nsignificative--they \"_express_\" or \"_mean_\" something--hence they are\nconventional symbols, and not mere individual designations. Language\narises only through common consent, and is not an invention of one\nindividual. It is a product of individuals acting together as a\ncommunity, and hence implies the ascent of the individual into the\nspecies. Unless an individual could ascend into the species he could not\n_understand_ language. To know words and their meaning is an activity of\ndivine significance; it denotes the formation of universals in the\nmind--the ascent above the here and now of the senses, and above the\nrepresentation of mere images, to the activity which grasps together the\ngeneral conception of objects, and thus reaches beyond what is transient\nand variable.\n\nDoubtless the nobler species of animals possess not only\nsense-perception, but a considerable degree of the power of\nrepresentation. They are not only able to recollect, but to imagine or\nfancy to some extent, as is evidenced by their dreams. But that animals\ndo not generalize sufficiently to form for themselves a new objective\nworld of types and general concepts, we have a sufficient evidence in\nthe fact that they do not use words, or invent conventional symbols.\nWith the activity of the symbol-making form of representation, which we\nhave named Memory, and whose evidence is the invention and use of\nlanguage, the true form of individuality is attained, and each\nindividual human being, as mind, may be said to be the entire species.\nInasmuch as he can form universals in his mind, he can realize the most\nabstract thought; and he is conscious. Consciousness begins when one can\nseize the pure universal in the presence of immediate objects here and\nnow.\n\nThe sense-perception of the mere animal, therefore, differs from that of\nthe human being in this:--\n\nThe human being knows himself as subject that sees the object, while the\nanimal sees the object, but does not separate himself, as universal,\nfrom the special act of seeing. To know that I am I, is to know the most\ngeneral of objects, and to carry out abstraction to its very last\ndegree; and yet this is what all human beings do, young or old, savage\nor civilized. The savage invents and uses language--an act of the\nspecies, but which the species cannot do without the participation of\nthe individual.\n\nIt should be carefully noted that this activity of generalization which\nproduces language, and characterizes the human from the brute, is not\nthe generalization of the activity of thought, so-called.\n\nIt is the preparation for thought. These general types of things are the\nthings which thought deals with. Thought does not deal with mere\nimmediate objects of the senses; it deals rather with the objects which\nare indicated by words--_i.e._, general objects.\n\nSome writers would have us suppose that we do not arrive at general\nnotions except by the process of classification and abstraction, in the\nmechanical manner that they lay down for this purpose. The fact is that\nthe mind has arrived at these general ideas in the process of learning\nlanguage. In infancy, most children have learned such words as _is_,\n_existence_, _being_, _nothing_, _motion_, _cause_, _change_, _I_,\n_you_, _he_, etc., etc.\n\nBut the point is not the mere arrival at these ideas. Education does\nnot concern itself with that; it does not concern itself with children\nwho have not yet learned to talk--that is left for the nursery.\n\nIt is the process of becoming conscious of these ideas by reflection,\nwith which we have to concern ourselves in education. Reflection is\neverywhere the object of education. Even when the school undertakes to\nteach pupils the correct method of observation--how to use the senses,\nas in \"object-lessons\"--it all means _reflective_ observation,\n_conscious_ use of the senses; it would put this in the place of the\n_na\u00efve_ spontaneity which characterizes the first stages of\nsense-perception.\n\nWe must not underrate these precepts of pedagogy because we find that\nthey are not what it claims for them--_i.e._, they are not methods of\nfirst discovery, and of arrival at principles, but only methods of\nreflection, and of recognizing what we have already learned. We see that\nPlato's \"Reminiscence\" was a true form of statement for the perception\nof truths of reflection. The first knowing is utterly unconscious of its\nown method; the second or scientific form of knowing, which education\ndevelops, is a knowing in which the mind knows its method. Hence it is a\nknowing which knows its own necessity and universality.\n\n\nVI.\n\n  Education presupposes the stage of mind reached in\n  productive memory; it deals with reflection; four stages\n  of reflection: (_a_) sensuous ideas perceive things; (_b_)\n  abstract ideas perceive forces or elements of a process;\n  (_c_) concrete idea perceives one process, a pantheistic\n  first principle, persistent force; (_d_) absolute idea\n  perceives a conscious first principle, absolute person.\n\nWe have considered in our psychological study thus far the forms of life\nand cognition, contrasting the phase of nutrition with that of feeling,\nor sensibility. We have seen the various forms of feeling in\nsense-perception, and the various forms of representation as the second\nphase of intellectual activity--the forms of recollection, fancy,\nimagination, attention, and memory. We draw the line between the animals\ncapable of education and those not capable of it, at the point of memory\ndefined--not as recollection, but as the faculty of general ideas or\nconceptions, to which the significant words of language correspond.\n\nWith the arrival at language, we arrive at education in the human sense\nof the term; with the arrival at language, we arrive at the view of the\nworld at which thought as a mental process begins. As sense-perception\nhas before it a world of _present_ objects, so thought has before it a\nworld of general concepts, which language has defined and fixed.\n\nIt is true that few persons are aware that language stands for a world\nof general ideas, and that reflection has to do with this world of\nuniversals. Hence it is, too, that so much of the so-called science of\neducation is very crude and impractical. Much of it is materialistic,\nand does not recognize the self-activity of mind; but makes it out to be\na correlation of physical energies--derived from the transmutation of\nfood by the process of digestion, and then by the brain converted into\nthought.\n\nLet us consider now the psychology of thinking, or reflection, and at\nfirst in its most inadequate forms. As a human process, the knowing is\nalways a knowing by universals--a re-cognition, and not simple\napprehension, such as the animals, or such as beings have that do not\nuse language. The process of development of stages of thought begins\nwith sensuous ideas, which perceive mere individual, concrete, real\nobjects, as it supposes. In conceiving these, it uses language and\nthinks general ideas, but it does not know it, nor is it conscious of\nthe relations involved in such objects. This is the first stage of\nreflection. The world exists for it as an innumerable congeries of\nthings, each one independent of the other, and possessing\nself-existence. It is the stand-point from which atomism would be\nadopted as the philosophic system. Ask it what the ultimate principle of\nexistence is, and it would reply, \"Atoms.\"\n\nBut this view of the world is a very unstable one, and requires very\nlittle reflection to overturn it, and bring one to the next basis--that\nof _abstract ideas_. When the mind looks carefully at the world of\nthings, it finds that there is dependence and interdependence. Each\nobject is related to something else, and changes when that changes. Each\nobject is a part of a process that is going on. The process produced it,\nand the process will destroy it--nay, it is destroying it now, while we\nlook at it. We find, therefore, that things are not the true beings\nwhich we thought them to be, but processes _are_ the reality. Science\ntakes this attitude, and studies out the history of each thing in its\nrise and its disappearance, and it calls this history the truth. This\nstage of thinking does not believe in _atoms_ or in _things_; it\nbelieves in _forces_ and _processes_--\"abstract ideas\"--because they are\nnegative, and cannot be seen by the senses. This is the dynamic\nstand-point in philosophy.\n\nReflection knows that these abstract ideas possess more truth, more\nreality, than the \"things\" of sense-perception; the force is more real\nthan the thing, because it outlasts a thing,--it causes things to\noriginate, and to change, and disappear.\n\nThis stage of abstract ideas or of negative powers or forces finally\nbecomes convinced of the essential unity of all processes and of all\nforces; it sets up the doctrine of the _correlation of forces_, and\nbelieves that persistent force is the ultimate truth, the fundamental\nreality of the world. This we may call a concrete idea, for it sets up a\nprinciple which is the origin of all things and forces, and also the\ndestroyer of all things, and hence more real than the world of things\nand forces; and because this idea, when carefully thought out, proves to\nbe the idea of self-determination--self-activity.\n\nPersistent force, as taught us by the scientific men of our day, is the\nsole ultimate principle, and as such it gives rise to all existence by\nits self-activity, for there is nothing else for it to act upon. It\ncauses all origins, all changes, and all evanescence. It gives rise to\nthe particular forces--heat, light, electricity, magnetism, etc.--which\nin their turn cause the evanescent forms which sense-perception sees as\n\"things.\"\n\nWe have described three phases:--\n\n  I. Sensuous Ideas perceive \"things.\"\n  II. Abstract Ideas perceive \"forces.\"\n  III. Concrete Idea perceives \"persistent force.\"\n\nIn this progress from one phase of reflection to another, the intellect\nadvances to a deeper and truer reality[14] at each step.\n\nSense-ideas which look upon the world as a world of independent objects,\ndo not cognize the world truly. The next step, abstract ideas, cognizes\nthe world as a process of forces, and \"things\" are seen to be mere\ntemporary equilibria in the interaction of forces; \"each thing is a\nbundle of forces.\" But the concrete idea of the Persistent force sees a\ndeeper and more permanent reality underlying particular forces. It is\none ultimate force. In it all multiplicity of existences has vanished,\nand yet it is the source of all particular existence.\n\nThis view of the world, on the stand-point of concrete idea, is\npantheistic. It makes out a one supreme principle which originates and\ndestroys all particular existences, all finite beings. It is the\nstand-point of Orientalism, or of the Asiatic thought. Buddhism and\nBrahminism have reached it, and not transcended it. It is a necessary\nstage of reflection in the mind, just as much as the stand-point of the\nfirst stage of reflection, which regards the world as composed of a\nmultiplicity of independent things; or the stand-point of the second\nstage of reflection, which looks upon the world as a collection of\nrelative existences in a state of process.\n\nThe final stand-point of the intellect is that in which it perceives the\nhighest principle to be a self-determining or self-active Being,\nself-conscious, and creator of a world which manifests him. A logical\ninvestigation of the principle of \"persistent force\" would prove that\nthis principle of Personal Being is presupposed as its true form. Since\nthe \"persistent force\" is the sole and ultimate reality, it originates\nall other reality only by self-activity, and thus is self-determined.\nSelf-determination implies self-consciousness as the true form of its\nexistence.\n\nThese four forms of thinking, which we have arbitrarily called\n_sensuous_, _abstract_, _concrete_, and _absolute_ ideas, correspond to\nfour views of the world: (1) as a congeries of independent things; (2)\nas a play of forces; (3) as the evanescent appearance of a negative\nessential power; (4) as the creation of a Personal Creator, who makes it\nthe theatre of the development of conscious beings in his image. Each\nstep upward in ideas arrives at a more adequate idea of the true\nreality. _Force_ is more real than _thing_; persistent force than\nparticular forces; Absolute Person is more real than the force or forces\nwhich he creates.\n\nThis final form of thinking is the only form which is consistent with\nthe theory of education. Each individual should ascend by education into\nparticipation--_conscious_ participation--in the life of the species.\nInstitutions--family, society, state, church--all are instrumentalities\nby which the humble individual may avail himself of the help of the\nrace, and live over in himself its life. The highest stage of thinking\nis the stage of insight. It sees the world as explained by the principle\nof Absolute Person. It finds the world of institutions a world in\nharmony with such a principle.\n\n\n  [1] The parallelism between these two sciences, Medicine\n  and Education, is an obvious point, which every student\n  will do well to consider.\n\n  [2] This will again remind the student of the theories of\n  treatment in medicine in diseases which, in the\n  seventeenth century, were treated only by bleeding and\n  emetics, are now treated by nourishing food, and no\n  medicines, etc.\n\n  [3] The teacher will do well to consider the probable\n  result of the constant association with mental inferiors\n  entailed by his work, and also to consider what\n  counter-irritant is to be applied to balance, in his\n  character, this unavoidable tendency.\n\n  [4] The age at which the child should be subject to the\n  training of school life, or Education, properly so-called,\n  must vary with different races, nations, and different\n  children.\n\n  [5] The best educator is he who makes his pupils\n  independent of himself. This implies on the teacher's part\n  an ability to lose himself in his work, and a desire for\n  the real growth of the pupil, independent of any personal\n  fame of his own--a disinterestedness which places\n  education on a level with the noblest occupations of man.\n\n  [6] See analysis.\n\n  [7] Asiatic systems of Education have this basis (see \u00a7\n  178 of the original).\n\n  [8] The definition of freedom here implied is this: Mind\n  is free when it knows itself and wills its own laws.\n\n  [9] Perhaps, however slow the growth, there is real\n  progress in liberating the imprisoned soul (?)\n\n  [10] \"When me they fly, I am the wings.\"--_Emerson._\n\n  [11] The story of Peter Schlemihl, by Chamisso, may be\n  read in the English translation published in \"Hedge's\n  German Prose Writers.\"\n\n  [12] That is, punishment is retributive and not\n  corrective. Justice requires that each man shall have the\n  fruits of his own deeds; in this it assumes that each and\n  every man is free and self-determined. It proposes to\n  treat each man as free, and as the rightful owner of his\n  deed and its consequences. If he does a deed which is\n  destructive to human rights, it shall destroy his rights\n  and deprive him of property, personal freedom, or even of\n  life. But corrective punishment assumes immaturity of\n  development and consequent lack of freedom. It belongs to\n  the period of nurture, and not to the period of maturity.\n  The tendency in our schools is, however, to displace the\n  forms of mere corrective punishment (corporal\n  chastisement), and to substitute for them forms founded on\n  retribution--_e.g._, deprivation of privileges. See secs.\n  42 and 43.\n\n  [13] Faust; Part I., Scene I. \"How all weaves itself into\n  the Whole! Each works and lives in the other! How the\n  heavenly influences ascend and descend, and reach each\n  other the golden buckets!\"\n\n  [14] Hume, in his famous sketch of the Human\n  Understanding, makes all the perceptions of the human mind\n  resolve themselves into two distinct kinds: _impressions_\n  and _ideas_. \"The difference between them consists in the\n  degrees of force and liveliness with which they strike\n  upon the mind, and make their way into our thought and\n  consciousness. Those perceptions which enter with the most\n  force and violence we may name _impressions_, and under\n  this name include all our sensations, passions, and\n  emotions, as they make their first appearance in the soul.\n  By _ideas_, I mean the faint images of these in thinking\n  and reasoning.\" \"The identity which we ascribe to the mind\n  of man is only a fictitious one.\"\n\n  From this we see that his stand-point is that of \"sensuous\n  ideas,\" the first stage of reflection. The second or third\n  stage of reflection, if consistent, would not admit the\n  reality to be the object of sense-impressions, and the\n  abstract ideas to be only \"faint images.\" One who holds,\n  like Herbert Spencer, that persistent force is the\n  ultimate reality--\"the sole truth, which transcends\n  experience by underlying it\"--ought to hold that the\n  generalization which reaches the idea of unity of force is\n  the truest and most adequate of thoughts. And yet Herbert\n  Spencer holds substantially the doctrine of Hume, in the\n  words: \"We must predicate nothing of objects too great or\n  too multitudinous to be mentally represented, or we must\n  make our predications by means of extremely inadequate\n  representations of such objects--mere symbols of them.\"\n  (Page 27 of \"First Principles.\")","title":"Pedagogics as a System","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":82888}