Chapter 2

III.

The Limits of Education.

§ 46. The form of Education reaches its limits with the idea of punishment, because this is the attempt to subsume the negative reality and to make it conformable to its positive idea. But the limits of Education are found in the idea of its nature, which is to fashion the individual into theoretical and practical rationality. The authority of the Educator at last becomes imperceptible, and it passes over into advice and example, and obedience changes from blind conformity to free gratitude and attachment. Individuality wears off its rough edges, and is transfigured into the universality and necessity of Reason without losing in this process its identity. Work becomes enjoyment, and he finds his play in a change of activity. The youth takes possession of himself, and can be left to himself.

—There are two widely differing views with regard to the limits of Education. One lays great stress on the weakness of the pupil and the power of the teacher. According to this view, Education has for its province the entire formation of the youth. The despotism of this view often manifests itself where large numbers are to be educated together, and with very undesirable results, because it assumes that the individual pupil is only a specimen of the whole, as if the school were a great factory where each piece of goods is to be stamped exactly like all the rest. Individuality is reducedby the tyranny of such despotism to one uniform level till all originality is destroyed, as in cloisters, barracks, and orphan asylums, where only one individual seems to exist. There is a kind of Pedagogy also which fancies that one can thrust into or out of the individual pupil what one will. This may be called a superstitious belief in the power of Education.—The opposite extreme disbelieves this, and advances the policy which lets alone and does nothing, urging that individuality is unconquerable, and that often the most careful and far-sighted education fails of reaching its aim in so far as it is opposed to the nature of the youth, and that this individuality has made of no avail all efforts toward the obtaining of any end which was opposed to it. This representation of the fruitlessness of all pedagogical efforts engenders an indifference towards it which would leave, as a result, only a sort of vegetation of individuality growing at hap-hazard.—

§ 47.The limit of Education is(1)a Subjective one, a limit made by the individuality of the youth. This is a definite limit. Whatever does not exist in this individuality as a possibility cannot be developed from it. Education can only lead and assist; it cannot create. What Nature has denied to a man, Education cannot give him any more than it is able, on the other hand, to annihilate entirely his original gifts, although it is true that his talents may be suppressed, distorted, and measurably destroyed. But the decision of the question in what the real essence of any one's individuality consists can never be made with certainty till he has left behind him his years of development, because it is then only that he first arrives at the consciousness of his entire self; besides, at this critical time, in the first place, much knowledge only superficially acquired will drop off; and again, talents, long slumbering and unsuspected, may first make their appearance. Whatever has been forced upon a child in opposition to his individuality, whatever has been only driven into him and has lacked receptivity on his side, or a rational ground on the side of culture, remains attached to his being only as an external ornament, a foreign outgrowth which enfeebles his own proper character.

—We must distinguish from that affectation which arises through a misunderstanding of the limit of individuality, theway which many children and young persons have of supposing when they see models finished and complete in grown persons, that they themselves are endowed by Nature with the power to develop into the same. When they see a reality which corresponds to their own possibility, the presentiment of a like or a similar attainment moves them to an imitation of it as a model personality. This may be sometimes carried so far as to be disagreeable or ridiculous, but should not be too strongly censured, because it springs from a positive striving after culture, and needs only proper direction.—

§ 48. (2)The Objective limit of Educationlies in the means which can be appropriated for it. That the talent for a certain culture shall be present is certainly the first thing; but the cultivation of this talent is the second, and no less necessary. But how much cultivation can be given to it extensively and intensively depends upon the means used, and these again are conditioned by the material resources of the family to which each one belongs. The greater and more valuable the means of culture which are found in a family are, the greater is the immediate advantage which the culture of each one has at the start. With regard to many of the arts and sciences this limit of education is of great significance. But the means alone are of no avail. The finest educational apparatus will produce no fruit where corresponding talent is wanting, while on the other hand talent often accomplishes incredible feats with very limited means, and, if the way is only once open, makes of itself a centre of attraction which draws to itself with magnetic power the necessary means. The moral culture of each one is however, fortunately from its very nature, out of the reach of such dependence.

—In considering the limit made by individuality we recognize the side of truth in that indifference which considers Education entirely superfluous, and in considering the means of culture we find the truth in the other extreme of pedagogical despotism, which fancies that it can command whatever culture it chooses for any one without regard to his individuality.—

§ 49. (3)The Absolute limit of Educationis the time when the youth has apprehended the problem which he has tosolve, has learned to know the means at his disposal, and has acquired a certain facility in using them. The end and aim of Education is the emancipation of the youth. It strives to make him self-dependent, and as soon as he has become so it wishes to retire and to be able to leave him to the sole responsibility of his actions. To treat the youth after he has passed this point of time still as a youth, contradicts the very idea of Education, which idea finds its fulfilment in the attainment of majority by the pupil. Since the accomplishment of education cancels the original inequality between the educator and the pupil, nothing is more oppressing, nay, revolting to the latter than to be prevented by a continued dependence from the enjoyment of the freedom which he has earned.

—The opposite extreme of the protracting of Education beyond its proper time is necessarily the undue hastening of the Emancipation.—The question whether one is prepared for freedom has been often opened in politics. When any people have gone so far as to ask this question themselves, it is no longer a question whether that people are prepared for it, for without the consciousness of freedom this question would never have occurred to them.—

§ 50. Although educators must now leave the youth free, the necessity of further culture for him is still imperative. But it will no longer come directly through them. Their pre-arranged, pattern-making work is now supplanted by self-education. Each sketches for himself an ideal to which in his life he seeks to approximate every day.

—In the work of self-culture one friend can help another by advice and example; but he cannot educate, for education presupposes inequality.—The necessities of human nature produce societies in which equals seek to influence each other in a pedagogical way, since they establish by certain steps of culture different classes. They presuppose Education in the ordinary sense. But they wish to bring about Education in a higher sense, and therefore they veil the last form of their ideal in the mystery of secrecy.—To one who lives on contented with himself and without the impulse toward self-culture, unless his unconcern springs from his belonging to a savage state of society, the Germans give the name of Philistine, and he is always repulsive to the student who is intoxicated with an ideal.—

SECOND PART.

The Special Elements of Education.

§ 51. Education in general consists in the development in man of his inborn theoretical and practical rationality; it takes on the form of labor, which changes that state or condition, which appears at first only as a mere conception, into a fixed habit, and transfigures individuality into a worthy humanity. Education ends in that emancipation of the youth which places him on his own feet. The special elements which form the concrete content of all Education in general are the Life, Cognition, and Will of man. Without life mind has no phenomenal reality; without cognition, no genuine, i.e. conscious, will; and without will, no self-assurance of life and of cognition. It is true that these three elements are in real existence inseparable, and that consequently in the dialectic they continually pass over into one another. But none the less on this account do they themselves prescribe their own succession, and they have a relative and periodical ascendancy over each other. In Infancy, up to the fifth or sixth year, the purely physical development takes the precedence; Childhood is the time of learning, in a proper sense, an act by which the child gains for himself the picture of the world such as mature minds, through experience and insight, have painted it; and, finally, Youth is the transition period to practical activity, to which the self-determination of the will must give the first impulse.

§ 52. The classification of the special elements of Pedagogics is hence very simple: (1) the Physical, (2) the Intellectual, (3) the Practical. (We sometimes apply to these the words Orthobiotics, Didactics, and Pragmatics.)

—Æsthetic training constitutes only an element of the education of Intellectual Education, just as social, moral, and religious training form elements of Practical Education. But because these latter elements concern themselves with whatis external, the name "Pragmatics" is appropriate. In this sphere, Pedagogics should coincide with Politics, Ethics, and Religion; but it is distinguished from them through the aptitude which it brings with it of putting into practice the problems of the other three. The scientific arrangement of these ideas must therefore show that the former, as the more abstract, constitutes the conditions, and the latter, as the more concrete, the ground of the former, which are presupposed; and in consequence of this it is itself their principal teleological presupposition, just as in man the will presupposes the cognition, and cognition life; while, at the same time, life, in a deeper sense, must presuppose cognition, and cognition will.—

First Division.

PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

§ 53. The art of living rightly is based upon a comprehension of the process of Life. Life is the restless dialectic which ceaselessly transforms the inorganic into the organic, but at the same time creates out of itself another inorganic, in which it separates from itself whatever part of the inorganic has not been assimilated, which it took up as a stimulant, and that which has become dead and burned out. The organism is healthy when its reality corresponds to this idea of the dialectic, of a life which moves up and down, to and fro; of formation and re-formation, of organizing and disorganizing. All the rules for Physical Education, or of Hygiene, are derived from this conception.

§ 54. It follows from this that the change of the inorganic to the organic is going on not only in the organism as a whole, but also in its every organ and in every part of every organ; and that the organic as soon as it has attained its highest point of energy, is again degraded to the inorganic and thrown out. Every cell has its history. Activity is, therefore, not contradictory to the organism, but favors in it the natural progressive and regressive metamorphosis. This process can go on harmoniously; that is, the organism can be in health only when not only the whole organism, but each special organ, is allowed, after its productive activity, the corresponding rest and recreation necessary for its self-renewal. We have this periodicity exemplified in wakingand sleeping, also in exhalation and inhalation, excretion and taking in of material. When we have discovered the relative antagonism of the organs and their periodicity, we have found the secret of the perennial renewal of life.

§ 55. Fatigue makes its appearance when any organ, or the organism in general, is denied time for the return movement into itself and for renovation. It is possible for some one organ, as if isolated, to exercise a great and long-continued activity, even to the point of fatigue, while the other organs rest; as e.g. the lungs, in speaking, while the other parts are quiet; on the other hand, it is not well to speak and run at the same time. The idea that one can keep the organism in better condition by inactivity, is an error which rests upon a mechanical apprehension of life. Equally false is the idea that health depends upon the quantity and excellence of the food; without the force to assimilate it, it acts fatally rather than stimulatingly.True strength arises only from activity.

—The later physiologists will gradually destroy, in the system of culture of modern people, the preconceived notion which recommended for the indolent and lovers of pleasure powerful stimulants, very fat food, &c. Excellent works exist on this question.—

§ 56. Physical Education, as it concerns the repairing, the motor, or the nervous, activities, is divided into (1) Dietetics, (2) Gymnastics, (3) Sexual Education. In real life these activities are scarcely separable, but for the sake of exposition we must consider them apart. In the regular development of the human being, moreover, the repairing system has a relative precedence to the motor system, and the latter to the sexual maturity. But Pedagogics can treat of these ideas only with reference to the infant, the child, and the youth.

FIRST CHAPTER.

Dietetics.

§ 57. Dietetics is the art of sustaining the normal repair of the organism. Since this organism is, in the concrete, an individual one, the general principles of dietetics must, in their manner of application, vary with the sex, the age, the temperament, the occupation, and the other conditions, of the individual. Pedagogics as a science can only go over its generalprinciples, and these can be named briefly. It we attempt to speak of details, we fall easily into triviality. So very important to the whole life of man is the proper care of his physical nature during the first stages of its development, that the science of Pedagogics must not omit to consider the different systems which different people, according to their time, locality, and culture, have made for themselves; many, it is true, embracing some preposterous ideas, but in general never devoid of justification in their time.

§ 58. The infant's first nourishment must be the milk of its mother. The substitution of a nurse should be only an exception justified alone by the illness of the mother; as a rule, as happens in France, it is simply bad, because a foreign physical and moral element is introduced into the family through the nurse. The milk of an animal can never be as good for a child.

§ 59. When the teeth appear, the child is first able to eat solid food; but, until the second teeth come, he should be fed principally on light, fluid nourishment, and on vegetable diet.

§ 60. When the second teeth are fully formed, the human being is ready for animal as well as vegetable food. Too much meat is not good; but it is an anatomical error to suppose that man, by the structure of his stomach, was originally formed to live alone on vegetable diet, and that animal food is a sign of his degeneracy.

—The Hindoos, who subsist principally on vegetable diet, are not, as has been often asserted, a very gentle race: a glance into their history, or into their erotic poetry, shows them to be quite as passionate as other peoples.—

§ 61. Man is omnivorous. Children have therefore a natural desire to taste of everything. For them eating and drinking possess a kind of poetry; there is a theoretic ingredient blended with the material enjoyment. They have, on this account, a proneness to indulge, which is deserving of punishment only when it is combined with disobedience and secrecy, or when it betrays cunning and greediness.

§ 62. Children need much sleep, because they are undergoing the most active progressive metamorphosis. In after-life sleep and waking should be subjected to periodical regulation, but not too exactly.

§ 63. The clothing of children should be adapted to them; i.e. it should be cut according to the shape of the body, and it must be loose enough to allow free play to their desire for movement.

—With regard to this as well as to the sleeping arrangements for children, less in regard to food—which is often too highly spiced and too liberal in tea, coffee, &c.—our age has become accustomed to a very rational system. The clothing of children must be not only comfortable, but it should be made of simple and cheap material, so that the free enjoyment of the child may not be marred by the constant internal anxiety that a rent or a spot may bring him a fault-finding or angry word. From too great care as to clothing, may arise a meanness of mind which at last pays too great respect to it, or an empty frivolity. This last may be induced by dressing children too conspicuously.—

§ 64. Cleanliness is a virtue to which children should be accustomed for the sake of their physical well-being, as well as because, in a moral point of view, it is of the greatest significance. Cleanliness will not endure that things shall be deprived of their proper individuality through the elemental chaos. It retains each as distinguished from every other. While it makes necessary to man pure air, cleanliness of surroundings, of clothing, and of his body, it develops in him a sense by which he perceives accurately the particular limits of being in general.

SECOND CHAPTER.

Gymnastics.

§ 65. Gymnastics is the art of systematic training of the muscular system. The action of the voluntary muscles, which are regulated by the nerves of the brain, in distinction from the involuntary automatic muscles depending on the spinal cord, while they are the means of man's intercourse with the external world, at the same time re-act upon the automatic muscles in digestion and sensation. Since the movement of the muscular fibres consists in the change of contraction and expansion, it follows that Gymnastics must bring about a change of movement which shall both contract and expand the muscles.

§ 66. The system of gymnastic exercise of any nation corresponds always to its way of fighting. So long as this consists in the personal struggle of a hand-to-hand contest, Gymnastics will seek to increase as much as possible individual strength and adroitness. As soon as the far-reaching missiles projected from fire-arms become the centre of all the operations of war, the individual is lost in a body of men, out of which he emerges only relatively in sharp-shooting, in the charge, in single contests, and in the retreat. Because of this incorporation of the individual in the one great whole, and because of the resulting unimportance of personal bravery, modern Gymnastics can never be the same as it was in ancient times, even putting out of view the fact that the subjectiveness of the modern spirit is too great to allow it to devote so much attention to the care of the body, and the admiration of its beauty, as was given by the Greeks.

—The Turners' unions and halls in Germany belong to the period of subjective enthusiasm of the German student population, and had a political significance. At present, they have been brought back to their proper place as an Educational means, and they are of great value, especially in large cities. Among the mountains, and even in the country towns, a special institution for bodily exercise is less necessary, for the matter takes care of itself. The attractions of the situation and the games help to foster it. In great cities, however, the houses are often destitute of halls or open places where the children can take exercise in their leisure moments. In these cities, therefore, there must be some gymnastic hall where the sense of fellowship may be developed. Gymnastics are not so essential for girls. In its place, dancing is sufficient, and gymnastics should be employed for them only where there exists any special weakness or deformity, when they may be used as a restorative or preservative. They are not to become Amazons. The boy, on the contrary, needs to acquire the feeling of good-fellowship. It is true that the school develops this in a measure, but not fully, because it determines the standing of the boy through his intellectual ambition. The academical youth will not take much interest in special gymnastics unless he can gain preëminence therein. Running, leaping, climbing, and lifting, are too meaninglessfor their more mature spirits. They can take a lively interest only in the exercises which have a warlike character. With the Prussians, and some other German states, the art of Gymnastics identifies itself with military concerns.—

§ 67. The real idea of Gymnastics must always be that the spirit shall rule over its naturalness, and shall make this an energetic and docile servant of its will. Strength and adroitness must unite and become confident skill. Strength, carried to its extreme produces the athlete; adroitness, to its extreme, the acrobat. Pedagogics must avoid both. All immense force, fit only for display, must be held as far away as the idea of teaching Gymnastics with the motive of utility; e.g. that by swimming one may save his life when he falls into the water, &c. Among other things, this may also be a consequence; but the principle in general must always remain: the necessity of the spirit of subjecting its organism of the body to the condition of a perfect means, so that it may never find itself limited by it.

§ 68. Gymnastic exercises form a series from simple to compound. There appears to be so much arbitrariness in them that it is always very agreeable to the mind to find, on nearer inspection, some reason. The movements are (1) of the lower, (2) of the upper extremities; (3) of the whole body, with relative striking out, now of the upper, now of the lower extremities. We distinguish, therefore, foot, arm, and trunk movements.

§ 69. (1) The first series of foot-movements is the most important, and conditions the carriage of all the rest of the body. They are (a) walking; (b) running; (c) leaping: each of these being capable of modifications, as the high and the low leap, the prolonged and the quick run. Sometimes we give to these different names, according to the means used, as walking on stilts; skating; leaping with a staff, or by means of the hands, as vaulting. Dancing is only the art of the graceful mingling of these movements; and balancing, only one form of walking.

§ 70. (2) The second series embraces the arm-movements, and it repeats also the movements of the first series. It includes (a) lifting; (b) swinging; (c) throwing. All pole and bar practice comes under lifting, also climbing and carrying.Under throwing, come quoit and ball-throwing, and nine-pin playing. All these movements are distinguished from each other, not only quantitatively but also qualitatively, in the position of the stretched and bent muscles; e.g. running is something different from quick walking.

§ 71. (3) The third series, or that of movements of the whole body, differs from the preceding two, which should precede it, in this, that it brings the organism into contact with a living object, which it has to overcome through its own activity. This object is sometimes an element, sometimes an animal, sometimes a man. Our divisions then are (a) swimming; (b) riding; (c) fighting, or single combat. In swimming, one must conquer the yielding liquid material of water by arm and foot movements. The resistance met on account of currents and waves may be very great, but it is still that of a will-less and passive object. But in riding man has to deal with a self-willed being whose vitality calls forth not only his strength but also his intelligence and courage. The exercise is therefore very complicated, and the rider must be able perpetually to individualize it according to the necessity; at the same time, he must give attention not only to the horse, but to the nature of the ground and the entire surroundings. But it is only in the struggle with men that Gymnastics reaches its highest point, for in this man offers himself as a living antagonist to man and brings him into danger. It is no longer the spontaneous activity of an unreasoning existence; it is the resistance and attack of intelligence itself with which he has to deal. Fighting, or single combat, is the truly chivalrous exercise, and this may be combined with horsemanship.

—In the single combat there is found also a qualitative modification, whence we have three systems: (a) boxing and wrestling; (b) fencing with sticks; and (c) rapier and broad-sword fencing. In the first, which was cultivated to its highest point among the Greeks, direct immediateness rules. In the boxing of the English, a sailor-like propensity of this nation, fist-fighting is still retained as a custom. Fencing with a stick is found among the French mechanics, the so-calledcompagnons. Men often use the cane in their contests; it is a sort of refined club. When we use the sword or rapier,the weapon becomes deadly. The Southern Europeans excel in the use of the rapier, the Germans in that of the sword. But the art of single combat is much degenerated, and the pistol-duel, through its increasing frequency, proves this degeneration.—

THIRD CHAPTER.

Sexual Education.

Note.—The paragraphs relating to Sexual Education are designed for parents rather than for teachers, the parent being the natural educator of the family and sexual education relating to the preservation and continuance of the family. This chapter is accordingly, for the most part, omitted here. It contains judicious reflections, invaluable to parents and guardians.—Tr.

Note.—The paragraphs relating to Sexual Education are designed for parents rather than for teachers, the parent being the natural educator of the family and sexual education relating to the preservation and continuance of the family. This chapter is accordingly, for the most part, omitted here. It contains judicious reflections, invaluable to parents and guardians.—Tr.

§ 72. Gymnastic exercises fall naturally into a systematic arrangement determined by the chronological order of development through infancy, childhood, and youth. Walking, running, and leaping belong, to the first period; lifting, swinging, and throwing, to the second; swimming, riding, and bodily contests, to the third, and these last may also be continued into manhood. But with the arrival at youth, a new epoch makes its appearance in the organism. It prepares itself for the propagation of the species. It expands the individual through the need which he feels of uniting himself with another individual of the same species, but who is a polar opposite to him, in order to preserve the two in a new individual. The blood rushes more vigorously; the muscular strength becomes more easily roused into activity; an indefinable impulse, a sweet melancholy takes possession of the being. This period demands a special care in the educator.

§ 73. The general preventive guards must be found in a rational system of food and exercise. By care in these directions, the development of the bones, and with them of the brain and spinal cord at this period, may be led to a proper strength, and that the easily-moulded material may not be perverted from its normal functions in the development of the body to a premature manifestation of the sexual instinct.

§ 74. Special forethought is necessary lest the brain be too early over-strained, and lest, in consequence of such precocious and excessive action, the foundation for a morbid excitation of the whole nervous system be laid, which may easilylead to effeminate and voluptuous reveries, and to brooding over obscene representations. The excessive reading of novels, whose exciting pages delight in painting the love of the sexes for each other and its sensual phases, may lead to this, and then the mischief is done.

Second Division.

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

§ 80.Mens sana in corpore sanois correct as a pedagogical maxim, but false in the judgment of individual cases; because it is possible, on the one hand, to have a healthy mind in an unhealthy body, and, on the other hand, an unhealthy mind in a healthy body. To strive after the harmony of soul and body is the material condition of all proper activity. The development of intelligence presupposes physical health. Here we are to speak of the science of the art of Teaching. This had its condition on the side of nature, as was before seen, in physical Education, but in the sphere of mind it is related to Psychology and Logic. It unites, in Teaching, considerations on Psychology as well as a Logical method.

FIRST CHAPTER.

The Psychological Presupposition.

§ 81. If we would have a sound condition of Philosophy, it must, in intellectual Education, refer to the conception of mind which has been unfolded in Psychology; and it must appear as a defect in scientific method if Psychology, or at least the conception of the theoretical mind, is treated again as within Pedagogics. We must take something for granted. Psychology, then, will be consulted no further than is requisite to place on a sure basis the pedagogical function which relates to it.

§ 82. The conception ofattentionis the most important to Pedagogics of all those derived from Psychology. Mind is essentially self-activity. Nothing exists for it which it does not itself posit as its own. We hear it not seldom implied that something from outside conditions must make an impression on the mind, but this is an error. Mind lets nothing act upon it unless it has rendered itself receptive to it. Without this preparatory self-excitation the object does notreally penetrate it, and it passes by the object unconsciously or indifferently. The horizon of perception changes for each person with his peculiarities and culture. Attention is the adjusting of the observer to the object in order to seize it in its unity and diversity. Relatively, the observer allows, for a moment, his relation to all other surroundings to cease, so that he may establish a relation with this one. Without this essentially spontaneous activity, nothing exists for the mind. All result in teaching and learning depends upon the clearness and strength with which distinctions are made, and the saying,bene qui distinguit bene docit, applies as well to the pupil.

§ 83. Attention, depending as it does on the self-determination of the observer, can therefore be improved, and the pupil made attentive, by the educator. Education must accustom him to an exact, rapid, and many-sided attention, so that at the first contact with an object he may grasp it sufficiently and truly, and that it shall not be necessary for him always to be adding to his acquisitions concerning it. The twilight and partialness of intelligence which forces us always to new corrections because a pupil at the very commencement did not give entire attention, must not be tolerated.

§ 84. We learn from Psychology that mind does not consist of distinct faculties, but that what we choose to call so are only different activities of the same power. Each one is just as essential as the other, on which account Education must grant to each faculty its claim to the same fostering care. If we would construe correctly the axioma potiori fit denominatioto mean that man is distinguished from animals by thought, and that mediated will is not the same as thought, we must not forget that feeling and representing are not less necessary to a truly complete human being. The special direction which the activity of apprehending intelligence takes are (1) Perception, (2) Conception, (3) Thinking. Dialectically, they pass over into each other; not that Perception rises into Conception, and Conception into Thinking, but that Thinking goes back into Conception, and this again into Perception. In the development of the young, the Perceptive faculty is most active in the infant, the Conceptive in the child, and theThinking in the youth; and thus we may distinguish an intuitive, an imaginative, and a logical epoch.

—Great errors arise from the misapprehension of these different phases and of their dialectic, since the different forms which are suitable to the different grades of youth are mingled. The infant certainly thinks while he perceives, but this thinking is to him unconscious. Or, if he has acquired perceptions, he makes them into conceptions, and demonstrates his freedom in playing with them. This play must not be taken as mere amusement; it also signifies that he takes care to preserve his self-determination, and his power of idealizing, in opposition to the pleasant filling of his consciousness with material. Herein the delight of the child for fairy tales finds its reason. The fairy tale constantly destroys the limits of common actuality. The abstract understanding cannot endure this arbitrariness and want of fixed conditions, and thus would prefer that children should read, instead, home-made stories of the "Charitable Ann," of the "Heedless Frederick," of the "Inquisitive Wilhelmine," &c. Above all, it praises "Robinson Crusoe," which contains much heterogeneous matter, but nothing improbable. When the youth and maiden of necessity pass over into the earnestness of real life, the drying up of the imagination and the domination of the understanding presses in.—

I.The Intuitive Epoch.

§ 85. Perception, as the beginning of intellectual culture, is the free grasping of a content immediately present to the spirit. Education can do nothing directly toward the performance of this act; it can only assist in making it easy:—(1) it can isolate the subject of consideration; (2) it can give facility in the transition to another; (3) it can promote the many-sidedness of the interest, by which means the return to a perception already obtained has always a fresh charm.

§ 86. The immediate perception of many things is impossible, and yet the necessity for it is obvious. We must then have recourse to a mediated perception, and supply the lack of actual seeing by representations. But here the difficulty presents itself, that there are many objects which we are notable to represent of the same size as they really are, and we must have a reduced scale; and there follows a difficulty in making the representation, as neither too large nor too small. An explanation is then also necessary as a judicious supplement to the picture.

§ 87. Pictures are extremely valuable aids to instruction when they are correct and characteristic. Correctness must be demanded in these substitutes for natural objects, historical persons and scenes. Without this correctness, the picture, if not an impediment, is, to say the least, useless.

—It is only since the last half of the seventeenth century, i.e. since the disappearance of real painting, that the picture-book has appeared as an educational means; first of all, coming from miniature painting. Up to that time, public life had plenty of pictures of arms, furniture, houses, and churches; and men, from their fondness for constantly moving about, were more weary of immediate perception. It was only afterwards when, in the excitement of the thirty-years' war, the arts of Sculpture and Painting and Christian and Pagan Mythology became extinct, that there arose a greater necessity for pictured representations. TheOrbis Rerum Sensualium Pictus, which was also to bejanua linguarum reserata, of Amos Comenius, appeared first in 1658, and was reprinted in 1805. Many valuable illustrated books followed. Since that time innumerable illustrated Bibles and histories have appeared, but many of them look only to the pecuniary profit of the author or the publisher. It is revolting to see the daubs that are given to children. They are highly colored, but as to correctness, to say nothing of character, they are good for nothing. With a little conscientiousness and scientific knowledge very different results could be obtained with the same outlay of money and of strength. The uniformity which exists in the stock of books which German book-selling has set in circulation is really disgraceful. Everywhere we find the same types, even in ethnographical pictures. In natural history, the illustrations were often drawn from the imagination or copied from miserable models. This has changed very much for the better. The same is true of architectural drawings and landscapes, for which we have now better copies.—

§ 88. Children have naturally a desire to collect things, and this may be so guided that they shall collect and arrange plants, butterflies, beetles, shells, skeletons, &c., and thus gain exactness and reality in their perception. Especially should they practise drawing, which leads them to form exact images of objects. But drawing, as children practise it, does not have the educational significance of cultivating in them an appreciation of art, but rather that of educating the eye, as this must be exercised in estimating distances, sizes, and colors. It is, moreover, a great gain in many ways, if, through a suitable course of lessons in drawing, the child is advanced to a knowledge of the elementary forms of nature.

—That pictures should affect children as works of art is not to be desired. They confine themselves at first to distinguishing the outlines and colors, and do not yet appreciate the execution. If the children have access to real works of art, we may safely trust in their power, and quietly await their moral or æsthetic effect.—

§ 89. In order that looking at pictures shall not degenerate into mere diversion, explanations should accompany them. Only when the thought embodied in the illustration is pointed out, can they be useful as a means of instruction. Simply looking at them is of as little value towards this end as is water for baptism without the Holy Spirit. Our age inclines at present to the superstition that man is able, by means of simple intuition, to attain a knowledge of the essence of things, and thereby dispense with the trouble of thinking. Illustrations are the order of the day, and, in the place of enjoyable descriptions, we find miserable pictures. It is in vain to try to get behind things, or to comprehend them, except by thinking.

§ 90. The ear as well as the eye must be cultivated. Music must be considered the first educational means to this end, but it should be music inspired by ethical purity. Hearing is the most internal of all the senses, and should on this account be treated with the greatest delicacy. Especially should the child be taught that he is not to look upon speech as merely a vehicle for communication and for gaining information; it should also give pleasure, and therefore he should be taught to speak distinctly and with a good style,and this he can do only when he carefully considers what he is going to say.

—Among the Greeks, extraordinary care was given to musical cultivation, especially in its ethical relation. Sufficient proof of this is found in the admirable detailed statements on this point in the "Republic" of Plato and in the last book of the "Politics" of Aristotle. Among modern nations, also, music holds a high place, and makes its appearance as a constant element of education. Piano-playing has become general, and singing is also taught. But the ethical significance of music is too little considered. Instruction in music often aims only to train pupils for display in society, and the tendency of the melodies which are played is restricted more and more to orchestral pieces of an exciting or bacchanalian character. The railroad-gallop-style only makes the nerves of youth vibrate with stimulating excitement. Oral speech, the highest form of the personal manifestation of mind, was also treated with great reverence by the ancients. Among us, communication is so generally carried on by writing and reading, that the art of speaking distinctly, correctly, and agreeably, has become very much neglected. Practice in declamation accomplishes, as a general thing, very little in this direction. But we may expect that the increase of public speaking occasioned by our political and religious assemblies may have a favorable influence in this particular.—

II.The Imaginative Epoch.

§ 91. The activity of Perception results in the formation of an internal picture or image of its ideas which intelligence can call up at any time without the sensuous, immediate presence of its object, and thus, through abstraction and generalization, arises the conception. The mental image may (1) be compared with the perception from which it sprang, or (2) it may be arbitrarily altered and combined with other images, or (3) it may be held fast in the form of abstract signs or symbols which intelligence invents for it. Thus originate the functions (1) of the verification of conceptions, (2) of the creative imagination, and (3) of memory; but for their full development we must refer to Psychology.

§ 92. (1) The mental image which we form of an object maybe correct; again, it may be partly or wholly defective, if we have neglected some of the predicates of the perception which presented themselves, or in so far as we have added to it other predicates which only seemingly belonged to it, and which were attached to it only by its accidental empirical connection with other existences. Education must, therefore, foster the habit of comparing our conceptions with the perceptions from which they arose; and these perceptions, since they are liable to change by reason of their empirical connection with other objects, must be frequently compared with our conceptions previously formed by abstractions from them.

§ 93. (2) We are thus limited in our conceptions by our perceptions, but we exercise a free control over our conceptions. We can create out of them, as simple elements, the manifold mental shapes which we do not treat as given to us, but as essentially our own work. In Pedagogics, we must not only look upon this freedom as if it were only to afford gratification, but as the reaction of the absolute ideal native mind against the dependence in which the empirical reception of impressions from without, and their reproduction in conceptions, place it. In this process, it does not only fashion in itself the phenomenal world, but it rather fashions out of itself a world which is all its own.

§ 94. The study of Art comes here to the aid of Pedagogics, especially with Poetry, the highest and at the same time the most easily communicated. The imagination of the pupil can be led by means of the classical works of creative imagination to the formation of a good taste both as regards ethical value and beauty of form. The proper classical works for youth are those which nations have produced in the earliest stages of their culture. These works bring children face to face with the picture which mind has sketched for itself in one of the necessary stages of its development. This is the real reason why our children never weary of reading Homer and the stories of the Old Testament. Polytheism and the heroism which belongs to it are just as substantial an element of childish conception as monotheism with its prophets and patriarchs. We stand beyond both, because we are mediated by both, and embrace both in our stand-point.

—The purest stories of literature designed for the amusementof children from their seventh to their fourteenth year, consist always of those which were honored by nations and the world at large. One has only to notice in how many thousand forms the stories of Ulysses are reproduced by the writers of children's tales. Becker's "Tales of Ancient Times," Gustav Schwab's most admirable "Sagas of Antiquity," Karl Grimm's "Tales of Olden Times," &c., what were they without the well-talking, wily favorite of Pallas, and the divine swine-herd? And just as indestructible are the stories of the Old Testament up to the separation of Judah and Israel. These patriarchs with their wives and children, these judges and prophets, these kings and priests, are by no means ideals of virtue in the notion of our modern lifeless morality, which would smooth out of its pattern-stories for the "dear children" everything that is hard and uncouth. For the very reason that the shadow-side is not wanting here, and that we find envy, vanity, evil desire, ingratitude, craftiness, and deceit, among these fathers of the race and leaders of "God's chosen people," have these stories so great an educational value. Adam, Cain, Abraham, Joseph, Samson, and David, have justly become as truly world-historical types as Achilles and Patroclus, Agamemnon and Iphigenia, Hector and Andromache, Ulysses and Penelope.—

§ 95. There may be produced also, out of the simplest and most primitive phases of different epochs of culture of one and the same people, stories which answer to the imagination of children, and represent to them the characteristic features of the past of their people.

—The Germans possess such a collection of their stories in their popular books of the "Horny Sigfried," of the "Heymon Children," of "BeautifulMagelone," "Fortunatus," "The Wandering Jew," "Faust," "The Adventurous Simplicissimus," "TheSchildbürger," "The Island of Felsenburg," "Lienhard and Gertrude," &c. Also, the art works of the great masters which possess national significance must be spoken of here, as the Don Quixote of Cervantes.—

§ 96. The most general form in which the childish imagination finds exercise is that of fairy-tales; but Education must take care that it has these in their proper shape as national productions, and that they are not of the morbid kindwhich poetry so often gives us in this species of literature, and which not seldom degenerate to sentimental caricatures and silliness.

—The East Indian stories are most excellent because they have their origin with a childlike people who live wholly in the imagination. By means of the Arabian filtration, which took place in Cairo in the flourishing period of the Egyptian caliphs, all that was too characteristically Indian was excluded, and they were made in the "Tales of Scheherezade," a book for all peoples, with whose far-reaching power in child-literature, the local stories of a race, as e.g. Grimm's admirable ones of German tradition, cannot compare. Fairy-tales made to order, as we often see them, with a mediæval Catholic tendency, or very moral and dry, are a bane to the youthful imagination in their stale sweetness. We must here add, however, that lately we have had some better success in our attempts since we have learned to distinguish between the naïve natural poetry, which is without reflection, and the poetry of art, which is conditioned by criticism and an ideal. This distinction has produced good fruits even in the picture-books of children. The pretensions of the gentlemen who printed illustrated books containing nothing more solid than the alphabet and the multiplication table have become less prominent since such men as Speckter, Fröhlich, Gutsmuths, Hofman (the writer of "Slovenly Peter"), and others, have shown that seemingly trivial things can be handled with intellectual power, if one is blessed with it, and that nothing is more opposed to the child's imagination than thechildishnesswith which so many writers for children have fallen when they attempted to descend with dignity from their presumably lofty stand-point. Men are beginning to understand that Christ promised the kingdom of heaven to little children on other grounds than because they had as it were the privilege of being thoughtless and foolish.—

§ 97. For youth and maidens, especially as they approach manhood and womanhood, the cultivation of the imagination must allow the earnestness of actuality to manifest itself in its undisguised energy. This earnestness, no longer through the symbolism of play but in its objective reality,must now thoroughly penetrate the conceptions of the youth so that it shall prepare him to seize hold of the machinery of active life. Instead of the all-embracing Epos they should now read Tragedy, whose purifying process, through the alternation of fear and pity, unfolds to the youth the secret of all human destiny, sin and its expiation. The works best adapted to lead to history on this side are those of biography—of ancient times, Plutarch; of modern times, the autobiographies of Augustine, Cellini, Rousseau, Goethe, Varnhagen, Jung Stilling, Moritz, Arndt, &c. These autobiographies contain a view of the growth of individuality through its inter-action with the influences of its time, and, together with the letters and memoirs of great or at least note-worthy men, tend to produce a healthy excitement in the youth, who must learn to fight his own battles through a knowledge of the battles of others. To introduce the youth to a knowledge of Nature and Ethnography no means are better than those of books of travel which give the charm of first contact, the joy of discovery, instead of the general consciousness of the conquests of mind.

—If educative literature on the one hand broadens the field of knowledge, on the other it may also promote its elaboration into ideal forms. This happens, in a strict sense, through philosophical literature. But only two different species of this are to be recommended to youth: (1) well-written treatises which endeavor to solve a single problem with spirit and thoroughness; or, (2) when the intelligence has grown strong enough for it, the classical works of a real philosopher. German literature is fortunately very rich in treatises of this kind in the works of Lessing, Herder, Kant, Fichte, Schleiermacher, Humboldt, and Schiller. But nothing does more harm to youth than the study of works of mediocrity, or those of a still lower rank. They stupefy and narrow the mind by their empty, hollow, and constrained style. It is generally supposed that these standard works are too difficult, and that one must first seize them in this trivial and diluted form in order to understand them. This is one of the most prevalent and most dangerous errors, for these Introductions or Explanations, easily-comprehended Treatises, Summary Abstracts, are, because of their want of originalityand of the acuteness which belongs to it, much more difficult to understand than the standard work itself from which they drain their supplies. Education must train the youth to the courage which will attempt standard works, and it must not allow any such miserable preconceived opinions to grow up in his mind as that his understanding is totally unable to comprehend works like Fichte's "Science of Knowledge," the "Metaphysics" of Aristotle, or Hegel's "Phenomenology." No science suffers so much as Philosophy from this false popular opinion, which understands neither itself nor its authority. The youth mustlearn how to learn to understand, and, in order to do this, he must know that one cannot immediately understand everything in its finest subdivisions, and that on this account he must have patience, and must resolve to read over and over again, and to think over what he has read.—

§ 98. (3) Imagination returns again within itself to perception in that it replaces, for conceptions, perceptions themselves, which are to remind it of the previous conception. These perceptions may resemble in some way the perception which lies at the basis of the conception, and be thus more or less symbolical; or they may be merely arbitrary creations of the creative imagination, and are in this case pure signs. In common speech and writing, we call the free retaining of these perceptions created by imagination, and the recalling of the conceptions denoted by them,Memory. It is by no means a particular faculty of the mind, which is again subdivided into memory of persons, names, numbers, &c. As to its form, memory is the stage of the dissolution of conception; but as to its content, it arises from the interest which we take in a subject-matter. From this interest results, moreover, careful attention, and from this latter, facility in the reproductive imagination. If these acts have preceded, the fixing of a name, or of a number, in which the content interesting us is as it were summed up, is not difficult. When interest and attention animate us, it seems as if we did not need to be at all troubled about remembering anything. All the so-called mnemonic helps only serve to make more difficult the act of memory. This act is in itself a double function, consisting of, first, the fixing of the sign, and second,the fixing of the conception subsumed under it. Since the mnemonic technique adds to these one more conception, through whose means the things with which we have to deal are to be fixed in order to be able freely to express them in us, it trebles the functions of remembering, and forgets that the mediation of these and their relation—wholly arbitrary and highly artificial—must also be remembered. The true help of memory consists in not helping it at all, but in simply taking up the object into the ideal regions of the mind by the force of the infinite self-determination which mind possesses.

—Lists of names, as e.g. of the Roman emperors, of the popes, of the caliphs, of rivers, mountains, authors, cities, &c.; also numbers, as e.g. the multiplication table, the melting points of minerals, the dates of battles, of births and deaths, &c., must be learned without aid. All indirect means only serve to do harm here, and are required as self-discovered mediation only in case that interest or attention has become weakened.—

§ 99. The means to be used, which result from the nature of memory itself, are on the one hand the pronouncing and writing of the names and numbers, and on the other, repetition; by these we gain distinctness and certainty.

—All artificial contrivances for quickening the memory vanish in comparison with the art of writing, in so far as this is not looked at as a means of relieving the memory. That a name or a number should be this or that, is a mere chance for the intelligence, an entirely meaningless accident to which we have unconditionally to submit ourselves as unalterable. The intelligence must be accustomed to put upon itself this constraint. In science proper, especially in Philosophy, our reason helps to produce one thought from others by means of the context, and we can discover names for the ideas from them.—


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