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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36762-8.txt b/36762-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..567be58 --- /dev/null +++ b/36762-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6344 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Reform of Education, by Giovanni Gentile + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Reform of Education + +Author: Giovanni Gentile + +Translator: Dino Bigongiari + +Release Date: July 17, 2011 [EBook #36762] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REFORM OF EDUCATION *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward, Jonathan Ingram, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +THE REFORM OF EDUCATION + + +BY GIOVANNI GENTILE + + +AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY DINO BIGONGIARI + +With an Introduction by BENEDETTO CROCE + + + NEW YORK + HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY + 1922 + + + COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY + HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC. + + PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY + THE QUINN & BODEN COMPANY + RAHWAY, N.J. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + Introduction vii + I. Education and Nationality 3 + II. Education and Personality 18 + III. The Fundamental Antinomy of Education 40 + IV. Realism and Idealism in the Concept of Culture 63 + V. The Spirituality of Culture 85 + VI. The Attributes of Culture 110 + VII. The Bias of Realism 139 + VIII. The Unity of Education 166 + IX. Character and Physical Education 192 + X. The Ideal of Education 219 + XI. Conclusion 246 + + + + +NOTE + + +Shortly after Trieste fell into Italian hands, a series of lectures was +arranged for the school teachers of the city, in order to welcome them +to their new duties as citizens and officials of Italy. The task of +opening the series was assigned to Giovanni Gentile, Professor of +Philosophy in the University of Rome, who delivered the lectures which +constitute the present volume. At my request Signor Gentile has +rewritten the first chapter, eliminating some of the more local of the +allusions which the nature of the original occasion called forth, and +Senatore Croce has very generously contributed his illuminating +Introduction. The volume as it stands is more than a treatise on +education: it is at one and the same time an introduction to the thought +of one of the greatest of living philosophers, and an introduction to +the study of all philosophy. If the teachers of Trieste were able to +understand and to enjoy a philosophic discussion of their chosen work, +why should not the teachers of America? + +J. E. S. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +The author of this book has been working in the same field with me for +over a quarter of a century, ever since the time when we undertook--he a +very young man, and I somewhat his senior--to shake Italy out of the +doze of naturalism and positivism back to idealistic philosophy; or, as +it would be better to say, to philosophy pure and simple, if indeed +philosophy is always idealism. + +Together we founded a review, the _Critica_, and kept it going by our +contributions; together we edited collections of classical authors; and +together we engaged in many lively controversies. And it seems indeed as +though we really succeeded in laying hold of and again firmly +re-establishing in Italy the tradition of philosophical studies, thus +welding a chain which evidently has withstood the strain and destructive +fury of the war and its afterclaps. + +By this I do not mean to imply that our gradual achievements were the +result of a definite preconcerted plan. Our work was the spontaneous +consequence of our spontaneous mental development and of the spontaneous +agreement of our minds. And therefore this common task, too, gradually +becoming differentiated in accordance with the peculiarities of our +temperaments, our tendencies, and our attitudes, resulted in a kind of +division of labour between us. So that whereas I by preference have +devoted my attention to the history of literature, Gentile has +dedicated himself more particularly to the history of philosophy and +especially of Italian philosophy, not only as a thinker but as a +scholar too, and as a philologist. He may be said to have covered the +entire field from the Middle Ages to the present time by his works on +Scholasticism in Italy, on Bruno, on Telesio, on Renaissance +philosophy, on Neapolitan philosophy from Genovesi to Galluppi, on +Rosmini, on Gioberti, and on the philosophical writers from 1850 to +1900. And though his comprehensive _History of Italian Philosophy_, +published in parts, is far from being finished, the several sections +of it have been elaborated and cast in the various monographs which I +have just mentioned. + +In addition to this, Gentile has been devoting special attention to +religious problems. He took a very important part in the inquiry into +and criticism of "modernism," the hybrid nature of which he laid bare, +exposing both the inner contradictions and the scanty sincerity of the +movement. His handling of this question was shown to be effective by the +fact, among others, that the authors of the encyclical _Pascendi_, which +brought upon Modernism the condemnation of the Church, availed +themselves of the sharp edge of Gentile's logical arguments, prompted +by scientific loyalty and dictated by moral righteousness. + +Finally, and in a more close connection with the present work, it will +be remembered that Gentile has done away with the chaotic pedagogy of +the positivistic school, and has also definitely criticised the +educational theory of Herbart. As far back as 1900 he published a +monograph of capital importance, in which he showed that pedagogy in so +far as it is philosophical resolves itself without residuum into the +philosophy of the spirit; for the science of the spirit's education can +not but be the science of the spirit's development,--of its dialectics, +of its necessity. + +Indeed, we owe it to Gentile that Italian pedagogy has attained in the +present day a simplicity and a depth of concepts unknown elsewhere. In +Italy, not educational science alone, but the practice of it and its +political aspects have been thoroughly recast and amply developed. And +this, too, is due pre-eminently to the work of Gentile. His authority +therefore is powerfully felt in schools of all grades, for he has lived +intensely the life of the school and loves it dearly. + +In addition to these differences arising from our division of labour, +others may of course be noticed, and they are to be found in the form +that philosophical doctrines have taken on in each of us. Identity is +impossible in this field, for philosophy, like art, is closely bound up +with the personality of the thinker, with his spiritual interests, and +with his experiences of life. There is never true identity except in the +so-called "philosophical school," which indicates the death of a +philosophy, in the same way that the poetical school proclaims death in +poetry. + +And so it has come about that our general conception of philosophy as +simple philosophy of the spirit--of the subject, and never of nature, or +of the object--has developed a peculiar stress in Gentile, for whom +philosophy is above all that point in which every abstraction is +overcome and submerged in the concreteness of the act of Thought; +whereas for me philosophy is essentially methodology of the one real and +concrete Thinking--of historical Thinking. So that while he strongly +emphasises unity, I no less energetically insist on the distinction and +dialectics of the forms of the spirit as a necessary formation of the +methodology of historical judgment. But of this enough, especially since +the reader can only become interested in these differences after he has +acquired a more advanced knowledge of contemporary Italian philosophy. + +I am convinced that the translation and popularisation of Gentile's work +will contribute to the toilsome formation of that consciousness, of that +system of convictions, of that moral and mental faith which is the +profound need of our times. For our age, eager and anxious for Faith, is +perhaps not yet completely resigned to look for the new creed of +humanity there where alone it may be found, where by firm resolve it +may be secured--in pure Thought. Clear-sighted observers have perhaps +not failed to notice that the World War, in addition to every thing +else, has been a strife of religions, a clash of conflicting conceptions +of life, a struggle of opposed philosophies. It is surely not the duty +of thinkers to settle economic and political contentions by ineffective +appeals to the universal brotherhood of man; but it is rather their duty +to compose mental differences and antagonisms, and thus form the new +faith of humanity--a new Christianity or a new Humanism, as we may wish +to call it. Such a faith will certainly not be spared the conflicts from +which ancient Christianity itself was not free; but it may reasonably be +hoped that it will rescue us from intellectual anarchy, from unbridled +individualism, from sensualism, from scepticism, from pessimism, from +every aberration which for a century and a half has been harassing the +soul of man and the society of mankind under the name of Romanticism. + +BENEDETTO CROCE. + +ROME, April, 1921. + + + + +CHAPTER I + +EDUCATION AND NATIONALITY + + +Participation on the part of elementary school teachers in the work and +studies of the Universities has always seemed to me to constitute a real +need of culture and of primary education. For the elementary school, by +the very nature of the professional training of its teachers, is exposed +to a grave danger from which it must be rescued if we mean to keep it +alive. + +The training of the elementary school teacher tends to be dogmatic. True +it is that vigilant individuality and passionate love for his +exquisitely spiritual calling impel the school teacher to an untiring +criticism of his methods, of his actual teaching, and of the life of the +school which he directs and promotes. But nevertheless in consequence of +those very studies by which he has prepared himself to be an elementary +instructor, he is led to look upon that learning which constitutes his +mental equipment and the foundation of all his future teaching, as +something quite finished, rounded out, enclosed in definite formulas, +rules, and laws, all of which have been ascertained once for all and are +no longer susceptible of ulterior revision. He looks upon this learning +not as a developing organism, but as something definitely moulded and +stereotyped. From this the conclusion is drawn that a certain kind of +knowledge may serve as a corner stone for the whole school edifice. +Since his discipline and his teaching consist mainly of elements which +because of their abstractness miss the renovating flow of spiritual +life, the teacher slowly but surely ends by shutting himself up in a +certain number of ideas, which are final as far as he is concerned. They +are never corrected or transformed; in their mechanical fixity they +cease to live; and the mind which cherishes and preserves them loses its +natural tendency to doubt. Yet what is doubt but dissatisfaction with +what is known and with the manner of knowing, and a spur to further +inquiry, to better and fuller learning, to self scrutiny, to an +examination of one's own sentiments, one's own character, and an +inducement to broadmindedness, to a welcoming receptiveness of all the +suggestions and all the teachings which life at all moments generously +showers on us? + +The remedy against this natural tendency of the teacher's mind is to be +found in the University, where in theory, and so far as is possible, in +practice too, science is presented not as ready-made, definitely turned +out in final theories, enclosed in consecrated manuals; but as inquiry, +as research, as spiritual activity which does not rest satisfied with +its accomplishments, but for ever feels that it does not yet know or +does not know enough, aware of the difficulties which threaten every +attained position, and ready unrestingly to track them, to reveal them, +and meet them squarely. This life, which is perpetual criticism, and +unceasing progress in a learning which is never completed, which never +aspires to be complete, is the serious and fruitful purpose of the +University. Here we must come, to restore freshness to our spiritual +activities, which alone give value to knowledge, and wrest it from +deadening crystallisation, from mechanical rigidity. For this reason, it +seems to me, special provision should be made in the University to +satisfy the needs of school teachers. It is not a question of merely +furnishing them with additional information which they might just as +well get out of books. The University must act on their minds, shake +them, start them going, instil in them salutary doubt by criticism, and +develop a taste for true knowledge. + +The following chapters contain a series of University lectures, in +accordance with these criteria, and delivered originally to the +elementary teachers of Trieste, now for the first time again an Italian +city. They constitute a course which aims not to increase the quantity +of culture, but to change its character. It is an attempt to introduce +the elementary teacher into those spiritual workshops which are the +halls of a University, to induce him to take part in the original +investigations which constantly contribute to the formation of our +national learning; which forever make and reshape our ideas and our +convictions as to what we should want Italian science to be, the Italian +concepts of life and literature; as to what constitute the heirloom of +our school, that sacred possession bequeathed to us by our forefathers +which makes us what we are, which gives us a name and endows us with a +personality, by which we are enabled to look forward to a future of +Italy which is not solely economic and political, but moral and +intellectual as well. + +And thus, because of the time, the place, the audience, and the subject, +we are from the start brought face to face with a serious question,--a +question which has often been debated, and which in the last few years, +on account of the exasperation of national sentiment brought about by +the World War, has become the object of passionate controversies. For if +it has been frequently argued on one side that science is by nature and +ought to be national, there has been no lack of warning from the other +side as to the dangers of this position. For war, it was said, would, +sooner or later, come to an end and be a thing of the past; whereas +truth never sets, never becomes a thing of the past; it is error alone +that is destined to pass and disappear. We were reminded of the fact +that what is scientifically true and artistically beautiful is beautiful +and true beyond no less than within the national frontier; and that only +on this condition is it worthy of its name. This question therefore +presents itself as a preliminary to our investigation, and it is for us +to examine it. We shall do so in as brief a manner as the subject will +allow. + +We shall first point out the inutility of distinguishing science from +culture, education from instruction. Those who insist on these +distinctions maintain that though a school is never national in virtue +of the content of its scientific teaching, it must nevertheless be +national in that it transforms science into culture, makes it over into +an instrument with which to shape consciousness and conscience, and uses +it as a tool for the making of men and for the training of citizens. +Thus we have as an integral part of science a form of action directed on +the character and the will of the young generations that are being +nurtured and raised in accordance with national traditions and in view +of the ends which the state wants to attain. Such distinctions however +complicate but do not resolve the controversy. They entangle it with +other questions which it were better to leave untouched at this +juncture. For it might be said of questions what Manzoni said of books: +one at a time is enough--if it isn't too much. + +We shall therefore try to simplify matters, and begin by clarifying the +two concepts of nationality and of knowledge, in order to define the +concept of the "nationality of knowledge." What, then, is the nation? A +very intricate question, indeed, over which violent discussions are +raging, and all the more passionately because the premises and +conclusions of this controversy are never maintained in the peaceful +seclusion of abstract speculative theories, but are dragged at every +moment in the very midst of the concrete interests of the men themselves +who affirm or deny the value of nationalities. So that serious +difficulties are encountered every time an attempt is made to determine +the specific and concrete content of this concept of the nation, which +is ever present, and yet ever elusive. Proteus-like, it appears before +us, but as we try to grasp it, it changes semblance and breaks away. It +is visible to the immediate intuition of every national consciousness, +but it slips from thought as we strive to fix its essence. + +Is it common territory that constitutes nationality? or is it common +language? or political life led in common? or the accumulation of +memories, of traditions, and of customs by which a people looks back to +_one_ past where it never fails to find itself? Or is it perhaps the +relationship which binds together all the individuals of a community +into a strong and compact structure, assigning a mission and an +apostolate to a people's faith? One or the other of these elements, or +all of them together, have in turn been proposed and rejected with +equally strong arguments. For in each case it may be true or it may be +false that the given element constitutes the essence of a people's +nationality, or of any historical association whatsoever. All these +elements, whether separately or jointly, may have two different +meanings, one of which makes them a mere accidental content of the +national consciousness, whereas the other establishes them as necessary, +essential, and unfailing constituents. For they may have a merely +natural value, or they may have a moral and spiritual one. Our +birth-land, which nourished us in our infancy, and now shelters the +bodies of our parents, the mountains and the shores that surround it and +individualise it, these are natural entities. They are not man-made; we +cannot claim them, nor can we fasten our existence to them. Even our +speech, our religion itself, which do indeed live in the human mind, may +yet be considered as natural facts similar to the geographical accidents +which give boundaries and elevation to the land of a people. We may, +abstractly, look upon our language as that one which was spoken before +we were born, by our departed ancestors who somehow produced this +spiritual patrimony of which we now have the use and enjoyment, very +much in the same way that we enjoy the sunlight showered upon us by +nature. In this same way a few, perhaps many, conceive of religion: they +look upon it as something bequeathed and inherited, and not therefore as +the fruit of our own untiring faith and the correlate of our actual +personality. All these elements in so far as they are natural are +evidently extraneous to our personality. We do dwell within this +peninsula cloistered by the Alps; we delight in this luminous sky, in +our charming shores smiled upon by the waters of the Mediterranean. But +if we emigrate from this lovely abode, if under the stress of economic +motives we traverse the ocean and gather, a number of us, somewhere +across the Atlantic; and there, united by the natural tie of common +origin, and fastened by the identity of speech, we maintain ourselves as +a special community, with common interests and peculiar moral +affinities, then, in spite of the severance from our native peninsula, +we have preserved our nationality: Italy has crossed the ocean in our +wake. Not only can we sunder ourselves from our land, but we may even +relinquish our customs, forget our language, abandon our religion; or we +may, within our own fatherland, be kept separate by peculiar historical +traditions, by differences of dialects or even of language, by religion, +by clashing interests, and yet respond with the same sentiment and the +same soul to the sound of one Name, to the colours of one flag, to the +summons of common hopes, to the alarm of common dangers. + +And it is then that we feel ourselves to be a people; then are we a +nation. It is not what we put within this concept that gives consistency +and reality to the concept itself; it is the act of spiritual energy +whereby we cling to a certain element or elements in the consciousness +of that collective personality to which we feel we belong. Nationality +consists not in content which may vary, but in the form which a certain +content of human consciousness assumes when it is felt to constitute a +nation's character. + +But this truth is still far from being recognised. Its existence is not +even suspected by those who utilise a materially constituted nationality +as a title, that is, an antecedent, and a support for political rights +claimed by more or less considerable ethnical aggregates that are more +or less developed and more or less prepared to take on the form of free +and independent states and to secure recognition of a _de facto_ +political personality on the strength of an assumed _de jure_ +existence. + +This truth, however, was grasped by the profound intuition of Mazzini, +the apostle of nationalities, the man who roused our national energies, +and whose irresistible call awakened Italy and powerfully impelled her +to affirm her national being. Even from the first years of the _Giovine +Italia_ he insisted that Italy, when still merely an idea, prior to her +taking on a concrete and actual political reality, was not a people and +was not a nation. For a nation, he maintained, is not something existing +in nature; but a great spiritual reality. Therefore like all that is in +and for the spirit, it is never a fact ready to be ascertained, but +always a mission, a purpose, something that has to be realised--an +action. + +The Italians to whom Mazzini spoke were not the people around him. He +was addressing that future people which the Italians themselves had to +create. And they would create it by fixing their souls on one idea--the +idea of a fatherland to be conquered--a sacred idea, so noble that +people would live and die for it, as for that sovereign and ultimate +Good for which all sacrifices are gladly borne, without which man can +not live, outside of which he finds nothing that satisfies him, nothing +that is conducive to a life's work. For Mazzini nationality is not +inherited wealth, but it is man's own conquest. A people can not +faint-heartedly claim from others recognition of their nation, but must +themselves demonstrate its existence, realise it by their willingness to +fight and die for its independence: independence which is freedom and +unity and constitutes the nation. It is not true that first comes the +nation and then follows the state; the nation is the state when it has +triumphed over the enemy, and has overcome the oppression, which till +then were hindering its formation. It is not therefore a vague +aspiration or a faint wish, but an active faith, an energetic volition +which creates, in the freed political Power, the reality of its own +moral personality and of its collective consciousness. Hence the lofty +aim of Mazzini in insisting that Italy should not be made with the help +of foreigners but should be a product of the revolution, that is, of its +own will. + +And truly the nation is, substantially, as Mazzini saw and firmly +believed, the common will of a people which affirms itself and thus +secures self-realisation. A nation is a nation only when it wills to be +one. I said, when it really wills, not when it merely says it does. It +must therefore act in such a manner as to realise its own personality in +the form of the State beyond which there is no collective will, no +common personality of the people. And it must act seriously, sacrificing +the individual to the collective whole, and welcoming martyrdom, which +in every case is but the sacrifice of the individual to the universal, +the lavishing of our own self to the ideal for which we toil. + +From this we are not, however, to infer that a nation can under no +circumstances exist prior to the formation of its State. For if this +formation means the formal proclamation or the recognition by other +States, it surely does pre-exist. But it does not if we consider that +the proclamation of sovereignty is a moment in a previously initiated +process, and the effect of pre-existing forces already at work; which +effect is never definite because a State, even after it has been +constituted, continues to develop in virtue of those very forces which +produced it; so that it is constantly renewing and continually +reconstituting itself. Hence a State is always a future. It is that +state which this very day we must set up, or rather at this very +instant, and with all our future efforts bent to that political ideal +which gleams before us, not only in the light of a beautiful thought, +but as the irresistible need of our own personality. + +The nation therefore is as intimately pertinent and native to our own +being as the State, considered as Universal Will, is one with our +concrete and actual ethical personality. Italy for us is the fatherland +which lives in our souls as that complex and lofty moral idea which we +are realising. We realise it in every instant of our lives, by our +feelings, and by our thoughts, by our speech and by our imagination, +indeed, by our whole life which concretely flows into that Will which is +the State and which thus makes itself felt in the world. And this Will, +this State is Italy, which has fought and won; which has struggled for a +long time amid errors and sorrows, hopes and dejection, manifestations +of strength and confessions of weakness, but always with a secret +thought, with a deep-seated aspiration which sustained her throughout +her entire ordeal, now exalting her in the flush of action, now, in the +critical moment of resistance, confirming and fortifying her by the +undying faith in ultimate triumph. This nation, which we all wish to +raise to an ever loftier station of honour and of beauty, even though we +differ as to the means of attaining this end, is it not the substance of +our personality,--of that personality which we possess not as +individuals who drift with the current, but as men who have a powerful +self-consciousness and who look upward for their destiny? + +If we thus understand the nation, it follows that not only every man +must bear the imprint of his nationality, but that also there is no true +science, no man's science, which is not national. The ancients believed, +in conformity with the teachings of the Greeks, that science soars +outside of the human life, above the vicissitudes of mortals, beyond the +current of history, which is troubled by the fatal conflicts of error, +by falterings and doubts, and by the unsatisfied thirst for knowledge. +Truth, lofty, pure, motionless, and unchangeable, was to them the fixed +goal toward which the human mind moved, but completely severed from it +and transcendent. This concept, after two thousand years of speculation, +was to reveal itself as abstract and therefore fallacious,--abstract +from the human mind, which at every given instance mirrors itself in +such an image of truth, ever gazing upon an eternal ideal but always +intent on reshaping it in a new and more adequate form. The modern +world, at first with dim consciousness, and guided rather by a fortunate +intuition than by a clear concept of its own real orientation, then with +an ever clearer, ever more critical conviction, has elaborated a concept +which is directly antithetical to the classical idea of a celestial +truth removed from the turmoil of earthly things. It has accordingly and +by many ways reached the conclusion that reality, lofty though it be, +and truth itself, which nourishes the mind and alone gives validity to +human thought, are in life itself, in the development of the mind, in +the growth of the human personality, and that this personality, though +ideally beyond our grasp, is yet in the concrete always historical and +actual, and realises itself in its immanent value. It therefore creates +its truth and its world. Modern philosophy and modern consciousness no +longer point to values which, transcending history, determine its +movement and its direction by external finalities: they show to man that +the lofty aim which is his law is within himself; that it is in his ever +unsatisfied personality as it unceasingly strains upward towards its own +ideal. + +Science is no longer conceived to-day as the indifferent pure matter of +the intellect. It is an interest which invests the entire person, extols +it and with it moves onward in the eternal rhythm of an infinite +development. Science is not for us the abstract contemplation of yore; +it is self-consciousness that man acquires, and by means of which he +actuates his own humanity. And therefore science is no longer an +adornment or an equipment of the mind, considered as diverse to its +content; it is culture, and the formation of this very mind. So that +whenever science is as yet so abstract that it seems not to touch the +person and fails to form it or transform it, it is an indication that it +is not as yet true science. + +So we conclude thus: he who distinguishes his person from his knowledge +is ignorant of the nature of knowledge. The modern teacher knows of no +science which is not an act of a personality. It knows no personality +which admits of being sequestered from its ideas, from its ways of +thinking and of feeling, from that greater life which is the nation. +Concrete personality then is nationality, and therefore neither the +school nor science possesses a learning which is not national. + +And for this reason therefore our educational reforms which are inspired +by the teachings of modern idealistic philosophy demand that the school +be animated and vivified by the spiritual breath of the fatherland. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +EDUCATION AND PERSONALITY + + +It is essential at the very outset to understand clearly what is meant +by _concrete personality_, and why the particular or empirical +personality, as we are usually accustomed to consider it, is nothing +more than an abstraction. + +Ordinarily, relying on the most obvious data of experience, we are led +to believe that the sphere of our moral personality coincides exactly +with the sphere of our physical person, and is therefore limited and +contained by the surface of our material body. We consider this body in +itself as an indivisible whole, with such reciprocal correspondence and +interdependence of its parts as to become a veritable system. It seems +to us also that this system moves in space as a whole when the body is +displaced, continuing to remain united as long as it exists. We look +upon it as though it were separated from all other bodies, whether of +the same or of different kinds, in such a manner that it excludes others +from the place it occupies, and is itself in turn excluded by them. One +body then, one physical person, one moral personality--that moral +personality which each one of us recognises and affirms by the +consciousness of the ego. + +And in fact when I walk I am not a different person from when I think. +My ego remains the same whether my body moves through space or whether +my mind inwardly meditates. Impenetrability, which is possessed by +matter, seems to be also a property of human individualism. + +From my ego every other ego is apparently excluded. What I am no one +else can be, and I in turn cannot be confused with another person. Those +of my fellow beings that are most intimately, most closely related to me +seem yet as completely external to me, as thoroughly sundered from my +spirit, as their bodies are from mine. My father, my brother are dead. +They have vanished from this world in which I nevertheless continue to +exist; just as a stone remains in its place and is in no way affected +when another stone near by is removed; or as a mutilated pedestal may +still remain to remind the onlooker of the statue that was torn away. + +Hundreds of individuals assemble to listen to the words of an orator. +But no necessary ties exist between the various persons; and when the +speaking is over, each one goes his way confident that he has lost no +part of himself and that he has maintained his individuality absolutely +unaltered. + +Our elders lived on this planet when we had not yet arrived. After we +came, they gradually withdrew, one after the other. And just as they had +been able to exist without us, so shall we continue to live without +them, and away from them develop our personality. For each one of us, +according to this point of view, has his own being within himself, his +own particular destiny. Every man makes of himself the centre of his +world, of that universe which he has created with deeds and thoughts: a +universe of ideas, of images, of concepts, of systems, which are all in +his brain; a universe of values, of desirable goods and of abhorred +evils, all of which are rooted in his own individual will, in his +character, and originate from the peculiar manner in which he personally +colours this world and conceives the universe. + +What is another man's sorrow to me? What part have I in his joys? And +how can the science of Aristotle or of Galileo be anything to me, since +I do not know them, since I cannot read their books, and am totally +unfamiliar with their teachings? And the unknown wayfarer who passes by, +wrapped in his thoughts, what does he care for my loftiest conceptions, +for the songs that well forth from the depths of my soul? The hero's +exploit brings no glory to us; the heinous deed of the criminal makes us +shudder indeed, but drives no pangs of remorse through our conscience. +For every one of us has his own body and his own particular soul. Every +one, in short, is himself independently of what others may be. + +This conception, which we ordinarily form of our personality, and on +which we erect the system of our practical life in all our manifold +relations with other individuals, is an abstract concept. For when we +thus conceive our being, we see but a single side of it and that the +least important: we fail to grasp that part which reveals all that is +spiritual, and human, and truly and peculiarly ours. I shall not here +investigate how the human personality has two aspects so totally +different one from the other; and in what remote depths we must +search for the common root of these two contrasting and apparently +contradictory manifestations. Our task for the moment is to establish +within ourselves through reflection the firm conviction that we are +not lone individualities: that there is another and a better part of +us, an element which is the very antithesis of the particular, that +one, namely, which is the deep-seated source of our nature, by which +we cease, each one of us, to be in irreducible opposition to the rest of +humanity, and become instead what all the others are or what we want +them to be. + +In order to fix our attention on this more profound aspect of our inner +life, I shall take as an example one of those elements which are +contained in the concept of nationality, Language. Language it must be +remembered does not belong _per se_ to nationality; it belongs to it in +virtue of an act by which a will, a personality, affirms itself with a +determined content. We must now point out the abstract character of +that concept by which language, which is a constituent element of our +personality, is usually ascribed to what is merely particular in it. + +That language is a peculiar and constituent element of personality is +quite obvious. Through language we speak not to others only, but to +ourselves also. Speaking to ourselves means seeing within ourselves +our own ideas, our soul, our very self in short,--it means +self-consciousness, as the philosophers say, and therefore +self-control, clear vision of our acts, knowledge of what stirs within +us; it means, therefore, living not after the manner of dumb +animals, but as rational beings, as men. Man cannot think, have +consciousness of himself, reason, without first expressing all that to +himself. Man has been defined as a rational animal; he may also be +defined as the speaking animal. The remark is as old as Aristotle. + +Man, however, this animal endowed with the faculty of speaking, is not +man in general who never was, but the real man, the historical man, +actually existing. And he does not speak a general language, but a +certain definite one. + +When I speak before a public, I can but use my language, the Italian +language. And I exist, that is I affirm myself, I come into real being, +by thinking in conformity with my real personality, in so far as I +speak, and speak this language of mine. _My_ language, the _Italian_ +language. Here lies the problem. Were I not to speak, or were I to +speak otherwise than I know how, I would not be myself. This manner of +expressing myself is then an intrinsic trait of my personality. But this +speech which makes me what I am, and which therefore intimately belongs +to me, could it possibly be mine, could I use it, mould it into my own +life-substance, if, mine though it be, it were yet enclosed within me in +the manner that every particle of my flesh is contained within my body, +having nothing in common with any other part of matter co-existing in +space? Could my language in short really be my language, if it belonged +exclusively to me, to what I have called my particular or empirical +personality? + +A simple reflection will suffice to show that my language, like a beacon +of light, inwardly illumines my Thought, and renders visible to me every +movement and every sense, only because this language is not exclusively +my own. It is that same language through which I grasp the ancient +authors of Italy. I read about Francesca da Rimini and Count Ugolino, +and find them within me in the emotion of my throbbing soul. I read of +Petrarch's golden-haired Laura, of Ariosto's Angelica, fair love of +chivalrous men and the unhappy friend of youthful Medoro. I read of the +cunning art whereby the Florentine secretary, in his keen speculative +discourses, sought to establish the principalities and the state of +Italy. I read of the many loves, sorrows, discoveries and sublime +concepts which did not blossom forth from my spirit, but which, once +expressed by the great men of my country, have, because of their merits, +continued to exist in the imagination, in the intellect, in the hearts +of Italians, and have thus constituted a literature, a light-shedding +history which is the life of language, varied indeed and restless, but +ever the same. This is the language which I first heard from the dear +lips of my mother, which gradually and constantly I made my own by +studying and reflecting on the books and on the conversations of those +who for years, or days, or instants, were with me in my native town and +exchanged with me their thoughts and their sentiments; the language +which unites to me all those who, living or dead, together constitute +this which I call and feel to be my own people. + +Yet I might want to break away with my speech from this glorious +communion. I might try to demonstrate to myself that my speech is +exclusively mine, and surely I would thus accomplish something. I would +produce an exception which in this case too would serve to confirm the +rule. + +For surely a man may devise a cryptic language, a cipher, a jargon. +Secret codes and conventional cants are resorted to by individuals who +have some reason to conceal their meaning from others. Such individuals, +however, can form but very small groups, and because of the artificial +character of their communications never may constitute a nation. An +artificial jargon of this sort is however a language of some kind: it +must be, since art imitates nature. It complies with the law that is +immanent in the peculiar nature of language, namely, that there be +nothing secret or hidden in it, for speech and in general every form of +spiritual activity invests a community and aims at universality. The +jargon is possible only because of the key by which it may be translated +back into the common language. Give a ciphered document to the +cryptographer; by study and ingenuity--that is by the use of that very +intelligence which arbitrarily combined the cipher--he discovers the +key; thus he too breaks up the artificial form, and draws from it the +natural flow of a speech that is intelligible to all those who speak the +same national tongue. And again, words as they flow from the inspired +bosom of the poet, when they first appear in the freshness of the new +artistic creation, do have something that is cryptic. That language is +the poet's own; it never had been used by another; a jargon before it is +deciphered may be and is the language of a particular personality. But +if we look more attentively, we shall see that in both cases the +language is the language of the community. The inspired poet does indeed +speak to himself, but with the consciousness of a potential audience, he +utters a word to himself which must eventually be intelligible to others +because it is by its nature intelligible. In the conditions in which the +poet finds himself when speaking, he must use that word and no other, +and any other person in those same spiritual conditions would use, could +not help using, the same word. For his word is the Word, the one that is +required by the circumstances. And since he is a poet, a serious mind +uttering a word which needs no translation, it will be the word of his +own people first and then of humanity at large, in so far as its beauty +will inspire men of different nations and of diverse speech with the +desire of learning the poet's own intimate language. + +All this is true because the spirit is universal activity, which, far +from separating men, unites them. It realises historically its +universality in the community of the family, of the city, of the +district, and of the nation, and in every form of intimate aggregation +and of fusion which history may call into being. + +Language may or may not be in the formation of a man's nationality. What +however must be ever present is the Will by which man every moment of +his life renovates his own personality. Can the Will, by which each one +of us is what he is, be his own Will, exclusively his own? Or is the +Will itself, like language, not perhaps a national heirloom, but surely +a common act, a communion of life, in such a way that we live our own +life while living the life of the nation? + +Of course, in the abstract, as I have explained above, my will is +particular. But we must be reminded that Will is one thing, and +faint wishing another. There is such a thing as real effective +volition, and there is something which strives to be such and fails; +this latter we might call "velleity." Real will does not rest +satisfied with intentions, designs, or sterile desires; it acts, and +by its effectiveness it reveals itself, and by its value shows its +reality. And our being results not from velleities but from the real +will. We are not what we might conditionally desire to be, but what we +actually will to be. A velleity we might say is the will directed to +an end which is either relatively or absolutely impossible; will is +that which becomes effective. + +But, then, when is it that my will really is effective, really +_wills_? I am a citizen of a state which has power; this power, this +will of the state expresses itself to me in laws which I must obey. The +transgression of laws, if the state is in existence, bears with it the +inevitable punishment of the transgressor, that is, the application of +that law which the offender has refused to recognise. The state is +supported by the inviolability of laws, of those sacred laws of the +land which Socrates, as Plato tells us, taught his pupils to revere. I, +then, as a citizen of my country, am bound by its Law in such a +manner that to will its transgression is to aim at the impossible. +If I did so, I should be indulging in vain velleities, in which my +personality, far from realising itself, would on the contrary be +disintegrated and scattered. I then want what the law wants me to +will. + +It makes no difference that, from a material and explicit point of view, +a system of positive law does not coincide throughout with the sphere of +my activity, and that therefore the major part of the standards of my +conduct must be determined by the inner dictates of my particular +conscience. For it is the Will of the State that determines the limits +between the moral and the juridical, between what is imposed by the law +of the land and what is demanded by the ethical conscience of the +individual. And there is no limit which pre-exists to the line by which +the constituent and legislative power of the State delimits the sphere +subject to its sanctions. So that positively or negatively, either by +command or by permission, our whole conduct is subject to that will by +which the State establishes its reality. + +But the Will of the State does not manifest itself solely by the +enactments of positive legislation. It opens to private initiative such +courses of action as may presumably be carried on satisfactorily without +the impulse and the direct control of the sovereign power. But this +concession has a temporary character, and the State is ever ready to +intervene as soon as the private management ceases to be effective. So +that even in the exercise of what seems the untrammelled will of the +individual we discern the power of the State; and the individual is free +to will something only because the sovereign power wants him to. So +that in reality this apparently autonomous particular will is the will +of the state not expressed in terms of positive legislation, there being +no need of such an expression. But since the essence of law is not in +the expression of it, but in the will which dictates it, or observes it, +or enforces the observance of it, in the will, in short, that wills it, +it follows that the law exists even though unwritten. + +In the way of conclusion, then, it may be said that I, as a citizen, +have indeed a will of my own; but that upon further investigation my +will is found to coincide exactly with the will of the State, and I want +anything only in so far as the State wants me to want it. + +Could it possibly be otherwise? Such an hypothesis overwhelms me at the +very thought of it. For it would come to this,--that I exist and my +state does not:--the state in which I was born, which sustained and +protected me before I saw the light of day, which formed and guaranteed +to me this communion of life; the state in which I have always lived, +which has constituted this spiritual substance, this world in which I +support myself, and which I trust will never fail me even though it does +change constantly. I could, it is true, ignore this close bond by which +I am tied and united to that great will which is the will of my country. +I might balk and refuse to obey its laws. But acting thus, I would be +indulging in what I have called velleities. My personality, unable to +transform the will of the state, would be overcome and suppressed by +it. + +Let us however assume for a moment that I might in the innermost depths +of my being segregate myself. Averse to the common will and to the law +of the land, I decide to proclaim over the boundless expanse of my +thought the proud independence of my ego, as a lone, inaccessible summit +rising out of the solitude. Up to a certain point this hypothesis is +verified constantly by the manner in which my personality freely becomes +actual. But even then I do not act as a particular being: it is the +universal power that acts through my personal will. + +For when we effectively observe the law, with true moral adhesion and +in thorough sincerity, the law becomes part of ourselves, and our +actions are the direct results of our convictions,--of the necessity of +our convictions. For every time we act, inwardly we see that such must +be our course; we must have a clear intuition of this necessity. The +Saint who has no will but the will of God intuitively sees necessity in +his norm. So does the sinner in his own way: but his norm is erroneous +and therefore destined to fail. Every criminal in transgressing the +law obeys a precept of his own making which is in opposition to the +enactments of the state. And in so doing he creates almost a state +of his own, different from the one which historically exists and must +exist because of certain good reasons, the excellence of which the +criminal himself will subsequently realise. From the unfortunate point +of view which he has taken, the transgressor is justified in acting as +he does, and to such an extent that no one in his position, as he +thinks, could possibly take exception to it. His will is also +universal; if he were allowed to, if it were possible for him, he +would establish new laws in place of the old ones: he would set up +another state over the ruins of the one which he undermines. And what +else does the tyrant when he destroys the freedom of the land and +substitutes a new state for the crushed Commonwealth? In the same +manner the rebel does away with the despot, starts a revolution and +establishes liberty if he is successful; if not, he is overcome and must +again conform his will to the will of that state which he has not been +able to overthrow. So then, I exercise my true volition whenever the +will of my state acts in my personal will, or rather when my will is +the realisation of the will of a super-national group in which my state +co-exists with other states, acting upon them, and being re-acted upon +in reciprocal determinations. Or perhaps better still, when the +entire world wills in me. For my will, I shall say it once again, is +not individual but universal, and in the political community by which +individuals are united into a higher individuality, historically +distinct from other similar ones, we must see a form of universality. + +For this reason, then, we are justified in saying that our personality +is particular when we consider it abstractly, but that concretely it +realises itself as a universal and therefore also as a national +personality. This conception is of fundamental importance for those of +us who live in the class-room and have made of teaching our life's +occupation, our ultimate end, and the real purpose of our existence. For +in this conception of human activities we find the solution of a problem +that has been present in the minds of thinking men ever since they began +to reflect on the subject of education, or, in other words, from time +immemorial. Education, we must remember, is not a fact, if by fact we +mean, as we should, something that has happened, or is wont to happen, +or must inevitably take place in virtue of the constancy of the law +which governs it. We teachers are all sincerely convinced that +education, as we speak of it, as it draws our interests, for which we +work, and which we strive to improve, is not now what it was before. For +there is no education that works out in conformity with natural laws. It +is a free act of ours, the vocation of our souls, our duty as men. By it +more nobly than by any other action man is enabled to actualise his +superior nature. Animals do not educate: even though they do raise their +young ones they yet form no family, no ethical organism with members +differentiated and reciprocally correlated. But we freely, by an act of +our conscience, recognise our children, as we do our parents and our +brothers; and we discern our fellow-beings in ourselves and ourselves in +others; and by the growth of our own we unconsciously develop the +personality of others; and therefore in the family, in the city, in any +community, we constitute one spirit, with common needs that are +satisfied by the operations of individual activity which is a social +activity. + +Man has been called a political or a social animal. He might therefore +be considered also as an educating animal. For we do not merely educate +the young ones, our young ones. Education being spiritual action bearing +on the spirit, we really educate all those that are in any way and by +any relations whatsoever connected with us, whether or not they belong +to our family or to our school, as long as they concur with us in +constituting a complete social entity. And we not only train those of +minor age, who are as yet under tutelage, and still frequent the schools +and are busily intent upon developing and improving their skill, their +character, their culture. We also educate the adults, the grown-up men +and women, the aged; for there is no man alive who does not daily add to +his intellectual equipment, who does not derive some advantage from his +human associations, who could not appropriately repeat the statement of +the Roman emperor--_nulla dies sine linea_. Man always educates. + +But here, as in every other manifestation of his spiritual activity, man +does not behave in sole conformity with instinct; he does not teach by +abandoning himself, so to speak, to the force of natural determinism. He +is fully aware of his own doings. He keeps his eyes open on his own +function, so that he may attain the end by the shortest course, that he +may without wasting his energies derive from them the best possible +results. For man reflects. + +It is evident then that education is not a scheme which permits +pedagogues and pedants to interfere with their theories and lucubrations +in this sacred task of love, which binds the parents to the children, +brings old and young together, and keeps mankind united in its never +ceasing ascent. Before the word came into being, the thing, as is +usually the case, already existed. Before there was a science and an +incumbent for the chair, there existed something that was the life of +this science and therefore the justification of the chair. There was the +intent reflectiveness of man, who in compliance with the divine saying, +"Know thyself," was becoming conscious of his own work, and therefore, +unwilling to abandon his actions to external impulses, began to question +everything. What the lower animal does naturally and unerringly through +its infallible instinct, man achieves by the restless scrutiny of his +mind. Ever thoughtful, always yearning for the better, he searches and +explores, often stumbling in error, but ever rising out of it to a +higher station of learning and of art. Our education is human, because +it is an action and not a fact; because it is a problem that we always +solve and have to keep solving for ever. + +This intuitive truth is demonstrated experimentally to us by the very +lives we live as educators. As long as the freshness of our vocation +lasts, as long as we can remain free from mechanical routine and from +the impositions of fixed habits; as long as we are able to consider +every new pupil with renewed interest, discover in him a different soul, +unlike that of any other that we have previously come in contact with, +and differing within itself from day to day; as long as it is still +possible for us to enter the class-room thrilled and throbbing in the +anticipation of new truths to reveal, of novel experiments to perform, +of unexpected difficulties to overcome, in the full consciousness of the +rapid motion of a life ever renewed in us and around us by the incoming +generations, that flow to us and ebb away unceasingly towards life and +death; so long shall we really live and love the teacher's life, so long +shall we demonstrate to ourselves and to others the truth I have already +affirmed. + +We teachers should be constantly on our guard against the dangers of +routine, against the belief that we have but to repeat the same old +story in the same class-room, to the same kind of distant, blank faces, +staring at us in dreary uniformity from the same benches. We shall +continue to be educators only as long as we are able to feel that every +instant of our life's work is a new instant, and that education +therefore is a problem that insistently stimulates our ingenuity to an +ever renewed solution. + +Now the most important of all tasks, ancient and modern, in the field of +education is this,--the task of the teacher to represent the Universal +to his pupils, the Universal, of course, as historically determined. +Scientific thought, customs, laws, religious beliefs are brought before +the pupil's mind, not as the science, the laws, the religion of the +teacher, but as those of humanity, of his country, of his period. And +the pupil is the particular individual who, having entered upon the +process of education, and being submitted, so to speak, to the yoke of +the school, ceases to enjoy his former liberty in the pursuit of a +spiritual endowment and in the formation of his character, and, in +consequence of this educational pressure, bends compliantly before the +common law. Hence the world-old opposition to the coercive power of the +school, and the outcry raised from time to time against the privilege +demanded by the educator, who on the strength of the assumedly higher +quality of his beliefs, his learning, his taste, or his moral +conscience, claims to interfere with the spontaneous development of a +personality in quest of itself. + +On one side education undoubtedly assumes the task of developing +freedom, for the aim of education is to produce men; and man is worthy +of this name only when he is a master of himself, capable of initiating +his own acts, responsible for his deeds, able to discern and assimilate +the ideas which he accepts and professes, affirms and propagates, so +that whatever he says, thinks, or does, really comes from him. Our +children are said to be properly raised when they give evidence of being +able to take care of themselves without the help of our guidance and +advice. And we trust that we have accomplished our task as educators +when our pupils have made our language their own and are able to tell us +new things originally thought out by them. Freedom then must be the +result of education. + +But on the other hand, teaching implies an action exercised on another +mind, and education cannot therefore result in the relinquishment and +abandonment of the pupil. The educator must awaken interests that +without him would for ever lie dormant. He must direct the learner +towards an end which he would be unable to estimate properly if left +alone, and must help him to overcome the otherwise unsurmountable +obstacles that beset his progress. He must, in short, transfuse into the +pupil something of himself, and out of his own spiritual substance +create elements of the pupil's character, mind, and will. But the acts +which the pupil performs in consequence of his training will, in a +certain measure, be those of his teacher; and education will therefore +have proved destructive of that very liberty with which the pupil was +originally endowed. Is it not true that people constantly attribute to +early family influences and to environment--that is, to education--the +good and the bad in the deeds of the mature man? + +This is the form in which the problem usually presents itself. The mind +of the educator is therefore torn by two conflicting forces: the desire +zealously to watch and control the pupil's growth and direct his +evolution along the course that seems quickest and surest for his +complete development; and, on the other hand, the fear that he may kill +fertile seeds, stifle with presumptuous interference the spontaneous +life of the spirit in its personal impulses, and clothe the individual +with a garment that is not adapted for him,--crush him under the weight +of a leaden cape. + +The solution of this problem must be sought in the concrete conception +of individual personality; and this will be the theme of the next +chapter. But I must at the very outset utter an emphatic word of +warning. My solution does not remove all difficulties; it cannot be used +as a key to open all doors. For as I have repeatedly stated, the value +of education consists in the persistence of the problems, ever solved +and yet ever clamouring for a new solution, so that we may never feel +released from the obligation of thinking. + +My solution must be simply accepted as affording a guidance by which +different people may, along more or less converging lines, approach +their particular objectives. For the problem presents itself under +ever-changing forms, and demands a continuous development, and almost a +progressive interpretation of the concept which I am going to offer as +an aid to its solution. No effort of thinking, once completed, will ever +exonerate us from thinking, from thinking unceasingly, from thinking +more and more intensively. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE FUNDAMENTAL ANTIMONY OF EDUCATION + + +A more precise determination must now be given to the problem, touched +upon in the preceding chapter, which might be called the _fundamental +antinomy of education_, understanding by "antinomy" the conflict of two +contradictory affirmations, either one of which appears to be true and +irrefutable. + +The two contradictory affirmations are (1) that man as the object of +education is and must be free, and (2) that education denies man's +freedom. They might perhaps be better re-stated in this way: (1) +Education presupposes freedom in man and strives to increase it. (2) +Education treats man by ignoring the freedom he may originally be +endowed with, and acts in such a way as to strip him entirely of it. + +Each of the two propositions must be taken, not as an approximate +affirmation, but as an exact enunciation of an irrefutable truth. +Therefore freedom here means full and absolute liberty; and when we +speak of the negation of freedom, we mean that education as such, and as +far as it is carried, destroys the freedom of the pupil. + +Let us first see precisely what is meant by this _freedom_ which we +attribute to man. Each one of us firmly even though obscurely possesses +some conception of it. Every one of us, even though unfamiliar with the +controversies that have raged for centuries on the question of free +will, must have sometimes been compelled by the conditions of human life +to face the difficulties that beset the concept of man's freedom, and +must have been led to question, if not to deny outright, the proposition +that man is free. But on the other hand, every one of us has to admit +that the experience of life has confirmed the belief in our freedom +which for a moment had been shaken by doubt and perplexity; and that +faith, instinctive and incoercible, outlives every time the onslaughts +of negation. + +By liberty we mean that power peculiar to man by which he moulds himself +into his actual being and originates the series of facts in which every +one of his actions becomes manifest. In nature, all facts, or, as they +are called, all phenomena appear to us to be so interrelated as to +constitute a universal system in which no phenomenon can ever be +considered as absolutely beginning, but can in each case be traced back +to a preceding phenomenon as its cause, or at any rate as the condition +of its intelligibility. The condensation of the aqueous vapour in the +cloud produces rain; but vapour would not condense without the action +of temperature, nor again would temperature be lowered without the +concurrence of certain meteorological facts which modify it, etc. + +But we believe on the other hand that man derives from no one but +himself the principles and the causes of his actions. So that whenever +we see in his conduct the necessary effects of causes that have acted on +his character or momentarily on his will, we cease to consider such acts +as partaking of that moral value through which man's conduct is really +human and completely sundered from the instinctive impulses of the lower +animal, and even more so from the behaviour of the forces of inanimate +matter. + +We may in certain moments deny a man's humanity, and see in his conduct +only brutal impulse, fierce cruelty, and unreasoning bestiality. In such +moments we cannot stop either to praise or to blame him. We do not even +strive to reason with him, for we feel that arguments would produce no +impression on his obdurate consciousness. Only through force can we +defend ourselves from his violence; against him we must use the same +weapon that we rely upon in our struggle with the wild beasts and the +blind forces of nature. We then become aware that our soul refuses to +recognise such an individual as a man. We esteem man to be such only +when we believe that we can influence him by words, by arguments that +are directed to reason, which is the birthright of man, and when we are +able to prevail upon those sentiments of his which, as peculiarly human, +appear to be almost the foundation and the understructure of rational +activity. This reason and these sentiments it must be remembered are the +peculiar constituents of human personality. They cannot be imparted to +man from the outside. They are in him from the very start even if only +as germs which he must himself cultivate, and which will, when +developed, enable him to act consciously, that is, with full knowledge +of his acts. This knowledge is twofold, for he knows what he is doing, +and he knows also how his actions must be judged. And so all the causes +that bear on him are practically of no weight in determining a course +which he will take, if he is a man, only after the approval of his own +judgment. What is more natural than to avenge an insult, and to harbour +hatred against an enemy? And yet from the viewpoint of morals, man is +worthy of this name only in so far as he is able to resist his +overpowering passions and to release himself from that force which +compels him to offset harm with more harm, and meet hatred with hatred. +He must pardon; he must love the enemy who harms him. Only when a man is +capable of understanding the beauty of this pardon and of such love, +only when, attracted by their beauty, he acts no longer in compliance +with the force of instinctive nature, does he cease to count as a purely +natural being, and lift himself to a higher level into that moral world +where he must progressively exhibit his human activities. Whether man is +equal to this task or not, we must demand that he satisfy this +requirement before we admit him into the society of mankind. He must +have in himself the strength to withstand the pressure of external +forces which may act on his will, on his personality, on that inner +centre from which his personality moves towards us, speaks to us, and +thus affirms its existence. We make these demands on him; and as we +extol him when by his deeds he shows sufficient capacity for his human +rôle, so we also blame him every time we find him through weakness +yielding to these forces. And the import of our blame is that he is +responsible for not having the power which he should have had. + +It is of no importance that out of compassion, or through sympathy +for human frailty, we lighten or even entirely remove the burden of our +censure. Our disapproval of the deficiency, even though unexpressed, +remains within us side by side with the conviction that the delinquent +may do a great deal, nay, must, aided by us in the future, do +everything in his power to meet successfully the opposing forces of +evil. We surely cannot abandon the unfortunate wretch who through +moral impotence--whether it be the craven submissiveness of the +coward, or the undaunted violence of the overbearing brute--commits an +evil deed. We feel it our duty to watch over him and help him on +the road to redemption, because of our firm conviction that he will +eventually redeem himself; for he is after all a man like the rest of +us, and possesses therefore within himself the source and principle +of a life which will raise him from the slough in which he lies +immersed. + +There is, however, a pseudo-science which, on the basis of superficial +and inaccurate observations, dogmatically asserts that certain forms of +criminality give evidence of original and irremediable moral depravity; +and that therefore persons tainted with it are fatally condemned never +to heed sufficiently the voice of duty and ever to yield to their +perverted instinct, which presses unrestrained from the depths of their +being at the slightest provocation and on the occasion of the most +insignificant clash with other human beings. + +This is the doctrine of the modern school of criminal anthropology which +has spread throughout the world the fame of some Italian writers. Though +their influence is now on the wane, their observations on the +pathological nature of criminal acts have contributed to establish the +need of a more humane treatment of offenders,--more humane because +rational and effective. + +Their doctrine falls in with a series of systems which at all times, and +always for materialistic motives,--materialistic even though disguised +under religious and theological robes,--have denied to man that power +which we call liberty, compelling him therefore to bend down under the +stress of universal determinism, and to behave as the drop that forever +moves with the motion of the boundless ocean, an insignificant particle +of the entire watery mass. What force intrinsic to this drop could ever +stop it on the crest of the wave which hurls it forward? Man, they say, +is no different from this drop: from the time of his birth to the +instant of his death, hemmed in by all the beings of nature, acted upon +by innumerable concurrent causes, he is pushed and dragged at every +moment by the irresistible current of all the forces of the entire mass +of the universe. At times he may delude himself into believing that he +has lifted his consciousness out of the huge flood, that it is within +his power to resist, to stop it as far as he is concerned, and to +control it; that, in short, it rests with him to fashion his own +destiny. But alas! this very belief, this illusion is the determined +result of the forces acting upon him: it is the inevitable effect of the +play of his representations,--representations which have not their +origin in him, but have been impressed upon him by outside forces. So +that the illusion of independence is but a mocking confirmation of the +impossibility of escaping the rush of fatal currents. + +I shall not here give a critical presentation of the arguments by which +systems such as these have established the absence of freedom in man. +In our present need, a single remark will suffice, and will permit us, +I believe, to cut the discussion short. A great German philosopher, +who had conceived science and reality, which is the object of +science, in such a way as to preclude the possibility of finding in +reality a place for man's freedom, noticed that freedom, in spite of all +the difficulties which science encounters in accounting for it, +corresponds and answers to an invincible certitude in our soul, +invincible because a postulate of our moral conscience. That is to +say, that whatever our scientific theories and ideas, we have a +conscience which imposes a law upon us,--a law which, though not +promulgated and sustained by any external force, or rather because of +it, compels us in a manner which is absolute. This law is the moral +law. It requires no speculative demonstration. The scrutiny of +philosophers might not be helpful to it. It rises spontaneously and +naturally from the intimate recesses of our spirit; and it demands from +our will, from the will of the most uncouth man, an unconditional +respect. What sense would there be in the word duty, if man were able to +do only those things which his own nature, or worse still, nature in +general, compelled him to do? The existence of duty implies a power to +fulfil it. And the certitude of our moral obligations rests on the +conviction that we have within us the power to meet them. We can +answer the call of duty because we are free. + +This consideration, important as it is, cannot however be considered as +sufficient. For this moral conscience, this certitude with which the +moral conscience affirms the existence of an unavoidable duty, might +also be an illusion determined in us by natural causes. Nothing hinders +us from thinking thus, and surely there is no contradiction implied in +this explanation, which in fact because of its possibilities is offered +by the philosophers of materialism. + +But the need of liberty is not solely felt when we strive to conceive +our moral obligations; freedom is not only the ground for existence, the +_raison d'être_ of moral law, as Kant thought--for he is the philosopher +to whom I alluded above;--no! freedom is the condition of the entire +life of the spirit. And the materialist who, having destroyed liberty as +a condition of moral conduct, believes that he is still able to think, +that his intellectual activity can proceed undisturbed after his faith +in the objective value and in the reality of moral laws has been +abandoned, such a materialistic thinker is totally mistaken. For without +freedom, man not only is unable to speak of duty, but he cannot speak at +all,--not even of his materialistic views. This is the same as saying +that the negation of liberty is unthinkable. + +A brief reflection will make this clearer. We speak to others or to +ourselves in so far as we think, or say something or make affirmations. +Let us suppose that ideas be present to our minds (as people have +sometimes imagined) without our looking at them, without our noticing +them. Such ideas would have offered themselves in vain, in the same way +that many material objects remain unseen before us, because we do not +turn our gaze toward them. Every object of the mind, that is, every +thought, can only be thought because in addition to it we too are in the +mind: our mental activity is there, the ego of the thinking man, the +subject which is ready to affirm the object. And thought proper consists +in this affirmation of the object by the subject. Now, the subject, that +is, man, must be as free in the affirmation of his thought, by which he +thinks something, as he must be free in every one of his actions in +order that his action be truly his, and really human. In fact, we demand +of man that he give an account of his thoughts as well as of his deeds. +We evaluate not only what he does, but also what he thinks; we praise +him or we disapprove of him because of his sayings, that is, his +thoughts, and we call upon him to correct those thoughts which he should +not entertain. In this way we indicate our conviction that the thought +of each one of us is not simply a logical consequence of its premises, +not an effect determined by a psychic mechanism set in motion by the +universal mechanism of which our individual psyche is a part; we are +convinced that thought depends upon man, upon his capacity, upon his +personality, which is not controlled by any mechanical forces, nor +subject to premises which he may no longer modify once he has accepted +them. We are the masters of our thinking; and if the vigour of the human +personality is indeed shown by the steadfast constancy whereby in +practical life we pursue a hard and toilsome course toward an arduous +goal, it is revealed just as much by the quickness, the readiness, the +assiduousness, the lack of prejudice, the love which we manifest in our +search after truth. + +It has therefore been said that cognition in man has moral value, and +that on the other hand the will is operative in the act of the +intellect. Such distinctions are dangerous. But whether we call it will +or intellect, the activity which makes us what we are, by which we +actualise our personality, also by thinking, it is certain that it is a +conscious and discriminating activity, through no force of gravity +precipitating on its object, but approaching it with selective freedom +of determination. And in the manner that every action aims at the good, +because it seems good, and appears in contrast with evil, so every +cognition is the affirmation of what to us is or seems to be a truth in +opposition to error and falseness. Without the antithesis of good to +evil there would be no moral action: without the antithesis of the true +to the false there would be no cognition. But the existence of this +antithesis implies a choice and therefore the liberty of choosing. + +Should we deny freedom, and consequently abandon man to the determinism +of the causes acting upon him, we should deny the possibility of +distinguishing between good and evil, between true and false. The +materialist, therefore, when he rejects freedom, is compelled to affirm +that the value which moral conscience attributes to goodness is devoid +of any real grounds, and what is worse, that his very statement is +thereby stripped of all the value of truth. For he must be inwardly +convinced that what he thinks has no reason to be thought and therefore +cannot be thought. + +The negation of freedom leads to this _absurdum_, to this impossible +thought, which is the Thought that is being thought as such, and yet +does not admit of being thought. Man, in so far as he thinks, affirms +his faith in freedom, and every attempt on his part to uproot this faith +from his soul is but a glaring confirmation of its existence. This +observation, properly grasped, is sufficient to establish human freedom +on a solid ground. + +Freedom, moreover, which man needs in order to be human, cannot be, as +some have supposed, a relative liberty, limited and restricted by +certain conditions, for conditional liberty does not differ from +slavery. Here indeed is the very crux of the problem. Every one would +readily admit the existence of a limited freedom, and the divergence +would then be reduced to a question of degree. But the fact is that +freedom must be absolute or not be at all. Matter, that is, every +material object, is not free for the very reason that it is limited; +whereas the spirit--every spiritual act--is free because it is infinite, +and as such not relative to any thing, and therefore absolute. + +Any limitation of the spirit would annihilate its liberty. The slave is +such because his will is constrained within the bounds imposed upon it +by the master's volition. The human spirit is not free in the presence +of nature because nature envelops it and enfolds it within narrow +confines, which allow only a certain development; and this development +therefore cannot be looked upon as a grant of nature but rather as a +condemnation, in that it marks out boundaries which cannot be +trespassed. The lower animal is not free because even if its actions +seem to imply a rationality not very different from that of man, yet in +reality its acts, differently from the doings of man, follow the +straight line pre-established by instinct, which admits of no original +power and allows no individual creation. If there is a limit, there must +be something limiting and something limited; there must be a necessary +relationship of one to the other, so that the thing limited can in no +way free itself from the consequences of this relationship. These +consequences are summed up in the impossibility of _being all_, or in +other words in the necessity of remaining within limits, and to obey +therefore the untransgressable laws set by one's own nature. This +necessity which binds every natural being to the laws of its own nature, +this impossibility of being aught else than what is appointed by nature, +to be a wolf of necessity, and of necessity to be a lamb; this is the +hard lot of natural beings, this is the destiny from which man is +ransomed by the power of his freedom. + +The sculptor in the fervour of his inspiration, which proceeds from the +image that lives in his phantasy, searches eagerly for the marble with +which, as though from the very bosom of nature, he may call to life the +phantom of his mind. He fails in his search, and his chisel remains, +must need remain, inactive. The artist then in the utmost intensity of +his creation is baffled by an external impediment, by an obstacle of +nature which therefore seems to have the power of limiting his creative +power. But when we consider what the artist has created in the statue +itself, in this living image of marble, we find nothing that is +material. The artist has transfused into the stone an idea, a sentiment, +a soul, which we, under the influence of the ravishing power of artistic +beauty, are able to seize to the exclusion of all material attributes; +as though we no longer possessed eyes for the whiteness of the marble +and were deprived of the muscle which gives us the impression of its +physical weight. When we are able thus to spiritualise the statue--and +we do so every time we get to know it as a work of art--then all +limitations that might be imposed on the creative power of the artist +disappear. For we see no longer the artist's phantasy, and then his arm, +and then his hand, his chisel, the block which he is carving; all we see +is the phantasy soaring untrammelled in the infinite world of the +artist, with his arm, his hand, his marble, his universe which is +totally different from the universe in which the men live who quarry the +marble and move it and sell it. + +There is a point of view from which we see the spirit limited and +enslaved by the conditions in which its life is unfolded. But there is a +higher point of view to which we must ascend if we are bent on +discovering our freedom. If we say, as the psychologists do, this is a +soul and this is a body, here are sensations, there is motion, this is +thought within us and that is the world outside of us, then we are +obliged to consider the spirit as conditioned by physical happenings to +which in some manner our internal determinations correspond. It is not +possible to see without eyes and without the light that strikes them. It +is equally impossible not to see when we have eyes and are surrounded by +light, and according to the greater or lesser velocity of the luminous +waves, we shall of necessity discern now one colour and now another. And +the objects thus seen by us will determine our thoughts; and in turn our +volitions will depend upon these thoughts; and our characters will be +shaped accordingly, and we shall be this or that man in conformity with +the determination of circumstances. Man, according to this conception, +will be the result of time, of place, of environment, of everything +except of his own self. + +But there is a higher point of view than the one I have just described, +and to it we must rise, if we mean to understand our nature,--this +marvellous human nature which was first disclosed to our consciousness +at the advent of Christianity and in the course of time made more and +more manifest, until it now loudly proclaims in us our human dignity +exalted above the forces of nature, and is empowered by its cognitive +faculty to dominate these forces, which must bend to man's purposes +without ever blocking or obstructing his progress. Whosoever says: here +is a body and there is a soul--two things, one outside of the +other--such a man does not consider that these two things are two terms +distinguished and differentiated by thought in the bosom of thought, +that is to say, of the soul: of that soul which is truer than the other +for the obvious reason that the latter thinks and therefore reveals its +soul-nature by its own acts, whereas the former is the object of +thinking, is a thing thought, and may therefore be a fallacious entity, +an idolon, and a simple _ens rationis_, like so many other things that +are thought and are subsequently found to have no kind of subsistence. +In speaking of sensation and of motion which generates or somehow +conditions sensation, we lose sight of the fact that sensation is truly +enough a determination of consciousness, but in the same manner as the +motion which is encountered in consciousness when the latter, in +thinking, among other things thinks the displacement of objects in +space. + +For everything is within consciousness, and no way can be devised of +issuing forth from it. We say that the brain is external to +consciousness, and that the cranium encloses the brain, which in turn is +enveloped by space luminous and airy, space filled with beautiful plants +and beautiful animals; yet the fact remains that brain and skull and +everything else are the potential or actual object of our thinking +faculty, and cannot but remain therefore within that consciousness to +which for a moment we supposed them to be external. We may start +thinking, keeping in mind this indestructible substance of our thought; +and as we proceed from this centre in which we have placed ourselves as +subjects of thinking, and advance towards an ever-receding horizon, do +we ever come in sight of the point where we must pause and say: "Here my +thought ends; here something begins that is other than my thought"? +Thought halts only before mystery. But even then it thinks it as +mystery, and thinking it, transforms it, and then proceeds, and so never +really stops. + +Such being the true life of the spirit, rightly have we called it +universal. At every throb it soars through the infinite, without ever +encountering aught else than its own spiritual actualisations. In this +life, such as we see it from the interior when we do not fantastically +materialise it with our imaginations, the spirit is free because it is +infinite. + +Education then posits this liberty in the pupil, for it presupposes in +him a susceptibility of development,--educability, as we may call it. +The learner could not possibly be educable, that is, susceptible of +receiving instruction, unless he were able to think. But thinking, we +have already seen, signifies freedom. And not only is freedom +presupposed by the educator, but it is the very thing he is aiming at in +his work. As a result of his teaching, liberty must be developed in the +same manner that the capacity for thinking and all modes of spiritual +activity are developed. For the development of thought is a development +of reflection, a constant increase of control over our own ideas, over +the content of our consciousness, over our character, over our whole +being in relation to every other being. And this growth of power is what +we mean when we speak of the development of our freedom. It has been +said, in fact, that education consists in liberating the individual from +his instincts. Surely, education is the formation of man, and when we +say man we mean liberty. + +Here we stumble upon our antinomy. How are we to reconcile this +presupposition and this aim of the educator with his interference in the +personality of the pupil? This interposition surely signifies that the +disciple must not be left to himself and to his own resources; that he +has to clash with something or somebody that is not his own personality. +Education implies a dualism of terms, the teacher and the learner; and +it is this dualism which destroys the freedom, which sets a limit, and +therefore annihilates infinity in which freedom consists. The disciple +who encounters a stronger mastering will, an intellect equipped with a +multitude of ideas, with an experience which forestalls his own powers +of observation, and his innate zeal for investigation, sees in this more +potent personality either a barrier obstructing his progress towards a +goal which he spontaneously would attain; or else a goad which hurries +him along the way which he would have indeed chosen of his own accord, +but along which he would have liked to advance freely, calmly, joyously, +as our Vittorino da Feltre would have it, and without any unwelcome +compulsion. This pupil then would want to be left alone in order that he +might be free, as free as God when as yet the world was not and he +created it out of nothing by his joyous _fiat_, symbol of the loftiest +spiritual liberty. + +For these reasons we have come to believe that the most serious problem +of education is the agreement between the liberty of the pupil and the +authority of the teacher. Therefore great masters who meditated on the +subject of education, from Rousseau to Tolstoi, have exalted the rights +of liberty, but have fallen into the opposite extreme of denying the +duty to authority, and have pursued in their abstractions a vague and +unrealisable ideal of negative education. + +But we must not cling to negatives. It should be our purpose to +construct, not to destroy. The school, this glorious inheritance of +human experiences, this ever-glowing hearth where the human spirit +kindles and sublimates life as an object of constant criticism and of +undying love, may be transformed, but cannot be destroyed. Let the +school live, and let us cling to the teacher and maintain his authority, +which limits the spontaneity and the liberty of the pupil. For this +limitation is only apparent. + +Apparent, however, when we deal with true education. For the school has +for centuries been the victim of a grave injustice. People have been led +to consider the classroom as a place of confinement and of punishment, +and teachers have been cruelly lashed by the scourge of ridicule cracked +in the face of pedantry. Through this injustice, the school has been +burdened with faults that are not its own, and teachers, genuine +educators, have been confused with the pedantic drill-masters that are +the negation of intelligent education and of inspired ethical +discipline. In order to see whether education really limits the free +activity of the pupil, we must not consider abstractly any school, which +may not be after all a school. We must examine an institution at the +moment and in the act which realises its significance--when the +instructor teaches and the pupils are learning. Such a moment should at +least hypothetically be granted to exist. + +Let us take a concrete example and consider a teacher in the act of +giving lessons in Italian. Where is this something which I have called +the Italian language? In the grammar, perchance? Or in the dictionary? +Yes, partly. Provided grammar can invest its rules with the life of the +individual examples that together constitute the expressive power of the +living language; and provided the dictionary does not wither up all +words in the arid abstraction of alphabetical classification; does not +hang each of them by itself as limbs torn from the living body of the +speech in which they had so often resounded and to which they will be +joined again in the fulness of life and expressiveness; but does instead +incorporate, as every good dictionary should, complete phrases, living +utterances of great authors or perhaps of that nameless many-souled +writer that somewhat confusedly is called the people. + +But more than in the grammar and more than in the dictionary, the word +is and exists in the writers themselves. The teacher should there point +it out, as he guides his pupils through the authors who were able to +express most powerfully our common thoughts. To his students who are +striving to learn the language--that is the writers--he reads for +example the poems of Leopardi. The poet's word, his soul hovers over +the classroom, as the master reads. It penetrates into the minds of the +pupils, hushes every other sentiment, removes every other thought, and +throbs within them, stirs them, arouses them. It becomes one with the +soul of each pupil, which speaks to itself a language of its own, using, +truly enough, the words of Leopardi, but of a Leopardi who is peculiar +to each of the listeners. Under this spell, the pupil who hears the +poet's word echoing in the depths of his being, will he stop to reflect +that this word is the echo of an echo? That he is under the influence of +something repeated after a first utterance? Our own experience answers: +No! But if any of the audience become absent-minded, if they should lose +the rapt delight of poetical exaltation communicated to their soul by +the teacher's voice, and should say that the word they hear is not their +own but the master's, or rather, the poet's, then they would commit a +serious blunder. For the word they intently listen to in their soul is +their own, exclusively their own. Leopardi does not impart any poesy to +him who, through his love, his study, and the intensity of his feelings, +is unable to live his own poetry. And Leopardi (or the teacher who reads +him) is not materially external to the enraptured listener; he is his +own Leopardi, such as he has been able to create for himself. The +master, as St. Augustine long ago warned us, is within us. + +He is within us even if we see him in front of us, away from us seated +in his chair. For in so far as he is a real teacher, he is ever the +object of our consciousness, surrounded and uplifted in our spirit by +the reverence of our feelings and by our trustful affection. He is _our_ +teacher, he is our very soul. + +The dualism then is non-existent when we are educating. We do notice it +before, and we are thus brought to examine the antinomy; but the +difficulty is removed by the very act of education itself, by the first +word that comes to the pupils' ears from the lips of the teacher. The +dualism however cannot be resolved if the master's word fails to reach +the pupils' soul, but then under those circumstances there is no +education. But even in such cases, if the teacher is not sluggish, if he +displays a real spiritual power, the abiding existence of the barrier +between the two minds proves helpful to the spiritual growth of the +learner, who, because of his incoercible freedom, is impelled by the +insufficiency of the master to affirm his personality with increased +vigour. So that the school is a hearth of liberty, even in spite of the +intentions of the teacher. A school without freedom is a lifeless +institution. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +REALISM AND IDEALISM IN THE CONCEPT OF CULTURE + + +We found it necessary in the previous chapter to pass from the abstract +to the concrete in order to arrive at the truth. The universality of the +individual was made clear when for the empirical concept of the +individual, abstractly considered, we substituted the deeper and more +speculative one of the individual himself in the concreteness of his +relationships. In like manner, the fundamental antinomy of education was +resolved as soon as we replaced the abstract idea of the dualism of +teacher and pupil, by the idea of their intrinsic, profound, unseverable +unity as it gradually works out and is actualised in the process of +education. We were enabled therefore to conclude that the real teacher +is within the soul of the pupil, or, better still, the teacher is the +pupil himself in the dynamism of his development. So that, far from +limiting the autonomy of the disciple, the master, as the propulsive +element of the pupil's spontaneity, penetrates his personality, not to +suppress it, but to help its impulses and facilitate its infinite +development. + +The same method of resorting to the concrete now leads us to the +determination of a third essential element in the process of education. +We have spoken of the master, and we have spoken of the pupil,--of the +latter as becoming actual as universal personality, of the former as +becoming identical with this same personality. We must now take up the +connecting link between the two, that is, culture. By culture we mean +the content of education, the presupposed heirloom which in the course +of time must pass from the teacher to the pupil. This spiritual content, +in being apprehended, appears under different aspects: as erudition and +information; as formation of personal capacities and training of +spiritual activities; as art and science; as experience of life and as +concept and ideal of existence; as simple cognition and as a norm of +conduct. It includes everything that comes within the scope of teaching, +and from whose value education derives its peculiar worth. + +Culture, so defined, may be conceived of in two ways; and in as much as +their differences are highly significant in the sphere of education as +elsewhere, we must now somewhat carefully consider them. + +These two ways correspond to two opposite conceptions of reality, and as +such they pertain to philosophy. But men in general constantly have +recourse to them, and so it happens that people frequently indulge in +philosophic speculations without knowing it; and much philosophising +goes on outside of the schools of the specialists, who are few compared +to the great number of those who in their own way handle genuine +concepts of philosophy. + +Let us begin from the most obvious of these concepts, from the one which +is fundamental and original to the human mind. Our whole life, if we +consider the data of experience, seems to unfold itself on the +substratum of a natural world, which therefore, far from depending on +human life, represents the very condition of it. In order to live, to +act, to produce, or in any way to exercise an influence on the external +world, we must, first of all, be born. Our birth is the effect of a life +which is not our life, which step by step rises and grows and spreads +until it gathers all nature within itself. This nature existed before we +were born, it will continue to be after we are all dead. Men draw their +life from an organic and inorganic nature which had to exist in order +that they might come into being. When nature will cease to provide these +conditions, human life, according to this point of view, will come to an +end; but nature, transformed, chilled, darkened, dead, will yet continue +to be. + +On this living trunk of nature our own life is grafted; animals come +into existence, and among animals the human species. Each of us, as he +comes into the world, finds this nature, developed, abundant, +diversified in millions of forms, traversed by innumerable forces, +organised up to the most highly developed structures, man included. We +find this nature, and we begin to study it. We examine its parts one by +one, their complexity, and the difference of their functioning. For each +one of them has its peculiar way of being and of acting; it has its +"laws." The aggregate of these laws, mutually corresponding, and +integrating one another, constitutes the natural world--reality--as it +stands before us. With this external reality we strive to become +acquainted; and in order that we may live in it we either adapt +ourselves to it, or adapt its conditions to ourselves. In this reality +too we acquire the knowledge of the needs of our organism and of the +means by which they may be satisfied,--the ratio, so to speak, between +natural desires and controlled resources. + +We are also told that our organism is in constant change and hurries on +to its destination, to our death, which we abhor as passionately as we +cherish life, but which we accept because such is the law of human life, +fatal and inexorable; for reality is what it is, and we must adapt +ourselves to it. + +But if reality appears as constituted before us, as therefore +conditioning our existence, and as existing independently of us; if it +is indifferent to reality whether we be in it or not; if we are truly +extraneous to it, the conclusion must then be drawn that we, from the +outside, presume to know reality and to move about it without being this +reality itself or any part of it. For all reality is thought by us as a +connected whole, though indeed vaguely; in its totality it is regarded +as an object known to us, but existing in utter independence of this +knowledge of ours. Its whole process is therefore complete in objective +nature, which conditions our spiritual life, and this in turn can mirror +reality but can never be a part of it. + +This then is the primitive and fundamental concept that the human mind +forms of reality. In consequence of it man feels that he is enclosed +within himself: he knows he is producing the dreams and the fair images +of art; that he can construct inwardly abstract geometrical figures and +numbers; that he can generate ideas. But he also feels that between +these ideal creations of his own, and the solid, sound, real living +forms of nature, there is an abyss. He must, indeed, fall in with +nature, in the process of generating other living beings of flesh and +blood. He must avail himself of nature by first submitting to its +unfailing laws, if he intends to give body, that is, real existence, to +the ideal conceptions of his intelligence. On one side then we have +thought; on the opposite side reality,--that reality, Nature. + +This conception at a certain moment is transformed but not substantially +changed. As we begin to reflect, we notice that this nature, as known to +us, is not the real external nature, the nature which is unfolded in +time and space, which we see before our eyes, an object perceptible by +our bodily senses. We conclude then, that nature as known to us is an +_idea_; that Nature is one thing and the idea of nature another. And if +we think this perceptible nature and have faith in its reality and in +the reality of its determinations, this nature in which reality is made +to consist is the nature which is within our thought,--the idea of +nature; or in other words, thought considered as the content of our +mind. This thought is the aim of all the inquiries by which we strive to +become thoroughly acquainted with nature, and which we finally discover +or at least ought to discover when we succeed in attaining true +knowledge. We say that we know nature only when we are able to recognise +an idea in nature: that is, an idea in each of its elements, and a +system of ideas in the whole of nature. So that what we know is not +really nature as it presents itself to our senses, still less nature as +it is, before it has impressed our senses; but nature as disclosed to us +by thought, as it exists in thought--i.e., the idea. And this idea must +be real, otherwise nature, which has its truth in the idea, could not be +real. Not only is it real, it is that reality itself which a moment ago +we were led to think of as consisting in external perceptible nature. + +This reality makes the life of our thought possible, but it is not a +product of this life. It is a condition and a prerequisite of +thought, and as such it does not exist because we think it: but +rather we are able to think it because it exists. It is eternal +truth, at first unknown to man, then by him desired. In quest of it +he gradually lifts on all sides the veil which hides it from his eyes, +without however hoping that it will ever entirely disclose to him its +divine countenance. + +According to this transformed point of view, then, reality, which in the +first instance appeared to be natural, that is physical or material, has +now become ideal. But even thus it remains extraneous to thought, and +unconcerned with the presence or the absence of it; transcending the +entire life of the human spirit, and incessantly subject to the danger +of error. Whereas the idea as a complexus of all ideas that can be +thought (but have not been thought, or rather have not all been thought) +is the beacon of light that guides the way of man in the ocean of life; +it is Truth pure and perfect. + +This idea evidently must not be confused with the purely subjective +ideas which we spoke of above, and which as such are extraneous to +reality. This idea is reality itself idealised. It is to this idea, for +instance, that we all appeal when we affirm the existence of a justice +superior to that of which man is capable, of a justice in behalf of +which man is in duty bound to sacrifice his private interests, and even +his life. This idea we have in mind when we speak of a sacred and +inviolable right, whereas in daily practice there is perhaps no right +which is not more or less trampled upon. This idea is before us when we +consider truth in general: truth which is indeed real, even though it +may not be seen or felt, much more real than physical nature, for nature +comes to life and dies and constantly changes, while truth is +motionless, impassible, eternal. In its bosom then we must try to find +everything that we want to accept as not illusory. + +But in substituting the conception of an ideal reality for the +conception of a material one, reality as a whole continues to be +something contradistinguished from us, an object indeed of our thoughts, +but one which cannot be conceived as it is in itself except by +abstracting it from our own thought. + +We, then, who open our eager eyes in the endeavour to discover, to know, +to orient ourselves, to live in the midst of a known and familiar world; +we, thinking beings, and not simply things of nature, beings who as such +affirm our personality in the very act of saying _We_, we then are of +less account than the earthworms which crawl along until they die +unknown to the foot that crushes them. We are nothing because we do not +belong to reality; we deceive ourselves into believing that we are doing +something on our own account, but in truth we renounce every desire of +doing or creating something original, something we might really call +ours; and we abandon ourselves, we drift away confused with external +reality and submerged under the irresistible current of its laws. + +This conception of life, which I have given only in its barest outline, +is a very common one. For thousands of years it has persisted in the +philosophical field, the nourishment and the torment of the greatest +intellects of humanity. But humanity could not rest satisfied with a +world conceived in such a manner; with a world which, whether we call it +nature or idea, is at bottom always nature. For by nature we understand +not only that reality which is in space and time, but also every reality +which is not the product of our will, nor the result in general of that +spiritual activity, which in a manner peculiar to all human acts reveals +a diversity of values, extending from the sublimity of heroism and of +genius to the lowest depths of cowardice and to the gloom of sloth. Nor +can it be considered as the product or result of a process; for it is +immediate reality, original and immutable. In a world which is Nature, +man is an intruder, a stranger without rights, without even real +existence. As a being, he is destined to be suppressed; nay, he does not +even exist. And his life, with all his aspirations, his needs, his +claims, is but a fallacious illusion which will sooner or later +collapse. Man cannot help succumbing in a world where there is no place +for him. Therefore a more or less cloudy gust of pessimism lowers over +the consciousness that has stopped at this conception of reality. +Leopardi is the most eloquent expression of the intense misery to which +man is condemned in such circumstances, or to which rather he condemns +himself. He condemns himself because he has it in his power to conceive +reality otherwise. For let him ponder seriously and he will succeed in +convincing himself that the naturalistic conception of reality is +absurd. Philosophy has so demonstrated this truth, that he who now +strives eagerly to attain a moral point of view in harmony with +established principles can no longer repeat that note of pessimism, can +no longer assert that the world is nature, or that it is the eternal +idea from which nature is derived and by which it is made intelligible. +Such views are no longer tenable. + +The teacher who, because of his lofty mission, claims the right of +forming souls, of arousing those powerful moral energies which alone +empower man to live as a human being, may not, must not be ignorant of +the fact that the contention of naturalism, which makes of the world an +abstract reality, presupposed by the human spirit and therefore anterior +and indifferent to it, is a belief that has been superseded and +surpassed by modern thought. The teacher too can easily grasp this view, +for in gathering all the arguments by which, along different lines, the +new conception of reality has been attained, we find that the whole +matter reduces itself to a simple and very easy reflection. Very easy in +itself, though it may seem difficult to the greater part of us,--to the +superficial thinkers, to the absent-minded, to those who lack the +strength necessary to face the great responsibility imposed upon us by +the truth which is derived from this reflection. + +For naturalism reduces itself to the affirmation that we think nature, +but do not ourselves exist; nature alone exists. We do not exist and yet +we think, and we think of nature as existing. We do not exist and yet +nature exists, of whose existence we have no other testimony than our +thoughts. And if thought is a shadow, what will reality then be? The +"dream of a shadow," in the words of the Greek poet. Is it possible for +us to stop at this conclusion? Is it possible for an inexistent thing to +vouch for the existence of something which we know only from its +attestations? Such is the absurd position we are forced into when we +assume that Thought, in equipoise with reality, remains outside of it +and leaves it out of its own self. + +We give the name of realism to that manner of thinking which makes all +reality consist in an external existence, abstract and separate from +thought, and makes real knowledge consist in the conforming of our ideas +to external things. By idealism on the other hand we mean that higher +point of view from which we discover the impossibility of conceiving a +reality which is not the reality of thought itself. For it reality is +not the idea as a mere object of the mind, which therefore can exist +outside of the mind, and must exist there in order that the mind may +eventually have the means of thinking it. Reality is this very thought +itself by which we think all things, and which surely must be something +if by means of it we want somehow to affirm any reality whatsoever, and +must be a real activity if, in the act of thinking, it will not entangle +itself in the enchanted web of dreams, but will instead give us the life +of the real world. If it is not conceivable that such activity could +ever go forth from itself and penetrate the presumably existent world of +matter, then it means that it has no need of issuing from itself, in +order to come in contact with real existence; it means that the reality +which we call material and assume to be external to thought is in some +way illusory; and that the true reality is that which is being realised +by the activity of thought itself. For there is no way of thinking any +reality except by setting thought as the basis of it. + +This is the conception, or, if you will, the faith, not only of modern +philosophy, but of consciousness itself in general, of that +consciousness which was gradually formed and moulded under the influence +of the deeply moral sentiment of life fostered by Christianity. For it +was Christ that first opposed to nature and to the flesh a truer +reality,--not the world in which man is born, but that world to which he +must uplift himself: that world in which he has to live, not because it +is anterior to him, but because he must create it by his will: and this +world is the kingdom of the spirit. + +In accordance with this conception there is, properly speaking, no +reality: there is a spirit which creates reality, which therefore is +self-made and not the product of nature. The realist speaks of external +existence, of a world into which man is admitted and to which he must +adapt himself. But the idealist knows only what the spirit does, what +man acts. A nature, ever at work in the progress of the spirit, throbs +in the soul of man, who with his intellect and his will re-creates it by +its restless, unceasing motion. It is a world which is never created, +because the entire past flows and becomes actual in that form which is +peculiar to it and in which it exists, namely, the present,--history in +the incessant rhythm of its becoming, in the ever-living act of +self-production. + +On what side of the controversy should the teacher stand who means to +absorb into his soul the life of the school? Will he with the realists +believe in a reality which must be observed and verified? Or will he as +an idealist trust that the only world is the one which is to be +constructed by him; that in all this task he can rely only on the +creative activity of the spirit that moves within us, ever unsatisfied +with what is, incessantly aspiring for what does not yet exist, for what +must come to be as being the only thing which deserves to exist and to +fulfil life? + +There are then these two ways of conceiving culture, the realistic and +the idealistic. By the former we are led to imagine that man's spirit +is empty, and that no nourishment can come to it except from the outside +world, from those external elements which he can acquire because they +exist prior to the activity by which he assimilates them. The latter, +admitting only what is derived from the developing life of the spirit, +can conceive of culture solely as an immanent product of this very life, +and separable from it only by abstraction. + +It is evident that the ordinarily accepted view of educators to-day is +realistic rather than otherwise. The ideal and therefore the historical +origin of the school itself is intimately connected with the realistic +presupposition. For the school begins when man for the first time +becomes aware of the existence of a store of accumulated culture which +should be protected from dispersion. Grammar, for instance, exists +before the notion of teaching it arises. Men already possess a language +when they make up their minds to teach it to their children. Self-taught +and inventive genius, by new observation and discoveries, gives rise to +new disciplines; and men, discovering the value of such disciplines, +determine to institute a school where they may be cultivated and handed +down to the coming generations. In general then, first comes knowledge; +then the school as a depository of it. It may be granted that the +progress of learning is made possible or at least accentuated by +educational institutions; but the fact remains that the school is +founded on pre-existing knowledge. Science, arts, customs must exist +before they can be taught to others, and they do exist, but not in the +spirit of the one who is to acquire them, who must appropriate them as +they are in themselves. The _Iliad_ exists: Homer sang: the poems +attributed to him were collected into an epic from which we learn of the +beliefs, of the aspirations, and of the memories that were dear to the +ancient Greeks, and every cultivated person to-day must derive from them +his own spiritual substance. The teacher shows to his pupils how best to +read, how to understand that epic which is a treasure of the past +bequeathed not only to the modern Greeks but to humanity in general. For +we all profit from this inherited spiritual wealth in the same manner +that every man that comes into the world enjoys the light and the heat +of the sun which he surely did not kindle in heaven. + +The fact that culture, as the subject matter of education, exists before +the exercise of that spiritual activity which can be educated only +through its means, seems to the realist a condition without which the +school cannot arise. Only as culture develops and spreads does the +school grow and expand; and, in the progress of civilisation, as culture +becomes specialised, the school is correspondingly differentiated into +institutions of ever-growing specialisation. For the school can but +follow and reflect the advance of science, of letters, of art,--of +humanity in general in all it strives to perpetuate. + +All this evidently can be maintained only from the point of view of the +realist. For him the school is concerned not with those that already +know and therefore have no need of it, but for those who are still +ignorant. For them it is instituted; it ministers to their needs, and is +therefore adjusted in the direction in which it believes their spirit +should be oriented. In the school of physicians, there is not medicine +but the learning of it, for if the art of healing were already mastered +as it seems to be in the case of the professors, there would be no need +of a medical school. There is indeed the professor in the lecture room; +but he is there only for the learners, and his rôle has no meaning +except in relation to their needs. He is the possessor of science, and +as such he teaches and does not learn. The school then is not the +possession of culture, but the development of a spiritual life aspiring +to this possession; and this aspiration is possible because of the +existence of the teacher who has already mastered it, who possesses it, +not as his own property, but as social wealth entrusted to him for the +use of everybody. He himself is only an instrument of communication. +Culture antedates him; it does so even when he is the author of it. For +it is not possible for him to impart it to others until he has first +elaborated it himself, and not until the merits of his contributions +have been in part at least recognised by the world. + +The school to the realist presupposes the library. The teacher needs +books, plenty of books in order to increase his knowledge and thus +become better acquainted with that world through which he has to pilot +his pupils. In the books, then, in the long shelves, culture lives: in +the innumerable volumes that no one ever hopes to read; in the shelves +which contain a world of beautiful things, and so valuable that man, as +Horace says, should spend sleepless nights in order to acquire them, +should endure cold and heat, fatigue and sacrifice. For humanity, we are +told, lives in those volumes to which the teacher must somehow link +himself if he intends to advance properly, to live the life which our +forefathers have generously endowed for us, and to protect our spiritual +inheritance from dispersion. In this atmosphere he must live; he must +plunge in that spiritual sea which rolls limitless across the centuries. +The pupil looks out upon this ocean which allures every man who is born +to the life of culture. At first he clings to the shore, dreads the +water, and asks to be helped until he has at least become familiar with +the element. Who will encourage the beginner to leave the dry land and +plunge into the deep where he would meet sure destruction? He must first +be trained in some sheltered cove, where protected from the violence of +the tumultuous surf, from the might of the indivisible mass of the +ocean, he may gradually learn the ways of the deep. + +The student must accordingly begin with a definite book; he must be +saved from the haunting power of the library, which draws the youthful +mind towards every volume, towards every subject. In the multitude of +books, not all of them read, not all of them readable, thought founders, +sees nothing, thinks nothing, is unable to rest in any of the things +which he imagines exist in the vast library shelves. He must choose. Let +him select, say, Dante. He reads the _Divine Comedy_, the poem written +by that great Italian who has been dead these six centuries and now +rests at Ravenna, no longer mindful of his Francesca, of his magnanimous +Farinata, of his kindly master Brunetto, or of Beatrice. Dante created +his miraculous world, he breathed life into his characters, wrote the +last line of his last canto, smiled in rapture at the divine beauty of +his creation, now complete and perfect, and died. His manuscript was +copied thousands of times; and after the discovery of printing, millions +of copies were made. In one of these we now are able to find it, this +divine poem, just as it was written,--for we want it exactly as it +flowed from his pen without the change of a letter, without the omission +of a comma. And this volume is an example of what exists in a +library,--of the culture that teachers strive to find there, and thence +communicate to their pupils!--something that belongs to the world, +something which is a part of reality, which men therefore can grasp, if +they want to, just as they can get to know the stars and the plants, +and all things of nature. The _Divine Comedy_ can be realistically +conceived in respect to us who open the volume and prepare to read it, +for the reason that it already exists and arouses our desire. If we had +left it on the shelf where it was resting, it would have had exactly the +same existence. What we find in the volume, as we read of that land of +the dead which is much more living than all the living beings who +surround us in our daily life, would all of it have been in that book, +would have continued to be there, even if we had never opened it. + +But is it really so? If we reflect a while we shall see that this is not +the case. The book contains exactly what we find there, what we are +capable of finding there, nothing more, nothing less. Different persons +discover in it different things, but it is nevertheless obvious that for +each individual the book contains only what he finds in it; and in order +to be able to say that the book contains more than what a given reader +discovers in it, it is necessary that some other person should find that +something more; and that the text contains this additional beauty is +only true for him who discovered it and for those who seek it after +him. + +Dante waited for centuries for De Sanctis[1] to appear and to +disclose the meaning of Francesca's words. Therefore it has been +said that to understand Dante is a sign of greatness. Abstractly +considered, of course, the poet is what he is, but only in the +abstract. In the concrete, Dante is the author whom we admire and +appreciate proportionately to our power. For as we read the poem in +accordance with our training, and the development of our personality, +Dante is grafted on a trunk which did not exist before us, which, on +the contrary, is our very life; and before this life is realised, +evidently none of those things can be found there which actually come +into being in the process of its realisation. So that if we had not +read the book, far from its being true that everything we found in it +would still continue to be there, nothing would remain of what we find +in it, absolutely nothing. + +We have said nothing of "what _we_ find." But if we consider the matter +we shall see that what we find is everything; everything for me; +everything for everybody. Only that can come out of a book which the +reader with his soul and with his labours is capable of getting out of +it; and in consequence of these labours and in virtue of his soul he is +able to say that a certain book has a content. In fact, to return to our +example, the _Divine Comedy_ which we know, the only one which we can +know, the only one which exists, is the one which lives in our souls, +and which is a function of the criticism that interprets it, understands +it, and appreciates it. That _Divine Comedy_ therefore did not close +the circle of its life on the day when Dante wrote the last line of the +last canto; it continued to live, still continues to exist in the +history, in the life of the spirit. Its life never draws to a close. The +poem is never finished. + +This is true of the poem of Dante; it is true of everything which we +conceive of as inherited from our great predecessors, from those who +built up the patrimony of human culture. Culture then is not before us, +a treasure ready to be excavated from the depths of the earth, awaiting +to be revealed to us. Culture is what we ourselves are making; it is the +life of our spirit. + +Abstract culture, on the contrary, is merely as realistically conceived. +It slumbers in the libraries, in the sepulchres of those who lived, who +passed away and created it once for all. It belongs to the past, to the +things that have died. But the past, if we really mean to grasp it, if +we want to see it close by as something that is and not merely as an +abstraction, the past itself, becoming the present, made into that +actuality which we call living memory, is history,--history constructed +by us, meditated by us, re-created by us, in accordance with our +abilities;--and with our powers of evocation we awaken the past from its +slumber and breathe into it the life of the spiritual interests, of the +ideas, of the sentiments that are, after all, the living substance in +which the past really survives, in which it is real. In the same way the +only culture that can be bestowed upon the spirit, the only one that +admits of being concretely taught and learned, the only one that can be +sought, because it is the only one that really exists, is idealistic +culture. It is not in books, nor in the brains of others. It exists in +our own souls as it is gradually being formed there. It cannot therefore +be an antecedent to the activity of the spirit, since it consists in +this very activity. + +This must be the faith of all those who cannot bring themselves to +believe that they are strangers in this world, and that they have come +here to exercise a function which is not their own. For the world in +general, and the sphere of culture in particular, is not completed when +we arrive upon the scene. This is why human life has a value, why +education is a mission. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [1] Francesco de Sanctis, a great Italian critic, whose "History of + Italian Literature" is still unfortunately inaccessible in + English. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE SPIRITUALITY OF CULTURE + + +The idealistic conception of culture enables us to get an initial +understanding of the spirituality of the school. This spirituality is +surely felt by all those who live within the class-room; but it should +be understood in the most rigorous and absolute manner by those who wish +to have a deeper consciousness of the extreme delicacy of the tasks +performed and the words uttered by those who enter it with the sincere +heart and the pure soul of the teacher. + +The school is obviously not the hall which contains the teacher and the +pupils. These may have a hall, may even have the teacher, without yet +possessing the school, which consists in the communication of culture. +This culture, we have seen, is not really pre-existent to the act which +communicates it; it is not to be found in books, not to be looked for in +an ideal transcendent world, not to be demanded of the teacher. It is +only in the spirit of the person who is in the act of learning. It is +there in the manner in which it is possible for it to be there, not +comparable to any presumed form of pre-existing culture. The school +gains its existence entirely in the soul of the learner. + +Knowledge is not to be found beyond the bounds of the human spirit. I +insist on this conception because I am well aware that the minds of many +rebel against this conclusion, no matter how irrefutable its grounds may +be. For they ask: what then is the learning which we ascribe to the +master minds of humanity, now indeed dead but still active in their +works? They also ask how we are able to think and account for that +learning which we feel we are not originating, which we know we are +re-acquiring for ourselves after it has many times been in the domain of +others. + +Can we really consider as non-existent what we as yet do not know, may +perhaps never know, but which is none the less capable of being known? +When we are filled with reverence for the glory of men whose learning +surpasses our powers, are we the victims of an illusion? Are we +prevailed upon by ignorance and lack of reflection? And how then can we +justify the cult which every civilised man consecrates to the mighty +spirits--philosophers, poets, artists, and heroes--who added so much to +the moral fund of humanity? Was there not a Dante six centuries back, +who composed a lofty poem, which was admired by everybody, at a time +when we, who now read it and bring it to life in our souls, were still +so far removed from the entrance of this life? + +The answer to all these questions is very simple, so simple that we must +be careful lest we miss its significance. All this lore of the past +which we strive to preserve surely does exist; it does contain all the +names which are sacred to the memory of humankind. The _Divine Comedy_ +has been written and no longer awaits its Dante. But this lore of the +past, as we for brevity's sake call it, is nothing else than what _we +think_ as such. History, as it unfolds itself from century to century, +is never compressed within a past which because of its completeness +might be made to exist beyond the present and in opposition to it; but +it exists in a past which is in the present as a plant that grows or an +animal that lives, never adding anything new to the old, always +transforming the old into the new; at no time, therefore, having +anything but what is new, never being anything else but the new. In +history, thus comprehended, we to-day are but one person with the men +who thought before us, with the poets, the philosophers, the spiritual +creators of the past. With them we are a person that grows and develops, +ever acquiring, never losing; a single being that apprehends and recalls +and constantly makes all his past bear fruit in the present. Our +childhood has not completely passed away into nothing: it keeps +returning to the ever-busy phantasy that tenderly fondles it, cherishes +it, idealises it into poetry. If we consider this childhood as something +that once was, that existed in utter ignorance of this poetry that was +yet to be written, that could not then be written, surely this infancy +is quite dead; we should rather say that it never existed. But it does +live as the childhood which is a recollection, which arouses feelings, +and such feelings as are at a given moment the actual sentiment of the +adult. Once in the years long gone by a kindly word reached the depths +of my soul. We all have heard in the years long gone by some such kindly +words that in the mystery of our childish mind appeared as a revelation. +Such words as fall from the lips of a mother and inspired by her tender +affection have the secret power of appeasing us in a moment of rage, and +of making us feel the gentle sweetness of that goodness which is made of +love. We may since have forgotten that word, and the circumstances in +which it was uttered: but it is none the less true that on that day our +soul was modified and became endowed almost with a sixth sense. This +sense has enabled us subsequently to perceive so many things that are +beautiful in life, and it in turn grew stronger because of frequent use +and increasing exercise, until it finally became the most potent organ +of our moral personality. Here too our development has been a constant +acquiring with no losing: a preserving of the past by which it was +converted into the present, and therefore annulled as past pure and +simple. + +Such is the moral development of man, who believes himself an +individual, but is in truth humanity considered momentarily in one of +its fragments. Such is history: the unfolding of the spirit in its +universality. It is not therefore difficult to determine what is the +past culture in which we desire to graft our present one. It is our own +actual culture in so far as it is not the patrimony, not the spiritual +life of the isolated individual, of a particular being; but is instead +the life of the spirit in its universality, the development of the human +personality taken in its effective, historical concreteness. + +The past with its entire content is a projection of our actual +consciousness, i.e., of the present. But we must not give this +proposition a sceptical sense. As I have already pointed out, the +present neither in the particular individual nor in the universal +history of the spirit, is sundered from the past by that abyss which is +ordinarily seen from a materialistic point of view. The past is one and +the same thing with the present. The past _is_ the present in its inmost +substance; and the present is the past that has matured. The grain of +wheat which was buried in the furrow is now no longer to be found under +the glebe. It lives, multiplied in the ear of wheat. The seed as such +was decomposed and destroyed in the soil; it is there no more, it sprung +thence as a blade of grass, it grew, was transformed, still is, still +lasts, and will continue to endure in other forms. Where is it now? Why, +in whatever form it may now have assumed. It is the past in the present, +as the present. + +So then, what is Dante the poet who towers over the centuries, the +object of our admiration, the master of all who speak and use the +Italian language? He is the lordly poet of the fourteenth century, not +because he then lived his own individual life, but because he survives +to-day in us who think him, who appreciate him even when we are not +fully acquainted with him. In this sense he lives in us, as the seed +does in the ear of corn. + +I have just hinted at the possibility of appreciating something without +fully understanding it. I wanted to make clear how impossible it is to +separate, with a clean cut, knowledge from ignorance. It is far from +true that before taking up a certain science we know absolutely nothing +about it,--that the boy who goes to school for the first time is +completely devoid of all knowledge, or that he who is in quest of a book +which he has never read can in no way whatever speak about it. + +For fair renown begets love for the unseen person, as the poet reminds +us and as experience often teaches. Frequently we know of the existence +and the beauty of a woman whom we have never seen, but who is not +therefore completely unknown to us. So also many of us desired to go to +school long before we had seen the inside of a classroom. What is dearer +than the joy foretasted at the first imaginings of school? We look +forward to that new life upon which we are about to enter in the company +of our bigger brothers and of our older playmates. They have told us so +many things about it. From their accounts and from the fond memories of +our parents we already know the school before we approach it, and its +pleasing aspects invite us into the classroom. + +For the same reason we search for books we have never seen, and we are +drawn towards new studies and pursuits. There is no leaping from +ignorance to knowledge, as from pitch darkness to noon-tide brilliancy. +The transition is imperceptible, as when the dim morning twilight merges +into the first glimmerings of dawn, which in turn fade away under the +dazzling flashes of sunrise. And even from the midst of darkness we +yearn for a world which though unseen is somehow present to our +consciousness, already illumined by our thought, warmed by our +sentiments. Or, in other words, the culture which we do not yet possess, +and which we expect to get at school, is already implanted in our mind, +where it will sprout and grow and bear fruit, fused and confused with +the life of our spirit. + +Having now reached this point, can we define culture? I am inclined for +a moment to assume the rôle of Don Ferrante in Manzoni's novel.[2] By +pedantic ratiocinations he proved that the plague could not be a +contagious disease: "for," he said, "in nature everything is either a +substance or an accident." Contagion, he then went on to prove, could +neither be the one nor the other; therefore the plague was but an influx +of the stars, and there could be no use in taking precautions; and +having proved this, he fell a victim to the epidemic, and died cursing +the stars like an operatic hero. Let us follow for a moment in the +footsteps of this pedant, whose method, ridiculous as it may seem, has +had nevertheless a glorious history, and one which Manzoni himself +admired. + +I say: We can think only and we do think only two kinds of +reality,--person or thing. Every one of us is naturally drawn to this +distinction; and when we have formulated it, we feel more or less +vaguely, more or less clearly, that every possibility is comprised +within these two terms, that outside of them it is impossible to think +any reality whatsoever. The reason is this: if we think, if we act, if +we live, we inevitably place ourselves in a situation such that we on +one side are as centre, as beginning, or as subject of our activity; and +on the other side are the objects toward which our activity is directed +and by which it is terminated. _We_ therefore as subject of the entire +surrounding world; and _this world_ as the end of our thoughts and of +our scientific inquiries, end of our desires and of our practical +activity; the world which is represented in our consciousness, and which +we strive to dominate by our labours, and our reason. Can there be +anything else beside _us_ and what _we_ think? + +The world which we think and which we oppose to ourselves seems at first +to contain different kinds of objects. There seem to be both persons and +things; simple objects of cognition which we ordinarily call _things_ +which can never become subjects; and persons who at first are +represented to us as objects of our knowing, of our love, and of our +hatred, as ends of our activity; but who under a closer scrutiny are +transformed before our eyes into knowing and acting subjects, who, in +other words, become just exactly what we are. But when we really get to +know these beings that surround us as subjects on an equal basis, then +we cease to consider them as objects of our cognition, and as solely +endowed with that material objectivity which at first put them in the +same category with the inanimate things, with plants and animals. We +then find them close to us, very close: fused with our own spiritual +substance. We feel them to be our fellow men, our kinsmen, with whom we +constitute that person of whose existence I am aware every time I say +_We_: the person we must take into account whenever we wish to affirm +our personality in a concrete manner, the only person, the one subject, +the true subject of human knowledge and of human activity. The subject +which knows and acts as a universal in the interests of all men, or +rather in behalf of the _one man_ in whom all single individuals are +united and with whom they are all identified. + +Then if we give a rigorous and exact meaning to the expressions, "We and +what is before us," "We and the objects," "We and the World," we have a +correct classification of all thinkable reality differentiated into +persons and things, but with the understanding that all persons are in +reality one Person. + +One _person_, and things innumerable! As we look about us, we find the +horizon peopled with thousands and millions and infinite quantities of +objects, which may one by one attract our attention, and may be gathered +up in the vast, unbounded picture surveyed by the eye as it moves on +from thing to thing, incessantly, without ever reaching the last. The +world which we first discover is the world of matter, of things which +strike our senses. This world rushes impetuously into our mind at the +beginning of our natural experience. And these material objects are many +not only _de facto_ but also _de jure_. They must be, they cannot but be +many if we are to consider them as material things. It is their peculiar +nature, it is their very essence to be an indefinite multitude. + +A material thing means a thing occupying space. And space is made up of +elements, each one of which excludes all the others and is therefore +conceived independently of the others, must so be conceived. For it is +the very nature of space to be divisible. When it is narrowed down to a +point and cannot be further subdivided, then it ceases to be space. Its +divisibility signifies that space is nothing more than the sum of its +parts; that it contains nothing in addition to these parts; that it +therefore resolves itself into them without at all losing its being and +without any of the parts being deprived of anything which was theirs in +the whole. In fact, if anything were lost of the entire whole, this loss +could not but be felt in each single part. A book, considered as a +material thing, is composed of a certain number of printed leaves +stitched together; and if the leaves fall apart, they may be brought +together again so that they will compose the same book as before. An +iron rod weighs the same before and after it has been broken up into +parts. + +Things cease to be exclusively and solely material when, though they may +be divisible in a certain respect, they are nevertheless indivisible in +another respect. Plants, animals, all living organisms, considered +simply as objects occupying space and as therefore having certain +dimensions, admit surely of being separated into parts. Trees are cut +into logs, sawed into boards; animals are slaughtered and quartered. But +considered from the point of view of its peculiar quality, of the +essential property which distinguishes it from all other bodies, an +organism is not divisible. If we do divide it, each component part +ceases to be what it previously was when conjoined with the others. Such +a part cannot be preserved; it withers, it decays, and is dispersed, so +that the whole can never be reconstituted. The various parts of an +organism, considered as such, are inseparable, because each of them is +and maintains itself on the strength of its relations to the others, +forming with them a true and essential unity. If we however try to find +out what this unity is by which all the limbs are indissolubly held +together, we shall discover nothing which can be observed and +represented spatially, nothing endowed with dimensions, however small, +after the manner of the several limbs which this unity fuses within +itself and vivifies. + +If unity which is the life-giving principle of every organism could be +spatially represented, or in other words, if it were something material, +it would be one of those very limbs that have to be unified, and could +not then be the unifying principle itself. Hence the vanity of the +efforts on the part of materialistic physiologists who obstinately +strive to explain life by observing the parts which compose the organic +mass, by studying the concurrence of their processes, their chemical +relationships, and their mechanism. A material being, organically +constituted, is something more than a material thing pure and simple: it +announces already a higher principle; it presages the spirit. + +But the things that we all agree to regard as spiritual defy absolutely +every attempt at division. A poem may be considered in a certain way as +material, and may accordingly be divided into various parts,--stanzas, +lines, words. But it is clear that such a separation cannot have the +value which we assign to the divisions of things material. For in their +case every part can stand by itself, and is in no way deprived of its +characteristic being; whereas every part of a poem, stanza, verse, word, +calls out and responds to every other part; and if isolated from them, +loses the meaning which it had in the context; or rather it loses every +meaning, and consequently perishes. It is true that by conjectures we +interpret even very small fragments of ancient poems. But we do so only +in so far as we claim the possibility of restoring approximately the +entire poem in which the given fragment may live, by which it may be +restored to life. Likewise all the words lined up in dictionaries are as +so many bleeding limbs of living discourses, to which they must somehow +or other be ideally reconnected, if we are to understand what they +really were and what functions they had. Multiplicity of parts in things +of the spirit is only apparent: it must be reduced to indivisible unity, +from which every element of the multiplicity derives its origin, its +substance, and its life, so that we may give to it a real meaning and a +foundation. + +Nor is this the only unity possessed by the things that are assumed to +be spiritual. We have already considered the unity whereby, for example, +the words of a poem cannot be separated from the poem itself, in which +each of them acquires a particular accent, a particular expression, and +therefore a particular individuality. We shall now consider another +unity. He who really perceives a poem is not confronted by an observable +thing, compact if you will, unseverable and united, but none the less +independent of human personality. Poetry is only understood when in the +flowing unity of its verses and in the continuous rhythm of its words we +grasp a sentiment in its development, a soul's throb in a moment of its +life, a man, a personality. The poetry of Dante is very different from +that of Petrarch, because each is the expression of a powerfully +distinct personality. Any composition of these poets is understood and +enjoyed only when we feel in it the personal accent which distinguishes +one poetical personality from the other. A poet without individuality +has no significance whatsoever, and therefore no existence as a poet. +But the real artist leaves his imprint more or less markedly in all his +productions, so that in every given instance, over and beyond the +variety of the subject matter, we feel the living soul of the poet. A +poem then is the poet; it is a person and not a thing. And the same can +be said, as we can easily see, of all things that are commonly called +spiritual. + +But in addition to things material, it seems that there are immaterial +ones which do not pertain as one's own to any particular person. The +ideas of which we had occasion to speak before,--immaterial entities, +not perceptible by the senses, but thinkable by the intellect, and +which severally correspond to all sorts or species of the various +material things,--were once conceived as things by philosophers, and +they are still so conceived to-day by the majority of men. It is +not requisite that one actually think them; it is sufficient that they +be in themselves thinkable. As a matter of fact, they may or may not +be thought, no differently therefore from any of the material objects +which are not created by our senses, but must already exist in order +that our senses may perceive them. These ideas are many, in a manner +corresponding to the material objects; and they are all different. +They mirror, so to speak, the multiplicity of material things in +whose semblance and likeness they were devised. There are horses in +nature, and there is the idea of the horse by which we are able to +recognise all the animals that belong to that species. There are +dogs, and there is the dog which we rediscover in every one of them. +And there are flowers and the flower; and pinks, roses, and lilies, +as well as the pink, the rose, and the lily; and likewise iron, +copper, silver, gold, lime, water, and so on, to infinity. It is +impossible to set a limit to ideas, because it is not possible ever to +stop dividing, distinguishing, subdividing that nature which unfolds +itself throughout space. + +This boundless multitude of ideas, through which our mind can rove, +surely has no spatial extension. But because of the necessity of +conceiving any multitude as existing in some kind of space, it was +thought proper to posit an ideal space in addition to the physical one. +In other words, metaphorical dimensions were added to dimensions +properly so called. But whether spatially or not, we strive to conceive +ideas as many, each one of them existing by itself, and susceptible of +being thought independently of the others. In reality however we never +succeed in thinking them except as bound together and forming a system, +in such a way that no single one of them can be thought except by +thinking the others with it. Take man as an instance: each one of us has +intuitively the idea of man, but this idea is not possessed like a word +of which we may not even know the meaning. In thinking the idea we must +think something which is its content. If we know what man is, we must be +able to attribute a content to the idea of man. We may say, as the +ancients did, that man is the laughing animal, or the speaking animal, +because he is the only animal capable of expressing the emotions of his +soul by laughter or by the inflection of his voice; because, in other +words, he is the only animal who is conscious of what goes on within +him. Or perhaps we might say that man is the reasoning animal, and we +think this idea when we have thought the idea of _animal_ and the idea +of _reason_. But can the idea of animal be thought by itself alone? It, +as well as the idea of reason, must have a content; that is, each must +be connected with other ideas, without which it would be deprived of all +consistency. + +And so the mind that begins to think one single idea is compelled, +almost dragged, to pass on to another, then to a third, and so on +indefinitely. It finds itself in the condition of the man who tried to +grasp a single link of a chain, just one, and found that he could not +have it except on condition of taking the whole chain. So it is with +ideas. We may not be capable of encompassing all of them in one single +thought; but whenever we try to fix any one of them in our mind, it +presents itself to us as a knot in which many other ideas are +interlaced, twisted, and entangled. They form an infinite chain, in +which it is not possible to think the first link or the last one, +because the beginning is welded to the end, and we turn and turn and +never reach the last. Is not this the nature of the ideas as we see +them, as they constitute the field from which we must harvest all our +possible thoughts? + +Ideas are not, therefore, a true multiplicity, because they are not +things, either material or ideal, and because they do not occupy any +space whatsoever. Our imagination may present them to us as so many +lights of an ideal sky; but our intelligence warns us that they cannot +be separated one from the other and placed side by side. As I have +already said: when we think one, we think them all. Or in any event we +should, if we had mastered all that there is to be known. So that to our +thought ideas appear as constituting one unique whole, a unity, that +something which we call science, truth, knowledge. They are not a +multitude, for the simple reason that in multiplicity they would be +unthinkable. Their connection with and participation in an absolute +unity come from the fact that they are the object of thought, and are +therefore submitted to its activity, whereby they are ordered, +correlated, organised, unified. In order that we may say that one idea +contains another, or many others, we must analyse this first idea and +define it. This first idea must be distinguished from the others, and +they likewise among themselves. It is not therefore sufficient to say +that there are these ideas, motionless, inert, lifeless, as they +necessarily would be if they existed _per se_, as objects of mere +possible contemplation. There must also be some one to analyse them, +define them, and distinguish them. It is not enough to have the material +of thought, we need thought also to mould and fashion this material, +turn it effectively into thought stuff, reduce it to something +susceptible of being thought. Ideas as things would in no way be related +among themselves. But they do have that relationship which is generated +by thought as it thinks them. Thought generates this relationship not as +a fixed one, as would be the case if it were inherent in the things +themselves; but as a relationship which is being formed by degrees, and +which is continuously changing and developing. No ideal, abiding +science, existing only as the object of a vague phantasy, can therefore +result from this relationship. It constitutes instead a science which is +ever re-formed and is never formed; it gives to the ideas an ever +renewed aspect: it matures them, elaborates them, perfects them, by +concentrating on each one of them the constantly increasing light of the +system into which it closely binds them. + +Ideas, then, as we really think them, are not a minutely fractioned and +scattered multiplicity. Nor are they a mass of concurrent elements. They +are Thought as it becomes articulate, and gains distinctness by these +many Limbs, by these ideas, which exist, all of them, in the process by +which they are gradually formed, developed, and complicated, and arrayed +in an order which is constantly being renewed and which is never +definitely perfected. + +There are not then many ideas; there is one Idea, which is Thought. Only +in a metaphorical sense can we consider them as things; and, properly +speaking, they are the human person itself as actualised in thought, +which is busily occupied in the construction of knowledge. They are an +indivisible unity, in which each idea is found collaborating with every +other one so as to answer the questions which Thought constantly +propounds. They are the human person, not the persons; for we have +already concluded that only in an abstract sense is it possible to speak +of many persons; concretely there is but one universal Person which is +not multiplicable. + +There are not, then, going back to our original division, persons and +things, material and spiritual. At the most there is one person, Man, +and there are the material things which constitute this nature, as it +occupies space, and in which we too believe we have a place, in as much +as we consider ourselves beings of nature. Nothing beyond this can be +conceived: on one side a sole immultiplicable reality, on the other a +manifold reality, indefinitely divisible. + +Here we might perhaps stop considering the special interest that called +forth this inquiry. For no one could possibly suppose for a moment that +culture could be placed in the midst of material things rather than in +the spiritual reality which is a person. However, since the intimate +nature of this spiritual reality which we call culture is not yet +clearly revealed, we must continue our investigations, and give more +attention to this division which for a moment we thought might be final. +I mean the division of the world into persons and things: the equipoise +of spirit and matter. + +Do we really _think_ this matter as we say we do, and which we believe +we are justified in opposing to the spirit, in as much as the spirit is +unity or universality, and matter, in its entirety, in every one of its +parts, in everything, is an indefinite multiplicity? Matter can in truth +be thought only on condition that it be possible to think multiplicity, +that pure multiplicity which is the characteristic quality of matter. + +What then is the meaning of multiplicity? In absolute terms we call +multiple that which consists of elements each one of which is quite +independent of all the others, and absolutely devoid of any and every +relationship with them. The materialist conceived the world as an +aggregate of atoms, separated one from the other and having no +reciprocal relevance of any sort whatsoever. In the world of pure +quantity, which is the same as absolute multiplicity, mathematical +science claims the knowledge of units indifferent to their nexus, and +therefore susceptible of being united and separated, of being summed up +and divided, without any alteration taking place within the individual +unit itself. Numerical units are therefore pre-eminently irrelative. + +But the concept itself of the multiplicity of irrelative elements is an +absurd one. In order that we may conceive many unrelated elements we +must, to start with, be able to conceive a couple of such elements. Let +us take A and B, absolutely unrelated, and such that the concept of one +will contain nothing of the other's, and will therefore exclude it from +itself. If A did not so exclude B, something of B would be found in A, +and we could no longer speak of the two elements as irrelative. +Irrelativity means reciprocal exclusion, a capacity by which each term +is opposed to the other, and prevents the other from having anything in +common with it. Without this reciprocal action whereby each term turns +to the other and excludes it from itself, establishing itself as a +negation of it, there would be no irrelativity. But this action by which +each term is referred to the other so as to deny it, what is it but a +relationship? Every effort therefore tending to break up reality into +parts completely repugnant amongst themselves, mutually excluding one +another, and therefore reciprocally indifferent, results in the very +opposite of what was intended, viz.: the relative in place of the +irrelative, unity instead of multiplicity. + +Neither duality nor multiplicity is conceivable without that unity +whereby the two engender that whole in which the two units are +connected, even though they mutually exclude one another: without that +unity which fuses and unifies every multiplicity determined in a number, +which correlates among themselves the units which constitute the number. +We could strip multiplicity of all unity only by not thinking it. But +then in the gloom of what is not thought, multiplicity truly enough +would not be unity, but it would not even be multiplicity, because it +could not be anything at all. Or, if we prefer, it would be absolutely +unthinkable. + +Thought then establishes relationships among the units of the multiple, +and thus constitutes them as the units of the manifold, and as forming +multiplicity. It adds and divides, composes and decomposes, and +variously distributes, materialising and dematerialising, so to speak, +the reality which it thinks. For it materialises the reality when it +conceives it as manifold: but it can conceive it as such only by +unifying it, and therefore by dematerialising it and reabsorbing it into +its own spiritual substance. + +Matter is a manifold reality, without unity. What it is we already have +seen: a material reality, and as such divisible into parts, placed in +the world in the midst of a congeneric multitude. Now, since pure +multiplicity is not conceivable except on condition that we abstract +from that relationship to which the reciprocal exclusiveness of manifold +elements is reduced, it is evident that matter and things are abstract +entities. Thought stops to consider them, and regards them as existent, +only because it withdraws the attention from that part of itself which +it contributes to the making of the object represented. Thought +therefore prescinds from that unity which material things could not by +themselves contain, but from which it is impossible to prescind +absolutely unless we wish to be reduced to an absurd conception. + +Objective things then, the world of matter itself which we are wont to +oppose in equipoise to the person, are in truth not separable from it. +For matter has its foundation in thought by which the personality is +actualised. Things are what we in our own thought counterpose to +ourselves who think them. Outside of our thought they are absolutely +nothing. Their material hardness itself has to be lent to them by us, +for it ultimately is to be resolved into multiplicity, and multiplicity +implies spiritual unity. + +This then is the world: an infinity of things all of which have however +their root in us. Not in "us" as we are represented ordinarily in the +midst of things; not in the empirical and abstract "us" which feeds the +vanity of the empty-headed egoist, of him who has not the faintest +notion of what he really is, who can therefore think of himself only as +enclosed within the tight husk of his own flesh and of his particular +passions. No! they are rooted in that true "us" by which we think, and +agree in one same thought, while thinking all things, including +ourselves as opposed to things. And he who fails to reach this profound +source, this root from which all reality receives its vitalising sap, +may indeed get a blurred glimpse of a blind, inert, material mechanism, +but he cannot even fix and determine this mechanism. He cannot upon +further reflection stop at the conviction that it is in truth, as it +appears in semblance, something real, for it reveals itself to him as so +absurd as to become unthinkable. The world then is in us; it is our +world, and it lives in the spirit. It lives the very life of that person +which we strive to realise, sometimes satisfied with our work, but +oftener unsatisfied and restless. And there is the life of culture. + +It is not possible to conceive knowledge otherwise than as living +knowledge, and as the extolment of our own personality. This is our +conclusion. We shall, later on, derive from it two corollaries that are +very important for teachers, in as much as they bear directly on the +problems of education. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [2] _I Promessi Sposi_ ("The Betrothed"). + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ATTRIBUTES OF CULTURE + + +From the concept of the spirituality of culture, we derive all the +fundamental propositions of pedagogy. But in as much as this conception +of culture coincides with that of personality, or of the spirit, it is +evident that all the fundamental propositions of the philosophy of the +spirit are also derived from it. In fact, we separate pedagogy from the +philosophy of the spirit only because of didactic convenience. To +determine, then, the attributes of culture, by which education becomes +actual, we have but to consider the nature of the spirit and endeavour +to define its attributes. This way we must follow if we are ever to +acquire a thorough comprehension of the principles of the several +theories of education, principles which are but the laws immanent to the +life of education itself in its effective development. + +The assertion that "culture is the human spirit" means nothing unless we +first define this spirit and understand its attributes. We cannot +possess a concept which is not determined; and the determinations of a +concept are the constituent attributes of the reality which we strive to +conceive, and which is not thinkable if deprived of any of these +attributes. The following example, appropriate even though trite, will +make my meaning clearer. Physical bodies cannot be conceived without +also conceiving gravity. Gravity is then an attribute of the physical +body, and as such it determines the concept of it. In the same way, to +conceive the spirit is to embrace with thought the concepts which are +absolutely inseparable from the concept of the spirit. + +This inquiry into the nature of the attributes of culture, though it +constantly progresses towards a satisfactory solution, yet seems at +times to be losing ground on account of the ever-increasing difficulties +that beset its advance. It is true, no doubt, that human thought, driven +by the irresistible desire to know itself, has made some headway towards +mastering the concept of itself. Philosophy has indeed progressed, and +the modern world can proudly point to truths unsuspected by the thinkers +of antiquity. But the assiduous and prolonged toil of thought engaged in +this task has at all moments disclosed new difficulties; it has ever +been busy sketching new concepts which subsequently prove immature and +in need of further elaboration, and has been pushing its investigations +to such depths as to make it difficult to follow its lead without +sometimes going astray, without frequently stopping in utter weariness +at the roadside. + +Men talk learnedly nowadays of the human spirit, but with a doctrine +which is often insufficient or, as we say, not up to date. They have +stopped at one of those wayside concepts where thought no doubt passed +and temporarily halted, but from which it moved on towards a more +distant goal. For while this long history of the endeavours by which man +struggles onward towards the understanding of his own nature is the +basis on which modern philosophy builds its firm concept of the spirit, +yet for those who have not attained the vantage ground of this modern +philosophy, this history is unfortunately a very intricate maze; it is +the bewildering + + "selva selvaggia ed aspra e forte"[3] + +from which it is difficult ever to issue. And therefore it is much +easier, as Dante once remarked, to teach those who are completely +ignorant than those who have a smattering of philosophy. But to-day +culture is so intimately connected with philosophical speculation that +the greater part of educated men profess this or that system without +being aware of it. And when such men do take up the study of philosophy +_per se_, they no longer possess the mental ingenuousness, the +speculative candour, which would enable them to grasp the obvious, +evident, incontrovertible truth of the most profound philosophical +proposition. + +This inquiry then is difficult. It demands either a long, methodic, +laborious study of the history of philosophy conducted with critical +vigour, or that unyielding tenacity of the mind which is the surest sign +of sound spiritual character; that steadfast firmness by which man, once +in possession of a clearly irrefutable, truly fundamental truth, +rigorously excludes from his soul all the allurements of prejudice, all +convictions formerly entertained, even though extremely plausible, if +they contradict his Truth. For he trusts that these perplexities, these +difficulties which he is not now in condition to explain, will be +removed in virtue of that very thought to which he has confidently +committed himself. + +This unflinching resolve is the courage of the philosopher, who has +never feared to brave common sense, and single-handed to marshal against +the multitude the array of his seemingly absurd assertions, which +however, in the progress of their reciprocal integrations, have +subsequently contributed to redeem this very multitude from error,--from +that error which is intellectual misery, social wretchedness, economic, +political, and moral destitution. Because of this inflexible firmness +the philosopher has never dreaded that boundless solitude, that thin +atmosphere to which he is uplifted by thought, and where at first he has +the sensation of fainting away into the rarefied air. + +We must then muster up courage and relinquish all the ideas which we +once accepted, even though they still tempt us with superficial +glitterings of truth, when once they have proved themselves to be in +contradiction with experience. For I too hold experience to be the +touchstone of all our thoughts, philosophy not excluded. But I insist +that we be careful lest we confound the mockery of the first puppet that +dupes our imagination with genuine experience; that in as much as every +man speaks of experience in exclusive accordance with whatever concept +he has been able to form of it, we too determine beforehand what our +conception of it is. Now I say that no concept of experience can be +validly entertained which does not take into account that truth which +presents itself to us as truly fundamental and therefore to be used as +an indispensable basis for all subsequent conceptual constructions. + +Such fundamental truth we have previously attained when we established +that "We" are not what we seem to be in the dim empirical representation +of our personality, a thing among things. Our "Self" is the deeper one +by means of which we see all things in whose midst our other self too is +discernible. The reality of this, our deeper "self" which cannot be +conceived as a thing, without which nothing can be conceived, in the +same way that the trunk, the branches, and the boughs are not possible +without the root from which the tree issues, is a truth which we may +never grasp, but if we do, we shall forever be compelled to see in it +the source of all other possible truths, including the concept of +experience. For once we have securely mastered it, we will be convinced +that it is impossible to conceive whatever is considered and thought of +as constituting this world otherwise than as this world which _we_ see, +which _we_ touch, and which, in short, we look upon as the contents of +_our_ experience: and that it is also impossible to conceive this +experience without referring it to _us_ who have it not as an object of +possession but as an activity which we exercise. So that nothing, +absolutely nothing, can be thought when the relationship between things +and experience, and again the rapport between experience and ourselves +is obtained, without thinking the deep reality of this our "self." We +may again close our eyes to this reality or hold it in abeyance, but we +can do so only after we have effaced every notion of the two +relationships just mentioned, and when we again have immersed ourselves +in the mystery of things, in the gloom of their apparent independent +existence, of their ever self-defeating multiplicity. + +Against this reality of the profound "us" which is the genuine spiritual +reality, there are innumerable and awe-inspiring difficulties. They are +difficulties that so violently oppress our minds and our hearts as to +dismay us, and almost force us to give up this concept of a reality on +which all other realities depend, and which cannot but be one alone, and +infinite, and really universal.[4] Alone, because in it all opposites +must coincide: the good and the evil, what is true and what is false, +life and death, peace and war, pleasure and pain, yours and mine,--all +things, in short, that we have been obliged to sunder and distinguish in +order to take our bearings and meet the exigencies of life. Formidable +difficulties indeed! And they are the problems of philosophy. It would +be childish and senseless to dispose of them by ignoring that concept +from which they derive. It is the philosopher's task, it is the strict +duty of human thought to face the problems as they rise out of the +positions which it has captured in its onward march. For to yield +ground, to turn the back to a truth which has been demonstrated to be +indispensable, that is impossible. + +Those who wish to orient themselves in the world to-day must, before +all, cling to this: that the basis of every thinkable reality is our +spiritual reality, one, infinite, universal,--the reality which unites +us all in one sole spiritual life; the reality in which teacher and +pupils meet when by their reciprocal comprehensions they constitute a +real school. + +What then is this one, infinite, universal reality? Is this question +truly unanswerable as it seems to be, as it has often in the past +been declared to be? For, it has been argued, in order to give an +answer, whether here or elsewhere, we must somehow think the reality +to which the answer is referred. We must think it and therefore +distinguish it from all the others, and so presuppose it as one +existing among many and as forming with them a multiplicity; and this is +the very opposite of that reality which we are striving to think. +Or, in other words, when we try to say what the subject is, we must, +somehow, set it as the object, and thus convert it into what is the +opposite of the subject. Or again: the subject cannot think itself, +because if it did, it would split into the duality of itself as +thinking and itself as thought, and what is thinking is not what is +thought. But all these objections together with many others of the +same force that are ordinarily raised against radical idealism have but +one single defect; which is such, however, as to make it hopeless for +the idealist ever to succeed in being understood by those that resort +to this kind of argument. These opponents, strangely enough, miss the +most elementary meaning of the terms with which they claim to be +familiar. They fail to see that when the idealist says "subject," he +cannot possibly mean by it one abstract term of the relationship +_subject-object_, which, because of this very abstractness, is +devoid of all consistency. The _ego_ is called "subject," because it +contains within itself an object which is not diverse but identical +with it. As a pure subject it is already a relationship; it is +self-affirmation and therefore affirmation of an object, but of an +object, be it remembered, in which the subject is not alienated from +itself; by which, rather, it truly returns to itself, embraces itself, +and thus originatively realises itself. In order to be _I_, I must +know myself, I must set my own self in front of myself. Only thus I am +I, a personality, and "subject," the centre of my world or of my +thought. For if I should not objectify myself to myself, if in the +endeavour to free myself completely from all objectivity, I were to +retreat into the first term,--a purely abstract one,--of this +relationship by which I posit myself, I should remain on the hither side +of this relationship, that is of that very reality in which I am to +realise myself. So then by this inner objectification the subject +does not at all depart from itself. It rather enters into its own +subjectivity, and constitutes it. Surely man may, Narcissus-like, +make an idol of his own self: he may worship himself in a fixed +semblance already determined and crystallised. But in so doing, he +materialises himself, makes his person into a thing, looks away from +his true spiritual life, misses self-consciousness, averts his thought +from his own intimate being. This self-conversion from person into +thing takes place, not when we think of ourselves, but rather when we +fail to do so. + +Philosophy then, as the thinking of the Spirit in its absolute +subjectivity, is the Spirit's own life. For the spirit lives by +constituting itself as the ego, and it does this by thinking itself, by +acquiring consciousness of itself. And while philosophising then, we +cannot but ask what is this one infinite universal reality which is our +_Self_ and is called the spirit. We cannot dispense with this inquiry +into the attributes of the spirit, which is at the same time the inquiry +into the attributes of culture. + +The examination of the possibility of this investigation has carried us, +without our being aware of it, into the very midst of the inquiry +itself. For what we considered as an elementary meaning of the word +"spirit," the _ego_, which is not something in unrelated immediacy, but +which constitutes itself, posits itself, realises itself in that it +thinks itself and becomes self-consciousness,--this is also the ultimate +characteristic which can be assigned to the spirit, or to man himself, +that is, to what in man is essentially human. If we examine all the +other differences that have been assigned or could be found by which the +spirit is distinguishable from things, we shall find, after due +reflection, that they all cease to have a real meaning as soon as we +neglect the most profound characteristic of spiritual reality, viz., +that this reality is generated by virtue of consciousness. Every form of +reality other than spiritual, not only is presented to thought as not +conditioned by consciousness, but seems to afford no possibility of +being thought (in relation to consciousness) otherwise than as +conditioning this very consciousness. And when we say of the spiritual +being that it does not know what it is, that it is not acquainted with +itself, that it therefore remains concealed from itself, we conceive +then its spiritual being in a manner analogous to that by which we +conceive material or bodily being,--externally visible, but internally +unknown. And we say that the individual fails to grasp his own moral +nature, because in fact we make this moral being into something natural, +similar to that which is attributed to each one of the things that the +spirit sets in opposition to itself. + +But the spirit has no nature of its own, no destiny to direct its +course, no predetermined inevitable lot. It has no fixed qualities, no +set mode of being, such as constitute, from the birth to the death of an +individual, the species to which it belongs, to whose law it is +compelled by nature to submit, whose tyrannical limits and bounds he can +never trespass. The spirit, we have seen, cannot but be conceived as +free, and its freedom is this privileged attitude to be what it wants +to,--angel or beast, as the ancients said; good or evil, true or false, +or, generally speaking, to be or not to be. To be or not to be +man,--the spirit, that which he is, and which he would not be if he did +not _become_. + +Man is not man by virtue of natural laws. He _becomes_ man. By man I do +not mean an animal among animals, held to no accounting of his deeds, +who comes into the world, grows, lives, and dies, unaware. Man from the +time he considers himself such, and in so far as he considers himself +such, _becomes_ through his own efforts. He makes himself what he is the +first time he opens his eyes on his inner consciousness and says +"_I_,"--the "I" which never would have been uttered, had he not been +aroused from the sluggish torpor of natural beings (such as our phantasy +represents them) and had not started thinking under his own power and +through his own determination. + +This freedom which is man's prerogative offers merely an external view, +has a very hazy consistency, and appears as something illusory, only +because we do not define it exclusively as autonomous becoming or +self-making. For in fact "becoming" is ordinarily understood in a way +which does not admit of being considered as man's prerogative. Does not +every living being _become_? The plant vegetates only because it too has +an inborn potency by which it is forced from one stage of development to +the next, from which in this process it acquires the mode of being which +is peculiarly its own, which it did not have before, which no other +being could from the outside have conferred upon it. And yet the plant +is not a person but a thing: it is not spirit, but a simple object, and +as such it is endowed with a definite nature and moved by a definite +law, which is the very antithesis of the freedom which is peculiar to +the spirit. + +I might without further thought say that this conception of becoming, +referred to the plant as a plant, is improper, that in reality the plant +does not _become_ for the very reason that we deny it its freedom. But I +shall begin by stating that the becoming which we attribute to the +spiritual reality must be specified and determined with greater +accuracy, if we are to consider it as the characteristic of this +reality. When so specified and determined, it will be found to coincide +with the conception of freedom. Becoming, then, can be taken in two +ways, which for brevity's sake we shall call the _autonomous_ and the +_heteronomous_. That is, the being which becomes may have the law of its +becoming either in itself or outside of itself. Becoming covers such +cases as, for example, the filling of a vessel into which a liquid is +poured. But this becoming takes place in a manner which has its law in +the person that fills the vessel; and the filling therefore may be +considered not so much a becoming as the effect of a becoming, that is, +as the result of that act which is being performed by man. An +heteronomous becoming is to be traced back to the becoming of the cause +which produces it. The plant vegetates, and its vegetation is a +development, a becoming. But could it grow without the rays of the sun, +the moisture of the soil? The plant vegetates in consequence of its +nature, that nature which in accord with our ordinary way of considering +plant life it possessed from the time it was a green blade just +sprouting; nay, from the time it was a seed in the ground, or rather +when it was as yet in the plant that produced the seed, or better still +when it was in its infinitely remote origin. It is evident therefore +that we cannot think of the law of becoming as residing, so to speak, +within a given plant. Whether we call it nature or name it God, this law +transcends the becoming of the plant, its heteronomous becoming as we +called it, and is properly the becoming of something else. But the +becoming of man is autonomous. If he _becomes_ intelligent, that is, if +he understands, he does so through a principle which is intrinsically +his own; for no man can be made to comprehend what he himself will not +grasp. If he becomes good, his perfected will can in no manner +whatsoever be considered as determined by an outside cause, without at +the same time being thereby deprived of all that is characteristic of +goodness. + +But in stating that man's becoming is autonomous (or true) we have +simply formulated a problem without giving it a solution. What does this +autonomous becoming consist in? Simply to notice its existence would +never help us to understand it. Every fact is intelligible only as an +effect of a cause. And a cause is a cause on condition that it be a +thing other than the effect. In order to understand the autonomous +becoming or freedom of the spirit, we must not consider it as a fact, +that is, as something done. A thing made presupposes the making; and +from the deed we must rise to the doing, but to a doing which shall not +itself be a thing done, a fact, and similar therefore to the doings +which we witness as mere spectators. The doing in which our autonomous +becoming is detected is that one of which _We_ are not spectators but +actors, we the spectators of every other doing, we as the thinking +Activity. + +This then is the becoming which rigorously may be called autonomous: the +one which we know not as spectators but as actors, which comes forth as +that reality which is produced by the act of knowing, and therefore is +not known because it exists, but exists because it is known,--our +existence. It is the existence of us who know, for example, that a==b, +and who are such only in so far as we know and are conscious of knowing +that a==b,--of us who suffer or rejoice, and who cannot be in this or +that state except by knowing it, so that no cause could reduce us to +such a state, unless we were conscious of such a cause and felt its +valid application to us,--of us, above all, who are not ourselves unless +we apperceive ourselves, by reflecting upon ourselves, and thus +acquiring existence as a personality, as human self-consciousness, as +thought. Thought in opposition to nature, with which it is constantly +contrasted, is nothing but this self-reflection which establishes the +personality, and that reality which, absolutely, is not, but becomes. +Every reality other than thought _becomes_ relatively; and its becoming +is intelligible simply as the effect of another becoming. Only thought, +only the Spirit, is absolute becoming, and its becoming is its liberty. + +But whether it be called "freedom" or "becoming," the important thing is +to avoid the mistake, which was general in the past and is still very +common to-day, of separating this attribute of the spirit from the +spirit itself, thus failing to understand exactly what is properly +called the attribute. For example, we say that the triangle is a +three-sided plane figure, and we seem to be able to distinguish and +therefore to separate logically the idea of _triangle_ from the idea of +_three-sided plane figure_. But a little reflection will make it evident +that in thinking the idea of triangle, we think nothing unless we at +least think the plane trilateral figure. So that we do not really have +two ideas, which however closely connected may yet be separated to be +conjoined again: what we have is one single idea. And such is the +agreement of the becoming and of the spirit, and in general of every +attribute and of the reality to which it belongs. When we begin +inquiring whether the spirit is free or not, we set out on an erroneous +track which will take us into a blind alley with no possibility of exit. +All the unsurmountable difficulties encountered at all times by the +advocates of the doctrine of freedom arise in fact from the error of +first thinking the spirit (or whatsoever that reality may be for which +freedom is claimed) and of subsequently propounding the question of its +properties. For the spirit is _free_ in as much as it is nothing else +than _freedom_; and the spirit "becomes" in as much as it is nothing +else than "becoming," and this becoming cannot therefore be considered +as the husk enveloping the kernel--the spirit. There is no kernel to the +spirit: it is in no manner comparable to a moving body in which the body +itself could be distinguished from motion, and would admit therefore of +being thought as in a state of rest even though rest is considered +impossible. The spirit, continuing our simile and correcting it, is +motion without a mass,--a motion surely that cannot be represented to +our imagination, for the very reason that motion is peculiar to the body +and does not belong to the spirit; and imagination is the thought of +bodies, and not of the thought which thinks the bodies. This idea of +motion without a mass, baffling as it is to our imagination, is perhaps +the most effective warning that can be given to those who wish to fix in +their minds the exact concept of the nature of the spirit. In order to +avoid new terminology not sufficiently intelligible and therefore +unpractical, we may resort to material expressions, and speak of the +nature of the spirit as of a "thing" which becomes, and use such words +as "kernel" and "husk." But we must never lose sight of the fact that +this manner of speaking, which is appropriate for things, is not +suitable for the spirit, and can be resorted to only with the +understanding that the spirit is not a thing, and that therefore its +whole being consists solely in its becoming. + +We are now in a position to understand the meaning of the spirituality +of culture, that is, of the reduction of culture to the human +personality obtained in the preceding chapter, as well as the +pedagogical interest of this reduction. Culture, as the entire content +of education, because it must be sought within the personality, and +because it resolves itself into the life of the spirit, is not a thing, +and does not admit of being conceived statically either in books or in +the mind: not before nor after it is apprehended. It does not exist in +libraries or in schools, or in us before we go to school, or while we +still remain within its walls, or after our nourished minds have taken +leave of it. It is in no place, at no time, in no person. Culture _is +not_, because if it _were_, it would have to be some "thing," whereas by +definition it is the negation of that which is capable of being anything +whatever. It is culture in so far as it _becomes_. Culture exists as it +develops, and in no other manner. It is always in the course of being +formed, it _lives_. + +But to understand this _life_, and in order to grasp more firmly this +"idea" of culture which is a spiritual banner to rally educators, I +must again bring up a certain distinction. Culture, I said, lives +(that is, it is culture) when it is endowed with a life that is +entirely different from the life which biologically animates all +living beings, ourselves included. The difference can be stated as +follows: in the case of every other life, we can assert its existence +in so far as we have knowledge of it either directly or indirectly. It +is always, however, different from us and from our knowing it; so +much so that the possibilities of going astray are very great. But +for the life of culture, which is the life of our spirit, we have no +need of being informed by the experience of others, or even of +ourselves. We live it. It is our very thought,--this thought which +may indeed err in respect to what is different from itself, as not +tallying with it; but which cannot possibly deceive us in regard to +itself, since it is unable not to be itself. The life of culture is +not a spectacle but an activity. Nor is it activity for some and a +spectacle for others. Culture is never a show for any one. No person can +ever know for his fellow being. What, for me, Aristotle knows, is +what I know of Aristotle. + +Culture,--this untiring activity which never for a moment turns into a +spectacle for any of us, which ever therefore demands effort and +toil,--could not avoid becoming a show and being made up into a +"thing," could not escape the danger of dying as culture by degenerating +into something anti-spiritual, fruitless, and material, if, while yet +being activity, it were not at the same time in some way a spectacle to +itself. This point demands careful consideration. It is not sufficient +to say that culture, that thought is life, and not the thought of life. +We will not attain the conception of culture by merely contrasting, as +we have done, our life, the life we lead as actors, with the life of +others which we behold as spectators, or by opposing the life of +ourselves as thinking beings to the life we possess as organic beings, +to the life of our senses by which we are on a par with the other +animals. The life of thought, in its peculiar inwardness and +subjectivity, is still conceived to-day by powerful thinkers, by analogy +with life in a biological sense, as irreflective and instinctive, or, as +they say, as simple intuition. But thought which though living is +irreflective becomes indeed an active performance, a drama without +spectators, but it also remains as a drama represented for spectators +who are absent, and who should be informed of those things which direct +experience had not placed before their eyes. And it is difficult to +surmise who would impart to them this information if the house were +empty. + +In other words, I mean to say that this would-be intuitive life of +thought, fading away into the subconscious, melting into the naturality +of the unconscious, is, like every form of natural life effectually a +stranger to thought (that is _conceived_ as a stranger to thought), an +object and nothing more than an object of thought, and therefore +incapable of ever being a subject, of ever having value as subject, that +is, as thought itself. For that reason we can never effectively think +it; for never can we truly think any thing which is natural and thought +of as natural. Who can say what the life of the plant is? To posit +nature by thought is to posit something irreducible to thought and +therefore unthinkable. This perhaps would not necessarily be a serious +drawback for the life itself of thought if we lived it. For would it not +be sufficient to live it? Why insist on _thinking_ its life? Why demand +a head, so to speak, as a hood for the head? But there is a drawback, +and a serious one, as a result of the fact that this life itself of +thought does not now, never will in the future, come before us as that +irreflective life which it is claimed to be: it comes to us as a +philosophy which recommends it and advocates it as the only possible +life of thought. In fact, in order to be able to speak of this life, we +must first think it. But how could we think it, if the only possible +life was that one which we intend to think, and not the one with which +we think this irreflective life? + +So then, in order that this life of ours (truly, intimately, spiritually +ours) may not be confounded with the life of natural things, with that +pseudo-life which is only an apparent becoming, an effect of another +becoming by which it is transcended, it is not sufficient, as I started +out to say, to call it a drama and not a spectacle. As a result of more +careful determinations we may now say that it is not another man's +spectacle, but our drama which is at the same time our spectacle too. In +it the actors play to themselves. It is self-conscious activity. It is +activity perpetually watching over itself. + +And again: Just as the becoming of the spirit would cease to be that one +sole becoming which it actually is, were we to distinguish the spirit +from its becoming, so the consciousness of spiritual activity would also +become unintelligible if we were to distinguish, as philosophers +insistently do, between activity and awareness, between the performance +and the show. The distinction here too arises from referring to the +spirit, the mode of thinking which is suited for the thinking of things. +In the sphere of things, doing is one thing, watching the thing as it is +done is another. But to us the spirit's becoming has shown itself to be +the very negation of this distinction between actor and spectacle, so +that in saying that the actor is his own spectator we cannot introduce, +within the unity in which we had taken refuge, the dualism which is +excluded from the concept of the spirit. I have spoken of "motion +without mass," turning a deaf ear to the claims of our imagination. Now +I shall add something that clashes even more violently against the laws +which govern our image-making; and I shall do so in order to make it +very clear that the spirit does not live in the world of things which is +swept over by our imagination. I shall now call the spirit a gazing +motion. The spirit's acting--its eternal process, its immanent +becoming--is not an escort to thinking, but the very thinking itself, +which is neither cause nor effect: neither the antecedent nor the +consequent, nor yet the concomitant of the action by which the spirit +goes on constantly impersonating itself. _It is this very acting._ + +In accordance with the popular point of view which, as I have said, is +shared by great philosophers, a distinction is made between the spirit +considered as will and the spirit regarded as intellect, or as +consciousness, or as thought, or whatever term may be used to indicate +the becoming aware of this spiritual activity. But if the spirit in that +it wills did not also think, we should be thrust back to the position +which we have shown above to be untenable, and be forced to admit that +the irreflective life of the spirit cannot be fused with the reflective +life, and is therefore unaccountable and unthinkable. The will which +_qua_ will is not also thought, is in respect to thought which knows it +a simple object, a spectacle and not a drama. It is nature and not +spirit. And a thought which _qua_ thought is not will, is, in respect +to the will which integrates it, a spectator without a spectacle. If +there is to be a drama, and a drama which is the spirit, it is +inevitable that the will be the thought, and that the thought be the +will, over and beyond that distinction which serves if anything to +characterise the opposition between nature and spirit. + +Should we, returning to our comparison, demand of that motion which is +spirit a moving mass; should we, grounded on the naïve and primitive +conception which identifies knowing with the seeing of external things, +demand within the sphere of the spiritual activity itself a doing in +which knowing should find its object all ready made, we should continue +to wander helplessly in the maze of things, and to grope in the mystery +of the multiplicity of things, which are many and yet are not many. We +would be turning our eyes away from the lode star which is the supreme +concept of the spirit, and thereby show ourselves incapable of rising to +that point of view which is the peculiar one of culture. + +Culture, as the spirit's life, which is a drama and self-awareness, is +not simply effort and uneasy toil, it is not a tormenting restlessness +which we may sometimes shake off, from which we would gladly be rescued. +Nor is it a feverish excitement that consumes our life-blood and tosses +us restlessly on a sick-bed. The spirit's life is not vexation but +liberation from care. For the greatest of sorrows, Leopardi tells us, +is _ennui_, the inert tedious weariness of those who find nothing to do, +and pine away in a wasting repose which is the very antithesis of the +life of the spirit. The negation of this life,--the obstacles, the +hindrances, the halts it encounters,--that is the source of woe. But +life with its energy is joy; it is joy because it is activity, our +activity. Another man's activity as the negation of our own is +troublesome and exasperating. The music which we enjoy (and we are able +to enjoy it by being active) is our enjoyment. But the musical +entertainment in which we have no part disturbs us, interferes with our +work, irritates us. Our neighbour's joys in which for some reason we are +unable to participate awaken envy in us, gall us, bring some manner of +displeasure to our hearts. + +Culture, then, as life of the spirit, is effort, and work, but never a +drudgery. It would be toilsome labour if the spirit had lived its life +before we began to work; if this life had blossomed forth, and had +realised itself without our efforts. But our effort, our work is this +very life of the spirit, its nature, in which culture develops. Work is +not a burdensome yoke on our will and on our personality. It is +liberation, freedom, the act by which liberty asserts its being. Work +may sometimes appear irksome because the freedom of its movement is +checked by certain resistances which have to be overcome and removed. +But in such cases it is not work which vexes us, but rather its +opposite, sloth, against which it must combat. It follows then that the +more intensely we occupy ourselves, the less heavily we are burdened by +pain. For as our efforts redouble and the resistance is proportionately +reduced, the spirit, which perishes in enthralment, is enabled to live a +richer life. + +Culture then is the extolment of our being, the formation of our spirit, +or better, its liberation and its beatification. As the realisation of +the spirit's own nature, it is opposed to all suffering and is the +source of blissfulness. But it must not be regarded as the fated, +inevitable working out of an instinctive principle, or a natural law. +The building of a bird's nest, which is the necessary antecedent to +generation and reproduction, cannot be looked upon as work; and it is +fruitless to try to guess whether this act is a cause of pleasure to the +bird or a source of suffering. Instinct leads the individual to +self-sacrifice on behalf of the species. But not even this fact, vouched +for solely by external inferences, authorises us to conclude that the +fulfilment of an instinctive impulse is actually accompanied by pain. So +that it seems wiser to keep off this slippery surface of conjecture. It +will be sufficient to note here that an action prompted by instinct, +conceived as merely instinctive and thoroughly unconscious of the end to +which it is subservient, is in no way to be compared with man's work. +Human occupation is personality, will, consciousness. The animal does +not work. But culture we have said is work. For it is liberty, +self-formation, with no existence previous to the process; whereas the +laws which govern the development of natural being pre-exist before the +development itself. Culture exists only in so far as it is formed, and +it is constituted solely by being developed. And what is more, as we +shall see in the next chapter, culture does not even count on a +pre-existing external matter ready to receive its informing imprint. + +To conclude then: culture _is_ (in its becoming) only to the extent that +the cultivated man feels its worth, desires it, and realises it. It is a +value, but not in the sense that man first appreciates it and +subsequently looks for it and strives to actualise it. The value which +man assigns to culture is that which he gradually goes on ascribing to +_his_ own culture, and whose development coincides with the development +of his own personality. What we ought to want is exactly what we do +want; but we want just that which we ought to. The ideal, not the +abstract, inadequate, and false one, but the true ideal of our +personality, is that one toward whose realisation we are actually +working. And the ideal of our culture is that self-same one towards +which our busy person remains turned in the actuality of its becoming. +But work implies a programme, and spirit means "ideal;" and when we +speak of culture we signify thereby the value of culture, of a culture +which as yet is not but which must be. Life is the life of the spirit as +a duty,--as a life which we live, feeling all along that it is our duty +to live it, and that it depends on us whether it exists or not. And +culture could not re-enter as it does in the life of the spirit, if it +too were not a duty, that is, if it were not this culture to whose +development our personality is pledged. So interpreted, culture, far +from being a destiny to which we are bound, is the progressive triumph +of our very freedom. On these terms only, culture is a growth, and the +spirit a becoming. + +This attribute, which is an ethical one, is not added to the attribute +of Becoming any more than "becoming" was superadded to "freedom." For +just as Becoming develops the concept of freedom, so does the ethical +develop and accomplish the concept of becoming. Freedom is never true +liberty unless it is a process, an absolute Becoming; but Becoming can +only be absolute by being moral. And it is therefore impossible to speak +of learning which is not ethical. + +It has often been repeated for thousands and thousands of years that +knowledge is neither good nor bad; that it is either true or false. But +is the True a different category from the Good? Are they not rather one +sole identical category? Truth could be maintained in a place quite +distinct from the grounds of morality, only so long as the world clung +to that conception of truth which was the agreement of the subject with +an assumed external object. But now by truth we understand the value of +thought in which the subject becomes an object to itself and thus +realises itself; and in clarifying this new conception of truth, we +discover that morality is identical with it. For knowing is acting, but +an acting which being untrammelled conforms with an ideal--Duty. And in +this manner we explain to ourselves why the mysterious and inspired +voice of conscience has at all times admonished man to worship Truth +with that same intense earnestness, with those same scruples, with that +identical personal energy, which we devote to every phase of our moral +mission. The cult of truth is in fact what we otherwise call and +understand to be morality, namely, the formation of our personality, +which can be ours only by belonging to all men, and which, whether or +not ours, is not immediate, not a given personality, but rather one +which is intent on self-realisation, on that sacred and eternal task +which is the Good. + +If we now feel culture to be free, to be a process, and an ethical one +at that, we have succeeded in grasping its spirituality, and we are in a +position therefore to proceed with security on that way which opens +before the educator's eyes, as he intently goes about his work of +creation, or, if you so wish to call it, his task as a promoter of +culture. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [3] "Forest savage, rough, and stern."--Dante, _Inferno_, i. 5. + + [4] Many speak of the universal and say that they conceive this + universal as concrete and immanent. Few, however, effectively fix + their thought on that universality which alone is such, which + alone can be such, which has nothing outside of itself, not even + the particular, and which is ideal on condition that the idea to + which it belongs be reality itself in all its determinateness. And + so in speaking of "universal" and of "individual" we must remember + that the latter cannot be anything without being the former, since + indeed the universal is not a merely abstract idea, but reality, + the reality of thought. Therefore I have here used the expression + "really universal".--G. G. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE BIAS OF REALISM + + +Educators of the modern school are bent on transforming its methods and +institutions on the basis of the conception set forth in the previous +chapters. The subtle discussions required to make this conception clear +must have convinced the reader that this work of educational reform +could only succeed if preceded by such philosophical doctrines as have +recently been evolved in Italy and are now becoming the accepted faith +of the newer generation. To this new belief the school must be +converted, if it is ever going to conquer that freedom which has been +its constant aspiration, and which seems to be an indispensable +condition for its further growth. + +The faith of the modern man cleaves to a life conceived and directed +idealistically. He believes that life--true life--is man's free +creation; that in it, therefore, human aims should gain an ever fuller +realisation; and that these aims, these ends will not be attained unless +thought, which is man's specific force, extends its sway so as to +embrace nature, penetrate it, and resolve it into its own substance. He +believes that nature, thus turned into an instrument of thought, yields +readily to its will, not being _per se_ opposed or repugnant to the life +and activity of the spirit, but rather homogeneous and identical with +it. He believes, moreover, that this sway can only be obtained by +amplifying, strengthening, and constantly potentiating our human energy, +which means thinking, knowing, self-realising; and that self-realisation +is not possible unless it is free, unless it be rescued from the +prejudice of dependence upon external principles, and unless it affirms +itself as absolute infinite activity. This is the _Kingdom of Man_ +prophesied at the dawn of modern thought. This is the work which +science, art, religion, not less than political revolutions and social +reforms, have gradually been accomplishing and perfecting in the last +three hundred years. This new spiritual orientation has to a certain +extent influenced teaching; and though without a general programme of +substantial reforms, the ideal of education has been transformed along +idealistic lines. This transformation, strange to say, has been effected +in part by means of institutions which have arisen as a result of the +recent development of industrial life and of the corresponding +complexity in economic and social relations. These schools, because of +their names, seem to be quite removed from the idealistic tendencies of +modern civilisations. Whether they be called technical, business, or +industrial schools, they seem to be and are in fact the result of a +realistic conception of life. But such realism, we must remember, is +far from being opposed to our idealism, and should not be compared with +the realism which we have objected to. We should rather consider it as +the most effective demonstration of the idealistic trend of our times. +For these institutions are founded on the theory that knowledge +increases man's power in the world by enabling him to overcome the +obstacles by which nature, if ignored and unknown, would hinder the free +development of civilisation in general, and of those individuals in +particular in whom and through whom civilisation becomes actual. + +Realism, on the other hand, as the opposite of the idealistic conception +of life and culture, was shown to be based on a conception of reality +which exists totally outside of human thought and of the civilisation +which is produced by it,--of a reality existing _per se_ in such a way +that no end peculiar to man, no free human life, can be conceived which +will have the power of bending this reality toward itself, of resolving +it within itself. This realistic point of view is not different from the +outlook of the primitive man who, awed by the might of nature, kneels +submissively before its invisible power, which, he thinks, controls +these forces. It is the accepted belief of the naïve and dreamy +consciousness of child-like humanity; but it is none the less a +conception which is opposed to the course constantly followed by +civilisation. Its dangers must be made very clear and its menace removed +from the path of its triumphant enemy. To overcome this realistic point +of view in the field of education is the duty of teachers, who must be +in a position to recognise it, and to track it into whatever hiding +places it may lurk. I intend therefore in this chapter to point out some +of the most notable realistic prejudices which, though still tolerated +by contemporary thought, ought to be definitely stamped out, if we are +really convinced of the spiritual character of culture and of its +essential attributes. + +I shall here bring up again a consideration which I touched upon in the +first chapter,--an idea which is the fundamental prejudice of the +realistic theory of education in its antagonism to the profound +exigencies of the free spiritual life which education should promote. I +mean the idea of Science (with a capital S),--that Science which is +imagined as towering over and above the men who toil and suffer, think +and struggle in quest of its light and of its force; that Science which +would be so beautiful, and majestic, and impressive, were it not for the +fact that it does not exist. This Science is looked upon as infallible, +without crises, without reverses, without vicissitudes of doctrines, +without parties, and without nationality,--without history in short; for +history is full of these baser occurrences; and men, without a single +exception, even the greatest of scientists, even the lofty geniuses that +have transformed or systematised knowledge, are all in some measure +prone to err. The exceptions which are adduced to contradict this +statement are so few, so limited by restrictions and by hair-splitting +distinctions, that we can hardly allow them; especially when we consider +that even granting the infallible oracular character of some men's +utterances, the fact remains that his listeners must undergo the process +of understanding him, and in so doing they may go astray. So that from +superhuman unfailing verities, we slip back instantly to human +fallibility. Infallible Science, then, is not known, cannot be known to +mankind; for the simple reason that we who constitute it are subject to +error, and being ourselves prone to fail, we expose science to the same +danger. If it does exist somewhere it surely is not in this world in +which we live, thinking, knowing, and--creating science. + +This mythical science, unsullied and incorruptible, segregated from all +possible intercourse with thought, ever soaring in the pure air of +divine essences, is yet the mother of a numerous offspring, the parent +of countless daughters as virginal and as infallible as the mother +herself. These are the particular sciences, bearing various names, but +all of them equally worthy of the distinction of the capital S in the +eyes of their realistic worshippers. + +This mythology is taught in the schools which too often are called, and +without any figurative meaning, the shrines of learning. Conceived as +divinely superlative, as something which, though revealed historically +by the successive discoveries of privileged minds, is none the less +sharply distinct from the history of humanity, science descends into the +school. There it manifests itself as human knowledge, and is +communicated to the youthful minds eager to ascend to the heaven of +truth. And so the school comes to be looked upon as a kind of temple, as +the Church where the inspired Word of the Sacred Books is read and +explained by those who have been chosen by the Divinity to act as its +interpreters, as preachers of the Faith. With this religious conception +of the school we connect the "mission" of the educator, whose task, when +not ridiculed and lampooned by the same scoffers who at all times have +jeered at the teachers of divinity, has been surrounded by a glamour of +religiosity. We see them encircled by that halo of distant respect which +we naturally connect with those who, acting as intermediaries between us +and the deity, are themselves transfigured and deified. + +The school then is looked upon as a temple in which the pupil receives +his spiritual bread. But not so the home which the boy must leave, that +he may satisfy his mysteriously innate craving for knowledge. Not so the +street, where the small boys gather, drawn together by the irresistible +need of pastime, by the sweet desire of frolicsome companionship, by the +unconscious yearning after spiritual communion with the world which +there makes its way into the child's mind far off from the classroom, +and lavishes upon it its own light, its portion of thought, its share of +new experiences, and the joy of an ever renewed outpouring of +sympathetic spirituality. + +The custodian of this temple, the schoolmaster, is regarded as a divine, +as the minister who imparts the consecrated elements of Science, who +leads the pupil to the "panem angelorum," as Dante calls it. But our +fathers and mothers are not so regarded,--they who were the first +custodians of a greater temple, the world, to whose marvels they +gradually initiated our growing minds; they who by the use of speech +taught us, without being aware of it, infinitely more than the best of +schools will ever be able to teach us in the future; not our elder +brothers to whom we always looked up in emulation, and from whom, even +more than from our parents, we learned the thoughts and the words suited +to our needs; not our grandmother, who long before our eager phantasy +might roam through the printed pages, gently led us into Fairyland, and +there, in the enchantments of a magic world, disclosed to us that +humanity which books and teachers later in life were to re-evoke for us. +No! There are no altars to Science except in the Schoolhouse, and none +but educators may minister to its cult. + +This mythological lore is not merely a harmless form of imagery, against +which it might be pedantic to rebel. It is a real superstition, which +has its roots deep down in the personality of the educator; it adheres +parasitically to culture, climbs over its sturdy trunk, drains its sap, +weakens it, deadens it. For when we have stripped this conception of +education of its mythological exterior, there yet remains a clearly +religious and realistic thought, which is professed with firm adhesion +of the mind and complete devotion of the soul, as the inviolable norm of +the whole activity which pertains to the object of this norm itself. Let +us, for example, consider what is presupposed by the doctrine of +methods, the so-called methodology, which is an important part of +didactics, and a very considerable section in the whole field of +pedagogics. The doctrine of methods comprises a general treatment, which +corresponds to what we called the Mother-Science, and a particular +treatment for the individual sciences. There is methodology of learning +in general, and there are methodics for the several disciplines, or at +least for each group of disciplines, into which learning is divided and +subdivided in accordance with the logical processes adopted in any +particular case, or in accordance with the objects of these disciplines. +To each method of knowing, considered in itself, corresponds a teaching +method, so that there is one general didactic method, and many special +ones by which the general method is to be applied. + +But what is the method of a science if not the logical scheme or the +form of a certain scientific knowledge? And, on the other hand, +what can be known as to the form of anything, unless we have the thing +itself before us in its form and with its contents? In order to define +the form of a science, and say, for example, that it is deductive in +mathematics and inductive in chemistry, we must first presuppose the +existence of these sciences themselves. But in them form is never +anything indifferent to content; it is the form of that content. This is +made clear if we consider the methodologies which logicians presume to +define in the abstract, and with no regard to the determined content of +the corresponding sciences. We notice that they are able to present a +successful exposition and formulation only by fixing the meaning of +each formula by the use of examples, thereby passing from the +abstract to the concrete, and showing the method to be within the +concrete knowing out of which logic presumes to extract it. In the same +way every philosophical system has its method; but whenever criticism +has endeavoured to fix abstractly the method of a system, in order +then to show how it has been applied in the construction of the +system itself, it has been forced in every case to admit that the +method already contained the system within itself, that it was the +system itself. So that it would have no value whatsoever, it could +not even be grasped by thought in its particular determinateness, if +it were not presented as the natural form of that precise thought. + +No harmful results would follow, if this assumption merely implied the +accepting of science and methods as existing by themselves previous to +the learning of science by means of its respective method; if it +resulted merely in the failure to recognise the impossibility of +conceiving science and methods as existing outside of the human mind +where they actually do live and exist. If this were all, we should +merely take notice of it as a speculative error which affected only the +solution of the particular problem in which it appeared. But in the life +of thought, where everything is united and connected in an organic +system, every point of which is in relation to every other point, there +is no error limited to a single problem; its effects are felt in the +whole system, and they react on thought as a whole. And since thought is +activity itself,--life's drama, as we called it,--every error infects +the entire life. Let us then consider the consequences of this realistic +conception of methodology. + +Science, we are told, in its abstract objectivity is one, immutable, +unaltered: it is removed from the danger of error and of human +fallibility, and protected from the alternate succession of ignorance +and discovery; incapable therefore of progressing and of developing +because it was complete from the very beginning, and is eternally +perfect. But such a Science is quite different from the one which +grows in the life of culture, and is the free formation of the human +personality. This one is ever changing, always admitting all +possible transformations, different from individual to individual, and +different also in the mind of the same person. It lives only on +condition that it never fix itself, that it never crystallise, that +it place no limits to its development; it continues to be in virtue +of its power to grow, to modify itself, to integrate itself and +incessantly to develop. Science as culture, as personality, is free, +perennially becoming, stirred by ethical impulses, multiple, varied. +If we fix the method, it indicates that we are dealing with science +realistically considered as pre-existing, and we can therefore have only +one sole, definite, immutable method,--one for everybody, and devoid of +freedom, not susceptible of development, refractory to all moral +evaluation. We should have then a rigid law of the spirit, as +compelling as the laws of nature. But by obedience to such a principle, +the spirit could not affirm itself: such compliance is surrender and +abdication, not the realisation of some good. The most that could be +said of it is that perhaps it prevents or annuls an evil which alienates +us from a primitive good which is not ours, and not being ours cannot +truly be good. + +A fixed method forces the spirit into this hopeless dilemma: (1) Either +refuse to submit, and thus save life at the cost of all that makes life +worth living--_propter vitam vivendi perdere causas_ (which evidently +would be the case, if we consider that the spirit lives solely on +condition that it recognise no pre-established laws, that it be free +from the bondage of nature, that it create its own law, its own world, +freely; and that, on the other hand, the _cause_ of living, what +constitutes the worth of life, is that enhancement of the spirit's +reality which realises itself in science, and therefore in the method of +science). + +(2) Or else submit, and kill life in the effort to save its +worth--_propter causas vivendi perdere vitam_ (which is absurd; for what +is the worth of life if there is no life?). + +However that may be, the type of education that presupposes a certain +ideal of knowledge previously constituted and ready to be imparted by +the teacher to the pupil in conformity with some suitable method, must +follow a method, a unique one--the method of science, and therefore of +the teacher, and therefore also of the pupil, whether the latter is +capable of it or not. For it is tacitly assumed that science==method; +science==teacher; science==pupil. On the strength of these equations the +common term "science" should suffice to identify the first method, which +is the one of science in itself, with the last, which is the method of +science to be mastered by the pupil. But the above series of equations +is false, because, admitting the first, the one namely on the basis of +which we are now discussing, neither the second nor the third is +possible without passing from realistic to idealistic science,--two +very different things, as I have shown. Even if we leave the teacher out +of consideration, we shall have to remember that the pupil learns a +science by making it his own,--a fallible science, which he may +understand up to a certain point and no further. It will be one of the +many sciences which have no one given method, but many of them, and the +pupil can only avoid appropriating, individualising, subjectivising +science by following that way which is very broad, very easy, and, alas, +only too well beaten,--the royal road of non-learning, which is +diligently upkept by all the schools which have to teach precise, +well-defined science, and have a pre-established method by which to +teach it. + +But, it might be objected, if science, realistically conceived, is a +fictitious entity in no way corresponding to reality, how is it possible +to have a method which by its uniqueness and definiteness effectively +corresponds to the unalterable unity of this non-existent science? And +what teacher would ever arbitrarily impose on his students such an +abstract and mechanical method? This is true enough; but man learns to +compromise with all deities, Science included. This divinity, in order +somehow to exist, must assume a few human traits without however +renouncing her divine prerogatives. The fact that Apollo held no +communion with the Pythian priestess did not remove the oracular +sanctity from the Delphic response. For man knows no deity other than +the one which he is capable of conceiving with his soul, just as he +knows no other red besides the one which he sees with his own eyes. + +Science, which he considers as an object existing in itself, outside of +his and other human minds, and therefore endowed with absolute validity +in all its branches and in the articulations of these branches, is +nothing but the science which _he_ knows. And he knows it because he has +constructed it in the form in which he knows it: _fingit creditique_. +But this absence of consciousness from the constructing, and the +consequent faith in the realistic value of science, determine the +positions and the doctrines which produce the consequences I have +deplored. For he who establishes a school and enacts its regulations +takes as a model his own science, without at all being aware that it is +only his own. It becomes therefore the content of the institution and +determines its method. But a teacher who does not feel inclined to +teach that given science and to adopt that special method creates his +own ideal, which is but the projection of his personal culture; and +unable to account critically for the intrinsic connection existing +between his ideal and his personality, he too _fingit creditique_. He +believes that the school authority has erred, and that Science, as +he understands it, must be kept distinct from the official doctrines. +But in his mind his science is not his own. It is, he is confident, +that Sovereign Science which by his method and through his cult must +enlighten the school over which he rules. And so at the point of +arrival where the realistic conception of methods must work, it is found +to be effective notwithstanding the rebuffs of reality, and it works. It +works and it acts in the only way that it is possible for it to act, +namely, by going amiss. It fails and will always continue to fail, not +so much because every pupil has his own personality and will have his +own particular culture with its corresponding method, but especially +because whatever the number of the pupils in a school, the human mind +knows of no culture which is not also its own free development, its +autonomous ethical becoming. A science, which is supposed to exist +before the spirit, becomes a thing, and will never again be able to +trace its way back to the spirit. By presupposing science, teachers +materialise the culture in whose development education consists; and +this materiality of a culture known to teachers renders impossible +that other culture which is unknown to teachers, which is going to +be not theirs, but the pupils', for whom they work and in whose behalf +the school was instituted. + +Methods, programmes, and manuals most conspicuously reveal the realistic +prejudices of school technique; and against these educators should +constantly be on their guard. For these prejudices have, as Vico would +put it, an eternal motive, which at times seems to be definitely +uprooted and completely done away with, only to reappear, alas! in a +different form and with an ever renewed lease of life. The motive is the +following: The school is created when people are conscious of a certain +amount of knowledge already attained, well defined, and recognised as +valuable. Likewise man's value socially is estimated on the work done, +and it is on the basis of this finished work that he is credited with +the acquisition of a certain personality. This is assuredly no longer a +becoming but a being; an existent thing, already realised, which, though +a contradiction in terms for those of us who have mastered the concept +of the attributes of the spirit, is not thereby condemned as accidental +and disposed of once for all. For it is also true that culture, +personality, science,--spiritual reality in short,--is a reality, and +true it is that when we know it, we know it as already realised. We may +indeed have a very keen and lively sentiment of the subjectivity, and +inwardness, and newness or originality of our culture, in which, for +example, Dante, Dante himself, is _our_ Dante, is "We." But yet this +"We" looms before us as a truth which transcends our particular "we." It +is truth; it is science. And before this divine Truth, before this +Science, we too fall on our knees, because it is no longer a mythology, +but--our experience, our life. + +Thus we think; thus, spiritually, we live. I meditate and inquire into +the mystery of the universe unceasingly; but in the background of my +inquiry, from time to time a solution appears, a discovery which urges +my exploring mind onward. Mystery itself is not mystery unless it be +known as such, and then it becomes knowledge. Inquiry is therefore at +once a research and a discovery. And this untiring activity, which knows +neither sleep nor rest, is mirrored before its own eyes and lives in the +fond contemplation of its reflected image, which image in its +objectivity appears to it as fixed as it, the activity, is mobile. And +no man ever felt so keenly the humility and meanness of his powers, no +one ever presumed so little of himself, that he could not yet be drawn +by his own nature to idolise himself, to see himself before himself, +exactly as he is, as what he cannot but be. And on the other hand we +cannot but affirm our immortal faith in the absolute truth of the ideals +which impose upon us sentiments of humility. + +The error which we must victoriously contend against is not this +ingenuous and unconquered faith in the objectivity of thought (which is +also the objectivity of all things). What we must fight against is +mental torpor and the sloth of the heart, which induce us to stop in +front of the object as soon as we get it. A deplorable failing indeed, +since the object is lost in the very act by which we grasp it, and we +must again resume our work and toil some more in order to attain it +again. For the object, in short, does exist, but in the subject; and in +order to be a living and real object it must live on the life itself of +the subject. + +A textbook is a textbook: when it was written, and if its author was +capable of thinking and of living in his thought, it too was a living +thing; and a living thing, that is, _spirit_, it will continue to be for +the instructor who does not through indolence allow himself to believe +that all the thinking demanded by the subject was done once for all by +the author of the manual. For the manual, as a book intended for the +teacher, meant to be constantly awakened by teachers to an ever +quickened life, the life of the spirit, can only be what the instructor +makes it. He, therefore, must have culture enough to read it as _his_ +book; he must be able to restore it to life, to re-create it by the +living process of his personal thought. This done, he will have done but +one-half of the work needed to transform himself from a reader into a +teacher. For his reading must lead up to the reading of the pupils; and +they ought not to be confronted with the finished product of a culture +turned out, all ready-made by the mechanism of the handbook. So that we +should now complete our previous statement, and say that the teacher +re-creates the book when he revives it in the mind of the one for whom +the book was written; when author, teacher, and pupil constitute but one +single spirit, whose life animates and inwardly vivifies the manual, +which therefore ought not to be called, as it is, a _hand_-book, but a +spiritual guide for the _mind_. Unfortunately the oft-deplored indolence +which freezes and stiffens spiritual life fastens the books to the hands +of the teacher first, and then to those of the pupils. + +Teachers should carefully watch themselves. If the book begins to feel +heavy in their hands, it is a sign that it is becoming a burden on the +pupils' minds. It will end by stifling their mental life, unless its +oppressive dulness is dispelled by the reawakened consciousness of the +instructor. Teachers should never for an instant become remiss in their +loving solicitude for their school. When their book, the book they +selected for their pupils, as the means of imparting the culture for +which the school stands, ceases to be the pupils' book, cherished by +them as a thing of their own, intimately bound up with their persons, +then it is high time to throw it away. For the moment a book loses its +power to attract it instantly begins to repel. It then becomes an +instrument of torture and a menace for the life of the youthful minds +entrusted to the teachers' care. + +Dictionaries and grammars go side by side with handbooks,--instruments +of culture that are only too often converted into engines of torture. +The abuse of these books, especially noticeable in the secondary +schools, is not limited to them, but is infecting primary instruction +too, and teachers should know what such books are, and be enlightened as +to their limitations. Otherwise the dictionary becomes the cemetery of +speech, and grammar the annexed dissecting room. A lexicon is a burial +ground for the mortal remains of those living beings which we call human +words, each one of which always lives in a context, not because it is +there in bodily company, in the society of other words, but because in +every context it has a special signification, being the form of a +precise thought or state of mind, as we may wish to call it. A word need +not be joined to other words to form that complex which grammarians call +a sentence. It may stand alone, all by itself, and constitute a +discourse, and express a thought, even a very great thought. The +"_fiat_" of the book of Genesis is an example. What is requisite is that +the word, whether by itself or with others, should adhere to the +personality, to the spiritual situation, and be the actual expression of +a soul. When joined to the soul a word, which materially is identical +with countless other words uttered by other souls, and with the peculiar +accents of the respective personalities, reveals its particular +expression, is a particular word not to be ever compared with any of +those countless ones materially identical with it. The biblical +"_fiat_," repeated by men who feel within them the almighty Word of the +Creator, is constantly taking on new shades of meaning, is always +reinforced by richer tones, and will always continue to do so, as a +result of the numerous ways that men have of picturing to themselves the +deity, and in accordance with the variety of doctrines, phantasies, and +sentiments, or whatever other forms of activity may converge into the +expression of a person's spiritual life. So that if, abstractly +considered, it is the word that we read, always the same, in the sublime +passage of Genesis, in reality it lives in an infinite number of forms, +as though an infinite number of words. + +But in dictionaries, words are sundered from the minds, detached from +the context, soulless and dead. A good lexicon--and those that are +put in the hands of pupils are seldom satisfactory--should always in +some way restore the word to the natural context, enchase it, so to +speak, in the jewel from which it was torn. It should never presume +to give meanings of abstracted words, but ought to point them out as +they exist historically in the authors who are deemed worthy +representatives of the language or of the literature. Dictionaries so +compiled do away partly with the objectionable abstractness, but are yet +unable to conjure the dead from their tombs. Their weakness and +insufficiency lie first of all in the fact that the true context of a +word, in which it lives concretely, and from which therefore it draws +its meaning, is in reality not the brief phrase, which is all that +historical dictionaries can quote, but rather the entire work of the +author from which the quoted phrase derives whatever colours it may +possess and its own peculiar shade. And the whole work in turn can be +understood only in connection with the boundless historical +environments out of which it emerges, in which it lives, and where +its thoughts receive their peculiar colouring and their special +significance. The insufficiency of the dictionary comes out even more +clearly from another and more important consideration. An historical +dictionary of the Italian language will, for example, tell us how +Machiavelli used the word "virtue" (_virtù_), and by the examples +adduced we should see or perhaps surmise the meaning of that word, +the knowledge of which is not just mere erudition, in as much as in the +mind of the cultured reader the thought of Machiavelli is restored to +life, and with it the concept which he was wont to express by the term +"virtue." But idealistically speaking, is this word Machiavelli's or is +it ours,--a word belonging to us who are inquiring into his thoughts? +It is ours, by all means, and for the reason that it belongs to _our_ +Machiavelli. Unless we have then within us this our Machiavelli, it is +useless for us to search for the meaning of the word in the dictionary. +In it surely we may find it, but as a dead body to be resurrected only +by remembering that its life is not in the printed page but in _us_, and +only in us. In our life everything will have to be resuscitated that is +to become part of our culture. + +And the same applies to grammars. As people conceive them and use them, +what are they if not a schematic arrangement of the forms by which +words are joined so as to constitute speech? And how can we cut the +discourse to the quick and extract these schemes, without at the same +time destroying its life? The scheme is a "part of speech," and it is a +rule. Grammar is a series of rules regarding the parts of speech, +considered singly and collectively. But the grammatical scheme--part of +speech or rule--abstracts a generic form from the particular expression +in such a way that the paradigm of a conjugation, for example, shall be +the conjugation of many verbs but not of any determined one. The rule +governing the use of the conditional is in the same way referred to +every verb which expresses a conditional act or occurrence, but to no +one verb in a peculiar manner. But since no speech contains a verb which +might present to us a verbal form which is not also the form of a +determined verb, nor a conditional which does not point with precision +to the action or occurrence subordinated to a condition, it is evident +that the scheme places before us, not the living and concrete body of +the speech, but a dissected and dead part of this body. + +I shall not here recall the controversies occasioned by the difficulties +inherent in the normative character ordinarily attributed to grammatical +schemes. I shall simply note that a scheme becomes intelligible only if +the example accompanies it; and the example always turns out to be a +living discourse, within which therefore we meet again the scheme, but +liberated from the presumed abstractness to which it had been confined +by the grammarian. And I shall merely add that the grammatical norm, +which in the realistic conception of grammar is presented as a rule, +anteceding actual speech both in time and ideally, has in reality no +validity whatsoever excepting as a law internal to the speaking itself, +which brings out its normative force only in the act itself of speaking. +In spite of this, however, the majority of people consider grammar as an +antecedent to speech and to thought, and therefore to the life of the +spirit. It appears to them as a reef on which the freedom of the +personality must be driven in the course of its becoming, bearing down +as it does on a past which is believed to exist beneath the horizon of +actuality and beyond the present life of the spirit. To them grammar is +legislation passed by former writers and speakers, prescribing norms for +those who intend to use the same language in the future. Against this +myth, and the consequent idol of grammar worshipped as a thing which has +not only the right, but the means also, of controlling and oppressing +the creative spontaneity of speech, teachers should be constantly on +their guard, if they feel bound to respect and protect the spirituality +of culture. + +Neither grammar then, nor rhetoric, nor any kind of misguided preceptive +teaching should be allowed to introduce into the school the menace of +realism which lurks naturally in the shadow of all prescriptive +systems. A precept is a mere historical indication, a sign which points +to something that was done as to something that had to be done then and +is to be done now. It was done and it was thought that it had to be +done. But what was done cannot be done over again, and what was thought +cannot again be thought. Life knows no past other than the one which it +contains within its living present. The precept has no value excepting +as that precept which we in every single instance intuit, and which we +must intuit, being spiritually alive and free, as the peculiar form of +_our_ thought, of our speaking, of our doing, of our being, in short, +which is our becoming. If we look upon a precept as transcending this +becoming, and as an antecedent to it, we misapprehend and therefore +imperil our indwelling freedom, which for us now ought to mean not +simply the failure to foster the growth of the spirit, but a deliberate +attempt to hinder and thwart its development and to blight the function +of culture. + +One more prejudice of those imputed to realistic instruction must still +be pointed out, and it will be the last. It is one of those time-worn +devices whose history, extending over a thousand years, reflects the +entire life of the school--the composition. Teachers expect and demand +that a predetermined and definite theme, as a nucleus of a thought +organism, as _leit-motif_, so to speak, of a work of art, as a ruling +principle for moral or speculative reflections, be developed by pupils +who may yet have never given the topic a single thought, who may +possibly be not at all attuned to that definite spiritual vibration, who +may in short be quite removed from the line along which the theme should +be developed. In the lower grades the line itself is marked, the entire +contour is given, and the pupil's mind is arbitrarily encompassed within +this fixed outline. These methods are now fortunately applied with +diminished rigour and less crudely than before. But the fact remains +that in all classes the teacher either assigns a theme at random, +picking a topic from a casual reading or from among the whims of his +rambling fancy, or else he conscientiously and carefully studies the +possibilities of a subject, and develops it to a certain extent before +he assigns it; so that he naturally expects the pupil's treatment to +conform to his own delineation; and he values the composition in +proportion as it approaches the rough draft which he had previously +sketched in his mind. + +Here too, as elsewhere, we encounter the difficulty of a thought which +is presupposed to thinking, which therefore binds it, strains it and +racks it out of its healthy and fruitful growth; for thought cannot live +without freedom. The dangers are many that beset us in the practice of +theme-composition, and not all of them of a merely intellectual +character. There is no intellectual deficiency which is not also at the +same time a moral blemish; and a course of exercises, such as we have +considered, not only jeopardises the formation of the intelligence by +urging it along a line of false and empty artificiality to the postiche +and the appliqué, but it also, and far more seriously, threatens the +moral character of the pupils in that it beguiles them into a sinful +familiarity with insincerity, which might perhaps become downright +cheating. + +Composition however in itself is not taboo for the idealist. Like +grammar and every other instrument of the teaching profession it must be +converted from the abstract to the concrete. We should never demand of +the pupil an inventiveness beyond his powers, never unfairly expect of +his mind what it cannot yet give. The boy must not be given a subject +drawn from a world with which he is unfamiliar. But when the subject +springs naturally from the pupil's own soul, in the atmosphere of the +school, and as a part of the spiritual life which unites him to his +teacher and to his classmates, then composition, like every other +element of a freely developing culture, is a creation and an unfailing +progress. For whatever has been frozen by the chill of realism, and has +been consequently made unfit for the life of the spirit, may again be +revived in the warmth of the living intelligence of the concrete, and be +thence idealistically fused with the spontaneous and vigorous current of +spiritual reality. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE UNITY OF EDUCATION + + +Having exemplified the prejudices of realism in the phases that are most +harmful to education, I shall now proceed to discuss the fundamental +corollary of the idealistic thesis as an effective remedy against the +ravages of realism. For, as I have already shown, the realistic +conception of life and culture is by no means a minor error which could +be corrected as soon as discovered. Originating in a primitive tendency +which impels the human spirit on through a realistic phase before it can +freely emerge into the loftier consciousness of self and power (which is +the conquest of idealism), this error again and again crops out of even +the most convinced anti-realistic consciousness. So that if at any +moment our higher reflection slackens its vigilance, the error creeps +back into the midst of our ideas, gains control of our intelligence, and +resumes its former sway over thought. It is not sufficient then to +become aware of the faults of realism and of the prejudices in which it +is mirrored; we must, in addition to all this, strengthen in our minds +the intuition of the spirituality of culture, render it more subtle, +more accurate, more certain, and bring to it the energy of a faith +which, after taking possession of our souls, shall become our life's +character. + +We must therefore look intently at the significance of that principle +which identifies culture with man's personality, notice its most +important consequences, and set these up as the laws of education, +since by education we mean the creation of a living culture which +shall be the life of the human mind. The first and foremost of these +consequences, the direct corollary of our proposition, is the +concept of the _Unity of Education_. Though often referred to, it has +not yet been attained by pedagogical doctrines, nor has it been the aim +of the work of teachers. Neither theory nor practice--more intimately +connected than is ordinarily supposed--shows as yet that this concept +is understood and adequately appreciated. It is opposed with full +force by the realistic conception which, keeping man distinct from +his culture, and materialising this culture, naturally attributes to +it, and to education in which it is reflected, that multiplicity and +fragmentariness which is the characteristic of things material. + +This scrappiness of culture and of education is the error on which all +the prejudices of realistic pedagogy are grounded. It is the enemy that +must be vanquished in the course of the crusade that has been preached +by idealism in its endeavour to liberate instruction from the deadly +oppression of mechanism. But in order to combat this foe we must first +know it: and we must gain a clear understanding of that unity of +education which it antagonises with uncompromising opposition. + +If we open a treatise on pedagogy or examine a schedule of courses, +if we look through a programme or stop to consider our every-day +technical terminology, we cannot help noticing that education is +broken up by divisions and subdivisions _ad infinitum_, exactly as +though it were a material object, which because material possesses +infinite divisibility. Textbooks tell us that education is (1) +physical, (2) intellectual, (3) moral. Then narrowing the subject +down to one section, the intellectual, which for good reasons has +been treated more carefully and sympathetically by traditional +pedagogy, we find some such subdivisions: artistic, scientific, +literary, philosophical, religious, etc. Again, artistic education will +be split up into as many sections as there are arts, and scientific +instruction in the same way; for pedagogy assigns to each branch of +the classification its corresponding method of teaching. It goes without +saying that the sciences of any given branch are different among +themselves, and the study of botany, for example, is not the study +of zoology. And there are as many forms of culture to be promoted by +education as there are sciences; which is clearly shown by school +announcements assigning to certain years, and for definite days and +hours, the several courses of the curriculum, that is, the several +educations. + +It is taken for granted that Education, properly so called, will +result from the ensemble of these particular educations--physical, +intellectual, moral, etc.,--each one of which contributes its share to +the final result, and is therefore a part of the entire education. And +each field produces certain peculiar results which it would be idle +to demand of another section, just as we never expect an olive grove +to yield a crop of peaches. Every part, self-contained and quite +distinct from the rest, absolutely excludes all other parts from +itself. Therefore the subjects taught in a school are numerous, and +there must accordingly be specialised teachers. And again each +instructor must be careful not to mix up the several parts which +compose his subject. The teacher of history, for example, when he takes +up the French Revolution, must forget the unification of Italy, and +treat each event in order and in turn; and the instructor of Italian +will take up the history of literature on a certain day of the week, +and devote some other hour to the study of the individual works +themselves. + +So also we never fail to distinguish and carefully separate the two +parts of the teacher's work, his ability as a disciplinarian and his +skill in imparting information, for it is an accepted commonplace of +school technique that ability to teach is one thing, and the power to +maintain discipline is another. It is one thing to be able to keep the +class attentive to the discussion of a given subject, and quite another +to treat this subject suitably for the needs and attainments of the +pupils. Discipline is considered thus as a mere threshold; the real +teaching comes after. For, it is argued, discipline has no cultural +content; it is nothing more than the spiritual disposition and +adaptation which should precede the acquisition, or if we so wish to +call it, the development of real culture,--a disposition which is +obtained when respect for the authority of the teacher is ensured. + +The recognition of that authority simply means the establishment of a +necessary condition; as for the real work of education, that is yet to +come. And if we should stop at what we have called the threshold, we +should have no school at all. There are teachers, in fact, who keep good +discipline, but who are yet unable to teach, either through lack of +culture or because they are deficient in methods. + +All these are commonplaces to which we often resort without stopping to +consider their validity. And, in truth, it is because of this lack of +consideration that we are able to use them without noticing their +absurdities and without therefore feeling the necessity of emending our +ways. This lack of reflection resolves itself into a lack of precision +in the handling of these concepts. They are formulated without much +rigour with a great deal of elasticity, and in the spirit of +compromising with that truth against which they would otherwise too +jarringly clash. + +First of all, no one has ever conceived the possibility of separating +discipline from education. What is often done is to distinguish +discipline from that part of education which is called instruction, and +to consider the two as integrating the total concept of education. +Mention is often made of the educational value of discipline. But this +kind of co-ordination of the two forms of education--discipline and +instruction--and their subordination to the generic concept of education +are more easily formulated than comprehended. For if we should +distinguish them simply on the grounds that one is the necessary +antecedent of the other, we should have a relationship similar to that +which connects any part of instruction with the part which must be +presupposed before it as an antecedent moment in the same process of +development. But the relationship which exists between any two parts of +instruction cannot serve to distinguish from instruction a thing which +is different from it. + +We might wish, perhaps, to consider as characteristic of this absolute +antecedence the establishment of the authority without which teaching, +properly so called, cannot begin. But the objection to this would be +that every moment of the teaching process presupposes a new authority, +which can never be considered as definitely acquired, which is +constantly being imposed anew, and which must proceed at every given +instance from the effective spiritual action exercised by the teacher +upon the pupil. In other words, I mean to say that no teacher is able +independently of the merits of his teaching to maintain discipline +simply and solely on the strength of his personal prestige, of his force +of character, or any other suitable qualification. For whoever he may +be, and whatever the power by which at the start he is able to attract +the attention of his pupils and to keep it riveted on his words, the +teacher as he begins to impart information ceases to be what he was +immediately before, and becomes to the eyes of his pupils an ever +changing individual,--bigger or smaller, stronger or weaker, and +therefore more or less worthy of that attention and that respect of +which boys are capable in their expectance of spiritual light and joy. +The initial presentation is nothing more than a promise and an +anticipation. In the course of teaching this anticipation must not be +disappointed, this promise must be constantly fulfilled and more than +fulfilled by the subsequent developments. The teacher's personality as +revealed at the beginning must be borne out by all that he does in the +course of the lesson. Experience confirms this view, and the reason of +it is to be found in the doctrine now familiar to us of the spirit that +never _is_ definitely, but is always constituting itself, always +_becoming_. And every man is esteemed and appreciated on the strength +of what he shows himself to be at any given moment, and in virtue of the +experience which we continue to have of his being,--a being which is the +development in which he realises himself. + +So, then, discipline is never enforced definitely and in such a way that +the teacher may proceed to build on it as on a firm basis without any +further concern. And it is therefore difficult to see how we could +possibly sever with a clean cut the task of keeping discipline from the +duty of imparting instruction. + +Nor is it any more plausible to maintain that discipline, though it may +not chronologically precede instruction, is its logical antecedent, in +the sense that there are at every instant of the life of the school both +discipline and instruction, the former as a condition of the latter. The +difficulty here is that if we assumed this, we ought to be able to +indicate the difference between the condition and the conditioned; which +difference, unless we rest content with vague words, is not forthcoming, +and cannot be found. I maintain that were it possible for the teacher +definitely to enthrone, so to speak, discipline in his school, all his +work were done. He would have fulfilled his entire duty, acquitted his +obligation, and achieved the results of his mission, whether we look +upon this mission in the complex of its development, or whether we +consider it ideally in the instant of its determined act, which is yet +a process and therefore a development. For what, in fact, is discipline? +Is it established authority? But this authority is the whole of +education. For authority cannot be, as I have explained before, a mere +claim: it must become actual in the effective action performed by the +educating personality, and this action _is_ education. And when this +education consists, for example, in the imparting of a rule of syntax, +education becomes actual when the pupil really apprehends that rule from +his instructor exactly as it is taught to him, and thus appropriates the +teacher's manner of thinking and his intellectual behaviour on that +special subject, and acts and does as the teacher wants him to. And from +the point of view of discipline, this is all we want at that moment. + +If in the course of education, considered as a whole or at any +particular moment of it, we should separate discipline from instruction, +now turning our attention to the one and now to the other, we know from +experience that we should never get anywhere. As a matter of fact, the +distinction thrusts itself to the fore only when the problem of +discipline is erroneously formulated by treating it abstractly. For who +is it that worries over discipline as such, and as though it were a +thing different from teaching? Who is it that looks upon this problem as +an insoluble one? Only the teacher who, unable to maintain discipline, +frets over it and failing to discover it where it is naturally to be +found, desperately looks for it where it is not, where it could not +possibly be. And so he is helplessly perturbed, like the man who, +feeling upon himself the concentrated gaze of all the guests seated in a +parlour, is no longer able to walk across the floor; it is the same +difficulty and impediment we encounter every time we try to watch and +study our movements. In the same way the spontaneous outburst of +eloquent sentiments that flow from the fulness of our hearts is checked +by the endeavour to analyse them, to study the words--to substitute art +for nature. + +The real teacher, the naturally gifted teacher, never bothers about +these puzzling questions of pedagogical discipline. He teaches with such +devotion; he is so close spiritually to his pupils, so sympathetic with +their views; his work is so serious, so sincere, so eager, so full of +life, that he is never compelled to face a recalcitrant, rebellious +personality that could only be reduced by resorting to the peculiar +means of discipline. The docility of the pupils in the eyes of the able +teacher is neither an antecedent nor a consequent of his teachings; it +is an aspect of it. It originates with the very act by which he begins +to teach, and ceases with the end of his teaching. Concretely, the +discipline which good teachers enforce in the classroom is the natural +behaviour of the spirit which adheres to itself in the seriousness and +inwardness of its own work. Discipline, authority, and respect for +authority are absent whenever it is impossible to establish that unique +superior personality, in which the spiritual life of the pupils and of +the teachers are together fused and united. Whenever the students fail +to find their ideal in the teacher; when they are disappointed by his +aspect, his gaze, his words, in the complex concreteness of his +spiritual personality, which does not rise to the ideal which at every +moment is present in their expectations, then the order of discipline is +lacking. But when this actual unity obtains--this unity which is the +task of the teacher, and the aim of all education--then discipline, +authority, and respect are present as never failing elements. + +This pedagogical problem of discipline would never have arisen if +immature reflection had not distinguished two empirically different +aspects of human personality, the practical and the theoretical, whereby +it would appear that man, when he does things, should not be considered +in the same light as when he thinks and understands, knows and learns. +From this point of view, discipline of deportment is to be referred to +the pupil as practical spiritual activity, while teaching aims at his +theoretic activity. The former should guide the pupil, regulate his +conduct as a member of that special community which we call the school, +and facilitate the fulfilment of the obligations which he has toward the +institution, toward his fellow-pupils, and toward himself. The latter, +on the other hand, assuming the completion of this practical +edification, proceeds to the mental formation of the personality, +considered as progressive acquirement of culture. Discipline in this +system appears to be the morals of the school. I use the word morals in +a very broad sense--just as morality might be considered as the +discipline of society and of life in general. For everybody, it is +argued, distinguishes between the character of man and his intelligence, +between his conduct and his knowledge. The two terms may indeed be drawn +together, but they also exist quite apart. So that a man devoid of +character, or possessed with an indomitable will for evil, may +nevertheless be extremely learned and shrewd, or as subtle as the +serpent; whereas a moral man, through lack of understanding, may become +the sport of rogues, and remain illiterate, devoid of all, even of the +slightest accomplishments. For will is one thing, they say, and the +intellect is another. + +The question of the abstractness of discipline impels us now to examine +the legitimacy of this broader distinction, which does not simply +concern the problems of the school, but extends to the fundamental +principles of the philosophy of the spirit. Under its influence, +contemporary thought attacks all the surviving forms of this ancient +distinction between will and intellect, which rested on a frankly +realistic intuition of the world. The philosopher who crystallised this +distinction, and fastened it so hard that it could not be broken up +completely in the course of all subsequent speculation, was Aristotle. A +thoroughgoing realist, like all Greek philosophers, he conceived reality +as something external and antecedent to the mind which thinks it and +strives to know it. When thought, whose function is the knowing of +reality, is thus placed outside of this reality, it is evident that the +knowledge to which it aspired never could have been an activity which +produces reality. It was accordingly maintained that knowledge could not +be more than a mere survey, a view of reality (intuition, theory), +almost like a reflected image, totally extrinsic to the essence of the +real. But since it was evident that man as spiritual activity does +produce a world of his own, for which he is praised if it is deemed +good, but blamed if it is judged bad, it had to follow that there were +two distinct aspects in human life: one by which man contemplates +reality, the other by which he creates his own world,--a world, however, +which is but a transformation of the true and original reality. These +two aspects are the will and the intellect. + +It should not now be necessary to criticise this concept of a reality +assumed to exist, in antecedence to the activity of the spirit, and +which is the sole support of this distinction between will and +intellect. We might say perhaps that though everything does indeed +depend from the spirit, and though all is spirit, yet this completely +spiritual reality is on one hand what is produced, the realisation of +new realities (will), but on the other hand it is but the knowledge of +its own reality, and by this knowledge gives no increment to its being. +However, if we adopted this view, we would slip back to the position we +abandoned as untenable, since a thought which propounds the problem of +its essence and of the essence of the reality which it cognises can be +but mere knowing. For it is again faced by a reality--even though it has +in this case been arbitrarily presumed identical with it--a reality +which is as an antecedent to it, and leaves to it only the task of +looking on. So we must conclude that the life of the spirit is never +mere contemplation. What seems to be contemplation--that consciousness +which the spirit acquires of itself, and, acquiring which, realises +itself--is a creation: a creation not of things but of its own self. For +what are things but the spirit as it is looked at abstractly in the +multiplicity of its manifestations? + +We shall more easily understand that our knowing and our doing are +indiscernible, if we recall that our doing is not what is also perceived +externally, a motion in space caused by us. This external manifestation +is quite subordinate and adventitious. The essential character of our +doing is the internal will, which does not, properly speaking, modify +things, but does modify us, by bringing out in us a personality which +otherwise would not have been. This is the substance of the will, which +we cannot deny to thought, if thought is, as I have shown, development, +and therefore continuous self-creation of the personality. + +If intellect then and will are one and the same thing, to such an extent +that there is no intellect which in its development is not development +of personality, formation of character, realisation of a spiritual +reality, we shall be able to understand that the ideas of two distinct +spiritual activities, as the basis of the ordinary distinction between +moral and intellectual training, are mere abstractions that tend to lead +us away from the comprehension of the living reality of the spirit. This +distinction appears to me exceedingly harmful, nothing being more +deplorable, from the moral point of view, than to consider any part of +the life we have to live as morally indifferent; and nothing being more +harmful to the school than the conviction that the moral formation of +man is not the entire purpose of education, but only a part of its +content. It is indispensable, I maintain, that the educator have the +reverent consciousness of the extremely delicate moral value of every +single word which he addresses to his pupils and of the profoundly +ethical essence of the instruction which he imparts to them. For the +school which gives instruction with no moral training in reality gives +no instruction at all. All the objections voiced on this score against +education, which we try to meet by adding on to instruction all that +ought to integrate the truly educational function, are the result of +this abstract way of looking upon instruction solely as the culture of +an intellect which in some way differs from the will, from character, +and from moral personality. + +I wish here to call attention to one of the most controverted questions +connected with popular education, because it brings out very clearly the +impossibility of keeping moral education distinct from intellectual +instruction. It is constantly asserted that the instruction of the +common people, that real education which is the main purpose of the +modern state, is not a question of mere reading and spelling; that +these do not constitute culture, but are as means to an end, and +ought never to be allowed to take the place of the end to which they +are subservient. The school therefore, if it cannot shape men, should +at least rough-hew them and give them a conscience, whereas now, it +teaches but often does not educate: it gives to the learner the means of +culture, and then abandons him to his own resources. The optimism of +educators in the eighteenth century, their promise that marvels would +come out of elementary instruction propagated and spread by popular +schools devised for this purpose, was constantly met in the course +of the last century by an ever-growing mistrust of instruction generally +restricted to the notion of mere instrumentality. For in addition to +other shortcomings it was felt that this instrument might be put to a +very bad use; that elementary learning might be a dangerous thing if +it were not accompanied by something that instruction pure and simple +cannot give, namely, soundness of heart, strength of mind, and +conscience strong enough to uphold intelligence by the vigorous and +uncompromising principles of moral rectitude. The hopefulness of that +past optimism is fast yielding ground to the pessimistic denunciation +of the insufficiency of mere instruction for the moral ends of life. + +There is a serious error in this frequent indictment brought against +mere instruction as a means of attaining what is called culture. It +proceeds from the attempt to separate something that was not meant to be +separated. "What God hath united together, man shall not put asunder." +And, in any event, a separation as illegitimate as this is not possible. +Superficially we may distinguish and apparently sunder instruction from +moral training, cut off the means from the end, and separate the ability +to read and write from what we are thereby enabled to read and write. In +fact the letters of the alphabet are taught without teaching the +syllables which they compose, and without the words that are made up of +these syllables, and the thoughts that are expressed by these words, and +man's life which becomes manifest and real in these thoughts. The +elementary school is in fact, as it is in name, the teaching of the +elements. Reading, writing, arithmetic, all subjects called for by the +school programme are taken up as mere elements with which the pupil is +expected, later on, to compose his Book of Life, complete in all its +sections. But in the meantime it is thought unwise to burden his +youthful mind with the weighty and complicated problems that can be +solved only by the experience of a more mature life. Of course after he +has gone forth from the school into the outer world the young man will +look upon this elementary knowledge as the raw material of his future +mentality. As he carves out his path to this or that goal, in accordance +with his spiritual interests and in compliance with the contingencies of +life, he will avail himself of this initial instruction, use it to +further his progress towards this or that end, good or evil as the case +may be. For intellectual instruction, it is argued, can be made +subservient either to noble impulses or to base motives. + +Careful consideration, however, will show that the responsibility of a +school for what is called moral insufficiency, but is in reality +educational defectiveness, cannot be removed by this kind of +considerations. The alphabet begins to be such when it ceases to be a +series of physical marks corresponding to the sounds into which all the +words of a language may be decomposed. The alphabetic symbol is +effectively such when it is a sound, and it is sound when it is an +image, or rather a concrete form of an internal vibration of the mind. +The child begins to see the alphabet when he reads with it. Up to that +time he simply draws images or inwardly gazes at the semblance of +the picture he intends to draw, but he does not read. As soon as the +symbol is read, it becomes a word. That is why every spelling book +presents the letters in the syllables and the syllables in the words. In +this way they cease to be mere scrawls drawn on the paper, and become +thoughts. They may be dim, vague, and mysterious; they may be sharply +defined or they may blend and fuse into a suggestive haze; but they are +in every given instance thoughts that are being awakened in the mind +of the child. These thoughts have in them the power to develop, to +organise themselves and become a discourse. From the simple sentences +and the nursery rhymes of the primer, they grow into an ever-richer +significance. From the sowing to the harvesting, from the green stalk to +the sturdy trunk, it is _one_ life and one sole process. The mind that +will soar over the dizzy heights of thought begins its flight in the +humble lowlands. And it first becomes conscious of its power to rise, +when the life of thought is awakened by the words of the spelling book. + +The moment the child begins reading, he must of necessity read +_something_. There is no mere instrument without the material to which +it is to be applied. The infant who opens his eyes and strives to look +cannot but see something. The "picture," insignificant for the teacher, +has its own special colouring for the child's mind. He fixes his gaze on +it; he draws it within himself, cherishes it, and fosters it with his +fancies. Such is the law of the spirit! It may be violated, but the +consequences of transgression are commensurate with the majesty of this +law. + +Grammars too, like spelling primers and rhetorics and logic and every +kind of preceptive teaching, may be assumed as a form separated from its +contents, as something empty and abstract. The child is taught for +instance that the letter _m_ in _mamma_ does not belong to that word (we +call it a "word," and forget that to him at least it is not a word but +his own mother). That letter _m_, we tell him, is found in other words, +_mat_, _meat_, etc. We show him that it is in all of them, and yet in +none of them. We therefore can and must abstract it from all concrete +connections, isolate and fix it as that something which it is in +itself--the letter _m_. In the same manner we abstract the rule of +grammar from a number of individual examples. We exalt it over them, and +give it an existence which is higher, and independent of theirs. And so +for rhetoric, and so for logic. + +But in this process of progressive abstraction, in this practice of +considering the abstract as something substantial, and of reducing +the concrete and the particular to the subordinate position of the +accessory, life recedes and ebbs away. The differences between this and +that word, between two images, two thoughts, two modes of thinking, of +expressing, of behaving, at first become slight, then negligible, +then quite inexistent, and the soul becomes accustomed to the generic, +to the empty, to the indifferent. It knows no longer how to fix the +peculiarities of things, how to notice the different traits of men's +characters, their interests, their diverse values, until finally it +becomes indifferent and sceptical. Words lose their meaning; they no +longer smack of what they used to; their value is gone. Things lose +their individuality, and men their physiognomies. This scepticism +robs man of his own faith, of his character and personality. The +fundamental aim of education ceases to exist. Abstract education is +no education at all. It is not even instruction. For it does not teach +the alphabet as it really exists, as something inseparable from the +sound, and from the word, and from the human soul! All it gives is a new +materialised and detached abstraction. + +The alphabet is real and concrete, not abstract; it is not a means +but an end; it is not mere form but also content. It is not a weapon +which man may wield indifferently either for good purposes or for +evil motives. It is man himself. It is the human soul, which should +already flash in the very first word that is spelled, if it is read +intelligently. And it ought to be a good word, worthy of the child and +of the future man, a word in which the youthful pupil ought already to +be able to discover himself,--not himself in general, but that better +self which the school gradually and progressively will teach him to +find within himself. So considered, the alphabet is a powerful +instrument of human formation and of moral shaping. It is education. + +For this reason the school must have a library, and should adopt all +possible means to encourage the habit and develop the taste of reading, +since the word which truly expresses the soul of man is not _that_ one +word, nor the word of _that_ one book. A word or a book will always be a +mere fragment of life, and many of them therefore will be needed. Many, +very many books, to satisfy the ever-growing needs of the child's mind! +Books that will spur his thought constantly towards more distant goals, +and his heart and imagination with it. Thus the child grows to be a +man. + +Instruction then which is not education is not even instruction. It +is a denuded abstraction, violently thrust like other abstractions +into the life of the spirit where it generates that monstrosity +which we have described as material culture, mechanical and devoid of +spiritual vitality. That culture, being material, has no unity, is +fragmentary, inorganic, capable of growing indefinitely without in any +way transforming the recipient mind or becoming assimilated to the +process of the personality to which it simply adheres extrinsically. +This mechanical teaching is commensurate with things, and grows +proportionately with them; but it has no intimate relation with the +spirit. He who knows one hundred things has not a greater nor a +different intellectual value from him who knows ten, since the hundred +and the ten are locked up in both in exactly the same way that two +different sums of money are deposited in two different vaults. What +merit is there in the safe which contains the greater sum? The merit +would belong to the man who had accumulated the greater amount by a +greater sum of labour, for it would then be commensurate with work, +which is the developing process itself and the life of the human +personality to which we must always have recourse when we endeavour +to establish values. For as we have seen, nothing is, properly +speaking, thinkable except in relation to the human spirit. + +Whether one reads a single book or an entire library, the result is the +same, if what is read fails to become the life of the reader--his +feelings and his thoughts, his passions and his meditation, his +experience and the extolment of his personality. The poet Giusti has +said: "Writing a book is worse than useless, unless it is going to +change people." Reading a book with no effect is infinitely worse. Of +course the people that have to be transformed, both for the writer and +for the reader (who are not two very different persons after all), are +not the others, but first of all the author himself. The mere reading of +a page or even a word inwardly reconstitutes us, if it does consist in a +new throb of our personality, which continuously renews itself through +the incessant vibrations of its becoming. This then is the all-important +solution,--that the book or the word of a teacher arouse our souls and +set them in motion; that it transform itself into our inner life; that +it cease to be a thing, special and determinate, one of the many, and +become transfused into our personality. And our personality in its act, +in the act, I say, and not in the abstract concept which we may somehow +form of it,--is absolute unity: that moving unity to which education can +in no wise be referred, unless it is made identical with its movement, +and therefore entirely conformant to its unity. + +The man whose culture is limited, or, rather, entirely estranged from +the understanding of life, is called _homo unius libri_. We might just +as well call him _homo omnium librorum_. For he who would read all books +need have a leaking brain like the perforated vessel of the daughters of +Danaus,--a leak through which all ideas, all joys, all sorrows, and all +hopes, everything that man may find in books, would have to flow +unceasingly, without leaving any traces of their passage, without ever +forming that personality which, having acquired a certain form or +physiognomy, reacts and becomes selective, picks what it wants out of +the congeries, and chooses, out of all possible experiences, only what +it requires for the life that is suited to it. We should never add books +upon books _ad infinitum_! It is not a question of quantity. What we +need is the ability to discover our world in books,--that sum total of +interests which respond to all the vibrations of our spirit, which +assuredly, as Herbart claimed, has a multiplicity of interests, but all +of them radiating from a vital centre. And everything is in the centre, +since everything originates there. + +Education which strives to get at the centre of the personality, the +sole spot whence it is possible to derive the spiritual value of a +living culture, is essentially moral, and may never be hemmed in within +the restricted bounds of an abstract intellectual training. There is in +truth a kind of instruction which is not education; not because it is in +no way educative, but because it gives a bad education and trains for +evil. This realistic education, which is substantially materialistic, +extinguishes the sentiment of freedom in man, debases his personality, +and stifles in him the living consciousness of the spirituality of the +world, and consequently of man's responsibility. + +The antithesis between instruction and education is the antithesis +between realistic and idealistic culture, or again, that existing +between a material and a spiritual conception of life. If the school +means conquest of freedom, we must learn to loathe the scrappiness of +education, the fractioning tendency which presumes to cut off one part +from the rest of the body, as if education, that is, personality, could +have many parts. We must learn to react against a system of education +which, conceiving its rôle to be merely intellectualistic, and such as +to make of the human spirit a clear mirror of things, proceeds to an +infinite subdivision to match the infinite multiplicity of things. Unity +ought to be our constant aim. We should never look away from the living, +that is, the person, the pupil into whose soul our loving solicitude +should strive to gain access in order to help him create his own +world. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +CHARACTER AND PHYSICAL EDUCATION + + +The principle of educational unity which I have briefly tried to +illustrate demands a further development in connection with the claims +of physical culture. For after we have unified moral and intellectual +discipline in the one concrete concept of the education of the spirit, +whose activity cannot be cognitive without also being practical, and +cannot realise any moral values except through cognition, it might yet +seem that a complete and perfect system of education should aim at the +physical development as well as at the spiritual. For the pupil is not +solely mind. He has a body also; and these two terms, body and spirit, +must be conceived in such close connection and in such intimate +conjunction that the health of the one be dependent on the soundness of +the other. + +Before elucidating this argument, we must voice our appreciation of the +pedagogical principle by virtue of which the ancient Greeks developed +their athletic education, and which since the Renaissance has for a +different motive been reintroduced into the theory of physical +culture,--a theory which I do not at all oppose, but rather intend to +reaffirm on the grounds of educational unity. This pedagogical +principle evidently originated in the mode of considering the function +of the bodily organism in respect to the human mind, since every time we +scrutinise the interest that has always guided men in the field of +education, we find that at all times the aim of education has been the +development of the mind. Nor could it have been otherwise; for whether +or not in possession of a clear understanding of his spiritual essence, +man spontaneously presents himself and is valued as a personality, which +affirms itself, speaks even though dumb, and says "I." Education begins +as a relation between master and slave, between parent and children. The +slave and the son are not supported and cared for--educated--as simple +brutes, but as beings endowed with the same attributes as the master or +the parent, beings who are therefore able to receive orders or +instructions and build their will out of these,--the will which those in +authority wish to be identical with their own. The superior commands and +therefore demands; the inferior obeys by replying, and he replies in so +far as he is a spiritual subject; and this reply will become gradually +better in proportion as he more fully actualises that spiritual nature +which the master wishes to be closely corresponding to his own. +Philosophy, as well as naïve and primitive mentality, considers man to +be such in so far as he is conscious of what he does, of what he says, +of what he thinks; and also in that he is able to present himself to +others, because he has first been present to himself. + +Man is man in that he is self-consciousness. Even the despicable tyrant +who brutally domineers over the wretch who is forced to submit to his +overbearing arrogance, even he wants his slave to be intelligent, +capable of guessing his thoughts, and refuses to consider him as an +unconscious tool of his whims. The mother who tenderly nurses her sick +child is indeed anxious for the health of the body over which she +worries, and she would like to see it vigorous and strong. But that body +is so endeared to her, because by means of it the child is enabled to +live happily with her; through it his fond soul can requite maternal +love by filial devotion; or in it he may develop a powerful and +beautiful personality worthy to be adored as the ideal creature of +maternal affection. If in the bloom of physical health he were to reveal +himself stupid and insensate, endowed with mere instinctive sensuality +and bestial appetites, this son would cease to be the object of his +mother's fondness, nay, he would arouse in her a feeling of loathing and +revulsion. It is this sense of loathing that we feel towards the brutes, +to the extent that we never can be sympathetically drawn to them, and +that we also feel for the human corpse from which life has departed; for +life is the basis of every psychological relation, and therefore of +every possible sympathy. + +Education is union, communion, inter-individual unification; and unity +is possible only because men spiritually convene. Matter, we have seen, +nature, things, the non-spirit is multiplicity. As soon as the +multiplicity of natural elements begins to be organised, already in +their organism spiritual activity shines forth. In the spirit is the +root and possibility of every unification. It is spirit that unites men. +Education therefore cannot be a social relationship and a link between +men except by being a spiritual tie among human minds. Therefore it is +now, and has at all times been, what it naturally ought to be, education +of the spirit. + +But as we aim at the education of the spirit, we may or we may not take +care of the body; or again we may take care of it in this or that way. +It all depends on what conception we have of the spirit. The ancients +made a great deal of physical culture, and the Greek philosophers of +antiquity considered gymnastics to be the essential complement of music, +including in music all forms of spiritual cultivation. The ancients +never divided the spirit from the physical reality of man: man as a +whole (body and psychic activity) was conceived by them as a natural +being subject to the mechanism which regulates and controls nature. When +Greek psychology fell under the influence of that mystic outlook which +is peculiar to religious belief, the soul, which was opposed to the +body, and which was looked upon as chained and emprisoned in the body, +was sharply distinguished from another soul. That other soul was kept +in contact with the materiality of all natural things, and together with +them was governed by the law of mechanical becoming, that is, of the +transformations caused by motion by which all the parts of matter are +bestirred. This natural soul, susceptible of development, and capable of +gradually rising to the height of the other, of the pure bodiless mind +whose act is the contemplation of truth; this soul imbedded in the body, +which does not therefore give to man a supernatural being, but like all +things of nature comes into the world, grows and dies, incessantly +passing from one mode of being to another, this soul is the one that can +and ought to be educated. The soul which results from the organic +process of the physical body, and which in its development proceeds side +by side with the transformations of the latter, could not be educated +except in connection with the development and improvement of the body. +Human thought, which then had not yet secured the consciousness of its +own irreducible opposition to nature,--the consciousness, in other +words, of its own essential freedom,--seeing itself immersed even as +spiritual substance in the indistinctness of nature, could not look upon +education as upon a problem of freedom which can not admit of nature as +limiting spiritual activity. It was accordingly reduced to conceive this +activity, displayed in dealing with man, as being on the same plane with +the other forms of activity which propose to deal with things of +nature. In a pedagogical naturalism of this sort, the mind could not be +the mind without also being body, and therefore had to include physical +development in its own process. + +But with the advent of Christianity the spirit was sharply dissociated +from nature. The original dualism of law of the spirit and law of the +flesh, of grace and nature, rescued man at the very beginning from the +tyranny of merely natural things, and announced a kingdom of the spirit +which "is not of this world." And it is not in fact "of this world," if +by world we mean what the word ordinarily implies,--the world which +confronts us, and which we can point out to ourselves and to others; the +world which, being the object of our experience, is the direct +antithesis of what we are, subject of experience, free personality, +spirit, Christian humanity. Man, in this Christian conception, in this +opposition to nature and to the experimental world, overcomes what +within his own self still belongs to nature, subdues that part of him +which because natural appears as the enemy of freedom and of the +finality of the spirit; as the seducer and the source of guilty wiles +which clip the wing of man's loftier aspirations and weigh him down into +a beast-like subjection to instinct. He therefore tends to underrate +physical education, and sacrifices it to the demands of the spirit. He +does not completely neglect the question of the behaviour of man +towards physical nature; he could not, since his very dualism is +possible only on condition that he correlate the two terms of the +opposition. But finding that his attempt to attain freedom and realise +his spiritual destiny is thwarted by the natural impulses of the senses, +in which the life of the body is made manifest, he decides to remove +these hindrances and to clear the way which leads to spiritual +salvation. He does then take the body into consideration, but simply to +check its instincts and control its sensuous appetites. By the +discipline of self-mortification, under the guidance of an unbending +will, he subdues the flesh, and subjects it to the exigencies of the +spirit. + +Evidently this subduing discipline is still physical exercise, but in +its own way. The haircloth of St. Francis corresponds in fact to the +club of Hercules, and serves the same purpose. The monsters which are +knocked down by the weapon which Hercules alone could wield torment the +saint of Assisi also; only, they are within him. He even tames the wolf, +but without club or chains, by the mere exercise of his gentle meekness. +These internal monsters are not, properly speaking, in the material +body. If they were, the Saint would not need to worry about them any +more than about the earth under his feet or the sack on his shoulder. +But they are in that body which he feels; they are in that soul which, +with the violence of its desires, the din of its harsh and fiercely +discordant voices, distracts him from the ideal where his life is. They +are in that soul which thrusts so many claims on him, that were he to +satisfy them he would have to part company with his Lady Poverty, and +become once more the slave of things which are not in his power,--of +wealth, which heaps up and blows away; of Fortune, which comes as a +friend and departs as an enemy. He would, in other words, return to a +materialistic conception of life. His Lernæan hydra is in the depths of +his heart, where hundred-headed instinct, with its hundred mouths, tears +the roots of his holy and magnanimous will, eager to resemble the +Saviour in love and self-sacrifice. + +This monster is strangled with the haircloth, when the body is hardened +and trained to self-denial, to suffering, to the repression of all +animal passions which would keep man away from his goal. This +discipline, far from debilitating the body, gives it a new strength, an +endurance which enables man to live on a higher plane than he would if +he followed natural impulses. For this more difficult manner of living, +a robustness and a hardihood are requisite which are beyond the natural +means of the body. The system of physical culture which gives this +stupendous endurance is called asceticism. + +But this system is an abstract one. Man's life is not poverty, since it +is work and therefore wealth. And the mind with its freedom cannot be +conceived of as antagonistic to nature. For as body and as sense, in so +far as we exist and know of our existence, we belong to this nature. +Antagonism and duality import the limitation of each of the opposed +terms and exclude freedom which is not to be found within fixed limits; +for freedom, as we have said, means infinitude. + +The spirit is free only if infinite. It cannot have any obstructing +barrier in its path. It can be conceived as freedom only after it has +overcome dualism, and when in nature itself and in the body we see the +effect of the activity of the spirit. It has no need therefore of walls +within which it might feel the necessity of cloistering itself in the +effort to renounce the outer world. This is not the way to conquer +freedom. A liberty won under such conditions would always be insecure, +constantly threatened, always beleaguered, and therefore a mere shadow +of freedom. The spirit, if it is free, that is, if it is spirit, must be +conterminous with thought, it must extend its sway as far as there is +any sign of life to the last point where a vestige of being can be +revealed to it. Nothing thinkable can be external to it. Whatever +presents itself to it, whether in the garb of an enemy or under the +cloak of friendship, can only be one of its creatures, which it has +placed at its own side, or in front of itself, or against itself. + +This new pedagogical and philosophical view, first disclosed to +Humanism, then enlightened by the genius of the Italian Renaissance, +appears now to us in the full light of modern thought. Superficially it +might seem identical with the classical and naturalistic outlook. In +reality, however, it has made its way back to it only in order to +confirm and integrate the concept of Christian spiritualism and to bring +out its truth. Greek athletics is the training of the body as an end in +itself: it surely serves the cause of the spirit, but only in so far as +the spirit is grafted on the trunk of the physical personality, and to +the extent that it is able to absorb all its vital sap, thereby +subjecting itself to generation and decay, the common destiny of all +natural beings. The physical culture of the ancients is spiritual +discipline, only to the extent that for them the mind too is essentially +body. Modern physical education, at least from the time of Vittorino da +Feltre, is spiritual formation of the body: it is bodily training for +the benefit of the spirit, just as the mediæval ascetic would have it; +but of a spirit which does not intend to bury itself in abstract +self-seclusion away from the existential world, of a spirit which +passing beyond the cloister walls soars over the realm of nature, +induing it and subduing it instrumentally to its ends and as a mirror of +its will. So that for moderns, too, physical culture is spiritual +education, but for the reason that to us the body itself is spirit. Our +science is not merely a speculation of ultra-mundane truths, but rather +a science of man and of man in the Universe, and therefore also of this +nature which is dominated and spiritualised by becoming known, in the +same way that every book that is read is spiritualised. + +This concrete notion of a spirit which excludes nothing from itself +gives concreteness to the Christian conception of physical discipline. +For it aims to turn the body into an obedient tool of the will, not +however of that will which renounces the world, but of that will which +turns to the world as to the field where its battles are fought and won; +to the world which it transforms by its work, constantly re-creating it, +now modifying one part and now another, but always acting on the entire +system, and renewing it as a whole in the intimate organic connection +and interdependence of these parts; to the world which forever confronts +it in a rebellious and challenging attitude, and which it laboriously +subdues and turns into a mirror of its own becoming. + +Modern idealism and ancient naturalism both emphasise, though for +opposite motives, the importance of a positive education in distinction +to the negative discipline inculcated by mediæval asceticism. We said +that to-day we develop the body because the body is spirit. This +proposition runs counter to common sense. But common sense as such +cannot be respected by the thinker unless he first transforms its +content. Our body, we must remember, is not one body out of many. If it +were actually mixed with and lost in the multitude of material things +which surround it, we could no longer speak of any bodies. For all +bodies, as psychologists say, are perceived in so far as they modify +ours and are somehow related to it. Or to put it in a different and +perhaps better way, all other bodies, which we possess as contents of +our experience, form a system, a circle, which has its centre; and this +centre is our body. These first of all occupy space, but a space which +no one of us can think of or intuit otherwise than as a radiating +infinity, the centre of which we occupy with our body. So that before we +can speak of bodies, we must first cognise our own. It is the foundation +and groundwork of all bodies. Justly, therefore, the immanent sense, +profound and continuous, which we have of our body, and whose +modifications constitute all our particular sensations, was called the +_fundamental sentiment_ by our Italian philosopher Rosmini. For our body +is ours only in so far as we feel it; and we feel it, at first, +confusedly or rather indistinctly, without discerning any differentiated +part. We feel it as the limit, the other, the opposite, the object of +our consciousness, which, were it not conscious of something (of itself +as of something), would not be consciousness, would not realise itself. +And it realises itself, in the first place, as consciousness of this +object which is the body. Accurately, therefore, was the body defined +by Spinoza as _objectum mentis_, as object of consciousness. Objectless +consciousness is not consciousness; and it is likewise obvious that the +object of consciousness cannot be such without consciousness. + +The two terms are inseparable, for the reason that they are produced +simultaneously by one and the same act, from which they cannot be +detached and this act is the free becoming of the spirit. + +Our body, this first object of consciousness, as yet indistinct and +therefore one and infinite, is not really in space, the realm of the +distinct, of the multiple, of the finite. It is within our own +consciousness. And it is only by recalling this inwardness that we are +able to understand how it happens that we ("We"--spiritual activity) act +upon our body, animating it, sustaining it, endowing it with our +vigorous and buoyant vitality; constantly transforming it, in very much +the same way that we act on what we easily conceive to be our moral +personality. As we direct our thoughts, and bringing them out of the +dark into the luminous setting of our consciousness, submit them to +scrutiny and correction, to elimination and selection; when we stifle or +feed the fire of our passions; when we cherish ideals, nourish them with +our own life's blood, and sustain them with our unbending resolve; and +again when we quench them in the fickleness of our whims, are we not +constantly creating and variously reshaping our spiritual life, making +it good or bad, that is, eagerly and scrupulously intent on the quest of +Truth or slothfully plunged in ignorance and forgetfulness? + +But our body, this inseparable companion, which is our own self, is no +particular limb, which as such might be removed from us. We remain what +we are, even though mutilated. Each part of our organism is ours, in +that it is fused in the sole and indistinguishable totality of our +living being,--our heart and our brain, as well as the phalanx of a +finger, if perchance we should be unable to live without it, and it +therefore effectively constituted our being. The distinction between +organs that are vital and organs that are not is an empirical one, and +relative to an observation which is true within the limits of ordinary +occurrence. + +If our body is the body which we perceive as ours, it is this one or +that one in accordance with our perception; and this perception +certainly is not arbitrary, but our own, subjective, to the point that, +in an abnormal way, one may cease to be in possession of his body and +thus to be no longer able to live in consequence of the loss of a +finger, or even of a hair. This hair then is a vital part, not because +it is a hair, but because it has been, insanely if you will, assumed and +absorbed in the distinct unity of our body. + +I shall try to make my thought clearer by the use of an example. The +organ of organs, as a great writer once said, is the hand, and we can +look at it from two quite distinct points of view. We may place our hand +on a table by the side of other hands, the hands of persons sitting +around us. We see its shape, its colour, its size, etc.; we compare it +with the others, and we almost forget it is ours, because then we do +not, in act, distinguish it from the remaining ones. In these +circumstances, it is evident that our hand is in our consciousness as a +material object, separated from every essential relationship with +us--with us as we are in the act of looking and comparing. This is the +external point from which we may view our hand. But there is another +one: the hand that picks up the pen as we are about to write is truly +our hand, the instrument of which we avail ourselves in order to ply +another tool which is needed for our work. In these circumstances our +right hand, instead of being for us one in the midst of many, as it was +in the case previously considered, is ours, the only one which we can +possibly use, as we endeavour to carry out our intention of writing, +which intention is our will to realise our personality in that +determined way, since doing a thing always means realising that +personality of ours which does that thing. Our hand in this case +coalesces so completely with our being that without it--the hand already +trained to write--we could not be ourselves. Abstractly, to be sure, we +should be ourselves. But it is the same story over again. What exists is +not the abstract but the concrete. And in the concrete, we, who are +about to write, are this determined personality, in which our will flows +into the hand; and just as we could not in truth distinguish our Self +from our will (we being nothing more and nothing less than this will of +ours), in the same way it would be impossible to distinguish between +"us" and our hand, between our will and our hand. Since the hand now +wields the pen, having perfected its instrumentality by means of this +latter, our will no longer leans upon and terminates in the hand, but it +flows on and presses into the point of the pen itself, through which, if +neither ink nor paper offers resistance, it empties into the stream of +writing. This writing which is read is Thought, whereby the writer finds +himself at the end in front of his own thinking, that is, in front of +himself; that self, which, considering the act materially, he seemed to +be leaving further and further behind, whereas in reality he was +penetrating into it more and more deeply. But in such a case and by the +act itself, can we effectively distinguish between thought, arm, hand, +writing material, the written page, that same page when read, and the +new thought? It is a circle made up of contiguous points, without gaps +or interruptions. It is one sole process, wherein in consequence of a +particular organisation of our personality, we place ourselves in front +of ourselves, and thus realise ourselves. The hand is ours because it is +not distinguished from us, nor, consequently, from the remaining limbs +of our body nor from its material surroundings. + +This, our hand, knows how to write because we have learned how to write: +in exactly the same way that our heart knows how to love, to dare and +renounce, by striving earnestly to see ourselves in others, to repress +the instinctive timidity of excessive prudence, and to break the force +of desire prompted by natural egoism. We are then what we want to be; +not merely in our passions and ideas, but in our limbs too, to the +extent that their being depends from their functions, and their +functions can be regulated by hygiene and exercise, which are our action +and our will. + +There is, of course, a natural datum which we cannot modify, which we +have to accept as a basis for further construction. But this limitation, +imposed on the truths I mentioned above, must be accepted without in any +way renouncing the truth itself, and should be understood by virtue of +both its scientific and moral values. This warning is not merely helpful +in connection with the question now before us, but will always prove +useful on account of its bearing on the many problems which arise from a +spiritualistic conception of life and cause shiftless philosophasters to +shy and balk. It is true that there is a body which we did not give to +ourselves, which therefore is not a product of our spirit, nor part of +its life and substance, but only if we think of the body of the +individual, empirically considered as such. In this sense I am not +self-produced. The son can ascribe to his parents the imperfection that +mars his whole existence, whatever kind of life he may decide to lead. +The man who was born blind may blame his affliction upon cruel nature. +But the child who calls his parents to account, and the man who +complains of nature, is man as a particular; he is one of many men, one +of the animals, one of the beings, one of the infinite things wielded by +_Man_ (that man to whom we must always refer, when we wish to recall +that even if the world is not all spirit, there is at least a little +corner therein set aside for it); he is one of the infinite things which +Man gathers and unifies in his own thought because he is thought. The +particular man is man as he is being _thought_, who refers us to the +_thinking_ man as to the true man. This true man is also an individual, +not as a part but as the whole, and comprehends all within itself. And +in this man, parents and children are the same man. In it men and nature +are, likewise, one and the same, man or spirit in its universality. We +(each one of us) are one and the other of these men; but we are one of +them, the smaller one, only in that we are the other one, the larger +one, and we ought not to expect the small to take the place of the large +and to act in his stead. All our errors and all our sins are caused by +substituting one in place of the other. + +And what is more, the large, the all embracing, the infinite, is +present in the small with all his infinitude. Personality as such, in +its actuality, does not shrink and restrict itself to the singular and +particular man. Within those boundaries which are only visible from +the outside, it internally expatiates to infinity, absorbing in +itself and surmounting all limitations. The man born blind does not +know the marvels and the wondrous beauties of nature which gladden the +eyes and the soul of the seeing man. But his soul pours out none the +less over the infinity of harmonies and of thought. And the blind man +who once saw, in the consciousness of his sightlessness, cherishes the +boundless image of the world once seen, and magnifies it indefinitely +by the aid of the imagination. He even heals the wounds and soothes +the pain of blindness by making it objective through reflection; and +the personality, at any event, always victoriously breaks out of the +narrow cell in which it might seem to be confined. So that in the +depths of even the gloomiest dungeon a ray of light always peers +through, to lighten and comfort the soul of man in misery, and to +restore to him the entire and therefore infinite liberty of creating +for himself a world of his own. + +We can therefore say that man, he that lives--not the one which is seen +from the outside, but the thinking and the willing man, who is a +personality in the act--never submits to a nature which is not his own. +He shapes his own nature, beginning with his body, and gradually from +it magnifying the effect of his power, and crowding the environing +space, which is his, with the creatures he gives life to. We must not +consider the smaller man whom we see confined to a few square feet and +at the mercy of the passing instant. We must intently look upon that +other one who has done and still continues to do all the beautiful +things on which we thrive, on that one who is humanity, the spirit. We +must consider his power, which is thought and work (work, that is, as +thought); and ponder over this material world in which we live, all +blocked out, as it is, measured, and traversed by forces which we +bridle, accumulate and release, at pleasure,--this world which has been +altered from its former state, and has been made as we now see it fit +for human habitation, which has been joined to us, assimilated to our +life, spiritualised. When we have done all this we shall see how +impossible it is to disconnect nature from the spirit, and to think the +former without the latter. Nature may be dissociated from the natural +man, that is, one of its parts may be isolated from the remainder. But +such man of nature is not the one who rules over nature: he is not Volta +who clutches the electric current and transforms the earth; he is not +Michel Angelo who transfigures marble and creates the Moses. + +Physical education, then, is not superadded to the education of the +spirit, but is itself education of the spirit. It is the fundamental +part of this education, in as much as the body is, in the sense we have +used the words, the seat of our spiritual personality. Living means +constructing one's own body, because living is thinking, and thinking is +self-consciousness; but this consciousness is possible only if we make +it objective, and the object as such is the body (our body). For as +consciousness is, so is the body. There is no thinking which is not also +doing. Thinking not only builds up the brain, but the rest of the body +besides. We may call it will, but then there is not one single act of +thought which is not the mental activity indicated by this word "will." +Without will we should have no bodily substance, in as much as the body +is always and primarily life, and living is impossible without willing. +What are called involuntary movements are not really such; they differ +from the so-called voluntary in that they are constant, immanent, so +much so that we can after all interrupt them. Without the exercise of +our will we could never hold ourselves erect and keep our feet, but +would forever be stumbling and falling; unless we willed it, the power +which keeps every organ in its place, and maintains all the organs in +the circle of life, would be annihilated. Therefore _morale_, as they +say, is a very considerable aid in curing the diseases of the body. It +is on this account that societies and religious sects have arisen which +make of moral faith an instrument of physical well-being. For the same +reason, also, it is impossible for the psychiatrists to draw a line +separating mental troubles from bodily ailments. The force of the will, +the vigour of the personality, the impulse of the spirit in its +becoming, this is the wondrous power which galvanises matter and +organically quickens it; which sustains life, equips it, and fits it for +its march towards ever renewed, ever improved finalities. It is not +temperament which is the basis of character, but character which is the +basis of temperament. If we reverse this proposition, every moral +conception of life becomes absurd, and every spiritual value appears +ineffectual. Don Abbondio then ceases to be wrong, and Cardinal Federico +Borromeo is no longer right. + +Character too is an empirical concept, and like all such concepts, it +has a truthfulness which is not clearly discernible, but dimly visible. +Character signifies rational personality, using the term rationality to +mean, not the movement or the becoming which belongs peculiarly to +reason as the form of spiritual activity, but the coherence of the +object on which this activity is fixed, which coherence in turn consists +in the harmony whereby it is possible to think all the parts of +objective thought as forming a single whole, in that there is no +conflict or contradiction among them, and in as much as the object +remains always the same throughout all these particulars. If in the +course of reasoning we introduce conflicting statements which cannot +possibly be referred to the same thing, we cannot be said to reason. +Rationality is the permanence of the being of which we think: it is +firmness of conception, stability of a law which we apply to all +particulars that come under its sway. For the object of consciousness is +characterised, in respect to the act which constitutes it, by this +stability and immutability. What we think is _that_ and no other, +whereas thought, by which we think it, is a becoming and a continuous +change. + +But the character of man is in the object, in the contents of his +thought, in what he gradually builds himself up to, in the determined +personality which he constitutes by thinking, or, in other words, _in +his body_. But body, be it remembered, in an idealistic sense, body as a +system, forming, with its law and its configuration, the solid basis of +every ulterior development. This truth, vaguely accepted by common +sense, which looks upon a strong constitution as a preliminary to a +sound character, will appear in its full light only after it has been +stripped of the fantastic and material attributes which it receives from +a realistically vulgar way of conceiving the body materially. For it is +evident that a feeble and sickly man may yet have a steel-like +character. Farinata, who stands "erect with breast and brow," as though +he held Hell in contempt: Giordano Bruno, who amidst the flames that +already consume his flesh disdainfully turns his eyes from the symbol of +the religion which had thrust him on the stake, are evident examples of +a strength of mind with no relation to their physical powers, which were +already destroyed or about to be scattered by an irresistible might. +Leopardi is right when he scornfully protests that his ill health is not +the cause of that sad pessimism which in his mind solemnly challenges +"the unseemly hidden Power." + +Character is physical robustness to the extent that this latter is +spiritual haleness, and in so far as it is compact, firm, steadfast +thought. Thought in this respect appears externally as body, not subject +to the hostile forces that perpetually beset it from without and from +within; and on account of the intrinsic spirituality of its substance, +it is a law rather than a fact, and a process or a tendency rather than +a fixed and established manner of being. For organic endurance, which is +really what we mean by health, does not consist in muscular development +or in the bloom of an exuberant constitution, but rather in an +indwelling power, in dynamically persistent and tenacious struggle and +adaptation, in the capacity of self-preservation, of self-affirmation, +which is the specific essence of spiritual being. + +This body, in which thought organises and consolidates itself; this +body, by means of which thought is enabled to press on its vigorous +development, reabsorbing in its actual present the past accomplishment, +and to proceed on its ascent, scaling the height step by step, never +sliding downward, because every grade it builds remains as a firm +support of the next one;--this is man's character, which is not an +attribute of the will considered as practical activity in +contra-distinction to theoretic activity. Character is an attribute of +the spirit _qua_ spirit, without any adjectives. We may, if we will, +distinguish the practical from the theoretical man, the soundness of the +will from intellectual originality. But just as it is not possible to +conceive of a really fruitful and constructive practical activity +without that coherence of design and self-supporting volitional +continuity which constitute character, in the same way intelligence and +ingenuity will not become manifest without firmness of purpose, without +persevering reflection and study of the object, and without stability of +this object of intellectual activity, which again constitute character. +If character is set as the basis of morality, then every science and +every form of culture, even those which aim at evil, considered in +themselves, as the life of the intelligence must have a moral value, +must be governed by an inviolable law. By spiritual steadfastness, which +is the condition of spiritual productivity, man sacrifices himself to an +ideal and constitutes his moral personality, whether he die for his +country or whether he labour to bring light amid his thoughts. Life in +all its phases is the untiring fulfilment of duty. + +To conclude then, physical education must be encouraged, but as +spiritual training and as formation of character. Gymnastic exercise, +therefore, far from being the only way to this end, may even lead in the +opposite direction; and it will do so as long as it is considered apart +from the remainder of education, with a particular scope of its own, and +with heterogeneous contents in respect to spiritual education properly +so-called. The teacher of physical education must always bear in mind +that he is not dealing with _bodies_, bodies to be moved around, to be +lined up, or rushed around a track. He too is training souls, and +collaborates with all the other teachers in the moral preparation and +advancement of mankind. If, in addition to his special qualifications, +he does not possess culture enough to enable him to discern the spirit +beyond the body, and to understand therefore the moral value of order, +of precision, of gracefulness, of agility, by which man externally +realises his personality, he will no doubt fulfil the ordinary demands +of physical culture, but he will just as certainly antagonise and +disgust those of his pupils who are most highly gifted and otherwise +better trained, and he can therefore lay no claim to the title of +educator. + +Education then is either one or not effective. The assumption that there +are many kinds of education leads to very disastrous results. Education +is one; and as a whole it appears unchanged in each one of the parts +that we ordinarily distinguish in it, according as we approach the human +spirit now from one side and now from the other. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE IDEAL OF EDUCATION + +ART AND RELIGION + + +We have shown in the previous chapters the necessity of rigorously +maintaining the unity of education, of resisting every attempt at +separation, of opposing all systems which treat the various parts of +education as though they could be kept distinct in practice and theory. +There still remains a question which naturally arises at this juncture, +and which we must try to answer. For true it is, some one might say, +that moral and intellectual education are one and the same thing, and +true it may be that education of the mind and culture of the body work +for the same results; and it may also be admitted that education being +formation, or development, that is, the becoming of the spirit, and the +spirit consisting in its becoming or rather in becoming pure and simple, +it follows that education means spirit and nothing more. But granting +all this, was it really worth while? When we have attained this notion +of the unity which is always the same, no matter under how many aspects +it may present itself, what have we gained? Have we here anything more +than a word? One says "spirit," another might say "God," or "nature," +or "matter," or some such thing, and there would not be much difference. +It might well be that in the course of the inquiry into the attributes +of the spirit, a way was found to invest our word with quite a different +meaning; but still, after we have defined and distinguished the concept +of the spirit from all the others, we have not progressed much. We may +have the satisfaction of continuing to see before us this concept, with +no possibility of ever ridding ourselves of its presence, but how much +will we know of the contents that this spirit is supposed to have? What +are the principles that should govern this education, which has been +clearly stated to be not a natural fact, but a free action, and +therefore a selection enlightened by consciousness, by reflection, and +by reason? + +This suggested objection is not a purely imaginary one. Very often +superficial critics, forgetting that pedagogical problems pertain to +philosophy and are therefore problems of the spirit, awkwardly try to +solve them by the insufficient light of common sense. In so doing they +warn us that in idealistic pedagogics all particular and definite +concepts vanish, and what remains is a vague confused indistinctness of +no practical utility to the teacher. + +And truly, if the only result obtained by idealistic pedagogics were the +demonstration that many concepts, ordinarily considered to be +substantially different, are in reality identical, we should not +hesitate to call such philosophical knowledge useless and ridiculous. +But in the first place we must notice that this assumed deficiency +charged against us has partially been shown to be non-existent by the +exposition of our doctrine, which reduces education to free spiritual +becoming, and resolves the apparent multiplicity of educational forms in +the immultiplicable unity of this becoming, outside of which nothing is +truly conceivable. + +For the defect of our system was assumed in connection with an exigency +which divides itself into two parts, respectively corresponding to the +form and to the matter of education. For many of the pedagogical errors +which we have pointed out were seen to be imputable, not to the choice +of an unsuitable content of education, but to the criterion adopted in +treating this content. I have already spoken of my disinclination to +accomplish a mere negative task; and in the last chapter, while +denouncing the materialistic conception of physical education, I +certainly did not spare the ascetic view which knows of no body other +than the one which harasses the spirit and hinders its progress toward +the ultimate good; and thereupon I tried to show that physical culture +is spiritual education endowed with that self-same nature which belongs +to education when considered as formation of the will and of the +intellect. But this does not mean that our thesis reduces itself to a +mere theoretic transvaluation or to a new abstract interpretation of +our present educative system, which however in practice could not be +affected by this purely theoretical difference of interpretation. I +tried to make it clear that our conception is not devoid of practical +import, and that it does lead to a reform in education and to a new +orientation of the school. This was especially brought out in connection +with physical culture in the preceding chapter, when I insisted on the +necessity that physical instructors be trained in such a way that their +mental equipment shall not be limited to notions that refer exclusively +to the body in its physical limitations: but that in addition to +physiology, anatomy, and hygiene, they be made familiar also with those +studies and disciplines that are more intimately connected with +character, with the soul, and with the mind. + +But besides this, our entire investigation dealing with the reasons for +an absolutely spiritualistic conception of education should have made it +very clear that it is not possible to entertain these new conceptions +without introducing in the school a new spirit, which will not yield to +the realistic vogue and to the materialistic, pedantic, old-fashioned +education,--a spirit which will bring before us a new duty in every +instant of our teaching life and in every word we utter, and which will +impress us with the necessity of acting differently from what has been +taught by the followers of traditional pedagogical routine. Whatever +the subject may be, the form of education has to be in accord with +something that should by now be the common possession of us all, namely, +the consciousness of the intimate spirituality and of the sacred freedom +of our work, which operates not in the material schools but within the +souls of our pupils. There it gives rise not to incidents that are +unessential to that greater world which is the aim of our religiously, +serious outlook on life, but to a process in which All is involved. The +speculative side then of this form of education is not a useless and +abstract theory, but a necessary moment of the moral improvement, of the +spiritual enhancement, and of the general regeneration of teaching. +Indifference to this reform, and the belief that men may continue to +educate without bothering with the subtle problems of philosophy, mean a +failure to understand the precise nature of education. + +But the question of the content of education is a different one. Having +identified education with spiritual reality itself, it follows that the +two determinations of the content of the latter belong to the content of +the former. One of these determinations is historical in character; it +advances as the history of the human mind progresses, assuming now this +and now that aspect in accordance with the prevailing spiritual +interests. We who have censured the conception of pre-established +programmes, as being most dangerous prejudices of pedagogical realism, +could not very well presume to determine here in the abstract, the +content of every possible form of education for all places and all +times. The school, like every other form of education, develops; and as +it grows, it constantly changes its content, which again is nothing else +than the content that the spirit gives to itself at every moment of its +concrete development. + +It would be just as irrational to expect a school to map out with +precision the limits and the scope of a pupil's culture. Of all the +culture carved out for him at school, a boy will absorb only that much +which is taken up by the autonomous growth of his personality. This will +be supplemented and integrated by the culture which he gets outside of +the classroom, in all possible walks of life, and will be so personal +and of such a character as to admit of no prevision or pre-determination +even on the part of the learner himself. Away with pre-established +programmes then of any description! Spiritual activity works only in the +plenitude of freedom. Horace asks: _Currente rota cur urceus exit?_ We +answer: Whether an _urceus_ or not, what always comes from the _rota_ is +something which cannot be foreseen, for the very simple reason that what +is foreseen is not the future but the past, which we (as in the case of +experimental sciences) project into the future, whereas the spirit is a +creation which occurs not in time but in a never-setting present. + +So every abstract discussion of the possible content of education in +general, or of any given particular school, must appear crude and +absurd, if we recall that education reflects the historical development +of the spirit. What we need to do is to wait, observe, and have faith. +For God will reveal himself to us; and God is the very Spirit of ours +which at every moment prescribes its law to itself and thus determines +its own content. + +The other of the two determinations mentioned above is the _ideal_, or, +as we perhaps might more precisely call it, the _transcendental_. It +pertains to that spiritual content which never changes as it passes +through the various historical determinations, and which might therefore +be styled the "determiner of the intrinsic and absolute essence of the +spirit." This content upon careful consideration reveals itself as form, +and more precisely as the form of the historically determined content of +the spirit; or again as the concreteness of that form which has been +attributed to the spirit considered in itself, which is a becoming. But +_qua_ becoming, and irrespective of all special aspects with which it +historically configures itself, the spirit has already a content of its +own, which cannot be absent from any of its historical configurations. +In them this content will manifest itself over and over again, but +constantly modified by the changes that are being historically produced. +Under these varying modes and presentations it permanently abides as +the indefectible substance of the spirit. This substance, this ideal +spirit which becomes actual in history, cannot be ignored by any kind of +pedagogics which aspires to a thorough knowledge of the essence of +education. + +Having thus formulated the problem, and clinging firmly to the principle +of educational unity, we may distinguish the forms of education which +proceed from the ideal content of the spirit. But we must always +keep in mind that, as these forms are only distinguishable ideally, +they can in no way be effectively separated, and must be found in +every concrete educative act. So that their synthesis and their +complete immanence is the concreteness of educational unity in its +opposition to what I have called fragmentary education. Our distinction +then will turn out to be an exact logical analysis, which analyses only +the terms of a synthesis and cannot therefore be dissociated from the +synthesis. By analysing and by synthesising, by determining the +spiritual unity without disconnecting or in any way dissociating its +intrinsic ideal determinations, we strive to represent the ideal of +education. + +In making a rapid survey of this analysis, I must refer back to what was +said of the attributes of the spirit,--that the spirit _is_ in that it +_becomes_, that it becomes in so far as it acquires self-consciousness, +that its being therefore is consciousness in the act of being acquired. +This act is surely self-consciousness, and it does mean cognition, but +a cognition which differs from all others in that it has for its object +that very one who cognises. And this is the meaning of "I," identity of +subject and object,--an identity, however, that because of its curious +nature needs to be carefully examined. It was shown in a preceding +chapter that two things, to be thought as two, must yet be thought as +one by virtue of the unique relationship which makes their duality +possible. Here we observe the inverse: identity of subject and object +means that in addition to the subject there is--nothing; it means +therefore unity. And yet this unity would in no manner be intelligible +if it were not also a duality, if, in other words, the identity of +subject and object were not also the difference between them. + +To distinguish A from B, an initial, elementary minimum difference is +required. It is the difference, called _otherness_, by which B is other +than A. Without this otherness there would not be A and B, but either A +alone or B alone. The subject as it knows itself is certainly not +another from the subject alone. But if it did not become _other_ to +itself, if it were not object also, as well as subject, it would never +know itself. To be object as well as subject implies the necessity of +distinguishing these two terms, and shows that there is otherness +between them. If it sounds harsh to speak of something that first is +"_one_" and then is "_two_," we might state the situation in a +different and perhaps simpler way. We might say that the subject would +not know itself, if remaining always that one and self-same subject, it +were not both subject and object to itself. + +Consciousness implies this self-alteration of the subject, which by +placing itself as an object in front of itself realises itself, it being +real only as self-consciousness. This is the import of the identity of +the two terms, subject and object; or of the difference intrinsic to the +one, which is but another way of stating it. We may insist as much as we +want on the identity of the "I," but it will always be true that this +"I" is real only in virtue of its intrinsic difference. And conversely +we may insist, as it is more often done, on the difference between the +subjective moment of the "I," whereby the "I" is set in opposition to +all its objects, and the objective moment in which the ego vanishes. But +behind the difference, identity is always to be found. Man, the more he +thinks, the more he alters himself, the more objective that reality +becomes which he realises by self-consciousness, the more fully he sees +the variation, the development, the growth, the enhancement of the +object--the world he knows. + +The spirit's being is its alteration. The more it _is_,--that is, the +more it becomes, the more it lives,--the more difficult it is for it to +recognise itself in the object. It might therefore be said that he who +increases his knowledge also increases his ignorance, if he is unable +to trace this knowledge back to its origin, and if the spirit's rally +does not induce him to rediscover himself at the bottom of the object, +which has been allowed to alter and alienate itself more and more from +the secret source of its own becoming. Thus it happens, as was said of +old, that "He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." All human +sorrow proceeds from our incapacity to recognise ourselves in the +object, and consequently to feel our own infinite liberty. + +Subject then and object, and in their synthesis, in their living unity, +the spirit, which therefore is neither a subject standing against an +object, nor its opposite. The two terms, each one for itself, isolated, +are equivalent. But every time human thought has isolated them, whether +striving to conceive itself, its own spiritual substance, objectively +(God), or as a simple subject (a particular man), it has ever reached +most desperate conclusions, now totally blocking its way to the +comprehension and justification of its own subjectivity, and now +secluding itself in an abstract subjectivity, removed from _all_ which +man theoretically and practically needs in order to live. The reality of +the spirit is not in the subject as opposed to the object, but in the +subject that has in itself the object as its actuality. + +It is on account of this inseverable unity, by which the subject presses +to itself the object and becomes actual therein, that the progressive +alteration of the object is also the progressive alteration of the +subject. At every given moment, the subject, altered as it is, made into +the "other" or determined, is yet pure subject, and nothing else than +the subject which becomes conscious of itself, and therefore actual by +determining itself as subject of its object, in such a way that the +subject as well as the object is always new and always different. Not +because it is now one subject and now another, in which case succession +and enumeration would import multiplicity, and would therefore reduce +the spirit to a thing; but because it appears and cannot but appear +thus, if observed from the point of view which distinguishes one +individual from another, and in the same individual one instant from the +next, although from a rigorously idealistic point of view the spirit is +one, and its determinateness does not detract from its absolute +originality. + +This dialectic in which the spiritual becoming unfolds itself (subject, +object, and unity of subject and object), this self-objectifying or +self-estrangement aiming at self-attainment,--this is the eternal life +of the spirit, which creates its immortal forms, and determines the +ideal contents of culture and education. The spirit's self-realisation +is the realisation of the subject, of the object, and of their +relationship. If of these three terms (the third being the synthesis of +the first and second) any one should fail, the spiritual reality would +cease to be. + +This threefold realisation admits empirically of a separation that makes +it possible to have one without the others. On the strength of this +triple division we speak of art, of religion, and of philosophy, as +though each one of them could subsist by itself. So that commonly people +believe that it is possible to be a poet without in any way burdening +one's mind with religion or philosophy,--especially philosophy, which +appears to be the bugbear of most poets. In the same way many +philosophers, and among them one of the very greatest, held art to be +the negation of philosophy, to the point that it should be banished from +the kingdom where the latter was expected to reign. And how often has +religion taken up arms, now against poetry, and now against speculation! +All of these occurrences were possible because the three terms were +looked upon as separable, as though they were three material things, +each one of which could be what it was only on condition that it +excluded the others. + +A superficial understanding of the differences intervening between these +three terms is the reason why they are often looked upon as separable. +But in reality they are so indissolubly conjoined, that separation would +destroy their spiritual character, and put in its place mechanism, which +is the property of all that is not spirit. + +Art is the self-realisation of the spirit as subject. Man becomes +enfolded in his subjectivity, and hears but the voice of love or other +inward summons. Living without communication with the world, he refrains +from affirming and denying what exists and what does not exist. He +simply spreads out over his own abstract interior world, and dreams; and +as he dreams, he escapes from the outer bustle into the seclusion of his +enchanted realm, which is true in itself until he issues from it and +discovers it to be a figment of his phantasy. This man is the artist, +who, we might say, neither cognises nor acts, but sings. + +His subjectivity appears empirically to us always as a determined +subjectivity, the determination of which proceeds from the object in +which the spirit, theoretically and practically, has previously +objectified itself. But this priority of the act, by which the artist is +considered a man of this objective world before he withdraws into +his dreams, is a mere empirical appearance. If we relied on it, we +could not preserve to the spirit in its artistic life that originality +and autonomy, that absolute spontaneity and freedom, which is the +essential character or, as we called it, the attribute of spiritual +activity. To become objective, the spirit must first be subject; and in +front of the object in which it objectifies itself, it again inevitably +becomes subject,--an ever determined one indeed, but nothing else than +a subject. That is why the contemporary theory of aesthetics holds that +form in art absorbs in itself the content, with no residuum. It +absorbs it _qua_ subjectivity; for whatever the object be which this +subjectivity, empirically considered, has enwrapped, it draws it +entirely over to itself, reassumes it, and as pure subjectivity it +cannot return to its object without passing through the moment of its +opposition to the object,--the moment in which the subject is +nothing else than subject, and finds in itself infinite gratification. +This is the realm of art, a realm from which the spirit, in consequence +of the very function of the subject, is compelled to issue; since +the subject is subject in that it issues from itself, becomes +self-conscious, objectifies itself. So the poet as he dreams breathes +life into the personages of his dreams, builds them up, and gives +them reality. What is his own abstract subjectivity he chooses as a +world in which he himself may live absolutely; and the ideas which +mature in that fantastic world of his--which is nothing more, as I +have said, than his abstract subjectivity--are affirmed by him without +any reserves, and are opposed to the ideas of philosophers and of +men who prefer concrete reality to phantasy. + +This lyrical bent, peculiar to the artist who enhances himself by +exalting his own abstract individuality, is in direct contrast with the +tendency of the Saint, who crushes and annihilates this same +individuality in the face of his God,--that God who infinitely occupies +his consciousness as the "other" in absolute alterity to him, so that +the subject is hurled into the object in a total self-abstraction. It +sinks in the contemplation of its own self in its objective "otherness," +of itself become the other, in which it no longer recognises itself. So +he deifies this other self, places it on the altar, and kneels before +it. Thus the saint's personality is nullified; or rather, it is +actualised and realised in this self-annulment, which is the theoretical +and practical characteristic of mysticism and the specific act of +religion. + +It is not possible to tear art from the spirit's life, in as much as it +could not be the synthesis it actually is without being subjectivity. It +is equally impossible for the spirit to be completely devoid of +religiosity. The mystic flower of faith grows out of the bosom of +art,--a faith in an object which draws the soul to itself and conquers +it. The life of the spirit is an eternal crossing from art to religion, +from the subject to the object. It is impossible for the artist to +realise his art in unalloyed purity, since his world, the world he has +created for himself, is nevertheless the bigger world, out of which, +empirically speaking, he is driven only by the needs of practical life, +which awaken him and remind him of the existence of a wider world. In +the same way it is impossible to realise a pure religion in which the +subject completely and effectually might annihilate itself. For in the +measure that faith increases in intensity, and the sentiment of one's +own nothingness grows deeper, and the idea that the object is all +becomes more obsessing, in that same measure the energy of the spirit +increases, of the spirit as the subject that has been powerful enough to +create this situation. Altars must be built in order that people may +kneel in front of them. The concept of God, it, too, has a history. And +from this history no word can be taken away on the assumption that it +was immediately _revealed_. For there is no word which pre-exists as +such before the act of him who cognises it. And to fix a dogma, that is, +to rescue it from the flow of evolution, we should have to withdraw from +the course of evolution the men themselves who are to accept it. + +Nothing therefore is more impious than the history of religion, in the +course of which man, now dragging his God down to the depths of his +apparent misery, now lifting him to the heights of his real greatness, +progresses from station to station along the unending way of sorrows and +joys. The process of mental development shows unwittingly, by the very +acts of man's innocent piety, that God is _his_ God, that the life of +the object is the same as the life of the subject. + +The nature then both of art and of religion implies a flagrant +contradiction which comes to this,--that the subject to be subject is +object, and the object to be object is subject. Hence the torments of +the poet and the spasms of the mystic. A perfect art and a perfect +religion, that is, art which is not religion, and religion which is not +art, are two impossibilities. This does not mean that either art or +religion can ever be superseded and left behind as two illusions, +ancient and constant, if we will, but none the less devoid of all value. +The very contrary of this is true. Just because there is no pure art, +religion is eternal; and art is eternal, because religion cannot be +attained in its absolute purity. + +The concrete spirit is neither subject nor object. It is a +self-objectifying subject, and an object which becomes the subject in +virtue of the subjectivity that alights on it as it realises it. The +spirit is therefore a becoming. It is the synthesis, the unity of these +two opposites, ever in conflict and yet always intimately joined. And +the spirit, as this unity, is the concreteness both of art (reality of +the abstract subject) and of religion (reality of the abstract object). +It is philosophy. Many definitions have been given of philosophy, and +all of them true, because directly or indirectly they may, on the +strength of what is expressed or what is understood, be reduced to the +following definition: that philosophy is the spirit. If we say that it +is the science of the spirit, we indulge in a useless pleonasm. For +science, unless we distinguish in an absolute manner (which is +impossible) one grade of determinateness from the other, is the same as +consciousness; and spirit is, as we have seen, self-consciousness. If we +say that philosophy is the science of reality in its universality, we +lose sight of the fact that reality, for those who do not stray off into +the maze of abstractness, _is_ the spirit. A definition which has never +lost its value is that one which makes philosophy consist in the +elaboration of concepts, that is, in the unification of all the concepts +(those we possess, of course) into a coherent concept. This is an +excellent definition, and it warns us that philosophy is not obtained by +stopping before abstractions, no matter what these abstractions may be. +All particular things are abstractions, each one of which yields a +concept, and all of them give a number of concepts, which must be +brought together and unified, if we ever intend to think all things that +are thought, and thus philosophise. The subject without the object as +the artist wants it is an abstraction; and similarly abstract is the +object which religion looks up to. + +We are accustomed, not without reason, to distinguish the life of the +spirit from philosophy. But the reason, instead of destroying, confirms +the identity between spirit and philosophy, and for the following cause. +The spirit never being what it ought to be, we live acquiring +consciousness of ourselves. But when we pause to ask ourselves if we +have really obtained this consciousness, and turn to our life as to the +subject-matter of this problem, which is the problem of philosophy, we +discover that we cannot answer in the affirmative. For answering is +spiritual living, a living, therefore, which consists not in having +self-consciousness but in acquiring it. So that philosophy does not +arise from the need of understanding the life already lived, for the +past is the realm of death; but rather from the much keener desire of +living, of leading a better life, a true life, and of finally realising +this spiritual reality which is our ideal. But when? + +Can we believe that there is ever going to be a philosophy which will +definitely fulfil the ideal? It is obvious that a pursuit of such +philosophy would lead the spirit into a race to death; whereas on the +contrary the spirit is life; it is an impulse to ever more intense +living. + +This philosophy, it is evident, is not the exclusive, esoteric classroom +discipline, the professional privilege of a few specialists. It is +rather the source from which this professional speculation derives its +right to address all men who have an exalted sentiment of their human +dignity, who hearken to the deeper utterances of their souls, who are +able to see how much of their own self there is in this vast world which +is being disclosed to their eyes; who, even though vaguely and timidly, +are conscious of the divine power that resides in every human heart; who +feel that this human heart, prone though it be to all baseness, is also +capable of lifting itself to the most sublime heights, and of enjoying +the pure and lofty satisfactions which human phantasy ordinarily +relegates to heaven. In the depths of every mind there is a philosophy: +the mind itself is untiring speculation, which more or less successfully +scales the height, but which is always turned upward to the summit +whitened by the rising sun. Life is made human by the rays of this +philosophy. Man is really man when he recognises an object which is the +world, reality, law, and when he recalls that nothing absolves him from +the duty of being in this world; of seriously being in it, which means +working and coöperating towards reality by knowing reality and +fulfilling the law. For in his freedom and power he can never divest +himself of his own responsibility; he must therefore develop his +capacity to the utmost value, and to that end work and work, think, and +act as the centre of his world. This philosophy does not allow him +either to withdraw into the abstract retirement of his egoistic self, or +to deny and sacrifice this self to an imaginary reality. This philosophy +is never finished, never completed, for it is his own spirit, his very +self, which to live must grow, and which must constitute itself as it +develops. And therefore this philosophy cannot help being man's ideal, +which is always being realised and which is never fulfilled. + +So, then, education, which aims at that concrete and truly real unity +which is the life of the spirit, must always be moral, always spiritual, +always philosophic. An invidious word, perhaps, for those who have had +the misfortune to fall into the mean and vulgar habit of grinning and +scoffing in retaliation for the unsparing censure inflicted by the ideal +on sloth, presumption, and cowardice. We might perhaps replace this word +by "integral," excepting that this adjective is generic and therefore +inappropriate. + +I must add, however, that in speaking of philosophic education, I do not +mean any special course in philosophy. Though I believe that special +philosophical training has an essential function in the curriculum of +secondary schools which aim to prepare and direct towards higher studies +a matured mentality, scientifically trained and humanly inspired, I yet +hold that this special philosophical training can be effectual only if +all education, from its very beginning, wherever that may be, has been +philosophic. We must reflect that just as it is impossible for a man to +be moral only at certain hours of the day, and in certain particular +places, morality being the atmosphere without which the spirit cannot +live, so that ethical teaching is distorted and deflected as soon as it +is relegated to certain definite books, to be studied in connection with +certain definite courses; in the same way this philosophy which is for +us the ideal content of education, and therefore its ideal, cannot but +be present in every real educative act, cannot help reflecting itself in +every throb it gives to the soul of the pupil. This general philosophic +education naturally includes art and religion, which cannot be limited +subject-matters of special courses of instruction, co-ordinated or +subordinated to the other elements of the curriculum. + +Only the particular sciences, that is, the sciences properly so called, +may be freely moved in a student's schedule; they may be added or taken +away, they may be grouped this or that way, and be variously distributed +in accordance with the needs of the moment and the particular exigencies +of the student or of man in general. For these sciences reflect in +themselves the fragmentary multiplicity of things which have been +abstractly cut off from the centre of the spirit, to which however they +too refer. And because they do refer to it, the teaching of them should +be spiritualised, moralised, humanised; it ought to acquire the +concreteness of philosophy, and therefore never ignore the exigencies of +art and of religion. For otherwise it will be merely material +instruction, "informative education," which in reality is no education +at all. + +During the Revival of Learning education was humanistic. Its ideal was +art. The historical life which corresponded to this ideal was the +individualism of our Italian Renaissance. After the Counter Reformation, +art, which is individuality in abstract subjectivity, was abandoned to +itself, and inevitably decayed in the cult of lifeless form; it became +barren in the imitations of classical art considered as final +perfection, to which the individual might raise himself but beyond which +he could not possibly proceed. Art became thus the negation of +originality, and of that subjective autonomy of which it naturally +should be the most enhancing expression. So that classicism up to the +Romantic Revolt remained the cultural form of a society submissive to +the principle of authority and religiously oriented. These conditions +favoured the study of the science of nature, which to the extent that it +is governed by the naturalistic principle is a manifestation of +religiosity. The devotee of natural science speaks in fact of his Nature +with an agnostic reverence similar to that professed by the saint in the +worship of God. Nature, which alone he knows, becomes the object before +which the subject, Man, disappears. But as science progresses, the need +of shaking the principle of authority makes itself felt; the accepted +truths of nature are subjected to criticism; the power of doubting is +reintroduced, and the subject again reasserts itself. So the advancement +of natural science has gradually turned humanity away from the shrines +of naturalistic science. When naturalism opposed the claims of religion, +it ceased to be the science of nature, and became philosophy. This +influenced the scientific spirit in its clash with religious dogmas, and +restored to it the consciousness of the moment of subjectivity which had +been forgotten. The ideal of culture, which prevailed in the nineteenth +century with the triumph of positivism, was science, naturalism, and +therefore religion. It is now high time that the two opposed elements +be joined and united, and that the school be neither abstractly +humanistic in the pursuit of Art nor abstractly religious and +scientific, but that it be made what it is ideally, and what it is also +in practice when it efficaciously educates--the philosophic school. + + * * * * * + +As each one has a different path to follow in this world, each one will +accordingly have his own education. But all paths converge to one point, +where we all gather to lead in common that universal life which alone +makes us men. And as we meet at this centre, we must understand each +other, and should be able therefore to speak the same language, the +language of the spirit. We are compelled by an irresistible need to live +this common life, and together to constitute one sole spirit. But this +end we shall never attain if man, who ought to be entire and complete, +acts as a mere fragment,--such fragment, for example, as the æsthete, or +the superstitious worshipper, or the star gazer, always unaware of the +pit under his feet. If we continue in this state, in which one man +clings to the superstition of mathematics, another idolises entomology, +a third worships physics, and so on indefinitely, if man insists on +fencing off his little piece of this "thrashing-floor that makes us +cruel," knowing no other man but himself, feeling no needs other than +his own, then war will break out. Not a disciplined war, governed by a +law, by an idea, by reason, of which it is the life; but a war of every +man against his brother,--the anarchistic uprising, the disintegration +of the spirit, and the stern suffering which is true misery. + +The dislike for the _purus mathematicus_[5] is traditional. But whether +he be a mathematician, or a priest, or an economist, or a dentist, or a +poet, or a street cleaner, man as a fragment of humanity is a nuisance. + +We want mathematics, but we want it _in_ the man. And the same for +religion, economics, poetry, and all the rest. Otherwise we suffocate, +and die stifled. For all these are things, but there is no life; and +things oppress us and kill us. Therefore let us spiritualise things by +reviving the spirit. Let us release it, that it may freely move in the +organic unity of nature. Let us train it so that its strength, agility, +balance, and all around development shall be able to control all its +dependent functions, which can be successfully carried on only on +condition that they agree, and collaborate toward common life. And this +is what I call philosophy. + +Or we may call it humanity, if the word philosophy suggests strangeness +and difficulty of attainment. For our demand for an educational reform, +in accordance with our renewed consciousness, is prompted by the old +but never ancient desire which put the lantern in the hand of the Greek +philosopher. Education is truly human when it has for its contents that +ideal which I have briefly touched upon in this chapter, the ideal of +the spirit, philosophy. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [5] Referring to the old phrase, _purus mathematicus, purus asinus_. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +CONCLUSION + + +We may look upon the preceding chapters as a kind of general examination +to which we submitted our consciences, by reflecting on the way we have +always performed our duty as teachers, by considering our purposes, and +by scrutinising the internal logic of our task. And our investigation +has been eminently human, since indeed man's essence, we have now come +to understand, is to acquire self-consciousness. + +The patriotic character of the event which was the immediate cause of +this work induced me to show that the common spirit which brought us +together was not a mere political sentiment, of which we should rid +ourselves in crossing the threshold of the school. For we could not but +bring into the classroom our own humanity and our living personality, in +which the content of our teaching and of all education must live. This +personality, however it may be considered, from whatever point of view +it may be regarded, has no particular substance which is not also at the +same time universal,--domestic as the case may be, or social, political, +or whatever may be the phase in which it is determined in its historical +development. And since, in this historical development of our universal +personality, there is Italy with her memories perpetuated by our +immanent sentiment, by our immanent consciousness and by our immanent +will, we could not possibly be ourselves were we not at the same time +Italian educators. + +And looking attentively at this universal foundation on which our own +human value is supported--call it language, logic, law,--we were led to +study the relationship existing between individuality, which is the aim +of all forms of education, and this universal spirit which here +intervenes as it does in every moment of the human life. It intervenes +in education, as the science and the conscience and the entire +personality of the teacher. This personality seems to be violently +imposed upon the pupil in such a way as to check or hinder his +spontaneous development; but we saw that the immediate logical +opposition between teacher and learner gradually resolves itself into +the unity of the spiritual process in which education becomes actual. + +Education therefore appeared to us, not as a fact which is empirically +observable, and which may be fixed and looked upon as subject to natural +laws, but rather as a mystical formation of a super-individual +spirituality, which is the only real, concrete personality actualised by +the individual. In order to understand it, we had to liberate it from +every kind of contact with culture in its materialistic acceptance; and +we therefore insisted on the speculative inquiry into what we called the +realistic point of view. We endeavoured to explain how and why culture +is the very process of education, and the very process of the +personality in which education takes place. This conception would have +lacked the necessary support, had we not carried our investigation +further, and shown that this culture in which the spirit unfolds itself +is not the attribute of a mind existing amidst other minds and face to +face with surrounding nature, but is instead the most genuine +signification of All. For it is the life of the spirit in which +everything gathers to find its support and become thinkable. Man, as he +is educated, is man rigorously considered as spirit,--spirit which is +free, because infinite and truly universal in every one of its moments +and attitudes. This the educator must intently consider if he wants to +conceive adequately his task and its enormous responsibilities, which +become evident when he reflects how in the monad of the individual, in +the simple soul of the child entrusted to his creative care, the +infinite vibrates, and a life is born at every instant, which thence +throbs over the boundless expanse of space, of time, and of all +reality. + +This adequate conception need not be elaborated into a complete system +of philosophy. The educator must sense and grasp this infinite over +which every word of his is carried, every glance of his, every gesture. +As he enters the classroom, as he approaches the child, to whom not only +_magna reverentia_ is due, but the very cult which is shown to things +divine, he cannot but feel himself exalted; he cannot but be fully +conscious of the difficulties of his lofty station, and of the duty of +overcoming them. He must therefore dismiss from within himself all that +is petty in his particular personality, all his preoccupations and +passions, all his commonplace everyday thoughts. He must shake off the +depressing burden of the flesh, which pulls him downward; and he will +then open his soul to fortifying Faith, to the ruling and inspiring +Deity. The man who is not capable of feeling in the School the sanctity +of the place and of his work is not fit to be an educator. + +The spirituality of education becomes however an empty formula, and a +motif for rhetorical variations, if on the one hand we do not possess +the concept of the essence or of the attributes of the spirit, and if on +the other we do not sharply expose those realistic prejudices of +pedagogy which have been maintained in the field of education by the +materialistic conception of man and by a tradition which is both +unreflecting and alien to all radical criticism. I tried to satisfy both +these exigencies rather by arousing the reflection and impelling it on +its way than by escorting it on a journey which must be undertaken with +due preparation. + +And finally, in the effort to provide ourselves with a motto, so to +speak, and a rallying banner, I set forth the doctrine of educational +unity--of the education which is always at all moments education of the +spirit. For even physical culture is conceivable only as formation of +the mind, and more properly of character. Education, we saw, may be made +actual in a thousand different ways, only always on condition that we +observe the law which proceeds from its innermost essence and +constitutes its immanent ideal. Every education is good, provided it is +education--philosophical, human, mind-stirring education; provided it +does not bring atrophy to any necessary function of the spirit, does not +crush the spirit under the weight either of things or of the divinity, +nor excessively exalt it in the consciousness of its own personal power; +provided it neither hurls it into the free abstract world of dreams nor +fetters it in the iron chains of an inhuman reality; and provided it +does not shatter it and scatter its fragments by the multiple +investigations of things innumerable, the knowledge of which can never +bring satisfaction. For it is the function of education to enable the +centralising unity of the reflective spirit to become articulate and +varied through the multiplicity of life and of experience, which is the +actuality of the spirit itself. Opposition to all abstractions, in +behalf of the concrete spirit and of liberty--that is our educational +ideal. + + + + +THE EUROPEAN LIBRARY + +Edited by J. E. SPINGARN + +This series is intended to keep Americans in touch with the intellectual +and spiritual ferment of the continent of Europe to-day, by means of +translations that partake in some measure of the vigor and charm of the +originals. No attempt will be made to give what Americans miscall "the +best books," if by this is meant conformity to some high and illusory +standard of past greatness; any twentieth-century book which displays +creative power or a new outlook or more than ordinary interest will be +eligible for inclusion. Nor will the attempt be made to select books +that merely confirm American standards of taste or morals, since the +series is intended to serve as a mirror of European culture and not as a +glass through which it may be seen darkly. All forms of literature will +be represented, including fiction, belles lettres, poetry, philosophy, +social and economic discussion, history, biography, etc.; and special +attention will be paid to authors whose works have not hitherto been +accessible in English. + + "The first organized effort to bring into English a series of the + really significant figures in contemporary European literature.... + An undertaking as creditable and as ambitious as any of its kind on + the other side of the Atlantic."--_New York Evening Post._ + + +THE WORLD'S ILLUSION. By JACOB WASSERMANN. Translated by Ludwig +Lewisohn. Two volumes. + + One of the most remarkable creative works of our time, revolving + about the experiences of a man who sums up the wealth and culture of + our age yet finds them wanting. + +PEOPLE. By PIERRE HAMP. Translated by James Whitall. With Introduction +by Elizabeth Shepley Sergeant. + + Introducing one of the most significant writers of France, himself a + working man, in whom is incarnated the new self-consciousness of the + worker's world. + +DECADENCE, AND OTHER ESSAYS ON THE CULTURE OF IDEAS. By REMY DE +GOURMONT. Translated by William Aspenwall Bradley. + + The critical work of one of the great æsthetic thinkers of France, + for the first time made accessible in an authorized English + version. + +HISTORY: ITS THEORY AND PRACTICE. By BENEDETTO CROCE. Translated by +Douglas Ainslie. + + A new interpretation of the meaning of history, and a survey of the + great historians, by one of the leaders of European thought. + +THE NEW SOCIETY. By WALTER RATHENAU. Translated by Arthur Windham. + + One of Germany's most influential thinkers and men of action + presents his vision of the new society emerging out of the War. + +THE PATRIOTEER. By HEINRICH MANN. Translated by Ernest Boyd. + + A German "Main Street," describing the career of a typical product + of militarism, in school, university, business, and love. + +MODERN RUSSIAN POETRY: AN ANTHOLOGY. Translated by Babette Deutsch and +A. Yarmolinsky. + + Covers the whole field of Russian verse since Pushkin, with the + emphasis on contemporary poets. + +THE REFORM OF EDUCATION. By GIOVANNI GENTILE. With an Introduction by +Benedetto Croce. Translated by Dino Bigongiari. + + A new interpretation of the meaning of education, by one who shares + with Croce the leadership of Italian thought to-day. + +CHRIST. By GIOVANNI PAPINI. Translated by Dorothy Canfield Fisher. _In +preparation._ + + The first biography of Christ by a great man of letters since + Renan's. + +RUBÉ. By G. A. BORGESE. Translated by Isaac Goldberg. _In preparation._ + + An Italian novel of unusual insight, centering on the spiritual + collapse since the War. + +THE REIGN OF THE EVIL SPIRIT. By C. P. RAMUZ. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Reform of Education + +Author: Giovanni Gentile + +Translator: Dino Bigongiari + +Release Date: July 17, 2011 [EBook #36762] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REFORM OF EDUCATION *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward, Jonathan Ingram, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='center'> +<h1>THE REFORM OF EDUCATION</h1> +<p class='larger padtop'><b>BY<br /> +GIOVANNI GENTILE</b></p> +<p class='padtop'>AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY<br /> +DINO BIGONGIARI</p> +<p>With an Introduction by<br /> +BENEDETTO CROCE</p> +<p class='padtop smaller center'>NEW YORK<br /> +HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY<br /> +1922</p> +<p class='padtop center'>COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY<br /> +HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC.<br /> +<br /> +PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY<br /> +THE QUINN & BODEN COMPANY<br /> +RAHWAY, N.J.</p> +</div> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CONTENTS' id='CONTENTS'></a> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +</div> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td /> + <td> </td> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Introduction</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#INTRODUCTION'>vii</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Education and Nationality</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_EDUCATION_AND_NATIONALITY'>3</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Education and Personality</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_EDUCATION_AND_PERSONALITY'>18</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Fundamental Antinomy of Education</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_THE_FUNDAMENTAL_ANTINOMY_OF_EDUCATION'>40</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Realism and Idealism in the Concept of Culture</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_REALISM_AND_IDEALISM_IN_THE_CONCEPT_OF_CULTURE'>63</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Spirituality of Culture</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_THE_SPIRITUALITY_OF_CULTURE'>85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Attributes of Culture</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_THE_ATTRIBUTES_OF_CULTURE'>110</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Bias of Realism</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_THE_BIAS_OF_REALISM'>139</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Unity of Education</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_THE_UNITY_OF_EDUCATION'>166</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Character and Physical Education</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_CHARACTER_AND_PHYSICAL_EDUCATION'>192</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Ideal of Education</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_THE_IDEAL_OF_EDUCATION__ART_AND_RELIGION'>219</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Conclusion</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_CONCLUSION'>246</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='NOTE' id='NOTE'></a> +<h2>NOTE</h2> +</div> +<p>Shortly after Trieste fell into Italian hands, a series of +lectures was arranged for the school teachers of the city, in +order to welcome them to their new duties as citizens and +officials of Italy. The task of opening the series was assigned +to Giovanni Gentile, Professor of Philosophy in the University +of Rome, who delivered the lectures which constitute +the present volume. At my request Signor Gentile has rewritten +the first chapter, eliminating some of the more local +of the allusions which the nature of the original occasion +called forth, and Senatore Croce has very generously contributed +his illuminating Introduction. The volume as it stands +is more than a treatise on education: it is at one and the +same time an introduction to the thought of one of the +greatest of living philosophers, and an introduction to the +study of all philosophy. If the teachers of Trieste were able +to understand and to enjoy a philosophic discussion of their +chosen work, why should not the teachers of America?</p> +<p class='sig1'>J. E. S.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='INTRODUCTION' id='INTRODUCTION'></a> +<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2> +</div> +<p>The author of this book has been working in the +same field with me for over a quarter of a century, ever +since the time when we undertook—he a very young +man, and I somewhat his senior—to shake Italy out +of the doze of naturalism and positivism back to idealistic +philosophy; or, as it would be better to say, to +philosophy pure and simple, if indeed philosophy is +always idealism.</p> +<p>Together we founded a review, the <i>Critica</i>, and kept +it going by our contributions; together we edited collections +of classical authors; and together we engaged +in many lively controversies. And it seems indeed as +though we really succeeded in laying hold of and again +firmly re-establishing in Italy the tradition of philosophical +studies, thus welding a chain which evidently +has withstood the strain and destructive fury of the +war and its afterclaps.</p> +<p>By this I do not mean to imply that our gradual +achievements were the result of a definite preconcerted +plan. Our work was the spontaneous consequence of +our spontaneous mental development and of the spontaneous +agreement of our minds. And therefore this +common task, too, gradually becoming differentiated +in accordance with the peculiarities of our temperaments, +our tendencies, and our attitudes, resulted +in a kind of division of labour between us. So that +whereas I by preference have devoted my attention +to the history of literature, Gentile has dedicated himself +more particularly to the history of philosophy and +especially of Italian philosophy, not only as a thinker +but as a scholar too, and as a philologist. He may be +said to have covered the entire field from the Middle +Ages to the present time by his works on Scholasticism +in Italy, on Bruno, on Telesio, on Renaissance philosophy, +on Neapolitan philosophy from Genovesi to Galluppi, +on Rosmini, on Gioberti, and on the philosophical +writers from 1850 to 1900. And though his comprehensive +<i>History of Italian Philosophy</i>, published in +parts, is far from being finished, the several sections +of it have been elaborated and cast in the various monographs +which I have just mentioned.</p> +<p>In addition to this, Gentile has been devoting special +attention to religious problems. He took a very important +part in the inquiry into and criticism of “modernism,” +the hybrid nature of which he laid bare, +exposing both the inner contradictions and the scanty +sincerity of the movement. His handling of this question +was shown to be effective by the fact, among +others, that the authors of the encyclical <i>Pascendi</i>, +which brought upon Modernism the condemnation of +the Church, availed themselves of the sharp edge of +Gentile’s logical arguments, prompted by scientific +loyalty and dictated by moral righteousness.</p> +<p>Finally, and in a more close connection with the +present work, it will be remembered that Gentile has +done away with the chaotic pedagogy of the positivistic +school, and has also definitely criticised the educational +theory of Herbart. As far back as 1900 +he published a monograph of capital importance, in +which he showed that pedagogy in so far as it is +philosophical resolves itself without residuum into the +philosophy of the spirit; for the science of the spirit’s +education can not but be the science of the spirit’s +development,—of its dialectics, of its necessity.</p> +<p>Indeed, we owe it to Gentile that Italian pedagogy +has attained in the present day a simplicity and a depth +of concepts unknown elsewhere. In Italy, not educational +science alone, but the practice of it and its +political aspects have been thoroughly recast and amply +developed. And this, too, is due pre-eminently to the +work of Gentile. His authority therefore is powerfully +felt in schools of all grades, for he has lived intensely +the life of the school and loves it dearly.</p> +<p>In addition to these differences arising from our +division of labour, others may of course be noticed, +and they are to be found in the form that philosophical +doctrines have taken on in each of us. Identity is +impossible in this field, for philosophy, like art, is +closely bound up with the personality of the thinker, +with his spiritual interests, and with his experiences of +life. There is never true identity except in the so-called +“philosophical school,” which indicates the death +of a philosophy, in the same way that the poetical +school proclaims death in poetry.</p> +<p>And so it has come about that our general conception +of philosophy as simple philosophy of the spirit—of +the subject, and never of nature, or of the object—has +developed a peculiar stress in Gentile, for whom philosophy +is above all that point in which every abstraction +is overcome and submerged in the concreteness of the +act of Thought; whereas for me philosophy is essentially +methodology of the one real and concrete Thinking—of +historical Thinking. So that while he strongly +emphasises unity, I no less energetically insist on the +distinction and dialectics of the forms of the spirit as +a necessary formation of the methodology of historical +judgment. But of this enough, especially since the +reader can only become interested in these differences +after he has acquired a more advanced knowledge of +contemporary Italian philosophy.</p> +<p>I am convinced that the translation and popularisation +of Gentile’s work will contribute to the toilsome +formation of that consciousness, of that system of +convictions, of that moral and mental faith which is +the profound need of our times. For our age, eager +and anxious for Faith, is perhaps not yet completely +resigned to look for the new creed of humanity there +where alone it may be found, where by firm resolve it +may be secured—in pure Thought. Clear-sighted observers +have perhaps not failed to notice that the World +War, in addition to every thing else, has been a strife +of religions, a clash of conflicting conceptions of life, +a struggle of opposed philosophies. It is surely not +the duty of thinkers to settle economic and political +contentions by ineffective appeals to the universal +brotherhood of man; but it is rather their duty to compose +mental differences and antagonisms, and thus +form the new faith of humanity—a new Christianity +or a new Humanism, as we may wish to call it. Such +a faith will certainly not be spared the conflicts from +which ancient Christianity itself was not free; but it +may reasonably be hoped that it will rescue us from +intellectual anarchy, from unbridled individualism, +from sensualism, from scepticism, from pessimism, from +every aberration which for a century and a half has +been harassing the soul of man and the society of mankind +under the name of Romanticism.</p> +<p class='sig1'><span class='smcap'>Benedetto Croce.</span></p> +<p><span class='smcap'>Rome</span>, April, 1921.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_EDUCATION_AND_NATIONALITY' id='CHAPTER_I_EDUCATION_AND_NATIONALITY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />EDUCATION AND NATIONALITY</span></h2> +</div> +<p>Participation on the part of elementary school teachers +in the work and studies of the Universities has +always seemed to me to constitute a real need of culture +and of primary education. For the elementary school, +by the very nature of the professional training of its +teachers, is exposed to a grave danger from which it +must be rescued if we mean to keep it alive.</p> +<p>The training of the elementary school teacher tends +to be dogmatic. True it is that vigilant individuality +and passionate love for his exquisitely spiritual calling +impel the school teacher to an untiring criticism of his +methods, of his actual teaching, and of the life of the +school which he directs and promotes. But nevertheless +in consequence of those very studies by which he +has prepared himself to be an elementary instructor, +he is led to look upon that learning which constitutes +his mental equipment and the foundation of all his +future teaching, as something quite finished, rounded +out, enclosed in definite formulas, rules, and laws, all +of which have been ascertained once for all and are no +longer susceptible of ulterior revision. He looks upon +this learning not as a developing organism, but as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span> +something definitely moulded and stereotyped. From +this the conclusion is drawn that a certain kind of +knowledge may serve as a corner stone for the whole +school edifice. Since his discipline and his teaching +consist mainly of elements which because of their abstractness +miss the renovating flow of spiritual life, the +teacher slowly but surely ends by shutting himself up +in a certain number of ideas, which are final as far +as he is concerned. They are never corrected or transformed; +in their mechanical fixity they cease to live; +and the mind which cherishes and preserves them loses +its natural tendency to doubt. Yet what is doubt but +dissatisfaction with what is known and with the manner +of knowing, and a spur to further inquiry, to better and +fuller learning, to self scrutiny, to an examination of +one’s own sentiments, one’s own character, and an +inducement to broadmindedness, to a welcoming receptiveness +of all the suggestions and all the teachings +which life at all moments generously showers on us?</p> +<p>The remedy against this natural tendency of the +teacher’s mind is to be found in the University, where +in theory, and so far as is possible, in practice too, +science is presented not as ready-made, definitely +turned out in final theories, enclosed in consecrated +manuals; but as inquiry, as research, as spiritual activity +which does not rest satisfied with its accomplishments, +but for ever feels that it does not +yet know or does not know enough, aware of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +difficulties which threaten every attained position, +and ready unrestingly to track them, to reveal +them, and meet them squarely. This life, which +is perpetual criticism, and unceasing progress in +a learning which is never completed, which never +aspires to be complete, is the serious and fruitful purpose +of the University. Here we must come, to restore +freshness to our spiritual activities, which alone +give value to knowledge, and wrest it from deadening +crystallisation, from mechanical rigidity. For this +reason, it seems to me, special provision should be +made in the University to satisfy the needs of school +teachers. It is not a question of merely furnishing +them with additional information which they might +just as well get out of books. The University must +act on their minds, shake them, start them going, instil +in them salutary doubt by criticism, and develop a +taste for true knowledge.</p> +<p>The following chapters contain a series of University +lectures, in accordance with these criteria, and delivered +originally to the elementary teachers of Trieste, +now for the first time again an Italian city. They constitute +a course which aims not to increase the quantity +of culture, but to change its character. It is an attempt +to introduce the elementary teacher into those spiritual +workshops which are the halls of a University, to induce +him to take part in the original investigations which +constantly contribute to the formation of our national +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +learning; which forever make and reshape our ideas +and our convictions as to what we should want Italian +science to be, the Italian concepts of life and literature; +as to what constitute the heirloom of our school, that +sacred possession bequeathed to us by our forefathers +which makes us what we are, which gives us a name +and endows us with a personality, by which we are +enabled to look forward to a future of Italy which is +not solely economic and political, but moral and intellectual +as well.</p> +<p>And thus, because of the time, the place, the audience, +and the subject, we are from the start brought +face to face with a serious question,—a question which +has often been debated, and which in the last few +years, on account of the exasperation of national sentiment +brought about by the World War, has become the +object of passionate controversies. For if it has been +frequently argued on one side that science is by nature +and ought to be national, there has been no lack of +warning from the other side as to the dangers of this +position. For war, it was said, would, sooner or later, +come to an end and be a thing of the past; whereas +truth never sets, never becomes a thing of the past; +it is error alone that is destined to pass and disappear. +We were reminded of the fact that what is scientifically +true and artistically beautiful is beautiful and true +beyond no less than within the national frontier; and +that only on this condition is it worthy of its name. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +This question therefore presents itself as a preliminary +to our investigation, and it is for us to examine it. +We shall do so in as brief a manner as the subject will +allow.</p> +<p>We shall first point out the inutility of distinguishing +science from culture, education from instruction. +Those who insist on these distinctions maintain that +though a school is never national in virtue of the content +of its scientific teaching, it must nevertheless be +national in that it transforms science into culture, +makes it over into an instrument with which to shape +consciousness and conscience, and uses it as a tool for +the making of men and for the training of citizens. +Thus we have as an integral part of science a form of +action directed on the character and the will of the +young generations that are being nurtured and raised +in accordance with national traditions and in view of +the ends which the state wants to attain. Such distinctions +however complicate but do not resolve the +controversy. They entangle it with other questions +which it were better to leave untouched at this juncture. +For it might be said of questions what Manzoni said +of books: one at a time is enough—if it isn’t too much.</p> +<p>We shall therefore try to simplify matters, and begin +by clarifying the two concepts of nationality and of +knowledge, in order to define the concept of the “nationality +of knowledge.” What, then, is the nation? +A very intricate question, indeed, over which violent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +discussions are raging, and all the more passionately +because the premises and conclusions of this controversy +are never maintained in the peaceful seclusion +of abstract speculative theories, but are dragged at +every moment in the very midst of the concrete interests +of the men themselves who affirm or deny the value +of nationalities. So that serious difficulties are encountered +every time an attempt is made to determine +the specific and concrete content of this concept of the +nation, which is ever present, and yet ever elusive. +Proteus-like, it appears before us, but as we try to +grasp it, it changes semblance and breaks away. It +is visible to the immediate intuition of every national +consciousness, but it slips from thought as we strive +to fix its essence.</p> +<p>Is it common territory that constitutes nationality? +or is it common language? or political life led in common? +or the accumulation of memories, of traditions, +and of customs by which a people looks back to <i>one</i> +past where it never fails to find itself? Or is it perhaps +the relationship which binds together all the individuals +of a community into a strong and compact +structure, assigning a mission and an apostolate to a +people’s faith? One or the other of these elements, or +all of them together, have in turn been proposed and +rejected with equally strong arguments. For in each +case it may be true or it may be false that the given +element constitutes the essence of a people’s nationality, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +or of any historical association whatsoever. All +these elements, whether separately or jointly, may have +two different meanings, one of which makes them a +mere accidental content of the national consciousness, +whereas the other establishes them as necessary, essential, +and unfailing constituents. For they may have +a merely natural value, or they may have a moral and +spiritual one. Our birth-land, which nourished us in +our infancy, and now shelters the bodies of our parents, +the mountains and the shores that surround it and individualise +it, these are natural entities. They are not +man-made; we cannot claim them, nor can we fasten +our existence to them. Even our speech, our religion +itself, which do indeed live in the human mind, may +yet be considered as natural facts similar to the geographical +accidents which give boundaries and elevation +to the land of a people. We may, abstractly, look +upon our language as that one which was spoken +before we were born, by our departed ancestors who +somehow produced this spiritual patrimony of which +we now have the use and enjoyment, very much in the +same way that we enjoy the sunlight showered upon us +by nature. In this same way a few, perhaps many, +conceive of religion: they look upon it as something +bequeathed and inherited, and not therefore as the +fruit of our own untiring faith and the correlate of our +actual personality. All these elements in so far as +they are natural are evidently extraneous to our personality. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +We do dwell within this peninsula cloistered +by the Alps; we delight in this luminous sky, in our +charming shores smiled upon by the waters of the +Mediterranean. But if we emigrate from this lovely +abode, if under the stress of economic motives we +traverse the ocean and gather, a number of us, somewhere +across the Atlantic; and there, united by the +natural tie of common origin, and fastened by the +identity of speech, we maintain ourselves as a special +community, with common interests and peculiar moral +affinities, then, in spite of the severance from our native +peninsula, we have preserved our nationality: Italy has +crossed the ocean in our wake. Not only can we +sunder ourselves from our land, but we may even +relinquish our customs, forget our language, abandon +our religion; or we may, within our own fatherland, be +kept separate by peculiar historical traditions, by differences +of dialects or even of language, by religion, +by clashing interests, and yet respond with the same +sentiment and the same soul to the sound of one Name, +to the colours of one flag, to the summons of common +hopes, to the alarm of common dangers.</p> +<p>And it is then that we feel ourselves to be a people; +then are we a nation. It is not what we put within +this concept that gives consistency and reality to the +concept itself; it is the act of spiritual energy whereby +we cling to a certain element or elements in the consciousness +of that collective personality to which we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +feel we belong. Nationality consists not in content +which may vary, but in the form which a certain content +of human consciousness assumes when it is felt to +constitute a nation’s character.</p> +<p>But this truth is still far from being recognised. Its +existence is not even suspected by those who utilise a +materially constituted nationality as a title, that is, an +antecedent, and a support for political rights claimed +by more or less considerable ethnical aggregates that +are more or less developed and more or less prepared to +take on the form of free and independent states and to +secure recognition of a <i>de facto</i> political personality on +the strength of an assumed <i>de jure</i> existence.</p> +<p>This truth, however, was grasped by the profound +intuition of Mazzini, the apostle of nationalities, the +man who roused our national energies, and whose irresistible +call awakened Italy and powerfully impelled +her to affirm her national being. Even from the first +years of the <i>Giovine Italia</i> he insisted that Italy, when +still merely an idea, prior to her taking on a concrete +and actual political reality, was not a people and was +not a nation. For a nation, he maintained, is not +something existing in nature; but a great spiritual reality. +Therefore like all that is in and for the spirit, +it is never a fact ready to be ascertained, but always +a mission, a purpose, something that has to be realised—an +action.</p> +<p>The Italians to whom Mazzini spoke were not the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +people around him. He was addressing that future +people which the Italians themselves had to create. +And they would create it by fixing their souls on one +idea—the idea of a fatherland to be conquered—a +sacred idea, so noble that people would live and die +for it, as for that sovereign and ultimate Good for +which all sacrifices are gladly borne, without which +man can not live, outside of which he finds nothing +that satisfies him, nothing that is conducive to a life’s +work. For Mazzini nationality is not inherited +wealth, but it is man’s own conquest. A people +can not faint-heartedly claim from others recognition +of their nation, but must themselves demonstrate its +existence, realise it by their willingness to fight and +die for its independence: independence which is +freedom and unity and constitutes the nation. It is +not true that first comes the nation and then follows +the state; the nation is the state when it has triumphed +over the enemy, and has overcome the oppression, +which till then were hindering its formation. It is +not therefore a vague aspiration or a faint wish, but +an active faith, an energetic volition which creates, +in the freed political Power, the reality of its +own moral personality and of its collective consciousness. +Hence the lofty aim of Mazzini in insisting that +Italy should not be made with the help of foreigners +but should be a product of the revolution, that is, of +its own will.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span></div> +<p>And truly the nation is, substantially, as Mazzini +saw and firmly believed, the common will of a people +which affirms itself and thus secures self-realisation. +A nation is a nation only when it wills to be one. I said, +when it really wills, not when it merely says it does. +It must therefore act in such a manner as to realise +its own personality in the form of the State beyond +which there is no collective will, no common personality +of the people. And it must act seriously, sacrificing +the individual to the collective whole, and welcoming +martyrdom, which in every case is but the +sacrifice of the individual to the universal, the lavishing +of our own self to the ideal for which we toil.</p> +<p>From this we are not, however, to infer that a nation +can under no circumstances exist prior to the formation +of its State. For if this formation means the +formal proclamation or the recognition by other States, +it surely does pre-exist. But it does not if we consider +that the proclamation of sovereignty is a moment +in a previously initiated process, and the effect of pre-existing +forces already at work; which effect is never +definite because a State, even after it has been constituted, +continues to develop in virtue of those very +forces which produced it; so that it is constantly renewing +and continually reconstituting itself. Hence +a State is always a future. It is that state which this +very day we must set up, or rather at this very instant, +and with all our future efforts bent to that political +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +ideal which gleams before us, not only in the light of +a beautiful thought, but as the irresistible need of our +own personality.</p> +<p>The nation therefore is as intimately pertinent and +native to our own being as the State, considered as +Universal Will, is one with our concrete and actual +ethical personality. Italy for us is the fatherland +which lives in our souls as that complex and lofty +moral idea which we are realising. We realise it in +every instant of our lives, by our feelings, and by our +thoughts, by our speech and by our imagination, indeed, +by our whole life which concretely flows into that Will +which is the State and which thus makes itself felt in +the world. And this Will, this State is Italy, which +has fought and won; which has struggled for a long +time amid errors and sorrows, hopes and dejection, +manifestations of strength and confessions of weakness, +but always with a secret thought, with a deep-seated +aspiration which sustained her throughout her +entire ordeal, now exalting her in the flush of action, +now, in the critical moment of resistance, confirming +and fortifying her by the undying faith in ultimate +triumph. This nation, which we all wish to raise to an +ever loftier station of honour and of beauty, even +though we differ as to the means of attaining this end, +is it not the substance of our personality,—of that +personality which we possess not as individuals who +drift with the current, but as men who have a powerful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +self-consciousness and who look upward for their +destiny?</p> +<p>If we thus understand the nation, it follows that not +only every man must bear the imprint of his nationality, +but that also there is no true science, no man’s science, +which is not national. The ancients believed, in conformity +with the teachings of the Greeks, that science +soars outside of the human life, above the vicissitudes +of mortals, beyond the current of history, which is +troubled by the fatal conflicts of error, by falterings +and doubts, and by the unsatisfied thirst for knowledge. +Truth, lofty, pure, motionless, and unchangeable, was +to them the fixed goal toward which the human mind +moved, but completely severed from it and transcendent. +This concept, after two thousand years of +speculation, was to reveal itself as abstract and therefore +fallacious,—abstract from the human mind, +which at every given instance mirrors itself in such an +image of truth, ever gazing upon an eternal ideal but +always intent on reshaping it in a new and more adequate +form. The modern world, at first with dim consciousness, +and guided rather by a fortunate intuition +than by a clear concept of its own real orientation, +then with an ever clearer, ever more critical conviction, +has elaborated a concept which is directly antithetical +to the classical idea of a celestial truth removed from +the turmoil of earthly things. It has accordingly and +by many ways reached the conclusion that reality, lofty +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +though it be, and truth itself, which nourishes the mind +and alone gives validity to human thought, are in life +itself, in the development of the mind, in the growth +of the human personality, and that this personality, +though ideally beyond our grasp, is yet in the concrete +always historical and actual, and realises itself in its +immanent value. It therefore creates its truth and +its world. Modern philosophy and modern consciousness +no longer point to values which, transcending +history, determine its movement and its direction +by external finalities: they show to man that the +lofty aim which is his law is within himself; that it is +in his ever unsatisfied personality as it unceasingly +strains upward towards its own ideal.</p> +<p>Science is no longer conceived to-day as the indifferent +pure matter of the intellect. It is an interest which +invests the entire person, extols it and with it moves onward +in the eternal rhythm of an infinite development. +Science is not for us the abstract contemplation of +yore; it is self-consciousness that man acquires, and +by means of which he actuates his own humanity. +And therefore science is no longer an adornment or an +equipment of the mind, considered as diverse to its +content; it is culture, and the formation of this very +mind. So that whenever science is as yet so abstract +that it seems not to touch the person and fails to form +it or transform it, it is an indication that it is not as +yet true science.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></div> +<p>So we conclude thus: he who distinguishes his person +from his knowledge is ignorant of the nature of knowledge. +The modern teacher knows of no science which +is not an act of a personality. It knows no personality +which admits of being sequestered from its ideas, from +its ways of thinking and of feeling, from that greater +life which is the nation. Concrete personality then is +nationality, and therefore neither the school nor science +possesses a learning which is not national.</p> +<p>And for this reason therefore our educational reforms +which are inspired by the teachings of modern +idealistic philosophy demand that the school be animated +and vivified by the spiritual breath of the +fatherland.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_EDUCATION_AND_PERSONALITY' id='CHAPTER_II_EDUCATION_AND_PERSONALITY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />EDUCATION AND PERSONALITY</span></h2> +</div> +<p>It is essential at the very outset to understand clearly +what is meant by <i>concrete personality</i>, and why the +particular or empirical personality, as we are usually +accustomed to consider it, is nothing more than an +abstraction.</p> +<p>Ordinarily, relying on the most obvious data of experience, +we are led to believe that the sphere of our +moral personality coincides exactly with the sphere of +our physical person, and is therefore limited and contained +by the surface of our material body. We consider +this body in itself as an indivisible whole, with +such reciprocal correspondence and interdependence of +its parts as to become a veritable system. It seems to +us also that this system moves in space as a whole +when the body is displaced, continuing to remain united +as long as it exists. We look upon it as though it +were separated from all other bodies, whether of the +same or of different kinds, in such a manner that it +excludes others from the place it occupies, and is itself +in turn excluded by them. One body then, one physical +person, one moral personality—that moral personality +which each one of us recognises and affirms by +the consciousness of the ego.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></div> +<p>And in fact when I walk I am not a different person +from when I think. My ego remains the same whether +my body moves through space or whether my mind +inwardly meditates. Impenetrability, which is possessed +by matter, seems to be also a property of human +individualism.</p> +<p>From my ego every other ego is apparently excluded. +What I am no one else can be, and I in turn cannot be +confused with another person. Those of my fellow +beings that are most intimately, most closely related +to me seem yet as completely external to me, as thoroughly +sundered from my spirit, as their bodies are +from mine. My father, my brother are dead. They +have vanished from this world in which I nevertheless +continue to exist; just as a stone remains in its place +and is in no way affected when another stone near by +is removed; or as a mutilated pedestal may still remain +to remind the onlooker of the statue that was torn +away.</p> +<p>Hundreds of individuals assemble to listen to the +words of an orator. But no necessary ties exist between +the various persons; and when the speaking is +over, each one goes his way confident that he has lost +no part of himself and that he has maintained his individuality +absolutely unaltered.</p> +<p>Our elders lived on this planet when we had not yet +arrived. After we came, they gradually withdrew, one +after the other. And just as they had been able to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +exist without us, so shall we continue to live without +them, and away from them develop our personality. +For each one of us, according to this point of view, +has his own being within himself, his own particular +destiny. Every man makes of himself the centre +of his world, of that universe which he has created with +deeds and thoughts: a universe of ideas, of images, +of concepts, of systems, which are all in his brain; +a universe of values, of desirable goods and of +abhorred evils, all of which are rooted in his own +individual will, in his character, and originate from the +peculiar manner in which he personally colours this +world and conceives the universe.</p> +<p>What is another man’s sorrow to me? What part +have I in his joys? And how can the science of Aristotle +or of Galileo be anything to me, since I do not +know them, since I cannot read their books, and am +totally unfamiliar with their teachings? And the unknown +wayfarer who passes by, wrapped in his +thoughts, what does he care for my loftiest conceptions, +for the songs that well forth from the depths of +my soul? The hero’s exploit brings no glory to us; +the heinous deed of the criminal makes us shudder indeed, +but drives no pangs of remorse through our +conscience. For every one of us has his own body +and his own particular soul. Every one, in short, is +himself independently of what others may be.</p> +<p>This conception, which we ordinarily form of our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +personality, and on which we erect the system of our +practical life in all our manifold relations with other +individuals, is an abstract concept. For when we +thus conceive our being, we see but a single side of it +and that the least important: we fail to grasp that part +which reveals all that is spiritual, and human, and +truly and peculiarly ours. I shall not here investigate +how the human personality has two aspects so totally +different one from the other; and in what remote depths +we must search for the common root of these two +contrasting and apparently contradictory manifestations. +Our task for the moment is to establish within +ourselves through reflection the firm conviction that +we are not lone individualities: that there is another +and a better part of us, an element which is the very +antithesis of the particular, that one, namely, which +is the deep-seated source of our nature, by which we +cease, each one of us, to be in irreducible opposition +to the rest of humanity, and become instead what all +the others are or what we want them to be.</p> +<p>In order to fix our attention on this more profound +aspect of our inner life, I shall take as an example +one of those elements which are contained in the concept +of nationality, Language. Language it must be +remembered does not belong <i>per se</i> to nationality; it +belongs to it in virtue of an act by which a will, a personality, +affirms itself with a determined content. We +must now point out the abstract character of that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +concept by which language, which is a constituent element +of our personality, is usually ascribed to what is +merely particular in it.</p> +<p>That language is a peculiar and constituent element +of personality is quite obvious. Through language we +speak not to others only, but to ourselves also. Speaking +to ourselves means seeing within ourselves our +own ideas, our soul, our very self in short,—it means +self-consciousness, as the philosophers say, and therefore +self-control, clear vision of our acts, knowledge +of what stirs within us; it means, therefore, living not +after the manner of dumb animals, but as rational +beings, as men. Man cannot think, have consciousness +of himself, reason, without first expressing all +that to himself. Man has been defined as a rational +animal; he may also be defined as the speaking animal. +The remark is as old as Aristotle.</p> +<p>Man, however, this animal endowed with the faculty +of speaking, is not man in general who never was, but +the real man, the historical man, actually existing. +And he does not speak a general language, but a certain +definite one.</p> +<p>When I speak before a public, I can but use my +language, the Italian language. And I exist, that is +I affirm myself, I come into real being, by thinking in +conformity with my real personality, in so far as I +speak, and speak this language of mine. <i>My</i> language, +the <i>Italian</i> language. Here lies the problem. Were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +I not to speak, or were I to speak otherwise than I +know how, I would not be myself. This manner of +expressing myself is then an intrinsic trait of my personality. +But this speech which makes me what I am, +and which therefore intimately belongs to me, could it +possibly be mine, could I use it, mould it into my own +life-substance, if, mine though it be, it were yet enclosed +within me in the manner that every particle +of my flesh is contained within my body, having nothing +in common with any other part of matter co-existing +in space? Could my language in short really be my +language, if it belonged exclusively to me, to what I +have called my particular or empirical personality?</p> +<p>A simple reflection will suffice to show that my language, +like a beacon of light, inwardly illumines my +Thought, and renders visible to me every movement +and every sense, only because this language is not exclusively +my own. It is that same language through +which I grasp the ancient authors of Italy. I read +about Francesca da Rimini and Count Ugolino, and +find them within me in the emotion of my throbbing +soul. I read of Petrarch’s golden-haired Laura, of +Ariosto’s Angelica, fair love of chivalrous men and +the unhappy friend of youthful Medoro. I read +of the cunning art whereby the Florentine secretary, +in his keen speculative discourses, sought to establish +the principalities and the state of Italy. I read of the +many loves, sorrows, discoveries and sublime concepts +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +which did not blossom forth from my spirit, but which, +once expressed by the great men of my country, have, +because of their merits, continued to exist in the imagination, +in the intellect, in the hearts of Italians, +and have thus constituted a literature, a light-shedding +history which is the life of language, varied indeed and +restless, but ever the same. This is the language which +I first heard from the dear lips of my mother, which +gradually and constantly I made my own by studying +and reflecting on the books and on the conversations +of those who for years, or days, or instants, were with +me in my native town and exchanged with me their +thoughts and their sentiments; the language which +unites to me all those who, living or dead, together constitute +this which I call and feel to be my own people.</p> +<p>Yet I might want to break away with my speech +from this glorious communion. I might try to demonstrate +to myself that my speech is exclusively mine, +and surely I would thus accomplish something. I +would produce an exception which in this case too +would serve to confirm the rule.</p> +<p>For surely a man may devise a cryptic language, a +cipher, a jargon. Secret codes and conventional cants +are resorted to by individuals who have some reason to +conceal their meaning from others. Such individuals, +however, can form but very small groups, and because +of the artificial character of their communications +never may constitute a nation. An artificial jargon of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +this sort is however a language of some kind: it must +be, since art imitates nature. It complies with the law +that is immanent in the peculiar nature of language, +namely, that there be nothing secret or hidden in it, for +speech and in general every form of spiritual activity +invests a community and aims at universality. The +jargon is possible only because of the key by which it +may be translated back into the common language. +Give a ciphered document to the cryptographer; by +study and ingenuity—that is by the use of that very +intelligence which arbitrarily combined the cipher—he +discovers the key; thus he too breaks up the artificial +form, and draws from it the natural flow of a speech +that is intelligible to all those who speak the same national +tongue. And again, words as they flow from the +inspired bosom of the poet, when they first appear in +the freshness of the new artistic creation, do have +something that is cryptic. That language is the poet’s +own; it never had been used by another; a jargon before +it is deciphered may be and is the language of a +particular personality. But if we look more attentively, +we shall see that in both cases the language is +the language of the community. The inspired poet +does indeed speak to himself, but with the consciousness +of a potential audience, he utters a word to himself +which must eventually be intelligible to others because +it is by its nature intelligible. In the conditions +in which the poet finds himself when speaking, he must +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +use that word and no other, and any other person in +those same spiritual conditions would use, could not +help using, the same word. For his word is the +Word, the one that is required by the circumstances. +And since he is a poet, a serious mind uttering a word +which needs no translation, it will be the word of +his own people first and then of humanity at large, in +so far as its beauty will inspire men of different nations +and of diverse speech with the desire of learning +the poet’s own intimate language.</p> +<p>All this is true because the spirit is universal activity, +which, far from separating men, unites them. It realises +historically its universality in the community of the +family, of the city, of the district, and of the nation, +and in every form of intimate aggregation and of +fusion which history may call into being.</p> +<p>Language may or may not be in the formation +of a man’s nationality. What however must be ever +present is the Will by which man every moment +of his life renovates his own personality. Can the +Will, by which each one of us is what he is, be his own +Will, exclusively his own? Or is the Will itself, like +language, not perhaps a national heirloom, but surely +a common act, a communion of life, in such a way that +we live our own life while living the life of the nation?</p> +<p>Of course, in the abstract, as I have explained above, +my will is particular. But we must be reminded that +Will is one thing, and faint wishing another. There +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +is such a thing as real effective volition, and there is +something which strives to be such and fails; this latter +we might call “velleity.” Real will does not rest satisfied +with intentions, designs, or sterile desires; it +acts, and by its effectiveness it reveals itself, and by its +value shows its reality. And our being results not from +velleities but from the real will. We are not what we +might conditionally desire to be, but what we actually +will to be. A velleity we might say is the will directed +to an end which is either relatively or absolutely impossible; +will is that which becomes effective.</p> +<p>But, then, when is it that my will really is effective, +really <i>wills</i>? I am a citizen of a state which has +power; this power, this will of the state expresses itself +to me in laws which I must obey. The transgression +of laws, if the state is in existence, bears with it the +inevitable punishment of the transgressor, that is, the +application of that law which the offender has refused +to recognise. The state is supported by the inviolability +of laws, of those sacred laws of the land which +Socrates, as Plato tells us, taught his pupils to revere. +I, then, as a citizen of my country, am bound by its +Law in such a manner that to will its transgression is +to aim at the impossible. If I did so, I should be +indulging in vain velleities, in which my personality, far +from realising itself, would on the contrary be disintegrated +and scattered. I then want what the law wants +me to will.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></div> +<p>It makes no difference that, from a material +and explicit point of view, a system of positive law does +not coincide throughout with the sphere of my activity, +and that therefore the major part of the standards of +my conduct must be determined by the inner dictates +of my particular conscience. For it is the Will of the +State that determines the limits between the moral +and the juridical, between what is imposed by the law +of the land and what is demanded by the ethical conscience +of the individual. And there is no limit which +pre-exists to the line by which the constituent and +legislative power of the State delimits the sphere subject +to its sanctions. So that positively or negatively, +either by command or by permission, our whole conduct +is subject to that will by which the State establishes +its reality.</p> +<p>But the Will of the State does not manifest itself +solely by the enactments of positive legislation. It +opens to private initiative such courses of action as +may presumably be carried on satisfactorily without +the impulse and the direct control of the sovereign +power. But this concession has a temporary character, +and the State is ever ready to intervene as +soon as the private management ceases to be effective. +So that even in the exercise of what seems the untrammelled +will of the individual we discern the power +of the State; and the individual is free to will something +only because the sovereign power wants him to. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +So that in reality this apparently autonomous particular +will is the will of the state not expressed in terms +of positive legislation, there being no need of such an +expression. But since the essence of law is not in the +expression of it, but in the will which dictates it, or +observes it, or enforces the observance of it, in the will, +in short, that wills it, it follows that the law exists even +though unwritten.</p> +<p>In the way of conclusion, then, it may be said that +I, as a citizen, have indeed a will of my own; but that +upon further investigation my will is found to coincide +exactly with the will of the State, and I want anything +only in so far as the State wants me to want it.</p> +<p>Could it possibly be otherwise? Such an hypothesis +overwhelms me at the very thought of it. For it +would come to this,—that I exist and my state does +not:—the state in which I was born, which sustained +and protected me before I saw the light of day, which +formed and guaranteed to me this communion of life; +the state in which I have always lived, which has constituted +this spiritual substance, this world in which I +support myself, and which I trust will never fail me +even though it does change constantly. I could, it is +true, ignore this close bond by which I am tied and +united to that great will which is the will of my country. +I might balk and refuse to obey its laws. But +acting thus, I would be indulging in what I have called +velleities. My personality, unable to transform the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +will of the state, would be overcome and suppressed +by it.</p> +<p>Let us however assume for a moment that I might +in the innermost depths of my being segregate myself. +Averse to the common will and to the law of the land, +I decide to proclaim over the boundless expanse of my +thought the proud independence of my ego, as a lone, +inaccessible summit rising out of the solitude. Up to +a certain point this hypothesis is verified constantly +by the manner in which my personality freely becomes +actual. But even then I do not act as a particular +being: it is the universal power that acts through my +personal will.</p> +<p>For when we effectively observe the law, with true +moral adhesion and in thorough sincerity, the law becomes +part of ourselves, and our actions are the direct +results of our convictions,—of the necessity of our +convictions. For every time we act, inwardly we see +that such must be our course; we must have a clear +intuition of this necessity. The Saint who has no will +but the will of God intuitively sees necessity in his +norm. So does the sinner in his own way: but his +norm is erroneous and therefore destined to fail. +Every criminal in transgressing the law obeys a precept +of his own making which is in opposition to the +enactments of the state. And in so doing he creates +almost a state of his own, different from the one which +historically exists and must exist because of certain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +good reasons, the excellence of which the criminal himself +will subsequently realise. From the unfortunate +point of view which he has taken, the transgressor is +justified in acting as he does, and to such an extent that +no one in his position, as he thinks, could possibly take +exception to it. His will is also universal; if he were +allowed to, if it were possible for him, he would establish +new laws in place of the old ones: he would set up +another state over the ruins of the one which he undermines. +And what else does the tyrant when he +destroys the freedom of the land and substitutes a new +state for the crushed Commonwealth? In the same +manner the rebel does away with the despot, starts a +revolution and establishes liberty if he is successful; +if not, he is overcome and must again conform his will +to the will of that state which he has not been able to +overthrow. So then, I exercise my true volition whenever +the will of my state acts in my personal will, or +rather when my will is the realisation of the will of a +super-national group in which my state co-exists with +other states, acting upon them, and being re-acted +upon in reciprocal determinations. Or perhaps better +still, when the entire world wills in me. For my will, +I shall say it once again, is not individual but universal, +and in the political community by which +individuals are united into a higher individuality, +historically distinct from other similar ones, we must +see a form of universality.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span></div> +<p>For this reason, then, we are justified in saying that +our personality is particular when we consider it abstractly, +but that concretely it realises itself as a +universal and therefore also as a national personality. +This conception is of fundamental importance for those +of us who live in the class-room and have made of +teaching our life’s occupation, our ultimate end, and +the real purpose of our existence. For in this conception +of human activities we find the solution of a +problem that has been present in the minds of thinking +men ever since they began to reflect on the subject of +education, or, in other words, from time immemorial. +Education, we must remember, is not a fact, if by fact +we mean, as we should, something that has happened, +or is wont to happen, or must inevitably take place in +virtue of the constancy of the law which governs it. +We teachers are all sincerely convinced that education, +as we speak of it, as it draws our interests, for which we +work, and which we strive to improve, is not now what +it was before. For there is no education that works +out in conformity with natural laws. It is a free act of +ours, the vocation of our souls, our duty as men. By it +more nobly than by any other action man is enabled to +actualise his superior nature. Animals do not educate: +even though they do raise their young ones they yet +form no family, no ethical organism with members differentiated +and reciprocally correlated. But we freely, +by an act of our conscience, recognise our children, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +as we do our parents and our brothers; and we discern +our fellow-beings in ourselves and ourselves in others; +and by the growth of our own we unconsciously develop +the personality of others; and therefore in the family, +in the city, in any community, we constitute one spirit, +with common needs that are satisfied by the operations +of individual activity which is a social activity.</p> +<p>Man has been called a political or a social animal. +He might therefore be considered also as an educating +animal. For we do not merely educate the young ones, +our young ones. Education being spiritual action +bearing on the spirit, we really educate all those that +are in any way and by any relations whatsoever connected +with us, whether or not they belong to our family +or to our school, as long as they concur with us in +constituting a complete social entity. And we not only +train those of minor age, who are as yet under tutelage, +and still frequent the schools and are busily intent +upon developing and improving their skill, their character, +their culture. We also educate the adults, the +grown-up men and women, the aged; for there is no +man alive who does not daily add to his intellectual +equipment, who does not derive some advantage from +his human associations, who could not appropriately +repeat the statement of the Roman emperor—<i>nulla +dies sine linea</i>. Man always educates.</p> +<p>But here, as in every other manifestation of his spiritual +activity, man does not behave in sole conformity +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +with instinct; he does not teach by abandoning himself, +so to speak, to the force of natural determinism. He +is fully aware of his own doings. He keeps his eyes +open on his own function, so that he may attain the +end by the shortest course, that he may without wasting +his energies derive from them the best possible +results. For man reflects.</p> +<p>It is evident then that education is not a scheme +which permits pedagogues and pedants to interfere +with their theories and lucubrations in this sacred task +of love, which binds the parents to the children, brings +old and young together, and keeps mankind united in +its never ceasing ascent. Before the word came into +being, the thing, as is usually the case, already existed. +Before there was a science and an incumbent for the +chair, there existed something that was the life of this +science and therefore the justification of the chair. +There was the intent reflectiveness of man, who in +compliance with the divine saying, “Know thyself,” +was becoming conscious of his own work, and therefore, +unwilling to abandon his actions to external impulses, +began to question everything. What the lower +animal does naturally and unerringly through its infallible +instinct, man achieves by the restless scrutiny +of his mind. Ever thoughtful, always yearning for +the better, he searches and explores, often stumbling +in error, but ever rising out of it to a higher station +of learning and of art. Our education is human, because +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +it is an action and not a fact; because it is a +problem that we always solve and have to keep solving +for ever.</p> +<p>This intuitive truth is demonstrated experimentally +to us by the very lives we live as educators. As long +as the freshness of our vocation lasts, as long as we +can remain free from mechanical routine and from the +impositions of fixed habits; as long as we are able to +consider every new pupil with renewed interest, discover +in him a different soul, unlike that of any other +that we have previously come in contact with, and +differing within itself from day to day; as long as it is +still possible for us to enter the class-room thrilled and +throbbing in the anticipation of new truths to reveal, +of novel experiments to perform, of unexpected difficulties +to overcome, in the full consciousness of the +rapid motion of a life ever renewed in us and around +us by the incoming generations, that flow to us and +ebb away unceasingly towards life and death; so long +shall we really live and love the teacher’s life, so long +shall we demonstrate to ourselves and to others the +truth I have already affirmed.</p> +<p>We teachers should be constantly on our guard +against the dangers of routine, against the belief that +we have but to repeat the same old story in the same +class-room, to the same kind of distant, blank faces, +staring at us in dreary uniformity from the same +benches. We shall continue to be educators only as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +long as we are able to feel that every instant of our +life’s work is a new instant, and that education therefore +is a problem that insistently stimulates our ingenuity +to an ever renewed solution.</p> +<p>Now the most important of all tasks, ancient and +modern, in the field of education is this,—the task of +the teacher to represent the Universal to his pupils, +the Universal, of course, as historically determined. +Scientific thought, customs, laws, religious beliefs are +brought before the pupil’s mind, not as the science, +the laws, the religion of the teacher, but as those of +humanity, of his country, of his period. And the +pupil is the particular individual who, having entered +upon the process of education, and being submitted, +so to speak, to the yoke of the school, ceases to enjoy +his former liberty in the pursuit of a spiritual endowment +and in the formation of his character, and, +in consequence of this educational pressure, bends +compliantly before the common law. Hence the world-old +opposition to the coercive power of the school, and +the outcry raised from time to time against the privilege +demanded by the educator, who on the strength of the +assumedly higher quality of his beliefs, his learning, +his taste, or his moral conscience, claims to interfere +with the spontaneous development of a personality in +quest of itself.</p> +<p>On one side education undoubtedly assumes the task +of developing freedom, for the aim of education is to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +produce men; and man is worthy of this name only +when he is a master of himself, capable of initiating his +own acts, responsible for his deeds, able to discern and +assimilate the ideas which he accepts and professes, +affirms and propagates, so that whatever he says, +thinks, or does, really comes from him. Our children +are said to be properly raised when they give evidence +of being able to take care of themselves without the +help of our guidance and advice. And we trust that +we have accomplished our task as educators when our +pupils have made our language their own and are able +to tell us new things originally thought out by them. +Freedom then must be the result of education.</p> +<p>But on the other hand, teaching implies an action +exercised on another mind, and education cannot therefore +result in the relinquishment and abandonment of +the pupil. The educator must awaken interests that +without him would for ever lie dormant. He must +direct the learner towards an end which he would be +unable to estimate properly if left alone, and must help +him to overcome the otherwise unsurmountable obstacles +that beset his progress. He must, in short, +transfuse into the pupil something of himself, and out +of his own spiritual substance create elements of the +pupil’s character, mind, and will. But the acts +which the pupil performs in consequence of his training +will, in a certain measure, be those of his teacher; +and education will therefore have proved destructive +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +of that very liberty with which the pupil was originally +endowed. Is it not true that people constantly attribute +to early family influences and to environment—that +is, to education—the good and the bad in the +deeds of the mature man?</p> +<p>This is the form in which the problem usually presents +itself. The mind of the educator is therefore +torn by two conflicting forces: the desire zealously to +watch and control the pupil’s growth and direct his +evolution along the course that seems quickest and +surest for his complete development; and, on the other +hand, the fear that he may kill fertile seeds, stifle +with presumptuous interference the spontaneous life +of the spirit in its personal impulses, and clothe the +individual with a garment that is not adapted for +him,—crush him under the weight of a leaden cape.</p> +<p>The solution of this problem must be sought in the +concrete conception of individual personality; and +this will be the theme of the next chapter. But I must +at the very outset utter an emphatic word of warning. +My solution does not remove all difficulties; it cannot +be used as a key to open all doors. For as I have +repeatedly stated, the value of education consists in +the persistence of the problems, ever solved and yet +ever clamouring for a new solution, so that we may +never feel released from the obligation of thinking.</p> +<p>My solution must be simply accepted as affording a +guidance by which different people may, along more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +or less converging lines, approach their particular objectives. +For the problem presents itself under ever-changing +forms, and demands a continuous development, +and almost a progressive interpretation of the +concept which I am going to offer as an aid to its +solution. No effort of thinking, once completed, will +ever exonerate us from thinking, from thinking unceasingly, +from thinking more and more intensively.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_THE_FUNDAMENTAL_ANTINOMY_OF_EDUCATION' id='CHAPTER_III_THE_FUNDAMENTAL_ANTINOMY_OF_EDUCATION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />THE FUNDAMENTAL ANTINOMY OF EDUCATION</span></h2> +</div> +<p>A more precise determination must now be given to +the problem, touched upon in the preceding chapter, +which might be called the <i>fundamental antinomy of +education</i>, understanding by “antinomy” the conflict +of two contradictory affirmations, either one of which +appears to be true and irrefutable.</p> +<p>The two contradictory affirmations are (1) that +man as the object of education is and must be free, +and (2) that education denies man’s freedom. They +might perhaps be better re-stated in this way: (1) +Education presupposes freedom in man and strives to +increase it. (2) Education treats man by ignoring +the freedom he may originally be endowed with, and +acts in such a way as to strip him entirely of it.</p> +<p>Each of the two propositions must be taken, not as +an approximate affirmation, but as an exact enunciation +of an irrefutable truth. Therefore freedom here means +full and absolute liberty; and when we speak of the +negation of freedom, we mean that education as such, +and as far as it is carried, destroys the freedom of the +pupil.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></div> +<p>Let us first see precisely what is meant by this +<i>freedom</i> which we attribute to man. Each one of us +firmly even though obscurely possesses some conception +of it. Every one of us, even though unfamiliar +with the controversies that have raged for centuries +on the question of free will, must have sometimes +been compelled by the conditions of human life to +face the difficulties that beset the concept of man’s +freedom, and must have been led to question, if not +to deny outright, the proposition that man is free. +But on the other hand, every one of us has to admit +that the experience of life has confirmed the belief +in our freedom which for a moment had been shaken +by doubt and perplexity; and that faith, instinctive +and incoercible, outlives every time the onslaughts of +negation.</p> +<p>By liberty we mean that power peculiar to man by +which he moulds himself into his actual being and +originates the series of facts in which every one of his +actions becomes manifest. In nature, all facts, or, as +they are called, all phenomena appear to us to be so +interrelated as to constitute a universal system in which +no phenomenon can ever be considered as absolutely +beginning, but can in each case be traced back to a preceding +phenomenon as its cause, or at any rate as +the condition of its intelligibility. The condensation +of the aqueous vapour in the cloud produces rain; +but vapour would not condense without the action +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +of temperature, nor again would temperature be +lowered without the concurrence of certain meteorological +facts which modify it, etc.</p> +<p>But we believe on the other hand that man derives +from no one but himself the principles and the causes +of his actions. So that whenever we see in his conduct +the necessary effects of causes that have acted on his +character or momentarily on his will, we cease to consider +such acts as partaking of that moral value +through which man’s conduct is really human and completely +sundered from the instinctive impulses of the +lower animal, and even more so from the behaviour of +the forces of inanimate matter.</p> +<p>We may in certain moments deny a man’s humanity, +and see in his conduct only brutal impulse, fierce +cruelty, and unreasoning bestiality. In such moments +we cannot stop either to praise or to blame him. We +do not even strive to reason with him, for we feel +that arguments would produce no impression on his +obdurate consciousness. Only through force can we +defend ourselves from his violence; against him we +must use the same weapon that we rely upon in our +struggle with the wild beasts and the blind forces of +nature. We then become aware that our soul refuses +to recognise such an individual as a man. We esteem +man to be such only when we believe that we can influence +him by words, by arguments that are directed +to reason, which is the birthright of man, and when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +we are able to prevail upon those sentiments of his +which, as peculiarly human, appear to be almost +the foundation and the understructure of rational +activity. This reason and these sentiments it must +be remembered are the peculiar constituents of +human personality. They cannot be imparted to man +from the outside. They are in him from the very +start even if only as germs which he must himself +cultivate, and which will, when developed, enable +him to act consciously, that is, with full knowledge +of his acts. This knowledge is twofold, for he knows +what he is doing, and he knows also how his actions +must be judged. And so all the causes that bear +on him are practically of no weight in determining +a course which he will take, if he is a man, only +after the approval of his own judgment. What is more +natural than to avenge an insult, and to harbour hatred +against an enemy? And yet from the viewpoint of +morals, man is worthy of this name only in so far as +he is able to resist his overpowering passions and to +release himself from that force which compels him to +offset harm with more harm, and meet hatred with +hatred. He must pardon; he must love the enemy +who harms him. Only when a man is capable of +understanding the beauty of this pardon and of such +love, only when, attracted by their beauty, he acts no +longer in compliance with the force of instinctive +nature, does he cease to count as a purely natural +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +being, and lift himself to a higher level into that moral +world where he must progressively exhibit his human +activities. Whether man is equal to this task or not, +we must demand that he satisfy this requirement before +we admit him into the society of mankind. He must +have in himself the strength to withstand the pressure +of external forces which may act on his will, on +his personality, on that inner centre from which his +personality moves towards us, speaks to us, and thus +affirms its existence. We make these demands on him; +and as we extol him when by his deeds he shows sufficient +capacity for his human rôle, so we also blame +him every time we find him through weakness yielding +to these forces. And the import of our blame is that +he is responsible for not having the power which he +should have had.</p> +<p>It is of no importance that out of compassion, or +through sympathy for human frailty, we lighten or +even entirely remove the burden of our censure. Our +disapproval of the deficiency, even though unexpressed, +remains within us side by side with the conviction that +the delinquent may do a great deal, nay, must, aided +by us in the future, do everything in his power to meet +successfully the opposing forces of evil. We surely +cannot abandon the unfortunate wretch who through +moral impotence—whether it be the craven submissiveness +of the coward, or the undaunted violence of the +overbearing brute—commits an evil deed. We feel it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +our duty to watch over him and help him on the road +to redemption, because of our firm conviction that he +will eventually redeem himself; for he is after all a man +like the rest of us, and possesses therefore within himself +the source and principle of a life which will raise +him from the slough in which he lies immersed.</p> +<p>There is, however, a pseudo-science which, on the +basis of superficial and inaccurate observations, dogmatically +asserts that certain forms of criminality +give evidence of original and irremediable moral depravity; +and that therefore persons tainted with it +are fatally condemned never to heed sufficiently the +voice of duty and ever to yield to their perverted +instinct, which presses unrestrained from the depths of +their being at the slightest provocation and on the +occasion of the most insignificant clash with other +human beings.</p> +<p>This is the doctrine of the modern school of criminal +anthropology which has spread throughout the world +the fame of some Italian writers. Though their influence +is now on the wane, their observations on the +pathological nature of criminal acts have contributed +to establish the need of a more humane treatment of +offenders,—more humane because rational and effective.</p> +<p>Their doctrine falls in with a series of systems which +at all times, and always for materialistic motives,—materialistic +even though disguised under religious and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +theological robes,—have denied to man that power +which we call liberty, compelling him therefore to bend +down under the stress of universal determinism, and to +behave as the drop that forever moves with the motion +of the boundless ocean, an insignificant particle of the +entire watery mass. What force intrinsic to this drop +could ever stop it on the crest of the wave which hurls +it forward? Man, they say, is no different from this +drop: from the time of his birth to the instant of his +death, hemmed in by all the beings of nature, acted +upon by innumerable concurrent causes, he is pushed +and dragged at every moment by the irresistible current +of all the forces of the entire mass of the universe. +At times he may delude himself into believing that he +has lifted his consciousness out of the huge flood, that +it is within his power to resist, to stop it as far as he is +concerned, and to control it; that, in short, it rests +with him to fashion his own destiny. But alas! +this very belief, this illusion is the determined result +of the forces acting upon him: it is the inevitable effect +of the play of his representations,—representations +which have not their origin in him, but have been impressed +upon him by outside forces. So that the illusion +of independence is but a mocking confirmation of +the impossibility of escaping the rush of fatal currents.</p> +<p>I shall not here give a critical presentation of the +arguments by which systems such as these have +established the absence of freedom in man. In our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +present need, a single remark will suffice, and will permit +us, I believe, to cut the discussion short. A great +German philosopher, who had conceived science and +reality, which is the object of science, in such a way +as to preclude the possibility of finding in reality a +place for man’s freedom, noticed that freedom, in spite +of all the difficulties which science encounters in accounting +for it, corresponds and answers to an invincible +certitude in our soul, invincible because a postulate +of our moral conscience. That is to say, that whatever +our scientific theories and ideas, we have a conscience +which imposes a law upon us,—a law which, +though not promulgated and sustained by any external +force, or rather because of it, compels us in a manner +which is absolute. This law is the moral law. It +requires no speculative demonstration. The scrutiny +of philosophers might not be helpful to it. It rises +spontaneously and naturally from the intimate recesses +of our spirit; and it demands from our will, from +the will of the most uncouth man, an unconditional +respect. What sense would there be in the word duty, +if man were able to do only those things which his +own nature, or worse still, nature in general, compelled +him to do? The existence of duty implies a power to +fulfil it. And the certitude of our moral obligations +rests on the conviction that we have within us the power +to meet them. We can answer the call of duty because +we are free.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span></div> +<p>This consideration, important as it is, cannot however +be considered as sufficient. For this moral +conscience, this certitude with which the moral conscience +affirms the existence of an unavoidable duty, +might also be an illusion determined in us by natural +causes. Nothing hinders us from thinking thus, and +surely there is no contradiction implied in this explanation, +which in fact because of its possibilities is offered +by the philosophers of materialism.</p> +<p>But the need of liberty is not solely felt when we +strive to conceive our moral obligations; freedom is +not only the ground for existence, the <i>raison d’être</i> of +moral law, as Kant thought—for he is the philosopher +to whom I alluded above;—no! freedom is the condition +of the entire life of the spirit. And the materialist +who, having destroyed liberty as a condition of moral +conduct, believes that he is still able to think, that his +intellectual activity can proceed undisturbed after his +faith in the objective value and in the reality of moral +laws has been abandoned, such a materialistic thinker +is totally mistaken. For without freedom, man not +only is unable to speak of duty, but he cannot speak at +all,—not even of his materialistic views. This is +the same as saying that the negation of liberty is unthinkable.</p> +<p>A brief reflection will make this clearer. We speak +to others or to ourselves in so far as we think, or say +something or make affirmations. Let us suppose that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +ideas be present to our minds (as people have sometimes +imagined) without our looking at them, without +our noticing them. Such ideas would have offered +themselves in vain, in the same way that many material +objects remain unseen before us, because we do not +turn our gaze toward them. Every object of the mind, +that is, every thought, can only be thought because in +addition to it we too are in the mind: our mental activity +is there, the ego of the thinking man, the subject +which is ready to affirm the object. And thought +proper consists in this affirmation of the object by the +subject. Now, the subject, that is, man, must be as free +in the affirmation of his thought, by which he thinks +something, as he must be free in every one of his +actions in order that his action be truly his, and really +human. In fact, we demand of man that he give +an account of his thoughts as well as of his deeds. +We evaluate not only what he does, but also what he +thinks; we praise him or we disapprove of him +because of his sayings, that is, his thoughts, and we +call upon him to correct those thoughts which he +should not entertain. In this way we indicate our +conviction that the thought of each one of us is not +simply a logical consequence of its premises, not an +effect determined by a psychic mechanism set in +motion by the universal mechanism of which our +individual psyche is a part; we are convinced that +thought depends upon man, upon his capacity, upon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +his personality, which is not controlled by any +mechanical forces, nor subject to premises which +he may no longer modify once he has accepted +them. We are the masters of our thinking; and if the +vigour of the human personality is indeed shown by the +steadfast constancy whereby in practical life we pursue +a hard and toilsome course toward an arduous goal, it +is revealed just as much by the quickness, the readiness, +the assiduousness, the lack of prejudice, the love +which we manifest in our search after truth.</p> +<p>It has therefore been said that cognition in man has +moral value, and that on the other hand the will is +operative in the act of the intellect. Such distinctions +are dangerous. But whether we call it will or intellect, +the activity which makes us what we are, by which we +actualise our personality, also by thinking, it is certain +that it is a conscious and discriminating activity, +through no force of gravity precipitating on its object, +but approaching it with selective freedom of determination. +And in the manner that every action aims at the +good, because it seems good, and appears in contrast +with evil, so every cognition is the affirmation of what +to us is or seems to be a truth in opposition to error +and falseness. Without the antithesis of good to evil +there would be no moral action: without the antithesis +of the true to the false there would be no cognition. +But the existence of this antithesis implies a choice +and therefore the liberty of choosing.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span></div> +<p>Should we deny freedom, and consequently abandon +man to the determinism of the causes acting upon +him, we should deny the possibility of distinguishing +between good and evil, between true and false. The +materialist, therefore, when he rejects freedom, is compelled +to affirm that the value which moral conscience +attributes to goodness is devoid of any real grounds, +and what is worse, that his very statement is thereby +stripped of all the value of truth. For he must be +inwardly convinced that what he thinks has no reason +to be thought and therefore cannot be thought.</p> +<p>The negation of freedom leads to this <i>absurdum</i>, +to this impossible thought, which is the Thought that +is being thought as such, and yet does not admit of +being thought. Man, in so far as he thinks, affirms +his faith in freedom, and every attempt on his part +to uproot this faith from his soul is but a glaring confirmation +of its existence. This observation, properly +grasped, is sufficient to establish human freedom on a +solid ground.</p> +<p>Freedom, moreover, which man needs in order to be +human, cannot be, as some have supposed, a relative +liberty, limited and restricted by certain conditions, +for conditional liberty does not differ from slavery. +Here indeed is the very crux of the problem. Every +one would readily admit the existence of a limited +freedom, and the divergence would then be reduced to +a question of degree. But the fact is that freedom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +must be absolute or not be at all. Matter, that is, +every material object, is not free for the very reason +that it is limited; whereas the spirit—every spiritual +act—is free because it is infinite, and as such not relative +to any thing, and therefore absolute.</p> +<p>Any limitation of the spirit would annihilate its liberty. +The slave is such because his will is constrained +within the bounds imposed upon it by the master’s +volition. The human spirit is not free in the presence +of nature because nature envelops it and enfolds it +within narrow confines, which allow only a certain +development; and this development therefore cannot +be looked upon as a grant of nature but rather as a +condemnation, in that it marks out boundaries +which cannot be trespassed. The lower animal is not +free because even if its actions seem to imply a rationality +not very different from that of man, yet in reality +its acts, differently from the doings of man, follow the +straight line pre-established by instinct, which admits +of no original power and allows no individual creation. +If there is a limit, there must be something limiting and +something limited; there must be a necessary relationship +of one to the other, so that the thing limited can in +no way free itself from the consequences of this relationship. +These consequences are summed up in the +impossibility of <i>being all</i>, or in other words in the +necessity of remaining within limits, and to obey therefore +the untransgressable laws set by one’s own nature. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +This necessity which binds every natural being to the +laws of its own nature, this impossibility of being aught +else than what is appointed by nature, to be a wolf of +necessity, and of necessity to be a lamb; this is the +hard lot of natural beings, this is the destiny from +which man is ransomed by the power of his freedom.</p> +<p>The sculptor in the fervour of his inspiration, +which proceeds from the image that lives in his phantasy, +searches eagerly for the marble with which, as +though from the very bosom of nature, he may call to +life the phantom of his mind. He fails in his search, and +his chisel remains, must need remain, inactive. The +artist then in the utmost intensity of his creation is +baffled by an external impediment, by an obstacle of +nature which therefore seems to have the power of limiting +his creative power. But when we consider what +the artist has created in the statue itself, in this living +image of marble, we find nothing that is material. The +artist has transfused into the stone an idea, a sentiment, +a soul, which we, under the influence of the ravishing +power of artistic beauty, are able to seize to the +exclusion of all material attributes; as though we no +longer possessed eyes for the whiteness of the marble +and were deprived of the muscle which gives us the +impression of its physical weight. When we are able +thus to spiritualise the statue—and we do so every +time we get to know it as a work of art—then all limitations +that might be imposed on the creative power of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +the artist disappear. For we see no longer the artist’s +phantasy, and then his arm, and then his hand, his +chisel, the block which he is carving; all we see is the +phantasy soaring untrammelled in the infinite world of +the artist, with his arm, his hand, his marble, his universe +which is totally different from the universe in +which the men live who quarry the marble and move +it and sell it.</p> +<p>There is a point of view from which we see the spirit +limited and enslaved by the conditions in which its +life is unfolded. But there is a higher point of view to +which we must ascend if we are bent on discovering +our freedom. If we say, as the psychologists do, this +is a soul and this is a body, here are sensations, there +is motion, this is thought within us and that is the world +outside of us, then we are obliged to consider the spirit +as conditioned by physical happenings to which in some +manner our internal determinations correspond. It is +not possible to see without eyes and without the light +that strikes them. It is equally impossible not to +see when we have eyes and are surrounded by light, +and according to the greater or lesser velocity of the +luminous waves, we shall of necessity discern now one +colour and now another. And the objects thus seen by +us will determine our thoughts; and in turn our volitions +will depend upon these thoughts; and our characters +will be shaped accordingly, and we shall be this +or that man in conformity with the determination of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +circumstances. Man, according to this conception, will +be the result of time, of place, of environment, of everything +except of his own self.</p> +<p>But there is a higher point of view than the one I +have just described, and to it we must rise, if we mean +to understand our nature,—this marvellous human nature +which was first disclosed to our consciousness at +the advent of Christianity and in the course of time +made more and more manifest, until it now loudly proclaims +in us our human dignity exalted above the +forces of nature, and is empowered by its cognitive +faculty to dominate these forces, which must bend +to man’s purposes without ever blocking or obstructing +his progress. Whosoever says: here is a body +and there is a soul—two things, one outside of the +other—such a man does not consider that these two +things are two terms distinguished and differentiated +by thought in the bosom of thought, that is to say, +of the soul: of that soul which is truer than the +other for the obvious reason that the latter thinks and +therefore reveals its soul-nature by its own acts, +whereas the former is the object of thinking, is a thing +thought, and may therefore be a fallacious entity, an +idolon, and a simple <i>ens rationis</i>, like so many other +things that are thought and are subsequently found to +have no kind of subsistence. In speaking of sensation +and of motion which generates or somehow conditions +sensation, we lose sight of the fact that sensation is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +truly enough a determination of consciousness, but in +the same manner as the motion which is encountered +in consciousness when the latter, in thinking, among +other things thinks the displacement of objects in space.</p> +<p>For everything is within consciousness, and no way +can be devised of issuing forth from it. We say +that the brain is external to consciousness, and that +the cranium encloses the brain, which in turn is enveloped +by space luminous and airy, space filled with +beautiful plants and beautiful animals; yet the fact remains +that brain and skull and everything else are the +potential or actual object of our thinking faculty, and +cannot but remain therefore within that consciousness +to which for a moment we supposed them to be external. +We may start thinking, keeping in mind this indestructible +substance of our thought; and as we proceed +from this centre in which we have placed ourselves as +subjects of thinking, and advance towards an ever-receding +horizon, do we ever come in sight of the point +where we must pause and say: “Here my thought ends; +here something begins that is other than my thought”? +Thought halts only before mystery. But even then it +thinks it as mystery, and thinking it, transforms it, and +then proceeds, and so never really stops.</p> +<p>Such being the true life of the spirit, rightly have we +called it universal. At every throb it soars through the +infinite, without ever encountering aught else than its +own spiritual actualisations. In this life, such as we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +see it from the interior when we do not fantastically +materialise it with our imaginations, the spirit is free +because it is infinite.</p> +<p>Education then posits this liberty in the pupil, for it +presupposes in him a susceptibility of development,—educability, +as we may call it. The learner could +not possibly be educable, that is, susceptible of receiving +instruction, unless he were able to think. But +thinking, we have already seen, signifies freedom. And +not only is freedom presupposed by the educator, but +it is the very thing he is aiming at in his work. As a +result of his teaching, liberty must be developed in +the same manner that the capacity for thinking and all +modes of spiritual activity are developed. For the development +of thought is a development of reflection, a +constant increase of control over our own ideas, over +the content of our consciousness, over our character, +over our whole being in relation to every other being. +And this growth of power is what we mean when we +speak of the development of our freedom. It has been +said, in fact, that education consists in liberating the +individual from his instincts. Surely, education is the +formation of man, and when we say man we mean +liberty.</p> +<p>Here we stumble upon our antinomy. How are +we to reconcile this presupposition and this aim of the +educator with his interference in the personality of the +pupil? This interposition surely signifies that the disciple +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +must not be left to himself and to his own resources; +that he has to clash with something or somebody +that is not his own personality. Education implies +a dualism of terms, the teacher and the learner; +and it is this dualism which destroys the freedom, which +sets a limit, and therefore annihilates infinity in which +freedom consists. The disciple who encounters a +stronger mastering will, an intellect equipped with a +multitude of ideas, with an experience which forestalls +his own powers of observation, and his innate zeal for +investigation, sees in this more potent personality either +a barrier obstructing his progress towards a goal which +he spontaneously would attain; or else a goad which +hurries him along the way which he would have indeed +chosen of his own accord, but along which he would +have liked to advance freely, calmly, joyously, as our +Vittorino da Feltre would have it, and without any unwelcome +compulsion. This pupil then would want to be +left alone in order that he might be free, as free as +God when as yet the world was not and he created +it out of nothing by his joyous <i>fiat</i>, symbol of the +loftiest spiritual liberty.</p> +<p>For these reasons we have come to believe that the +most serious problem of education is the agreement between +the liberty of the pupil and the authority of the +teacher. Therefore great masters who meditated on +the subject of education, from Rousseau to Tolstoi, +have exalted the rights of liberty, but have fallen into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +the opposite extreme of denying the duty to authority, +and have pursued in their abstractions a vague and unrealisable +ideal of negative education.</p> +<p>But we must not cling to negatives. It should be +our purpose to construct, not to destroy. The school, +this glorious inheritance of human experiences, this +ever-glowing hearth where the human spirit kindles and +sublimates life as an object of constant criticism and of +undying love, may be transformed, but cannot be destroyed. +Let the school live, and let us cling to the +teacher and maintain his authority, which limits the +spontaneity and the liberty of the pupil. For this limitation +is only apparent.</p> +<p>Apparent, however, when we deal with true education. +For the school has for centuries been the victim +of a grave injustice. People have been led to consider +the classroom as a place of confinement and of punishment, +and teachers have been cruelly lashed by the +scourge of ridicule cracked in the face of pedantry. +Through this injustice, the school has been burdened +with faults that are not its own, and teachers, genuine +educators, have been confused with the pedantic drill-masters +that are the negation of intelligent education +and of inspired ethical discipline. In order to see +whether education really limits the free activity of the +pupil, we must not consider abstractly any school, +which may not be after all a school. We must examine +an institution at the moment and in the act which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +realises its significance—when the instructor teaches +and the pupils are learning. Such a moment should at +least hypothetically be granted to exist.</p> +<p>Let us take a concrete example and consider a +teacher in the act of giving lessons in Italian. Where +is this something which I have called the Italian language? +In the grammar, perchance? Or in the dictionary? +Yes, partly. Provided grammar can invest +its rules with the life of the individual examples that +together constitute the expressive power of the living +language; and provided the dictionary does not wither +up all words in the arid abstraction of alphabetical +classification; does not hang each of them by itself as +limbs torn from the living body of the speech in which +they had so often resounded and to which they will +be joined again in the fulness of life and expressiveness; +but does instead incorporate, as every good dictionary +should, complete phrases, living utterances of +great authors or perhaps of that nameless many-souled +writer that somewhat confusedly is called the people.</p> +<p>But more than in the grammar and more than in the +dictionary, the word is and exists in the writers themselves. +The teacher should there point it out, as he +guides his pupils through the authors who were able +to express most powerfully our common thoughts. To +his students who are striving to learn the language—that +is the writers—he reads for example the poems of +Leopardi. The poet’s word, his soul hovers over the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +classroom, as the master reads. It penetrates into the +minds of the pupils, hushes every other sentiment, removes +every other thought, and throbs within them, +stirs them, arouses them. It becomes one with the soul +of each pupil, which speaks to itself a language of its +own, using, truly enough, the words of Leopardi, but of +a Leopardi who is peculiar to each of the listeners. +Under this spell, the pupil who hears the poet’s word +echoing in the depths of his being, will he stop to reflect +that this word is the echo of an echo? That he is under +the influence of something repeated after a first utterance? +Our own experience answers: No! But if any +of the audience become absent-minded, if they should +lose the rapt delight of poetical exaltation communicated +to their soul by the teacher’s voice, and should +say that the word they hear is not their own but the +master’s, or rather, the poet’s, then they would commit +a serious blunder. For the word they intently listen to +in their soul is their own, exclusively their own. Leopardi +does not impart any poesy to him who, through +his love, his study, and the intensity of his feelings, is +unable to live his own poetry. And Leopardi (or the +teacher who reads him) is not materially external to +the enraptured listener; he is his own Leopardi, such +as he has been able to create for himself. The master, +as St. Augustine long ago warned us, is within us.</p> +<p>He is within us even if we see him in front of us, +away from us seated in his chair. For in so far as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +is a real teacher, he is ever the object of our consciousness, +surrounded and uplifted in our spirit by the reverence +of our feelings and by our trustful affection. He +is <i>our</i> teacher, he is our very soul.</p> +<p>The dualism then is non-existent when we are educating. +We do notice it before, and we are thus brought +to examine the antinomy; but the difficulty is removed +by the very act of education itself, by the first word +that comes to the pupils’ ears from the lips of the +teacher. The dualism however cannot be resolved if +the master’s word fails to reach the pupils’ soul, but +then under those circumstances there is no education. +But even in such cases, if the teacher is not sluggish, +if he displays a real spiritual power, the abiding existence +of the barrier between the two minds proves helpful +to the spiritual growth of the learner, who, because +of his incoercible freedom, is impelled by the insufficiency +of the master to affirm his personality with increased +vigour. So that the school is a hearth of liberty, +even in spite of the intentions of the teacher. A +school without freedom is a lifeless institution.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_REALISM_AND_IDEALISM_IN_THE_CONCEPT_OF_CULTURE' id='CHAPTER_IV_REALISM_AND_IDEALISM_IN_THE_CONCEPT_OF_CULTURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />REALISM AND IDEALISM IN THE CONCEPT OF CULTURE</span></h2> +</div> +<p>We found it necessary in the previous chapter to pass +from the abstract to the concrete in order to arrive +at the truth. The universality of the individual was +made clear when for the empirical concept of the +individual, abstractly considered, we substituted the +deeper and more speculative one of the individual himself +in the concreteness of his relationships. In like +manner, the fundamental antinomy of education was resolved +as soon as we replaced the abstract idea of the +dualism of teacher and pupil, by the idea of their intrinsic, +profound, unseverable unity as it gradually works +out and is actualised in the process of education. We +were enabled therefore to conclude that the real teacher +is within the soul of the pupil, or, better still, the teacher +is the pupil himself in the dynamism of his development. +So that, far from limiting the autonomy of the +disciple, the master, as the propulsive element of the +pupil’s spontaneity, penetrates his personality, not +to suppress it, but to help its impulses and facilitate +its infinite development.</p> +<p>The same method of resorting to the concrete now +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +leads us to the determination of a third essential element +in the process of education. We have spoken of +the master, and we have spoken of the pupil,—of the +latter as becoming actual as universal personality, of +the former as becoming identical with this same personality. +We must now take up the connecting link +between the two, that is, culture. By culture we mean +the content of education, the presupposed heirloom +which in the course of time must pass from the teacher +to the pupil. This spiritual content, in being apprehended, +appears under different aspects: as erudition +and information; as formation of personal capacities +and training of spiritual activities; as art and science; +as experience of life and as concept and ideal of existence; +as simple cognition and as a norm of conduct. +It includes everything that comes within the scope of +teaching, and from whose value education derives its +peculiar worth.</p> +<p>Culture, so defined, may be conceived of in two +ways; and in as much as their differences are highly +significant in the sphere of education as elsewhere, +we must now somewhat carefully consider them.</p> +<p>These two ways correspond to two opposite conceptions +of reality, and as such they pertain to philosophy. +But men in general constantly have recourse to them, +and so it happens that people frequently indulge in +philosophic speculations without knowing it; and much +philosophising goes on outside of the schools of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +specialists, who are few compared to the great number +of those who in their own way handle genuine concepts +of philosophy.</p> +<p>Let us begin from the most obvious of these concepts, +from the one which is fundamental and original to the +human mind. Our whole life, if we consider the data +of experience, seems to unfold itself on the substratum +of a natural world, which therefore, far from depending +on human life, represents the very condition of it. +In order to live, to act, to produce, or in any way to +exercise an influence on the external world, we must, +first of all, be born. Our birth is the effect of a life +which is not our life, which step by step rises and grows +and spreads until it gathers all nature within itself. +This nature existed before we were born, it will continue +to be after we are all dead. Men draw their life +from an organic and inorganic nature which had to +exist in order that they might come into being. When +nature will cease to provide these conditions, human +life, according to this point of view, will come to an +end; but nature, transformed, chilled, darkened, dead, +will yet continue to be.</p> +<p>On this living trunk of nature our own life is grafted; +animals come into existence, and among animals the +human species. Each of us, as he comes into the +world, finds this nature, developed, abundant, diversified +in millions of forms, traversed by innumerable +forces, organised up to the most highly developed structures, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +man included. We find this nature, and we begin +to study it. We examine its parts one by one, their +complexity, and the difference of their functioning. +For each one of them has its peculiar way of being and +of acting; it has its “laws.” The aggregate of these +laws, mutually corresponding, and integrating one +another, constitutes the natural world—reality—as it +stands before us. With this external reality we strive +to become acquainted; and in order that we may live +in it we either adapt ourselves to it, or adapt its conditions +to ourselves. In this reality too we acquire the +knowledge of the needs of our organism and of the +means by which they may be satisfied,—the ratio, so +to speak, between natural desires and controlled resources.</p> +<p>We are also told that our organism is in constant +change and hurries on to its destination, to our death, +which we abhor as passionately as we cherish life, but +which we accept because such is the law of human +life, fatal and inexorable; for reality is what it is, +and we must adapt ourselves to it.</p> +<p>But if reality appears as constituted before us, as +therefore conditioning our existence, and as existing independently +of us; if it is indifferent to reality whether +we be in it or not; if we are truly extraneous to it, the +conclusion must then be drawn that we, from the outside, +presume to know reality and to move about it +without being this reality itself or any part of it. For +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +all reality is thought by us as a connected whole, +though indeed vaguely; in its totality it is regarded as +an object known to us, but existing in utter independence +of this knowledge of ours. Its whole process is +therefore complete in objective nature, which conditions +our spiritual life, and this in turn can mirror reality +but can never be a part of it.</p> +<p>This then is the primitive and fundamental concept +that the human mind forms of reality. In consequence +of it man feels that he is enclosed within himself: he +knows he is producing the dreams and the fair images +of art; that he can construct inwardly abstract geometrical +figures and numbers; that he can generate +ideas. But he also feels that between these ideal creations +of his own, and the solid, sound, real living forms +of nature, there is an abyss. He must, indeed, fall in +with nature, in the process of generating other living +beings of flesh and blood. He must avail himself of +nature by first submitting to its unfailing laws, if he +intends to give body, that is, real existence, to the ideal +conceptions of his intelligence. On one side then we +have thought; on the opposite side reality,—that reality, +Nature.</p> +<p>This conception at a certain moment is transformed +but not substantially changed. As we begin to reflect, +we notice that this nature, as known to us, is not the +real external nature, the nature which is unfolded in +time and space, which we see before our eyes, an object +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +perceptible by our bodily senses. We conclude then, +that nature as known to us is an <i>idea</i>; that Nature +is one thing and the idea of nature another. And if we +think this perceptible nature and have faith in its reality +and in the reality of its determinations, this nature +in which reality is made to consist is the nature which +is within our thought,—the idea of nature; or in other +words, thought considered as the content of our mind. +This thought is the aim of all the inquiries by which +we strive to become thoroughly acquainted with nature, +and which we finally discover or at least ought to discover +when we succeed in attaining true knowledge. +We say that we know nature only when we are +able to recognise an idea in nature: that is, an idea in +each of its elements, and a system of ideas in the whole +of nature. So that what we know is not really nature +as it presents itself to our senses, still less nature as +it is, before it has impressed our senses; but nature as +disclosed to us by thought, as it exists in thought—i.e., +the idea. And this idea must be real, otherwise +nature, which has its truth in the idea, could not be +real. Not only is it real, it is that reality itself which +a moment ago we were led to think of as consisting in +external perceptible nature.</p> +<p>This reality makes the life of our thought possible, +but it is not a product of this life. It is a condition +and a prerequisite of thought, and as such it does not +exist because we think it: but rather we are able to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +think it because it exists. It is eternal truth, at first +unknown to man, then by him desired. In quest of it +he gradually lifts on all sides the veil which hides it +from his eyes, without however hoping that it will ever +entirely disclose to him its divine countenance.</p> +<p>According to this transformed point of view, then, +reality, which in the first instance appeared to be +natural, that is physical or material, has now become +ideal. But even thus it remains extraneous to thought, +and unconcerned with the presence or the absence of +it; transcending the entire life of the human spirit, and +incessantly subject to the danger of error. Whereas +the idea as a complexus of all ideas that can be +thought (but have not been thought, or rather have +not all been thought) is the beacon of light that guides +the way of man in the ocean of life; it is Truth pure +and perfect.</p> +<p>This idea evidently must not be confused with the +purely subjective ideas which we spoke of above, and +which as such are extraneous to reality. This idea is +reality itself idealised. It is to this idea, for instance, +that we all appeal when we affirm the existence of a justice +superior to that of which man is capable, of a justice +in behalf of which man is in duty bound to sacrifice +his private interests, and even his life. This idea we +have in mind when we speak of a sacred and inviolable +right, whereas in daily practice there is perhaps no right +which is not more or less trampled upon. This idea +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +is before us when we consider truth in general: truth +which is indeed real, even though it may not be seen or +felt, much more real than physical nature, for nature +comes to life and dies and constantly changes, while +truth is motionless, impassible, eternal. In its bosom +then we must try to find everything that we want to +accept as not illusory.</p> +<p>But in substituting the conception of an ideal reality +for the conception of a material one, reality as a whole +continues to be something contradistinguished from us, +an object indeed of our thoughts, but one which cannot +be conceived as it is in itself except by abstracting +it from our own thought.</p> +<p>We, then, who open our eager eyes in the endeavour +to discover, to know, to orient ourselves, to live in the +midst of a known and familiar world; we, thinking beings, +and not simply things of nature, beings who as +such affirm our personality in the very act of saying +<i>We</i>, we then are of less account than the earthworms +which crawl along until they die unknown to the foot +that crushes them. We are nothing because we do not +belong to reality; we deceive ourselves into believing +that we are doing something on our own account, but +in truth we renounce every desire of doing or creating +something original, something we might really call +ours; and we abandon ourselves, we drift away confused +with external reality and submerged under the +irresistible current of its laws.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></div> +<p>This conception of life, which I have given only in +its barest outline, is a very common one. For thousands +of years it has persisted in the philosophical +field, the nourishment and the torment of the greatest +intellects of humanity. But humanity could not rest +satisfied with a world conceived in such a manner; +with a world which, whether we call it nature or idea, +is at bottom always nature. For by nature we understand +not only that reality which is in space and time, +but also every reality which is not the product of +our will, nor the result in general of that spiritual +activity, which in a manner peculiar to all human acts +reveals a diversity of values, extending from the sublimity +of heroism and of genius to the lowest depths +of cowardice and to the gloom of sloth. Nor can it +be considered as the product or result of a process; +for it is immediate reality, original and immutable. +In a world which is Nature, man is an intruder, a +stranger without rights, without even real existence. +As a being, he is destined to be suppressed; nay, he +does not even exist. And his life, with all his aspirations, +his needs, his claims, is but a fallacious illusion +which will sooner or later collapse. Man cannot help +succumbing in a world where there is no place for +him. Therefore a more or less cloudy gust of pessimism +lowers over the consciousness that has stopped +at this conception of reality. Leopardi is the most +eloquent expression of the intense misery to which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +man is condemned in such circumstances, or to which +rather he condemns himself. He condemns himself because +he has it in his power to conceive reality otherwise. +For let him ponder seriously and he will succeed +in convincing himself that the naturalistic conception of +reality is absurd. Philosophy has so demonstrated this +truth, that he who now strives eagerly to attain a moral +point of view in harmony with established principles +can no longer repeat that note of pessimism, can no +longer assert that the world is nature, or that it is the +eternal idea from which nature is derived and by which +it is made intelligible. Such views are no longer tenable.</p> +<p>The teacher who, because of his lofty mission, claims +the right of forming souls, of arousing those powerful +moral energies which alone empower man to live as a +human being, may not, must not be ignorant of the +fact that the contention of naturalism, which makes of +the world an abstract reality, presupposed by the +human spirit and therefore anterior and indifferent to +it, is a belief that has been superseded and surpassed +by modern thought. The teacher too can easily grasp +this view, for in gathering all the arguments by which, +along different lines, the new conception of reality has +been attained, we find that the whole matter reduces +itself to a simple and very easy reflection. Very easy +in itself, though it may seem difficult to the greater +part of us,—to the superficial thinkers, to the absent-minded, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +to those who lack the strength necessary +to face the great responsibility imposed upon us +by the truth which is derived from this reflection.</p> +<p>For naturalism reduces itself to the affirmation that +we think nature, but do not ourselves exist; nature +alone exists. We do not exist and yet we think, and +we think of nature as existing. We do not exist and +yet nature exists, of whose existence we have no other +testimony than our thoughts. And if thought is a +shadow, what will reality then be? The “dream of a +shadow,” in the words of the Greek poet. Is it possible +for us to stop at this conclusion? Is it possible +for an inexistent thing to vouch for the existence of +something which we know only from its attestations? +Such is the absurd position we are forced into when we +assume that Thought, in equipoise with reality, remains +outside of it and leaves it out of its own self.</p> +<p>We give the name of realism to that manner of thinking +which makes all reality consist in an external existence, +abstract and separate from thought, and makes +real knowledge consist in the conforming of our ideas to +external things. By idealism on the other hand we +mean that higher point of view from which we discover +the impossibility of conceiving a reality which is not +the reality of thought itself. For it reality is not the +idea as a mere object of the mind, which therefore can +exist outside of the mind, and must exist there in +order that the mind may eventually have the means +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +of thinking it. Reality is this very thought itself +by which we think all things, and which surely +must be something if by means of it we want +somehow to affirm any reality whatsoever, and +must be a real activity if, in the act of thinking, it will +not entangle itself in the enchanted web of dreams, +but will instead give us the life of the real world. If +it is not conceivable that such activity could ever go +forth from itself and penetrate the presumably existent +world of matter, then it means that it has no need +of issuing from itself, in order to come in contact with +real existence; it means that the reality which we call +material and assume to be external to thought is in +some way illusory; and that the true reality is that +which is being realised by the activity of thought itself. +For there is no way of thinking any reality except by +setting thought as the basis of it.</p> +<p>This is the conception, or, if you will, the faith, not +only of modern philosophy, but of consciousness itself +in general, of that consciousness which was gradually +formed and moulded under the influence of the deeply +moral sentiment of life fostered by Christianity. For it +was Christ that first opposed to nature and to the flesh +a truer reality,—not the world in which man is born, +but that world to which he must uplift himself: that +world in which he has to live, not because it is anterior +to him, but because he must create it by his will: and +this world is the kingdom of the spirit.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span></div> +<p>In accordance with this conception there is, properly +speaking, no reality: there is a spirit which creates reality, +which therefore is self-made and not the product +of nature. The realist speaks of external existence, of +a world into which man is admitted and to which he +must adapt himself. But the idealist knows only what +the spirit does, what man acts. A nature, ever at work +in the progress of the spirit, throbs in the soul of man, +who with his intellect and his will re-creates it by its +restless, unceasing motion. It is a world which is never +created, because the entire past flows and becomes +actual in that form which is peculiar to it and in which +it exists, namely, the present,—history in the incessant +rhythm of its becoming, in the ever-living act of +self-production.</p> +<p>On what side of the controversy should the teacher +stand who means to absorb into his soul the life of the +school? Will he with the realists believe in a reality +which must be observed and verified? Or will he as an +idealist trust that the only world is the one which is +to be constructed by him; that in all this task he +can rely only on the creative activity of the spirit that +moves within us, ever unsatisfied with what is, incessantly +aspiring for what does not yet exist, for what +must come to be as being the only thing which deserves +to exist and to fulfil life?</p> +<p>There are then these two ways of conceiving culture, +the realistic and the idealistic. By the former we are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +led to imagine that man’s spirit is empty, and that no +nourishment can come to it except from the outside +world, from those external elements which he can acquire +because they exist prior to the activity by which +he assimilates them. The latter, admitting only what +is derived from the developing life of the spirit, can +conceive of culture solely as an immanent product of +this very life, and separable from it only by abstraction.</p> +<p>It is evident that the ordinarily accepted view of +educators to-day is realistic rather than otherwise. +The ideal and therefore the historical origin of the +school itself is intimately connected with the realistic +presupposition. For the school begins when man for +the first time becomes aware of the existence of a store +of accumulated culture which should be protected from +dispersion. Grammar, for instance, exists before the +notion of teaching it arises. Men already possess a +language when they make up their minds to teach it to +their children. Self-taught and inventive genius, by +new observation and discoveries, gives rise to new disciplines; +and men, discovering the value of such disciplines, +determine to institute a school where they may +be cultivated and handed down to the coming generations. +In general then, first comes knowledge; then the +school as a depository of it. It may be granted that +the progress of learning is made possible or at least +accentuated by educational institutions; but the fact remains +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +that the school is founded on pre-existing knowledge. +Science, arts, customs must exist before they can +be taught to others, and they do exist, but not in the +spirit of the one who is to acquire them, who must +appropriate them as they are in themselves. The +<i>Iliad</i> exists: Homer sang: the poems attributed to +him were collected into an epic from which we learn +of the beliefs, of the aspirations, and of the memories +that were dear to the ancient Greeks, and every cultivated +person to-day must derive from them his own +spiritual substance. The teacher shows to his pupils +how best to read, how to understand that epic which is +a treasure of the past bequeathed not only to the modern +Greeks but to humanity in general. For we all +profit from this inherited spiritual wealth in the same +manner that every man that comes into the world enjoys +the light and the heat of the sun which he surely +did not kindle in heaven.</p> +<p>The fact that culture, as the subject matter of education, +exists before the exercise of that spiritual activity +which can be educated only through its means, seems to +the realist a condition without which the school cannot +arise. Only as culture develops and spreads does the +school grow and expand; and, in the progress of civilisation, +as culture becomes specialised, the school is +correspondingly differentiated into institutions of ever-growing +specialisation. For the school can but follow +and reflect the advance of science, of letters, of art,—of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +humanity in general in all <ins title='Was its'>it</ins> strives to perpetuate.</p> +<p>All this evidently can be maintained only from the +point of view of the realist. For him the school is concerned +not with those that already know and therefore +have no need of it, but for those who are still ignorant. +For them it is instituted; it ministers to their needs, +and is therefore adjusted in the direction in which it +believes their spirit should be oriented. In the school +of physicians, there is not medicine but the learning of +it, for if the art of healing were already mastered as it +seems to be in the case of the professors, there would +be no need of a medical school. There is indeed the +professor in the lecture room; but he is there only for +the learners, and his rôle has no meaning except in +relation to their needs. He is the possessor of science, +and as such he teaches and does not learn. The school +then is not the possession of culture, but the development +of a spiritual life aspiring to this possession; +and this aspiration is possible because of the existence +of the teacher who has already mastered it, who possesses +it, not as his own property, but as social wealth +entrusted to him for the use of everybody. He himself +is only an instrument of communication. Culture antedates +him; it does so even when he is the author of +it. For it is not possible for him to impart it to others +until he has first elaborated it himself, and not until +the merits of his contributions have been in part at +least recognised by the world.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div> +<p>The school to the realist presupposes the library. +The teacher needs books, plenty of books in order +to increase his knowledge and thus become better +acquainted with that world through which he has to +pilot his pupils. In the books, then, in the long shelves, +culture lives: in the innumerable volumes that no one +ever hopes to read; in the shelves which contain a world +of beautiful things, and so valuable that man, as Horace +says, should spend sleepless nights in order to acquire +them, should endure cold and heat, fatigue and sacrifice. +For humanity, we are told, lives in those volumes +to which the teacher must somehow link himself if he +intends to advance properly, to live the life which our +forefathers have generously endowed for us, and to +protect our spiritual inheritance from dispersion. In +this atmosphere he must live; he must plunge in that +spiritual sea which rolls limitless across the centuries. +The pupil looks out upon this ocean which allures +every man who is born to the life of culture. At first +he clings to the shore, dreads the water, and asks to be +helped until he has at least become familiar with the +element. Who will encourage the beginner to leave +the dry land and plunge into the deep where he would +meet sure destruction? He must first be trained in +some sheltered cove, where protected from the violence +of the tumultuous surf, from the might of the indivisible +mass of the ocean, he may gradually learn +the ways of the deep.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></div> +<p>The student must accordingly begin with a definite +book; he must be saved from the haunting power of +the library, which draws the youthful mind towards +every volume, towards every subject. In the multitude +of books, not all of them read, not all of them +readable, thought founders, sees nothing, thinks nothing, +is unable to rest in any of the things which he +imagines exist in the vast library shelves. He must +choose. Let him select, say, Dante. He reads the +<i>Divine Comedy</i>, the poem written by that great Italian +who has been dead these six centuries and now rests +at Ravenna, no longer mindful of his Francesca, of his +magnanimous Farinata, of his kindly master Brunetto, +or of Beatrice. Dante created his miraculous world, he +breathed life into his characters, wrote the last line of +his last canto, smiled in rapture at the divine beauty +of his creation, now complete and perfect, and died. +His manuscript was copied thousands of times; and +after the discovery of printing, millions of copies were +made. In one of these we now are able to find it, this +divine poem, just as it was written,—for we want it +exactly as it flowed from his pen without the change +of a letter, without the omission of a comma. And this +volume is an example of what exists in a library,—of +the culture that teachers strive to find there, and thence +communicate to their pupils!—something that belongs +to the world, something which is a part of reality, +which men therefore can grasp, if they want to, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +just as they can get to know the stars and the plants, +and all things of nature. The <i>Divine Comedy</i> can be +realistically conceived in respect to us who open the +volume and prepare to read it, for the reason that it +already exists and arouses our desire. If we had left it +on the shelf where it was resting, it would have had +exactly the same existence. What we find in the volume, +as we read of that land of the dead which is much +more living than all the living beings who surround us +in our daily life, would all of it have been in that +book, would have continued to be there, even if we had +never opened it.</p> +<p>But is it really so? If we reflect a while we shall +see that this is not the case. The book contains exactly +what we find there, what we are capable of finding +there, nothing more, nothing less. Different persons +discover in it different things, but it is nevertheless obvious +that for each individual the book contains only +what he finds in it; and in order to be able to say that +the book contains more than what a given reader discovers +in it, it is necessary that some other person +should find that something more; and that the text contains +this additional beauty is only true for him who +discovered it and for those who seek it after him.</p> +<p>Dante waited for centuries for De Sanctis<a name='FNanchor_0001' id='FNanchor_0001'></a><a href='#Footnote_0001' class='fnanchor'>[1]</a> to appear +and to disclose the meaning of Francesca’s words. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +Therefore it has been said that to understand Dante is +a sign of greatness. Abstractly considered, of course, +the poet is what he is, but only in the abstract. In +the concrete, Dante is the author whom we admire +and appreciate proportionately to our power. For as +we read the poem in accordance with our training, and +the development of our personality, Dante is grafted +on a trunk which did not exist before us, which, on the +contrary, is our very life; and before this life is realised, +evidently none of those things can be found there +which actually come into being in the process of its +realisation. So that if we had not read the book, far +from its being true that everything we found in it would +still continue to be there, nothing would remain of +what we find in it, absolutely nothing.</p> +<p>We have said nothing of “what <i>we</i> find.” But if we +consider the matter we shall see that what we find is +everything; everything for me; everything for everybody. +Only that can come out of a book which the +reader with his soul and with his labours is capable of +getting out of it; and in consequence of these labours +and in virtue of his soul he is able to say that a certain +book has a content. In fact, to return to our example, +the <i>Divine Comedy</i> which we know, the only one which +we can know, the only one which exists, is the one +which lives in our souls, and which is a function of +the criticism that interprets it, understands it, and +appreciates it. That <i>Divine Comedy</i> therefore did not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +close the circle of its life on the day when Dante wrote +the last line of the last canto; it continued to live, still +continues to exist in the history, in the life of the spirit. +Its life never draws to a close. The poem is never +finished.</p> +<p>This is true of the poem of Dante; it is true of everything +which we conceive of as inherited from our great +predecessors, from those who built up the patrimony of +human culture. Culture then is not before us, a treasure +ready to be excavated from the depths of the earth, +awaiting to be revealed to us. Culture is what we ourselves +are making; it is the life of our spirit.</p> +<p>Abstract culture, on the contrary, is merely as realistically +conceived. It slumbers in the libraries, in the +sepulchres of those who lived, who passed away and +created it once for all. It belongs to the past, to the +things that have died. But the past, if we really mean +to grasp it, if we want to see it close by as something +that is and not merely as an abstraction, the past itself, +becoming the present, made into that actuality which +we call living memory, is history,—history constructed +by us, meditated by us, re-created by us, in accordance +with our abilities;—and with our powers of evocation +we awaken the past from its slumber and breathe into +it the life of the spiritual interests, of the ideas, of the +sentiments that are, after all, the living substance +in which the past really survives, in which it is real. +In the same way the only culture that can be bestowed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +upon the spirit, the only one that admits +of being concretely taught and learned, the only one +that can be sought, because it is the only one that really +exists, is idealistic culture. It is not in books, nor in +the brains of others. It exists in our own souls as it +is gradually being formed there. It cannot therefore +be an antecedent to the activity of the spirit, since it +consists in this very activity.</p> +<p>This must be the faith of all those who cannot bring +themselves to believe that they are strangers in this +world, and that they have come here to exercise a function +which is not their own. For the world in general, +and the sphere of culture in particular, is not completed +when we arrive upon the scene. This is why human +life has a value, why education is a mission.</p> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0001' id='Footnote_0001'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0001'><span class='label'>[1]</span></a> +<p>Francesco de Sanctis, a great Italian critic, whose “History of +Italian Literature” is still unfortunately inaccessible in English.</p> +</div> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_THE_SPIRITUALITY_OF_CULTURE' id='CHAPTER_V_THE_SPIRITUALITY_OF_CULTURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />THE SPIRITUALITY OF CULTURE</span></h2> +</div> +<p>The idealistic conception of culture enables us to get +an initial understanding of the spirituality of the +school. This spirituality is surely felt by all those who +live within the class-room; but it should be understood +in the most rigorous and absolute manner by those who +wish to have a deeper consciousness of the extreme delicacy +of the tasks performed and the words uttered by +those who enter it with the sincere heart and the pure +soul of the teacher.</p> +<p>The school is obviously not the hall which contains +the teacher and the pupils. These may have a hall, +may even have the teacher, without yet possessing the +school, which consists in the communication of culture. +This culture, we have seen, is not really pre-existent +to the act which communicates it; it is not to be found +in books, not to be looked for in an ideal transcendent +world, not to be demanded of the teacher. It is only +in the spirit of the person who is in the act of learning. +It is there in the manner in which it is possible for it +to be there, not comparable to any presumed form of +pre-existing culture. The school gains its existence +entirely in the soul of the learner.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></div> +<p>Knowledge is not to be found beyond the bounds of +the human spirit. I insist on this conception because +I am well aware that the minds of many rebel against +this conclusion, no matter how irrefutable its grounds +may be. For they ask: what then is the learning which +we ascribe to the master minds of humanity, now indeed +dead but still active in their works? They also +ask how we are able to think and account for that +learning which we feel we are not originating, which +we know we are re-acquiring for ourselves after it has +many times been in the domain of others.</p> +<p>Can we really consider as non-existent what we as +yet do not know, may perhaps never know, but which +is none the less capable of being known? When we +are filled with reverence for the glory of men whose +learning surpasses our powers, are we the victims of +an illusion? Are we prevailed upon by ignorance and +lack of reflection? And how then can we justify the +cult which every civilised man consecrates to the +mighty spirits—philosophers, poets, artists, and heroes—who +added so much to the moral fund of humanity? +Was there not a Dante six centuries back, who composed +a lofty poem, which was admired by everybody, +at a time when we, who now read it and bring it to life +in our souls, were still so far removed from the entrance +of this life?</p> +<p>The answer to all these questions is very simple, so +simple that we must be careful lest we miss its significance. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +All this lore of the past which we strive to preserve +surely does exist; it does contain all the names +which are sacred to the memory of humankind. The +<i>Divine Comedy</i> has been written and no longer awaits +its Dante. But this lore of the past, as we for brevity’s +sake call it, is nothing else than what <i>we think</i> as such. +History, as it unfolds itself from century to century, +is never compressed within a past which because +of its completeness might be made to exist beyond the +present and in opposition to it; but it exists in a past +which is in the present as a plant that grows or an +animal that lives, never adding anything new to the +old, always transforming the old into the new; at no +time, therefore, having anything but what is new, never +being anything else but the new. In history, thus comprehended, +we to-day are but one person with the men +who thought before us, with the poets, the philosophers, +the spiritual creators of the past. With them we are +a person that grows and develops, ever acquiring, never +losing; a single being that apprehends and recalls and +constantly makes all his past bear fruit in the present. +Our childhood has not completely passed away into +nothing: it keeps returning to the ever-busy phantasy +that tenderly fondles it, cherishes it, idealises it into +poetry. If we consider this childhood as something +that once was, that existed in utter ignorance of this +poetry that was yet to be written, that could not then +be written, surely this infancy is quite dead; we should +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +rather say that it never existed. But it does live as +the childhood which is a recollection, which arouses +feelings, and such feelings as are at a given moment +the actual sentiment of the adult. Once in the years +long gone by a kindly word reached the depths of my +soul. We all have heard in the years long gone by some +such kindly words that in the mystery of our childish +mind appeared as a revelation. Such words as fall from +the lips of a mother and inspired by her tender affection +have the secret power of appeasing us in a moment of +rage, and of making us feel the gentle sweetness of +that goodness which is made of love. We may since +have forgotten that word, and the circumstances in +which it was uttered: but it is none the less true that +on that day our soul was modified and became endowed +almost with a sixth sense. This sense has enabled us +subsequently to perceive so many things that are beautiful +in life, and it in turn grew stronger because of +frequent use and increasing exercise, until it finally +became the most potent organ of our moral personality. +Here too our development has been a constant acquiring +with no losing: a preserving of the past by which it +was converted into the present, and therefore annulled +as past pure and simple.</p> +<p>Such is the moral development of man, who believes +himself an individual, but is in truth humanity considered +momentarily in one of its fragments. Such is history: +the unfolding of the spirit in its universality. It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +is not therefore difficult to determine what is the past +culture in which we desire to graft our present one. It +is our own actual culture in so far as it is not the patrimony, +not the spiritual life of the isolated individual, of +a particular being; but is instead the life of the spirit +in its universality, the development of the human personality +taken in its effective, historical concreteness.</p> +<p>The past with its entire content is a projection of our +actual consciousness, i.e., of the present. But we must +not give this proposition a sceptical sense. As I have +already pointed out, the present neither in the particular +individual nor in the universal history of the spirit, +is sundered from the past by that abyss which is ordinarily +seen from a materialistic point of view. The +past is one and the same thing with the present. The +past <i>is</i> the present in its inmost substance; and the +present is the past that has matured. The grain of +wheat which was buried in the furrow is now no longer +to be found under the glebe. It lives, multiplied in the +ear of wheat. The seed as such was decomposed and +destroyed in the soil; it is there no more, it sprung +thence as a blade of grass, it grew, was transformed, +still is, still lasts, and will continue to endure in other +forms. Where is it now? Why, in whatever form it +may now have assumed. It is the past in the present, +as the present.</p> +<p>So then, what is Dante the poet who towers over +the centuries, the object of our admiration, the master +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +of all who speak and use the Italian language? He is +the lordly poet of the fourteenth century, not because +he then lived his own individual life, but because he +survives to-day in us who think him, who appreciate +him even when we are not fully acquainted with him. +In this sense he lives in us, as the seed does in the ear +of corn.</p> +<p>I have just hinted at the possibility of appreciating +something without fully understanding it. I wanted to +make clear how impossible it is to separate, with a clean +cut, knowledge from ignorance. It is far from true that +before taking up a certain science we know absolutely +nothing about it,—that the boy who goes to school for +the first time is completely devoid of all knowledge, or +that he who is in quest of a book which he has never +read can in no way whatever speak about it.</p> +<p>For fair renown begets love for the unseen person, +as the poet reminds us and as experience often teaches. +Frequently we know of the existence and the beauty +of a woman whom we have never seen, but who is not +therefore completely unknown to us. So also many +of us desired to go to school long before we had +seen the inside of a classroom. What is dearer than +the joy foretasted at the first imaginings of school? +We look forward to that new life upon which +we are about to enter in the company of our bigger +brothers and of our older playmates. They have told +us so many things about it. From their accounts and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +from the fond memories of our parents we already +know the school before we approach it, and its pleasing +aspects invite us into the classroom.</p> +<p>For the same reason we search for books we have +never seen, and we are drawn towards new studies and +pursuits. There is no leaping from ignorance to knowledge, +as from pitch darkness to noon-tide brilliancy. +The transition is imperceptible, as when the dim morning +twilight merges into the first glimmerings of dawn, +which in turn fade away under the dazzling flashes of +sunrise. And even from the midst of darkness we +yearn for a world which though unseen is somehow +present to our consciousness, already illumined by our +thought, warmed by our sentiments. Or, in other +words, the culture which we do not yet possess, and +which we expect to get at school, is already implanted +in our mind, where it will sprout and grow and bear +fruit, fused and confused with the life of our spirit.</p> +<p>Having now reached this point, can we define culture? +I am inclined for a moment to assume the rôle +of Don Ferrante in Manzoni’s novel.<a name='FNanchor_0002' id='FNanchor_0002'></a><a href='#Footnote_0002' class='fnanchor'>[2]</a> By pedantic +ratiocinations he proved that the plague could not be +a contagious disease: “for,” he said, “in nature everything +is either a substance or an accident.” Contagion, +he then went on to prove, could neither be the one nor +the other; therefore the plague was but an influx of the +stars, and there could be no use in taking precautions; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +and having proved this, he fell a victim to the epidemic, +and died cursing the stars like an operatic hero. Let +us follow for a moment in the footsteps of this pedant, +whose method, ridiculous as it may seem, has had +nevertheless a glorious history, and one which Manzoni +himself admired.</p> +<p>I say: We can think only and we do think only two +kinds of reality,—person or thing. Every one of us +is naturally drawn to this distinction; and when we +have formulated it, we feel more or less vaguely, more +or less clearly, that every possibility is comprised within +these two terms, that outside of them it is impossible to +think any reality whatsoever. The reason is this: if +we think, if we act, if we live, we inevitably place ourselves +in a situation such that we on one side are as +centre, as beginning, or as subject of our activity; and +on the other side are the objects toward which our activity +is directed and by which it is terminated. <i>We</i> +therefore as subject of the entire surrounding world; +and <i>this world</i> as the end of our thoughts and of our +scientific inquiries, end of our desires and of our practical +activity; the world which is represented in our +consciousness, and which we strive to dominate by our +labours, and our reason. Can there be anything else +beside <i>us</i> and what <i>we</i> think?</p> +<p>The world which we think and which we oppose to +ourselves seems at first to contain different kinds of +objects. There seem to be both persons and things; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +simple objects of cognition which we ordinarily call +<i>things</i> which can never become subjects; and persons +who at first are represented to us as objects of our +knowing, of our love, and of our hatred, as ends of our +activity; but who under a closer scrutiny are transformed +before our eyes into knowing and acting subjects, +who, in other words, become just exactly what we +are. But when we really get to know these beings that +surround us as subjects on an equal basis, then we +cease to consider them as objects of our cognition, and +as solely endowed with that material objectivity which +at first put them in the same category with the inanimate +things, with plants and animals. We then find +them close to us, very close: fused with our own spiritual +substance. We feel them to be our fellow men, our +kinsmen, with whom we constitute that person of whose +existence I am aware every time I say <i>We</i>: the person +we must take into account whenever we wish to affirm +our personality in a concrete manner, the only person, +the one subject, the true subject of human knowledge +and of human activity. The subject which knows and +acts as a universal in the interests of all men, or rather +in behalf of the <i>one man</i> in whom all single individuals +are united and with whom they are all identified.</p> +<p>Then if we give a rigorous and exact meaning to the +expressions, “We and what is before us,” “We and the +objects,” “We and the World,” we have a correct +classification of all thinkable reality differentiated into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +persons and things, but with the understanding that all +persons are in reality one Person.</p> +<p>One <i>person</i>, and things innumerable! As we look +about us, we find the horizon peopled with thousands +and millions and infinite quantities of objects, which +may one by one attract our attention, and may be +gathered up in the vast, unbounded picture surveyed +by the eye as it moves on from thing to thing, +incessantly, without ever reaching the last. The +world which we first discover is the world of matter, +of things which strike our senses. This world +rushes impetuously into our mind at the beginning +of our natural experience. And these material +objects are many not only <i>de facto</i> but also <i>de jure</i>. +They must be, they cannot but be many if we are to +consider them as material things. It is their peculiar +nature, it is their very essence to be an indefinite multitude.</p> +<p>A material thing means a thing occupying space. +And space is made up of elements, each one of which +excludes all the others and is therefore conceived independently +of the others, must so be conceived. For +it is the very nature of space to be divisible. When +it is narrowed down to a point and cannot be further +subdivided, then it ceases to be space. Its divisibility +signifies that space is nothing more than the sum of its +parts; that it contains nothing in addition to these +parts; that it therefore resolves itself into them without +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +at all losing its being and without any of the parts +being deprived of anything which was theirs in the +whole. In fact, if anything were lost of the entire +whole, this loss could not but be felt in each single +part. A book, considered as a material thing, is composed +of a certain number of printed leaves stitched +together; and if the leaves fall apart, they may be +brought together again so that they will compose the +same book as before. An iron rod weighs the same +before and after it has been broken up into parts.</p> +<p>Things cease to be exclusively and solely material +when, though they may be divisible in a certain respect, +they are nevertheless indivisible in another respect. +Plants, animals, all living organisms, considered simply +as objects occupying space and as therefore having +certain dimensions, admit surely of being separated into +parts. Trees are cut into logs, sawed into boards; +animals are slaughtered and quartered. But considered +from the point of view of its peculiar quality, of the +essential property which distinguishes it from all other +bodies, an organism is not divisible. If we do divide +it, each component part ceases to be what it previously +was when conjoined with the others. Such a part cannot +be preserved; it withers, it decays, and is dispersed, +so that the whole can never be reconstituted. The various +parts of an organism, considered as such, are inseparable, +because each of them is and maintains itself +on the strength of its relations to the others, forming +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +with them a true and essential unity. If we however +try to find out what this unity is by which all the limbs +are indissolubly held together, we shall discover nothing +which can be observed and represented spatially, nothing +endowed with dimensions, however small, after the +manner of the several limbs which this unity fuses +within itself and vivifies.</p> +<p>If unity which is the life-giving principle of every +organism could be spatially represented, or in other +words, if it were something material, it would be one +of those very limbs that have to be unified, and could +not then be the unifying principle itself. Hence the +vanity of the efforts on the part of materialistic physiologists +who obstinately strive to explain life by observing +the parts which compose the organic mass, by +studying the concurrence of their processes, their chemical +relationships, and their mechanism. A material +being, organically constituted, is something more than +a material thing pure and simple: it announces already +a higher principle; it presages the spirit.</p> +<p>But the things that we all agree to regard as spiritual +defy absolutely every attempt at division. A poem +may be considered in a certain way as material, and +may accordingly be divided into various parts,—stanzas, +lines, words. But it is clear that such +a separation cannot have the value which we assign to +the divisions of things material. For in their case every +part can stand by itself, and is in no way deprived of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +its characteristic being; whereas every part of a poem, +stanza, verse, word, calls out and responds to every +other part; and if isolated from them, loses the meaning +which it had in the context; or rather it loses every +meaning, and consequently perishes. It is true that by +conjectures we interpret even very small fragments of +ancient poems. But we do so only in so far as we +claim the possibility of restoring approximately the +entire poem in which the given fragment may live, by +which it may be restored to life. Likewise all the words +lined up in dictionaries are as so many bleeding limbs +of living discourses, to which they must somehow or +other be ideally reconnected, if we are to understand +what they really were and what functions they had. +Multiplicity of parts in things of the spirit is only apparent: +it must be reduced to indivisible unity, from +which every element of the multiplicity derives its +origin, its substance, and its life, so that we may give +to it a real meaning and a foundation.</p> +<p>Nor is this the only unity possessed by the things +that are assumed to be spiritual. We have already considered +the unity whereby, for example, the words of +a poem cannot be separated from the poem itself, in +which each of them acquires a particular accent, a particular +expression, and therefore a particular individuality. +We shall now consider another unity. He who +really perceives a poem is not confronted by an observable +thing, compact if you will, unseverable and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +united, but none the less independent of human personality. +Poetry is only understood when in the flowing +unity of its verses and in the continuous rhythm +of its words we grasp a sentiment in its development, +a soul’s throb in a moment of its life, a man, a personality. +The poetry of Dante is very different from that +of Petrarch, because each is the expression of a powerfully +distinct personality. Any composition of these +poets is understood and enjoyed only when we feel in +it the personal accent which distinguishes one poetical +personality from the other. A poet without individuality +has no significance whatsoever, and therefore +no existence as a poet. But the real artist leaves his +imprint more or less markedly in all his productions, +so that in every given instance, over and beyond the +variety of the subject matter, we feel the living soul +of the poet. A poem then is the poet; it is a person +and not a thing. And the same can be said, as we can +easily see, of all things that are commonly called +spiritual.</p> +<p>But in addition to things material, it seems that there +are immaterial ones which do not pertain as one’s own +to any particular person. The ideas of which we had +occasion to speak before,—immaterial entities, not perceptible +by the senses, but thinkable by the intellect, +and which severally correspond to all sorts or species +of the various material things,—were once conceived +as things by philosophers, and they are still so conceived +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +to-day by the majority of men. It is not requisite +that one actually think them; it is sufficient that +they be in themselves thinkable. As a matter of fact, +they may or may not be thought, no differently therefore +from any of the material objects which are not +created by our senses, but must already exist in order +that our senses may perceive them. These ideas are +many, in a manner corresponding to the material objects; +and they are all different. They mirror, so to +speak, the multiplicity of material things in whose semblance +and likeness they were devised. There are +horses in nature, and there is the idea of the horse by +which we are able to recognise all the animals that belong +to that species. There are dogs, and there is the +dog which we rediscover in every one of them. And +there are flowers and the flower; and pinks, roses, and +lilies, as well as the pink, the rose, and the lily; and +likewise iron, copper, silver, gold, lime, water, and so +on, to infinity. It is impossible to set a limit to ideas, +because it is not possible ever to stop dividing, distinguishing, +subdividing that nature which unfolds itself +throughout space.</p> +<p>This boundless multitude of ideas, through which +our mind can rove, surely has no spatial extension. But +because of the necessity of conceiving any multitude as +existing in some kind of space, it was thought proper +to posit an ideal space in addition to the physical one. +In other words, metaphorical dimensions were added to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +dimensions properly so called. But whether spatially +or not, we strive to conceive ideas as many, each one +of them existing by itself, and susceptible of being +thought independently of the others. In reality however +we never succeed in thinking them except as bound +together and forming a system, in such a way that no +single one of them can be thought except by thinking +the others with it. Take man as an instance: each +one of us has intuitively the idea of man, but this idea +is not possessed like a word of which we may not even +know the meaning. In thinking the idea we must think +something which is its content. If we know what man +is, we must be able to attribute a content to the idea +of man. We may say, as the ancients did, that man +is the laughing animal, or the speaking animal, because +he is the only animal capable of expressing the emotions +of his soul by laughter or by the inflection of his +voice; because, in other words, he is the only animal +who is conscious of what goes on within him. Or perhaps +we might say that man is the reasoning animal, +and we think this idea when we have thought the idea +of <i>animal</i> and the idea of <i>reason</i>. But can the idea of +animal be thought by itself alone? It, as well as the +idea of reason, must have a content; that is, each must +be connected with other ideas, without which it would +be deprived of all consistency.</p> +<p>And so the mind that begins to think one single idea +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +is compelled, almost dragged, to pass on to another, +then to a third, and so on indefinitely. It finds itself in +the condition of the man who tried to grasp a single link +of a chain, just one, and found that he could not have it +except on condition of taking the whole chain. So it +is with ideas. We may not be capable of encompassing +all of them in one single thought; but whenever we try +to fix any one of them in our mind, it presents itself to +us as a knot in which many other ideas are interlaced, +twisted, and entangled. They form an infinite chain, +in which it is not possible to think the first link or the +last one, because the beginning is welded to the end, +and we turn and turn and never reach the last. Is not +this the nature of the ideas as we see them, as they constitute +the field from which we must harvest all our +possible thoughts?</p> +<p>Ideas are not, therefore, a true multiplicity, because +they are not things, either material or ideal, and because +they do not occupy any space whatsoever. +Our imagination may present them to us as so +many lights of an ideal sky; but our intelligence warns +us that they cannot be separated one from the other +and placed side by side. As I have already said: when +we think one, we think them all. Or in any event we +should, if we had mastered all that there is to be known. +So that to our thought ideas appear as constituting one +unique whole, a unity, that something which we call +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +science, truth, knowledge. They are not a multitude, +for the simple reason that in multiplicity they would be +unthinkable. Their connection with and participation +in an absolute unity come from the fact that they are +the object of thought, and are therefore submitted to its +activity, whereby they are ordered, correlated, organised, +unified. In order that we may say that one idea +contains another, or many others, we must analyse this +first idea and define it. This first idea must be distinguished +from the others, and they likewise among themselves. +It is not therefore sufficient to say that there +are these ideas, motionless, inert, lifeless, as they necessarily +would be if they existed <i>per se</i>, as objects of +mere possible contemplation. There must also be some +one to analyse them, define them, and distinguish them. +It is not enough to have the material of thought, we +need thought also to mould and fashion this material, +turn it effectively into thought stuff, reduce it to something +susceptible of being thought. Ideas as things +would in no way be related among themselves. +But they do have that relationship which is generated +by thought as it thinks them. Thought generates +this relationship not as a fixed one, as would be the +case if it were inherent in the things themselves; +but as a relationship which is being formed by degrees, +and which is continuously changing and developing. +No ideal, abiding science, existing only as +the object of a vague phantasy, can therefore +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +result from this relationship. It constitutes instead a +science which is ever re-formed and is never formed; +it gives to the ideas an ever renewed aspect: it matures +them, elaborates them, perfects them, by concentrating +on each one of them the constantly increasing light of +the system into which it closely binds them.</p> +<p>Ideas, then, as we really think them, are not a +minutely fractioned and scattered multiplicity. Nor +are they a mass of concurrent elements. They are +Thought as it becomes articulate, and gains distinctness +by these many Limbs, by these ideas, which exist, all +of them, in the process by which they are gradually +formed, developed, and complicated, and arrayed in an +order which is constantly being renewed and which is +never definitely perfected.</p> +<p>There are not then many ideas; there is one Idea, +which is Thought. Only in a metaphorical sense can +we consider them as things; and, properly speaking, +they are the human person itself as actualised in +thought, which is busily occupied in the construction of +knowledge. They are an indivisible unity, in which +each idea is found collaborating with every other one so +as to answer the questions which Thought constantly +propounds. They are the human person, not the persons; +for we have already concluded that only in an +abstract sense is it possible to speak of many persons; +concretely there is but one universal Person which +is not multiplicable.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></div> +<p>There are not, then, going back to our original division, +persons and things, material and spiritual. At +the most there is one person, Man, and there are the +material things which constitute this nature, as it occupies +space, and in which we too believe we have a +place, in as much as we consider ourselves beings of +nature. Nothing beyond this can be conceived: on one +side a sole immultiplicable reality, on the other a manifold +reality, indefinitely divisible.</p> +<p>Here we might perhaps stop considering the special +interest that called forth this inquiry. For no one +could possibly suppose for a moment that culture could +be placed in the midst of material things rather than +in the spiritual reality which is a person. However, +since the intimate nature of this spiritual reality which +we call culture is not yet clearly revealed, we must +continue our investigations, and give more attention to +this division which for a moment we thought might be +final. I mean the division of the world into persons and +things: the equipoise of spirit and matter.</p> +<p>Do we really <i>think</i> this matter as we say we do, and +which we believe we are justified in opposing to the +spirit, in as much as the spirit is unity or universality, +and matter, in its entirety, in every one of its parts, in +everything, is an indefinite multiplicity? Matter can +in truth be thought only on condition that it be possible +to think multiplicity, that pure multiplicity which is the +characteristic quality of matter.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></div> +<p>What then is the meaning of multiplicity? In absolute +terms we call multiple that which consists of elements +each one of which is quite independent of all the +others, and absolutely devoid of any and every relationship +with them. The materialist conceived the world +as an aggregate of atoms, separated one from the other +and having no reciprocal relevance of any sort whatsoever. +In the world of pure quantity, which is the +same as absolute multiplicity, mathematical science +claims the knowledge of units indifferent to their +nexus, and therefore susceptible of being united and +separated, of being summed up and divided, without +any alteration taking place within the individual unit +itself. Numerical units are therefore pre-eminently +irrelative.</p> +<p>But the concept itself of the multiplicity of irrelative +elements is an absurd one. In order that we may conceive +many unrelated elements we must, to start with, +be able to conceive a couple of such elements. Let us +take A and B, absolutely unrelated, and such that the +concept of one will contain nothing of the other’s, and +will therefore exclude it from itself. If A did not so +exclude B, something of B would be found in A, and +we could no longer speak of the two elements as irrelative. +Irrelativity means reciprocal exclusion, a capacity +by which each term is opposed to the other, and +prevents the other from having anything in common +with it. Without this reciprocal action whereby each +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +term turns to the other and excludes it from itself, +establishing itself as a negation of it, there would be +no irrelativity. But this action by which each term is +referred to the other so as to deny it, what is it but +a relationship? Every effort therefore tending to break +up reality into parts completely repugnant amongst +themselves, mutually excluding one another, and therefore +reciprocally indifferent, results in the very opposite +of what was intended, viz.: the relative in place +of the irrelative, unity instead of multiplicity.</p> +<p>Neither duality nor multiplicity is conceivable without +that unity whereby the two engender that whole in +which the two units are connected, even though they +mutually exclude one another: without that unity which +fuses and unifies every multiplicity determined in a +number, which correlates among themselves the units +which constitute the number. We could strip multiplicity +of all unity only by not thinking it. But then +in the gloom of what is not thought, multiplicity truly +enough would not be unity, but it would not even +be multiplicity, because it could not be anything at +all. Or, if we prefer, it would be absolutely unthinkable.</p> +<p>Thought then establishes relationships among the +units of the multiple, and thus constitutes them as the +units of the manifold, and as forming multiplicity. +It adds and divides, composes and decomposes, +and variously distributes, materialising and dematerialising, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +so to speak, the reality which it thinks. For it +materialises the reality when it conceives it as manifold: +but it can conceive it as such only by unifying it, +and therefore by dematerialising it and reabsorbing it +into its own spiritual substance.</p> +<p>Matter is a manifold reality, without unity. What it +is we already have seen: a material reality, and as such +divisible into parts, placed in the world in the midst of +a congeneric multitude. Now, since pure multiplicity +is not conceivable except on condition that we abstract +from that relationship to which the reciprocal exclusiveness +of manifold elements is reduced, it is evident +that matter and things are abstract entities. Thought +stops to consider them, and regards them as existent, +only because it withdraws the attention from that part +of itself which it contributes to the making of the object +represented. Thought therefore prescinds from +that unity which material things could not by themselves +contain, but from which it is impossible to prescind +absolutely unless we wish to be reduced to an absurd +conception.</p> +<p>Objective things then, the world of matter itself +which we are wont to oppose in equipoise to the person, +are in truth not separable from it. For matter has its +foundation in thought by which the personality is actualised. +Things are what we in our own thought +counterpose to ourselves who think them. Outside of +our thought they are absolutely nothing. Their material +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +hardness itself has to be lent to them by us, +for it ultimately is to be resolved into multiplicity, and +multiplicity implies spiritual unity.</p> +<p>This then is the world: an infinity of things all of +which have however their root in us. Not in “us” as +we are represented ordinarily in the midst of things; +not in the empirical and abstract “us” which feeds the +vanity of the empty-headed egoist, of him who has not +the faintest notion of what he really is, who can therefore +think of himself only as enclosed within the tight +husk of his own flesh and of his particular passions. +No! they are rooted in that true “us” by which we +think, and agree in one same thought, while thinking all +things, including ourselves as opposed to things. And +he who fails to reach this profound source, this root +from which all reality receives its vitalising sap, may +indeed get a blurred glimpse of a blind, inert, material +mechanism, but he cannot even fix and determine this +mechanism. He cannot upon further reflection stop at +the conviction that it is in truth, as it appears in semblance, +something real, for it reveals itself to him as so +absurd as to become unthinkable. The world then is +in us; it is our world, and it lives in the spirit. It lives +the very life of that person which we strive to realise, +sometimes satisfied with our work, but oftener unsatisfied +and restless. And there is the life of culture.</p> +<p>It is not possible to conceive knowledge otherwise +than as living knowledge, and as the extolment of our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +own personality. This is our conclusion. We shall, +later on, derive from it two corollaries that are very +important for teachers, in as much as they bear directly +on the problems of education.</p> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0002' id='Footnote_0002'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0002'><span class='label'>[2]</span></a> +<p><i>I Promessi Sposi</i> (“The Betrothed”).</p> +</div> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_THE_ATTRIBUTES_OF_CULTURE' id='CHAPTER_VI_THE_ATTRIBUTES_OF_CULTURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />THE ATTRIBUTES OF CULTURE</span></h2> +</div> +<p>From the concept of the spirituality of culture, we derive +all the fundamental propositions of pedagogy. But +in as much as this conception of culture coincides with +that of personality, or of the spirit, it is evident that all +the fundamental propositions of the philosophy of the +spirit are also derived from it. In fact, we separate +pedagogy from the philosophy of the spirit only because +of didactic convenience. To determine, then, the attributes +of culture, by which education becomes actual, +we have but to consider the nature of the spirit and +endeavour to define its attributes. This way we must +follow if we are ever to acquire a thorough comprehension +of the principles of the several theories of education, +principles which are but the laws immanent to the +life of education itself in its effective development.</p> +<p>The assertion that “culture is the human spirit” +means nothing unless we first define this spirit and +understand its attributes. We cannot possess a concept +which is not determined; and the determinations of a +concept are the constituent attributes of the reality +which we strive to conceive, and which is not thinkable +if deprived of any of these attributes. The following +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +example, appropriate even though trite, will make my +meaning clearer. Physical bodies cannot be conceived +without also conceiving gravity. Gravity is then an +attribute of the physical body, and as such it determines +the concept of it. In the same way, to conceive the +spirit is to embrace with thought the concepts which +are absolutely inseparable from the concept of the +spirit.</p> +<p>This inquiry into the nature of the attributes of +culture, though it constantly progresses towards a satisfactory +solution, yet seems at times to be losing +ground on account of the ever-increasing difficulties +that beset its advance. It is true, no doubt, that human +thought, driven by the irresistible desire to know itself, +has made some headway towards mastering the +concept of itself. Philosophy has indeed progressed, +and the modern world can proudly point to truths unsuspected +by the thinkers of antiquity. But the assiduous +and prolonged toil of thought engaged in this task +has at all moments disclosed new difficulties; it has +ever been busy sketching new concepts which subsequently +prove immature and in need of further elaboration, +and has been pushing its investigations to such +depths as to make it difficult to follow its lead without +sometimes going astray, without frequently stopping in +utter weariness at the roadside.</p> +<p>Men talk learnedly nowadays of the human spirit, +but with a doctrine which is often insufficient or, as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +we say, not up to date. They have stopped at one of +those wayside concepts where thought no doubt passed +and temporarily halted, but from which it moved on +towards a more distant goal. For while this long history +of the endeavours by which man struggles onward +towards the understanding of his own nature is the basis +on which modern philosophy builds its firm concept of +the spirit, yet for those who have not attained the vantage +ground of this modern philosophy, this history is +unfortunately a very intricate maze; it is the bewildering</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“selva selvaggia ed aspra e forte”<a name='FNanchor_0003' id='FNanchor_0003'></a><a href='#Footnote_0003' class='fnanchor'>[3]</a></p> +</div></div> +<p>from which it is difficult ever to issue. And therefore +it is much easier, as Dante once remarked, to teach +those who are completely ignorant than those who have +a smattering of philosophy. But to-day culture is so +intimately connected with philosophical speculation +that the greater part of educated men profess this or +that system without being aware of it. And when such +men do take up the study of philosophy <i>per se</i>, they +no longer possess the mental ingenuousness, the speculative +candour, which would enable them to grasp the +obvious, evident, incontrovertible truth of the most +profound philosophical proposition.</p> +<p>This inquiry then is difficult. It demands either a +long, methodic, laborious study of the history of philosophy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +conducted with critical vigour, or that unyielding +tenacity of the mind which is the surest sign of +sound spiritual character; that steadfast firmness by +which man, once in possession of a clearly irrefutable, +truly fundamental truth, rigorously excludes from his +soul all the allurements of prejudice, all convictions formerly +entertained, even though extremely plausible, if +they contradict his Truth. For he trusts that these +perplexities, these difficulties which he is not now in +condition to explain, will be removed in virtue of that +very thought to which he has confidently committed +himself.</p> +<p>This unflinching resolve is the courage of the philosopher, +who has never feared to brave common sense, +and single-handed to marshal against the multitude the +array of his seemingly absurd assertions, which +however, in the progress of their reciprocal integrations, +have subsequently contributed to redeem this very multitude +from error,—from that error which is intellectual +misery, social wretchedness, economic, political, and +moral destitution. Because of this inflexible firmness +the philosopher has never dreaded that boundless solitude, +that thin atmosphere to which he is uplifted by +thought, and where at first he has the sensation of fainting +away into the rarefied air.</p> +<p>We must then muster up courage and relinquish all +the ideas which we once accepted, even though they +still tempt us with superficial glitterings of truth, when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +once they have proved themselves to be in contradiction +with experience. For I too hold experience to be the +touchstone of all our thoughts, philosophy not excluded. +But I insist that we be careful lest we confound the +mockery of the first puppet that dupes our imagination +with genuine experience; that in as much as every man +speaks of experience in exclusive accordance with whatever +concept he has been able to form of it, we too determine +beforehand what our conception of it is. Now +I say that no concept of experience can be validly entertained +which does not take into account that truth +which presents itself to us as truly fundamental and +therefore to be used as an indispensable basis for all +subsequent conceptual constructions.</p> +<p>Such fundamental truth we have previously attained +when we established that “We” are not what we seem +to be in the dim empirical representation of our personality, +a thing among things. Our “Self” is the +deeper one by means of which we see all things in +whose midst our other self too is discernible. The reality +of this, our deeper “self” which cannot be conceived +as a thing, without which nothing can be conceived, in +the same way that the trunk, the branches, and the +boughs are not possible without the root from which +the tree issues, is a truth which we may never grasp, +but if we do, we shall forever be compelled to see in it +the source of all other possible truths, including the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +concept of experience. For once we have securely mastered +it, we will be convinced that it is impossible to +conceive whatever is considered and thought of as +constituting this world otherwise than as this world +which <i>we</i> see, which <i>we</i> touch, and which, in short, we +look upon as the contents of <i>our</i> experience: and that +it is also impossible to conceive this experience without +referring it to <i>us</i> who have it not as an object of possession +but as an activity which we exercise. So that +nothing, absolutely nothing, can be thought when the +relationship between things and experience, and again +the rapport between experience and ourselves is obtained, +without thinking the deep reality of this our +“self.” We may again close our eyes to this reality +or hold it in abeyance, but we can do so only after +we have effaced every notion of the two relationships +just mentioned, and when we again have immersed +ourselves in the mystery of things, in the gloom +of their apparent independent existence, of their ever +self-defeating multiplicity.</p> +<p>Against this reality of the profound “us” which is +the genuine spiritual reality, there are innumerable and +awe-inspiring difficulties. They are difficulties that so +violently oppress our minds and our hearts as to dismay +us, and almost force us to give up this concept of a +reality on which all other realities depend, and which +cannot but be one alone, and infinite, and really universal.<a name='FNanchor_0004' id='FNanchor_0004'></a><a href='#Footnote_0004' class='fnanchor'>[4]</a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +Alone, because in it all opposites must coincide: +the good and the evil, what is true and what is +false, life and death, peace and war, pleasure and pain, +yours and mine,—all things, in short, that we have been +obliged to sunder and distinguish in order to take our +bearings and meet the exigencies of life. Formidable +difficulties indeed! And they are the problems of philosophy. +It would be childish and senseless to dispose +of them by ignoring that concept from which they derive. +It is the philosopher’s task, it is the strict duty +of human thought to face the problems as they rise out +of the positions which it has captured in its onward +march. For to yield ground, to turn the back to a truth +which has been demonstrated to be indispensable, that +is impossible.</p> +<p>Those who wish to orient themselves in the world +to-day must, before all, cling to this: that the basis of +every thinkable reality is our spiritual reality, one, infinite, +universal,—the reality which unites us all in one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +sole spiritual life; the reality in which teacher and +pupils meet when by their reciprocal comprehensions +they constitute a real school.</p> +<p>What then is this one, infinite, universal reality? Is +this question truly unanswerable as it seems to be, as +it has often in the past been declared to be? For, it +has been argued, in order to give an answer, whether +here or elsewhere, we must somehow think the reality +to which the answer is referred. We must think it and +therefore distinguish it from all the others, and so presuppose +it as one existing among many and as forming +with them a multiplicity; and this is the very opposite +of that reality which we are striving to think. Or, in +other words, when we try to say what the subject is, +we must, somehow, set it as the object, and thus convert +it into what is the opposite of the subject. Or +again: the subject cannot think itself, because if it +did, it would split into the duality of itself as thinking +and itself as thought, and what is thinking is not what +is thought. But all these objections together with many +others of the same force that are ordinarily raised +against radical idealism have but one single defect; +which is such, however, as to make it hopeless for the +idealist ever to succeed in being understood by those +that resort to this kind of argument. These opponents, +strangely enough, miss the most elementary meaning +of the terms with which they claim to be familiar. +They fail to see that when the idealist says “subject,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +he cannot possibly mean by it one abstract term of the +relationship <i>subject-object</i>, which, because of this very +abstractness, is devoid of all consistency. The <i>ego</i> is +called “subject,” because it contains within itself an +object which is not diverse but identical with it. As +a pure subject it is already a relationship; it is self-affirmation +and therefore affirmation of an object, but +of an object, be it remembered, in which the subject +is not alienated from itself; by which, rather, it truly +returns to itself, embraces itself, and thus originatively +realises itself. In order to be <i>I</i>, I must know myself, +I must set my own self in front of myself. Only thus +I am I, a personality, and “subject,” the centre of my +world or of my thought. For if I should not objectify +myself to myself, if in the endeavour to free myself completely +from all objectivity, I were to retreat into the +first term,—a purely abstract one,—of this relationship +by which I posit myself, I should remain on the hither +side of this relationship, that is of that very reality in +which I am to realise myself. So then by this inner objectification +the subject does not at all depart from +itself. It rather enters into its own subjectivity, and +constitutes it. Surely man may, Narcissus-like, make +an idol of his own self: he may worship himself in a +fixed semblance already determined and crystallised. +But in so doing, he materialises himself, makes his person +into a thing, looks away from his true spiritual life, +misses self-consciousness, averts his thought from his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +own intimate being. This self-conversion from person +into thing takes place, not when we think of ourselves, +but rather when we fail to do so.</p> +<p>Philosophy then, as the thinking of the Spirit in its +absolute subjectivity, is the Spirit’s own life. For the +spirit lives by constituting itself as the ego, and it does +this by thinking itself, by acquiring consciousness of +itself. And while philosophising then, we cannot but +ask what is this one infinite universal reality which is +our <i>Self</i> and is called the spirit. We cannot dispense +with this inquiry into the attributes of the spirit, which +is at the same time the inquiry into the attributes of +culture.</p> +<p>The examination of the possibility of this investigation +has carried us, without our being aware of it, into +the very midst of the inquiry itself. For what we considered +as an elementary meaning of the word +“spirit,” the <i>ego</i>, which is not something in unrelated +immediacy, but which constitutes itself, posits itself, +realises itself in that it thinks itself and becomes self-consciousness,—this +is also the ultimate characteristic +which can be assigned to the spirit, or to man himself, +that is, to what in man is essentially human. If we +examine all the other differences that have been +assigned or could be found by which the spirit is +distinguishable from things, we shall find, after due +reflection, that they all cease to have a real meaning +as soon as we neglect the most profound characteristic +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +of spiritual reality, viz., that this reality is generated +by virtue of consciousness. Every form of reality +other than spiritual, not only is presented to thought +as not conditioned by consciousness, but seems to +afford no possibility of being thought (in relation to +consciousness) otherwise than as conditioning this very +consciousness. And when we say of the spiritual being +that it does not know what it is, that it is not acquainted +with itself, that it therefore remains concealed from +itself, we conceive then its spiritual being in a manner +analogous to that by which we conceive material or bodily +being,—externally visible, but internally unknown. +And we say that the individual fails to grasp his own +moral nature, because in fact we make this moral being +into something natural, similar to that which is attributed +to each one of the things that the spirit sets in +opposition to itself.</p> +<p>But the spirit has no nature of its own, no destiny to +direct its course, no predetermined inevitable lot. It +has no fixed qualities, no set mode of being, such as +constitute, from the birth to the death of an individual, +the species to which it belongs, to whose law it is compelled +by nature to submit, whose tyrannical limits and +bounds he can never trespass. The spirit, we have +seen, cannot but be conceived as free, and its freedom is +this privileged attitude to be what it wants to,—angel +or beast, as the ancients said; good or evil, true or false, +or, generally speaking, to be or not to be. To be or not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +to be man,—the spirit, that which he is, and which +he would not be if he did not <i>become</i>.</p> +<p>Man is not man by virtue of natural laws. He <i>becomes</i> +man. By man I do not mean an animal among +animals, held to no accounting of his deeds, who comes +into the world, grows, lives, and dies, unaware. Man +from the time he considers himself such, and in so +far as he considers himself such, <i>becomes</i> through his +own efforts. He makes himself what he is the first +time he opens his eyes on his inner consciousness and +says “<i>I</i>,”—the “I” which never would have been +uttered, had he not been aroused from the sluggish +torpor of natural beings (such as our phantasy represents +them) and had not started thinking under his +own power and through his own determination.</p> +<p>This freedom which is man’s prerogative offers +merely an external view, has a very hazy consistency, +and appears as something illusory, only because we do +not define it exclusively as autonomous becoming or +self-making. For in fact “becoming” is ordinarily +understood in a way which does not admit of being +considered as man’s prerogative. Does not every living +being <i>become</i>? The plant vegetates only because it +too has an inborn potency by which it is forced from +one stage of development to the next, from which in +this process it acquires the mode of being which is +peculiarly its own, which it did not have before, which +no other being could from the outside have conferred +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +upon it. And yet the plant is not a person but a thing: +it is not spirit, but a simple object, and as such it is +endowed with a definite nature and moved by a definite +law, which is the very antithesis of the freedom which +is peculiar to the spirit.</p> +<p>I might without further thought say that this conception +of becoming, referred to the plant as a plant, is +improper, that in reality the plant does not <i>become</i> +for the very reason that we deny it its freedom. +But I shall begin by stating that the becoming which +we attribute to the spiritual reality must be specified +and determined with greater accuracy, if we are to +consider it as the characteristic of this reality. When +so specified and determined, it will be found to coincide +with the conception of freedom. Becoming, then, can +be taken in two ways, which for brevity’s sake we shall +call the <i>autonomous</i> and the <i>heteronomous</i>. That is, +the being which becomes may have the law of its becoming +either in itself or outside of itself. Becoming +covers such cases as, for example, the filling of a vessel +into which a liquid is poured. But this becoming takes +place in a manner which has its law in the person that +fills the vessel; and the filling therefore may be considered +not so much a becoming as the effect of a becoming, +that is, as the result of that act which is being +performed by man. An heteronomous becoming is +to be traced back to the becoming of the cause which +produces it. The plant vegetates, and its vegetation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +is a development, a becoming. But could it grow without +the rays of the sun, the moisture of the soil? The +plant vegetates in consequence of its nature, that nature +which in accord with our ordinary way of considering +plant life it possessed from the time it was a green blade +just sprouting; nay, from the time it was a seed in the +ground, or rather when it was as yet in the plant +that produced the seed, or better still when it was +in its infinitely remote origin. It is evident therefore +that we cannot think of the law of becoming as residing, +so to speak, within a given plant. Whether we call +it nature or name it God, this law transcends the becoming +of the plant, its heteronomous becoming as we +called it, and is properly the becoming of something +else. But the becoming of man is autonomous. If he +<i>becomes</i> intelligent, that is, if he understands, he does +so through a principle which is intrinsically his own; +for no man can be made to comprehend what he himself +will not grasp. If he becomes good, his perfected +will can in no manner whatsoever be considered as determined +by an outside cause, without at the same time +being thereby deprived of all that is characteristic of +goodness.</p> +<p>But in stating that man’s becoming is autonomous +(or true) we have simply formulated a problem without +giving it a solution. What does this autonomous +becoming consist in? Simply to notice its existence +would never help us to understand it. Every +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +fact is intelligible only as an effect of a cause. And +a cause is a cause on condition that it be a thing +other than the effect. In order to understand the autonomous +becoming or freedom of the spirit, we must +not consider it as a fact, that is, as something done. A +thing made presupposes the making; and from the deed +we must rise to the doing, but to a doing which shall +not itself be a thing done, a fact, and similar therefore +to the doings which we witness as mere spectators. The +doing in which our autonomous becoming is detected is +that one of which <i>We</i> are not spectators but actors, we +the spectators of every other doing, we as the thinking +Activity.</p> +<p>This then is the becoming which rigorously may be +called autonomous: the one which we know not as spectators +but as actors, which comes forth as that reality +which is produced by the act of knowing, and therefore +is not known because it exists, but exists because it is +known,—our existence. It is the existence of us who +know, for example, that a==b, and who are such only +in so far as we know and are conscious of knowing that +a==b,—of us who suffer or rejoice, and who cannot +be in this or that state except by knowing it, so that +no cause could reduce us to such a state, unless we were +conscious of such a cause and felt its valid application +to us,—of us, above all, who are not ourselves unless we +apperceive ourselves, by reflecting upon ourselves, and +thus acquiring existence as a personality, as human self-consciousness, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +as thought. Thought in opposition to +nature, with which it is constantly contrasted, is nothing +but this self-reflection which establishes the personality, +and that reality which, absolutely, is not, but +becomes. Every reality other than thought <i>becomes</i> +relatively; and its becoming is intelligible simply as the +effect of another becoming. Only thought, only the +Spirit, is absolute becoming, and its becoming is its +liberty.</p> +<p>But whether it be called “freedom” or “becoming,” +the important thing is to avoid the mistake, which was +general in the past and is still very common to-day, of +separating this attribute of the spirit from the spirit +itself, thus failing to understand exactly what is properly +called the attribute. For example, we say that the +triangle is a three-sided plane figure, and we seem to be +able to distinguish and therefore to separate logically +the idea of <i>triangle</i> from the idea of <i>three-sided plane +figure</i>. But a little reflection will make it evident +that in thinking the idea of triangle, we think nothing +unless we at least think the plane trilateral figure. So +that we do not really have two ideas, which however +closely connected may yet be separated to be conjoined +again: what we have is one single idea. And +such is the agreement of the becoming and of the +spirit, and in general of every attribute and of the +reality to which it belongs. When we begin inquiring +whether the spirit is free or not, we set out on an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +erroneous track which will take us into a blind alley +with no possibility of exit. All the unsurmountable +difficulties encountered at all times by the advocates +of the doctrine of freedom arise in fact from the error +of first thinking the spirit (or whatsoever that reality +may be for which freedom is claimed) and of subsequently +propounding the question of its properties. +For the spirit is <i>free</i> in as much as it is nothing else +than <i>freedom</i>; and the spirit “becomes” in as much as +it is nothing else than “becoming,” and this becoming +cannot therefore be considered as the husk enveloping +the kernel—the spirit. There is no kernel to the spirit: +it is in no manner comparable to a moving body in +which the body itself could be distinguished from motion, +and would admit therefore of being thought as in +a state of rest even though rest is considered impossible. +The spirit, continuing our simile and correcting it, is +motion without a mass,—a motion surely that cannot +be represented to our imagination, for the very reason +that motion is peculiar to the body and does not belong +to the spirit; and imagination is the thought of bodies, +and not of the thought which thinks the bodies. This +idea of motion without a mass, baffling as it is to our +imagination, is perhaps the most effective warning that +can be given to those who wish to fix in their minds the +exact concept of the nature of the spirit. In order to +avoid new terminology not sufficiently intelligible and +therefore unpractical, we may resort to material expressions, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +and speak of the nature of the spirit as of a +“thing” which becomes, and use such words as “kernel” +and “husk.” But we must never lose sight of +the fact that this manner of speaking, which is appropriate +for things, is not suitable for the spirit, and can +be resorted to only with the understanding that the +spirit is not a thing, and that therefore its whole being +consists solely in its becoming.</p> +<p>We are now in a position to understand the meaning +of the spirituality of culture, that is, of the reduction +of culture to the human personality obtained in the +preceding chapter, as well as the pedagogical interest +of this reduction. Culture, as the entire content of +education, because it must be sought within the personality, +and because it resolves itself into the life of +the spirit, is not a thing, and does not admit of being +conceived statically either in books or in the mind: +not before nor after it is apprehended. It does not +exist in libraries or in schools, or in us before we go +to school, or while we still remain within its walls, or +after our nourished minds have taken leave of it. It +is in no place, at no time, in no person. Culture <i>is not</i>, +because if it <i>were</i>, it would have to be some “thing,” +whereas by definition it is the negation of that which +is capable of being anything whatever. It is culture +in so far as it <i>becomes</i>. Culture exists as it develops, +and in no other manner. It is always in the course of +being formed, it <i>lives</i>.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></div> +<p>But to understand this <i>life</i>, and in order to grasp +more firmly this “idea” of culture which is a spiritual +banner to rally educators, I must again bring up a +certain distinction. Culture, I said, lives (that is, it +is culture) when it is endowed with a life that is entirely +different from the life which biologically animates +all living beings, ourselves included. The +difference can be stated as follows: in the case of every +other life, we can assert its existence in so far as we +have knowledge of it either directly or indirectly. It +is always, however, different from us and from our +knowing it; so much so that the possibilities of going +astray are very great. But for the life of culture, which +is the life of our spirit, we have no need of being +informed by the experience of others, or even of ourselves. +We live it. It is our very thought,—this +thought which may indeed err in respect to what is +different from itself, as not tallying with it; but which +cannot possibly deceive us in regard to itself, since +it is unable not to be itself. The life of culture is +not a spectacle but an activity. Nor is it activity +for some and a spectacle for others. Culture is never +a show for any one. No person can ever know for +his fellow being. What, for me, Aristotle knows, is +what I know of Aristotle.</p> +<p>Culture,—this untiring activity which never for a +moment turns into a spectacle for any of us, which +ever therefore demands effort and toil,—could not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +avoid becoming a show and being made up into a +“thing,” could not escape the danger of dying as culture +by degenerating into something anti-spiritual, fruitless, +and material, if, while yet being activity, it were +not at the same time in some way a spectacle to itself. +This point demands careful <ins title='Added period'>consideration.</ins> It is not +sufficient to say that culture, that thought is life, +and not the thought of life. We will not attain the +conception of culture by merely contrasting, as we +have done, our life, the life we lead as actors, with +the life of others which we behold as spectators, or by +opposing the life of ourselves as thinking beings to the +life we possess as organic beings, to the life of our +senses by which we are on a par with the other animals. +The life of thought, in its peculiar inwardness and subjectivity, +is still conceived to-day by powerful thinkers, +by analogy with life in a biological sense, as irreflective +and instinctive, or, as they say, as simple intuition. +But thought which though living is irreflective becomes +indeed an active performance, a drama without spectators, +but it also remains as a drama represented for +spectators who are absent, and who should be informed +of those things which direct experience had not placed +before their eyes. And it is difficult to surmise who +would impart to them this information if the house +were empty.</p> +<p>In other words, I mean to say that this would-be +intuitive life of thought, fading away into the subconscious, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +melting into the naturality of the unconscious, +is, like every form of natural life effectually a stranger +to thought (that is <i>conceived</i> as a stranger to thought), +an object and nothing more than an object of thought, +and therefore incapable of ever being a subject, of +ever having value as subject, that is, as thought itself. +For that reason we can never effectively think it; for +never can we truly think any thing which is natural +and thought of as natural. Who can say what the life +of the plant is? To posit nature by thought is to +posit something irreducible to thought and therefore +unthinkable. This perhaps would not necessarily be +a serious drawback for the life itself of thought if we +lived it. For would it not be sufficient to live it? +Why insist on <i>thinking</i> its life? Why demand a head, +so to speak, as a hood for the head? But there is +a drawback, and a serious one, as a result of the +fact that this life itself of thought does not now, never +will in the future, come before us as that irreflective +life which it is claimed to be: it comes to us as a philosophy +which recommends it and advocates it as the +only possible life of thought. In fact, in order to be +able to speak of this life, we must first think it. But +how could we think it, if the only possible life was that +one which we intend to think, and not the one with +which we think this irreflective life?</p> +<p>So then, in order that this life of ours (truly, intimately, +spiritually ours) may not be confounded with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +the life of natural things, with that pseudo-life which +is only an apparent becoming, an effect of another +becoming by which it is transcended, it is not sufficient, +as I started out to say, to call it a drama and not a +spectacle. As a result of more careful determinations +we may now say that it is not another man’s spectacle, +but our drama which is at the same time our spectacle +too. In it the actors play to themselves. It is self-conscious +activity. It is activity perpetually watching +over itself.</p> +<p>And again: Just as the becoming of the spirit would +cease to be that one sole becoming which it actually is, +were we to distinguish the spirit from its becoming, so +the consciousness of spiritual activity would also become +unintelligible if we were to distinguish, as philosophers +insistently do, between activity and awareness, +between the performance and the show. The +distinction here too arises from referring to the spirit, +the mode of thinking which is suited for the thinking +of things. In the sphere of things, doing is one thing, +watching the thing as it is done is another. But to +us the spirit’s becoming has shown itself to be the +very negation of this distinction between actor and +spectacle, so that in saying that the actor is his own +spectator we cannot introduce, within the unity in +which we had taken refuge, the dualism which is excluded +from the concept of the spirit. I have spoken +of “motion without mass,” turning a deaf ear to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +claims of our imagination. Now I shall add something +that clashes even more violently against the +laws which govern our image-making; and I shall do +so in order to make it very clear that the spirit does +not live in the world of things which is swept over +by our imagination. I shall now call the spirit a gazing +motion. The spirit’s acting—its eternal process, its +immanent becoming—is not an escort to thinking, but +the very thinking itself, which is neither cause nor +effect: neither the antecedent nor the consequent, nor +yet the concomitant of the action by which the spirit +goes on constantly impersonating itself. <i>It is this +very acting.</i></p> +<p>In accordance with the popular point of view which, +as I have said, is shared by great philosophers, a distinction +is made between the spirit considered as will +and the spirit regarded as intellect, or as consciousness, +or as thought, or whatever term may be used +to indicate the becoming aware of this spiritual activity. +But if the spirit in that it wills did not also think, +we should be thrust back to the position which we have +shown above to be untenable, and be forced to admit +that the irreflective life of the spirit cannot be fused +with the reflective life, and is therefore unaccountable +and unthinkable. The will which <i>qua</i> will is not also +thought, is in respect to thought which knows it a +simple object, a spectacle and not a drama. It is +nature and not spirit. And a thought which <i>qua</i> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +thought is not will, is, in respect to the will which +integrates it, a spectator without a spectacle. If there +is to be a drama, and a drama which is the spirit, it is +inevitable that the will be the thought, and that the +thought be the will, over and beyond that distinction +which serves if anything to characterise the opposition +between nature and spirit.</p> +<p>Should we, returning to our comparison, demand of +that motion which is spirit a moving mass; should we, +grounded on the naïve and primitive conception which +identifies knowing with the seeing of external things, +demand within the sphere of the spiritual activity +itself a doing in which knowing should find its object +all ready made, we should continue to wander helplessly +in the maze of things, and to grope in the mystery of the +multiplicity of things, which are many and yet are +not many. We would be turning our eyes away from +the lode star which is the supreme concept of the +spirit, and thereby show ourselves incapable of rising +to that point of view which is the peculiar one of +culture.</p> +<p>Culture, as the spirit’s life, which is a drama and +self-awareness, is not simply effort and uneasy toil, +it is not a tormenting restlessness which we may sometimes +shake off, from which we would gladly be rescued. +Nor is it a feverish excitement that consumes +our life-blood and tosses us restlessly on a sick-bed. +The spirit’s life is not vexation but liberation from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +care. For the greatest of sorrows, Leopardi tells us, +is <i>ennui</i>, the inert tedious weariness of those who find +nothing to do, and pine away in a wasting repose +which is the very antithesis of the life of the spirit. +The negation of this life,—the obstacles, the hindrances, +the halts it encounters,—that is the source of +woe. But life with its energy is joy; it is joy because +it is activity, our activity. Another man’s activity as +the negation of our own is troublesome and exasperating. +The music which we enjoy (and we are able +to enjoy it by being active) is our enjoyment. But +the musical entertainment in which we have no part +disturbs us, interferes with our work, irritates us. +Our neighbour’s joys in which for some reason we are +unable to participate awaken envy in us, gall us, bring +some manner of displeasure to our hearts.</p> +<p>Culture, then, as life of the spirit, is effort, and work, +but never a drudgery. It would be toilsome labour if +the spirit had lived its life before we began to work; +if this life had blossomed forth, and had realised itself +without our efforts. But our effort, our work is this +very life of the spirit, its nature, in which culture +develops. Work is not a burdensome yoke on our +will and on our personality. It is liberation, freedom, +the act by which liberty asserts its being. Work may +sometimes appear irksome because the freedom of its +movement is checked by certain resistances which have +to be overcome and removed. But in such cases it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +is not work which vexes us, but rather its opposite, +sloth, against which it must combat. It follows then +that the more intensely we occupy ourselves, the less +heavily we are burdened by pain. For as our efforts +redouble and the resistance is proportionately reduced, +the spirit, which perishes in enthralment, is enabled +to live a richer life.</p> +<p>Culture then is the extolment of our being, the +formation of our spirit, or better, its liberation and +its beatification. As the realisation of the spirit’s own +nature, it is opposed to all suffering and is the source +of blissfulness. But it must not be regarded as the +fated, inevitable working out of an instinctive principle, +or a natural law. The building of a bird’s nest, +which is the necessary antecedent to generation and +reproduction, cannot be looked upon as work; and it +is fruitless to try to guess whether this act is a cause +of pleasure to the bird or a source of suffering. Instinct +leads the individual to self-sacrifice on behalf +of the species. But not even this fact, vouched for +solely by external inferences, authorises us to conclude +that the fulfilment of an instinctive impulse is +actually accompanied by pain. So that it seems wiser +to keep off this slippery surface of conjecture. It will +be sufficient to note here that an action prompted by +instinct, conceived as merely instinctive and thoroughly +unconscious of the end to which it is subservient, is +in no way to be compared with man’s work. Human +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +occupation is personality, will, consciousness. The +animal does not work. But culture we have said is +work. For it is liberty, self-formation, with no +existence previous to the process; whereas the laws +which govern the development of natural being pre-exist +before the development itself. Culture exists +only in so far as it is formed, and it is constituted +solely by being developed. And what is more, as we +shall see in the next chapter, culture does not even +count on a pre-existing external matter ready to receive +its informing imprint.</p> +<p>To conclude then: culture <i>is</i> (in its becoming) only +to the extent that the cultivated man feels its worth, +desires it, and realises it. It is a value, but not in the +sense that man first appreciates it and subsequently +looks for it and strives to actualise it. The value +which man assigns to culture is that which he gradually +goes on ascribing to <i>his</i> own culture, and whose development +coincides with the development of his own personality. +What we ought to want is exactly what we do +want; but we want just that which we ought to. The +ideal, not the abstract, inadequate, and false one, but +the true ideal of our personality, is that one toward +whose realisation we are actually working. And the +ideal of our culture is that self-same one towards which +our busy person remains turned in the actuality of its +becoming. But work implies a programme, and spirit +means “ideal;” and when we speak of culture we signify +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +thereby the value of culture, of a culture which +as yet is not but which must be. Life is the life of +the spirit as a duty,—as a life which we live, feeling +all along that it is our duty to live it, and that it depends +on us whether it exists or not. And culture could not +re-enter as it does in the life of the spirit, if it too were +not a duty, that is, if it were not this culture to whose +development our personality is pledged. So interpreted, +culture, far from being a destiny to which we are bound, +is the progressive triumph of our very freedom. On +these terms only, culture is a growth, and the spirit a +becoming.</p> +<p>This attribute, which is an ethical one, is not added +to the attribute of Becoming any more than “becoming” +was superadded to “freedom.” For just as Becoming +develops the concept of freedom, so does the +ethical develop and accomplish the concept of +becoming. Freedom is never true liberty unless it is +a process, an absolute Becoming; but Becoming can +only be absolute by being moral. And it is therefore +impossible to speak of learning which is not ethical.</p> +<p>It has often been repeated for thousands and thousands +of years that knowledge is neither good nor bad; +that it is either true or false. But is the True a different +category from the Good? Are they not rather one +sole identical category? Truth could be maintained +in a place quite distinct from the grounds of morality, +only so long as the world clung to that conception of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +truth which was the agreement of the subject with +an assumed external object. But now by truth we +understand the value of thought in which the subject +becomes an object to itself and thus realises itself; +and in clarifying this new conception of truth, we +discover that morality is identical with it. For knowing +is acting, but an acting which being untrammelled +conforms with an ideal—Duty. And in this manner +we explain to ourselves why the mysterious and inspired +voice of conscience has at all times admonished +man to worship Truth with that same intense earnestness, +with those same scruples, with that identical +personal energy, which we devote to every phase of our +moral mission. The cult of truth is in fact what we +otherwise call and understand to be morality, namely, +the formation of our personality, which can be ours +only by belonging to all men, and which, whether or +not ours, is not immediate, not a given personality, +but rather one which is intent on self-realisation, on +that sacred and eternal task which is the Good.</p> +<p>If we now feel culture to be free, to be a process, +and an ethical one at that, we have succeeded in grasping +its spirituality, and we are in a position therefore +to proceed with security on that way which opens +before the educator’s eyes, as he intently goes about +his work of creation, or, if you so wish to call it, his +task as a promoter of culture.</p> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0003' id='Footnote_0003'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0003'><span class='label'>[3]</span></a> +<p>“Forest savage, rough, and stern.”—Dante, <i>Inferno</i>, i. 5.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0004' id='Footnote_0004'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0004'><span class='label'>[4]</span></a> +<p>Many speak of the universal and say that they conceive this +universal as concrete and immanent. Few, however, effectively +fix their thought on that universality which alone is such, which +alone can be such, which has nothing outside of itself, not even +the particular, and which is ideal on condition that the idea to +which it belongs be reality itself in all its determinateness. And +so in speaking of “universal” and of “individual” we must remember +that the latter cannot be anything without being the +former, since indeed the universal is not a merely abstract idea, +but reality, the reality of thought. Therefore I have here used +the expression “really universal”.—G. G.</p> +</div> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_THE_BIAS_OF_REALISM' id='CHAPTER_VII_THE_BIAS_OF_REALISM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />THE BIAS OF REALISM</span></h2> +</div> +<p>Educators of the modern school are bent on transforming +its methods and institutions on the basis of the +conception set forth in the previous chapters. The +subtle discussions required to make this conception +clear must have convinced the reader that this work of +educational reform could only succeed if preceded by +such philosophical doctrines as have recently been +evolved in Italy and are now becoming the accepted +faith of the newer generation. To this new belief the +school must be converted, if it is ever going to conquer +that freedom which has been its constant aspiration, +and which seems to be an indispensable condition for +its further growth.</p> +<p>The faith of the modern man cleaves to a life conceived +and directed idealistically. He believes that life—true +life—is man’s free creation; that in it, therefore, +human aims should gain an ever fuller realisation; +and that these aims, these ends will not be attained +unless thought, which is man’s specific force, extends +its sway so as to embrace nature, penetrate it, and +resolve it into its own substance. He believes that +nature, thus turned into an instrument of thought, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +yields readily to its will, not being <i>per se</i> opposed or +repugnant to the life and activity of the spirit, but +rather homogeneous and identical with it. He believes, +moreover, that this sway can only be obtained +by amplifying, strengthening, and constantly potentiating +our human energy, which means thinking, +knowing, self-realising; and that self-realisation is not +possible unless it is free, unless it be rescued from the +prejudice of dependence upon external principles, and +unless it affirms itself as absolute infinite activity. +This is the <i>Kingdom of Man</i> prophesied at the dawn +of modern thought. This is the work which science, +art, religion, not less than political revolutions and +social reforms, have gradually been accomplishing and +perfecting in the last three hundred years. This new +spiritual orientation has to a certain extent influenced +teaching; and though without a general programme +of substantial reforms, the ideal of education has been +transformed along idealistic lines. This transformation, +strange to say, has been effected in part by means +of institutions which have arisen as a result of the recent +development of industrial life and of the corresponding +complexity in economic and social relations. +These schools, because of their names, seem to be quite +removed from the idealistic tendencies of modern civilisations. +Whether they be called technical, business, +or industrial schools, they seem to be and are in fact +the result of a realistic conception of life. But such +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +realism, we must remember, is far from being opposed +to our idealism, and should not be compared with the +realism which we have objected to. We should rather +consider it as the most effective demonstration of the +idealistic trend of our times. For these institutions +are founded on the theory that knowledge increases +man’s power in the world by enabling him to overcome +the obstacles by which nature, if ignored and unknown, +would hinder the free development of civilisation in +general, and of those individuals in particular in whom +and through whom civilisation becomes actual.</p> +<p>Realism, on the other hand, as the opposite of the +idealistic conception of life and culture, was shown to +be based on a conception of reality which exists totally +outside of human thought and of the civilisation which +is produced by it,—of a reality existing <i>per se</i> in such +a way that no end peculiar to man, no free human life, +can be conceived which will have the power of bending +this reality toward itself, of resolving it within itself. +This realistic point of view is not different from the outlook +of the primitive man who, awed by the might of +nature, kneels submissively before its invisible power, +which, he thinks, controls these forces. It is the accepted +belief of the naïve and dreamy consciousness of +child-like humanity; but it is none the less a conception +which is opposed to the course constantly followed by +civilisation. Its dangers must be made very clear +and its menace removed from the path of its triumphant +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +enemy. To overcome this realistic point of view +in the field of education is the duty of teachers, who +must be in a position to recognise it, and to track it +into whatever hiding places it may lurk. I intend +therefore in this chapter to point out some of the most +notable realistic prejudices which, though still tolerated +by contemporary thought, ought to be definitely +stamped out, if we are really convinced of the spiritual +character of culture and of its essential attributes.</p> +<p>I shall here bring up again a consideration which I +touched upon in the first chapter,—an idea which is +the fundamental prejudice of the realistic theory of +education in its antagonism to the profound exigencies +of the free spiritual life which education should promote. +I mean the idea of Science (with a capital S),—that +Science which is imagined as towering over and +above the men who toil and suffer, think and struggle +in quest of its light and of its force; that Science which +would be so beautiful, and majestic, and impressive, +were it not for the fact that it does not exist. This +Science is looked upon as infallible, without crises, +without reverses, without vicissitudes of doctrines, +without parties, and without nationality,—without +history in short; for history is full of these baser occurrences; +and men, without a single exception, even +the greatest of scientists, even the lofty geniuses that +have transformed or systematised knowledge, are all +in some measure prone to err. The exceptions which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +are adduced to contradict this statement are so few, +so limited by restrictions and by hair-splitting distinctions, +that we can hardly allow them; especially when +we consider that even granting the infallible oracular +character of some men’s utterances, the fact remains +that his listeners must undergo the process of understanding +him, and in so doing they may go astray. So +that from superhuman unfailing verities, we slip back +instantly to human fallibility. Infallible Science, then, +is not known, cannot be known to mankind; for the +simple reason that we who constitute it are subject to +error, and being ourselves prone to fail, we expose +science to the same danger. If it does exist somewhere +it surely is not in this world in which we live, +thinking, knowing, and—creating science.</p> +<p>This mythical science, unsullied and incorruptible, +segregated from all possible intercourse with thought, +ever soaring in the pure air of divine essences, is yet the +mother of a numerous offspring, the parent of countless +daughters as virginal and as infallible as the +mother herself. These are the particular sciences, +bearing various names, but all of them equally worthy +of the distinction of the capital S in the eyes of their +realistic worshippers.</p> +<p>This mythology is taught in the schools which too +often are called, and without any figurative meaning, +the shrines of learning. Conceived as divinely +superlative, as something which, though revealed historically +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +by the successive discoveries of privileged +minds, is none the less sharply distinct from the history +of humanity, science descends into the school. +There it manifests itself as human knowledge, and is +communicated to the youthful minds eager to ascend +to the heaven of truth. And so the school comes to be +looked upon as a kind of temple, as the Church where +the inspired Word of the Sacred Books is read and +explained by those who have been chosen by the +Divinity to act as its interpreters, as preachers of the +Faith. With this religious conception of the school +we connect the “mission” of the educator, whose task, +when not ridiculed and lampooned by the same scoffers +who at all times have jeered at the teachers of divinity, +has been surrounded by a glamour of religiosity. +We see them encircled by that halo of distant respect +which we naturally connect with those who, acting as +intermediaries between us and the deity, are themselves +transfigured and deified.</p> +<p>The school then is looked upon as a temple in which +the pupil receives his spiritual bread. But not so the +home which the boy must leave, that he may satisfy +his mysteriously innate craving for knowledge. Not +so the street, where the small boys gather, drawn together +by the irresistible need of pastime, by the +sweet desire of frolicsome companionship, by the unconscious +yearning after spiritual communion with the +world which there makes its way into the child’s mind +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +far off from the classroom, and lavishes upon it its own +light, its portion of thought, its share of new experiences, +and the joy of an ever renewed outpouring of +sympathetic spirituality.</p> +<p>The custodian of this temple, the schoolmaster, is +regarded as a divine, as the minister who imparts the +consecrated elements of Science, who leads the pupil +to the “panem angelorum,” as Dante calls it. But +our fathers and mothers are not so regarded,—they +who were the first custodians of a greater temple, the +world, to whose marvels they gradually initiated our +growing minds; they who by the use of speech taught +us, without being aware of it, infinitely more than the +best of schools will ever be able to teach us in the +future; not our elder brothers to whom we always +looked up in emulation, and from whom, even more +than from our parents, we learned the thoughts and +the words suited to our needs; not our grandmother, +who long before our eager phantasy might +roam through the printed pages, gently led us into +Fairyland, and there, in the enchantments of a magic +world, disclosed to us that humanity which books and +teachers later in life were to re-evoke for us. No! +There are no altars to Science except in the Schoolhouse, +and none but educators may minister to its cult.</p> +<p>This mythological lore is not merely a harmless +form of imagery, against which it might be pedantic +to rebel. It is a real superstition, which has its roots +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +deep down in the personality of the educator; it +adheres parasitically to culture, climbs over its sturdy +trunk, drains its sap, weakens it, deadens it. For +when we have stripped this conception of education +of its mythological exterior, there yet remains a clearly +religious and realistic thought, which is professed with +firm adhesion of the mind and complete devotion of the +soul, as the inviolable norm of the whole activity +which pertains to the object of this norm itself. Let +us, for example, consider what is presupposed by the +doctrine of methods, the so-called methodology, which is +an important part of didactics, and a very considerable +section in the whole field of pedagogics. The doctrine +of methods comprises a general treatment, which corresponds +to what we called the Mother-Science, and +a particular treatment for the individual sciences. +There is methodology of learning in general, and there +are methodics for the several disciplines, or at least +for each group of disciplines, into which learning is +divided and subdivided in accordance with the logical +processes adopted in any particular case, or in accordance +with the objects of these disciplines. To each +method of knowing, considered in itself, corresponds a +teaching method, so that there is one general didactic +method, and many special ones by which the general +method is to be applied.</p> +<p>But what is the method of a science if not the logical +scheme or the form of a certain scientific knowledge? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +And, on the other hand, what can be known as to the +form of anything, unless we have the thing itself before +us in its form and with its contents? In order +to define the form of a science, and say, for example, +that it is deductive in mathematics and inductive in +chemistry, we must first presuppose the existence of +these sciences themselves. But in them form is never +anything indifferent to content; it is the form of that +content. This is made clear if we consider the methodologies +which logicians presume to define in the abstract, +and with no regard to the determined content +of the corresponding sciences. We notice that they are +able to present a successful exposition and formulation +only by fixing the meaning of each formula by the use +of examples, thereby passing from the abstract to the +concrete, and showing the method to be within the +concrete knowing out of which logic presumes to extract +it. In the same way every philosophical system +has its method; but whenever criticism has endeavoured +to fix abstractly the method of a system, in order then +to show how it has been applied in the construction +of the system itself, it has been forced in every case +to admit that the method already contained the system +within itself, that it was the system itself. So that +it would have no value whatsoever, it could not even +be grasped by thought in its particular determinateness, +if it were not presented as the natural form of +that precise thought.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span></div> +<p>No harmful results would follow, if this assumption +merely implied the accepting of science and methods +as existing by themselves previous to the learning of +science by means of its respective method; if it resulted +merely in the failure to recognise the impossibility +of conceiving science and methods as existing +outside of the human mind where they actually do live +and exist. If this were all, we should merely take +notice of it as a speculative error which affected only +the solution of the particular problem in which it appeared. +But in the life of thought, where everything +is united and connected in an organic system, every +point of which is in relation to every other point, there +is no error limited to a single problem; its effects are +felt in the whole system, and they react on thought as +a whole. And since thought is activity itself,—life’s +drama, as we called it,—every error infects the entire +life. Let us then consider the consequences of this +realistic conception of methodology.</p> +<p>Science, we are told, in its abstract objectivity is +one, immutable, unaltered: it is removed from the +danger of error and of human fallibility, and protected +from the alternate succession of ignorance and discovery; +incapable therefore of progressing and of developing +because it was complete from the very beginning, +and is eternally perfect. But such a Science is +quite different from the one which grows in the life +of culture, and is the free formation of the human personality. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +This one is ever changing, always admitting +all possible transformations, different from individual +to individual, and different also in the mind of the +same person. It lives only on condition that it never +fix itself, that it never crystallise, that it place no +limits to its development; it continues to be in virtue +of its power to grow, to modify itself, to integrate itself +and incessantly to develop. Science as culture, as personality, +is free, perennially becoming, stirred by +ethical impulses, multiple, varied. If we fix the method, +it indicates that we are dealing with science realistically +considered as pre-existing, and we can therefore have +only one sole, definite, immutable method,—one for +everybody, and devoid of freedom, not susceptible of +development, refractory to all moral evaluation. +We should have then a rigid law of the spirit, as compelling +as the laws of nature. But by obedience to +such a principle, the spirit could not affirm itself: such +compliance is surrender and abdication, not the realisation +of some good. The most that could be said of +it is that perhaps it prevents or annuls an evil which +alienates us from a primitive good which is not ours, +and not being ours cannot truly be good.</p> +<p>A fixed method forces the spirit into this hopeless +dilemma: (1) Either refuse to submit, and thus save +life at the cost of all that makes life worth living—<i>propter +vitam vivendi perdere causas</i> (which evidently +would be the case, if we consider that the spirit lives +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +solely on condition that it recognise no pre-established +laws, that it be free from the bondage of nature, that it +create its own law, its own world, freely; and that, on +the other hand, the <i>cause</i> of living, what constitutes +the worth of life, is that enhancement of the spirit’s +reality which realises itself in science, and therefore +in the method of science).</p> +<p>(2) Or else submit, and kill life in the effort to save +its worth—<i>propter causas vivendi perdere vitam</i> +(which is absurd; for what is the worth of life if there +is no life?).</p> +<p>However that may be, the type of education that +presupposes a certain ideal of knowledge previously +constituted and ready to be imparted by the teacher +to the pupil in conformity with some suitable method, +must follow a method, a unique one—the method of +science, and therefore of the teacher, and therefore also +of the pupil, whether the latter is capable of it or not. +For it is tacitly assumed that science==method; science==teacher; +science==pupil. On the strength +of these equations the common term “science” should +suffice to identify the first method, which is the one of +science in itself, with the last, which is the method of +science to be mastered by the pupil. But the above +series of equations is false, because, admitting the first, +the one namely on the basis of which we are now discussing, +neither the second nor the third is possible +without passing from realistic to idealistic science,—two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +very different things, as I have shown. Even if +we leave the teacher out of consideration, we shall +have to remember that the pupil learns a science by +making it his own,—a fallible science, which he may +understand up to a certain point and no further. It +will be one of the many sciences which have no one +given method, but many of them, and the pupil can only +avoid appropriating, individualising, subjectivising science +by following that way which is very broad, very +easy, and, alas, only too well beaten,—the royal road +of non-learning, which is diligently upkept by all the +schools which have to teach precise, well-defined science, +and have a pre-established method by which to +teach it.</p> +<p>But, it might be objected, if science, realistically +conceived, is a fictitious entity in no way corresponding +to reality, how is it possible to have a method +which by its uniqueness and definiteness effectively +corresponds to the unalterable unity of this non-existent +science? And what teacher would ever arbitrarily +impose on his students such an abstract and mechanical +method? This is true enough; but man learns to +compromise with all deities, Science included. This +divinity, in order somehow to exist, must assume a few +human traits without however renouncing her divine +prerogatives. The fact that Apollo held no communion +with the Pythian priestess did not remove the oracular +sanctity from the Delphic response. For man knows +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +no deity other than the one which he is capable of conceiving +with his soul, just as he knows no other red +besides the one which he sees with his own eyes.</p> +<p>Science, which he considers as an object existing in +itself, outside of his and other human minds, and +therefore endowed with absolute validity in all its +branches and in the articulations of these branches, is +nothing but the science which <i>he</i> knows. And he +knows it because he has constructed it in the form in +which he knows it: <i>fingit creditique</i>. But this absence +of consciousness from the constructing, and the consequent +faith in the realistic value of science, determine +the positions and the doctrines which produce +the consequences I have deplored. For he who establishes +a school and enacts its regulations takes as +a model his own science, without at all being aware +that it is only his own. It becomes therefore the +content of the institution and determines its method. +But a teacher who does not feel inclined to teach that +given science and to adopt that special method creates +his own ideal, which is but the projection of his personal +culture; and unable to account critically for +the intrinsic connection existing between his ideal and +his personality, he too <i>fingit creditique</i>. He believes +that the school authority has erred, and that Science, +as he understands it, must be kept distinct from the +official doctrines. But in his mind his science is not +his own. It is, he is confident, that Sovereign Science +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +which by his method and through his cult must enlighten +the school over which he rules. And so at the +point of arrival where the realistic conception of +methods must work, it is found to be effective notwithstanding +the rebuffs of reality, and it works. It +works and it acts in the only way that it is possible +for it to act, namely, by going amiss. It fails and +will always continue to fail, not so much because every +pupil has his own personality and will have his own +particular culture with its corresponding method, but +especially because whatever the number of the pupils +in a school, the human mind knows of no culture +which is not also its own free development, its autonomous +ethical becoming. A science, which is supposed +to exist before the spirit, becomes a thing, and will +never again be able to trace its way back to the spirit. +By presupposing science, teachers materialise the culture +in whose development education consists; and this +materiality of a culture known to teachers renders impossible +that other culture which is unknown to teachers, +which is going to be not theirs, but the pupils’, +for whom they work and in whose behalf the school +was instituted.</p> +<p>Methods, programmes, and manuals most conspicuously +reveal the realistic prejudices of school technique; +and against these educators should constantly +be on their guard. For these prejudices have, as Vico +would put it, an eternal motive, which at times seems +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +to be definitely uprooted and completely done away +with, only to reappear, alas! in a different form and +with an ever renewed lease of life. The motive is the +following: The school is created when people are conscious +of a certain amount of knowledge already attained, +well defined, and recognised as valuable. +Likewise man’s value socially is estimated on the work +done, and it is on the basis of this finished work that he +is credited with the acquisition of a certain personality. +This is assuredly no longer a becoming but a being; +an existent thing, already realised, which, though a +contradiction in terms for those of us who have mastered +the concept of the attributes of the spirit, is not +thereby condemned as accidental and disposed of once +for all. For it is also true that culture, personality, +science,—spiritual reality in short,—is a reality, and +true it is that when we know it, we know it as already +realised. We may indeed have a very keen and lively +sentiment of the subjectivity, and inwardness, and newness +or originality of our culture, in which, for example, +Dante, Dante himself, is <i>our</i> Dante, is “We.” But +yet this “We” looms before us as a truth which transcends +our particular “we.” It is truth; it is science. +And before this divine Truth, before this Science, we +too fall on our knees, because it is no longer a mythology, +but—our experience, our life.</p> +<p>Thus we think; thus, spiritually, we live. I meditate +and inquire into the mystery of the universe unceasingly; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +but in the background of my inquiry, from +time to time a solution appears, a discovery which +urges my exploring mind onward. Mystery itself is +not mystery unless it be known as such, and then +it becomes knowledge. Inquiry is therefore at once +a research and a discovery. And this untiring activity, +which knows neither sleep nor rest, is mirrored +before its own eyes and lives in the fond contemplation +of its reflected image, which image in its +objectivity appears to it as fixed as it, the activity, +is mobile. And no man ever felt so keenly the humility +and meanness of his powers, no one ever presumed +so little of himself, that he could not yet be drawn by +his own nature to idolise himself, to see himself before +himself, exactly as he is, as what he cannot but be. +And on the other hand we cannot but affirm our immortal +faith in the absolute truth of the ideals which +impose upon us sentiments of humility.</p> +<p>The error which we must victoriously contend +against is not this ingenuous and unconquered faith in +the objectivity of thought (which is also the objectivity +of all things). What we must fight against is mental +torpor and the sloth of the heart, which induce us to +stop in front of the object as soon as we get it. A +deplorable failing indeed, since the object is lost in +the very act by which we grasp it, and we must again +resume our work and toil some more in order to attain +it again. For the object, in short, does exist, but in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +the subject; and in order to be a living and real object +it must live on the life itself of the subject.</p> +<p>A textbook is a textbook: when it was written, and if +its author was capable of thinking and of living in his +thought, it too was a living thing; and a living thing, +that is, <i>spirit</i>, it will continue to be for the instructor +who does not through indolence allow himself to believe +that all the thinking demanded by the subject was +done once for all by the author of the manual. For +the manual, as a book intended for the teacher, meant +to be constantly awakened by teachers to an ever +quickened life, the life of the spirit, can only be what +the instructor makes it. He, therefore, must have culture +enough to read it as <i>his</i> book; he must be able to +restore it to life, to re-create it by the living process +of his personal thought. This done, he will have done +but one-half of the work needed to transform himself +from a reader into a teacher. For his reading must +lead up to the reading of the pupils; and they ought +not to be confronted with the finished product of a +culture turned out, all ready-made by the mechanism +of the handbook. So that we should now complete +our previous statement, and say that the teacher re-creates +the book when he revives it in the mind of the +one for whom the book was written; when author, +teacher, and pupil constitute but one single spirit, +whose life animates and inwardly vivifies the manual, +which therefore ought not to be called, as it is, a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +<i>hand</i>-book, but a spiritual guide for the <i>mind</i>. Unfortunately +the oft-deplored indolence which freezes +and stiffens spiritual life fastens the books to the hands +of the teacher first, and then to those of the pupils.</p> +<p>Teachers should carefully watch themselves. If the +book begins to feel heavy in their hands, it is a sign +that it is becoming a burden on the pupils’ minds. It +will end by stifling their mental life, unless its oppressive +dulness is dispelled by the reawakened consciousness +of the instructor. Teachers should never for an +instant become remiss in their loving solicitude for +their school. When their book, the book they selected +for their pupils, as the means of imparting the culture +for which the school stands, ceases to be the pupils’ +book, cherished by them as a thing of their own, intimately +bound up with their persons, then it is high +time to throw it away. For the moment a book loses +its power to attract it instantly begins to repel. It +then becomes an instrument of torture and a menace +for the life of the youthful minds entrusted to the +teachers’ care.</p> +<p>Dictionaries and grammars go side by side with +handbooks,—instruments of culture that are only too +often converted into engines of torture. The abuse +of these books, especially noticeable in the secondary +schools, is not limited to them, but is infecting primary +instruction too, and teachers should know what such +books are, and be enlightened as to their limitations. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +Otherwise the dictionary becomes the cemetery of +speech, and grammar the annexed dissecting room. A +lexicon is a burial ground for the mortal remains of +those living beings which we call human words, each one +of which always lives in a context, not because it is there +in bodily company, in the society of other words, but +because in every context it has a special signification, +being the form of a precise thought or state of mind, +as we may wish to call it. A word need not be joined +to other words to form that complex which grammarians +call a sentence. It may stand alone, all by itself, +and constitute a discourse, and express a thought, even +a very great thought. The “<i>fiat</i>” of the book of Genesis +is an example. What is requisite is that the word, +whether by itself or with others, should adhere to the +personality, to the spiritual situation, and be the actual +expression of a soul. When joined to the soul a word, +which materially is identical with countless other words +uttered by other souls, and with the peculiar accents +of the respective personalities, reveals its particular +expression, is a particular word not to be ever compared +with any of those countless ones materially +identical with it. The biblical “<i>fiat</i>,” repeated by men +who feel within them the almighty Word of the Creator, +is constantly taking on new shades of meaning, is +always reinforced by richer tones, and will always +continue to do so, as a result of the numerous ways that +men have of picturing to themselves the deity, and in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +accordance with the variety of doctrines, phantasies, +and sentiments, or whatever other forms of activity +may converge into the expression of a person’s spiritual +life. So that if, abstractly considered, it is the word +that we read, always the same, in the sublime passage +of Genesis, in reality it lives in an infinite number of +forms, as though an infinite number of words.</p> +<p>But in dictionaries, words are sundered from the +minds, detached from the context, soulless and dead. +A good lexicon—and those that are put in the hands +of pupils are seldom satisfactory—should always in +some way restore the word to the natural context, enchase +it, so to speak, in the jewel from which it was +torn. It should never presume to give meanings of +abstracted words, but ought to point them out as they +exist historically in the authors who are deemed worthy +representatives of the language or of the literature. +Dictionaries so compiled do away partly with the objectionable +abstractness, but are yet unable to conjure +the dead from their tombs. Their weakness and insufficiency +lie first of all in the fact that the true context +of a word, in which it lives concretely, and from which +therefore it draws its meaning, is in reality not the +brief phrase, which is all that historical dictionaries +can quote, but rather the entire work of the author +from which the quoted phrase derives whatever colours +it may possess and its own peculiar shade. And the +whole work in turn can be understood only in connection +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +with the boundless historical environments out +of which it emerges, in which it lives, and where its +thoughts receive their peculiar colouring and their special +significance. The insufficiency of the dictionary +comes out even more clearly from another and +more important consideration. An historical dictionary +of the Italian language will, for example, tell us +how Machiavelli used the word “virtue” (<i>virtù</i>), and +by the examples adduced we should see or perhaps surmise +the meaning of that word, the knowledge of which +is not just mere erudition, in as much as in the mind +of the cultured reader the thought of Machiavelli is +restored to life, and with it the concept which he was +wont to express by the term “virtue.” But idealistically +speaking, is this word Machiavelli’s or is it +ours,—a word belonging to us who are inquiring into +his thoughts? It is ours, by all means, and for the +reason that it belongs to <i>our</i> Machiavelli. Unless we +have then within us this our Machiavelli, it is useless +for us to search for the meaning of the word in the dictionary. +In it surely we may find it, but as a dead +body to be resurrected only by remembering that its +life is not in the printed page but in <i>us</i>, and only in +us. In our life everything will have to be resuscitated +that is to become part of our culture.</p> +<p>And the same applies to grammars. As people conceive +them and use them, what are they if not a +schematic arrangement of the forms by which words +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +are joined so as to constitute speech? And how can we +cut the discourse to the quick and extract these +schemes, without at the same time destroying its life? +The scheme is a “part of speech,” and it is a rule. +Grammar is a series of rules regarding the parts of +speech, considered singly and collectively. But the +grammatical scheme—part of speech or rule—abstracts +a generic form from the particular expression in such +a way that the paradigm of a conjugation, for example, +shall be the conjugation of many verbs but not of any +determined one. The rule governing the use of the +conditional is in the same way referred to every verb +which expresses a conditional act or occurrence, but +to no one verb in a peculiar manner. But since no +speech contains a verb which might present to us a +verbal form which is not also the form of a determined +verb, nor a conditional which does not point with precision +to the action or occurrence subordinated to a +condition, it is evident that the scheme places before +us, not the living and concrete body of the speech, but +a dissected and dead part of this body.</p> +<p>I shall not here recall the controversies occasioned by +the difficulties inherent in the normative character ordinarily +attributed to grammatical schemes. I shall +simply note that a scheme becomes intelligible only +if the example accompanies it; and the example always +turns out to be a living discourse, within which therefore +we meet again the scheme, but liberated from the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +presumed abstractness to which it had been confined +by the grammarian. And I shall merely add that the +grammatical norm, which in the realistic conception of +grammar is presented as a rule, anteceding actual +speech both in time and ideally, has in reality no +validity whatsoever excepting as a law internal to the +speaking itself, which brings out its normative force +only in the act itself of speaking. In spite of this, +however, the majority of people consider grammar as +an antecedent to speech and to thought, and therefore +to the life of the spirit. It appears to them as a reef +on which the freedom of the personality must be driven +in the course of its becoming, bearing down as it does +on a past which is believed to exist beneath the horizon +of actuality and beyond the present life of the spirit. +To them grammar is legislation passed by former writers +and speakers, prescribing norms for those who +intend to use the same language in the future. +Against this myth, and the consequent idol of grammar +worshipped as a thing which has not only the right, but +the means also, of controlling and oppressing the creative +spontaneity of speech, teachers should be constantly +on their guard, if they feel bound to respect and +protect the spirituality of <ins title='Added period'>culture.</ins></p> +<p>Neither grammar then, nor rhetoric, nor any kind +of misguided preceptive teaching should be allowed to +introduce into the school the menace of realism which +lurks naturally in the shadow of all prescriptive systems. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +A precept is a mere historical indication, a +sign which points to something that was done as to +something that had to be done then and is to be done +now. It was done and it was thought that it had to +be done. But what was done cannot be done over +again, and what was thought cannot again be thought. +Life knows no past other than the one which it contains +within its living present. The precept has no +value excepting as that precept which we in every +single instance intuit, and which we must intuit, being +spiritually alive and free, as the peculiar form of <i>our</i> +thought, of our speaking, of our doing, of our being, +in short, which is our becoming. If we look upon a +precept as transcending this becoming, and as an antecedent +to it, we misapprehend and therefore imperil +our indwelling freedom, which for us now ought to +mean not simply the failure to foster the growth of the +spirit, but a deliberate attempt to hinder and thwart +its development and to blight the function of culture.</p> +<p>One more prejudice of those imputed to realistic +instruction must still be pointed out, and it will be the +last. It is one of those time-worn devices whose history, +extending over a thousand years, reflects the entire +life of the school—the composition. Teachers +expect and demand that a predetermined and definite +theme, as a nucleus of a thought organism, as <i>leit-motif</i>, +so to speak, of a work of art, as a ruling principle +for moral or speculative reflections, be developed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +by pupils who may yet have never given the topic a +single thought, who may possibly be not at all attuned +to that definite spiritual vibration, who may in short +be quite removed from the line along which the theme +should be developed. In the lower grades the line +itself is marked, the entire contour is given, and the +pupil’s mind is arbitrarily encompassed within this +fixed outline. These methods are now fortunately +applied with diminished rigour and less crudely than +before. But the fact remains that in all classes the +teacher either assigns a theme at random, picking a +topic from a casual reading or from among the whims +of his rambling fancy, or else he conscientiously and +carefully studies the possibilities of a subject, and +develops it to a certain extent before he assigns it; so +that he naturally expects the pupil’s treatment to conform +to his own delineation; and he values the composition +in proportion as it approaches the rough draft +which he had previously sketched in his mind.</p> +<p>Here too, as elsewhere, we encounter the difficulty +of a thought which is presupposed to thinking, which +therefore binds it, strains it and racks it out of its +healthy and fruitful growth; for thought cannot live +without freedom. The dangers are many that beset +us in the practice of theme-composition, and not all +of them of a merely intellectual character. There +is no intellectual deficiency which is not also at the +same time a moral blemish; and a course of exercises, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +such as we have considered, not only jeopardises the +formation of the intelligence by urging it along a line +of false and empty artificiality to the postiche and the +appliqué, but it also, and far more seriously, threatens +the moral character of the pupils in that it beguiles +them into a sinful familiarity with insincerity, which +might perhaps become downright cheating.</p> +<p>Composition however in itself is not taboo for the +idealist. Like grammar and every other instrument +of the teaching profession it must be converted from +the abstract to the concrete. We should never demand +of the pupil an inventiveness beyond his powers, never +unfairly expect of his mind what it cannot yet give. +The boy must not be given a subject drawn from a +world with which he is unfamiliar. But when the subject +springs naturally from the pupil’s own soul, in the +atmosphere of the school, and as a part of the spiritual +life which unites him to his teacher and to his +classmates, then composition, like every other element +of a freely developing culture, is a creation and an +unfailing progress. For whatever has been frozen by +the chill of realism, and has been consequently made +unfit for the life of the spirit, may again be revived in +the warmth of the living intelligence of the concrete, +and be thence idealistically fused with the spontaneous +and vigorous current of spiritual reality.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_UNITY_OF_EDUCATION' id='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_UNITY_OF_EDUCATION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />THE UNITY OF EDUCATION</span></h2> +</div> +<p>Having exemplified the prejudices of realism in the +phases that are most harmful to education, I shall now +proceed to discuss the fundamental corollary of the +idealistic thesis as an effective remedy against the ravages +of realism. For, as I have already shown, the +realistic conception of life and culture is by no means +a minor error which could be corrected as soon as discovered. +Originating in a primitive tendency which +impels the human spirit on through a realistic phase +before it can freely emerge into the loftier consciousness +of self and power (which is the conquest of idealism), +this error again and again crops out of even the +most convinced anti-realistic consciousness. So that +if at any moment our higher reflection slackens its +vigilance, the error creeps back into the midst of our +ideas, gains control of our intelligence, and resumes +its former sway over thought. It is not sufficient +then to become aware of the faults of realism and of the +prejudices in which it is mirrored; we must, in addition +to all this, strengthen in our minds the intuition +of the spirituality of culture, render it more subtle, +more accurate, more certain, and bring to it the energy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +of a faith which, after taking possession of our souls, +shall become our life’s character.</p> +<p>We must therefore look intently at the significance +of that principle which identifies culture with man’s +personality, notice its most important consequences, +and set these up as the laws of education, since by +education we mean the creation of a living culture +which shall be the life of the human mind. The first +and foremost of these consequences, the direct corollary +of our proposition, is the concept of the <i>Unity of +Education</i>. Though often referred to, it has not yet +been attained by pedagogical doctrines, nor has it been +the aim of the work of teachers. Neither theory nor +practice—more intimately connected than is ordinarily +supposed—shows as yet that this concept is understood +and adequately appreciated. It is opposed with +full force by the realistic conception which, keeping +man distinct from his culture, and materialising this +culture, naturally attributes to it, and to education in +which it is reflected, that multiplicity and fragmentariness +which is the characteristic of things material.</p> +<p>This scrappiness of culture and of education is the +error on which all the prejudices of realistic pedagogy +are grounded. It is the enemy that must be vanquished +in the course of the crusade that has been +preached by idealism in its endeavour to liberate +instruction from the deadly oppression of mechanism. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +But in order to combat this foe we must first know it: +and we must gain a clear understanding of that unity +of education which it antagonises with uncompromising +opposition.</p> +<p>If we open a treatise on pedagogy or examine a +schedule of courses, if we look through a programme +or stop to consider our every-day technical terminology, +we cannot help noticing that education is broken +up by divisions and subdivisions <i>ad infinitum</i>, exactly +as though it were a material object, which because +material possesses infinite divisibility. Textbooks tell +us that education is (1) physical, (2) intellectual, (3) +moral. Then narrowing the subject down to one +section, the intellectual, which for good reasons has +been treated more carefully and sympathetically by +traditional pedagogy, we find some such subdivisions: +artistic, scientific, literary, philosophical, religious, etc. +Again, artistic education will be split up into as many +sections as there are arts, and scientific instruction in +the same way; for pedagogy assigns to each branch +of the classification its corresponding method of teaching. +It goes without saying that the sciences of any +given branch are different among themselves, and the +study of botany, for example, is not the study of +zoology. And there are as many forms of culture +to be promoted by education as there are sciences; +which is clearly shown by school announcements assigning +to certain years, and for definite days and hours, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +the several courses of the curriculum, that is, the several +educations.</p> +<p>It is taken for granted that Education, properly so +called, will result from the ensemble of these particular +educations—physical, intellectual, moral, etc.,—each +one of which contributes its share to the final result, +and is therefore a part of the entire education. And +each field produces certain peculiar results which it +would be idle to demand of another section, just as +we never expect an olive grove to yield a crop of +peaches. Every part, self-contained and quite distinct +from the rest, absolutely excludes all other parts +from itself. Therefore the subjects taught in a school +are numerous, and there must accordingly be specialised +teachers. And again each instructor must be +careful not to mix up the several parts which compose +his subject. The teacher of history, for example, when +he takes up the French Revolution, must forget the +unification of Italy, and treat each event in order and +in turn; and the instructor of Italian will take up the +history of literature on a certain day of the week, and +devote some other hour to the study of the individual +works themselves.</p> +<p>So also we never fail to distinguish and carefully +separate the two parts of the teacher’s work, his ability +as a disciplinarian and his skill in imparting information, +for it is an accepted commonplace of school technique +that ability to teach is one thing, and the power +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +to maintain discipline is another. It is one thing to +be able to keep the class attentive to the discussion of +a given subject, and quite another to treat this subject +suitably for the needs and attainments of the pupils. +Discipline is considered thus as a mere threshold; the +real teaching comes after. For, it is argued, discipline +has no cultural content; it is nothing more than the +spiritual disposition and adaptation which should precede +the acquisition, or if we so wish to call it, the +development of real culture,—a disposition which is +obtained when respect for the authority of the teacher +is ensured.</p> +<p>The recognition of that authority simply means the +establishment of a necessary condition; as for the real +work of education, that is yet to come. And if we +should stop at what we have called the threshold, we +should have no school at all. There are teachers, in +fact, who keep good discipline, but who are yet unable +to teach, either through lack of culture or because they +are deficient in methods.</p> +<p>All these are commonplaces to which we often resort +without stopping to consider their validity. And, in +truth, it is because of this lack of consideration that +we are able to use them without noticing their absurdities +and without therefore feeling the necessity of +emending our ways. This lack of reflection resolves itself +into a lack of precision in the handling of these +concepts. They are formulated without much rigour +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +with a great deal of elasticity, and in the spirit of compromising +with that truth against which they would +otherwise too jarringly clash.</p> +<p>First of all, no one has ever conceived the possibility +of separating discipline from education. What is often +done is to distinguish discipline from that part of education +which is called instruction, and to consider the +two as integrating the total concept of education. +Mention is often made of the educational value of discipline. +But this kind of co-ordination of the two +forms of education—discipline and instruction—and +their subordination to the generic concept of education +are more easily formulated than comprehended. For +if we should distinguish them simply on the grounds +that one is the necessary antecedent of the other, we +should have a relationship similar to that which connects +any part of instruction with the part which must +be presupposed before it as an antecedent moment in +the same process of development. But the relationship +which exists between any two parts of instruction cannot +serve to distinguish from instruction a thing which +is different from it.</p> +<p>We might wish, perhaps, to consider as characteristic +of this absolute antecedence the establishment of the +authority without which teaching, properly so called, +cannot begin. But the objection to this would be that +every moment of the teaching process presupposes a +new authority, which can never be considered as definitely +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +acquired, which is constantly being imposed +anew, and which must proceed at every given instance +from the effective spiritual action exercised by the +teacher upon the pupil. In other words, I mean to +say that no teacher is able independently of the merits +of his teaching to maintain discipline simply and solely +on the strength of his personal prestige, of his force of +character, or any other suitable qualification. For +whoever he may be, and whatever the power by which +at the start he is able to attract the attention of his +pupils and to keep it riveted on his words, the teacher as +he begins to impart information ceases to be what he +was immediately before, and becomes to the eyes of +his pupils an ever changing individual,—bigger or +smaller, stronger or weaker, and therefore more or less +worthy of that attention and that respect of which +boys are capable in their expectance of spiritual light +and joy. The initial presentation is nothing more than +a promise and an anticipation. In the course of teaching +this anticipation must not be disappointed, this +promise must be constantly fulfilled and more than +fulfilled by the subsequent developments. The teacher’s +personality as revealed at the beginning must be +borne out by all that he does in the course of the +lesson. Experience confirms this view, and the reason +of it is to be found in the doctrine now familiar to us +of the spirit that never <i>is</i> definitely, but is always constituting +itself, always <i>becoming</i>. And every man is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +esteemed and appreciated on the strength of what he +shows himself to be at any given moment, and in virtue +of the experience which we continue to have of his +being,—a being which is the development in which he +realises himself.</p> +<p>So, then, discipline is never enforced definitely and +in such a way that the teacher may proceed to build +on it as on a firm basis without any further concern. +And it is therefore difficult to see how we could possibly +sever with a clean cut the task of keeping discipline +from the duty of imparting instruction.</p> +<p>Nor is it any more plausible to maintain that discipline, +though it may not chronologically precede instruction, +is its logical antecedent, in the sense that +there are at every instant of the life of the school both +discipline and instruction, the former as a condition of +the latter. The difficulty here is that if we assumed +this, we ought to be able to indicate the difference between +the condition and the conditioned; which difference, +unless we rest content with vague words, is +not forthcoming, and cannot be found. I maintain +that were it possible for the teacher definitely to enthrone, +so to speak, discipline in his school, all his work +were done. He would have fulfilled his entire duty, +acquitted his obligation, and achieved the results of his +mission, whether we look upon this mission in the complex +of its development, or whether we consider it +ideally in the instant of its determined act, which is yet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +a process and therefore a development. For what, +in fact, is discipline? Is it established authority? +But this authority is the whole of education. For +authority cannot be, as I have explained before, a mere +claim: it must become actual in the effective action +performed by the educating personality, and this action +<i>is</i> education. And when this education consists, for +example, in the imparting of a rule of syntax, education +becomes actual when the pupil really apprehends that +rule from his instructor exactly as it is taught to him, +and thus appropriates the teacher’s manner of thinking +and his intellectual behaviour on that special subject, +and acts and does as the teacher wants him to. +And from the point of view of discipline, this is all +we want at that moment.</p> +<p>If in the course of education, considered as a whole +or at any particular moment of it, we should separate +discipline from instruction, now turning our attention +to the one and now to the other, we know from experience +that we should never get anywhere. As a matter +of fact, the distinction thrusts itself to the fore only +when the problem of discipline is erroneously formulated +by treating it abstractly. For who is it that +worries over discipline as such, and as though it were +a thing different from teaching? Who is it that looks +upon this problem as an insoluble one? Only the +teacher who, unable to maintain discipline, frets over +it and failing to discover it where it is naturally to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +found, desperately looks for it where it is not, where +it could not possibly be. And so he is helplessly perturbed, +like the man who, feeling upon himself the +concentrated gaze of all the guests seated in a parlour, +is no longer able to walk across the floor; it is the +same difficulty and impediment we encounter every +time we try to watch and study our movements. In +the same way the spontaneous outburst of eloquent +sentiments that flow from the fulness of our hearts is +checked by the endeavour to analyse them, to study the +words—to substitute art for nature.</p> +<p>The real teacher, the naturally gifted teacher, never +bothers about these puzzling questions of pedagogical +discipline. He teaches with such devotion; he is so +close spiritually to his pupils, so sympathetic with +their views; his work is so serious, so sincere, so eager, +so full of life, that he is never compelled to face a +recalcitrant, rebellious personality that could only be +reduced by resorting to the peculiar means of discipline. +The docility of the pupils in the eyes of the able teacher +is neither an antecedent nor a consequent of his teachings; +it is an aspect of it. It originates with the very +act by which he begins to teach, and ceases with the +end of his teaching. Concretely, the discipline which +good teachers enforce in the classroom is the natural +behaviour of the spirit which adheres to itself in the +seriousness and inwardness of its own work. Discipline, +authority, and respect for authority are absent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +whenever it is impossible to establish that unique superior +personality, in which the spiritual life of the +pupils and of the teachers are together fused and +united. Whenever the students fail to find their ideal +in the teacher; when they are disappointed by his +aspect, his gaze, his words, in the complex concreteness +of his spiritual personality, which does not rise to the +ideal which at every moment is present in their expectations, +then the order of discipline is lacking. But +when this actual unity obtains—this unity which is +the task of the teacher, and the aim of all education—then +discipline, authority, and respect are present +as never failing elements.</p> +<p>This pedagogical problem of discipline would never +have arisen if immature reflection had not distinguished +two empirically different aspects of human personality, +the practical and the theoretical, whereby it would +appear that man, when he does things, should not be +considered in the same light as when he thinks and +understands, knows and learns. From this point of +view, discipline of deportment is to be referred to the +pupil as practical spiritual activity, while teaching aims +at his theoretic activity. The former should guide the +pupil, regulate his conduct as a member of that special +community which we call the school, and facilitate the +fulfilment of the obligations which he has toward the +institution, toward his fellow-pupils, and toward himself. +The latter, on the other hand, assuming the completion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +of this practical edification, proceeds to the +mental formation of the personality, considered as +progressive acquirement of culture. Discipline in this +system appears to be the morals of the school. I use +the word morals in a very broad sense—just as morality +might be considered as the discipline of society +and of life in general. For everybody, it is argued, +distinguishes between the character of man and his +intelligence, between his conduct and his knowledge. +The two terms may indeed be drawn together, but they +also exist quite apart. So that a man devoid of character, +or possessed with an indomitable will for evil, +may nevertheless be extremely learned and shrewd, or +as subtle as the serpent; whereas a moral man, through +lack of understanding, may become the sport of rogues, +and remain illiterate, devoid of all, even of the slightest +accomplishments. For will is one thing, they say, and +the intellect is another.</p> +<p>The question of the abstractness of discipline impels +us now to examine the legitimacy of this broader distinction, +which does not simply concern the problems +of the school, but extends to the fundamental principles +of the philosophy of the spirit. Under its influence, +contemporary thought attacks all the surviving forms +of this ancient distinction between will and intellect, +which rested on a frankly realistic intuition of the +world. The philosopher who crystallised this distinction, +and fastened it so hard that it could not be broken +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +up completely in the course of all subsequent speculation, +was Aristotle. A thoroughgoing realist, like +all Greek philosophers, he conceived reality as something +external and antecedent to the mind which thinks +it and strives to know it. When thought, whose +function is the knowing of reality, is thus placed outside +of this reality, it is evident that the knowledge to which +it aspired never could have been an activity which produces +reality. It was accordingly maintained that +knowledge could not be more than a mere survey, a +view of reality (intuition, theory), almost like a reflected +image, totally extrinsic to the essence of the real. +But since it was evident that man as spiritual activity +does produce a world of his own, for which he is praised +if it is deemed good, but blamed if it is judged bad, +it had to follow that there were two distinct aspects +in human life: one by which man contemplates reality, +the other by which he creates his own world,—a world, +however, which is but a transformation of the true +and original reality. These two aspects are the will +and the intellect.</p> +<p>It should not now be necessary to criticise this concept +of a reality assumed to exist, in antecedence to +the activity of the spirit, and which is the sole support +of this distinction between will and intellect. We +might say perhaps that though everything does indeed +depend from the spirit, and though all is spirit, yet +this completely spiritual reality is on one hand what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +is produced, the realisation of new realities (will), but +on the other hand it is but the knowledge of its own +reality, and by this knowledge gives no increment to +its being. However, if we adopted this view, we +would slip back to the position we abandoned as untenable, +since a thought which propounds the problem +of its essence and of the essence of the reality which +it cognises can be but mere knowing. For it is again +faced by a reality—even though it has in this case +been arbitrarily presumed identical with it—a reality +which is as an antecedent to it, and leaves to it only +the task of looking on. So we must conclude that the +life of the spirit is never mere contemplation. What +seems to be contemplation—that consciousness which +the spirit acquires of itself, and, acquiring which, realises +itself—is a creation: a creation not of things but +of its own self. For what are things but the spirit as +it is looked at abstractly in the multiplicity of its +manifestations?</p> +<p>We shall more easily understand that our knowing +and our doing are indiscernible, if we recall that our +doing is not what is also perceived externally, a motion +in space caused by us. This external manifestation is +quite subordinate and adventitious. The essential +character of our doing is the internal will, which does +not, properly speaking, modify things, but does modify +us, by bringing out in us a personality which otherwise +would not have been. This is the substance of the will, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +which we cannot deny to thought, if thought is, as I +have shown, development, and therefore continuous +self-creation of the personality.</p> +<p>If intellect then and will are one and the same thing, +to such an extent that there is no intellect which in its +development is not development of personality, formation +of character, realisation of a spiritual reality, we +shall be able to understand that the ideas of two distinct +spiritual activities, as the basis of the ordinary +distinction between moral and intellectual training, are +mere abstractions that tend to lead us away from the +comprehension of the living reality of the spirit. This +distinction appears to me exceedingly harmful, nothing +being more deplorable, from the moral point of view, +than to consider any part of the life we have to live as +morally indifferent; and nothing being more harmful to +the school than the conviction that the moral formation +of man is not the entire purpose of education, but only +a part of its content. It is indispensable, I maintain, +that the educator have the reverent consciousness of +the extremely delicate moral value of every single word +which he addresses to his pupils and of the profoundly +ethical essence of the instruction which he imparts to +them. For the school which gives instruction with no +moral training in reality gives no instruction at all. All +the objections voiced on this score against education, +which we try to meet by adding on to instruction all +that ought to integrate the truly educational function, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +are the result of this abstract way of looking upon instruction +solely as the culture of an intellect which in +some way differs from the will, from character, and +from moral personality.</p> +<p>I wish here to call attention to one of the most controverted +questions connected with popular education, +because it brings out very clearly the impossibility of +keeping moral education distinct from intellectual instruction. +It is constantly asserted that the instruction +of the common people, that real education which is the +main purpose of the modern state, is not a question of +mere reading and spelling; that these do not constitute +culture, but are as means to an end, and ought never +to be allowed to take the place of the end to which they +are subservient. The school therefore, if it cannot +shape men, should at least rough-hew them and give +them a conscience, whereas now, it teaches but often +does not educate: it gives to the learner the means of +culture, and then abandons him to his own resources. +The optimism of educators in the eighteenth century, +their promise that marvels would come out of elementary +instruction propagated and spread by popular +schools devised for this purpose, was constantly met in +the course of the last century by an ever-growing mistrust +of instruction generally restricted to the notion +of mere instrumentality. For in addition to other +shortcomings it was felt that this instrument might +be put to a very bad use; that elementary learning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +might be a dangerous thing if it were not accompanied +by something that instruction pure and simple cannot +give, namely, soundness of heart, strength of mind, and +conscience strong enough to uphold intelligence by the +vigorous and uncompromising principles of moral rectitude. +The hopefulness of that past optimism is fast +yielding ground to the pessimistic denunciation of the +insufficiency of mere instruction for the moral ends of +life.</p> +<p>There is a serious error in this frequent indictment +brought against mere instruction as a means of attaining +what is called culture. It proceeds from the attempt +to separate something that was not meant to be +separated. “What God hath united together, man shall +not put asunder.” And, in any event, a separation as +illegitimate as this is not possible. Superficially we may +distinguish and apparently sunder instruction from +moral training, cut off the means from the end, and +separate the ability to read and write from what we are +thereby enabled to read and write. In fact the letters +of the alphabet are taught without teaching the syllables +which they compose, and without the words that are +made up of these syllables, and the thoughts that are +expressed by these words, and man’s life which becomes +manifest and real in these thoughts. The elementary +school is in fact, as it is in name, the teaching of the +elements. Reading, writing, arithmetic, all subjects +called for by the school programme are taken up as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +mere elements with which the pupil is expected, later +on, to compose his Book of Life, complete in all its +sections. But in the meantime it is thought unwise +to burden his youthful mind with the weighty and +complicated problems that can be solved only by the +experience of a more mature life. Of course after +he has gone forth from the school into the outer world +the young man will look upon this elementary knowledge +as the raw material of his future mentality. As +he carves out his path to this or that goal, in accordance +with his spiritual interests and in compliance with +the contingencies of life, he will avail himself of this +initial instruction, use it to further his progress towards +this or that end, good or evil as the case may be. For +intellectual instruction, it is argued, can be made subservient +either to noble impulses or to base motives.</p> +<p>Careful consideration, however, will show that the +responsibility of a school for what is called moral insufficiency, +but is in reality educational defectiveness, +cannot be removed by this kind of considerations. The +alphabet begins to be such when it ceases to be a series +of physical marks corresponding to the sounds into +which all the words of a language may be decomposed. +The alphabetic symbol is effectively such when it is a +sound, and it is sound when it is an image, or rather a +concrete form of an internal vibration of the mind. +The child begins to see the alphabet when he reads +with it. Up to that time he simply draws images or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +inwardly gazes at the semblance of the picture he intends +to draw, but he does not read. As soon as the +symbol is read, it becomes a word. That is why every +spelling book presents the letters in the syllables and +the syllables in the words. In this way they cease to +be mere scrawls drawn on the paper, and become +thoughts. They may be dim, vague, and mysterious; +they may be sharply defined or they may blend and +fuse into a suggestive haze; but they are in every given +instance thoughts that are being awakened in the mind +of the child. These thoughts have in them the power +to develop, to organise themselves and become a discourse. +From the simple sentences and the nursery +rhymes of the primer, they grow into an ever-richer +significance. From the sowing to the harvesting, from +the green stalk to the sturdy trunk, it is <i>one</i> life and +one sole process. The mind that will soar over the +dizzy heights of thought begins its flight in the humble +lowlands. And it first becomes conscious of its power +to rise, when the life of thought is awakened by the +words of the spelling book.</p> +<p>The moment the child begins reading, he must of +necessity read <i>something</i>. There is no mere instrument +without the material to which it is to be applied. +The infant who opens his eyes and strives to look cannot +but see something. The “picture,” insignificant +for the teacher, has its own special colouring for the +child’s mind. He fixes his gaze on it; he draws it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +within himself, cherishes it, and fosters it with his +fancies. Such is the law of the spirit! It may be +violated, but the consequences of transgression are +commensurate with the majesty of this law.</p> +<p>Grammars too, like spelling primers and rhetorics +and logic and every kind of preceptive teaching, may +be assumed as a form separated from its contents, as +something empty and abstract. The child is taught +for instance that the letter <i>m</i> in <i>mamma</i> does not belong +to that word (we call it a “word,” and forget +that to him at least it is not a word but his own +mother). That letter <i>m</i>, we tell him, is found in other +words, <i>mat</i>, <i>meat</i>, etc. We show him that it is in all +of them, and yet in none of them. We therefore can +and must abstract it from all concrete connections, isolate +and fix it as that something which it is in itself—the +letter <i>m</i>. In the same manner we abstract the +rule of grammar from a number of individual examples. +We exalt it over them, and give it an existence which +is higher, and independent of theirs. And so for +rhetoric, and so for logic.</p> +<p>But in this process of progressive abstraction, in +this practice of considering the abstract as something +substantial, and of reducing the concrete and the particular +to the subordinate position of the accessory, life +recedes and ebbs away. The differences between this +and that word, between two images, two thoughts, two +modes of thinking, of expressing, of behaving, at first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +become slight, then negligible, then quite inexistent, +and the soul becomes accustomed to the generic, to +the empty, to the indifferent. It knows no longer how +to fix the peculiarities of things, how to notice the different +traits of men’s characters, their interests, their +diverse values, until finally it becomes indifferent and +sceptical. Words lose their meaning; they no longer +smack of what they used to; their value is gone. +Things lose their individuality, and men their physiognomies. +This scepticism robs man of his own faith, +of his character and personality. The fundamental +aim of education ceases to exist. Abstract education +is no education at all. It is not even instruction. For +it does not teach the alphabet as it really exists, as +something inseparable from the sound, and from the +word, and from the human soul! All it gives is a new +materialised and detached abstraction.</p> +<p>The alphabet is real and concrete, not abstract; it +is not a means but an end; it is not mere form but +also content. It is not a weapon which man may wield +indifferently either for good purposes or for evil motives. +It is man himself. It is the human soul, which +should already flash in the very first word that is +spelled, if it is read intelligently. And it ought to be +a good word, worthy of the child and of the future +man, a word in which the youthful pupil ought already +to be able to discover himself,—not himself in general, +but that better self which the school gradually and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +progressively will teach him to find within himself. +So considered, the alphabet is a powerful instrument +of human formation and of moral shaping. It is education.</p> +<p>For this reason the school must have a library, and +should adopt all possible means to encourage the habit +and develop the taste of reading, since the word which +truly expresses the soul of man is not <i>that</i> one word, nor +the word of <i>that</i> one book. A word or a book will +always be a mere fragment of life, and many of them +therefore will be needed. Many, very many books, to +satisfy the ever-growing needs of the child’s mind! +Books that will spur his thought constantly towards +more distant goals, and his heart and imagination with +it. Thus the child grows to be a man.</p> +<p>Instruction then which is not education is not even +instruction. It is a denuded abstraction, violently +thrust like other abstractions into the life of the spirit +where it generates that monstrosity which we have described +as material culture, mechanical and devoid of +spiritual vitality. That culture, being material, has no +unity, is fragmentary, inorganic, capable of growing +indefinitely without in any way transforming the recipient +mind or becoming assimilated to the process of +the personality to which it simply adheres extrinsically. +This mechanical teaching is commensurate with things, +and grows proportionately with them; but it has no +intimate relation with the spirit. He who knows one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +hundred things has not a greater nor a different intellectual +value from him who knows ten, since the +hundred and the ten are locked up in both in exactly +the same way that two different sums of money are +deposited in two different vaults. What merit is there +in the safe which contains the greater sum? The merit +would belong to the man who had accumulated the +greater amount by a greater sum of labour, for it +would then be commensurate with work, which is the +developing process itself and the life of the human +personality to which we must always have recourse +when we endeavour to establish values. For as we +have seen, nothing is, properly speaking, thinkable except +in relation to the human spirit.</p> +<p>Whether one reads a single book or an entire library, +the result is the same, if what is read fails to become +the life of the reader—his feelings and his thoughts, +his passions and his meditation, his experience and the +extolment of his personality. The poet Giusti has +said: “Writing a book is worse than useless, unless it +is going to change people.” Reading a book with no +effect is infinitely worse. Of course the people that +have to be transformed, both for the writer and for +the reader (who are not two very different persons +after all), are not the others, but first of all the author +himself. The mere reading of a page or even a word +inwardly reconstitutes us, if it does consist in a new +throb of our personality, which continuously renews +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +itself through the incessant vibrations of its becoming. +This then is the all-important solution,—that the +book or the word of a teacher arouse our souls and +set them in motion; that it transform itself into our +inner life; that it cease to be a thing, special and determinate, +one of the many, and become transfused into +our personality. And our personality in its act, in the +act, I say, and not in the abstract concept which we +may somehow form of it,—is absolute unity: that moving +unity to which education can in no wise be referred, +unless it is made identical with its movement, +and therefore entirely conformant to its unity.</p> +<p>The man whose culture is limited, or, rather, entirely +estranged from the understanding of life, is called +<i>homo unius libri</i>. We might just as well call him <i>homo +omnium librorum</i>. For he who would read all books +need have a leaking brain like the perforated vessel of +the daughters of Danaus,—a leak through which all +ideas, all joys, all sorrows, and all hopes, everything +that man may find in books, would have to flow unceasingly, +without leaving any traces of their passage, without +ever forming that personality which, having acquired +a certain form or physiognomy, reacts and becomes +selective, picks what it wants out of the congeries, +and chooses, out of all possible experiences, only +what it requires for the life that is suited to it. We +should never add books upon books <i>ad infinitum</i>! It is +not a question of quantity. What we need is the ability +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +to discover our world in books,—that sum total of interests +which respond to all the vibrations of our spirit, +which assuredly, as Herbart claimed, has a multiplicity +of interests, but all of them radiating from a vital +centre. And everything is in the centre, since everything +originates there.</p> +<p>Education which strives to get at the centre of the +personality, the sole spot whence it is possible to derive +the spiritual value of a living culture, is essentially +moral, and may never be hemmed in within the restricted +bounds of an abstract intellectual training. +There is in truth a kind of instruction which is not +education; not because it is in no way educative, but +because it gives a bad education and trains for evil. +This realistic education, which is substantially materialistic, +extinguishes the sentiment of freedom in man, +debases his personality, and stifles in him the living consciousness +of the spirituality of the world, and consequently +of man’s responsibility.</p> +<p>The antithesis between instruction and education is +the antithesis between realistic and idealistic culture, +or again, that existing between a material and a +spiritual conception of life. If the school means +conquest of freedom, we must learn to loathe the +scrappiness of education, the fractioning tendency +which presumes to cut off one part from the rest of +the body, as if education, that is, personality, could +have many parts. We must learn to react against a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +system of education which, conceiving its rôle to be +merely intellectualistic, and such as to make of the +human spirit a clear mirror of things, proceeds to an +infinite subdivision to match the infinite multiplicity of +things. Unity ought to be our constant aim. We +should never look away from the living, that is, the +person, the pupil into whose soul our loving solicitude +should strive to gain access in order to help him create +his own world.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_CHARACTER_AND_PHYSICAL_EDUCATION' id='CHAPTER_IX_CHARACTER_AND_PHYSICAL_EDUCATION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />CHARACTER AND PHYSICAL EDUCATION</span></h2> +</div> +<p>The principle of educational unity which I have briefly +tried to illustrate demands a further development in +connection with the claims of physical culture. For +after we have unified moral and intellectual discipline +in the one concrete concept of the education of the +spirit, whose activity cannot be cognitive without also +being practical, and cannot realise any moral values +except through cognition, it might yet seem that a complete +and perfect system of education should aim at the +physical development as well as at the spiritual. For +the pupil is not solely mind. He has a body also; and +these two terms, body and spirit, must be conceived in +such close connection and in such intimate conjunction +that the health of the one be dependent on the soundness +of the other.</p> +<p>Before elucidating this argument, we must voice our +appreciation of the pedagogical principle by virtue of +which the ancient Greeks developed their athletic education, +and which since the Renaissance has for a different +motive been reintroduced into the theory of +physical culture,—a theory which I do not at all oppose, +but rather intend to reaffirm on the grounds of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +educational unity. This pedagogical principle evidently +originated in the mode of considering the function +of the bodily organism in respect to the human +mind, since every time we scrutinise the interest that has +always guided men in the field of education, we find +that at all times the aim of education has been the development +of the mind. Nor could it have been otherwise; +for whether or not in possession of a clear understanding +of his spiritual essence, man spontaneously +presents himself and is valued as a personality, which +affirms itself, speaks even though dumb, and says “I.” +Education begins as a relation between master and +slave, between parent and children. The slave and the +son are not supported and cared for—educated—as +simple brutes, but as beings endowed with the same +attributes as the master or the parent, beings who are +therefore able to receive orders or instructions and +build their will out of these,—the will which those in +authority wish to be identical with their own. The +superior commands and therefore demands; the inferior +obeys by replying, and he replies in so far as +he is a spiritual subject; and this reply will become +gradually better in proportion as he more fully actualises +that spiritual nature which the master wishes to +be closely corresponding to his own. Philosophy, as +well as naïve and primitive mentality, considers man +to be such in so far as he is conscious of what he does, +of what he says, of what he thinks; and also in that he is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +able to present himself to others, because he has first +been present to himself.</p> +<p>Man is man in that he is self-consciousness. Even +the despicable tyrant who brutally domineers over the +wretch who is forced to submit to his overbearing +arrogance, even he wants his slave to be intelligent, +capable of guessing his thoughts, and refuses to consider +him as an unconscious tool of his whims. The +mother who tenderly nurses her sick child is indeed +anxious for the health of the body over which she worries, +and she would like to see it vigorous and strong. +But that body is so endeared to her, because by means +of it the child is enabled to live happily with her; +through it his fond soul can requite maternal love by +filial devotion; or in it he may develop a powerful and +beautiful personality worthy to be adored as the ideal +creature of maternal affection. If in the bloom of +physical health he were to reveal himself stupid and +insensate, endowed with mere instinctive sensuality and +bestial appetites, this son would cease to be the object +of his mother’s fondness, nay, he would arouse in her +a feeling of loathing and revulsion. It is this sense of +loathing that we feel towards the brutes, to the extent +that we never can be sympathetically drawn to them, +and that we also feel for the human corpse from which +life has departed; for life is the basis of every psychological +relation, and therefore of every possible sympathy.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span></div> +<p>Education is union, communion, inter-individual unification; +and unity is possible only because men spiritually +convene. Matter, we have seen, nature, things, +the non-spirit is multiplicity. As soon as the multiplicity +of natural elements begins to be organised, already +in their organism spiritual activity shines forth. +In the spirit is the root and possibility of every unification. +It is spirit that unites men. Education therefore +cannot be a social relationship and a link between +men except by being a spiritual tie among human +minds. Therefore it is now, and has at all times been, +what it naturally ought to be, education of the spirit.</p> +<p>But as we aim at the education of the spirit, we may +or we may not take care of the body; or again we may +take care of it in this or that way. It all depends on +what conception we have of the spirit. The ancients +made a great deal of physical culture, and the Greek +philosophers of antiquity considered gymnastics to be +the essential complement of music, including in music +all forms of spiritual cultivation. The ancients never +divided the spirit from the physical reality of man: man +as a whole (body and psychic activity) was conceived +by them as a natural being subject to the mechanism +which regulates and controls nature. When Greek +psychology fell under the influence of that mystic outlook +which is peculiar to religious belief, the soul, which +was opposed to the body, and which was looked upon as +chained and emprisoned in the body, was sharply distinguished +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +from another soul. That other soul was +kept in contact with the materiality of all natural +things, and together with them was governed by the +law of mechanical becoming, that is, of the transformations +caused by motion by which all the parts of +matter are bestirred. This natural soul, susceptible of +development, and capable of gradually rising to the +height of the other, of the pure bodiless mind whose act +is the contemplation of truth; this soul imbedded in the +body, which does not therefore give to man a supernatural +being, but like all things of nature comes into the +world, grows and dies, incessantly passing from one +mode of being to another, this soul is the one that can +and ought to be educated. The soul which results +from the organic process of the physical body, and +which in its development proceeds side by side with +the transformations of the latter, could not be educated +except in connection with the development and improvement +of the body. Human thought, which then +had not yet secured the consciousness of its own irreducible +opposition to nature,—the consciousness, in +other words, of its own essential freedom,—seeing itself +immersed even as spiritual substance in the indistinctness +of nature, could not look upon education +as upon a problem of freedom which can not admit of +nature as limiting spiritual activity. It was accordingly +reduced to conceive this activity, displayed in dealing +with man, as being on the same plane with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +other forms of activity which propose to deal with +things of nature. In a pedagogical naturalism of this +sort, the mind could not be the mind without also being +body, and therefore had to include physical development +in its own process.</p> +<p>But with the advent of Christianity the spirit was +sharply dissociated from nature. The original dualism +of law of the spirit and law of the flesh, of grace +and nature, rescued man at the very beginning from the +tyranny of merely natural things, and announced a +kingdom of the spirit which “is not of this world.” +And it is not in fact “of this world,” if by world we +mean what the word ordinarily implies,—the world +which confronts us, and which we can point out to +ourselves and to others; the world which, being the +object of our experience, is the direct antithesis of +what we are, subject of experience, free personality, +spirit, Christian humanity. Man, in this Christian +conception, in this opposition to nature and to the experimental +world, overcomes what within his own self +still belongs to nature, subdues that part of him which +because natural appears as the enemy of freedom and +of the finality of the spirit; as the seducer and the +source of guilty wiles which clip the wing of man’s +loftier aspirations and weigh him down into a beast-like +subjection to instinct. He therefore tends to underrate +physical education, and sacrifices it to the demands +of the spirit. He does not completely neglect +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +the question of the behaviour of man towards physical +nature; he could not, since his very dualism is possible +only on condition that he correlate the two terms of +the opposition. But finding that his attempt to attain +freedom and realise his spiritual destiny is thwarted +by the natural impulses of the senses, in which the +life of the body is made manifest, he decides to remove +these hindrances and to clear the way which +leads to spiritual salvation. He does then take the body +into consideration, but simply to check its instincts +and control its sensuous appetites. By the discipline +of self-mortification, under the guidance of an unbending +will, he subdues the flesh, and subjects it to the +exigencies of the spirit.</p> +<p>Evidently this subduing discipline is still physical +exercise, but in its own way. The haircloth of St. Francis +corresponds in fact to the club of Hercules, and +serves the same purpose. The monsters which are +knocked down by the weapon which Hercules alone +could wield torment the saint of Assisi also; only, they +are within him. He even tames the wolf, but without +club or chains, by the mere exercise of his gentle meekness. +These internal monsters are not, properly speaking, +in the material body. If they were, the Saint would +not need to worry about them any more than about +the earth under his feet or the sack on his shoulder. +But they are in that body which he feels; they are in +that soul which, with the violence of its desires, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +din of its harsh and fiercely discordant voices, distracts +him from the ideal where his life is. They are in that +soul which thrusts so many claims on him, that were +he to satisfy them he would have to part company +with his Lady Poverty, and become once more the slave +of things which are not in his power,—of wealth, which +heaps up and blows away; of Fortune, which comes +as a friend and departs as an enemy. He would, in +other words, return to a materialistic conception of +life. His Lernæan hydra is in the depths of his heart, +where hundred-headed instinct, with its hundred +mouths, tears the roots of his holy and magnanimous +will, eager to resemble the Saviour in love and self-sacrifice.</p> +<p>This monster is strangled with the haircloth, when +the body is hardened and trained to self-denial, to suffering, +to the repression of all animal passions which +would keep man away from his goal. This discipline, +far from debilitating the body, gives it a new strength, +an endurance which enables man to live on a higher +plane than he would if he followed natural impulses. +For this more difficult manner of living, a robustness +and a hardihood are requisite which are beyond the +natural means of the body. The system of physical +culture which gives this stupendous endurance is +called asceticism.</p> +<p>But this system is an abstract one. Man’s life is not +poverty, since it is work and therefore wealth. And +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +the mind with its freedom cannot be conceived of as +antagonistic to nature. For as body and as sense, in +so far as we exist and know of our existence, we +belong to this nature. Antagonism and duality import +the limitation of each of the opposed terms and exclude +freedom which is not to be found within fixed +limits; for freedom, as we have said, means infinitude.</p> +<p>The spirit is free only if infinite. It cannot have +any obstructing barrier in its path. It can be conceived +as freedom only after it has overcome dualism, +and when in nature itself and in the body we see the +effect of the activity of the spirit. It has no need +therefore of walls within which it might feel the necessity +of cloistering itself in the effort to renounce the +outer world. This is not the way to conquer freedom. +A liberty won under such conditions would always +be insecure, constantly threatened, always beleaguered, +and therefore a mere shadow of freedom. The spirit, +if it is free, that is, if it is spirit, must be conterminous +with thought, it must extend its sway as far as there +is any sign of life to the last point where a vestige of +being can be revealed to it. Nothing thinkable can +be external to it. Whatever presents itself to it, +whether in the garb of an enemy or under the cloak +of friendship, can only be one of its creatures, which +it has placed at its own side, or in front of itself, or +against itself.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></div> +<p>This new pedagogical and philosophical view, first +disclosed to Humanism, then enlightened by the genius +of the Italian Renaissance, appears now to us in the +full light of modern thought. Superficially it might +seem identical with the classical and naturalistic outlook. +In reality, however, it has made its way back +to it only in order to confirm and integrate the concept +of Christian spiritualism and to bring out its truth. +Greek athletics is the training of the body as an end +in itself: it surely serves the cause of the spirit, but +only in so far as the spirit is grafted on the trunk of +the physical personality, and to the extent that it is +able to absorb all its vital sap, thereby subjecting itself +to generation and decay, the common destiny of all +natural beings. The physical culture of the ancients +is spiritual discipline, only to the extent that for them +the mind too is essentially body. Modern physical education, +at least from the time of Vittorino da Feltre, +is spiritual formation of the body: it is bodily training +for the benefit of the spirit, just as the mediæval ascetic +would have it; but of a spirit which does not intend to +bury itself in abstract self-seclusion away from the +existential world, of a spirit which passing beyond the +cloister walls soars over the realm of nature, induing +it and subduing it instrumentally to its ends and as a +mirror of its will. So that for moderns, too, physical +culture is spiritual education, but for the reason that +to us the body itself is spirit. Our science is not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +merely a speculation of ultra-mundane truths, but +rather a science of man and of man in the Universe, +and therefore also of this nature which is dominated +and spiritualised by becoming known, in the same +way that every book that is read is spiritualised.</p> +<p>This concrete notion of a spirit which excludes nothing +from itself gives concreteness to the Christian conception +of physical discipline. For it aims to turn the +body into an obedient tool of the will, not however of +that will which renounces the world, but of that will +which turns to the world as to the field where its battles +are fought and won; to the world which it transforms +by its work, constantly re-creating it, now modifying +one part and now another, but always acting on the +entire system, and renewing it as a whole in the intimate +organic connection and interdependence of these +parts; to the world which forever confronts it in a +rebellious and challenging attitude, and which it laboriously +subdues and turns into a mirror of its own becoming.</p> +<p>Modern idealism and ancient naturalism both emphasise, +though for opposite motives, the importance +of a positive education in distinction to the negative +discipline inculcated by mediæval asceticism. We said +that to-day we develop the body because the body is +spirit. This proposition runs counter to common +sense. But common sense as such cannot be respected +by the thinker unless he first transforms its content. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +Our body, we must remember, is not one body out of +many. If it were actually mixed with and lost in +the multitude of material things which surround it, we +could no longer speak of any bodies. For all bodies, +as psychologists say, are perceived in so far as they +modify ours and are somehow related to it. Or to put +it in a different and perhaps better way, all other bodies, +which we possess as contents of our experience, form +a system, a circle, which has its centre; and this +centre is our body. These first of all occupy space, but +a space which no one of us can think of or intuit +otherwise than as a radiating infinity, the centre of +which we occupy with our body. So that before we can +speak of bodies, we must first cognise our own. It is +the foundation and groundwork of all bodies. Justly, +therefore, the immanent sense, profound and continuous, +which we have of our body, and whose modifications +constitute all our particular sensations, was +called the <i>fundamental sentiment</i> by our Italian philosopher +Rosmini. For our body is ours only in so +far as we feel it; and we feel it, at first, confusedly or +rather indistinctly, without discerning any differentiated +part. We feel it as the limit, the other, the opposite, +the object of our consciousness, which, were it +not conscious of something (of itself as of something), +would not be consciousness, would not realise itself. +And it realises itself, in the first place, as consciousness +of this object which is the body. Accurately, therefore, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +was the body defined by Spinoza as <i>objectum +mentis</i>, as object of consciousness. Objectless consciousness +is not consciousness; and it is likewise obvious +that the object of consciousness cannot be such +without consciousness.</p> +<p>The two terms are inseparable, for the reason that +they are produced simultaneously by one and the same +act, from which they cannot be detached and this act +is the free becoming of the spirit.</p> +<p>Our body, this first object of consciousness, as yet +indistinct and therefore one and infinite, is not really +in space, the realm of the distinct, of the multiple, of +the finite. It is within our own consciousness. And +it is only by recalling this inwardness that we are able +to understand how it happens that we (“We”—spiritual +activity) act upon our body, animating it, sustaining +it, endowing it with our vigorous and buoyant vitality; +constantly transforming it, in very much the same way +that we act on what we easily conceive to be our moral +personality. As we direct our thoughts, and bringing +them out of the dark into the luminous setting of our +consciousness, submit them to scrutiny and correction, +to elimination and selection; when we stifle or feed +the fire of our passions; when we cherish ideals, nourish +them with our own life’s blood, and sustain them +with our unbending resolve; and again when we quench +them in the fickleness of our whims, are we not constantly +creating and variously reshaping our spiritual +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +life, making it good or bad, that is, eagerly and scrupulously +intent on the quest of Truth or slothfully plunged +in ignorance and forgetfulness?</p> +<p>But our body, this inseparable companion, which is +our own self, is no particular limb, which as such +might be removed from us. We remain what we are, +even though mutilated. Each part of our organism +is ours, in that it is fused in the sole and indistinguishable +totality of our living being,—our heart and +our brain, as well as the phalanx of a finger, if perchance +we should be unable to live without it, and it +therefore effectively constituted our being. The distinction +between organs that are vital and organs that +are not is an empirical one, and relative to an observation +which is true within the limits of ordinary occurrence.</p> +<p>If our body is the body which we perceive as ours, +it is this one or that one in accordance with our perception; +and this perception certainly is not arbitrary, +but our own, subjective, to the point that, in an abnormal +way, one may cease to be in possession of his +body and thus to be no longer able to live in consequence +of the loss of a finger, or even of a hair. This +hair then is a vital part, not because it is a hair, but +because it has been, insanely if you will, assumed and +absorbed in the distinct unity of our body.</p> +<p>I shall try to make my thought clearer by the use +of an example. The organ of organs, as a great +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +writer once said, is the hand, and we can look at it +from two quite distinct points of view. We may place +our hand on a table by the side of other hands, the +hands of persons sitting around us. We see its shape, +its colour, its size, etc.; we compare it with the others, +and we almost forget it is ours, because then we do +not, in act, distinguish it from the remaining ones. In +these circumstances, it is evident that our hand is +in our consciousness as a material object, separated +from every essential relationship with us—with us as +we are in the act of looking and comparing. This is +the external point from which we may view our hand. +But there is another one: the hand that picks up the +pen as we are about to write is truly our hand, the +instrument of which we avail ourselves in order to ply +another tool which is needed for our work. In these +circumstances our right hand, instead of being for us +one in the midst of many, as it was in the case previously +considered, is ours, the only one which we can +possibly use, as we endeavour to carry out our intention +of writing, which intention is our will to realise +our personality in that determined way, since doing a +thing always means realising that personality of ours +which does that thing. Our hand in this case coalesces +so completely with our being that without it—the hand +already trained to write—we could not be ourselves. +Abstractly, to be sure, we should be ourselves. But +it is the same story over again. What exists is not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +the abstract but the concrete. And in the concrete, we, +who are about to write, are this determined personality, +in which our will flows into the hand; and just as +we could not in truth distinguish our Self from our +will (we being nothing more and nothing less than this +will of ours), in the same way it would be impossible +to distinguish between “us” and our hand, between our +will and our hand. Since the hand now wields the +pen, having perfected its instrumentality by means of +this latter, our will no longer leans upon and terminates +in the hand, but it flows on and presses into +the point of the pen itself, through which, if neither +ink nor paper offers resistance, it empties into the +stream of writing. This writing which is read is +Thought, whereby the writer finds himself at the end in +front of his own thinking, that is, in front of himself; +that self, which, considering the act materially, he +seemed to be leaving further and further behind, +whereas in reality he was penetrating into it more and +more deeply. But in such a case and by the act itself, +can we effectively distinguish between thought, arm, +hand, writing material, the written page, that same page +when read, and the new thought? It is a circle made +up of contiguous points, without gaps or interruptions. +It is one sole process, wherein in consequence of a +particular organisation of our personality, we place +ourselves in front of ourselves, and thus realise ourselves. +The hand is ours because it is not distinguished +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +from us, nor, consequently, from the remaining limbs +of our body nor from its material surroundings.</p> +<p>This, our hand, knows how to write because we have +learned how to write: in exactly the same way that +our heart knows how to love, to dare and renounce, +by striving earnestly to see ourselves in others, to +repress the instinctive timidity of excessive prudence, +and to break the force of desire prompted by natural +egoism. We are then what we want to be; not merely +in our passions and ideas, but in our limbs too, to the +extent that their being depends from their functions, +and their functions can be regulated by hygiene and exercise, +which are our action and our will.</p> +<p>There is, of course, a natural datum which we cannot +modify, which we have to accept as a basis for further +construction. But this limitation, imposed on the truths +I mentioned above, must be accepted without in any +way renouncing the truth itself, and should be understood +by virtue of both its scientific and moral values. +This warning is not merely helpful in connection with +the question now before us, but will always prove +useful on account of its bearing on the many problems +which arise from a spiritualistic conception of life and +cause shiftless philosophasters to shy and balk. It is +true that there is a body which we did not give to ourselves, +which therefore is not a product of our spirit, +nor part of its life and substance, but only if we think +of the body of the individual, empirically considered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +as such. In this sense I am not self-produced. The +son can ascribe to his parents the imperfection that +mars his whole existence, whatever kind of life he +may decide to lead. The man who was born blind +may blame his affliction upon cruel nature. But the +child who calls his parents to account, and the man +who complains of nature, is man as a particular; he +is one of many men, one of the animals, one of the +beings, one of the infinite things wielded by <i>Man</i> (that +man to whom we must always refer, when we wish to +recall that even if the world is not all spirit, there is +at least a little corner therein set aside for it); he is +one of the infinite things which Man gathers and unifies +in his own thought because he is thought. The +particular man is man as he is being <i>thought</i>, who +refers us to the <i>thinking</i> man as to the true man. +This true man is also an individual, not as a part but +as the whole, and comprehends all within itself. +And in this man, parents and children are the same +man. In it men and nature are, likewise, one and +the same, man or spirit in its universality. We (each +one of us) are one and the other of these men; but +we are one of them, the smaller one, only in that we +are the other one, the larger one, and we ought not to +expect the small to take the place of the large and +to act in his stead. All our errors and all our sins +are caused by substituting one in place of the other.</p> +<p>And what is more, the large, the all embracing, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +infinite, is present in the small with all his infinitude. +Personality as such, in its actuality, does not shrink +and restrict itself to the singular and particular man. +Within those boundaries which are only visible from +the outside, it internally expatiates to infinity, absorbing +in itself and surmounting all limitations. The man born +blind does not know the marvels and the wondrous +beauties of nature which gladden the eyes and the soul +of the seeing man. But his soul pours out none the +less over the infinity of harmonies and of thought. +And the blind man who once saw, in the consciousness +of his sightlessness, cherishes the boundless image of +the world once seen, and magnifies it indefinitely by +the aid of the imagination. He even heals the wounds +and soothes the pain of blindness by making it objective +through reflection; and the personality, at any event, +always victoriously breaks out of the narrow cell in +which it might seem to be confined. So that in the +depths of even the gloomiest dungeon a ray of light +always peers through, to lighten and comfort the soul +of man in misery, and to restore to him the entire and +therefore infinite liberty of creating for himself a world +of his own.</p> +<p>We can therefore say that man, he that lives—not +the one which is seen from the outside, but the thinking +and the willing man, who is a personality in the +act—never submits to a nature which is not his own. +He shapes his own nature, beginning with his body, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +and gradually from it magnifying the effect of his +power, and crowding the environing space, which is +his, with the creatures he gives life to. We must not +consider the smaller man whom we see confined to a +few square feet and at the mercy of the passing instant. +We must intently look upon that other one +who has done and still continues to do all the beautiful +things on which we thrive, on that one who is humanity, +the spirit. We must consider his power, which +is thought and work (work, that is, as thought); and +ponder over this material world in which we live, all +blocked out, as it is, measured, and traversed by forces +which we bridle, accumulate and release, at pleasure,—this +world which has been altered from its former +state, and has been made as we now see it fit for +human habitation, which has been joined to us, assimilated +to our life, spiritualised. When we have +done all this we shall see how impossible it is to disconnect +nature from the spirit, and to think the former +without the latter. Nature may be dissociated from +the natural man, that is, one of its parts may be isolated +from the remainder. But such man of nature is not +the one who rules over nature: he is not Volta who +clutches the electric current and transforms the earth; +he is not Michel Angelo who transfigures marble and +creates the Moses.</p> +<p>Physical education, then, is not superadded to the +education of the spirit, but is itself education of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +spirit. It is the fundamental part of this education, +in as much as the body is, in the sense we have used +the words, the seat of our spiritual personality. Living +means constructing one’s own body, because living is +thinking, and thinking is self-consciousness; but this +consciousness is possible only if we make it objective, +and the object as such is the body (our body). For +as consciousness is, so is the body. There is no thinking +which is not also doing. Thinking not only builds +up the brain, but the rest of the body besides. We may +call it will, but then there is not one single act of +thought which is not the mental activity indicated by +this word “will.” Without will we should have no bodily +substance, in as much as the body is always and +primarily life, and living is impossible without willing. +What are called involuntary movements are not really +such; they differ from the so-called voluntary in that +they are constant, immanent, so much so that we can +after all interrupt them. Without the exercise of our +will we could never hold ourselves erect and keep our +feet, but would forever be stumbling and falling; unless +we willed it, the power which keeps every organ in +its place, and maintains all the organs in the circle of +life, would be annihilated. Therefore <i>morale</i>, as they +say, is a very considerable aid in curing the diseases +of the body. It is on this account that societies and +religious sects have arisen which make of moral faith +an instrument of physical well-being. For the same +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +reason, also, it is impossible for the psychiatrists to +draw a line separating mental troubles from bodily +ailments. The force of the will, the vigour of the personality, +the impulse of the spirit in its becoming, this +is the wondrous power which galvanises matter and +organically quickens it; which sustains life, equips it, +and fits it for its march towards ever renewed, ever +improved finalities. It is not temperament which is +the basis of character, but character which is the basis +of temperament. If we reverse this proposition, every +moral conception of life becomes absurd, and every +spiritual value appears ineffectual. Don Abbondio then +ceases to be wrong, and Cardinal Federico Borromeo +is no longer right.</p> +<p>Character too is an empirical concept, and like all +such concepts, it has a truthfulness which is not clearly +discernible, but dimly visible. Character signifies +rational personality, using the term rationality to mean, +not the movement or the becoming which belongs +peculiarly to reason as the form of spiritual activity, +but the coherence of the object on which this activity +is fixed, which coherence in turn consists in the harmony +whereby it is possible to think all the parts of +objective thought as forming a single whole, in that +there is no conflict or contradiction among them, and +in as much as the object remains always the same +throughout all these particulars. If in the course of +reasoning we introduce conflicting statements which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +cannot possibly be referred to the same thing, we cannot +be said to reason. Rationality is the permanence of +the being of which we think: it is firmness of conception, +stability of a law which we apply to all particulars +that come under its sway. For the object of consciousness +is characterised, in respect to the act which +constitutes it, by this stability and immutability. What +we think is <i>that</i> and no other, whereas thought, by +which we think it, is a becoming and a continuous +change.</p> +<p>But the character of man is in the object, in the +contents of his thought, in what he gradually builds +himself up to, in the determined personality which he +constitutes by thinking, or, in other words, <i>in his body</i>. +But body, be it remembered, in an idealistic sense, +body as a system, forming, with its law and its configuration, +the solid basis of every ulterior development. +This truth, vaguely accepted by common sense, +which looks upon a strong constitution as a preliminary +to a sound character, will appear in its full light +only after it has been stripped of the fantastic and +material attributes which it receives from a realistically +vulgar way of conceiving the body materially. For it +is evident that a feeble and sickly man may yet have +a steel-like character. Farinata, who stands “erect +with breast and brow,” as though he held Hell in contempt: +Giordano Bruno, who amidst the flames that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +already consume his flesh disdainfully turns his eyes +from the symbol of the religion which had thrust him +on the stake, are evident examples of a strength of +mind with no relation to their physical powers, which +were already destroyed or about to be scattered by an +irresistible might. Leopardi is right when he scornfully +protests that his ill health is not the cause of +that sad pessimism which in his mind solemnly challenges +“the unseemly hidden Power.”</p> +<p>Character is physical robustness to the extent that +this latter is spiritual haleness, and in so far as it is +compact, firm, steadfast thought. Thought in this respect +appears externally as body, not subject to the +hostile forces that perpetually beset it from without +and from within; and on account of the intrinsic spirituality +of its substance, it is a law rather than a fact, +and a process or a tendency rather than a fixed and +established manner of being. For organic endurance, +which is really what we mean by health, does not +consist in muscular development or in the bloom of an +exuberant constitution, but rather in an indwelling +power, in dynamically persistent and tenacious struggle +and adaptation, in the capacity of self-preservation, +of self-affirmation, which is the specific essence of +spiritual being.</p> +<p>This body, in which thought organises and consolidates +itself; this body, by means of which thought is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +enabled to press on its vigorous development, reabsorbing +in its actual present the past accomplishment, +and to proceed on its ascent, scaling the height step +by step, never sliding downward, because every grade +it builds remains as a firm support of the next one;—this +is man’s character, which is not an attribute +of the will considered as practical activity in contra-distinction +to theoretic activity. Character is an attribute +of the spirit <i>qua</i> spirit, without any adjectives. +We may, if we will, distinguish the practical from the +theoretical man, the soundness of the will from intellectual +originality. But just as it is not possible to +conceive of a really fruitful and constructive practical +activity without that coherence of design and self-supporting +volitional continuity which constitute character, +in the same way intelligence and ingenuity will +not become manifest without firmness of purpose, +without persevering reflection and study of the object, +and without stability of this object of intellectual +activity, which again constitute character. If character +is set as the basis of morality, then every science and +every form of culture, even those which aim at evil, considered +in themselves, as the life of the intelligence +must have a moral value, must be governed by an +inviolable law. By spiritual steadfastness, which is +the condition of spiritual productivity, man sacrifices +himself to an ideal and constitutes his moral personality, +whether he die for his country or whether he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +labour to bring light amid his thoughts. Life in all its +phases is the untiring fulfilment of duty.</p> +<p>To conclude then, physical education must be encouraged, +but as spiritual training and as formation of +character. Gymnastic exercise, therefore, far from +being the only way to this end, may even lead in the +opposite direction; and it will do so as long as it is +considered apart from the remainder of education, with +a particular scope of its own, and with heterogeneous +contents in respect to spiritual education properly so-called. +The teacher of physical education must always +bear in mind that he is not dealing with <i>bodies</i>, bodies +to be moved around, to be lined up, or rushed around +a track. He too is training souls, and collaborates +with all the other teachers in the moral preparation +and advancement of mankind. If, in addition to his +special qualifications, he does not possess culture +enough to enable him to discern the spirit beyond the +body, and to understand therefore the moral value of +order, of precision, of gracefulness, of agility, by which +man externally realises his personality, he will no doubt +fulfil the ordinary demands of physical culture, but +he will just as certainly antagonise and disgust those +of his pupils who are most highly gifted and otherwise +better trained, and he can therefore lay no claim +to the title of educator.</p> +<p>Education then is either one or not effective. The +assumption that there are many kinds of education +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +leads to very disastrous results. Education is one; +and as a whole it appears unchanged in each one of +the parts that we ordinarily distinguish in it, according +as we approach the human spirit now from one side +and now from the other.</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_THE_IDEAL_OF_EDUCATION__ART_AND_RELIGION' id='CHAPTER_X_THE_IDEAL_OF_EDUCATION__ART_AND_RELIGION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />THE IDEAL OF EDUCATION<br /><br /><span class='smcaplc'>ART AND RELIGION</span></span></h2> +</div> +<p>We have shown in the previous chapters the necessity +of rigorously maintaining the unity of education, of resisting +every attempt at separation, of opposing all +systems which treat the various parts of education as +though they could be kept distinct in practice and +theory. There still remains a question which naturally +arises at this juncture, and which we must try to +answer. For true it is, some one might say, that +moral and intellectual education are one and the same +thing, and true it may be that education of the mind +and culture of the body work for the same results; and +it may also be admitted that education being formation, +or development, that is, the becoming of the +spirit, and the spirit consisting in its becoming or +rather in becoming pure and simple, it follows that +education means spirit and nothing more. But granting +all this, was it really worth while? When we +have attained this notion of the unity which is always +the same, no matter under how many aspects it may +present itself, what have we gained? Have we here +anything more than a word? One says “spirit,” another +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +might say “God,” or “nature,” or “matter,” or +some such thing, and there would not be much difference. +It might well be that in the course of the +inquiry into the attributes of the spirit, a way was +found to invest our word with quite a different meaning; +but still, after we have defined and distinguished +the concept of the spirit from all the others, we have +not progressed much. We may have the satisfaction +of continuing to see before us this concept, with no +possibility of ever ridding ourselves of its presence, +but how much will we know of the contents that this +spirit is supposed to have? What are the principles +that should govern this education, which has been +clearly stated to be not a natural fact, but a free +action, and therefore a selection enlightened by consciousness, +by reflection, and by reason?</p> +<p>This suggested objection is not a purely imaginary +one. Very often superficial critics, forgetting that +pedagogical problems pertain to philosophy and are +therefore problems of the spirit, awkwardly try to +solve them by the insufficient light of common sense. +In so doing they warn us that in idealistic pedagogics +all particular and definite concepts vanish, and what +remains is a vague confused indistinctness of no practical +utility to the teacher.</p> +<p>And truly, if the only result obtained by idealistic +pedagogics were the demonstration that many concepts, +ordinarily considered to be substantially different, are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +in reality identical, we should not hesitate to call such +philosophical knowledge useless and ridiculous. But +in the first place we must notice that this assumed +deficiency charged against us has partially been shown +to be non-existent by the exposition of our doctrine, +which reduces education to free spiritual becoming, +and resolves the apparent multiplicity of educational +forms in the immultiplicable unity of this becoming, +outside of which nothing is truly conceivable.</p> +<p>For the defect of our system was assumed in connection +with an exigency which divides itself into two +parts, respectively corresponding to the form and to +the matter of education. For many of the pedagogical +errors which we have pointed out were seen to be +imputable, not to the choice of an unsuitable content +of education, but to the criterion adopted in treating +this content. I have already spoken of my disinclination +to accomplish a mere negative task; and in +the last chapter, while denouncing the materialistic +conception of physical education, I certainly did not +spare the ascetic view which knows of no body other +than the one which harasses the spirit and hinders its +progress toward the ultimate good; and thereupon I +tried to show that physical culture is spiritual education +endowed with that self-same nature which belongs +to education when considered as formation of +the will and of the intellect. But this does not mean +that our thesis reduces itself to a mere theoretic transvaluation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +or to a new abstract interpretation of our +present educative system, which however in practice +could not be affected by this purely theoretical difference +of interpretation. I tried to make it clear +that our conception is not devoid of practical import, +and that it does lead to a reform in education and +to a new orientation of the school. This was especially +brought out in connection with physical culture +in the preceding chapter, when I insisted on the necessity +that physical instructors be trained in such a way +that their mental equipment shall not be limited to +notions that refer exclusively to the body in its physical +limitations: but that in addition to physiology, anatomy, +and hygiene, they be made familiar also with +those studies and disciplines that are more intimately +connected with character, with the soul, and with the +mind.</p> +<p>But besides this, our entire investigation dealing with +the reasons for an absolutely spiritualistic conception +of education should have made it very clear that it is +not possible to entertain these new conceptions without +introducing in the school a new spirit, which will +not yield to the realistic vogue and to the materialistic, +pedantic, old-fashioned education,—a spirit which will +bring before us a new duty in every instant of our +teaching life and in every word we utter, and which +will impress us with the necessity of acting differently +from what has been taught by the followers of traditional +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +pedagogical routine. Whatever the subject +may be, the form of education has to be in accord +with something that should by now be the common +possession of us all, namely, the consciousness of the +intimate spirituality and of the sacred freedom of our +work, which operates not in the material schools but +within the souls of our pupils. There it gives rise +not to incidents that are unessential to that greater +world which is the aim of our religiously, serious outlook +on life, but to a process in which All is involved. +The speculative side then of this form of education is +not a useless and abstract theory, but a necessary moment +of the moral improvement, of the spiritual enhancement, +and of the general regeneration of teaching. +Indifference to this reform, and the belief that men may +continue to educate without bothering with the subtle +problems of philosophy, mean a failure to understand +the precise nature of education.</p> +<p>But the question of the content of education is a +different one. Having identified education with spiritual +reality itself, it follows that the two determinations +of the content of the latter belong to the content +of the former. One of these determinations is historical +in character; it advances as the history of the +human mind progresses, assuming now this and now +that aspect in accordance with the prevailing spiritual +interests. We who have censured the conception of +pre-established programmes, as being most dangerous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +prejudices of pedagogical realism, could not very well +presume to determine here in the abstract, the content +of every possible form of education for all places and +all times. The school, like every other form of education, +develops; and as it grows, it constantly changes +its content, which again is nothing else than the content +that the spirit gives to itself at every moment of its +concrete development.</p> +<p>It would be just as irrational to expect a school to +map out with precision the limits and the scope of a +pupil’s culture. Of all the culture carved out for him +at school, a boy will absorb only that much which is +taken up by the autonomous growth of his personality. +This will be supplemented and integrated by the culture +which he gets outside of the classroom, in all +possible walks of life, and will be so personal and of +such a character as to admit of no prevision or pre-determination +even on the part of the learner himself. +Away with pre-established programmes then of any +description! Spiritual activity works only in the +plenitude of freedom. Horace asks: <i>Currente rota cur +urceus exit?</i> We answer: Whether an <i>urceus</i> or not, +what always comes from the <i>rota</i> is something which +cannot be foreseen, for the very simple reason that +what is foreseen is not the future but the past, which +we (as in the case of experimental sciences) project +into the future, whereas the spirit is a creation which +occurs not in time but in a never-setting present.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></div> +<p>So every abstract discussion of the possible content +of education in general, or of any given particular +school, must appear crude and absurd, if we recall that +education reflects the historical development of the +spirit. What we need to do is to wait, observe, and +have faith. For God will reveal himself to us; and +God is the very Spirit of ours which at every moment +prescribes its law to itself and thus determines its own +content.</p> +<p>The other of the two determinations mentioned +above is the <i>ideal</i>, or, as we perhaps might more precisely +call it, the <i>transcendental</i>. It pertains to that +spiritual content which never changes as it passes +through the various historical determinations, and +which might therefore be styled the “determiner of the +intrinsic and absolute essence of the spirit.” This content +upon careful consideration reveals itself as form, +and more precisely as the form of the historically +determined content of the spirit; or again as the concreteness +of that form which has been attributed to +the spirit considered in itself, which is a becoming. +But <i>qua</i> becoming, and irrespective of all special aspects +with which it historically configures itself, the +spirit has already a content of its own, which cannot +be absent from any of its historical configurations. +In them this content will manifest itself over and over +again, but constantly modified by the changes that are +being historically produced. Under these varying +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +modes and presentations it permanently abides as the +indefectible substance of the spirit. This substance, +this ideal spirit which becomes actual in history, cannot +be ignored by any kind of pedagogics which aspires +to a thorough knowledge of the essence of education.</p> +<p>Having thus formulated the problem, and clinging +firmly to the principle of educational unity, we may +distinguish the forms of education which proceed from +the ideal content of the spirit. But we must always +keep in mind that, as these forms are only distinguishable +ideally, they can in no way be effectively separated, +and must be found in every concrete educative +act. So that their synthesis and their complete immanence +is the concreteness of educational unity in its +opposition to what I have called fragmentary education. +Our distinction then will turn out to be an exact logical +analysis, which analyses only the terms of a synthesis +and cannot therefore be dissociated from the synthesis. +By analysing and by synthesising, by determining the +spiritual unity without disconnecting or in any way dissociating +its intrinsic ideal determinations, we strive to +represent the ideal of education.</p> +<p>In making a rapid survey of this analysis, I must refer +back to what was said of the attributes of the spirit,—that +the spirit <i>is</i> in that it <i>becomes</i>, that it becomes in +so far as it acquires self-consciousness, that its being +therefore is consciousness in the act of being acquired. +This act is surely self-consciousness, and it does mean +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +cognition, but a cognition which differs from all others +in that it has for its object that very one who cognises. +And this is the meaning of “I,” identity of subject and +object,—an identity, however, that because of its curious +nature needs to be carefully examined. It was +shown in a preceding chapter that two things, to be +thought as two, must yet be thought as one by virtue +of the unique relationship which makes their duality +possible. Here we observe the inverse: identity of +subject and object means that in addition to the subject +there is—nothing; it means therefore unity. And +yet this unity would in no manner be intelligible if +it were not also a duality, if, in other words, the +identity of subject and object were not also the difference +between them.</p> +<p>To distinguish A from B, an initial, elementary +minimum difference is required. It is the difference, +called <i>otherness</i>, by which B is other than A. Without +this otherness there would not be A and B, but +either A alone or B alone. The subject as it knows +itself is certainly not another from the subject alone. +But if it did not become <i>other</i> to itself, if it were +not object also, as well as subject, it would never know +itself. To be object as well as subject implies the +necessity of distinguishing these two terms, and shows +that there is otherness between them. If it sounds +harsh to speak of something that first is “<i>one</i>” and +then is “<i>two</i>,” we might state the situation in a different +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +and perhaps simpler way. We might say that +the subject would not know itself, if remaining always +that one and self-same subject, it were not both subject +and object to itself.</p> +<p>Consciousness implies this self-alteration of the subject, +which by placing itself as an object in front of +itself realises itself, it being real only as self-consciousness. +This is the import of the identity of the two +terms, subject and object; or of the difference intrinsic +to the one, which is but another way of stating it. We +may insist as much as we want on the identity of the +“I,” but it will always be true that this “I” is real +only in virtue of its intrinsic difference. And conversely +we may insist, as it is more often done, on the +difference between the subjective moment of the “I,” +whereby the “I” is set in opposition to all its objects, +and the objective moment in which the ego vanishes. +But behind the difference, identity is always to be +found. Man, the more he thinks, the more he alters +himself, the more objective that reality becomes which +he realises by self-consciousness, the more fully he sees +the variation, the development, the growth, the enhancement +of the object—the world he knows.</p> +<p>The spirit’s being is its alteration. The more it <i>is</i>,—that +is, the more it becomes, the more it lives,—the +more difficult it is for it to recognise itself in the +object. It might therefore be said that he who increases +his knowledge also increases his ignorance, if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +he is unable to trace this knowledge back to its origin, +and if the spirit’s rally does not induce him to rediscover +himself at the bottom of the object, which has +been allowed to alter and alienate itself more and more +from the secret source of its own becoming. Thus it +happens, as was said of old, that “He that increaseth +knowledge increaseth sorrow.” All human sorrow proceeds +from our incapacity to recognise ourselves in the +object, and consequently to feel our own infinite liberty.</p> +<p>Subject then and object, and in their synthesis, in +their living unity, the spirit, which therefore is neither +a subject standing against an object, nor its opposite. +The two terms, each one for itself, isolated, are equivalent. +But every time human thought has isolated +them, whether striving to conceive itself, its own spiritual +substance, objectively (God), or as a simple subject +(a particular man), it has ever reached most +desperate conclusions, now totally blocking its way +to the comprehension and justification of its own subjectivity, +and now secluding itself in an abstract subjectivity, +removed from <i>all</i> which man theoretically +and practically needs in order to live. The reality +of the spirit is not in the subject as opposed to the +object, but in the subject that has in itself the object +as its actuality.</p> +<p>It is on account of this inseverable unity, by which +the subject presses to itself the object and becomes +actual therein, that the progressive alteration of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +object is also the progressive alteration of the subject. +At every given moment, the subject, altered as it is, +made into the “other” or determined, is yet pure subject, +and nothing else than the subject which becomes +conscious of itself, and therefore actual by determining +itself as subject of its object, in such a way that the +subject as well as the object is always new and always +different. Not because it is now one subject and now +another, in which case succession and enumeration +would import multiplicity, and would therefore reduce +the spirit to a thing; but because it appears and cannot +but appear thus, if observed from the point of view +which distinguishes one individual from another, and in +the same individual one instant from the next, although +from a rigorously idealistic point of view the +spirit is one, and its determinateness does not detract +from its absolute originality.</p> +<p>This dialectic in which the spiritual becoming unfolds +itself (subject, object, and unity of subject and +object), this self-objectifying or self-estrangement aiming +at self-attainment,—this is the eternal life of the +spirit, which creates its immortal forms, and determines +the ideal contents of culture and education. The +spirit’s self-realisation is the realisation of the subject, +of the object, and of their relationship. If of these +three terms (the third being the synthesis of the first +and second) any one should fail, the spiritual reality +would cease to be.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></div> +<p>This threefold realisation admits empirically of a +separation that makes it possible to have one without +the others. On the strength of this triple division +we speak of art, of religion, and of philosophy, as +though each one of them could subsist by itself. So +that commonly people believe that it is possible to be a +poet without in any way burdening one’s mind with +religion or philosophy,—especially philosophy, which +appears to be the bugbear of most poets. In the same +way many philosophers, and among them one of the +very greatest, held art to be the negation of philosophy, +to the point that it should be banished from the kingdom +where the latter was expected to reign. And +how often has religion taken up arms, now against +poetry, and now against speculation! All of these +occurrences were possible because the three terms were +looked upon as separable, as though they were +three material things, each one of which could be +what it was only on condition that it excluded the +others.</p> +<p>A superficial understanding of the differences intervening +between these three terms is the reason why +they are often looked upon as separable. But in reality +they are so indissolubly conjoined, that separation +would destroy their spiritual character, and put in its +place mechanism, which is the property of all that is +not spirit.</p> +<p>Art is the self-realisation of the spirit as subject. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +Man becomes enfolded in his subjectivity, and hears +but the voice of love or other inward summons. Living +without communication with the world, he refrains +from affirming and denying what exists and what +does not exist. He simply spreads out over his own +abstract interior world, and dreams; and as he dreams, +he escapes from the outer bustle into the seclusion of +his enchanted realm, which is true in itself until he +issues from it and discovers it to be a figment of his +phantasy. This man is the artist, who, we might say, +neither cognises nor acts, but sings.</p> +<p>His subjectivity appears empirically to us always +as a determined subjectivity, the determination of +which proceeds from the object in which the spirit, +theoretically and practically, has previously objectified +itself. But this priority of the act, by which the +artist is considered a man of this objective world before +he withdraws into his dreams, is a mere empirical +appearance. If we relied on it, we could not preserve +to the spirit in its artistic life that originality and +autonomy, that absolute spontaneity and freedom, +which is the essential character or, as we called it, the +attribute of spiritual activity. To become objective, +the spirit must first be subject; and in front of the +object in which it objectifies itself, it again inevitably +becomes subject,—an ever determined one indeed, but +nothing else than a subject. That is why the contemporary +theory of aesthetics holds that form in art +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +absorbs in itself the content, with no residuum. It +absorbs it <i>qua</i> subjectivity; for whatever the object +be which this subjectivity, empirically considered, has +enwrapped, it draws it entirely over to itself, reassumes +it, and as pure subjectivity it cannot return to its object +without passing through the moment of its opposition +to the object,—the moment in which the subject is +nothing else than subject, and finds in itself infinite +gratification. This is the realm of art, a realm from +which the spirit, in consequence of the very function of +the subject, is compelled to issue; since the subject +is subject in that it issues from itself, becomes self-conscious, +objectifies itself. So the poet as he dreams +breathes life into the personages of his dreams, builds +them up, and gives them reality. What is his own abstract +subjectivity he chooses as a world in which he +himself may live absolutely; and the ideas which mature +in that fantastic world of his—which is nothing +more, as I have said, than his abstract subjectivity—are +affirmed by him without any reserves, and are opposed +to the ideas of philosophers and of men who +prefer concrete reality to phantasy.</p> +<p>This lyrical bent, peculiar to the artist who enhances +himself by exalting his own abstract individuality, +is in direct contrast with the tendency of the +Saint, who crushes and annihilates this same individuality +in the face of his God,—that God who infinitely +occupies his consciousness as the “other” in absolute +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +alterity to him, so that the subject is hurled into the +object in a total self-abstraction. It sinks in the contemplation +of its own self in its objective “otherness,” +of itself become the other, in which it no longer recognises +itself. So he deifies this other self, places +it on the altar, and kneels before it. Thus the saint’s +personality is nullified; or rather, it is actualised and +realised in this self-annulment, which is the theoretical +and practical characteristic of mysticism and the specific +act of religion.</p> +<p>It is not possible to tear art from the spirit’s life, +in as much as it could not be the synthesis it actually +is without being subjectivity. It is equally impossible +for the spirit to be completely devoid of religiosity. +The mystic flower of faith grows out of the +bosom of art,—a faith in an object which draws the soul +to itself and conquers it. The life of the spirit is an +eternal crossing from art to religion, from the subject +to the object. It is impossible for the artist to realise +his art in unalloyed purity, since his world, the world +he has created for himself, is nevertheless the bigger +world, out of which, empirically speaking, he is driven +only by the needs of practical life, which awaken him +and remind him of the existence of a wider world. In +the same way it is impossible to realise a pure religion +in which the subject completely and effectually might +annihilate itself. For in the measure that faith increases +in intensity, and the sentiment of one’s own +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +nothingness grows deeper, and the idea that the object +is all becomes more obsessing, in that same measure the +energy of the spirit increases, of the spirit as the subject +that has been powerful enough to create this situation. +Altars must be built in order that people may +kneel in front of them. The concept of God, it, too, has +a history. And from this history no word can be taken +away on the assumption that it was immediately <i>revealed</i>. +For there is no word which pre-exists as such +before the act of him who cognises it. And to fix a +dogma, that is, to rescue it from the flow of evolution, +we should have to withdraw from the course of evolution +the men themselves who are to accept it.</p> +<p>Nothing therefore is more impious than the history +of religion, in the course of which man, now dragging +his God down to the depths of his apparent misery, +now lifting him to the heights of his real greatness, +progresses from station to station along the unending +way of sorrows and joys. The process of mental development +shows unwittingly, by the very acts of man’s +innocent piety, that God is <i>his</i> God, that the life of the +object is the same as the life of the subject.</p> +<p>The nature then both of art and of religion implies +a flagrant contradiction which comes to this,—that the +subject to be subject is object, and the object to be +object is subject. Hence the torments of the poet and +the spasms of the mystic. A perfect art and a perfect +religion, that is, art which is not religion, and religion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +which is not art, are two impossibilities. This does +not mean that either art or religion can ever be superseded +and left behind as two illusions, ancient and +constant, if we will, but none the less devoid of all +value. The very contrary of this is true. Just because +there is no pure art, religion is eternal; and art +is eternal, because religion cannot be attained in its +absolute purity.</p> +<p>The concrete spirit is neither subject nor object. It +is a self-objectifying subject, and an object which +becomes the subject in virtue of the subjectivity that +alights on it as it realises it. The spirit is therefore +a becoming. It is the synthesis, the unity of these +two opposites, ever in conflict and yet always intimately +joined. And the spirit, as this unity, is the concreteness +both of art (reality of the abstract subject) and of +religion (reality of the abstract object). It is philosophy. +Many definitions have been given of philosophy, +and all of them true, because directly or indirectly +they may, on the strength of what is expressed or +what is understood, be reduced to the following definition: +that philosophy is the spirit. If we say that it +is the science of the spirit, we indulge in a useless +pleonasm. For science, unless we distinguish in an +absolute manner (which is impossible) one grade of +determinateness from the other, is the same as consciousness; +and spirit is, as we have seen, self-consciousness. +If we say that philosophy is the science +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +of reality in its universality, we lose sight of the fact +that reality, for those who do not stray off into the +maze of abstractness, <i>is</i> the spirit. A definition which +has never lost its value is that one which makes +philosophy consist in the elaboration of concepts, that +is, in the unification of all the concepts (those we possess, +of course) into a coherent concept. This is an +excellent definition, and it warns us that philosophy +is not obtained by stopping before abstractions, no +matter what these abstractions may be. All particular +things are abstractions, each one of which yields +a concept, and all of them give a number of concepts, +which must be brought together and unified, if we ever +intend to think all things that are thought, and thus +philosophise. The subject without the object as the +artist wants it is an abstraction; and similarly abstract +is the object which religion looks up to.</p> +<p>We are accustomed, not without reason, to distinguish +the life of the spirit from philosophy. But the +reason, instead of destroying, confirms the identity +between spirit and philosophy, and for the following +cause. The spirit never being what it ought to be, +we live acquiring consciousness of ourselves. But when +we pause to ask ourselves if we have really obtained +this consciousness, and turn to our life as to the +subject-matter of this problem, which is the problem +of philosophy, we discover that we cannot answer in +the affirmative. For answering is spiritual living, a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +living, therefore, which consists not in having self-consciousness +but in acquiring it. So that philosophy +does not arise from the need of understanding the life +already lived, for the past is the realm of death; but +rather from the much keener desire of living, of leading +a better life, a true life, and of finally realising this +spiritual reality which is our ideal. But when?</p> +<p>Can we believe that there is ever going to be a +philosophy which will definitely fulfil the ideal? It +is obvious that a pursuit of such philosophy would +lead the spirit into a race to death; whereas on the +contrary the spirit is life; it is an impulse to ever more +intense living.</p> +<p>This philosophy, it is evident, is not the exclusive, +esoteric classroom discipline, the professional privilege +of a few specialists. It is rather the source from +which this professional speculation derives its right +to address all men who have an exalted sentiment of +their human dignity, who hearken to the deeper utterances +of their souls, who are able to see how much of +their own self there is in this vast world which is being +disclosed to their eyes; who, even though vaguely and +timidly, are conscious of the divine power that resides +in every human heart; who feel that this human heart, +prone though it be to all baseness, is also capable of +lifting itself to the most sublime heights, and of enjoying +the pure and lofty satisfactions which human +phantasy ordinarily relegates to heaven. In the depths +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +of every mind there is a philosophy: the mind itself is +untiring speculation, which more or less successfully +scales the height, but which is always turned upward +to the summit whitened by the rising sun. Life is +made human by the rays of this philosophy. Man is +really man when he recognises an object which is the +world, reality, law, and when he recalls that nothing +absolves him from the duty of being in this world; +of seriously being in it, which means working and coöperating +towards reality by knowing reality and fulfilling +the law. For in his freedom and power he can +never divest himself of his own responsibility; he must +therefore develop his capacity to the utmost value, and +to that end work and work, think, and act as the centre +of his world. This philosophy does not allow him +either to withdraw into the abstract retirement of his +egoistic self, or to deny and sacrifice this self to an +imaginary reality. This philosophy is never finished, +never completed, for it is his own spirit, his very self, +which to live must grow, and which must constitute +itself as it develops. And therefore this philosophy +cannot help being man’s ideal, which is always being +realised and which is never fulfilled.</p> +<p>So, then, education, which aims at that concrete and +truly real unity which is the life of the spirit, must +always be moral, always spiritual, always philosophic. +An invidious word, perhaps, for those who have had +the misfortune to fall into the mean and vulgar habit +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +of grinning and scoffing in retaliation for the unsparing +censure inflicted by the ideal on sloth, presumption, +and cowardice. We might perhaps replace this word +by “integral,” excepting that this adjective is generic +and therefore inappropriate.</p> +<p>I must add, however, that in speaking of philosophic +education, I do not mean any special course in philosophy. +Though I believe that special philosophical +training has an essential function in the curriculum of +secondary schools which aim to prepare and direct +towards higher studies a matured mentality, scientifically +trained and humanly inspired, I yet hold that +this special philosophical training can be effectual only +if all education, from its very beginning, wherever that +may be, has been philosophic. We must reflect that +just as it is impossible for a man to be moral only at +certain hours of the day, and in certain particular +places, morality being the atmosphere without which +the spirit cannot live, so that ethical teaching is distorted +and deflected as soon as it is relegated to certain +definite books, to be studied in connection with +certain definite courses; in the same way this philosophy +which is for us the ideal content of education, +and therefore its ideal, cannot but be present in every +real educative act, cannot help reflecting itself in every +throb it gives to the soul of the pupil. This general +philosophic education naturally includes art and religion, +which cannot be limited subject-matters of special +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +courses of instruction, co-ordinated or subordinated +to the other elements of the curriculum.</p> +<p>Only the particular sciences, that is, the sciences +properly so called, may be freely moved in a student’s +schedule; they may be added or taken away, they may +be grouped this or that way, and be variously distributed +in accordance with the needs of the moment +and the particular exigencies of the student or of man +in general. For these sciences reflect in themselves +the fragmentary multiplicity of things which have been +abstractly cut off from the centre of the spirit, to which +however they too refer. And because they do refer +to it, the teaching of them should be spiritualised, moralised, +humanised; it ought to acquire the concreteness +of philosophy, and therefore never ignore the exigencies +of art and of religion. For otherwise it will be +merely material instruction, “informative education,” +which in reality is no education at all.</p> +<p>During the Revival of Learning education was +humanistic. Its ideal was art. The historical life +which corresponded to this ideal was the individualism +of our Italian Renaissance. After the Counter Reformation, +art, which is individuality in abstract subjectivity, +was abandoned to itself, and inevitably decayed +in the cult of lifeless form; it became barren in +the imitations of classical art considered as final perfection, +to which the individual might raise himself but +beyond which he could not possibly proceed. Art +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +became thus the negation of originality, and of that +subjective autonomy of which it naturally should be +the most enhancing expression. So that classicism up +to the Romantic Revolt remained the cultural form +of a society submissive to the principle of authority +and religiously oriented. These conditions favoured +the study of the science of nature, which to the extent +that it is governed by the naturalistic principle is a +manifestation of religiosity. The devotee of natural +science speaks in fact of his Nature with an agnostic +reverence similar to that professed by the saint in the +worship of God. Nature, which alone he knows, +becomes the object before which the subject, Man, +disappears. But as science progresses, the need of +shaking the principle of authority makes itself felt; +the accepted truths of nature are subjected to criticism; +the power of doubting is reintroduced, and the subject +again reasserts itself. So the advancement of natural +science has gradually turned humanity away from the +shrines of naturalistic science. When naturalism opposed +the claims of religion, it ceased to be the science +of nature, and became philosophy. This influenced the +scientific spirit in its clash with religious dogmas, and +restored to it the consciousness of the moment of subjectivity +which had been forgotten. The ideal of culture, +which prevailed in the nineteenth century with the +triumph of positivism, was science, naturalism, and +therefore religion. It is now high time that the two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +opposed elements be joined and united, and that the +school be neither abstractly humanistic in the pursuit +of Art nor abstractly religious and scientific, but that it +be made what it is ideally, and what it is also in practice +when it efficaciously educates—the philosophic +school.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>As each one has a different path to follow in this +world, each one will accordingly have his own education. +But all paths converge to one point, where +we all gather to lead in common that universal life +which alone makes us men. And as we meet at this +centre, we must understand each other, and should +be able therefore to speak the same language, the +language of the spirit. We are compelled by an irresistible +need to live this common life, and together to +constitute one sole spirit. But this end we shall never +attain if man, who ought to be entire and complete, +acts as a mere fragment,—such fragment, for example, +as the æsthete, or the superstitious worshipper, or the +star gazer, always unaware of the pit under his feet. +If we continue in this state, in which one man clings to +the superstition of mathematics, another idolises entomology, +a third worships physics, and so on indefinitely, +if man insists on fencing off his little piece +of this “thrashing-floor that makes us cruel,” knowing +no other man but himself, feeling no needs other than +his own, then war will break out. Not a disciplined +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +war, governed by a law, by an idea, by reason, of +which it is the life; but a war of every man against his +brother,—the anarchistic uprising, the disintegration +of the spirit, and the stern suffering which is true +misery.</p> +<p>The dislike for the <i>purus mathematicus</i><a name='FNanchor_0005' id='FNanchor_0005'></a><a href='#Footnote_0005' class='fnanchor'>[5]</a> is traditional. +But whether he be a mathematician, or a +priest, or an economist, or a dentist, or a poet, or a +street cleaner, man as a fragment of humanity is a +nuisance.</p> +<p>We want mathematics, but we want it <i>in</i> the man. +And the same for religion, economics, poetry, and all +the rest. Otherwise we suffocate, and die stifled. For +all these are things, but there is no life; and things oppress +us and kill us. Therefore let us spiritualise +things by reviving the spirit. Let us release it, that +it may freely move in the organic unity of nature. Let +us train it so that its strength, agility, balance, and +all around development shall be able to control all its +dependent functions, which can be successfully carried +on only on condition that they agree, and collaborate +toward common life. And this is what I call philosophy.</p> +<p>Or we may call it humanity, if the word philosophy +suggests strangeness and difficulty of attainment. For +our demand for an educational reform, in accordance +with our renewed consciousness, is prompted by the old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +but never ancient desire which put the lantern in the +hand of the Greek philosopher. Education is truly +human when it has for its contents that ideal which I +have briefly touched upon in this chapter, the ideal +of the spirit, philosophy.</p> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0005' id='Footnote_0005'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0005'><span class='label'>[5]</span></a> +<p>Referring to the old phrase, <i>purus mathematicus, purus +asinus</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_CONCLUSION' id='CHAPTER_XI_CONCLUSION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />CONCLUSION</span></h2> +</div> +<p>We may look upon the preceding chapters as a kind +of general examination to which we submitted our +consciences, by reflecting on the way we have always +performed our duty as teachers, by considering our +purposes, and by scrutinising the internal logic of our +task. And our investigation has been eminently human, +since indeed man’s essence, we have now come +to understand, is to acquire self-consciousness.</p> +<p>The patriotic character of the event which was the +immediate cause of this work induced me to show that +the common spirit which brought us together was not +a mere political sentiment, of which we should rid ourselves +in crossing the threshold of the school. For +we could not but bring into the classroom our own +humanity and our living personality, in which the content +of our teaching and of all education must live. +This personality, however it may be considered, from +whatever point of view it may be regarded, has no +particular substance which is not also at the same time +universal,—domestic as the case may be, or social, +political, or whatever may be the phase in which it is +determined in its historical development. And since, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +in this historical development of our universal personality, +there is Italy with her memories perpetuated +by our immanent sentiment, by our immanent consciousness +and by our immanent will, we could not +possibly be ourselves were we not at the same time +Italian educators.</p> +<p>And looking attentively at this universal foundation +on which our own human value is supported—call it +language, logic, law,—we were led to study the relationship +existing between individuality, which is the +aim of all forms of education, and this universal spirit +which here intervenes as it does in every moment of +the human life. It intervenes in education, as the +science and the conscience and the entire personality +of the teacher. This personality seems to be violently +imposed upon the pupil in such a way as to check or +hinder his spontaneous development; but we saw that +the immediate logical opposition between teacher and +learner gradually resolves itself into the unity of the +spiritual process in which education becomes actual.</p> +<p>Education therefore appeared to us, not as a fact +which is empirically observable, and which may be +fixed and looked upon as subject to natural laws, but +rather as a mystical formation of a super-individual +spirituality, which is the only real, concrete personality +actualised by the individual. In order to understand +it, we had to liberate it from every kind of contact +with culture in its materialistic acceptance; and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +we therefore insisted on the speculative inquiry into +what we called the realistic point of view. We endeavoured +to explain how and why culture is the very +process of education, and the very process of the personality +in which education takes place. This conception +would have lacked the necessary support, had +we not carried our investigation further, and shown +that this culture in which the spirit unfolds itself is not +the attribute of a mind existing amidst other minds +and face to face with surrounding nature, but is instead +the most genuine signification of All. For it is the +life of the spirit in which everything gathers to find its +support and become thinkable. Man, as he is educated, +is man rigorously considered as spirit,—spirit +which is free, because infinite and truly universal in +every one of its moments and attitudes. This the educator +must intently consider if he wants to conceive +adequately his task and its enormous responsibilities, +which become evident when he reflects how in the +monad of the individual, in the simple soul of the child +entrusted to his creative care, the infinite vibrates, and +a life is born at every instant, which thence throbs over +the boundless expanse of space, of time, and of all +reality.</p> +<p>This adequate conception need not be elaborated +into a complete system of philosophy. The educator +must sense and grasp this infinite over which every +word of his is carried, every glance of his, every gesture. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +As he enters the classroom, as he approaches +the child, to whom not only <i>magna reverentia</i> is due, +but the very cult which is shown to things divine, he +cannot but feel himself exalted; he cannot but be +fully conscious of the difficulties of his lofty station, +and of the duty of overcoming them. He must therefore +dismiss from within himself all that is petty in his +particular personality, all his preoccupations and passions, +all his commonplace everyday thoughts. He +must shake off the depressing burden of the flesh, which +pulls him downward; and he will then open his soul +to fortifying Faith, to the ruling and inspiring Deity. +The man who is not capable of feeling in the School the +sanctity of the place and of his work is not fit to be +an educator.</p> +<p>The spirituality of education becomes however an +empty formula, and a motif for rhetorical variations, +if on the one hand we do not possess the concept of the +essence or of the attributes of the spirit, and if on the +other we do not sharply expose those realistic prejudices +of pedagogy which have been maintained in the +field of education by the materialistic conception of +man and by a tradition which is both unreflecting and +alien to all radical criticism. I tried to satisfy both +these exigencies rather by arousing the reflection and +impelling it on its way than by escorting it on a journey +which must be undertaken with due preparation.</p> +<p>And finally, in the effort to provide ourselves with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +a motto, so to speak, and a rallying banner, I set forth +the doctrine of educational unity—of the education +which is always at all moments education of the spirit. +For even physical culture is conceivable only as formation +of the mind, and more properly of character. +Education, we saw, may be made actual in a thousand +different ways, only always on condition that we observe +the law which proceeds from its innermost essence +and constitutes its immanent ideal. Every +education is good, provided it is education—philosophical, +human, mind-stirring education; provided +it does not bring atrophy to any necessary function +of the spirit, does not crush the spirit under +the weight either of things or of the divinity, nor +excessively exalt it in the consciousness of its own +personal power; provided it neither hurls it into the +free abstract world of dreams nor fetters it in the iron +chains of an inhuman reality; and provided it does not +shatter it and scatter its fragments by the multiple +investigations of things innumerable, the knowledge +of which can never bring satisfaction. For it is the +function of education to enable the centralising unity +of the reflective spirit to become articulate and varied +through the multiplicity of life and of experience, which +is the actuality of the spirit itself. Opposition to all +abstractions, in behalf of the concrete spirit and of +liberty—that is our educational ideal.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='THE_EUROPEAN_LIBRARY_EDITED_BY_J_E_SPINGARN' id='THE_EUROPEAN_LIBRARY_EDITED_BY_J_E_SPINGARN'></a> +<h2>THE EUROPEAN LIBRARY +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />Edited by J. E. SPINGARN</span></h2> +</div> +<p>This series is intended to keep Americans in touch with the +intellectual and spiritual ferment of the continent of Europe +to-day, by means of translations that partake in some measure of +the vigor and charm of the originals. No attempt will be made +to give what Americans miscall “the best books,” if by this is +meant conformity to some high and illusory standard of past +greatness; any twentieth-century book which displays creative +power or a new outlook or more than ordinary interest will be +eligible for inclusion. Nor will the attempt be made to select +books that merely confirm American standards of taste or +morals, since the series is intended to serve as a mirror of +European culture and not as a glass through which it may +be seen darkly. All forms of literature will be represented, +including fiction, belles lettres, poetry, philosophy, social and +economic discussion, history, biography, etc.; and special attention +will be paid to authors whose works have not hitherto +been accessible in English.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“The first organized effort to bring into English a series of the +really significant figures in contemporary European literature.... +An undertaking as creditable and as ambitious as any of its kind on +the other side of the Atlantic.”—<i>New York Evening Post.</i></p> +</blockquote> +<p>THE WORLD’S ILLUSION. By <span class='smcap'>Jacob Wassermann</span>. Translated by +Ludwig Lewisohn. Two volumes.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>One of the most remarkable creative works of our time, revolving +about the experiences of a man who sums up the wealth and culture +of our age yet finds them wanting.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>PEOPLE. By <span class='smcap'>Pierre Hamp</span>. Translated by James Whitall. With +Introduction by Elizabeth Shepley Sergeant.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Introducing one of the most significant writers of France, himself a +working man, in whom is incarnated the new self-consciousness of +the worker’s world.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>DECADENCE, AND OTHER ESSAYS ON THE CULTURE OF +IDEAS. By <span class='smcap'>Remy de Gourmont</span>. Translated by William +Aspenwall Bradley.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>The critical work of one of the great æsthetic thinkers of France, +for the first time made accessible in an authorized English version.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>HISTORY: ITS THEORY AND PRACTICE. By <span class='smcap'>Benedetto +Croce</span>. Translated by Douglas Ainslie.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>A new interpretation of the meaning of history, and a survey of +the great historians, by one of the leaders of European thought.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>THE NEW SOCIETY. By <span class='smcap'>Walter Rathenau</span>. Translated by +Arthur Windham.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>One of Germany’s most influential thinkers and men of action +presents his vision of the new society emerging out of the War.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>THE PATRIOTEER. By <span class='smcap'>Heinrich Mann</span>. Translated by Ernest +Boyd.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>A German “Main Street,” describing the career of a typical +product of militarism, in school, university, business, and love.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>MODERN RUSSIAN POETRY: AN ANTHOLOGY. Translated +by Babette Deutsch and A. Yarmolinsky.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Covers the whole field of Russian verse since Pushkin, with the +emphasis on contemporary poets.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>THE REFORM OF EDUCATION. By <span class='smcap'>Giovanni Gentile</span>. With +an Introduction by Benedetto Croce. Translated by Dino +Bigongiari.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>A new interpretation of the meaning of education, by one who +shares with Croce the leadership of Italian thought to-day.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>CHRIST. By <span class='smcap'>Giovanni Papini</span>. Translated by Dorothy Canfield +Fisher. <i>In preparation.</i></p> +<blockquote> +<p>The first biography of Christ by a great man of letters since +Renan’s.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>RUBÉ. By <span class='smcap'>G. A. Borgese</span>. Translated by Isaac Goldberg. <i>In +preparation.</i></p> +<blockquote> +<p>An Italian novel of unusual insight, centering on the spiritual +collapse since the War.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>THE REIGN OF THE EVIL SPIRIT. By <span class='smcap'>C. P. Ramuz</span>. Translated +by James Whitall. <i>In preparation.</i></p> +<blockquote> +<p>A charming and fantastic tale, introducing an interesting +French-Swiss novelist.</p> +</blockquote> +<p class='center'><b>HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY</b><br /> +<b>Publishers New York</b></p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.22k3 --> +<!-- timestamp: 2011-07-16 20:54:56 -0500 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Reform of Education, by Giovanni Gentile + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REFORM OF EDUCATION *** + +***** This file should be named 36762-h.htm or 36762-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/6/36762/ + +Produced by Katherine Ward, Jonathan Ingram, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Reform of Education + +Author: Giovanni Gentile + +Translator: Dino Bigongiari + +Release Date: July 17, 2011 [EBook #36762] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REFORM OF EDUCATION *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward, Jonathan Ingram, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +THE REFORM OF EDUCATION + + +BY GIOVANNI GENTILE + + +AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY DINO BIGONGIARI + +With an Introduction by BENEDETTO CROCE + + + NEW YORK + HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY + 1922 + + + COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY + HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC. + + PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY + THE QUINN & BODEN COMPANY + RAHWAY, N.J. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + Introduction vii + I. Education and Nationality 3 + II. Education and Personality 18 + III. The Fundamental Antinomy of Education 40 + IV. Realism and Idealism in the Concept of Culture 63 + V. The Spirituality of Culture 85 + VI. The Attributes of Culture 110 + VII. The Bias of Realism 139 + VIII. The Unity of Education 166 + IX. Character and Physical Education 192 + X. The Ideal of Education 219 + XI. Conclusion 246 + + + + +NOTE + + +Shortly after Trieste fell into Italian hands, a series of lectures was +arranged for the school teachers of the city, in order to welcome them +to their new duties as citizens and officials of Italy. The task of +opening the series was assigned to Giovanni Gentile, Professor of +Philosophy in the University of Rome, who delivered the lectures which +constitute the present volume. At my request Signor Gentile has +rewritten the first chapter, eliminating some of the more local of the +allusions which the nature of the original occasion called forth, and +Senatore Croce has very generously contributed his illuminating +Introduction. The volume as it stands is more than a treatise on +education: it is at one and the same time an introduction to the thought +of one of the greatest of living philosophers, and an introduction to +the study of all philosophy. If the teachers of Trieste were able to +understand and to enjoy a philosophic discussion of their chosen work, +why should not the teachers of America? + +J. E. S. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +The author of this book has been working in the same field with me for +over a quarter of a century, ever since the time when we undertook--he a +very young man, and I somewhat his senior--to shake Italy out of the +doze of naturalism and positivism back to idealistic philosophy; or, as +it would be better to say, to philosophy pure and simple, if indeed +philosophy is always idealism. + +Together we founded a review, the _Critica_, and kept it going by our +contributions; together we edited collections of classical authors; and +together we engaged in many lively controversies. And it seems indeed as +though we really succeeded in laying hold of and again firmly +re-establishing in Italy the tradition of philosophical studies, thus +welding a chain which evidently has withstood the strain and destructive +fury of the war and its afterclaps. + +By this I do not mean to imply that our gradual achievements were the +result of a definite preconcerted plan. Our work was the spontaneous +consequence of our spontaneous mental development and of the spontaneous +agreement of our minds. And therefore this common task, too, gradually +becoming differentiated in accordance with the peculiarities of our +temperaments, our tendencies, and our attitudes, resulted in a kind of +division of labour between us. So that whereas I by preference have +devoted my attention to the history of literature, Gentile has +dedicated himself more particularly to the history of philosophy and +especially of Italian philosophy, not only as a thinker but as a +scholar too, and as a philologist. He may be said to have covered the +entire field from the Middle Ages to the present time by his works on +Scholasticism in Italy, on Bruno, on Telesio, on Renaissance +philosophy, on Neapolitan philosophy from Genovesi to Galluppi, on +Rosmini, on Gioberti, and on the philosophical writers from 1850 to +1900. And though his comprehensive _History of Italian Philosophy_, +published in parts, is far from being finished, the several sections +of it have been elaborated and cast in the various monographs which I +have just mentioned. + +In addition to this, Gentile has been devoting special attention to +religious problems. He took a very important part in the inquiry into +and criticism of "modernism," the hybrid nature of which he laid bare, +exposing both the inner contradictions and the scanty sincerity of the +movement. His handling of this question was shown to be effective by the +fact, among others, that the authors of the encyclical _Pascendi_, which +brought upon Modernism the condemnation of the Church, availed +themselves of the sharp edge of Gentile's logical arguments, prompted +by scientific loyalty and dictated by moral righteousness. + +Finally, and in a more close connection with the present work, it will +be remembered that Gentile has done away with the chaotic pedagogy of +the positivistic school, and has also definitely criticised the +educational theory of Herbart. As far back as 1900 he published a +monograph of capital importance, in which he showed that pedagogy in so +far as it is philosophical resolves itself without residuum into the +philosophy of the spirit; for the science of the spirit's education can +not but be the science of the spirit's development,--of its dialectics, +of its necessity. + +Indeed, we owe it to Gentile that Italian pedagogy has attained in the +present day a simplicity and a depth of concepts unknown elsewhere. In +Italy, not educational science alone, but the practice of it and its +political aspects have been thoroughly recast and amply developed. And +this, too, is due pre-eminently to the work of Gentile. His authority +therefore is powerfully felt in schools of all grades, for he has lived +intensely the life of the school and loves it dearly. + +In addition to these differences arising from our division of labour, +others may of course be noticed, and they are to be found in the form +that philosophical doctrines have taken on in each of us. Identity is +impossible in this field, for philosophy, like art, is closely bound up +with the personality of the thinker, with his spiritual interests, and +with his experiences of life. There is never true identity except in the +so-called "philosophical school," which indicates the death of a +philosophy, in the same way that the poetical school proclaims death in +poetry. + +And so it has come about that our general conception of philosophy as +simple philosophy of the spirit--of the subject, and never of nature, or +of the object--has developed a peculiar stress in Gentile, for whom +philosophy is above all that point in which every abstraction is +overcome and submerged in the concreteness of the act of Thought; +whereas for me philosophy is essentially methodology of the one real and +concrete Thinking--of historical Thinking. So that while he strongly +emphasises unity, I no less energetically insist on the distinction and +dialectics of the forms of the spirit as a necessary formation of the +methodology of historical judgment. But of this enough, especially since +the reader can only become interested in these differences after he has +acquired a more advanced knowledge of contemporary Italian philosophy. + +I am convinced that the translation and popularisation of Gentile's work +will contribute to the toilsome formation of that consciousness, of that +system of convictions, of that moral and mental faith which is the +profound need of our times. For our age, eager and anxious for Faith, is +perhaps not yet completely resigned to look for the new creed of +humanity there where alone it may be found, where by firm resolve it +may be secured--in pure Thought. Clear-sighted observers have perhaps +not failed to notice that the World War, in addition to every thing +else, has been a strife of religions, a clash of conflicting conceptions +of life, a struggle of opposed philosophies. It is surely not the duty +of thinkers to settle economic and political contentions by ineffective +appeals to the universal brotherhood of man; but it is rather their duty +to compose mental differences and antagonisms, and thus form the new +faith of humanity--a new Christianity or a new Humanism, as we may wish +to call it. Such a faith will certainly not be spared the conflicts from +which ancient Christianity itself was not free; but it may reasonably be +hoped that it will rescue us from intellectual anarchy, from unbridled +individualism, from sensualism, from scepticism, from pessimism, from +every aberration which for a century and a half has been harassing the +soul of man and the society of mankind under the name of Romanticism. + +BENEDETTO CROCE. + +ROME, April, 1921. + + + + +CHAPTER I + +EDUCATION AND NATIONALITY + + +Participation on the part of elementary school teachers in the work and +studies of the Universities has always seemed to me to constitute a real +need of culture and of primary education. For the elementary school, by +the very nature of the professional training of its teachers, is exposed +to a grave danger from which it must be rescued if we mean to keep it +alive. + +The training of the elementary school teacher tends to be dogmatic. True +it is that vigilant individuality and passionate love for his +exquisitely spiritual calling impel the school teacher to an untiring +criticism of his methods, of his actual teaching, and of the life of the +school which he directs and promotes. But nevertheless in consequence of +those very studies by which he has prepared himself to be an elementary +instructor, he is led to look upon that learning which constitutes his +mental equipment and the foundation of all his future teaching, as +something quite finished, rounded out, enclosed in definite formulas, +rules, and laws, all of which have been ascertained once for all and are +no longer susceptible of ulterior revision. He looks upon this learning +not as a developing organism, but as something definitely moulded and +stereotyped. From this the conclusion is drawn that a certain kind of +knowledge may serve as a corner stone for the whole school edifice. +Since his discipline and his teaching consist mainly of elements which +because of their abstractness miss the renovating flow of spiritual +life, the teacher slowly but surely ends by shutting himself up in a +certain number of ideas, which are final as far as he is concerned. They +are never corrected or transformed; in their mechanical fixity they +cease to live; and the mind which cherishes and preserves them loses its +natural tendency to doubt. Yet what is doubt but dissatisfaction with +what is known and with the manner of knowing, and a spur to further +inquiry, to better and fuller learning, to self scrutiny, to an +examination of one's own sentiments, one's own character, and an +inducement to broadmindedness, to a welcoming receptiveness of all the +suggestions and all the teachings which life at all moments generously +showers on us? + +The remedy against this natural tendency of the teacher's mind is to be +found in the University, where in theory, and so far as is possible, in +practice too, science is presented not as ready-made, definitely turned +out in final theories, enclosed in consecrated manuals; but as inquiry, +as research, as spiritual activity which does not rest satisfied with +its accomplishments, but for ever feels that it does not yet know or +does not know enough, aware of the difficulties which threaten every +attained position, and ready unrestingly to track them, to reveal them, +and meet them squarely. This life, which is perpetual criticism, and +unceasing progress in a learning which is never completed, which never +aspires to be complete, is the serious and fruitful purpose of the +University. Here we must come, to restore freshness to our spiritual +activities, which alone give value to knowledge, and wrest it from +deadening crystallisation, from mechanical rigidity. For this reason, it +seems to me, special provision should be made in the University to +satisfy the needs of school teachers. It is not a question of merely +furnishing them with additional information which they might just as +well get out of books. The University must act on their minds, shake +them, start them going, instil in them salutary doubt by criticism, and +develop a taste for true knowledge. + +The following chapters contain a series of University lectures, in +accordance with these criteria, and delivered originally to the +elementary teachers of Trieste, now for the first time again an Italian +city. They constitute a course which aims not to increase the quantity +of culture, but to change its character. It is an attempt to introduce +the elementary teacher into those spiritual workshops which are the +halls of a University, to induce him to take part in the original +investigations which constantly contribute to the formation of our +national learning; which forever make and reshape our ideas and our +convictions as to what we should want Italian science to be, the Italian +concepts of life and literature; as to what constitute the heirloom of +our school, that sacred possession bequeathed to us by our forefathers +which makes us what we are, which gives us a name and endows us with a +personality, by which we are enabled to look forward to a future of +Italy which is not solely economic and political, but moral and +intellectual as well. + +And thus, because of the time, the place, the audience, and the subject, +we are from the start brought face to face with a serious question,--a +question which has often been debated, and which in the last few years, +on account of the exasperation of national sentiment brought about by +the World War, has become the object of passionate controversies. For if +it has been frequently argued on one side that science is by nature and +ought to be national, there has been no lack of warning from the other +side as to the dangers of this position. For war, it was said, would, +sooner or later, come to an end and be a thing of the past; whereas +truth never sets, never becomes a thing of the past; it is error alone +that is destined to pass and disappear. We were reminded of the fact +that what is scientifically true and artistically beautiful is beautiful +and true beyond no less than within the national frontier; and that only +on this condition is it worthy of its name. This question therefore +presents itself as a preliminary to our investigation, and it is for us +to examine it. We shall do so in as brief a manner as the subject will +allow. + +We shall first point out the inutility of distinguishing science from +culture, education from instruction. Those who insist on these +distinctions maintain that though a school is never national in virtue +of the content of its scientific teaching, it must nevertheless be +national in that it transforms science into culture, makes it over into +an instrument with which to shape consciousness and conscience, and uses +it as a tool for the making of men and for the training of citizens. +Thus we have as an integral part of science a form of action directed on +the character and the will of the young generations that are being +nurtured and raised in accordance with national traditions and in view +of the ends which the state wants to attain. Such distinctions however +complicate but do not resolve the controversy. They entangle it with +other questions which it were better to leave untouched at this +juncture. For it might be said of questions what Manzoni said of books: +one at a time is enough--if it isn't too much. + +We shall therefore try to simplify matters, and begin by clarifying the +two concepts of nationality and of knowledge, in order to define the +concept of the "nationality of knowledge." What, then, is the nation? A +very intricate question, indeed, over which violent discussions are +raging, and all the more passionately because the premises and +conclusions of this controversy are never maintained in the peaceful +seclusion of abstract speculative theories, but are dragged at every +moment in the very midst of the concrete interests of the men themselves +who affirm or deny the value of nationalities. So that serious +difficulties are encountered every time an attempt is made to determine +the specific and concrete content of this concept of the nation, which +is ever present, and yet ever elusive. Proteus-like, it appears before +us, but as we try to grasp it, it changes semblance and breaks away. It +is visible to the immediate intuition of every national consciousness, +but it slips from thought as we strive to fix its essence. + +Is it common territory that constitutes nationality? or is it common +language? or political life led in common? or the accumulation of +memories, of traditions, and of customs by which a people looks back to +_one_ past where it never fails to find itself? Or is it perhaps the +relationship which binds together all the individuals of a community +into a strong and compact structure, assigning a mission and an +apostolate to a people's faith? One or the other of these elements, or +all of them together, have in turn been proposed and rejected with +equally strong arguments. For in each case it may be true or it may be +false that the given element constitutes the essence of a people's +nationality, or of any historical association whatsoever. All these +elements, whether separately or jointly, may have two different +meanings, one of which makes them a mere accidental content of the +national consciousness, whereas the other establishes them as necessary, +essential, and unfailing constituents. For they may have a merely +natural value, or they may have a moral and spiritual one. Our +birth-land, which nourished us in our infancy, and now shelters the +bodies of our parents, the mountains and the shores that surround it and +individualise it, these are natural entities. They are not man-made; we +cannot claim them, nor can we fasten our existence to them. Even our +speech, our religion itself, which do indeed live in the human mind, may +yet be considered as natural facts similar to the geographical accidents +which give boundaries and elevation to the land of a people. We may, +abstractly, look upon our language as that one which was spoken before +we were born, by our departed ancestors who somehow produced this +spiritual patrimony of which we now have the use and enjoyment, very +much in the same way that we enjoy the sunlight showered upon us by +nature. In this same way a few, perhaps many, conceive of religion: they +look upon it as something bequeathed and inherited, and not therefore as +the fruit of our own untiring faith and the correlate of our actual +personality. All these elements in so far as they are natural are +evidently extraneous to our personality. We do dwell within this +peninsula cloistered by the Alps; we delight in this luminous sky, in +our charming shores smiled upon by the waters of the Mediterranean. But +if we emigrate from this lovely abode, if under the stress of economic +motives we traverse the ocean and gather, a number of us, somewhere +across the Atlantic; and there, united by the natural tie of common +origin, and fastened by the identity of speech, we maintain ourselves as +a special community, with common interests and peculiar moral +affinities, then, in spite of the severance from our native peninsula, +we have preserved our nationality: Italy has crossed the ocean in our +wake. Not only can we sunder ourselves from our land, but we may even +relinquish our customs, forget our language, abandon our religion; or we +may, within our own fatherland, be kept separate by peculiar historical +traditions, by differences of dialects or even of language, by religion, +by clashing interests, and yet respond with the same sentiment and the +same soul to the sound of one Name, to the colours of one flag, to the +summons of common hopes, to the alarm of common dangers. + +And it is then that we feel ourselves to be a people; then are we a +nation. It is not what we put within this concept that gives consistency +and reality to the concept itself; it is the act of spiritual energy +whereby we cling to a certain element or elements in the consciousness +of that collective personality to which we feel we belong. Nationality +consists not in content which may vary, but in the form which a certain +content of human consciousness assumes when it is felt to constitute a +nation's character. + +But this truth is still far from being recognised. Its existence is not +even suspected by those who utilise a materially constituted nationality +as a title, that is, an antecedent, and a support for political rights +claimed by more or less considerable ethnical aggregates that are more +or less developed and more or less prepared to take on the form of free +and independent states and to secure recognition of a _de facto_ +political personality on the strength of an assumed _de jure_ +existence. + +This truth, however, was grasped by the profound intuition of Mazzini, +the apostle of nationalities, the man who roused our national energies, +and whose irresistible call awakened Italy and powerfully impelled her +to affirm her national being. Even from the first years of the _Giovine +Italia_ he insisted that Italy, when still merely an idea, prior to her +taking on a concrete and actual political reality, was not a people and +was not a nation. For a nation, he maintained, is not something existing +in nature; but a great spiritual reality. Therefore like all that is in +and for the spirit, it is never a fact ready to be ascertained, but +always a mission, a purpose, something that has to be realised--an +action. + +The Italians to whom Mazzini spoke were not the people around him. He +was addressing that future people which the Italians themselves had to +create. And they would create it by fixing their souls on one idea--the +idea of a fatherland to be conquered--a sacred idea, so noble that +people would live and die for it, as for that sovereign and ultimate +Good for which all sacrifices are gladly borne, without which man can +not live, outside of which he finds nothing that satisfies him, nothing +that is conducive to a life's work. For Mazzini nationality is not +inherited wealth, but it is man's own conquest. A people can not +faint-heartedly claim from others recognition of their nation, but must +themselves demonstrate its existence, realise it by their willingness to +fight and die for its independence: independence which is freedom and +unity and constitutes the nation. It is not true that first comes the +nation and then follows the state; the nation is the state when it has +triumphed over the enemy, and has overcome the oppression, which till +then were hindering its formation. It is not therefore a vague +aspiration or a faint wish, but an active faith, an energetic volition +which creates, in the freed political Power, the reality of its own +moral personality and of its collective consciousness. Hence the lofty +aim of Mazzini in insisting that Italy should not be made with the help +of foreigners but should be a product of the revolution, that is, of its +own will. + +And truly the nation is, substantially, as Mazzini saw and firmly +believed, the common will of a people which affirms itself and thus +secures self-realisation. A nation is a nation only when it wills to be +one. I said, when it really wills, not when it merely says it does. It +must therefore act in such a manner as to realise its own personality in +the form of the State beyond which there is no collective will, no +common personality of the people. And it must act seriously, sacrificing +the individual to the collective whole, and welcoming martyrdom, which +in every case is but the sacrifice of the individual to the universal, +the lavishing of our own self to the ideal for which we toil. + +From this we are not, however, to infer that a nation can under no +circumstances exist prior to the formation of its State. For if this +formation means the formal proclamation or the recognition by other +States, it surely does pre-exist. But it does not if we consider that +the proclamation of sovereignty is a moment in a previously initiated +process, and the effect of pre-existing forces already at work; which +effect is never definite because a State, even after it has been +constituted, continues to develop in virtue of those very forces which +produced it; so that it is constantly renewing and continually +reconstituting itself. Hence a State is always a future. It is that +state which this very day we must set up, or rather at this very +instant, and with all our future efforts bent to that political ideal +which gleams before us, not only in the light of a beautiful thought, +but as the irresistible need of our own personality. + +The nation therefore is as intimately pertinent and native to our own +being as the State, considered as Universal Will, is one with our +concrete and actual ethical personality. Italy for us is the fatherland +which lives in our souls as that complex and lofty moral idea which we +are realising. We realise it in every instant of our lives, by our +feelings, and by our thoughts, by our speech and by our imagination, +indeed, by our whole life which concretely flows into that Will which is +the State and which thus makes itself felt in the world. And this Will, +this State is Italy, which has fought and won; which has struggled for a +long time amid errors and sorrows, hopes and dejection, manifestations +of strength and confessions of weakness, but always with a secret +thought, with a deep-seated aspiration which sustained her throughout +her entire ordeal, now exalting her in the flush of action, now, in the +critical moment of resistance, confirming and fortifying her by the +undying faith in ultimate triumph. This nation, which we all wish to +raise to an ever loftier station of honour and of beauty, even though we +differ as to the means of attaining this end, is it not the substance of +our personality,--of that personality which we possess not as +individuals who drift with the current, but as men who have a powerful +self-consciousness and who look upward for their destiny? + +If we thus understand the nation, it follows that not only every man +must bear the imprint of his nationality, but that also there is no true +science, no man's science, which is not national. The ancients believed, +in conformity with the teachings of the Greeks, that science soars +outside of the human life, above the vicissitudes of mortals, beyond the +current of history, which is troubled by the fatal conflicts of error, +by falterings and doubts, and by the unsatisfied thirst for knowledge. +Truth, lofty, pure, motionless, and unchangeable, was to them the fixed +goal toward which the human mind moved, but completely severed from it +and transcendent. This concept, after two thousand years of speculation, +was to reveal itself as abstract and therefore fallacious,--abstract +from the human mind, which at every given instance mirrors itself in +such an image of truth, ever gazing upon an eternal ideal but always +intent on reshaping it in a new and more adequate form. The modern +world, at first with dim consciousness, and guided rather by a fortunate +intuition than by a clear concept of its own real orientation, then with +an ever clearer, ever more critical conviction, has elaborated a concept +which is directly antithetical to the classical idea of a celestial +truth removed from the turmoil of earthly things. It has accordingly and +by many ways reached the conclusion that reality, lofty though it be, +and truth itself, which nourishes the mind and alone gives validity to +human thought, are in life itself, in the development of the mind, in +the growth of the human personality, and that this personality, though +ideally beyond our grasp, is yet in the concrete always historical and +actual, and realises itself in its immanent value. It therefore creates +its truth and its world. Modern philosophy and modern consciousness no +longer point to values which, transcending history, determine its +movement and its direction by external finalities: they show to man that +the lofty aim which is his law is within himself; that it is in his ever +unsatisfied personality as it unceasingly strains upward towards its own +ideal. + +Science is no longer conceived to-day as the indifferent pure matter of +the intellect. It is an interest which invests the entire person, extols +it and with it moves onward in the eternal rhythm of an infinite +development. Science is not for us the abstract contemplation of yore; +it is self-consciousness that man acquires, and by means of which he +actuates his own humanity. And therefore science is no longer an +adornment or an equipment of the mind, considered as diverse to its +content; it is culture, and the formation of this very mind. So that +whenever science is as yet so abstract that it seems not to touch the +person and fails to form it or transform it, it is an indication that it +is not as yet true science. + +So we conclude thus: he who distinguishes his person from his knowledge +is ignorant of the nature of knowledge. The modern teacher knows of no +science which is not an act of a personality. It knows no personality +which admits of being sequestered from its ideas, from its ways of +thinking and of feeling, from that greater life which is the nation. +Concrete personality then is nationality, and therefore neither the +school nor science possesses a learning which is not national. + +And for this reason therefore our educational reforms which are inspired +by the teachings of modern idealistic philosophy demand that the school +be animated and vivified by the spiritual breath of the fatherland. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +EDUCATION AND PERSONALITY + + +It is essential at the very outset to understand clearly what is meant +by _concrete personality_, and why the particular or empirical +personality, as we are usually accustomed to consider it, is nothing +more than an abstraction. + +Ordinarily, relying on the most obvious data of experience, we are led +to believe that the sphere of our moral personality coincides exactly +with the sphere of our physical person, and is therefore limited and +contained by the surface of our material body. We consider this body in +itself as an indivisible whole, with such reciprocal correspondence and +interdependence of its parts as to become a veritable system. It seems +to us also that this system moves in space as a whole when the body is +displaced, continuing to remain united as long as it exists. We look +upon it as though it were separated from all other bodies, whether of +the same or of different kinds, in such a manner that it excludes others +from the place it occupies, and is itself in turn excluded by them. One +body then, one physical person, one moral personality--that moral +personality which each one of us recognises and affirms by the +consciousness of the ego. + +And in fact when I walk I am not a different person from when I think. +My ego remains the same whether my body moves through space or whether +my mind inwardly meditates. Impenetrability, which is possessed by +matter, seems to be also a property of human individualism. + +From my ego every other ego is apparently excluded. What I am no one +else can be, and I in turn cannot be confused with another person. Those +of my fellow beings that are most intimately, most closely related to me +seem yet as completely external to me, as thoroughly sundered from my +spirit, as their bodies are from mine. My father, my brother are dead. +They have vanished from this world in which I nevertheless continue to +exist; just as a stone remains in its place and is in no way affected +when another stone near by is removed; or as a mutilated pedestal may +still remain to remind the onlooker of the statue that was torn away. + +Hundreds of individuals assemble to listen to the words of an orator. +But no necessary ties exist between the various persons; and when the +speaking is over, each one goes his way confident that he has lost no +part of himself and that he has maintained his individuality absolutely +unaltered. + +Our elders lived on this planet when we had not yet arrived. After we +came, they gradually withdrew, one after the other. And just as they had +been able to exist without us, so shall we continue to live without +them, and away from them develop our personality. For each one of us, +according to this point of view, has his own being within himself, his +own particular destiny. Every man makes of himself the centre of his +world, of that universe which he has created with deeds and thoughts: a +universe of ideas, of images, of concepts, of systems, which are all in +his brain; a universe of values, of desirable goods and of abhorred +evils, all of which are rooted in his own individual will, in his +character, and originate from the peculiar manner in which he personally +colours this world and conceives the universe. + +What is another man's sorrow to me? What part have I in his joys? And +how can the science of Aristotle or of Galileo be anything to me, since +I do not know them, since I cannot read their books, and am totally +unfamiliar with their teachings? And the unknown wayfarer who passes by, +wrapped in his thoughts, what does he care for my loftiest conceptions, +for the songs that well forth from the depths of my soul? The hero's +exploit brings no glory to us; the heinous deed of the criminal makes us +shudder indeed, but drives no pangs of remorse through our conscience. +For every one of us has his own body and his own particular soul. Every +one, in short, is himself independently of what others may be. + +This conception, which we ordinarily form of our personality, and on +which we erect the system of our practical life in all our manifold +relations with other individuals, is an abstract concept. For when we +thus conceive our being, we see but a single side of it and that the +least important: we fail to grasp that part which reveals all that is +spiritual, and human, and truly and peculiarly ours. I shall not here +investigate how the human personality has two aspects so totally +different one from the other; and in what remote depths we must +search for the common root of these two contrasting and apparently +contradictory manifestations. Our task for the moment is to establish +within ourselves through reflection the firm conviction that we are +not lone individualities: that there is another and a better part of +us, an element which is the very antithesis of the particular, that +one, namely, which is the deep-seated source of our nature, by which +we cease, each one of us, to be in irreducible opposition to the rest of +humanity, and become instead what all the others are or what we want +them to be. + +In order to fix our attention on this more profound aspect of our inner +life, I shall take as an example one of those elements which are +contained in the concept of nationality, Language. Language it must be +remembered does not belong _per se_ to nationality; it belongs to it in +virtue of an act by which a will, a personality, affirms itself with a +determined content. We must now point out the abstract character of +that concept by which language, which is a constituent element of our +personality, is usually ascribed to what is merely particular in it. + +That language is a peculiar and constituent element of personality is +quite obvious. Through language we speak not to others only, but to +ourselves also. Speaking to ourselves means seeing within ourselves +our own ideas, our soul, our very self in short,--it means +self-consciousness, as the philosophers say, and therefore +self-control, clear vision of our acts, knowledge of what stirs within +us; it means, therefore, living not after the manner of dumb +animals, but as rational beings, as men. Man cannot think, have +consciousness of himself, reason, without first expressing all that to +himself. Man has been defined as a rational animal; he may also be +defined as the speaking animal. The remark is as old as Aristotle. + +Man, however, this animal endowed with the faculty of speaking, is not +man in general who never was, but the real man, the historical man, +actually existing. And he does not speak a general language, but a +certain definite one. + +When I speak before a public, I can but use my language, the Italian +language. And I exist, that is I affirm myself, I come into real being, +by thinking in conformity with my real personality, in so far as I +speak, and speak this language of mine. _My_ language, the _Italian_ +language. Here lies the problem. Were I not to speak, or were I to +speak otherwise than I know how, I would not be myself. This manner of +expressing myself is then an intrinsic trait of my personality. But this +speech which makes me what I am, and which therefore intimately belongs +to me, could it possibly be mine, could I use it, mould it into my own +life-substance, if, mine though it be, it were yet enclosed within me in +the manner that every particle of my flesh is contained within my body, +having nothing in common with any other part of matter co-existing in +space? Could my language in short really be my language, if it belonged +exclusively to me, to what I have called my particular or empirical +personality? + +A simple reflection will suffice to show that my language, like a beacon +of light, inwardly illumines my Thought, and renders visible to me every +movement and every sense, only because this language is not exclusively +my own. It is that same language through which I grasp the ancient +authors of Italy. I read about Francesca da Rimini and Count Ugolino, +and find them within me in the emotion of my throbbing soul. I read of +Petrarch's golden-haired Laura, of Ariosto's Angelica, fair love of +chivalrous men and the unhappy friend of youthful Medoro. I read of the +cunning art whereby the Florentine secretary, in his keen speculative +discourses, sought to establish the principalities and the state of +Italy. I read of the many loves, sorrows, discoveries and sublime +concepts which did not blossom forth from my spirit, but which, once +expressed by the great men of my country, have, because of their merits, +continued to exist in the imagination, in the intellect, in the hearts +of Italians, and have thus constituted a literature, a light-shedding +history which is the life of language, varied indeed and restless, but +ever the same. This is the language which I first heard from the dear +lips of my mother, which gradually and constantly I made my own by +studying and reflecting on the books and on the conversations of those +who for years, or days, or instants, were with me in my native town and +exchanged with me their thoughts and their sentiments; the language +which unites to me all those who, living or dead, together constitute +this which I call and feel to be my own people. + +Yet I might want to break away with my speech from this glorious +communion. I might try to demonstrate to myself that my speech is +exclusively mine, and surely I would thus accomplish something. I would +produce an exception which in this case too would serve to confirm the +rule. + +For surely a man may devise a cryptic language, a cipher, a jargon. +Secret codes and conventional cants are resorted to by individuals who +have some reason to conceal their meaning from others. Such individuals, +however, can form but very small groups, and because of the artificial +character of their communications never may constitute a nation. An +artificial jargon of this sort is however a language of some kind: it +must be, since art imitates nature. It complies with the law that is +immanent in the peculiar nature of language, namely, that there be +nothing secret or hidden in it, for speech and in general every form of +spiritual activity invests a community and aims at universality. The +jargon is possible only because of the key by which it may be translated +back into the common language. Give a ciphered document to the +cryptographer; by study and ingenuity--that is by the use of that very +intelligence which arbitrarily combined the cipher--he discovers the +key; thus he too breaks up the artificial form, and draws from it the +natural flow of a speech that is intelligible to all those who speak the +same national tongue. And again, words as they flow from the inspired +bosom of the poet, when they first appear in the freshness of the new +artistic creation, do have something that is cryptic. That language is +the poet's own; it never had been used by another; a jargon before it is +deciphered may be and is the language of a particular personality. But +if we look more attentively, we shall see that in both cases the +language is the language of the community. The inspired poet does indeed +speak to himself, but with the consciousness of a potential audience, he +utters a word to himself which must eventually be intelligible to others +because it is by its nature intelligible. In the conditions in which the +poet finds himself when speaking, he must use that word and no other, +and any other person in those same spiritual conditions would use, could +not help using, the same word. For his word is the Word, the one that is +required by the circumstances. And since he is a poet, a serious mind +uttering a word which needs no translation, it will be the word of his +own people first and then of humanity at large, in so far as its beauty +will inspire men of different nations and of diverse speech with the +desire of learning the poet's own intimate language. + +All this is true because the spirit is universal activity, which, far +from separating men, unites them. It realises historically its +universality in the community of the family, of the city, of the +district, and of the nation, and in every form of intimate aggregation +and of fusion which history may call into being. + +Language may or may not be in the formation of a man's nationality. What +however must be ever present is the Will by which man every moment of +his life renovates his own personality. Can the Will, by which each one +of us is what he is, be his own Will, exclusively his own? Or is the +Will itself, like language, not perhaps a national heirloom, but surely +a common act, a communion of life, in such a way that we live our own +life while living the life of the nation? + +Of course, in the abstract, as I have explained above, my will is +particular. But we must be reminded that Will is one thing, and +faint wishing another. There is such a thing as real effective +volition, and there is something which strives to be such and fails; +this latter we might call "velleity." Real will does not rest +satisfied with intentions, designs, or sterile desires; it acts, and +by its effectiveness it reveals itself, and by its value shows its +reality. And our being results not from velleities but from the real +will. We are not what we might conditionally desire to be, but what we +actually will to be. A velleity we might say is the will directed to +an end which is either relatively or absolutely impossible; will is +that which becomes effective. + +But, then, when is it that my will really is effective, really +_wills_? I am a citizen of a state which has power; this power, this +will of the state expresses itself to me in laws which I must obey. The +transgression of laws, if the state is in existence, bears with it the +inevitable punishment of the transgressor, that is, the application of +that law which the offender has refused to recognise. The state is +supported by the inviolability of laws, of those sacred laws of the +land which Socrates, as Plato tells us, taught his pupils to revere. I, +then, as a citizen of my country, am bound by its Law in such a +manner that to will its transgression is to aim at the impossible. +If I did so, I should be indulging in vain velleities, in which my +personality, far from realising itself, would on the contrary be +disintegrated and scattered. I then want what the law wants me to +will. + +It makes no difference that, from a material and explicit point of view, +a system of positive law does not coincide throughout with the sphere of +my activity, and that therefore the major part of the standards of my +conduct must be determined by the inner dictates of my particular +conscience. For it is the Will of the State that determines the limits +between the moral and the juridical, between what is imposed by the law +of the land and what is demanded by the ethical conscience of the +individual. And there is no limit which pre-exists to the line by which +the constituent and legislative power of the State delimits the sphere +subject to its sanctions. So that positively or negatively, either by +command or by permission, our whole conduct is subject to that will by +which the State establishes its reality. + +But the Will of the State does not manifest itself solely by the +enactments of positive legislation. It opens to private initiative such +courses of action as may presumably be carried on satisfactorily without +the impulse and the direct control of the sovereign power. But this +concession has a temporary character, and the State is ever ready to +intervene as soon as the private management ceases to be effective. So +that even in the exercise of what seems the untrammelled will of the +individual we discern the power of the State; and the individual is free +to will something only because the sovereign power wants him to. So +that in reality this apparently autonomous particular will is the will +of the state not expressed in terms of positive legislation, there being +no need of such an expression. But since the essence of law is not in +the expression of it, but in the will which dictates it, or observes it, +or enforces the observance of it, in the will, in short, that wills it, +it follows that the law exists even though unwritten. + +In the way of conclusion, then, it may be said that I, as a citizen, +have indeed a will of my own; but that upon further investigation my +will is found to coincide exactly with the will of the State, and I want +anything only in so far as the State wants me to want it. + +Could it possibly be otherwise? Such an hypothesis overwhelms me at the +very thought of it. For it would come to this,--that I exist and my +state does not:--the state in which I was born, which sustained and +protected me before I saw the light of day, which formed and guaranteed +to me this communion of life; the state in which I have always lived, +which has constituted this spiritual substance, this world in which I +support myself, and which I trust will never fail me even though it does +change constantly. I could, it is true, ignore this close bond by which +I am tied and united to that great will which is the will of my country. +I might balk and refuse to obey its laws. But acting thus, I would be +indulging in what I have called velleities. My personality, unable to +transform the will of the state, would be overcome and suppressed by +it. + +Let us however assume for a moment that I might in the innermost depths +of my being segregate myself. Averse to the common will and to the law +of the land, I decide to proclaim over the boundless expanse of my +thought the proud independence of my ego, as a lone, inaccessible summit +rising out of the solitude. Up to a certain point this hypothesis is +verified constantly by the manner in which my personality freely becomes +actual. But even then I do not act as a particular being: it is the +universal power that acts through my personal will. + +For when we effectively observe the law, with true moral adhesion and +in thorough sincerity, the law becomes part of ourselves, and our +actions are the direct results of our convictions,--of the necessity of +our convictions. For every time we act, inwardly we see that such must +be our course; we must have a clear intuition of this necessity. The +Saint who has no will but the will of God intuitively sees necessity in +his norm. So does the sinner in his own way: but his norm is erroneous +and therefore destined to fail. Every criminal in transgressing the +law obeys a precept of his own making which is in opposition to the +enactments of the state. And in so doing he creates almost a state +of his own, different from the one which historically exists and must +exist because of certain good reasons, the excellence of which the +criminal himself will subsequently realise. From the unfortunate point +of view which he has taken, the transgressor is justified in acting as +he does, and to such an extent that no one in his position, as he +thinks, could possibly take exception to it. His will is also +universal; if he were allowed to, if it were possible for him, he +would establish new laws in place of the old ones: he would set up +another state over the ruins of the one which he undermines. And what +else does the tyrant when he destroys the freedom of the land and +substitutes a new state for the crushed Commonwealth? In the same +manner the rebel does away with the despot, starts a revolution and +establishes liberty if he is successful; if not, he is overcome and must +again conform his will to the will of that state which he has not been +able to overthrow. So then, I exercise my true volition whenever the +will of my state acts in my personal will, or rather when my will is +the realisation of the will of a super-national group in which my state +co-exists with other states, acting upon them, and being re-acted upon +in reciprocal determinations. Or perhaps better still, when the +entire world wills in me. For my will, I shall say it once again, is +not individual but universal, and in the political community by which +individuals are united into a higher individuality, historically +distinct from other similar ones, we must see a form of universality. + +For this reason, then, we are justified in saying that our personality +is particular when we consider it abstractly, but that concretely it +realises itself as a universal and therefore also as a national +personality. This conception is of fundamental importance for those of +us who live in the class-room and have made of teaching our life's +occupation, our ultimate end, and the real purpose of our existence. For +in this conception of human activities we find the solution of a problem +that has been present in the minds of thinking men ever since they began +to reflect on the subject of education, or, in other words, from time +immemorial. Education, we must remember, is not a fact, if by fact we +mean, as we should, something that has happened, or is wont to happen, +or must inevitably take place in virtue of the constancy of the law +which governs it. We teachers are all sincerely convinced that +education, as we speak of it, as it draws our interests, for which we +work, and which we strive to improve, is not now what it was before. For +there is no education that works out in conformity with natural laws. It +is a free act of ours, the vocation of our souls, our duty as men. By it +more nobly than by any other action man is enabled to actualise his +superior nature. Animals do not educate: even though they do raise their +young ones they yet form no family, no ethical organism with members +differentiated and reciprocally correlated. But we freely, by an act of +our conscience, recognise our children, as we do our parents and our +brothers; and we discern our fellow-beings in ourselves and ourselves in +others; and by the growth of our own we unconsciously develop the +personality of others; and therefore in the family, in the city, in any +community, we constitute one spirit, with common needs that are +satisfied by the operations of individual activity which is a social +activity. + +Man has been called a political or a social animal. He might therefore +be considered also as an educating animal. For we do not merely educate +the young ones, our young ones. Education being spiritual action bearing +on the spirit, we really educate all those that are in any way and by +any relations whatsoever connected with us, whether or not they belong +to our family or to our school, as long as they concur with us in +constituting a complete social entity. And we not only train those of +minor age, who are as yet under tutelage, and still frequent the schools +and are busily intent upon developing and improving their skill, their +character, their culture. We also educate the adults, the grown-up men +and women, the aged; for there is no man alive who does not daily add to +his intellectual equipment, who does not derive some advantage from his +human associations, who could not appropriately repeat the statement of +the Roman emperor--_nulla dies sine linea_. Man always educates. + +But here, as in every other manifestation of his spiritual activity, man +does not behave in sole conformity with instinct; he does not teach by +abandoning himself, so to speak, to the force of natural determinism. He +is fully aware of his own doings. He keeps his eyes open on his own +function, so that he may attain the end by the shortest course, that he +may without wasting his energies derive from them the best possible +results. For man reflects. + +It is evident then that education is not a scheme which permits +pedagogues and pedants to interfere with their theories and lucubrations +in this sacred task of love, which binds the parents to the children, +brings old and young together, and keeps mankind united in its never +ceasing ascent. Before the word came into being, the thing, as is +usually the case, already existed. Before there was a science and an +incumbent for the chair, there existed something that was the life of +this science and therefore the justification of the chair. There was the +intent reflectiveness of man, who in compliance with the divine saying, +"Know thyself," was becoming conscious of his own work, and therefore, +unwilling to abandon his actions to external impulses, began to question +everything. What the lower animal does naturally and unerringly through +its infallible instinct, man achieves by the restless scrutiny of his +mind. Ever thoughtful, always yearning for the better, he searches and +explores, often stumbling in error, but ever rising out of it to a +higher station of learning and of art. Our education is human, because +it is an action and not a fact; because it is a problem that we always +solve and have to keep solving for ever. + +This intuitive truth is demonstrated experimentally to us by the very +lives we live as educators. As long as the freshness of our vocation +lasts, as long as we can remain free from mechanical routine and from +the impositions of fixed habits; as long as we are able to consider +every new pupil with renewed interest, discover in him a different soul, +unlike that of any other that we have previously come in contact with, +and differing within itself from day to day; as long as it is still +possible for us to enter the class-room thrilled and throbbing in the +anticipation of new truths to reveal, of novel experiments to perform, +of unexpected difficulties to overcome, in the full consciousness of the +rapid motion of a life ever renewed in us and around us by the incoming +generations, that flow to us and ebb away unceasingly towards life and +death; so long shall we really live and love the teacher's life, so long +shall we demonstrate to ourselves and to others the truth I have already +affirmed. + +We teachers should be constantly on our guard against the dangers of +routine, against the belief that we have but to repeat the same old +story in the same class-room, to the same kind of distant, blank faces, +staring at us in dreary uniformity from the same benches. We shall +continue to be educators only as long as we are able to feel that every +instant of our life's work is a new instant, and that education +therefore is a problem that insistently stimulates our ingenuity to an +ever renewed solution. + +Now the most important of all tasks, ancient and modern, in the field of +education is this,--the task of the teacher to represent the Universal +to his pupils, the Universal, of course, as historically determined. +Scientific thought, customs, laws, religious beliefs are brought before +the pupil's mind, not as the science, the laws, the religion of the +teacher, but as those of humanity, of his country, of his period. And +the pupil is the particular individual who, having entered upon the +process of education, and being submitted, so to speak, to the yoke of +the school, ceases to enjoy his former liberty in the pursuit of a +spiritual endowment and in the formation of his character, and, in +consequence of this educational pressure, bends compliantly before the +common law. Hence the world-old opposition to the coercive power of the +school, and the outcry raised from time to time against the privilege +demanded by the educator, who on the strength of the assumedly higher +quality of his beliefs, his learning, his taste, or his moral +conscience, claims to interfere with the spontaneous development of a +personality in quest of itself. + +On one side education undoubtedly assumes the task of developing +freedom, for the aim of education is to produce men; and man is worthy +of this name only when he is a master of himself, capable of initiating +his own acts, responsible for his deeds, able to discern and assimilate +the ideas which he accepts and professes, affirms and propagates, so +that whatever he says, thinks, or does, really comes from him. Our +children are said to be properly raised when they give evidence of being +able to take care of themselves without the help of our guidance and +advice. And we trust that we have accomplished our task as educators +when our pupils have made our language their own and are able to tell us +new things originally thought out by them. Freedom then must be the +result of education. + +But on the other hand, teaching implies an action exercised on another +mind, and education cannot therefore result in the relinquishment and +abandonment of the pupil. The educator must awaken interests that +without him would for ever lie dormant. He must direct the learner +towards an end which he would be unable to estimate properly if left +alone, and must help him to overcome the otherwise unsurmountable +obstacles that beset his progress. He must, in short, transfuse into the +pupil something of himself, and out of his own spiritual substance +create elements of the pupil's character, mind, and will. But the acts +which the pupil performs in consequence of his training will, in a +certain measure, be those of his teacher; and education will therefore +have proved destructive of that very liberty with which the pupil was +originally endowed. Is it not true that people constantly attribute to +early family influences and to environment--that is, to education--the +good and the bad in the deeds of the mature man? + +This is the form in which the problem usually presents itself. The mind +of the educator is therefore torn by two conflicting forces: the desire +zealously to watch and control the pupil's growth and direct his +evolution along the course that seems quickest and surest for his +complete development; and, on the other hand, the fear that he may kill +fertile seeds, stifle with presumptuous interference the spontaneous +life of the spirit in its personal impulses, and clothe the individual +with a garment that is not adapted for him,--crush him under the weight +of a leaden cape. + +The solution of this problem must be sought in the concrete conception +of individual personality; and this will be the theme of the next +chapter. But I must at the very outset utter an emphatic word of +warning. My solution does not remove all difficulties; it cannot be used +as a key to open all doors. For as I have repeatedly stated, the value +of education consists in the persistence of the problems, ever solved +and yet ever clamouring for a new solution, so that we may never feel +released from the obligation of thinking. + +My solution must be simply accepted as affording a guidance by which +different people may, along more or less converging lines, approach +their particular objectives. For the problem presents itself under +ever-changing forms, and demands a continuous development, and almost a +progressive interpretation of the concept which I am going to offer as +an aid to its solution. No effort of thinking, once completed, will ever +exonerate us from thinking, from thinking unceasingly, from thinking +more and more intensively. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE FUNDAMENTAL ANTIMONY OF EDUCATION + + +A more precise determination must now be given to the problem, touched +upon in the preceding chapter, which might be called the _fundamental +antinomy of education_, understanding by "antinomy" the conflict of two +contradictory affirmations, either one of which appears to be true and +irrefutable. + +The two contradictory affirmations are (1) that man as the object of +education is and must be free, and (2) that education denies man's +freedom. They might perhaps be better re-stated in this way: (1) +Education presupposes freedom in man and strives to increase it. (2) +Education treats man by ignoring the freedom he may originally be +endowed with, and acts in such a way as to strip him entirely of it. + +Each of the two propositions must be taken, not as an approximate +affirmation, but as an exact enunciation of an irrefutable truth. +Therefore freedom here means full and absolute liberty; and when we +speak of the negation of freedom, we mean that education as such, and as +far as it is carried, destroys the freedom of the pupil. + +Let us first see precisely what is meant by this _freedom_ which we +attribute to man. Each one of us firmly even though obscurely possesses +some conception of it. Every one of us, even though unfamiliar with the +controversies that have raged for centuries on the question of free +will, must have sometimes been compelled by the conditions of human life +to face the difficulties that beset the concept of man's freedom, and +must have been led to question, if not to deny outright, the proposition +that man is free. But on the other hand, every one of us has to admit +that the experience of life has confirmed the belief in our freedom +which for a moment had been shaken by doubt and perplexity; and that +faith, instinctive and incoercible, outlives every time the onslaughts +of negation. + +By liberty we mean that power peculiar to man by which he moulds himself +into his actual being and originates the series of facts in which every +one of his actions becomes manifest. In nature, all facts, or, as they +are called, all phenomena appear to us to be so interrelated as to +constitute a universal system in which no phenomenon can ever be +considered as absolutely beginning, but can in each case be traced back +to a preceding phenomenon as its cause, or at any rate as the condition +of its intelligibility. The condensation of the aqueous vapour in the +cloud produces rain; but vapour would not condense without the action +of temperature, nor again would temperature be lowered without the +concurrence of certain meteorological facts which modify it, etc. + +But we believe on the other hand that man derives from no one but +himself the principles and the causes of his actions. So that whenever +we see in his conduct the necessary effects of causes that have acted on +his character or momentarily on his will, we cease to consider such acts +as partaking of that moral value through which man's conduct is really +human and completely sundered from the instinctive impulses of the lower +animal, and even more so from the behaviour of the forces of inanimate +matter. + +We may in certain moments deny a man's humanity, and see in his conduct +only brutal impulse, fierce cruelty, and unreasoning bestiality. In such +moments we cannot stop either to praise or to blame him. We do not even +strive to reason with him, for we feel that arguments would produce no +impression on his obdurate consciousness. Only through force can we +defend ourselves from his violence; against him we must use the same +weapon that we rely upon in our struggle with the wild beasts and the +blind forces of nature. We then become aware that our soul refuses to +recognise such an individual as a man. We esteem man to be such only +when we believe that we can influence him by words, by arguments that +are directed to reason, which is the birthright of man, and when we are +able to prevail upon those sentiments of his which, as peculiarly human, +appear to be almost the foundation and the understructure of rational +activity. This reason and these sentiments it must be remembered are the +peculiar constituents of human personality. They cannot be imparted to +man from the outside. They are in him from the very start even if only +as germs which he must himself cultivate, and which will, when +developed, enable him to act consciously, that is, with full knowledge +of his acts. This knowledge is twofold, for he knows what he is doing, +and he knows also how his actions must be judged. And so all the causes +that bear on him are practically of no weight in determining a course +which he will take, if he is a man, only after the approval of his own +judgment. What is more natural than to avenge an insult, and to harbour +hatred against an enemy? And yet from the viewpoint of morals, man is +worthy of this name only in so far as he is able to resist his +overpowering passions and to release himself from that force which +compels him to offset harm with more harm, and meet hatred with hatred. +He must pardon; he must love the enemy who harms him. Only when a man is +capable of understanding the beauty of this pardon and of such love, +only when, attracted by their beauty, he acts no longer in compliance +with the force of instinctive nature, does he cease to count as a purely +natural being, and lift himself to a higher level into that moral world +where he must progressively exhibit his human activities. Whether man is +equal to this task or not, we must demand that he satisfy this +requirement before we admit him into the society of mankind. He must +have in himself the strength to withstand the pressure of external +forces which may act on his will, on his personality, on that inner +centre from which his personality moves towards us, speaks to us, and +thus affirms its existence. We make these demands on him; and as we +extol him when by his deeds he shows sufficient capacity for his human +role, so we also blame him every time we find him through weakness +yielding to these forces. And the import of our blame is that he is +responsible for not having the power which he should have had. + +It is of no importance that out of compassion, or through sympathy +for human frailty, we lighten or even entirely remove the burden of our +censure. Our disapproval of the deficiency, even though unexpressed, +remains within us side by side with the conviction that the delinquent +may do a great deal, nay, must, aided by us in the future, do +everything in his power to meet successfully the opposing forces of +evil. We surely cannot abandon the unfortunate wretch who through +moral impotence--whether it be the craven submissiveness of the +coward, or the undaunted violence of the overbearing brute--commits an +evil deed. We feel it our duty to watch over him and help him on +the road to redemption, because of our firm conviction that he will +eventually redeem himself; for he is after all a man like the rest of +us, and possesses therefore within himself the source and principle +of a life which will raise him from the slough in which he lies +immersed. + +There is, however, a pseudo-science which, on the basis of superficial +and inaccurate observations, dogmatically asserts that certain forms of +criminality give evidence of original and irremediable moral depravity; +and that therefore persons tainted with it are fatally condemned never +to heed sufficiently the voice of duty and ever to yield to their +perverted instinct, which presses unrestrained from the depths of their +being at the slightest provocation and on the occasion of the most +insignificant clash with other human beings. + +This is the doctrine of the modern school of criminal anthropology which +has spread throughout the world the fame of some Italian writers. Though +their influence is now on the wane, their observations on the +pathological nature of criminal acts have contributed to establish the +need of a more humane treatment of offenders,--more humane because +rational and effective. + +Their doctrine falls in with a series of systems which at all times, and +always for materialistic motives,--materialistic even though disguised +under religious and theological robes,--have denied to man that power +which we call liberty, compelling him therefore to bend down under the +stress of universal determinism, and to behave as the drop that forever +moves with the motion of the boundless ocean, an insignificant particle +of the entire watery mass. What force intrinsic to this drop could ever +stop it on the crest of the wave which hurls it forward? Man, they say, +is no different from this drop: from the time of his birth to the +instant of his death, hemmed in by all the beings of nature, acted upon +by innumerable concurrent causes, he is pushed and dragged at every +moment by the irresistible current of all the forces of the entire mass +of the universe. At times he may delude himself into believing that he +has lifted his consciousness out of the huge flood, that it is within +his power to resist, to stop it as far as he is concerned, and to +control it; that, in short, it rests with him to fashion his own +destiny. But alas! this very belief, this illusion is the determined +result of the forces acting upon him: it is the inevitable effect of the +play of his representations,--representations which have not their +origin in him, but have been impressed upon him by outside forces. So +that the illusion of independence is but a mocking confirmation of the +impossibility of escaping the rush of fatal currents. + +I shall not here give a critical presentation of the arguments by which +systems such as these have established the absence of freedom in man. +In our present need, a single remark will suffice, and will permit us, +I believe, to cut the discussion short. A great German philosopher, +who had conceived science and reality, which is the object of +science, in such a way as to preclude the possibility of finding in +reality a place for man's freedom, noticed that freedom, in spite of all +the difficulties which science encounters in accounting for it, +corresponds and answers to an invincible certitude in our soul, +invincible because a postulate of our moral conscience. That is to +say, that whatever our scientific theories and ideas, we have a +conscience which imposes a law upon us,--a law which, though not +promulgated and sustained by any external force, or rather because of +it, compels us in a manner which is absolute. This law is the moral +law. It requires no speculative demonstration. The scrutiny of +philosophers might not be helpful to it. It rises spontaneously and +naturally from the intimate recesses of our spirit; and it demands from +our will, from the will of the most uncouth man, an unconditional +respect. What sense would there be in the word duty, if man were able to +do only those things which his own nature, or worse still, nature in +general, compelled him to do? The existence of duty implies a power to +fulfil it. And the certitude of our moral obligations rests on the +conviction that we have within us the power to meet them. We can +answer the call of duty because we are free. + +This consideration, important as it is, cannot however be considered as +sufficient. For this moral conscience, this certitude with which the +moral conscience affirms the existence of an unavoidable duty, might +also be an illusion determined in us by natural causes. Nothing hinders +us from thinking thus, and surely there is no contradiction implied in +this explanation, which in fact because of its possibilities is offered +by the philosophers of materialism. + +But the need of liberty is not solely felt when we strive to conceive +our moral obligations; freedom is not only the ground for existence, the +_raison d'etre_ of moral law, as Kant thought--for he is the philosopher +to whom I alluded above;--no! freedom is the condition of the entire +life of the spirit. And the materialist who, having destroyed liberty as +a condition of moral conduct, believes that he is still able to think, +that his intellectual activity can proceed undisturbed after his faith +in the objective value and in the reality of moral laws has been +abandoned, such a materialistic thinker is totally mistaken. For without +freedom, man not only is unable to speak of duty, but he cannot speak at +all,--not even of his materialistic views. This is the same as saying +that the negation of liberty is unthinkable. + +A brief reflection will make this clearer. We speak to others or to +ourselves in so far as we think, or say something or make affirmations. +Let us suppose that ideas be present to our minds (as people have +sometimes imagined) without our looking at them, without our noticing +them. Such ideas would have offered themselves in vain, in the same way +that many material objects remain unseen before us, because we do not +turn our gaze toward them. Every object of the mind, that is, every +thought, can only be thought because in addition to it we too are in the +mind: our mental activity is there, the ego of the thinking man, the +subject which is ready to affirm the object. And thought proper consists +in this affirmation of the object by the subject. Now, the subject, that +is, man, must be as free in the affirmation of his thought, by which he +thinks something, as he must be free in every one of his actions in +order that his action be truly his, and really human. In fact, we demand +of man that he give an account of his thoughts as well as of his deeds. +We evaluate not only what he does, but also what he thinks; we praise +him or we disapprove of him because of his sayings, that is, his +thoughts, and we call upon him to correct those thoughts which he should +not entertain. In this way we indicate our conviction that the thought +of each one of us is not simply a logical consequence of its premises, +not an effect determined by a psychic mechanism set in motion by the +universal mechanism of which our individual psyche is a part; we are +convinced that thought depends upon man, upon his capacity, upon his +personality, which is not controlled by any mechanical forces, nor +subject to premises which he may no longer modify once he has accepted +them. We are the masters of our thinking; and if the vigour of the human +personality is indeed shown by the steadfast constancy whereby in +practical life we pursue a hard and toilsome course toward an arduous +goal, it is revealed just as much by the quickness, the readiness, the +assiduousness, the lack of prejudice, the love which we manifest in our +search after truth. + +It has therefore been said that cognition in man has moral value, and +that on the other hand the will is operative in the act of the +intellect. Such distinctions are dangerous. But whether we call it will +or intellect, the activity which makes us what we are, by which we +actualise our personality, also by thinking, it is certain that it is a +conscious and discriminating activity, through no force of gravity +precipitating on its object, but approaching it with selective freedom +of determination. And in the manner that every action aims at the good, +because it seems good, and appears in contrast with evil, so every +cognition is the affirmation of what to us is or seems to be a truth in +opposition to error and falseness. Without the antithesis of good to +evil there would be no moral action: without the antithesis of the true +to the false there would be no cognition. But the existence of this +antithesis implies a choice and therefore the liberty of choosing. + +Should we deny freedom, and consequently abandon man to the determinism +of the causes acting upon him, we should deny the possibility of +distinguishing between good and evil, between true and false. The +materialist, therefore, when he rejects freedom, is compelled to affirm +that the value which moral conscience attributes to goodness is devoid +of any real grounds, and what is worse, that his very statement is +thereby stripped of all the value of truth. For he must be inwardly +convinced that what he thinks has no reason to be thought and therefore +cannot be thought. + +The negation of freedom leads to this _absurdum_, to this impossible +thought, which is the Thought that is being thought as such, and yet +does not admit of being thought. Man, in so far as he thinks, affirms +his faith in freedom, and every attempt on his part to uproot this faith +from his soul is but a glaring confirmation of its existence. This +observation, properly grasped, is sufficient to establish human freedom +on a solid ground. + +Freedom, moreover, which man needs in order to be human, cannot be, as +some have supposed, a relative liberty, limited and restricted by +certain conditions, for conditional liberty does not differ from +slavery. Here indeed is the very crux of the problem. Every one would +readily admit the existence of a limited freedom, and the divergence +would then be reduced to a question of degree. But the fact is that +freedom must be absolute or not be at all. Matter, that is, every +material object, is not free for the very reason that it is limited; +whereas the spirit--every spiritual act--is free because it is infinite, +and as such not relative to any thing, and therefore absolute. + +Any limitation of the spirit would annihilate its liberty. The slave is +such because his will is constrained within the bounds imposed upon it +by the master's volition. The human spirit is not free in the presence +of nature because nature envelops it and enfolds it within narrow +confines, which allow only a certain development; and this development +therefore cannot be looked upon as a grant of nature but rather as a +condemnation, in that it marks out boundaries which cannot be +trespassed. The lower animal is not free because even if its actions +seem to imply a rationality not very different from that of man, yet in +reality its acts, differently from the doings of man, follow the +straight line pre-established by instinct, which admits of no original +power and allows no individual creation. If there is a limit, there must +be something limiting and something limited; there must be a necessary +relationship of one to the other, so that the thing limited can in no +way free itself from the consequences of this relationship. These +consequences are summed up in the impossibility of _being all_, or in +other words in the necessity of remaining within limits, and to obey +therefore the untransgressable laws set by one's own nature. This +necessity which binds every natural being to the laws of its own nature, +this impossibility of being aught else than what is appointed by nature, +to be a wolf of necessity, and of necessity to be a lamb; this is the +hard lot of natural beings, this is the destiny from which man is +ransomed by the power of his freedom. + +The sculptor in the fervour of his inspiration, which proceeds from the +image that lives in his phantasy, searches eagerly for the marble with +which, as though from the very bosom of nature, he may call to life the +phantom of his mind. He fails in his search, and his chisel remains, +must need remain, inactive. The artist then in the utmost intensity of +his creation is baffled by an external impediment, by an obstacle of +nature which therefore seems to have the power of limiting his creative +power. But when we consider what the artist has created in the statue +itself, in this living image of marble, we find nothing that is +material. The artist has transfused into the stone an idea, a sentiment, +a soul, which we, under the influence of the ravishing power of artistic +beauty, are able to seize to the exclusion of all material attributes; +as though we no longer possessed eyes for the whiteness of the marble +and were deprived of the muscle which gives us the impression of its +physical weight. When we are able thus to spiritualise the statue--and +we do so every time we get to know it as a work of art--then all +limitations that might be imposed on the creative power of the artist +disappear. For we see no longer the artist's phantasy, and then his arm, +and then his hand, his chisel, the block which he is carving; all we see +is the phantasy soaring untrammelled in the infinite world of the +artist, with his arm, his hand, his marble, his universe which is +totally different from the universe in which the men live who quarry the +marble and move it and sell it. + +There is a point of view from which we see the spirit limited and +enslaved by the conditions in which its life is unfolded. But there is a +higher point of view to which we must ascend if we are bent on +discovering our freedom. If we say, as the psychologists do, this is a +soul and this is a body, here are sensations, there is motion, this is +thought within us and that is the world outside of us, then we are +obliged to consider the spirit as conditioned by physical happenings to +which in some manner our internal determinations correspond. It is not +possible to see without eyes and without the light that strikes them. It +is equally impossible not to see when we have eyes and are surrounded by +light, and according to the greater or lesser velocity of the luminous +waves, we shall of necessity discern now one colour and now another. And +the objects thus seen by us will determine our thoughts; and in turn our +volitions will depend upon these thoughts; and our characters will be +shaped accordingly, and we shall be this or that man in conformity with +the determination of circumstances. Man, according to this conception, +will be the result of time, of place, of environment, of everything +except of his own self. + +But there is a higher point of view than the one I have just described, +and to it we must rise, if we mean to understand our nature,--this +marvellous human nature which was first disclosed to our consciousness +at the advent of Christianity and in the course of time made more and +more manifest, until it now loudly proclaims in us our human dignity +exalted above the forces of nature, and is empowered by its cognitive +faculty to dominate these forces, which must bend to man's purposes +without ever blocking or obstructing his progress. Whosoever says: here +is a body and there is a soul--two things, one outside of the +other--such a man does not consider that these two things are two terms +distinguished and differentiated by thought in the bosom of thought, +that is to say, of the soul: of that soul which is truer than the other +for the obvious reason that the latter thinks and therefore reveals its +soul-nature by its own acts, whereas the former is the object of +thinking, is a thing thought, and may therefore be a fallacious entity, +an idolon, and a simple _ens rationis_, like so many other things that +are thought and are subsequently found to have no kind of subsistence. +In speaking of sensation and of motion which generates or somehow +conditions sensation, we lose sight of the fact that sensation is truly +enough a determination of consciousness, but in the same manner as the +motion which is encountered in consciousness when the latter, in +thinking, among other things thinks the displacement of objects in +space. + +For everything is within consciousness, and no way can be devised of +issuing forth from it. We say that the brain is external to +consciousness, and that the cranium encloses the brain, which in turn is +enveloped by space luminous and airy, space filled with beautiful plants +and beautiful animals; yet the fact remains that brain and skull and +everything else are the potential or actual object of our thinking +faculty, and cannot but remain therefore within that consciousness to +which for a moment we supposed them to be external. We may start +thinking, keeping in mind this indestructible substance of our thought; +and as we proceed from this centre in which we have placed ourselves as +subjects of thinking, and advance towards an ever-receding horizon, do +we ever come in sight of the point where we must pause and say: "Here my +thought ends; here something begins that is other than my thought"? +Thought halts only before mystery. But even then it thinks it as +mystery, and thinking it, transforms it, and then proceeds, and so never +really stops. + +Such being the true life of the spirit, rightly have we called it +universal. At every throb it soars through the infinite, without ever +encountering aught else than its own spiritual actualisations. In this +life, such as we see it from the interior when we do not fantastically +materialise it with our imaginations, the spirit is free because it is +infinite. + +Education then posits this liberty in the pupil, for it presupposes in +him a susceptibility of development,--educability, as we may call it. +The learner could not possibly be educable, that is, susceptible of +receiving instruction, unless he were able to think. But thinking, we +have already seen, signifies freedom. And not only is freedom +presupposed by the educator, but it is the very thing he is aiming at in +his work. As a result of his teaching, liberty must be developed in the +same manner that the capacity for thinking and all modes of spiritual +activity are developed. For the development of thought is a development +of reflection, a constant increase of control over our own ideas, over +the content of our consciousness, over our character, over our whole +being in relation to every other being. And this growth of power is what +we mean when we speak of the development of our freedom. It has been +said, in fact, that education consists in liberating the individual from +his instincts. Surely, education is the formation of man, and when we +say man we mean liberty. + +Here we stumble upon our antinomy. How are we to reconcile this +presupposition and this aim of the educator with his interference in the +personality of the pupil? This interposition surely signifies that the +disciple must not be left to himself and to his own resources; that he +has to clash with something or somebody that is not his own personality. +Education implies a dualism of terms, the teacher and the learner; and +it is this dualism which destroys the freedom, which sets a limit, and +therefore annihilates infinity in which freedom consists. The disciple +who encounters a stronger mastering will, an intellect equipped with a +multitude of ideas, with an experience which forestalls his own powers +of observation, and his innate zeal for investigation, sees in this more +potent personality either a barrier obstructing his progress towards a +goal which he spontaneously would attain; or else a goad which hurries +him along the way which he would have indeed chosen of his own accord, +but along which he would have liked to advance freely, calmly, joyously, +as our Vittorino da Feltre would have it, and without any unwelcome +compulsion. This pupil then would want to be left alone in order that he +might be free, as free as God when as yet the world was not and he +created it out of nothing by his joyous _fiat_, symbol of the loftiest +spiritual liberty. + +For these reasons we have come to believe that the most serious problem +of education is the agreement between the liberty of the pupil and the +authority of the teacher. Therefore great masters who meditated on the +subject of education, from Rousseau to Tolstoi, have exalted the rights +of liberty, but have fallen into the opposite extreme of denying the +duty to authority, and have pursued in their abstractions a vague and +unrealisable ideal of negative education. + +But we must not cling to negatives. It should be our purpose to +construct, not to destroy. The school, this glorious inheritance of +human experiences, this ever-glowing hearth where the human spirit +kindles and sublimates life as an object of constant criticism and of +undying love, may be transformed, but cannot be destroyed. Let the +school live, and let us cling to the teacher and maintain his authority, +which limits the spontaneity and the liberty of the pupil. For this +limitation is only apparent. + +Apparent, however, when we deal with true education. For the school has +for centuries been the victim of a grave injustice. People have been led +to consider the classroom as a place of confinement and of punishment, +and teachers have been cruelly lashed by the scourge of ridicule cracked +in the face of pedantry. Through this injustice, the school has been +burdened with faults that are not its own, and teachers, genuine +educators, have been confused with the pedantic drill-masters that are +the negation of intelligent education and of inspired ethical +discipline. In order to see whether education really limits the free +activity of the pupil, we must not consider abstractly any school, which +may not be after all a school. We must examine an institution at the +moment and in the act which realises its significance--when the +instructor teaches and the pupils are learning. Such a moment should at +least hypothetically be granted to exist. + +Let us take a concrete example and consider a teacher in the act of +giving lessons in Italian. Where is this something which I have called +the Italian language? In the grammar, perchance? Or in the dictionary? +Yes, partly. Provided grammar can invest its rules with the life of the +individual examples that together constitute the expressive power of the +living language; and provided the dictionary does not wither up all +words in the arid abstraction of alphabetical classification; does not +hang each of them by itself as limbs torn from the living body of the +speech in which they had so often resounded and to which they will be +joined again in the fulness of life and expressiveness; but does instead +incorporate, as every good dictionary should, complete phrases, living +utterances of great authors or perhaps of that nameless many-souled +writer that somewhat confusedly is called the people. + +But more than in the grammar and more than in the dictionary, the word +is and exists in the writers themselves. The teacher should there point +it out, as he guides his pupils through the authors who were able to +express most powerfully our common thoughts. To his students who are +striving to learn the language--that is the writers--he reads for +example the poems of Leopardi. The poet's word, his soul hovers over +the classroom, as the master reads. It penetrates into the minds of the +pupils, hushes every other sentiment, removes every other thought, and +throbs within them, stirs them, arouses them. It becomes one with the +soul of each pupil, which speaks to itself a language of its own, using, +truly enough, the words of Leopardi, but of a Leopardi who is peculiar +to each of the listeners. Under this spell, the pupil who hears the +poet's word echoing in the depths of his being, will he stop to reflect +that this word is the echo of an echo? That he is under the influence of +something repeated after a first utterance? Our own experience answers: +No! But if any of the audience become absent-minded, if they should lose +the rapt delight of poetical exaltation communicated to their soul by +the teacher's voice, and should say that the word they hear is not their +own but the master's, or rather, the poet's, then they would commit a +serious blunder. For the word they intently listen to in their soul is +their own, exclusively their own. Leopardi does not impart any poesy to +him who, through his love, his study, and the intensity of his feelings, +is unable to live his own poetry. And Leopardi (or the teacher who reads +him) is not materially external to the enraptured listener; he is his +own Leopardi, such as he has been able to create for himself. The +master, as St. Augustine long ago warned us, is within us. + +He is within us even if we see him in front of us, away from us seated +in his chair. For in so far as he is a real teacher, he is ever the +object of our consciousness, surrounded and uplifted in our spirit by +the reverence of our feelings and by our trustful affection. He is _our_ +teacher, he is our very soul. + +The dualism then is non-existent when we are educating. We do notice it +before, and we are thus brought to examine the antinomy; but the +difficulty is removed by the very act of education itself, by the first +word that comes to the pupils' ears from the lips of the teacher. The +dualism however cannot be resolved if the master's word fails to reach +the pupils' soul, but then under those circumstances there is no +education. But even in such cases, if the teacher is not sluggish, if he +displays a real spiritual power, the abiding existence of the barrier +between the two minds proves helpful to the spiritual growth of the +learner, who, because of his incoercible freedom, is impelled by the +insufficiency of the master to affirm his personality with increased +vigour. So that the school is a hearth of liberty, even in spite of the +intentions of the teacher. A school without freedom is a lifeless +institution. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +REALISM AND IDEALISM IN THE CONCEPT OF CULTURE + + +We found it necessary in the previous chapter to pass from the abstract +to the concrete in order to arrive at the truth. The universality of the +individual was made clear when for the empirical concept of the +individual, abstractly considered, we substituted the deeper and more +speculative one of the individual himself in the concreteness of his +relationships. In like manner, the fundamental antinomy of education was +resolved as soon as we replaced the abstract idea of the dualism of +teacher and pupil, by the idea of their intrinsic, profound, unseverable +unity as it gradually works out and is actualised in the process of +education. We were enabled therefore to conclude that the real teacher +is within the soul of the pupil, or, better still, the teacher is the +pupil himself in the dynamism of his development. So that, far from +limiting the autonomy of the disciple, the master, as the propulsive +element of the pupil's spontaneity, penetrates his personality, not to +suppress it, but to help its impulses and facilitate its infinite +development. + +The same method of resorting to the concrete now leads us to the +determination of a third essential element in the process of education. +We have spoken of the master, and we have spoken of the pupil,--of the +latter as becoming actual as universal personality, of the former as +becoming identical with this same personality. We must now take up the +connecting link between the two, that is, culture. By culture we mean +the content of education, the presupposed heirloom which in the course +of time must pass from the teacher to the pupil. This spiritual content, +in being apprehended, appears under different aspects: as erudition and +information; as formation of personal capacities and training of +spiritual activities; as art and science; as experience of life and as +concept and ideal of existence; as simple cognition and as a norm of +conduct. It includes everything that comes within the scope of teaching, +and from whose value education derives its peculiar worth. + +Culture, so defined, may be conceived of in two ways; and in as much as +their differences are highly significant in the sphere of education as +elsewhere, we must now somewhat carefully consider them. + +These two ways correspond to two opposite conceptions of reality, and as +such they pertain to philosophy. But men in general constantly have +recourse to them, and so it happens that people frequently indulge in +philosophic speculations without knowing it; and much philosophising +goes on outside of the schools of the specialists, who are few compared +to the great number of those who in their own way handle genuine +concepts of philosophy. + +Let us begin from the most obvious of these concepts, from the one which +is fundamental and original to the human mind. Our whole life, if we +consider the data of experience, seems to unfold itself on the +substratum of a natural world, which therefore, far from depending on +human life, represents the very condition of it. In order to live, to +act, to produce, or in any way to exercise an influence on the external +world, we must, first of all, be born. Our birth is the effect of a life +which is not our life, which step by step rises and grows and spreads +until it gathers all nature within itself. This nature existed before we +were born, it will continue to be after we are all dead. Men draw their +life from an organic and inorganic nature which had to exist in order +that they might come into being. When nature will cease to provide these +conditions, human life, according to this point of view, will come to an +end; but nature, transformed, chilled, darkened, dead, will yet continue +to be. + +On this living trunk of nature our own life is grafted; animals come +into existence, and among animals the human species. Each of us, as he +comes into the world, finds this nature, developed, abundant, +diversified in millions of forms, traversed by innumerable forces, +organised up to the most highly developed structures, man included. We +find this nature, and we begin to study it. We examine its parts one by +one, their complexity, and the difference of their functioning. For each +one of them has its peculiar way of being and of acting; it has its +"laws." The aggregate of these laws, mutually corresponding, and +integrating one another, constitutes the natural world--reality--as it +stands before us. With this external reality we strive to become +acquainted; and in order that we may live in it we either adapt +ourselves to it, or adapt its conditions to ourselves. In this reality +too we acquire the knowledge of the needs of our organism and of the +means by which they may be satisfied,--the ratio, so to speak, between +natural desires and controlled resources. + +We are also told that our organism is in constant change and hurries on +to its destination, to our death, which we abhor as passionately as we +cherish life, but which we accept because such is the law of human life, +fatal and inexorable; for reality is what it is, and we must adapt +ourselves to it. + +But if reality appears as constituted before us, as therefore +conditioning our existence, and as existing independently of us; if it +is indifferent to reality whether we be in it or not; if we are truly +extraneous to it, the conclusion must then be drawn that we, from the +outside, presume to know reality and to move about it without being this +reality itself or any part of it. For all reality is thought by us as a +connected whole, though indeed vaguely; in its totality it is regarded +as an object known to us, but existing in utter independence of this +knowledge of ours. Its whole process is therefore complete in objective +nature, which conditions our spiritual life, and this in turn can mirror +reality but can never be a part of it. + +This then is the primitive and fundamental concept that the human mind +forms of reality. In consequence of it man feels that he is enclosed +within himself: he knows he is producing the dreams and the fair images +of art; that he can construct inwardly abstract geometrical figures and +numbers; that he can generate ideas. But he also feels that between +these ideal creations of his own, and the solid, sound, real living +forms of nature, there is an abyss. He must, indeed, fall in with +nature, in the process of generating other living beings of flesh and +blood. He must avail himself of nature by first submitting to its +unfailing laws, if he intends to give body, that is, real existence, to +the ideal conceptions of his intelligence. On one side then we have +thought; on the opposite side reality,--that reality, Nature. + +This conception at a certain moment is transformed but not substantially +changed. As we begin to reflect, we notice that this nature, as known to +us, is not the real external nature, the nature which is unfolded in +time and space, which we see before our eyes, an object perceptible by +our bodily senses. We conclude then, that nature as known to us is an +_idea_; that Nature is one thing and the idea of nature another. And if +we think this perceptible nature and have faith in its reality and in +the reality of its determinations, this nature in which reality is made +to consist is the nature which is within our thought,--the idea of +nature; or in other words, thought considered as the content of our +mind. This thought is the aim of all the inquiries by which we strive to +become thoroughly acquainted with nature, and which we finally discover +or at least ought to discover when we succeed in attaining true +knowledge. We say that we know nature only when we are able to recognise +an idea in nature: that is, an idea in each of its elements, and a +system of ideas in the whole of nature. So that what we know is not +really nature as it presents itself to our senses, still less nature as +it is, before it has impressed our senses; but nature as disclosed to us +by thought, as it exists in thought--i.e., the idea. And this idea must +be real, otherwise nature, which has its truth in the idea, could not be +real. Not only is it real, it is that reality itself which a moment ago +we were led to think of as consisting in external perceptible nature. + +This reality makes the life of our thought possible, but it is not a +product of this life. It is a condition and a prerequisite of +thought, and as such it does not exist because we think it: but +rather we are able to think it because it exists. It is eternal +truth, at first unknown to man, then by him desired. In quest of it +he gradually lifts on all sides the veil which hides it from his eyes, +without however hoping that it will ever entirely disclose to him its +divine countenance. + +According to this transformed point of view, then, reality, which in the +first instance appeared to be natural, that is physical or material, has +now become ideal. But even thus it remains extraneous to thought, and +unconcerned with the presence or the absence of it; transcending the +entire life of the human spirit, and incessantly subject to the danger +of error. Whereas the idea as a complexus of all ideas that can be +thought (but have not been thought, or rather have not all been thought) +is the beacon of light that guides the way of man in the ocean of life; +it is Truth pure and perfect. + +This idea evidently must not be confused with the purely subjective +ideas which we spoke of above, and which as such are extraneous to +reality. This idea is reality itself idealised. It is to this idea, for +instance, that we all appeal when we affirm the existence of a justice +superior to that of which man is capable, of a justice in behalf of +which man is in duty bound to sacrifice his private interests, and even +his life. This idea we have in mind when we speak of a sacred and +inviolable right, whereas in daily practice there is perhaps no right +which is not more or less trampled upon. This idea is before us when we +consider truth in general: truth which is indeed real, even though it +may not be seen or felt, much more real than physical nature, for nature +comes to life and dies and constantly changes, while truth is +motionless, impassible, eternal. In its bosom then we must try to find +everything that we want to accept as not illusory. + +But in substituting the conception of an ideal reality for the +conception of a material one, reality as a whole continues to be +something contradistinguished from us, an object indeed of our thoughts, +but one which cannot be conceived as it is in itself except by +abstracting it from our own thought. + +We, then, who open our eager eyes in the endeavour to discover, to know, +to orient ourselves, to live in the midst of a known and familiar world; +we, thinking beings, and not simply things of nature, beings who as such +affirm our personality in the very act of saying _We_, we then are of +less account than the earthworms which crawl along until they die +unknown to the foot that crushes them. We are nothing because we do not +belong to reality; we deceive ourselves into believing that we are doing +something on our own account, but in truth we renounce every desire of +doing or creating something original, something we might really call +ours; and we abandon ourselves, we drift away confused with external +reality and submerged under the irresistible current of its laws. + +This conception of life, which I have given only in its barest outline, +is a very common one. For thousands of years it has persisted in the +philosophical field, the nourishment and the torment of the greatest +intellects of humanity. But humanity could not rest satisfied with a +world conceived in such a manner; with a world which, whether we call it +nature or idea, is at bottom always nature. For by nature we understand +not only that reality which is in space and time, but also every reality +which is not the product of our will, nor the result in general of that +spiritual activity, which in a manner peculiar to all human acts reveals +a diversity of values, extending from the sublimity of heroism and of +genius to the lowest depths of cowardice and to the gloom of sloth. Nor +can it be considered as the product or result of a process; for it is +immediate reality, original and immutable. In a world which is Nature, +man is an intruder, a stranger without rights, without even real +existence. As a being, he is destined to be suppressed; nay, he does not +even exist. And his life, with all his aspirations, his needs, his +claims, is but a fallacious illusion which will sooner or later +collapse. Man cannot help succumbing in a world where there is no place +for him. Therefore a more or less cloudy gust of pessimism lowers over +the consciousness that has stopped at this conception of reality. +Leopardi is the most eloquent expression of the intense misery to which +man is condemned in such circumstances, or to which rather he condemns +himself. He condemns himself because he has it in his power to conceive +reality otherwise. For let him ponder seriously and he will succeed in +convincing himself that the naturalistic conception of reality is +absurd. Philosophy has so demonstrated this truth, that he who now +strives eagerly to attain a moral point of view in harmony with +established principles can no longer repeat that note of pessimism, can +no longer assert that the world is nature, or that it is the eternal +idea from which nature is derived and by which it is made intelligible. +Such views are no longer tenable. + +The teacher who, because of his lofty mission, claims the right of +forming souls, of arousing those powerful moral energies which alone +empower man to live as a human being, may not, must not be ignorant of +the fact that the contention of naturalism, which makes of the world an +abstract reality, presupposed by the human spirit and therefore anterior +and indifferent to it, is a belief that has been superseded and +surpassed by modern thought. The teacher too can easily grasp this view, +for in gathering all the arguments by which, along different lines, the +new conception of reality has been attained, we find that the whole +matter reduces itself to a simple and very easy reflection. Very easy in +itself, though it may seem difficult to the greater part of us,--to the +superficial thinkers, to the absent-minded, to those who lack the +strength necessary to face the great responsibility imposed upon us by +the truth which is derived from this reflection. + +For naturalism reduces itself to the affirmation that we think nature, +but do not ourselves exist; nature alone exists. We do not exist and yet +we think, and we think of nature as existing. We do not exist and yet +nature exists, of whose existence we have no other testimony than our +thoughts. And if thought is a shadow, what will reality then be? The +"dream of a shadow," in the words of the Greek poet. Is it possible for +us to stop at this conclusion? Is it possible for an inexistent thing to +vouch for the existence of something which we know only from its +attestations? Such is the absurd position we are forced into when we +assume that Thought, in equipoise with reality, remains outside of it +and leaves it out of its own self. + +We give the name of realism to that manner of thinking which makes all +reality consist in an external existence, abstract and separate from +thought, and makes real knowledge consist in the conforming of our ideas +to external things. By idealism on the other hand we mean that higher +point of view from which we discover the impossibility of conceiving a +reality which is not the reality of thought itself. For it reality is +not the idea as a mere object of the mind, which therefore can exist +outside of the mind, and must exist there in order that the mind may +eventually have the means of thinking it. Reality is this very thought +itself by which we think all things, and which surely must be something +if by means of it we want somehow to affirm any reality whatsoever, and +must be a real activity if, in the act of thinking, it will not entangle +itself in the enchanted web of dreams, but will instead give us the life +of the real world. If it is not conceivable that such activity could +ever go forth from itself and penetrate the presumably existent world of +matter, then it means that it has no need of issuing from itself, in +order to come in contact with real existence; it means that the reality +which we call material and assume to be external to thought is in some +way illusory; and that the true reality is that which is being realised +by the activity of thought itself. For there is no way of thinking any +reality except by setting thought as the basis of it. + +This is the conception, or, if you will, the faith, not only of modern +philosophy, but of consciousness itself in general, of that +consciousness which was gradually formed and moulded under the influence +of the deeply moral sentiment of life fostered by Christianity. For it +was Christ that first opposed to nature and to the flesh a truer +reality,--not the world in which man is born, but that world to which he +must uplift himself: that world in which he has to live, not because it +is anterior to him, but because he must create it by his will: and this +world is the kingdom of the spirit. + +In accordance with this conception there is, properly speaking, no +reality: there is a spirit which creates reality, which therefore is +self-made and not the product of nature. The realist speaks of external +existence, of a world into which man is admitted and to which he must +adapt himself. But the idealist knows only what the spirit does, what +man acts. A nature, ever at work in the progress of the spirit, throbs +in the soul of man, who with his intellect and his will re-creates it by +its restless, unceasing motion. It is a world which is never created, +because the entire past flows and becomes actual in that form which is +peculiar to it and in which it exists, namely, the present,--history in +the incessant rhythm of its becoming, in the ever-living act of +self-production. + +On what side of the controversy should the teacher stand who means to +absorb into his soul the life of the school? Will he with the realists +believe in a reality which must be observed and verified? Or will he as +an idealist trust that the only world is the one which is to be +constructed by him; that in all this task he can rely only on the +creative activity of the spirit that moves within us, ever unsatisfied +with what is, incessantly aspiring for what does not yet exist, for what +must come to be as being the only thing which deserves to exist and to +fulfil life? + +There are then these two ways of conceiving culture, the realistic and +the idealistic. By the former we are led to imagine that man's spirit +is empty, and that no nourishment can come to it except from the outside +world, from those external elements which he can acquire because they +exist prior to the activity by which he assimilates them. The latter, +admitting only what is derived from the developing life of the spirit, +can conceive of culture solely as an immanent product of this very life, +and separable from it only by abstraction. + +It is evident that the ordinarily accepted view of educators to-day is +realistic rather than otherwise. The ideal and therefore the historical +origin of the school itself is intimately connected with the realistic +presupposition. For the school begins when man for the first time +becomes aware of the existence of a store of accumulated culture which +should be protected from dispersion. Grammar, for instance, exists +before the notion of teaching it arises. Men already possess a language +when they make up their minds to teach it to their children. Self-taught +and inventive genius, by new observation and discoveries, gives rise to +new disciplines; and men, discovering the value of such disciplines, +determine to institute a school where they may be cultivated and handed +down to the coming generations. In general then, first comes knowledge; +then the school as a depository of it. It may be granted that the +progress of learning is made possible or at least accentuated by +educational institutions; but the fact remains that the school is +founded on pre-existing knowledge. Science, arts, customs must exist +before they can be taught to others, and they do exist, but not in the +spirit of the one who is to acquire them, who must appropriate them as +they are in themselves. The _Iliad_ exists: Homer sang: the poems +attributed to him were collected into an epic from which we learn of the +beliefs, of the aspirations, and of the memories that were dear to the +ancient Greeks, and every cultivated person to-day must derive from them +his own spiritual substance. The teacher shows to his pupils how best to +read, how to understand that epic which is a treasure of the past +bequeathed not only to the modern Greeks but to humanity in general. For +we all profit from this inherited spiritual wealth in the same manner +that every man that comes into the world enjoys the light and the heat +of the sun which he surely did not kindle in heaven. + +The fact that culture, as the subject matter of education, exists before +the exercise of that spiritual activity which can be educated only +through its means, seems to the realist a condition without which the +school cannot arise. Only as culture develops and spreads does the +school grow and expand; and, in the progress of civilisation, as culture +becomes specialised, the school is correspondingly differentiated into +institutions of ever-growing specialisation. For the school can but +follow and reflect the advance of science, of letters, of art,--of +humanity in general in all it strives to perpetuate. + +All this evidently can be maintained only from the point of view of the +realist. For him the school is concerned not with those that already +know and therefore have no need of it, but for those who are still +ignorant. For them it is instituted; it ministers to their needs, and is +therefore adjusted in the direction in which it believes their spirit +should be oriented. In the school of physicians, there is not medicine +but the learning of it, for if the art of healing were already mastered +as it seems to be in the case of the professors, there would be no need +of a medical school. There is indeed the professor in the lecture room; +but he is there only for the learners, and his role has no meaning +except in relation to their needs. He is the possessor of science, and +as such he teaches and does not learn. The school then is not the +possession of culture, but the development of a spiritual life aspiring +to this possession; and this aspiration is possible because of the +existence of the teacher who has already mastered it, who possesses it, +not as his own property, but as social wealth entrusted to him for the +use of everybody. He himself is only an instrument of communication. +Culture antedates him; it does so even when he is the author of it. For +it is not possible for him to impart it to others until he has first +elaborated it himself, and not until the merits of his contributions +have been in part at least recognised by the world. + +The school to the realist presupposes the library. The teacher needs +books, plenty of books in order to increase his knowledge and thus +become better acquainted with that world through which he has to pilot +his pupils. In the books, then, in the long shelves, culture lives: in +the innumerable volumes that no one ever hopes to read; in the shelves +which contain a world of beautiful things, and so valuable that man, as +Horace says, should spend sleepless nights in order to acquire them, +should endure cold and heat, fatigue and sacrifice. For humanity, we are +told, lives in those volumes to which the teacher must somehow link +himself if he intends to advance properly, to live the life which our +forefathers have generously endowed for us, and to protect our spiritual +inheritance from dispersion. In this atmosphere he must live; he must +plunge in that spiritual sea which rolls limitless across the centuries. +The pupil looks out upon this ocean which allures every man who is born +to the life of culture. At first he clings to the shore, dreads the +water, and asks to be helped until he has at least become familiar with +the element. Who will encourage the beginner to leave the dry land and +plunge into the deep where he would meet sure destruction? He must first +be trained in some sheltered cove, where protected from the violence of +the tumultuous surf, from the might of the indivisible mass of the +ocean, he may gradually learn the ways of the deep. + +The student must accordingly begin with a definite book; he must be +saved from the haunting power of the library, which draws the youthful +mind towards every volume, towards every subject. In the multitude of +books, not all of them read, not all of them readable, thought founders, +sees nothing, thinks nothing, is unable to rest in any of the things +which he imagines exist in the vast library shelves. He must choose. Let +him select, say, Dante. He reads the _Divine Comedy_, the poem written +by that great Italian who has been dead these six centuries and now +rests at Ravenna, no longer mindful of his Francesca, of his magnanimous +Farinata, of his kindly master Brunetto, or of Beatrice. Dante created +his miraculous world, he breathed life into his characters, wrote the +last line of his last canto, smiled in rapture at the divine beauty of +his creation, now complete and perfect, and died. His manuscript was +copied thousands of times; and after the discovery of printing, millions +of copies were made. In one of these we now are able to find it, this +divine poem, just as it was written,--for we want it exactly as it +flowed from his pen without the change of a letter, without the omission +of a comma. And this volume is an example of what exists in a +library,--of the culture that teachers strive to find there, and thence +communicate to their pupils!--something that belongs to the world, +something which is a part of reality, which men therefore can grasp, if +they want to, just as they can get to know the stars and the plants, +and all things of nature. The _Divine Comedy_ can be realistically +conceived in respect to us who open the volume and prepare to read it, +for the reason that it already exists and arouses our desire. If we had +left it on the shelf where it was resting, it would have had exactly the +same existence. What we find in the volume, as we read of that land of +the dead which is much more living than all the living beings who +surround us in our daily life, would all of it have been in that book, +would have continued to be there, even if we had never opened it. + +But is it really so? If we reflect a while we shall see that this is not +the case. The book contains exactly what we find there, what we are +capable of finding there, nothing more, nothing less. Different persons +discover in it different things, but it is nevertheless obvious that for +each individual the book contains only what he finds in it; and in order +to be able to say that the book contains more than what a given reader +discovers in it, it is necessary that some other person should find that +something more; and that the text contains this additional beauty is +only true for him who discovered it and for those who seek it after +him. + +Dante waited for centuries for De Sanctis[1] to appear and to +disclose the meaning of Francesca's words. Therefore it has been +said that to understand Dante is a sign of greatness. Abstractly +considered, of course, the poet is what he is, but only in the +abstract. In the concrete, Dante is the author whom we admire and +appreciate proportionately to our power. For as we read the poem in +accordance with our training, and the development of our personality, +Dante is grafted on a trunk which did not exist before us, which, on +the contrary, is our very life; and before this life is realised, +evidently none of those things can be found there which actually come +into being in the process of its realisation. So that if we had not +read the book, far from its being true that everything we found in it +would still continue to be there, nothing would remain of what we find +in it, absolutely nothing. + +We have said nothing of "what _we_ find." But if we consider the matter +we shall see that what we find is everything; everything for me; +everything for everybody. Only that can come out of a book which the +reader with his soul and with his labours is capable of getting out of +it; and in consequence of these labours and in virtue of his soul he is +able to say that a certain book has a content. In fact, to return to our +example, the _Divine Comedy_ which we know, the only one which we can +know, the only one which exists, is the one which lives in our souls, +and which is a function of the criticism that interprets it, understands +it, and appreciates it. That _Divine Comedy_ therefore did not close +the circle of its life on the day when Dante wrote the last line of the +last canto; it continued to live, still continues to exist in the +history, in the life of the spirit. Its life never draws to a close. The +poem is never finished. + +This is true of the poem of Dante; it is true of everything which we +conceive of as inherited from our great predecessors, from those who +built up the patrimony of human culture. Culture then is not before us, +a treasure ready to be excavated from the depths of the earth, awaiting +to be revealed to us. Culture is what we ourselves are making; it is the +life of our spirit. + +Abstract culture, on the contrary, is merely as realistically conceived. +It slumbers in the libraries, in the sepulchres of those who lived, who +passed away and created it once for all. It belongs to the past, to the +things that have died. But the past, if we really mean to grasp it, if +we want to see it close by as something that is and not merely as an +abstraction, the past itself, becoming the present, made into that +actuality which we call living memory, is history,--history constructed +by us, meditated by us, re-created by us, in accordance with our +abilities;--and with our powers of evocation we awaken the past from its +slumber and breathe into it the life of the spiritual interests, of the +ideas, of the sentiments that are, after all, the living substance in +which the past really survives, in which it is real. In the same way the +only culture that can be bestowed upon the spirit, the only one that +admits of being concretely taught and learned, the only one that can be +sought, because it is the only one that really exists, is idealistic +culture. It is not in books, nor in the brains of others. It exists in +our own souls as it is gradually being formed there. It cannot therefore +be an antecedent to the activity of the spirit, since it consists in +this very activity. + +This must be the faith of all those who cannot bring themselves to +believe that they are strangers in this world, and that they have come +here to exercise a function which is not their own. For the world in +general, and the sphere of culture in particular, is not completed when +we arrive upon the scene. This is why human life has a value, why +education is a mission. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [1] Francesco de Sanctis, a great Italian critic, whose "History of + Italian Literature" is still unfortunately inaccessible in + English. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE SPIRITUALITY OF CULTURE + + +The idealistic conception of culture enables us to get an initial +understanding of the spirituality of the school. This spirituality is +surely felt by all those who live within the class-room; but it should +be understood in the most rigorous and absolute manner by those who wish +to have a deeper consciousness of the extreme delicacy of the tasks +performed and the words uttered by those who enter it with the sincere +heart and the pure soul of the teacher. + +The school is obviously not the hall which contains the teacher and the +pupils. These may have a hall, may even have the teacher, without yet +possessing the school, which consists in the communication of culture. +This culture, we have seen, is not really pre-existent to the act which +communicates it; it is not to be found in books, not to be looked for in +an ideal transcendent world, not to be demanded of the teacher. It is +only in the spirit of the person who is in the act of learning. It is +there in the manner in which it is possible for it to be there, not +comparable to any presumed form of pre-existing culture. The school +gains its existence entirely in the soul of the learner. + +Knowledge is not to be found beyond the bounds of the human spirit. I +insist on this conception because I am well aware that the minds of many +rebel against this conclusion, no matter how irrefutable its grounds may +be. For they ask: what then is the learning which we ascribe to the +master minds of humanity, now indeed dead but still active in their +works? They also ask how we are able to think and account for that +learning which we feel we are not originating, which we know we are +re-acquiring for ourselves after it has many times been in the domain of +others. + +Can we really consider as non-existent what we as yet do not know, may +perhaps never know, but which is none the less capable of being known? +When we are filled with reverence for the glory of men whose learning +surpasses our powers, are we the victims of an illusion? Are we +prevailed upon by ignorance and lack of reflection? And how then can we +justify the cult which every civilised man consecrates to the mighty +spirits--philosophers, poets, artists, and heroes--who added so much to +the moral fund of humanity? Was there not a Dante six centuries back, +who composed a lofty poem, which was admired by everybody, at a time +when we, who now read it and bring it to life in our souls, were still +so far removed from the entrance of this life? + +The answer to all these questions is very simple, so simple that we must +be careful lest we miss its significance. All this lore of the past +which we strive to preserve surely does exist; it does contain all the +names which are sacred to the memory of humankind. The _Divine Comedy_ +has been written and no longer awaits its Dante. But this lore of the +past, as we for brevity's sake call it, is nothing else than what _we +think_ as such. History, as it unfolds itself from century to century, +is never compressed within a past which because of its completeness +might be made to exist beyond the present and in opposition to it; but +it exists in a past which is in the present as a plant that grows or an +animal that lives, never adding anything new to the old, always +transforming the old into the new; at no time, therefore, having +anything but what is new, never being anything else but the new. In +history, thus comprehended, we to-day are but one person with the men +who thought before us, with the poets, the philosophers, the spiritual +creators of the past. With them we are a person that grows and develops, +ever acquiring, never losing; a single being that apprehends and recalls +and constantly makes all his past bear fruit in the present. Our +childhood has not completely passed away into nothing: it keeps +returning to the ever-busy phantasy that tenderly fondles it, cherishes +it, idealises it into poetry. If we consider this childhood as something +that once was, that existed in utter ignorance of this poetry that was +yet to be written, that could not then be written, surely this infancy +is quite dead; we should rather say that it never existed. But it does +live as the childhood which is a recollection, which arouses feelings, +and such feelings as are at a given moment the actual sentiment of the +adult. Once in the years long gone by a kindly word reached the depths +of my soul. We all have heard in the years long gone by some such kindly +words that in the mystery of our childish mind appeared as a revelation. +Such words as fall from the lips of a mother and inspired by her tender +affection have the secret power of appeasing us in a moment of rage, and +of making us feel the gentle sweetness of that goodness which is made of +love. We may since have forgotten that word, and the circumstances in +which it was uttered: but it is none the less true that on that day our +soul was modified and became endowed almost with a sixth sense. This +sense has enabled us subsequently to perceive so many things that are +beautiful in life, and it in turn grew stronger because of frequent use +and increasing exercise, until it finally became the most potent organ +of our moral personality. Here too our development has been a constant +acquiring with no losing: a preserving of the past by which it was +converted into the present, and therefore annulled as past pure and +simple. + +Such is the moral development of man, who believes himself an +individual, but is in truth humanity considered momentarily in one of +its fragments. Such is history: the unfolding of the spirit in its +universality. It is not therefore difficult to determine what is the +past culture in which we desire to graft our present one. It is our own +actual culture in so far as it is not the patrimony, not the spiritual +life of the isolated individual, of a particular being; but is instead +the life of the spirit in its universality, the development of the human +personality taken in its effective, historical concreteness. + +The past with its entire content is a projection of our actual +consciousness, i.e., of the present. But we must not give this +proposition a sceptical sense. As I have already pointed out, the +present neither in the particular individual nor in the universal +history of the spirit, is sundered from the past by that abyss which is +ordinarily seen from a materialistic point of view. The past is one and +the same thing with the present. The past _is_ the present in its inmost +substance; and the present is the past that has matured. The grain of +wheat which was buried in the furrow is now no longer to be found under +the glebe. It lives, multiplied in the ear of wheat. The seed as such +was decomposed and destroyed in the soil; it is there no more, it sprung +thence as a blade of grass, it grew, was transformed, still is, still +lasts, and will continue to endure in other forms. Where is it now? Why, +in whatever form it may now have assumed. It is the past in the present, +as the present. + +So then, what is Dante the poet who towers over the centuries, the +object of our admiration, the master of all who speak and use the +Italian language? He is the lordly poet of the fourteenth century, not +because he then lived his own individual life, but because he survives +to-day in us who think him, who appreciate him even when we are not +fully acquainted with him. In this sense he lives in us, as the seed +does in the ear of corn. + +I have just hinted at the possibility of appreciating something without +fully understanding it. I wanted to make clear how impossible it is to +separate, with a clean cut, knowledge from ignorance. It is far from +true that before taking up a certain science we know absolutely nothing +about it,--that the boy who goes to school for the first time is +completely devoid of all knowledge, or that he who is in quest of a book +which he has never read can in no way whatever speak about it. + +For fair renown begets love for the unseen person, as the poet reminds +us and as experience often teaches. Frequently we know of the existence +and the beauty of a woman whom we have never seen, but who is not +therefore completely unknown to us. So also many of us desired to go to +school long before we had seen the inside of a classroom. What is dearer +than the joy foretasted at the first imaginings of school? We look +forward to that new life upon which we are about to enter in the company +of our bigger brothers and of our older playmates. They have told us so +many things about it. From their accounts and from the fond memories of +our parents we already know the school before we approach it, and its +pleasing aspects invite us into the classroom. + +For the same reason we search for books we have never seen, and we are +drawn towards new studies and pursuits. There is no leaping from +ignorance to knowledge, as from pitch darkness to noon-tide brilliancy. +The transition is imperceptible, as when the dim morning twilight merges +into the first glimmerings of dawn, which in turn fade away under the +dazzling flashes of sunrise. And even from the midst of darkness we +yearn for a world which though unseen is somehow present to our +consciousness, already illumined by our thought, warmed by our +sentiments. Or, in other words, the culture which we do not yet possess, +and which we expect to get at school, is already implanted in our mind, +where it will sprout and grow and bear fruit, fused and confused with +the life of our spirit. + +Having now reached this point, can we define culture? I am inclined for +a moment to assume the role of Don Ferrante in Manzoni's novel.[2] By +pedantic ratiocinations he proved that the plague could not be a +contagious disease: "for," he said, "in nature everything is either a +substance or an accident." Contagion, he then went on to prove, could +neither be the one nor the other; therefore the plague was but an influx +of the stars, and there could be no use in taking precautions; and +having proved this, he fell a victim to the epidemic, and died cursing +the stars like an operatic hero. Let us follow for a moment in the +footsteps of this pedant, whose method, ridiculous as it may seem, has +had nevertheless a glorious history, and one which Manzoni himself +admired. + +I say: We can think only and we do think only two kinds of +reality,--person or thing. Every one of us is naturally drawn to this +distinction; and when we have formulated it, we feel more or less +vaguely, more or less clearly, that every possibility is comprised +within these two terms, that outside of them it is impossible to think +any reality whatsoever. The reason is this: if we think, if we act, if +we live, we inevitably place ourselves in a situation such that we on +one side are as centre, as beginning, or as subject of our activity; and +on the other side are the objects toward which our activity is directed +and by which it is terminated. _We_ therefore as subject of the entire +surrounding world; and _this world_ as the end of our thoughts and of +our scientific inquiries, end of our desires and of our practical +activity; the world which is represented in our consciousness, and which +we strive to dominate by our labours, and our reason. Can there be +anything else beside _us_ and what _we_ think? + +The world which we think and which we oppose to ourselves seems at first +to contain different kinds of objects. There seem to be both persons and +things; simple objects of cognition which we ordinarily call _things_ +which can never become subjects; and persons who at first are +represented to us as objects of our knowing, of our love, and of our +hatred, as ends of our activity; but who under a closer scrutiny are +transformed before our eyes into knowing and acting subjects, who, in +other words, become just exactly what we are. But when we really get to +know these beings that surround us as subjects on an equal basis, then +we cease to consider them as objects of our cognition, and as solely +endowed with that material objectivity which at first put them in the +same category with the inanimate things, with plants and animals. We +then find them close to us, very close: fused with our own spiritual +substance. We feel them to be our fellow men, our kinsmen, with whom we +constitute that person of whose existence I am aware every time I say +_We_: the person we must take into account whenever we wish to affirm +our personality in a concrete manner, the only person, the one subject, +the true subject of human knowledge and of human activity. The subject +which knows and acts as a universal in the interests of all men, or +rather in behalf of the _one man_ in whom all single individuals are +united and with whom they are all identified. + +Then if we give a rigorous and exact meaning to the expressions, "We and +what is before us," "We and the objects," "We and the World," we have a +correct classification of all thinkable reality differentiated into +persons and things, but with the understanding that all persons are in +reality one Person. + +One _person_, and things innumerable! As we look about us, we find the +horizon peopled with thousands and millions and infinite quantities of +objects, which may one by one attract our attention, and may be gathered +up in the vast, unbounded picture surveyed by the eye as it moves on +from thing to thing, incessantly, without ever reaching the last. The +world which we first discover is the world of matter, of things which +strike our senses. This world rushes impetuously into our mind at the +beginning of our natural experience. And these material objects are many +not only _de facto_ but also _de jure_. They must be, they cannot but be +many if we are to consider them as material things. It is their peculiar +nature, it is their very essence to be an indefinite multitude. + +A material thing means a thing occupying space. And space is made up of +elements, each one of which excludes all the others and is therefore +conceived independently of the others, must so be conceived. For it is +the very nature of space to be divisible. When it is narrowed down to a +point and cannot be further subdivided, then it ceases to be space. Its +divisibility signifies that space is nothing more than the sum of its +parts; that it contains nothing in addition to these parts; that it +therefore resolves itself into them without at all losing its being and +without any of the parts being deprived of anything which was theirs in +the whole. In fact, if anything were lost of the entire whole, this loss +could not but be felt in each single part. A book, considered as a +material thing, is composed of a certain number of printed leaves +stitched together; and if the leaves fall apart, they may be brought +together again so that they will compose the same book as before. An +iron rod weighs the same before and after it has been broken up into +parts. + +Things cease to be exclusively and solely material when, though they may +be divisible in a certain respect, they are nevertheless indivisible in +another respect. Plants, animals, all living organisms, considered +simply as objects occupying space and as therefore having certain +dimensions, admit surely of being separated into parts. Trees are cut +into logs, sawed into boards; animals are slaughtered and quartered. But +considered from the point of view of its peculiar quality, of the +essential property which distinguishes it from all other bodies, an +organism is not divisible. If we do divide it, each component part +ceases to be what it previously was when conjoined with the others. Such +a part cannot be preserved; it withers, it decays, and is dispersed, so +that the whole can never be reconstituted. The various parts of an +organism, considered as such, are inseparable, because each of them is +and maintains itself on the strength of its relations to the others, +forming with them a true and essential unity. If we however try to find +out what this unity is by which all the limbs are indissolubly held +together, we shall discover nothing which can be observed and +represented spatially, nothing endowed with dimensions, however small, +after the manner of the several limbs which this unity fuses within +itself and vivifies. + +If unity which is the life-giving principle of every organism could be +spatially represented, or in other words, if it were something material, +it would be one of those very limbs that have to be unified, and could +not then be the unifying principle itself. Hence the vanity of the +efforts on the part of materialistic physiologists who obstinately +strive to explain life by observing the parts which compose the organic +mass, by studying the concurrence of their processes, their chemical +relationships, and their mechanism. A material being, organically +constituted, is something more than a material thing pure and simple: it +announces already a higher principle; it presages the spirit. + +But the things that we all agree to regard as spiritual defy absolutely +every attempt at division. A poem may be considered in a certain way as +material, and may accordingly be divided into various parts,--stanzas, +lines, words. But it is clear that such a separation cannot have the +value which we assign to the divisions of things material. For in their +case every part can stand by itself, and is in no way deprived of its +characteristic being; whereas every part of a poem, stanza, verse, word, +calls out and responds to every other part; and if isolated from them, +loses the meaning which it had in the context; or rather it loses every +meaning, and consequently perishes. It is true that by conjectures we +interpret even very small fragments of ancient poems. But we do so only +in so far as we claim the possibility of restoring approximately the +entire poem in which the given fragment may live, by which it may be +restored to life. Likewise all the words lined up in dictionaries are as +so many bleeding limbs of living discourses, to which they must somehow +or other be ideally reconnected, if we are to understand what they +really were and what functions they had. Multiplicity of parts in things +of the spirit is only apparent: it must be reduced to indivisible unity, +from which every element of the multiplicity derives its origin, its +substance, and its life, so that we may give to it a real meaning and a +foundation. + +Nor is this the only unity possessed by the things that are assumed to +be spiritual. We have already considered the unity whereby, for example, +the words of a poem cannot be separated from the poem itself, in which +each of them acquires a particular accent, a particular expression, and +therefore a particular individuality. We shall now consider another +unity. He who really perceives a poem is not confronted by an observable +thing, compact if you will, unseverable and united, but none the less +independent of human personality. Poetry is only understood when in the +flowing unity of its verses and in the continuous rhythm of its words we +grasp a sentiment in its development, a soul's throb in a moment of its +life, a man, a personality. The poetry of Dante is very different from +that of Petrarch, because each is the expression of a powerfully +distinct personality. Any composition of these poets is understood and +enjoyed only when we feel in it the personal accent which distinguishes +one poetical personality from the other. A poet without individuality +has no significance whatsoever, and therefore no existence as a poet. +But the real artist leaves his imprint more or less markedly in all his +productions, so that in every given instance, over and beyond the +variety of the subject matter, we feel the living soul of the poet. A +poem then is the poet; it is a person and not a thing. And the same can +be said, as we can easily see, of all things that are commonly called +spiritual. + +But in addition to things material, it seems that there are immaterial +ones which do not pertain as one's own to any particular person. The +ideas of which we had occasion to speak before,--immaterial entities, +not perceptible by the senses, but thinkable by the intellect, and +which severally correspond to all sorts or species of the various +material things,--were once conceived as things by philosophers, and +they are still so conceived to-day by the majority of men. It is +not requisite that one actually think them; it is sufficient that they +be in themselves thinkable. As a matter of fact, they may or may not +be thought, no differently therefore from any of the material objects +which are not created by our senses, but must already exist in order +that our senses may perceive them. These ideas are many, in a manner +corresponding to the material objects; and they are all different. +They mirror, so to speak, the multiplicity of material things in +whose semblance and likeness they were devised. There are horses in +nature, and there is the idea of the horse by which we are able to +recognise all the animals that belong to that species. There are +dogs, and there is the dog which we rediscover in every one of them. +And there are flowers and the flower; and pinks, roses, and lilies, +as well as the pink, the rose, and the lily; and likewise iron, +copper, silver, gold, lime, water, and so on, to infinity. It is +impossible to set a limit to ideas, because it is not possible ever to +stop dividing, distinguishing, subdividing that nature which unfolds +itself throughout space. + +This boundless multitude of ideas, through which our mind can rove, +surely has no spatial extension. But because of the necessity of +conceiving any multitude as existing in some kind of space, it was +thought proper to posit an ideal space in addition to the physical one. +In other words, metaphorical dimensions were added to dimensions +properly so called. But whether spatially or not, we strive to conceive +ideas as many, each one of them existing by itself, and susceptible of +being thought independently of the others. In reality however we never +succeed in thinking them except as bound together and forming a system, +in such a way that no single one of them can be thought except by +thinking the others with it. Take man as an instance: each one of us has +intuitively the idea of man, but this idea is not possessed like a word +of which we may not even know the meaning. In thinking the idea we must +think something which is its content. If we know what man is, we must be +able to attribute a content to the idea of man. We may say, as the +ancients did, that man is the laughing animal, or the speaking animal, +because he is the only animal capable of expressing the emotions of his +soul by laughter or by the inflection of his voice; because, in other +words, he is the only animal who is conscious of what goes on within +him. Or perhaps we might say that man is the reasoning animal, and we +think this idea when we have thought the idea of _animal_ and the idea +of _reason_. But can the idea of animal be thought by itself alone? It, +as well as the idea of reason, must have a content; that is, each must +be connected with other ideas, without which it would be deprived of all +consistency. + +And so the mind that begins to think one single idea is compelled, +almost dragged, to pass on to another, then to a third, and so on +indefinitely. It finds itself in the condition of the man who tried to +grasp a single link of a chain, just one, and found that he could not +have it except on condition of taking the whole chain. So it is with +ideas. We may not be capable of encompassing all of them in one single +thought; but whenever we try to fix any one of them in our mind, it +presents itself to us as a knot in which many other ideas are +interlaced, twisted, and entangled. They form an infinite chain, in +which it is not possible to think the first link or the last one, +because the beginning is welded to the end, and we turn and turn and +never reach the last. Is not this the nature of the ideas as we see +them, as they constitute the field from which we must harvest all our +possible thoughts? + +Ideas are not, therefore, a true multiplicity, because they are not +things, either material or ideal, and because they do not occupy any +space whatsoever. Our imagination may present them to us as so many +lights of an ideal sky; but our intelligence warns us that they cannot +be separated one from the other and placed side by side. As I have +already said: when we think one, we think them all. Or in any event we +should, if we had mastered all that there is to be known. So that to our +thought ideas appear as constituting one unique whole, a unity, that +something which we call science, truth, knowledge. They are not a +multitude, for the simple reason that in multiplicity they would be +unthinkable. Their connection with and participation in an absolute +unity come from the fact that they are the object of thought, and are +therefore submitted to its activity, whereby they are ordered, +correlated, organised, unified. In order that we may say that one idea +contains another, or many others, we must analyse this first idea and +define it. This first idea must be distinguished from the others, and +they likewise among themselves. It is not therefore sufficient to say +that there are these ideas, motionless, inert, lifeless, as they +necessarily would be if they existed _per se_, as objects of mere +possible contemplation. There must also be some one to analyse them, +define them, and distinguish them. It is not enough to have the material +of thought, we need thought also to mould and fashion this material, +turn it effectively into thought stuff, reduce it to something +susceptible of being thought. Ideas as things would in no way be related +among themselves. But they do have that relationship which is generated +by thought as it thinks them. Thought generates this relationship not as +a fixed one, as would be the case if it were inherent in the things +themselves; but as a relationship which is being formed by degrees, and +which is continuously changing and developing. No ideal, abiding +science, existing only as the object of a vague phantasy, can therefore +result from this relationship. It constitutes instead a science which is +ever re-formed and is never formed; it gives to the ideas an ever +renewed aspect: it matures them, elaborates them, perfects them, by +concentrating on each one of them the constantly increasing light of the +system into which it closely binds them. + +Ideas, then, as we really think them, are not a minutely fractioned and +scattered multiplicity. Nor are they a mass of concurrent elements. They +are Thought as it becomes articulate, and gains distinctness by these +many Limbs, by these ideas, which exist, all of them, in the process by +which they are gradually formed, developed, and complicated, and arrayed +in an order which is constantly being renewed and which is never +definitely perfected. + +There are not then many ideas; there is one Idea, which is Thought. Only +in a metaphorical sense can we consider them as things; and, properly +speaking, they are the human person itself as actualised in thought, +which is busily occupied in the construction of knowledge. They are an +indivisible unity, in which each idea is found collaborating with every +other one so as to answer the questions which Thought constantly +propounds. They are the human person, not the persons; for we have +already concluded that only in an abstract sense is it possible to speak +of many persons; concretely there is but one universal Person which is +not multiplicable. + +There are not, then, going back to our original division, persons and +things, material and spiritual. At the most there is one person, Man, +and there are the material things which constitute this nature, as it +occupies space, and in which we too believe we have a place, in as much +as we consider ourselves beings of nature. Nothing beyond this can be +conceived: on one side a sole immultiplicable reality, on the other a +manifold reality, indefinitely divisible. + +Here we might perhaps stop considering the special interest that called +forth this inquiry. For no one could possibly suppose for a moment that +culture could be placed in the midst of material things rather than in +the spiritual reality which is a person. However, since the intimate +nature of this spiritual reality which we call culture is not yet +clearly revealed, we must continue our investigations, and give more +attention to this division which for a moment we thought might be final. +I mean the division of the world into persons and things: the equipoise +of spirit and matter. + +Do we really _think_ this matter as we say we do, and which we believe +we are justified in opposing to the spirit, in as much as the spirit is +unity or universality, and matter, in its entirety, in every one of its +parts, in everything, is an indefinite multiplicity? Matter can in truth +be thought only on condition that it be possible to think multiplicity, +that pure multiplicity which is the characteristic quality of matter. + +What then is the meaning of multiplicity? In absolute terms we call +multiple that which consists of elements each one of which is quite +independent of all the others, and absolutely devoid of any and every +relationship with them. The materialist conceived the world as an +aggregate of atoms, separated one from the other and having no +reciprocal relevance of any sort whatsoever. In the world of pure +quantity, which is the same as absolute multiplicity, mathematical +science claims the knowledge of units indifferent to their nexus, and +therefore susceptible of being united and separated, of being summed up +and divided, without any alteration taking place within the individual +unit itself. Numerical units are therefore pre-eminently irrelative. + +But the concept itself of the multiplicity of irrelative elements is an +absurd one. In order that we may conceive many unrelated elements we +must, to start with, be able to conceive a couple of such elements. Let +us take A and B, absolutely unrelated, and such that the concept of one +will contain nothing of the other's, and will therefore exclude it from +itself. If A did not so exclude B, something of B would be found in A, +and we could no longer speak of the two elements as irrelative. +Irrelativity means reciprocal exclusion, a capacity by which each term +is opposed to the other, and prevents the other from having anything in +common with it. Without this reciprocal action whereby each term turns +to the other and excludes it from itself, establishing itself as a +negation of it, there would be no irrelativity. But this action by which +each term is referred to the other so as to deny it, what is it but a +relationship? Every effort therefore tending to break up reality into +parts completely repugnant amongst themselves, mutually excluding one +another, and therefore reciprocally indifferent, results in the very +opposite of what was intended, viz.: the relative in place of the +irrelative, unity instead of multiplicity. + +Neither duality nor multiplicity is conceivable without that unity +whereby the two engender that whole in which the two units are +connected, even though they mutually exclude one another: without that +unity which fuses and unifies every multiplicity determined in a number, +which correlates among themselves the units which constitute the number. +We could strip multiplicity of all unity only by not thinking it. But +then in the gloom of what is not thought, multiplicity truly enough +would not be unity, but it would not even be multiplicity, because it +could not be anything at all. Or, if we prefer, it would be absolutely +unthinkable. + +Thought then establishes relationships among the units of the multiple, +and thus constitutes them as the units of the manifold, and as forming +multiplicity. It adds and divides, composes and decomposes, and +variously distributes, materialising and dematerialising, so to speak, +the reality which it thinks. For it materialises the reality when it +conceives it as manifold: but it can conceive it as such only by +unifying it, and therefore by dematerialising it and reabsorbing it into +its own spiritual substance. + +Matter is a manifold reality, without unity. What it is we already have +seen: a material reality, and as such divisible into parts, placed in +the world in the midst of a congeneric multitude. Now, since pure +multiplicity is not conceivable except on condition that we abstract +from that relationship to which the reciprocal exclusiveness of manifold +elements is reduced, it is evident that matter and things are abstract +entities. Thought stops to consider them, and regards them as existent, +only because it withdraws the attention from that part of itself which +it contributes to the making of the object represented. Thought +therefore prescinds from that unity which material things could not by +themselves contain, but from which it is impossible to prescind +absolutely unless we wish to be reduced to an absurd conception. + +Objective things then, the world of matter itself which we are wont to +oppose in equipoise to the person, are in truth not separable from it. +For matter has its foundation in thought by which the personality is +actualised. Things are what we in our own thought counterpose to +ourselves who think them. Outside of our thought they are absolutely +nothing. Their material hardness itself has to be lent to them by us, +for it ultimately is to be resolved into multiplicity, and multiplicity +implies spiritual unity. + +This then is the world: an infinity of things all of which have however +their root in us. Not in "us" as we are represented ordinarily in the +midst of things; not in the empirical and abstract "us" which feeds the +vanity of the empty-headed egoist, of him who has not the faintest +notion of what he really is, who can therefore think of himself only as +enclosed within the tight husk of his own flesh and of his particular +passions. No! they are rooted in that true "us" by which we think, and +agree in one same thought, while thinking all things, including +ourselves as opposed to things. And he who fails to reach this profound +source, this root from which all reality receives its vitalising sap, +may indeed get a blurred glimpse of a blind, inert, material mechanism, +but he cannot even fix and determine this mechanism. He cannot upon +further reflection stop at the conviction that it is in truth, as it +appears in semblance, something real, for it reveals itself to him as so +absurd as to become unthinkable. The world then is in us; it is our +world, and it lives in the spirit. It lives the very life of that person +which we strive to realise, sometimes satisfied with our work, but +oftener unsatisfied and restless. And there is the life of culture. + +It is not possible to conceive knowledge otherwise than as living +knowledge, and as the extolment of our own personality. This is our +conclusion. We shall, later on, derive from it two corollaries that are +very important for teachers, in as much as they bear directly on the +problems of education. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [2] _I Promessi Sposi_ ("The Betrothed"). + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ATTRIBUTES OF CULTURE + + +From the concept of the spirituality of culture, we derive all the +fundamental propositions of pedagogy. But in as much as this conception +of culture coincides with that of personality, or of the spirit, it is +evident that all the fundamental propositions of the philosophy of the +spirit are also derived from it. In fact, we separate pedagogy from the +philosophy of the spirit only because of didactic convenience. To +determine, then, the attributes of culture, by which education becomes +actual, we have but to consider the nature of the spirit and endeavour +to define its attributes. This way we must follow if we are ever to +acquire a thorough comprehension of the principles of the several +theories of education, principles which are but the laws immanent to the +life of education itself in its effective development. + +The assertion that "culture is the human spirit" means nothing unless we +first define this spirit and understand its attributes. We cannot +possess a concept which is not determined; and the determinations of a +concept are the constituent attributes of the reality which we strive to +conceive, and which is not thinkable if deprived of any of these +attributes. The following example, appropriate even though trite, will +make my meaning clearer. Physical bodies cannot be conceived without +also conceiving gravity. Gravity is then an attribute of the physical +body, and as such it determines the concept of it. In the same way, to +conceive the spirit is to embrace with thought the concepts which are +absolutely inseparable from the concept of the spirit. + +This inquiry into the nature of the attributes of culture, though it +constantly progresses towards a satisfactory solution, yet seems at +times to be losing ground on account of the ever-increasing difficulties +that beset its advance. It is true, no doubt, that human thought, driven +by the irresistible desire to know itself, has made some headway towards +mastering the concept of itself. Philosophy has indeed progressed, and +the modern world can proudly point to truths unsuspected by the thinkers +of antiquity. But the assiduous and prolonged toil of thought engaged in +this task has at all moments disclosed new difficulties; it has ever +been busy sketching new concepts which subsequently prove immature and +in need of further elaboration, and has been pushing its investigations +to such depths as to make it difficult to follow its lead without +sometimes going astray, without frequently stopping in utter weariness +at the roadside. + +Men talk learnedly nowadays of the human spirit, but with a doctrine +which is often insufficient or, as we say, not up to date. They have +stopped at one of those wayside concepts where thought no doubt passed +and temporarily halted, but from which it moved on towards a more +distant goal. For while this long history of the endeavours by which man +struggles onward towards the understanding of his own nature is the +basis on which modern philosophy builds its firm concept of the spirit, +yet for those who have not attained the vantage ground of this modern +philosophy, this history is unfortunately a very intricate maze; it is +the bewildering + + "selva selvaggia ed aspra e forte"[3] + +from which it is difficult ever to issue. And therefore it is much +easier, as Dante once remarked, to teach those who are completely +ignorant than those who have a smattering of philosophy. But to-day +culture is so intimately connected with philosophical speculation that +the greater part of educated men profess this or that system without +being aware of it. And when such men do take up the study of philosophy +_per se_, they no longer possess the mental ingenuousness, the +speculative candour, which would enable them to grasp the obvious, +evident, incontrovertible truth of the most profound philosophical +proposition. + +This inquiry then is difficult. It demands either a long, methodic, +laborious study of the history of philosophy conducted with critical +vigour, or that unyielding tenacity of the mind which is the surest sign +of sound spiritual character; that steadfast firmness by which man, once +in possession of a clearly irrefutable, truly fundamental truth, +rigorously excludes from his soul all the allurements of prejudice, all +convictions formerly entertained, even though extremely plausible, if +they contradict his Truth. For he trusts that these perplexities, these +difficulties which he is not now in condition to explain, will be +removed in virtue of that very thought to which he has confidently +committed himself. + +This unflinching resolve is the courage of the philosopher, who has +never feared to brave common sense, and single-handed to marshal against +the multitude the array of his seemingly absurd assertions, which +however, in the progress of their reciprocal integrations, have +subsequently contributed to redeem this very multitude from error,--from +that error which is intellectual misery, social wretchedness, economic, +political, and moral destitution. Because of this inflexible firmness +the philosopher has never dreaded that boundless solitude, that thin +atmosphere to which he is uplifted by thought, and where at first he has +the sensation of fainting away into the rarefied air. + +We must then muster up courage and relinquish all the ideas which we +once accepted, even though they still tempt us with superficial +glitterings of truth, when once they have proved themselves to be in +contradiction with experience. For I too hold experience to be the +touchstone of all our thoughts, philosophy not excluded. But I insist +that we be careful lest we confound the mockery of the first puppet that +dupes our imagination with genuine experience; that in as much as every +man speaks of experience in exclusive accordance with whatever concept +he has been able to form of it, we too determine beforehand what our +conception of it is. Now I say that no concept of experience can be +validly entertained which does not take into account that truth which +presents itself to us as truly fundamental and therefore to be used as +an indispensable basis for all subsequent conceptual constructions. + +Such fundamental truth we have previously attained when we established +that "We" are not what we seem to be in the dim empirical representation +of our personality, a thing among things. Our "Self" is the deeper one +by means of which we see all things in whose midst our other self too is +discernible. The reality of this, our deeper "self" which cannot be +conceived as a thing, without which nothing can be conceived, in the +same way that the trunk, the branches, and the boughs are not possible +without the root from which the tree issues, is a truth which we may +never grasp, but if we do, we shall forever be compelled to see in it +the source of all other possible truths, including the concept of +experience. For once we have securely mastered it, we will be convinced +that it is impossible to conceive whatever is considered and thought of +as constituting this world otherwise than as this world which _we_ see, +which _we_ touch, and which, in short, we look upon as the contents of +_our_ experience: and that it is also impossible to conceive this +experience without referring it to _us_ who have it not as an object of +possession but as an activity which we exercise. So that nothing, +absolutely nothing, can be thought when the relationship between things +and experience, and again the rapport between experience and ourselves +is obtained, without thinking the deep reality of this our "self." We +may again close our eyes to this reality or hold it in abeyance, but we +can do so only after we have effaced every notion of the two +relationships just mentioned, and when we again have immersed ourselves +in the mystery of things, in the gloom of their apparent independent +existence, of their ever self-defeating multiplicity. + +Against this reality of the profound "us" which is the genuine spiritual +reality, there are innumerable and awe-inspiring difficulties. They are +difficulties that so violently oppress our minds and our hearts as to +dismay us, and almost force us to give up this concept of a reality on +which all other realities depend, and which cannot but be one alone, and +infinite, and really universal.[4] Alone, because in it all opposites +must coincide: the good and the evil, what is true and what is false, +life and death, peace and war, pleasure and pain, yours and mine,--all +things, in short, that we have been obliged to sunder and distinguish in +order to take our bearings and meet the exigencies of life. Formidable +difficulties indeed! And they are the problems of philosophy. It would +be childish and senseless to dispose of them by ignoring that concept +from which they derive. It is the philosopher's task, it is the strict +duty of human thought to face the problems as they rise out of the +positions which it has captured in its onward march. For to yield +ground, to turn the back to a truth which has been demonstrated to be +indispensable, that is impossible. + +Those who wish to orient themselves in the world to-day must, before +all, cling to this: that the basis of every thinkable reality is our +spiritual reality, one, infinite, universal,--the reality which unites +us all in one sole spiritual life; the reality in which teacher and +pupils meet when by their reciprocal comprehensions they constitute a +real school. + +What then is this one, infinite, universal reality? Is this question +truly unanswerable as it seems to be, as it has often in the past +been declared to be? For, it has been argued, in order to give an +answer, whether here or elsewhere, we must somehow think the reality +to which the answer is referred. We must think it and therefore +distinguish it from all the others, and so presuppose it as one +existing among many and as forming with them a multiplicity; and this is +the very opposite of that reality which we are striving to think. +Or, in other words, when we try to say what the subject is, we must, +somehow, set it as the object, and thus convert it into what is the +opposite of the subject. Or again: the subject cannot think itself, +because if it did, it would split into the duality of itself as +thinking and itself as thought, and what is thinking is not what is +thought. But all these objections together with many others of the +same force that are ordinarily raised against radical idealism have but +one single defect; which is such, however, as to make it hopeless for +the idealist ever to succeed in being understood by those that resort +to this kind of argument. These opponents, strangely enough, miss the +most elementary meaning of the terms with which they claim to be +familiar. They fail to see that when the idealist says "subject," he +cannot possibly mean by it one abstract term of the relationship +_subject-object_, which, because of this very abstractness, is +devoid of all consistency. The _ego_ is called "subject," because it +contains within itself an object which is not diverse but identical +with it. As a pure subject it is already a relationship; it is +self-affirmation and therefore affirmation of an object, but of an +object, be it remembered, in which the subject is not alienated from +itself; by which, rather, it truly returns to itself, embraces itself, +and thus originatively realises itself. In order to be _I_, I must +know myself, I must set my own self in front of myself. Only thus I am +I, a personality, and "subject," the centre of my world or of my +thought. For if I should not objectify myself to myself, if in the +endeavour to free myself completely from all objectivity, I were to +retreat into the first term,--a purely abstract one,--of this +relationship by which I posit myself, I should remain on the hither side +of this relationship, that is of that very reality in which I am to +realise myself. So then by this inner objectification the subject +does not at all depart from itself. It rather enters into its own +subjectivity, and constitutes it. Surely man may, Narcissus-like, +make an idol of his own self: he may worship himself in a fixed +semblance already determined and crystallised. But in so doing, he +materialises himself, makes his person into a thing, looks away from +his true spiritual life, misses self-consciousness, averts his thought +from his own intimate being. This self-conversion from person into +thing takes place, not when we think of ourselves, but rather when we +fail to do so. + +Philosophy then, as the thinking of the Spirit in its absolute +subjectivity, is the Spirit's own life. For the spirit lives by +constituting itself as the ego, and it does this by thinking itself, by +acquiring consciousness of itself. And while philosophising then, we +cannot but ask what is this one infinite universal reality which is our +_Self_ and is called the spirit. We cannot dispense with this inquiry +into the attributes of the spirit, which is at the same time the inquiry +into the attributes of culture. + +The examination of the possibility of this investigation has carried us, +without our being aware of it, into the very midst of the inquiry +itself. For what we considered as an elementary meaning of the word +"spirit," the _ego_, which is not something in unrelated immediacy, but +which constitutes itself, posits itself, realises itself in that it +thinks itself and becomes self-consciousness,--this is also the ultimate +characteristic which can be assigned to the spirit, or to man himself, +that is, to what in man is essentially human. If we examine all the +other differences that have been assigned or could be found by which the +spirit is distinguishable from things, we shall find, after due +reflection, that they all cease to have a real meaning as soon as we +neglect the most profound characteristic of spiritual reality, viz., +that this reality is generated by virtue of consciousness. Every form of +reality other than spiritual, not only is presented to thought as not +conditioned by consciousness, but seems to afford no possibility of +being thought (in relation to consciousness) otherwise than as +conditioning this very consciousness. And when we say of the spiritual +being that it does not know what it is, that it is not acquainted with +itself, that it therefore remains concealed from itself, we conceive +then its spiritual being in a manner analogous to that by which we +conceive material or bodily being,--externally visible, but internally +unknown. And we say that the individual fails to grasp his own moral +nature, because in fact we make this moral being into something natural, +similar to that which is attributed to each one of the things that the +spirit sets in opposition to itself. + +But the spirit has no nature of its own, no destiny to direct its +course, no predetermined inevitable lot. It has no fixed qualities, no +set mode of being, such as constitute, from the birth to the death of an +individual, the species to which it belongs, to whose law it is +compelled by nature to submit, whose tyrannical limits and bounds he can +never trespass. The spirit, we have seen, cannot but be conceived as +free, and its freedom is this privileged attitude to be what it wants +to,--angel or beast, as the ancients said; good or evil, true or false, +or, generally speaking, to be or not to be. To be or not to be +man,--the spirit, that which he is, and which he would not be if he did +not _become_. + +Man is not man by virtue of natural laws. He _becomes_ man. By man I do +not mean an animal among animals, held to no accounting of his deeds, +who comes into the world, grows, lives, and dies, unaware. Man from the +time he considers himself such, and in so far as he considers himself +such, _becomes_ through his own efforts. He makes himself what he is the +first time he opens his eyes on his inner consciousness and says +"_I_,"--the "I" which never would have been uttered, had he not been +aroused from the sluggish torpor of natural beings (such as our phantasy +represents them) and had not started thinking under his own power and +through his own determination. + +This freedom which is man's prerogative offers merely an external view, +has a very hazy consistency, and appears as something illusory, only +because we do not define it exclusively as autonomous becoming or +self-making. For in fact "becoming" is ordinarily understood in a way +which does not admit of being considered as man's prerogative. Does not +every living being _become_? The plant vegetates only because it too has +an inborn potency by which it is forced from one stage of development to +the next, from which in this process it acquires the mode of being which +is peculiarly its own, which it did not have before, which no other +being could from the outside have conferred upon it. And yet the plant +is not a person but a thing: it is not spirit, but a simple object, and +as such it is endowed with a definite nature and moved by a definite +law, which is the very antithesis of the freedom which is peculiar to +the spirit. + +I might without further thought say that this conception of becoming, +referred to the plant as a plant, is improper, that in reality the plant +does not _become_ for the very reason that we deny it its freedom. But I +shall begin by stating that the becoming which we attribute to the +spiritual reality must be specified and determined with greater +accuracy, if we are to consider it as the characteristic of this +reality. When so specified and determined, it will be found to coincide +with the conception of freedom. Becoming, then, can be taken in two +ways, which for brevity's sake we shall call the _autonomous_ and the +_heteronomous_. That is, the being which becomes may have the law of its +becoming either in itself or outside of itself. Becoming covers such +cases as, for example, the filling of a vessel into which a liquid is +poured. But this becoming takes place in a manner which has its law in +the person that fills the vessel; and the filling therefore may be +considered not so much a becoming as the effect of a becoming, that is, +as the result of that act which is being performed by man. An +heteronomous becoming is to be traced back to the becoming of the cause +which produces it. The plant vegetates, and its vegetation is a +development, a becoming. But could it grow without the rays of the sun, +the moisture of the soil? The plant vegetates in consequence of its +nature, that nature which in accord with our ordinary way of considering +plant life it possessed from the time it was a green blade just +sprouting; nay, from the time it was a seed in the ground, or rather +when it was as yet in the plant that produced the seed, or better still +when it was in its infinitely remote origin. It is evident therefore +that we cannot think of the law of becoming as residing, so to speak, +within a given plant. Whether we call it nature or name it God, this law +transcends the becoming of the plant, its heteronomous becoming as we +called it, and is properly the becoming of something else. But the +becoming of man is autonomous. If he _becomes_ intelligent, that is, if +he understands, he does so through a principle which is intrinsically +his own; for no man can be made to comprehend what he himself will not +grasp. If he becomes good, his perfected will can in no manner +whatsoever be considered as determined by an outside cause, without at +the same time being thereby deprived of all that is characteristic of +goodness. + +But in stating that man's becoming is autonomous (or true) we have +simply formulated a problem without giving it a solution. What does this +autonomous becoming consist in? Simply to notice its existence would +never help us to understand it. Every fact is intelligible only as an +effect of a cause. And a cause is a cause on condition that it be a +thing other than the effect. In order to understand the autonomous +becoming or freedom of the spirit, we must not consider it as a fact, +that is, as something done. A thing made presupposes the making; and +from the deed we must rise to the doing, but to a doing which shall not +itself be a thing done, a fact, and similar therefore to the doings +which we witness as mere spectators. The doing in which our autonomous +becoming is detected is that one of which _We_ are not spectators but +actors, we the spectators of every other doing, we as the thinking +Activity. + +This then is the becoming which rigorously may be called autonomous: the +one which we know not as spectators but as actors, which comes forth as +that reality which is produced by the act of knowing, and therefore is +not known because it exists, but exists because it is known,--our +existence. It is the existence of us who know, for example, that a==b, +and who are such only in so far as we know and are conscious of knowing +that a==b,--of us who suffer or rejoice, and who cannot be in this or +that state except by knowing it, so that no cause could reduce us to +such a state, unless we were conscious of such a cause and felt its +valid application to us,--of us, above all, who are not ourselves unless +we apperceive ourselves, by reflecting upon ourselves, and thus +acquiring existence as a personality, as human self-consciousness, as +thought. Thought in opposition to nature, with which it is constantly +contrasted, is nothing but this self-reflection which establishes the +personality, and that reality which, absolutely, is not, but becomes. +Every reality other than thought _becomes_ relatively; and its becoming +is intelligible simply as the effect of another becoming. Only thought, +only the Spirit, is absolute becoming, and its becoming is its liberty. + +But whether it be called "freedom" or "becoming," the important thing is +to avoid the mistake, which was general in the past and is still very +common to-day, of separating this attribute of the spirit from the +spirit itself, thus failing to understand exactly what is properly +called the attribute. For example, we say that the triangle is a +three-sided plane figure, and we seem to be able to distinguish and +therefore to separate logically the idea of _triangle_ from the idea of +_three-sided plane figure_. But a little reflection will make it evident +that in thinking the idea of triangle, we think nothing unless we at +least think the plane trilateral figure. So that we do not really have +two ideas, which however closely connected may yet be separated to be +conjoined again: what we have is one single idea. And such is the +agreement of the becoming and of the spirit, and in general of every +attribute and of the reality to which it belongs. When we begin +inquiring whether the spirit is free or not, we set out on an erroneous +track which will take us into a blind alley with no possibility of exit. +All the unsurmountable difficulties encountered at all times by the +advocates of the doctrine of freedom arise in fact from the error of +first thinking the spirit (or whatsoever that reality may be for which +freedom is claimed) and of subsequently propounding the question of its +properties. For the spirit is _free_ in as much as it is nothing else +than _freedom_; and the spirit "becomes" in as much as it is nothing +else than "becoming," and this becoming cannot therefore be considered +as the husk enveloping the kernel--the spirit. There is no kernel to the +spirit: it is in no manner comparable to a moving body in which the body +itself could be distinguished from motion, and would admit therefore of +being thought as in a state of rest even though rest is considered +impossible. The spirit, continuing our simile and correcting it, is +motion without a mass,--a motion surely that cannot be represented to +our imagination, for the very reason that motion is peculiar to the body +and does not belong to the spirit; and imagination is the thought of +bodies, and not of the thought which thinks the bodies. This idea of +motion without a mass, baffling as it is to our imagination, is perhaps +the most effective warning that can be given to those who wish to fix in +their minds the exact concept of the nature of the spirit. In order to +avoid new terminology not sufficiently intelligible and therefore +unpractical, we may resort to material expressions, and speak of the +nature of the spirit as of a "thing" which becomes, and use such words +as "kernel" and "husk." But we must never lose sight of the fact that +this manner of speaking, which is appropriate for things, is not +suitable for the spirit, and can be resorted to only with the +understanding that the spirit is not a thing, and that therefore its +whole being consists solely in its becoming. + +We are now in a position to understand the meaning of the spirituality +of culture, that is, of the reduction of culture to the human +personality obtained in the preceding chapter, as well as the +pedagogical interest of this reduction. Culture, as the entire content +of education, because it must be sought within the personality, and +because it resolves itself into the life of the spirit, is not a thing, +and does not admit of being conceived statically either in books or in +the mind: not before nor after it is apprehended. It does not exist in +libraries or in schools, or in us before we go to school, or while we +still remain within its walls, or after our nourished minds have taken +leave of it. It is in no place, at no time, in no person. Culture _is +not_, because if it _were_, it would have to be some "thing," whereas by +definition it is the negation of that which is capable of being anything +whatever. It is culture in so far as it _becomes_. Culture exists as it +develops, and in no other manner. It is always in the course of being +formed, it _lives_. + +But to understand this _life_, and in order to grasp more firmly this +"idea" of culture which is a spiritual banner to rally educators, I +must again bring up a certain distinction. Culture, I said, lives +(that is, it is culture) when it is endowed with a life that is +entirely different from the life which biologically animates all +living beings, ourselves included. The difference can be stated as +follows: in the case of every other life, we can assert its existence +in so far as we have knowledge of it either directly or indirectly. It +is always, however, different from us and from our knowing it; so +much so that the possibilities of going astray are very great. But +for the life of culture, which is the life of our spirit, we have no +need of being informed by the experience of others, or even of +ourselves. We live it. It is our very thought,--this thought which +may indeed err in respect to what is different from itself, as not +tallying with it; but which cannot possibly deceive us in regard to +itself, since it is unable not to be itself. The life of culture is +not a spectacle but an activity. Nor is it activity for some and a +spectacle for others. Culture is never a show for any one. No person can +ever know for his fellow being. What, for me, Aristotle knows, is +what I know of Aristotle. + +Culture,--this untiring activity which never for a moment turns into a +spectacle for any of us, which ever therefore demands effort and +toil,--could not avoid becoming a show and being made up into a +"thing," could not escape the danger of dying as culture by degenerating +into something anti-spiritual, fruitless, and material, if, while yet +being activity, it were not at the same time in some way a spectacle to +itself. This point demands careful consideration. It is not sufficient +to say that culture, that thought is life, and not the thought of life. +We will not attain the conception of culture by merely contrasting, as +we have done, our life, the life we lead as actors, with the life of +others which we behold as spectators, or by opposing the life of +ourselves as thinking beings to the life we possess as organic beings, +to the life of our senses by which we are on a par with the other +animals. The life of thought, in its peculiar inwardness and +subjectivity, is still conceived to-day by powerful thinkers, by analogy +with life in a biological sense, as irreflective and instinctive, or, as +they say, as simple intuition. But thought which though living is +irreflective becomes indeed an active performance, a drama without +spectators, but it also remains as a drama represented for spectators +who are absent, and who should be informed of those things which direct +experience had not placed before their eyes. And it is difficult to +surmise who would impart to them this information if the house were +empty. + +In other words, I mean to say that this would-be intuitive life of +thought, fading away into the subconscious, melting into the naturality +of the unconscious, is, like every form of natural life effectually a +stranger to thought (that is _conceived_ as a stranger to thought), an +object and nothing more than an object of thought, and therefore +incapable of ever being a subject, of ever having value as subject, that +is, as thought itself. For that reason we can never effectively think +it; for never can we truly think any thing which is natural and thought +of as natural. Who can say what the life of the plant is? To posit +nature by thought is to posit something irreducible to thought and +therefore unthinkable. This perhaps would not necessarily be a serious +drawback for the life itself of thought if we lived it. For would it not +be sufficient to live it? Why insist on _thinking_ its life? Why demand +a head, so to speak, as a hood for the head? But there is a drawback, +and a serious one, as a result of the fact that this life itself of +thought does not now, never will in the future, come before us as that +irreflective life which it is claimed to be: it comes to us as a +philosophy which recommends it and advocates it as the only possible +life of thought. In fact, in order to be able to speak of this life, we +must first think it. But how could we think it, if the only possible +life was that one which we intend to think, and not the one with which +we think this irreflective life? + +So then, in order that this life of ours (truly, intimately, spiritually +ours) may not be confounded with the life of natural things, with that +pseudo-life which is only an apparent becoming, an effect of another +becoming by which it is transcended, it is not sufficient, as I started +out to say, to call it a drama and not a spectacle. As a result of more +careful determinations we may now say that it is not another man's +spectacle, but our drama which is at the same time our spectacle too. In +it the actors play to themselves. It is self-conscious activity. It is +activity perpetually watching over itself. + +And again: Just as the becoming of the spirit would cease to be that one +sole becoming which it actually is, were we to distinguish the spirit +from its becoming, so the consciousness of spiritual activity would also +become unintelligible if we were to distinguish, as philosophers +insistently do, between activity and awareness, between the performance +and the show. The distinction here too arises from referring to the +spirit, the mode of thinking which is suited for the thinking of things. +In the sphere of things, doing is one thing, watching the thing as it is +done is another. But to us the spirit's becoming has shown itself to be +the very negation of this distinction between actor and spectacle, so +that in saying that the actor is his own spectator we cannot introduce, +within the unity in which we had taken refuge, the dualism which is +excluded from the concept of the spirit. I have spoken of "motion +without mass," turning a deaf ear to the claims of our imagination. Now +I shall add something that clashes even more violently against the laws +which govern our image-making; and I shall do so in order to make it +very clear that the spirit does not live in the world of things which is +swept over by our imagination. I shall now call the spirit a gazing +motion. The spirit's acting--its eternal process, its immanent +becoming--is not an escort to thinking, but the very thinking itself, +which is neither cause nor effect: neither the antecedent nor the +consequent, nor yet the concomitant of the action by which the spirit +goes on constantly impersonating itself. _It is this very acting._ + +In accordance with the popular point of view which, as I have said, is +shared by great philosophers, a distinction is made between the spirit +considered as will and the spirit regarded as intellect, or as +consciousness, or as thought, or whatever term may be used to indicate +the becoming aware of this spiritual activity. But if the spirit in that +it wills did not also think, we should be thrust back to the position +which we have shown above to be untenable, and be forced to admit that +the irreflective life of the spirit cannot be fused with the reflective +life, and is therefore unaccountable and unthinkable. The will which +_qua_ will is not also thought, is in respect to thought which knows it +a simple object, a spectacle and not a drama. It is nature and not +spirit. And a thought which _qua_ thought is not will, is, in respect +to the will which integrates it, a spectator without a spectacle. If +there is to be a drama, and a drama which is the spirit, it is +inevitable that the will be the thought, and that the thought be the +will, over and beyond that distinction which serves if anything to +characterise the opposition between nature and spirit. + +Should we, returning to our comparison, demand of that motion which is +spirit a moving mass; should we, grounded on the naive and primitive +conception which identifies knowing with the seeing of external things, +demand within the sphere of the spiritual activity itself a doing in +which knowing should find its object all ready made, we should continue +to wander helplessly in the maze of things, and to grope in the mystery +of the multiplicity of things, which are many and yet are not many. We +would be turning our eyes away from the lode star which is the supreme +concept of the spirit, and thereby show ourselves incapable of rising to +that point of view which is the peculiar one of culture. + +Culture, as the spirit's life, which is a drama and self-awareness, is +not simply effort and uneasy toil, it is not a tormenting restlessness +which we may sometimes shake off, from which we would gladly be rescued. +Nor is it a feverish excitement that consumes our life-blood and tosses +us restlessly on a sick-bed. The spirit's life is not vexation but +liberation from care. For the greatest of sorrows, Leopardi tells us, +is _ennui_, the inert tedious weariness of those who find nothing to do, +and pine away in a wasting repose which is the very antithesis of the +life of the spirit. The negation of this life,--the obstacles, the +hindrances, the halts it encounters,--that is the source of woe. But +life with its energy is joy; it is joy because it is activity, our +activity. Another man's activity as the negation of our own is +troublesome and exasperating. The music which we enjoy (and we are able +to enjoy it by being active) is our enjoyment. But the musical +entertainment in which we have no part disturbs us, interferes with our +work, irritates us. Our neighbour's joys in which for some reason we are +unable to participate awaken envy in us, gall us, bring some manner of +displeasure to our hearts. + +Culture, then, as life of the spirit, is effort, and work, but never a +drudgery. It would be toilsome labour if the spirit had lived its life +before we began to work; if this life had blossomed forth, and had +realised itself without our efforts. But our effort, our work is this +very life of the spirit, its nature, in which culture develops. Work is +not a burdensome yoke on our will and on our personality. It is +liberation, freedom, the act by which liberty asserts its being. Work +may sometimes appear irksome because the freedom of its movement is +checked by certain resistances which have to be overcome and removed. +But in such cases it is not work which vexes us, but rather its +opposite, sloth, against which it must combat. It follows then that the +more intensely we occupy ourselves, the less heavily we are burdened by +pain. For as our efforts redouble and the resistance is proportionately +reduced, the spirit, which perishes in enthralment, is enabled to live a +richer life. + +Culture then is the extolment of our being, the formation of our spirit, +or better, its liberation and its beatification. As the realisation of +the spirit's own nature, it is opposed to all suffering and is the +source of blissfulness. But it must not be regarded as the fated, +inevitable working out of an instinctive principle, or a natural law. +The building of a bird's nest, which is the necessary antecedent to +generation and reproduction, cannot be looked upon as work; and it is +fruitless to try to guess whether this act is a cause of pleasure to the +bird or a source of suffering. Instinct leads the individual to +self-sacrifice on behalf of the species. But not even this fact, vouched +for solely by external inferences, authorises us to conclude that the +fulfilment of an instinctive impulse is actually accompanied by pain. So +that it seems wiser to keep off this slippery surface of conjecture. It +will be sufficient to note here that an action prompted by instinct, +conceived as merely instinctive and thoroughly unconscious of the end to +which it is subservient, is in no way to be compared with man's work. +Human occupation is personality, will, consciousness. The animal does +not work. But culture we have said is work. For it is liberty, +self-formation, with no existence previous to the process; whereas the +laws which govern the development of natural being pre-exist before the +development itself. Culture exists only in so far as it is formed, and +it is constituted solely by being developed. And what is more, as we +shall see in the next chapter, culture does not even count on a +pre-existing external matter ready to receive its informing imprint. + +To conclude then: culture _is_ (in its becoming) only to the extent that +the cultivated man feels its worth, desires it, and realises it. It is a +value, but not in the sense that man first appreciates it and +subsequently looks for it and strives to actualise it. The value which +man assigns to culture is that which he gradually goes on ascribing to +_his_ own culture, and whose development coincides with the development +of his own personality. What we ought to want is exactly what we do +want; but we want just that which we ought to. The ideal, not the +abstract, inadequate, and false one, but the true ideal of our +personality, is that one toward whose realisation we are actually +working. And the ideal of our culture is that self-same one towards +which our busy person remains turned in the actuality of its becoming. +But work implies a programme, and spirit means "ideal;" and when we +speak of culture we signify thereby the value of culture, of a culture +which as yet is not but which must be. Life is the life of the spirit as +a duty,--as a life which we live, feeling all along that it is our duty +to live it, and that it depends on us whether it exists or not. And +culture could not re-enter as it does in the life of the spirit, if it +too were not a duty, that is, if it were not this culture to whose +development our personality is pledged. So interpreted, culture, far +from being a destiny to which we are bound, is the progressive triumph +of our very freedom. On these terms only, culture is a growth, and the +spirit a becoming. + +This attribute, which is an ethical one, is not added to the attribute +of Becoming any more than "becoming" was superadded to "freedom." For +just as Becoming develops the concept of freedom, so does the ethical +develop and accomplish the concept of becoming. Freedom is never true +liberty unless it is a process, an absolute Becoming; but Becoming can +only be absolute by being moral. And it is therefore impossible to speak +of learning which is not ethical. + +It has often been repeated for thousands and thousands of years that +knowledge is neither good nor bad; that it is either true or false. But +is the True a different category from the Good? Are they not rather one +sole identical category? Truth could be maintained in a place quite +distinct from the grounds of morality, only so long as the world clung +to that conception of truth which was the agreement of the subject with +an assumed external object. But now by truth we understand the value of +thought in which the subject becomes an object to itself and thus +realises itself; and in clarifying this new conception of truth, we +discover that morality is identical with it. For knowing is acting, but +an acting which being untrammelled conforms with an ideal--Duty. And in +this manner we explain to ourselves why the mysterious and inspired +voice of conscience has at all times admonished man to worship Truth +with that same intense earnestness, with those same scruples, with that +identical personal energy, which we devote to every phase of our moral +mission. The cult of truth is in fact what we otherwise call and +understand to be morality, namely, the formation of our personality, +which can be ours only by belonging to all men, and which, whether or +not ours, is not immediate, not a given personality, but rather one +which is intent on self-realisation, on that sacred and eternal task +which is the Good. + +If we now feel culture to be free, to be a process, and an ethical one +at that, we have succeeded in grasping its spirituality, and we are in a +position therefore to proceed with security on that way which opens +before the educator's eyes, as he intently goes about his work of +creation, or, if you so wish to call it, his task as a promoter of +culture. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [3] "Forest savage, rough, and stern."--Dante, _Inferno_, i. 5. + + [4] Many speak of the universal and say that they conceive this + universal as concrete and immanent. Few, however, effectively fix + their thought on that universality which alone is such, which + alone can be such, which has nothing outside of itself, not even + the particular, and which is ideal on condition that the idea to + which it belongs be reality itself in all its determinateness. And + so in speaking of "universal" and of "individual" we must remember + that the latter cannot be anything without being the former, since + indeed the universal is not a merely abstract idea, but reality, + the reality of thought. Therefore I have here used the expression + "really universal".--G. G. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE BIAS OF REALISM + + +Educators of the modern school are bent on transforming its methods and +institutions on the basis of the conception set forth in the previous +chapters. The subtle discussions required to make this conception clear +must have convinced the reader that this work of educational reform +could only succeed if preceded by such philosophical doctrines as have +recently been evolved in Italy and are now becoming the accepted faith +of the newer generation. To this new belief the school must be +converted, if it is ever going to conquer that freedom which has been +its constant aspiration, and which seems to be an indispensable +condition for its further growth. + +The faith of the modern man cleaves to a life conceived and directed +idealistically. He believes that life--true life--is man's free +creation; that in it, therefore, human aims should gain an ever fuller +realisation; and that these aims, these ends will not be attained unless +thought, which is man's specific force, extends its sway so as to +embrace nature, penetrate it, and resolve it into its own substance. He +believes that nature, thus turned into an instrument of thought, yields +readily to its will, not being _per se_ opposed or repugnant to the life +and activity of the spirit, but rather homogeneous and identical with +it. He believes, moreover, that this sway can only be obtained by +amplifying, strengthening, and constantly potentiating our human energy, +which means thinking, knowing, self-realising; and that self-realisation +is not possible unless it is free, unless it be rescued from the +prejudice of dependence upon external principles, and unless it affirms +itself as absolute infinite activity. This is the _Kingdom of Man_ +prophesied at the dawn of modern thought. This is the work which +science, art, religion, not less than political revolutions and social +reforms, have gradually been accomplishing and perfecting in the last +three hundred years. This new spiritual orientation has to a certain +extent influenced teaching; and though without a general programme of +substantial reforms, the ideal of education has been transformed along +idealistic lines. This transformation, strange to say, has been effected +in part by means of institutions which have arisen as a result of the +recent development of industrial life and of the corresponding +complexity in economic and social relations. These schools, because of +their names, seem to be quite removed from the idealistic tendencies of +modern civilisations. Whether they be called technical, business, or +industrial schools, they seem to be and are in fact the result of a +realistic conception of life. But such realism, we must remember, is +far from being opposed to our idealism, and should not be compared with +the realism which we have objected to. We should rather consider it as +the most effective demonstration of the idealistic trend of our times. +For these institutions are founded on the theory that knowledge +increases man's power in the world by enabling him to overcome the +obstacles by which nature, if ignored and unknown, would hinder the free +development of civilisation in general, and of those individuals in +particular in whom and through whom civilisation becomes actual. + +Realism, on the other hand, as the opposite of the idealistic conception +of life and culture, was shown to be based on a conception of reality +which exists totally outside of human thought and of the civilisation +which is produced by it,--of a reality existing _per se_ in such a way +that no end peculiar to man, no free human life, can be conceived which +will have the power of bending this reality toward itself, of resolving +it within itself. This realistic point of view is not different from the +outlook of the primitive man who, awed by the might of nature, kneels +submissively before its invisible power, which, he thinks, controls +these forces. It is the accepted belief of the naive and dreamy +consciousness of child-like humanity; but it is none the less a +conception which is opposed to the course constantly followed by +civilisation. Its dangers must be made very clear and its menace removed +from the path of its triumphant enemy. To overcome this realistic point +of view in the field of education is the duty of teachers, who must be +in a position to recognise it, and to track it into whatever hiding +places it may lurk. I intend therefore in this chapter to point out some +of the most notable realistic prejudices which, though still tolerated +by contemporary thought, ought to be definitely stamped out, if we are +really convinced of the spiritual character of culture and of its +essential attributes. + +I shall here bring up again a consideration which I touched upon in the +first chapter,--an idea which is the fundamental prejudice of the +realistic theory of education in its antagonism to the profound +exigencies of the free spiritual life which education should promote. I +mean the idea of Science (with a capital S),--that Science which is +imagined as towering over and above the men who toil and suffer, think +and struggle in quest of its light and of its force; that Science which +would be so beautiful, and majestic, and impressive, were it not for the +fact that it does not exist. This Science is looked upon as infallible, +without crises, without reverses, without vicissitudes of doctrines, +without parties, and without nationality,--without history in short; for +history is full of these baser occurrences; and men, without a single +exception, even the greatest of scientists, even the lofty geniuses that +have transformed or systematised knowledge, are all in some measure +prone to err. The exceptions which are adduced to contradict this +statement are so few, so limited by restrictions and by hair-splitting +distinctions, that we can hardly allow them; especially when we consider +that even granting the infallible oracular character of some men's +utterances, the fact remains that his listeners must undergo the process +of understanding him, and in so doing they may go astray. So that from +superhuman unfailing verities, we slip back instantly to human +fallibility. Infallible Science, then, is not known, cannot be known to +mankind; for the simple reason that we who constitute it are subject to +error, and being ourselves prone to fail, we expose science to the same +danger. If it does exist somewhere it surely is not in this world in +which we live, thinking, knowing, and--creating science. + +This mythical science, unsullied and incorruptible, segregated from all +possible intercourse with thought, ever soaring in the pure air of +divine essences, is yet the mother of a numerous offspring, the parent +of countless daughters as virginal and as infallible as the mother +herself. These are the particular sciences, bearing various names, but +all of them equally worthy of the distinction of the capital S in the +eyes of their realistic worshippers. + +This mythology is taught in the schools which too often are called, and +without any figurative meaning, the shrines of learning. Conceived as +divinely superlative, as something which, though revealed historically +by the successive discoveries of privileged minds, is none the less +sharply distinct from the history of humanity, science descends into the +school. There it manifests itself as human knowledge, and is +communicated to the youthful minds eager to ascend to the heaven of +truth. And so the school comes to be looked upon as a kind of temple, as +the Church where the inspired Word of the Sacred Books is read and +explained by those who have been chosen by the Divinity to act as its +interpreters, as preachers of the Faith. With this religious conception +of the school we connect the "mission" of the educator, whose task, when +not ridiculed and lampooned by the same scoffers who at all times have +jeered at the teachers of divinity, has been surrounded by a glamour of +religiosity. We see them encircled by that halo of distant respect which +we naturally connect with those who, acting as intermediaries between us +and the deity, are themselves transfigured and deified. + +The school then is looked upon as a temple in which the pupil receives +his spiritual bread. But not so the home which the boy must leave, that +he may satisfy his mysteriously innate craving for knowledge. Not so the +street, where the small boys gather, drawn together by the irresistible +need of pastime, by the sweet desire of frolicsome companionship, by the +unconscious yearning after spiritual communion with the world which +there makes its way into the child's mind far off from the classroom, +and lavishes upon it its own light, its portion of thought, its share of +new experiences, and the joy of an ever renewed outpouring of +sympathetic spirituality. + +The custodian of this temple, the schoolmaster, is regarded as a divine, +as the minister who imparts the consecrated elements of Science, who +leads the pupil to the "panem angelorum," as Dante calls it. But our +fathers and mothers are not so regarded,--they who were the first +custodians of a greater temple, the world, to whose marvels they +gradually initiated our growing minds; they who by the use of speech +taught us, without being aware of it, infinitely more than the best of +schools will ever be able to teach us in the future; not our elder +brothers to whom we always looked up in emulation, and from whom, even +more than from our parents, we learned the thoughts and the words suited +to our needs; not our grandmother, who long before our eager phantasy +might roam through the printed pages, gently led us into Fairyland, and +there, in the enchantments of a magic world, disclosed to us that +humanity which books and teachers later in life were to re-evoke for us. +No! There are no altars to Science except in the Schoolhouse, and none +but educators may minister to its cult. + +This mythological lore is not merely a harmless form of imagery, against +which it might be pedantic to rebel. It is a real superstition, which +has its roots deep down in the personality of the educator; it adheres +parasitically to culture, climbs over its sturdy trunk, drains its sap, +weakens it, deadens it. For when we have stripped this conception of +education of its mythological exterior, there yet remains a clearly +religious and realistic thought, which is professed with firm adhesion +of the mind and complete devotion of the soul, as the inviolable norm of +the whole activity which pertains to the object of this norm itself. Let +us, for example, consider what is presupposed by the doctrine of +methods, the so-called methodology, which is an important part of +didactics, and a very considerable section in the whole field of +pedagogics. The doctrine of methods comprises a general treatment, which +corresponds to what we called the Mother-Science, and a particular +treatment for the individual sciences. There is methodology of learning +in general, and there are methodics for the several disciplines, or at +least for each group of disciplines, into which learning is divided and +subdivided in accordance with the logical processes adopted in any +particular case, or in accordance with the objects of these disciplines. +To each method of knowing, considered in itself, corresponds a teaching +method, so that there is one general didactic method, and many special +ones by which the general method is to be applied. + +But what is the method of a science if not the logical scheme or the +form of a certain scientific knowledge? And, on the other hand, +what can be known as to the form of anything, unless we have the thing +itself before us in its form and with its contents? In order to define +the form of a science, and say, for example, that it is deductive in +mathematics and inductive in chemistry, we must first presuppose the +existence of these sciences themselves. But in them form is never +anything indifferent to content; it is the form of that content. This is +made clear if we consider the methodologies which logicians presume to +define in the abstract, and with no regard to the determined content of +the corresponding sciences. We notice that they are able to present a +successful exposition and formulation only by fixing the meaning of +each formula by the use of examples, thereby passing from the +abstract to the concrete, and showing the method to be within the +concrete knowing out of which logic presumes to extract it. In the same +way every philosophical system has its method; but whenever criticism +has endeavoured to fix abstractly the method of a system, in order +then to show how it has been applied in the construction of the +system itself, it has been forced in every case to admit that the +method already contained the system within itself, that it was the +system itself. So that it would have no value whatsoever, it could +not even be grasped by thought in its particular determinateness, if +it were not presented as the natural form of that precise thought. + +No harmful results would follow, if this assumption merely implied the +accepting of science and methods as existing by themselves previous to +the learning of science by means of its respective method; if it +resulted merely in the failure to recognise the impossibility of +conceiving science and methods as existing outside of the human mind +where they actually do live and exist. If this were all, we should +merely take notice of it as a speculative error which affected only the +solution of the particular problem in which it appeared. But in the life +of thought, where everything is united and connected in an organic +system, every point of which is in relation to every other point, there +is no error limited to a single problem; its effects are felt in the +whole system, and they react on thought as a whole. And since thought is +activity itself,--life's drama, as we called it,--every error infects +the entire life. Let us then consider the consequences of this realistic +conception of methodology. + +Science, we are told, in its abstract objectivity is one, immutable, +unaltered: it is removed from the danger of error and of human +fallibility, and protected from the alternate succession of ignorance +and discovery; incapable therefore of progressing and of developing +because it was complete from the very beginning, and is eternally +perfect. But such a Science is quite different from the one which +grows in the life of culture, and is the free formation of the human +personality. This one is ever changing, always admitting all +possible transformations, different from individual to individual, and +different also in the mind of the same person. It lives only on +condition that it never fix itself, that it never crystallise, that +it place no limits to its development; it continues to be in virtue +of its power to grow, to modify itself, to integrate itself and +incessantly to develop. Science as culture, as personality, is free, +perennially becoming, stirred by ethical impulses, multiple, varied. +If we fix the method, it indicates that we are dealing with science +realistically considered as pre-existing, and we can therefore have only +one sole, definite, immutable method,--one for everybody, and devoid of +freedom, not susceptible of development, refractory to all moral +evaluation. We should have then a rigid law of the spirit, as +compelling as the laws of nature. But by obedience to such a principle, +the spirit could not affirm itself: such compliance is surrender and +abdication, not the realisation of some good. The most that could be +said of it is that perhaps it prevents or annuls an evil which alienates +us from a primitive good which is not ours, and not being ours cannot +truly be good. + +A fixed method forces the spirit into this hopeless dilemma: (1) Either +refuse to submit, and thus save life at the cost of all that makes life +worth living--_propter vitam vivendi perdere causas_ (which evidently +would be the case, if we consider that the spirit lives solely on +condition that it recognise no pre-established laws, that it be free +from the bondage of nature, that it create its own law, its own world, +freely; and that, on the other hand, the _cause_ of living, what +constitutes the worth of life, is that enhancement of the spirit's +reality which realises itself in science, and therefore in the method of +science). + +(2) Or else submit, and kill life in the effort to save its +worth--_propter causas vivendi perdere vitam_ (which is absurd; for what +is the worth of life if there is no life?). + +However that may be, the type of education that presupposes a certain +ideal of knowledge previously constituted and ready to be imparted by +the teacher to the pupil in conformity with some suitable method, must +follow a method, a unique one--the method of science, and therefore of +the teacher, and therefore also of the pupil, whether the latter is +capable of it or not. For it is tacitly assumed that science==method; +science==teacher; science==pupil. On the strength of these equations the +common term "science" should suffice to identify the first method, which +is the one of science in itself, with the last, which is the method of +science to be mastered by the pupil. But the above series of equations +is false, because, admitting the first, the one namely on the basis of +which we are now discussing, neither the second nor the third is +possible without passing from realistic to idealistic science,--two +very different things, as I have shown. Even if we leave the teacher out +of consideration, we shall have to remember that the pupil learns a +science by making it his own,--a fallible science, which he may +understand up to a certain point and no further. It will be one of the +many sciences which have no one given method, but many of them, and the +pupil can only avoid appropriating, individualising, subjectivising +science by following that way which is very broad, very easy, and, alas, +only too well beaten,--the royal road of non-learning, which is +diligently upkept by all the schools which have to teach precise, +well-defined science, and have a pre-established method by which to +teach it. + +But, it might be objected, if science, realistically conceived, is a +fictitious entity in no way corresponding to reality, how is it possible +to have a method which by its uniqueness and definiteness effectively +corresponds to the unalterable unity of this non-existent science? And +what teacher would ever arbitrarily impose on his students such an +abstract and mechanical method? This is true enough; but man learns to +compromise with all deities, Science included. This divinity, in order +somehow to exist, must assume a few human traits without however +renouncing her divine prerogatives. The fact that Apollo held no +communion with the Pythian priestess did not remove the oracular +sanctity from the Delphic response. For man knows no deity other than +the one which he is capable of conceiving with his soul, just as he +knows no other red besides the one which he sees with his own eyes. + +Science, which he considers as an object existing in itself, outside of +his and other human minds, and therefore endowed with absolute validity +in all its branches and in the articulations of these branches, is +nothing but the science which _he_ knows. And he knows it because he has +constructed it in the form in which he knows it: _fingit creditique_. +But this absence of consciousness from the constructing, and the +consequent faith in the realistic value of science, determine the +positions and the doctrines which produce the consequences I have +deplored. For he who establishes a school and enacts its regulations +takes as a model his own science, without at all being aware that it is +only his own. It becomes therefore the content of the institution and +determines its method. But a teacher who does not feel inclined to +teach that given science and to adopt that special method creates his +own ideal, which is but the projection of his personal culture; and +unable to account critically for the intrinsic connection existing +between his ideal and his personality, he too _fingit creditique_. He +believes that the school authority has erred, and that Science, as +he understands it, must be kept distinct from the official doctrines. +But in his mind his science is not his own. It is, he is confident, +that Sovereign Science which by his method and through his cult must +enlighten the school over which he rules. And so at the point of +arrival where the realistic conception of methods must work, it is found +to be effective notwithstanding the rebuffs of reality, and it works. It +works and it acts in the only way that it is possible for it to act, +namely, by going amiss. It fails and will always continue to fail, not +so much because every pupil has his own personality and will have his +own particular culture with its corresponding method, but especially +because whatever the number of the pupils in a school, the human mind +knows of no culture which is not also its own free development, its +autonomous ethical becoming. A science, which is supposed to exist +before the spirit, becomes a thing, and will never again be able to +trace its way back to the spirit. By presupposing science, teachers +materialise the culture in whose development education consists; and +this materiality of a culture known to teachers renders impossible +that other culture which is unknown to teachers, which is going to +be not theirs, but the pupils', for whom they work and in whose behalf +the school was instituted. + +Methods, programmes, and manuals most conspicuously reveal the realistic +prejudices of school technique; and against these educators should +constantly be on their guard. For these prejudices have, as Vico would +put it, an eternal motive, which at times seems to be definitely +uprooted and completely done away with, only to reappear, alas! in a +different form and with an ever renewed lease of life. The motive is the +following: The school is created when people are conscious of a certain +amount of knowledge already attained, well defined, and recognised as +valuable. Likewise man's value socially is estimated on the work done, +and it is on the basis of this finished work that he is credited with +the acquisition of a certain personality. This is assuredly no longer a +becoming but a being; an existent thing, already realised, which, though +a contradiction in terms for those of us who have mastered the concept +of the attributes of the spirit, is not thereby condemned as accidental +and disposed of once for all. For it is also true that culture, +personality, science,--spiritual reality in short,--is a reality, and +true it is that when we know it, we know it as already realised. We may +indeed have a very keen and lively sentiment of the subjectivity, and +inwardness, and newness or originality of our culture, in which, for +example, Dante, Dante himself, is _our_ Dante, is "We." But yet this +"We" looms before us as a truth which transcends our particular "we." It +is truth; it is science. And before this divine Truth, before this +Science, we too fall on our knees, because it is no longer a mythology, +but--our experience, our life. + +Thus we think; thus, spiritually, we live. I meditate and inquire into +the mystery of the universe unceasingly; but in the background of my +inquiry, from time to time a solution appears, a discovery which urges +my exploring mind onward. Mystery itself is not mystery unless it be +known as such, and then it becomes knowledge. Inquiry is therefore at +once a research and a discovery. And this untiring activity, which knows +neither sleep nor rest, is mirrored before its own eyes and lives in the +fond contemplation of its reflected image, which image in its +objectivity appears to it as fixed as it, the activity, is mobile. And +no man ever felt so keenly the humility and meanness of his powers, no +one ever presumed so little of himself, that he could not yet be drawn +by his own nature to idolise himself, to see himself before himself, +exactly as he is, as what he cannot but be. And on the other hand we +cannot but affirm our immortal faith in the absolute truth of the ideals +which impose upon us sentiments of humility. + +The error which we must victoriously contend against is not this +ingenuous and unconquered faith in the objectivity of thought (which is +also the objectivity of all things). What we must fight against is +mental torpor and the sloth of the heart, which induce us to stop in +front of the object as soon as we get it. A deplorable failing indeed, +since the object is lost in the very act by which we grasp it, and we +must again resume our work and toil some more in order to attain it +again. For the object, in short, does exist, but in the subject; and in +order to be a living and real object it must live on the life itself of +the subject. + +A textbook is a textbook: when it was written, and if its author was +capable of thinking and of living in his thought, it too was a living +thing; and a living thing, that is, _spirit_, it will continue to be for +the instructor who does not through indolence allow himself to believe +that all the thinking demanded by the subject was done once for all by +the author of the manual. For the manual, as a book intended for the +teacher, meant to be constantly awakened by teachers to an ever +quickened life, the life of the spirit, can only be what the instructor +makes it. He, therefore, must have culture enough to read it as _his_ +book; he must be able to restore it to life, to re-create it by the +living process of his personal thought. This done, he will have done but +one-half of the work needed to transform himself from a reader into a +teacher. For his reading must lead up to the reading of the pupils; and +they ought not to be confronted with the finished product of a culture +turned out, all ready-made by the mechanism of the handbook. So that we +should now complete our previous statement, and say that the teacher +re-creates the book when he revives it in the mind of the one for whom +the book was written; when author, teacher, and pupil constitute but one +single spirit, whose life animates and inwardly vivifies the manual, +which therefore ought not to be called, as it is, a _hand_-book, but a +spiritual guide for the _mind_. Unfortunately the oft-deplored indolence +which freezes and stiffens spiritual life fastens the books to the hands +of the teacher first, and then to those of the pupils. + +Teachers should carefully watch themselves. If the book begins to feel +heavy in their hands, it is a sign that it is becoming a burden on the +pupils' minds. It will end by stifling their mental life, unless its +oppressive dulness is dispelled by the reawakened consciousness of the +instructor. Teachers should never for an instant become remiss in their +loving solicitude for their school. When their book, the book they +selected for their pupils, as the means of imparting the culture for +which the school stands, ceases to be the pupils' book, cherished by +them as a thing of their own, intimately bound up with their persons, +then it is high time to throw it away. For the moment a book loses its +power to attract it instantly begins to repel. It then becomes an +instrument of torture and a menace for the life of the youthful minds +entrusted to the teachers' care. + +Dictionaries and grammars go side by side with handbooks,--instruments +of culture that are only too often converted into engines of torture. +The abuse of these books, especially noticeable in the secondary +schools, is not limited to them, but is infecting primary instruction +too, and teachers should know what such books are, and be enlightened as +to their limitations. Otherwise the dictionary becomes the cemetery of +speech, and grammar the annexed dissecting room. A lexicon is a burial +ground for the mortal remains of those living beings which we call human +words, each one of which always lives in a context, not because it is +there in bodily company, in the society of other words, but because in +every context it has a special signification, being the form of a +precise thought or state of mind, as we may wish to call it. A word need +not be joined to other words to form that complex which grammarians call +a sentence. It may stand alone, all by itself, and constitute a +discourse, and express a thought, even a very great thought. The +"_fiat_" of the book of Genesis is an example. What is requisite is that +the word, whether by itself or with others, should adhere to the +personality, to the spiritual situation, and be the actual expression of +a soul. When joined to the soul a word, which materially is identical +with countless other words uttered by other souls, and with the peculiar +accents of the respective personalities, reveals its particular +expression, is a particular word not to be ever compared with any of +those countless ones materially identical with it. The biblical +"_fiat_," repeated by men who feel within them the almighty Word of the +Creator, is constantly taking on new shades of meaning, is always +reinforced by richer tones, and will always continue to do so, as a +result of the numerous ways that men have of picturing to themselves the +deity, and in accordance with the variety of doctrines, phantasies, and +sentiments, or whatever other forms of activity may converge into the +expression of a person's spiritual life. So that if, abstractly +considered, it is the word that we read, always the same, in the sublime +passage of Genesis, in reality it lives in an infinite number of forms, +as though an infinite number of words. + +But in dictionaries, words are sundered from the minds, detached from +the context, soulless and dead. A good lexicon--and those that are +put in the hands of pupils are seldom satisfactory--should always in +some way restore the word to the natural context, enchase it, so to +speak, in the jewel from which it was torn. It should never presume +to give meanings of abstracted words, but ought to point them out as +they exist historically in the authors who are deemed worthy +representatives of the language or of the literature. Dictionaries so +compiled do away partly with the objectionable abstractness, but are yet +unable to conjure the dead from their tombs. Their weakness and +insufficiency lie first of all in the fact that the true context of a +word, in which it lives concretely, and from which therefore it draws +its meaning, is in reality not the brief phrase, which is all that +historical dictionaries can quote, but rather the entire work of the +author from which the quoted phrase derives whatever colours it may +possess and its own peculiar shade. And the whole work in turn can be +understood only in connection with the boundless historical +environments out of which it emerges, in which it lives, and where +its thoughts receive their peculiar colouring and their special +significance. The insufficiency of the dictionary comes out even more +clearly from another and more important consideration. An historical +dictionary of the Italian language will, for example, tell us how +Machiavelli used the word "virtue" (_virtu_), and by the examples +adduced we should see or perhaps surmise the meaning of that word, +the knowledge of which is not just mere erudition, in as much as in the +mind of the cultured reader the thought of Machiavelli is restored to +life, and with it the concept which he was wont to express by the term +"virtue." But idealistically speaking, is this word Machiavelli's or is +it ours,--a word belonging to us who are inquiring into his thoughts? +It is ours, by all means, and for the reason that it belongs to _our_ +Machiavelli. Unless we have then within us this our Machiavelli, it is +useless for us to search for the meaning of the word in the dictionary. +In it surely we may find it, but as a dead body to be resurrected only +by remembering that its life is not in the printed page but in _us_, and +only in us. In our life everything will have to be resuscitated that is +to become part of our culture. + +And the same applies to grammars. As people conceive them and use them, +what are they if not a schematic arrangement of the forms by which +words are joined so as to constitute speech? And how can we cut the +discourse to the quick and extract these schemes, without at the same +time destroying its life? The scheme is a "part of speech," and it is a +rule. Grammar is a series of rules regarding the parts of speech, +considered singly and collectively. But the grammatical scheme--part of +speech or rule--abstracts a generic form from the particular expression +in such a way that the paradigm of a conjugation, for example, shall be +the conjugation of many verbs but not of any determined one. The rule +governing the use of the conditional is in the same way referred to +every verb which expresses a conditional act or occurrence, but to no +one verb in a peculiar manner. But since no speech contains a verb which +might present to us a verbal form which is not also the form of a +determined verb, nor a conditional which does not point with precision +to the action or occurrence subordinated to a condition, it is evident +that the scheme places before us, not the living and concrete body of +the speech, but a dissected and dead part of this body. + +I shall not here recall the controversies occasioned by the difficulties +inherent in the normative character ordinarily attributed to grammatical +schemes. I shall simply note that a scheme becomes intelligible only if +the example accompanies it; and the example always turns out to be a +living discourse, within which therefore we meet again the scheme, but +liberated from the presumed abstractness to which it had been confined +by the grammarian. And I shall merely add that the grammatical norm, +which in the realistic conception of grammar is presented as a rule, +anteceding actual speech both in time and ideally, has in reality no +validity whatsoever excepting as a law internal to the speaking itself, +which brings out its normative force only in the act itself of speaking. +In spite of this, however, the majority of people consider grammar as an +antecedent to speech and to thought, and therefore to the life of the +spirit. It appears to them as a reef on which the freedom of the +personality must be driven in the course of its becoming, bearing down +as it does on a past which is believed to exist beneath the horizon of +actuality and beyond the present life of the spirit. To them grammar is +legislation passed by former writers and speakers, prescribing norms for +those who intend to use the same language in the future. Against this +myth, and the consequent idol of grammar worshipped as a thing which has +not only the right, but the means also, of controlling and oppressing +the creative spontaneity of speech, teachers should be constantly on +their guard, if they feel bound to respect and protect the spirituality +of culture. + +Neither grammar then, nor rhetoric, nor any kind of misguided preceptive +teaching should be allowed to introduce into the school the menace of +realism which lurks naturally in the shadow of all prescriptive +systems. A precept is a mere historical indication, a sign which points +to something that was done as to something that had to be done then and +is to be done now. It was done and it was thought that it had to be +done. But what was done cannot be done over again, and what was thought +cannot again be thought. Life knows no past other than the one which it +contains within its living present. The precept has no value excepting +as that precept which we in every single instance intuit, and which we +must intuit, being spiritually alive and free, as the peculiar form of +_our_ thought, of our speaking, of our doing, of our being, in short, +which is our becoming. If we look upon a precept as transcending this +becoming, and as an antecedent to it, we misapprehend and therefore +imperil our indwelling freedom, which for us now ought to mean not +simply the failure to foster the growth of the spirit, but a deliberate +attempt to hinder and thwart its development and to blight the function +of culture. + +One more prejudice of those imputed to realistic instruction must still +be pointed out, and it will be the last. It is one of those time-worn +devices whose history, extending over a thousand years, reflects the +entire life of the school--the composition. Teachers expect and demand +that a predetermined and definite theme, as a nucleus of a thought +organism, as _leit-motif_, so to speak, of a work of art, as a ruling +principle for moral or speculative reflections, be developed by pupils +who may yet have never given the topic a single thought, who may +possibly be not at all attuned to that definite spiritual vibration, who +may in short be quite removed from the line along which the theme should +be developed. In the lower grades the line itself is marked, the entire +contour is given, and the pupil's mind is arbitrarily encompassed within +this fixed outline. These methods are now fortunately applied with +diminished rigour and less crudely than before. But the fact remains +that in all classes the teacher either assigns a theme at random, +picking a topic from a casual reading or from among the whims of his +rambling fancy, or else he conscientiously and carefully studies the +possibilities of a subject, and develops it to a certain extent before +he assigns it; so that he naturally expects the pupil's treatment to +conform to his own delineation; and he values the composition in +proportion as it approaches the rough draft which he had previously +sketched in his mind. + +Here too, as elsewhere, we encounter the difficulty of a thought which +is presupposed to thinking, which therefore binds it, strains it and +racks it out of its healthy and fruitful growth; for thought cannot live +without freedom. The dangers are many that beset us in the practice of +theme-composition, and not all of them of a merely intellectual +character. There is no intellectual deficiency which is not also at the +same time a moral blemish; and a course of exercises, such as we have +considered, not only jeopardises the formation of the intelligence by +urging it along a line of false and empty artificiality to the postiche +and the applique, but it also, and far more seriously, threatens the +moral character of the pupils in that it beguiles them into a sinful +familiarity with insincerity, which might perhaps become downright +cheating. + +Composition however in itself is not taboo for the idealist. Like +grammar and every other instrument of the teaching profession it must be +converted from the abstract to the concrete. We should never demand of +the pupil an inventiveness beyond his powers, never unfairly expect of +his mind what it cannot yet give. The boy must not be given a subject +drawn from a world with which he is unfamiliar. But when the subject +springs naturally from the pupil's own soul, in the atmosphere of the +school, and as a part of the spiritual life which unites him to his +teacher and to his classmates, then composition, like every other +element of a freely developing culture, is a creation and an unfailing +progress. For whatever has been frozen by the chill of realism, and has +been consequently made unfit for the life of the spirit, may again be +revived in the warmth of the living intelligence of the concrete, and be +thence idealistically fused with the spontaneous and vigorous current of +spiritual reality. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE UNITY OF EDUCATION + + +Having exemplified the prejudices of realism in the phases that are most +harmful to education, I shall now proceed to discuss the fundamental +corollary of the idealistic thesis as an effective remedy against the +ravages of realism. For, as I have already shown, the realistic +conception of life and culture is by no means a minor error which could +be corrected as soon as discovered. Originating in a primitive tendency +which impels the human spirit on through a realistic phase before it can +freely emerge into the loftier consciousness of self and power (which is +the conquest of idealism), this error again and again crops out of even +the most convinced anti-realistic consciousness. So that if at any +moment our higher reflection slackens its vigilance, the error creeps +back into the midst of our ideas, gains control of our intelligence, and +resumes its former sway over thought. It is not sufficient then to +become aware of the faults of realism and of the prejudices in which it +is mirrored; we must, in addition to all this, strengthen in our minds +the intuition of the spirituality of culture, render it more subtle, +more accurate, more certain, and bring to it the energy of a faith +which, after taking possession of our souls, shall become our life's +character. + +We must therefore look intently at the significance of that principle +which identifies culture with man's personality, notice its most +important consequences, and set these up as the laws of education, +since by education we mean the creation of a living culture which +shall be the life of the human mind. The first and foremost of these +consequences, the direct corollary of our proposition, is the +concept of the _Unity of Education_. Though often referred to, it has +not yet been attained by pedagogical doctrines, nor has it been the aim +of the work of teachers. Neither theory nor practice--more intimately +connected than is ordinarily supposed--shows as yet that this concept +is understood and adequately appreciated. It is opposed with full +force by the realistic conception which, keeping man distinct from +his culture, and materialising this culture, naturally attributes to +it, and to education in which it is reflected, that multiplicity and +fragmentariness which is the characteristic of things material. + +This scrappiness of culture and of education is the error on which all +the prejudices of realistic pedagogy are grounded. It is the enemy that +must be vanquished in the course of the crusade that has been preached +by idealism in its endeavour to liberate instruction from the deadly +oppression of mechanism. But in order to combat this foe we must first +know it: and we must gain a clear understanding of that unity of +education which it antagonises with uncompromising opposition. + +If we open a treatise on pedagogy or examine a schedule of courses, +if we look through a programme or stop to consider our every-day +technical terminology, we cannot help noticing that education is +broken up by divisions and subdivisions _ad infinitum_, exactly as +though it were a material object, which because material possesses +infinite divisibility. Textbooks tell us that education is (1) +physical, (2) intellectual, (3) moral. Then narrowing the subject +down to one section, the intellectual, which for good reasons has +been treated more carefully and sympathetically by traditional +pedagogy, we find some such subdivisions: artistic, scientific, +literary, philosophical, religious, etc. Again, artistic education will +be split up into as many sections as there are arts, and scientific +instruction in the same way; for pedagogy assigns to each branch of +the classification its corresponding method of teaching. It goes without +saying that the sciences of any given branch are different among +themselves, and the study of botany, for example, is not the study +of zoology. And there are as many forms of culture to be promoted by +education as there are sciences; which is clearly shown by school +announcements assigning to certain years, and for definite days and +hours, the several courses of the curriculum, that is, the several +educations. + +It is taken for granted that Education, properly so called, will +result from the ensemble of these particular educations--physical, +intellectual, moral, etc.,--each one of which contributes its share to +the final result, and is therefore a part of the entire education. And +each field produces certain peculiar results which it would be idle +to demand of another section, just as we never expect an olive grove +to yield a crop of peaches. Every part, self-contained and quite +distinct from the rest, absolutely excludes all other parts from +itself. Therefore the subjects taught in a school are numerous, and +there must accordingly be specialised teachers. And again each +instructor must be careful not to mix up the several parts which +compose his subject. The teacher of history, for example, when he takes +up the French Revolution, must forget the unification of Italy, and +treat each event in order and in turn; and the instructor of Italian +will take up the history of literature on a certain day of the week, +and devote some other hour to the study of the individual works +themselves. + +So also we never fail to distinguish and carefully separate the two +parts of the teacher's work, his ability as a disciplinarian and his +skill in imparting information, for it is an accepted commonplace of +school technique that ability to teach is one thing, and the power to +maintain discipline is another. It is one thing to be able to keep the +class attentive to the discussion of a given subject, and quite another +to treat this subject suitably for the needs and attainments of the +pupils. Discipline is considered thus as a mere threshold; the real +teaching comes after. For, it is argued, discipline has no cultural +content; it is nothing more than the spiritual disposition and +adaptation which should precede the acquisition, or if we so wish to +call it, the development of real culture,--a disposition which is +obtained when respect for the authority of the teacher is ensured. + +The recognition of that authority simply means the establishment of a +necessary condition; as for the real work of education, that is yet to +come. And if we should stop at what we have called the threshold, we +should have no school at all. There are teachers, in fact, who keep good +discipline, but who are yet unable to teach, either through lack of +culture or because they are deficient in methods. + +All these are commonplaces to which we often resort without stopping to +consider their validity. And, in truth, it is because of this lack of +consideration that we are able to use them without noticing their +absurdities and without therefore feeling the necessity of emending our +ways. This lack of reflection resolves itself into a lack of precision +in the handling of these concepts. They are formulated without much +rigour with a great deal of elasticity, and in the spirit of +compromising with that truth against which they would otherwise too +jarringly clash. + +First of all, no one has ever conceived the possibility of separating +discipline from education. What is often done is to distinguish +discipline from that part of education which is called instruction, and +to consider the two as integrating the total concept of education. +Mention is often made of the educational value of discipline. But this +kind of co-ordination of the two forms of education--discipline and +instruction--and their subordination to the generic concept of education +are more easily formulated than comprehended. For if we should +distinguish them simply on the grounds that one is the necessary +antecedent of the other, we should have a relationship similar to that +which connects any part of instruction with the part which must be +presupposed before it as an antecedent moment in the same process of +development. But the relationship which exists between any two parts of +instruction cannot serve to distinguish from instruction a thing which +is different from it. + +We might wish, perhaps, to consider as characteristic of this absolute +antecedence the establishment of the authority without which teaching, +properly so called, cannot begin. But the objection to this would be +that every moment of the teaching process presupposes a new authority, +which can never be considered as definitely acquired, which is +constantly being imposed anew, and which must proceed at every given +instance from the effective spiritual action exercised by the teacher +upon the pupil. In other words, I mean to say that no teacher is able +independently of the merits of his teaching to maintain discipline +simply and solely on the strength of his personal prestige, of his force +of character, or any other suitable qualification. For whoever he may +be, and whatever the power by which at the start he is able to attract +the attention of his pupils and to keep it riveted on his words, the +teacher as he begins to impart information ceases to be what he was +immediately before, and becomes to the eyes of his pupils an ever +changing individual,--bigger or smaller, stronger or weaker, and +therefore more or less worthy of that attention and that respect of +which boys are capable in their expectance of spiritual light and joy. +The initial presentation is nothing more than a promise and an +anticipation. In the course of teaching this anticipation must not be +disappointed, this promise must be constantly fulfilled and more than +fulfilled by the subsequent developments. The teacher's personality as +revealed at the beginning must be borne out by all that he does in the +course of the lesson. Experience confirms this view, and the reason of +it is to be found in the doctrine now familiar to us of the spirit that +never _is_ definitely, but is always constituting itself, always +_becoming_. And every man is esteemed and appreciated on the strength +of what he shows himself to be at any given moment, and in virtue of the +experience which we continue to have of his being,--a being which is the +development in which he realises himself. + +So, then, discipline is never enforced definitely and in such a way that +the teacher may proceed to build on it as on a firm basis without any +further concern. And it is therefore difficult to see how we could +possibly sever with a clean cut the task of keeping discipline from the +duty of imparting instruction. + +Nor is it any more plausible to maintain that discipline, though it may +not chronologically precede instruction, is its logical antecedent, in +the sense that there are at every instant of the life of the school both +discipline and instruction, the former as a condition of the latter. The +difficulty here is that if we assumed this, we ought to be able to +indicate the difference between the condition and the conditioned; which +difference, unless we rest content with vague words, is not forthcoming, +and cannot be found. I maintain that were it possible for the teacher +definitely to enthrone, so to speak, discipline in his school, all his +work were done. He would have fulfilled his entire duty, acquitted his +obligation, and achieved the results of his mission, whether we look +upon this mission in the complex of its development, or whether we +consider it ideally in the instant of its determined act, which is yet +a process and therefore a development. For what, in fact, is discipline? +Is it established authority? But this authority is the whole of +education. For authority cannot be, as I have explained before, a mere +claim: it must become actual in the effective action performed by the +educating personality, and this action _is_ education. And when this +education consists, for example, in the imparting of a rule of syntax, +education becomes actual when the pupil really apprehends that rule from +his instructor exactly as it is taught to him, and thus appropriates the +teacher's manner of thinking and his intellectual behaviour on that +special subject, and acts and does as the teacher wants him to. And from +the point of view of discipline, this is all we want at that moment. + +If in the course of education, considered as a whole or at any +particular moment of it, we should separate discipline from instruction, +now turning our attention to the one and now to the other, we know from +experience that we should never get anywhere. As a matter of fact, the +distinction thrusts itself to the fore only when the problem of +discipline is erroneously formulated by treating it abstractly. For who +is it that worries over discipline as such, and as though it were a +thing different from teaching? Who is it that looks upon this problem as +an insoluble one? Only the teacher who, unable to maintain discipline, +frets over it and failing to discover it where it is naturally to be +found, desperately looks for it where it is not, where it could not +possibly be. And so he is helplessly perturbed, like the man who, +feeling upon himself the concentrated gaze of all the guests seated in a +parlour, is no longer able to walk across the floor; it is the same +difficulty and impediment we encounter every time we try to watch and +study our movements. In the same way the spontaneous outburst of +eloquent sentiments that flow from the fulness of our hearts is checked +by the endeavour to analyse them, to study the words--to substitute art +for nature. + +The real teacher, the naturally gifted teacher, never bothers about +these puzzling questions of pedagogical discipline. He teaches with such +devotion; he is so close spiritually to his pupils, so sympathetic with +their views; his work is so serious, so sincere, so eager, so full of +life, that he is never compelled to face a recalcitrant, rebellious +personality that could only be reduced by resorting to the peculiar +means of discipline. The docility of the pupils in the eyes of the able +teacher is neither an antecedent nor a consequent of his teachings; it +is an aspect of it. It originates with the very act by which he begins +to teach, and ceases with the end of his teaching. Concretely, the +discipline which good teachers enforce in the classroom is the natural +behaviour of the spirit which adheres to itself in the seriousness and +inwardness of its own work. Discipline, authority, and respect for +authority are absent whenever it is impossible to establish that unique +superior personality, in which the spiritual life of the pupils and of +the teachers are together fused and united. Whenever the students fail +to find their ideal in the teacher; when they are disappointed by his +aspect, his gaze, his words, in the complex concreteness of his +spiritual personality, which does not rise to the ideal which at every +moment is present in their expectations, then the order of discipline is +lacking. But when this actual unity obtains--this unity which is the +task of the teacher, and the aim of all education--then discipline, +authority, and respect are present as never failing elements. + +This pedagogical problem of discipline would never have arisen if +immature reflection had not distinguished two empirically different +aspects of human personality, the practical and the theoretical, whereby +it would appear that man, when he does things, should not be considered +in the same light as when he thinks and understands, knows and learns. +From this point of view, discipline of deportment is to be referred to +the pupil as practical spiritual activity, while teaching aims at his +theoretic activity. The former should guide the pupil, regulate his +conduct as a member of that special community which we call the school, +and facilitate the fulfilment of the obligations which he has toward the +institution, toward his fellow-pupils, and toward himself. The latter, +on the other hand, assuming the completion of this practical +edification, proceeds to the mental formation of the personality, +considered as progressive acquirement of culture. Discipline in this +system appears to be the morals of the school. I use the word morals in +a very broad sense--just as morality might be considered as the +discipline of society and of life in general. For everybody, it is +argued, distinguishes between the character of man and his intelligence, +between his conduct and his knowledge. The two terms may indeed be drawn +together, but they also exist quite apart. So that a man devoid of +character, or possessed with an indomitable will for evil, may +nevertheless be extremely learned and shrewd, or as subtle as the +serpent; whereas a moral man, through lack of understanding, may become +the sport of rogues, and remain illiterate, devoid of all, even of the +slightest accomplishments. For will is one thing, they say, and the +intellect is another. + +The question of the abstractness of discipline impels us now to examine +the legitimacy of this broader distinction, which does not simply +concern the problems of the school, but extends to the fundamental +principles of the philosophy of the spirit. Under its influence, +contemporary thought attacks all the surviving forms of this ancient +distinction between will and intellect, which rested on a frankly +realistic intuition of the world. The philosopher who crystallised this +distinction, and fastened it so hard that it could not be broken up +completely in the course of all subsequent speculation, was Aristotle. A +thoroughgoing realist, like all Greek philosophers, he conceived reality +as something external and antecedent to the mind which thinks it and +strives to know it. When thought, whose function is the knowing of +reality, is thus placed outside of this reality, it is evident that the +knowledge to which it aspired never could have been an activity which +produces reality. It was accordingly maintained that knowledge could not +be more than a mere survey, a view of reality (intuition, theory), +almost like a reflected image, totally extrinsic to the essence of the +real. But since it was evident that man as spiritual activity does +produce a world of his own, for which he is praised if it is deemed +good, but blamed if it is judged bad, it had to follow that there were +two distinct aspects in human life: one by which man contemplates +reality, the other by which he creates his own world,--a world, however, +which is but a transformation of the true and original reality. These +two aspects are the will and the intellect. + +It should not now be necessary to criticise this concept of a reality +assumed to exist, in antecedence to the activity of the spirit, and +which is the sole support of this distinction between will and +intellect. We might say perhaps that though everything does indeed +depend from the spirit, and though all is spirit, yet this completely +spiritual reality is on one hand what is produced, the realisation of +new realities (will), but on the other hand it is but the knowledge of +its own reality, and by this knowledge gives no increment to its being. +However, if we adopted this view, we would slip back to the position we +abandoned as untenable, since a thought which propounds the problem of +its essence and of the essence of the reality which it cognises can be +but mere knowing. For it is again faced by a reality--even though it has +in this case been arbitrarily presumed identical with it--a reality +which is as an antecedent to it, and leaves to it only the task of +looking on. So we must conclude that the life of the spirit is never +mere contemplation. What seems to be contemplation--that consciousness +which the spirit acquires of itself, and, acquiring which, realises +itself--is a creation: a creation not of things but of its own self. For +what are things but the spirit as it is looked at abstractly in the +multiplicity of its manifestations? + +We shall more easily understand that our knowing and our doing are +indiscernible, if we recall that our doing is not what is also perceived +externally, a motion in space caused by us. This external manifestation +is quite subordinate and adventitious. The essential character of our +doing is the internal will, which does not, properly speaking, modify +things, but does modify us, by bringing out in us a personality which +otherwise would not have been. This is the substance of the will, which +we cannot deny to thought, if thought is, as I have shown, development, +and therefore continuous self-creation of the personality. + +If intellect then and will are one and the same thing, to such an extent +that there is no intellect which in its development is not development +of personality, formation of character, realisation of a spiritual +reality, we shall be able to understand that the ideas of two distinct +spiritual activities, as the basis of the ordinary distinction between +moral and intellectual training, are mere abstractions that tend to lead +us away from the comprehension of the living reality of the spirit. This +distinction appears to me exceedingly harmful, nothing being more +deplorable, from the moral point of view, than to consider any part of +the life we have to live as morally indifferent; and nothing being more +harmful to the school than the conviction that the moral formation of +man is not the entire purpose of education, but only a part of its +content. It is indispensable, I maintain, that the educator have the +reverent consciousness of the extremely delicate moral value of every +single word which he addresses to his pupils and of the profoundly +ethical essence of the instruction which he imparts to them. For the +school which gives instruction with no moral training in reality gives +no instruction at all. All the objections voiced on this score against +education, which we try to meet by adding on to instruction all that +ought to integrate the truly educational function, are the result of +this abstract way of looking upon instruction solely as the culture of +an intellect which in some way differs from the will, from character, +and from moral personality. + +I wish here to call attention to one of the most controverted questions +connected with popular education, because it brings out very clearly the +impossibility of keeping moral education distinct from intellectual +instruction. It is constantly asserted that the instruction of the +common people, that real education which is the main purpose of the +modern state, is not a question of mere reading and spelling; that +these do not constitute culture, but are as means to an end, and +ought never to be allowed to take the place of the end to which they +are subservient. The school therefore, if it cannot shape men, should +at least rough-hew them and give them a conscience, whereas now, it +teaches but often does not educate: it gives to the learner the means of +culture, and then abandons him to his own resources. The optimism of +educators in the eighteenth century, their promise that marvels would +come out of elementary instruction propagated and spread by popular +schools devised for this purpose, was constantly met in the course +of the last century by an ever-growing mistrust of instruction generally +restricted to the notion of mere instrumentality. For in addition to +other shortcomings it was felt that this instrument might be put to a +very bad use; that elementary learning might be a dangerous thing if +it were not accompanied by something that instruction pure and simple +cannot give, namely, soundness of heart, strength of mind, and +conscience strong enough to uphold intelligence by the vigorous and +uncompromising principles of moral rectitude. The hopefulness of that +past optimism is fast yielding ground to the pessimistic denunciation +of the insufficiency of mere instruction for the moral ends of life. + +There is a serious error in this frequent indictment brought against +mere instruction as a means of attaining what is called culture. It +proceeds from the attempt to separate something that was not meant to be +separated. "What God hath united together, man shall not put asunder." +And, in any event, a separation as illegitimate as this is not possible. +Superficially we may distinguish and apparently sunder instruction from +moral training, cut off the means from the end, and separate the ability +to read and write from what we are thereby enabled to read and write. In +fact the letters of the alphabet are taught without teaching the +syllables which they compose, and without the words that are made up of +these syllables, and the thoughts that are expressed by these words, and +man's life which becomes manifest and real in these thoughts. The +elementary school is in fact, as it is in name, the teaching of the +elements. Reading, writing, arithmetic, all subjects called for by the +school programme are taken up as mere elements with which the pupil is +expected, later on, to compose his Book of Life, complete in all its +sections. But in the meantime it is thought unwise to burden his +youthful mind with the weighty and complicated problems that can be +solved only by the experience of a more mature life. Of course after he +has gone forth from the school into the outer world the young man will +look upon this elementary knowledge as the raw material of his future +mentality. As he carves out his path to this or that goal, in accordance +with his spiritual interests and in compliance with the contingencies of +life, he will avail himself of this initial instruction, use it to +further his progress towards this or that end, good or evil as the case +may be. For intellectual instruction, it is argued, can be made +subservient either to noble impulses or to base motives. + +Careful consideration, however, will show that the responsibility of a +school for what is called moral insufficiency, but is in reality +educational defectiveness, cannot be removed by this kind of +considerations. The alphabet begins to be such when it ceases to be a +series of physical marks corresponding to the sounds into which all the +words of a language may be decomposed. The alphabetic symbol is +effectively such when it is a sound, and it is sound when it is an +image, or rather a concrete form of an internal vibration of the mind. +The child begins to see the alphabet when he reads with it. Up to that +time he simply draws images or inwardly gazes at the semblance of +the picture he intends to draw, but he does not read. As soon as the +symbol is read, it becomes a word. That is why every spelling book +presents the letters in the syllables and the syllables in the words. In +this way they cease to be mere scrawls drawn on the paper, and become +thoughts. They may be dim, vague, and mysterious; they may be sharply +defined or they may blend and fuse into a suggestive haze; but they are +in every given instance thoughts that are being awakened in the mind +of the child. These thoughts have in them the power to develop, to +organise themselves and become a discourse. From the simple sentences +and the nursery rhymes of the primer, they grow into an ever-richer +significance. From the sowing to the harvesting, from the green stalk to +the sturdy trunk, it is _one_ life and one sole process. The mind that +will soar over the dizzy heights of thought begins its flight in the +humble lowlands. And it first becomes conscious of its power to rise, +when the life of thought is awakened by the words of the spelling book. + +The moment the child begins reading, he must of necessity read +_something_. There is no mere instrument without the material to which +it is to be applied. The infant who opens his eyes and strives to look +cannot but see something. The "picture," insignificant for the teacher, +has its own special colouring for the child's mind. He fixes his gaze on +it; he draws it within himself, cherishes it, and fosters it with his +fancies. Such is the law of the spirit! It may be violated, but the +consequences of transgression are commensurate with the majesty of this +law. + +Grammars too, like spelling primers and rhetorics and logic and every +kind of preceptive teaching, may be assumed as a form separated from its +contents, as something empty and abstract. The child is taught for +instance that the letter _m_ in _mamma_ does not belong to that word (we +call it a "word," and forget that to him at least it is not a word but +his own mother). That letter _m_, we tell him, is found in other words, +_mat_, _meat_, etc. We show him that it is in all of them, and yet in +none of them. We therefore can and must abstract it from all concrete +connections, isolate and fix it as that something which it is in +itself--the letter _m_. In the same manner we abstract the rule of +grammar from a number of individual examples. We exalt it over them, and +give it an existence which is higher, and independent of theirs. And so +for rhetoric, and so for logic. + +But in this process of progressive abstraction, in this practice of +considering the abstract as something substantial, and of reducing +the concrete and the particular to the subordinate position of the +accessory, life recedes and ebbs away. The differences between this and +that word, between two images, two thoughts, two modes of thinking, of +expressing, of behaving, at first become slight, then negligible, +then quite inexistent, and the soul becomes accustomed to the generic, +to the empty, to the indifferent. It knows no longer how to fix the +peculiarities of things, how to notice the different traits of men's +characters, their interests, their diverse values, until finally it +becomes indifferent and sceptical. Words lose their meaning; they no +longer smack of what they used to; their value is gone. Things lose +their individuality, and men their physiognomies. This scepticism +robs man of his own faith, of his character and personality. The +fundamental aim of education ceases to exist. Abstract education is +no education at all. It is not even instruction. For it does not teach +the alphabet as it really exists, as something inseparable from the +sound, and from the word, and from the human soul! All it gives is a new +materialised and detached abstraction. + +The alphabet is real and concrete, not abstract; it is not a means +but an end; it is not mere form but also content. It is not a weapon +which man may wield indifferently either for good purposes or for +evil motives. It is man himself. It is the human soul, which should +already flash in the very first word that is spelled, if it is read +intelligently. And it ought to be a good word, worthy of the child and +of the future man, a word in which the youthful pupil ought already to +be able to discover himself,--not himself in general, but that better +self which the school gradually and progressively will teach him to +find within himself. So considered, the alphabet is a powerful +instrument of human formation and of moral shaping. It is education. + +For this reason the school must have a library, and should adopt all +possible means to encourage the habit and develop the taste of reading, +since the word which truly expresses the soul of man is not _that_ one +word, nor the word of _that_ one book. A word or a book will always be a +mere fragment of life, and many of them therefore will be needed. Many, +very many books, to satisfy the ever-growing needs of the child's mind! +Books that will spur his thought constantly towards more distant goals, +and his heart and imagination with it. Thus the child grows to be a +man. + +Instruction then which is not education is not even instruction. It +is a denuded abstraction, violently thrust like other abstractions +into the life of the spirit where it generates that monstrosity +which we have described as material culture, mechanical and devoid of +spiritual vitality. That culture, being material, has no unity, is +fragmentary, inorganic, capable of growing indefinitely without in any +way transforming the recipient mind or becoming assimilated to the +process of the personality to which it simply adheres extrinsically. +This mechanical teaching is commensurate with things, and grows +proportionately with them; but it has no intimate relation with the +spirit. He who knows one hundred things has not a greater nor a +different intellectual value from him who knows ten, since the hundred +and the ten are locked up in both in exactly the same way that two +different sums of money are deposited in two different vaults. What +merit is there in the safe which contains the greater sum? The merit +would belong to the man who had accumulated the greater amount by a +greater sum of labour, for it would then be commensurate with work, +which is the developing process itself and the life of the human +personality to which we must always have recourse when we endeavour +to establish values. For as we have seen, nothing is, properly +speaking, thinkable except in relation to the human spirit. + +Whether one reads a single book or an entire library, the result is the +same, if what is read fails to become the life of the reader--his +feelings and his thoughts, his passions and his meditation, his +experience and the extolment of his personality. The poet Giusti has +said: "Writing a book is worse than useless, unless it is going to +change people." Reading a book with no effect is infinitely worse. Of +course the people that have to be transformed, both for the writer and +for the reader (who are not two very different persons after all), are +not the others, but first of all the author himself. The mere reading of +a page or even a word inwardly reconstitutes us, if it does consist in a +new throb of our personality, which continuously renews itself through +the incessant vibrations of its becoming. This then is the all-important +solution,--that the book or the word of a teacher arouse our souls and +set them in motion; that it transform itself into our inner life; that +it cease to be a thing, special and determinate, one of the many, and +become transfused into our personality. And our personality in its act, +in the act, I say, and not in the abstract concept which we may somehow +form of it,--is absolute unity: that moving unity to which education can +in no wise be referred, unless it is made identical with its movement, +and therefore entirely conformant to its unity. + +The man whose culture is limited, or, rather, entirely estranged from +the understanding of life, is called _homo unius libri_. We might just +as well call him _homo omnium librorum_. For he who would read all books +need have a leaking brain like the perforated vessel of the daughters of +Danaus,--a leak through which all ideas, all joys, all sorrows, and all +hopes, everything that man may find in books, would have to flow +unceasingly, without leaving any traces of their passage, without ever +forming that personality which, having acquired a certain form or +physiognomy, reacts and becomes selective, picks what it wants out of +the congeries, and chooses, out of all possible experiences, only what +it requires for the life that is suited to it. We should never add books +upon books _ad infinitum_! It is not a question of quantity. What we +need is the ability to discover our world in books,--that sum total of +interests which respond to all the vibrations of our spirit, which +assuredly, as Herbart claimed, has a multiplicity of interests, but all +of them radiating from a vital centre. And everything is in the centre, +since everything originates there. + +Education which strives to get at the centre of the personality, the +sole spot whence it is possible to derive the spiritual value of a +living culture, is essentially moral, and may never be hemmed in within +the restricted bounds of an abstract intellectual training. There is in +truth a kind of instruction which is not education; not because it is in +no way educative, but because it gives a bad education and trains for +evil. This realistic education, which is substantially materialistic, +extinguishes the sentiment of freedom in man, debases his personality, +and stifles in him the living consciousness of the spirituality of the +world, and consequently of man's responsibility. + +The antithesis between instruction and education is the antithesis +between realistic and idealistic culture, or again, that existing +between a material and a spiritual conception of life. If the school +means conquest of freedom, we must learn to loathe the scrappiness of +education, the fractioning tendency which presumes to cut off one part +from the rest of the body, as if education, that is, personality, could +have many parts. We must learn to react against a system of education +which, conceiving its role to be merely intellectualistic, and such as +to make of the human spirit a clear mirror of things, proceeds to an +infinite subdivision to match the infinite multiplicity of things. Unity +ought to be our constant aim. We should never look away from the living, +that is, the person, the pupil into whose soul our loving solicitude +should strive to gain access in order to help him create his own +world. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +CHARACTER AND PHYSICAL EDUCATION + + +The principle of educational unity which I have briefly tried to +illustrate demands a further development in connection with the claims +of physical culture. For after we have unified moral and intellectual +discipline in the one concrete concept of the education of the spirit, +whose activity cannot be cognitive without also being practical, and +cannot realise any moral values except through cognition, it might yet +seem that a complete and perfect system of education should aim at the +physical development as well as at the spiritual. For the pupil is not +solely mind. He has a body also; and these two terms, body and spirit, +must be conceived in such close connection and in such intimate +conjunction that the health of the one be dependent on the soundness of +the other. + +Before elucidating this argument, we must voice our appreciation of the +pedagogical principle by virtue of which the ancient Greeks developed +their athletic education, and which since the Renaissance has for a +different motive been reintroduced into the theory of physical +culture,--a theory which I do not at all oppose, but rather intend to +reaffirm on the grounds of educational unity. This pedagogical +principle evidently originated in the mode of considering the function +of the bodily organism in respect to the human mind, since every time we +scrutinise the interest that has always guided men in the field of +education, we find that at all times the aim of education has been the +development of the mind. Nor could it have been otherwise; for whether +or not in possession of a clear understanding of his spiritual essence, +man spontaneously presents himself and is valued as a personality, which +affirms itself, speaks even though dumb, and says "I." Education begins +as a relation between master and slave, between parent and children. The +slave and the son are not supported and cared for--educated--as simple +brutes, but as beings endowed with the same attributes as the master or +the parent, beings who are therefore able to receive orders or +instructions and build their will out of these,--the will which those in +authority wish to be identical with their own. The superior commands and +therefore demands; the inferior obeys by replying, and he replies in so +far as he is a spiritual subject; and this reply will become gradually +better in proportion as he more fully actualises that spiritual nature +which the master wishes to be closely corresponding to his own. +Philosophy, as well as naive and primitive mentality, considers man to +be such in so far as he is conscious of what he does, of what he says, +of what he thinks; and also in that he is able to present himself to +others, because he has first been present to himself. + +Man is man in that he is self-consciousness. Even the despicable tyrant +who brutally domineers over the wretch who is forced to submit to his +overbearing arrogance, even he wants his slave to be intelligent, +capable of guessing his thoughts, and refuses to consider him as an +unconscious tool of his whims. The mother who tenderly nurses her sick +child is indeed anxious for the health of the body over which she +worries, and she would like to see it vigorous and strong. But that body +is so endeared to her, because by means of it the child is enabled to +live happily with her; through it his fond soul can requite maternal +love by filial devotion; or in it he may develop a powerful and +beautiful personality worthy to be adored as the ideal creature of +maternal affection. If in the bloom of physical health he were to reveal +himself stupid and insensate, endowed with mere instinctive sensuality +and bestial appetites, this son would cease to be the object of his +mother's fondness, nay, he would arouse in her a feeling of loathing and +revulsion. It is this sense of loathing that we feel towards the brutes, +to the extent that we never can be sympathetically drawn to them, and +that we also feel for the human corpse from which life has departed; for +life is the basis of every psychological relation, and therefore of +every possible sympathy. + +Education is union, communion, inter-individual unification; and unity +is possible only because men spiritually convene. Matter, we have seen, +nature, things, the non-spirit is multiplicity. As soon as the +multiplicity of natural elements begins to be organised, already in +their organism spiritual activity shines forth. In the spirit is the +root and possibility of every unification. It is spirit that unites men. +Education therefore cannot be a social relationship and a link between +men except by being a spiritual tie among human minds. Therefore it is +now, and has at all times been, what it naturally ought to be, education +of the spirit. + +But as we aim at the education of the spirit, we may or we may not take +care of the body; or again we may take care of it in this or that way. +It all depends on what conception we have of the spirit. The ancients +made a great deal of physical culture, and the Greek philosophers of +antiquity considered gymnastics to be the essential complement of music, +including in music all forms of spiritual cultivation. The ancients +never divided the spirit from the physical reality of man: man as a +whole (body and psychic activity) was conceived by them as a natural +being subject to the mechanism which regulates and controls nature. When +Greek psychology fell under the influence of that mystic outlook which +is peculiar to religious belief, the soul, which was opposed to the +body, and which was looked upon as chained and emprisoned in the body, +was sharply distinguished from another soul. That other soul was kept +in contact with the materiality of all natural things, and together with +them was governed by the law of mechanical becoming, that is, of the +transformations caused by motion by which all the parts of matter are +bestirred. This natural soul, susceptible of development, and capable of +gradually rising to the height of the other, of the pure bodiless mind +whose act is the contemplation of truth; this soul imbedded in the body, +which does not therefore give to man a supernatural being, but like all +things of nature comes into the world, grows and dies, incessantly +passing from one mode of being to another, this soul is the one that can +and ought to be educated. The soul which results from the organic +process of the physical body, and which in its development proceeds side +by side with the transformations of the latter, could not be educated +except in connection with the development and improvement of the body. +Human thought, which then had not yet secured the consciousness of its +own irreducible opposition to nature,--the consciousness, in other +words, of its own essential freedom,--seeing itself immersed even as +spiritual substance in the indistinctness of nature, could not look upon +education as upon a problem of freedom which can not admit of nature as +limiting spiritual activity. It was accordingly reduced to conceive this +activity, displayed in dealing with man, as being on the same plane with +the other forms of activity which propose to deal with things of +nature. In a pedagogical naturalism of this sort, the mind could not be +the mind without also being body, and therefore had to include physical +development in its own process. + +But with the advent of Christianity the spirit was sharply dissociated +from nature. The original dualism of law of the spirit and law of the +flesh, of grace and nature, rescued man at the very beginning from the +tyranny of merely natural things, and announced a kingdom of the spirit +which "is not of this world." And it is not in fact "of this world," if +by world we mean what the word ordinarily implies,--the world which +confronts us, and which we can point out to ourselves and to others; the +world which, being the object of our experience, is the direct +antithesis of what we are, subject of experience, free personality, +spirit, Christian humanity. Man, in this Christian conception, in this +opposition to nature and to the experimental world, overcomes what +within his own self still belongs to nature, subdues that part of him +which because natural appears as the enemy of freedom and of the +finality of the spirit; as the seducer and the source of guilty wiles +which clip the wing of man's loftier aspirations and weigh him down into +a beast-like subjection to instinct. He therefore tends to underrate +physical education, and sacrifices it to the demands of the spirit. He +does not completely neglect the question of the behaviour of man +towards physical nature; he could not, since his very dualism is +possible only on condition that he correlate the two terms of the +opposition. But finding that his attempt to attain freedom and realise +his spiritual destiny is thwarted by the natural impulses of the senses, +in which the life of the body is made manifest, he decides to remove +these hindrances and to clear the way which leads to spiritual +salvation. He does then take the body into consideration, but simply to +check its instincts and control its sensuous appetites. By the +discipline of self-mortification, under the guidance of an unbending +will, he subdues the flesh, and subjects it to the exigencies of the +spirit. + +Evidently this subduing discipline is still physical exercise, but in +its own way. The haircloth of St. Francis corresponds in fact to the +club of Hercules, and serves the same purpose. The monsters which are +knocked down by the weapon which Hercules alone could wield torment the +saint of Assisi also; only, they are within him. He even tames the wolf, +but without club or chains, by the mere exercise of his gentle meekness. +These internal monsters are not, properly speaking, in the material +body. If they were, the Saint would not need to worry about them any +more than about the earth under his feet or the sack on his shoulder. +But they are in that body which he feels; they are in that soul which, +with the violence of its desires, the din of its harsh and fiercely +discordant voices, distracts him from the ideal where his life is. They +are in that soul which thrusts so many claims on him, that were he to +satisfy them he would have to part company with his Lady Poverty, and +become once more the slave of things which are not in his power,--of +wealth, which heaps up and blows away; of Fortune, which comes as a +friend and departs as an enemy. He would, in other words, return to a +materialistic conception of life. His Lernaean hydra is in the depths of +his heart, where hundred-headed instinct, with its hundred mouths, tears +the roots of his holy and magnanimous will, eager to resemble the +Saviour in love and self-sacrifice. + +This monster is strangled with the haircloth, when the body is hardened +and trained to self-denial, to suffering, to the repression of all +animal passions which would keep man away from his goal. This +discipline, far from debilitating the body, gives it a new strength, an +endurance which enables man to live on a higher plane than he would if +he followed natural impulses. For this more difficult manner of living, +a robustness and a hardihood are requisite which are beyond the natural +means of the body. The system of physical culture which gives this +stupendous endurance is called asceticism. + +But this system is an abstract one. Man's life is not poverty, since it +is work and therefore wealth. And the mind with its freedom cannot be +conceived of as antagonistic to nature. For as body and as sense, in so +far as we exist and know of our existence, we belong to this nature. +Antagonism and duality import the limitation of each of the opposed +terms and exclude freedom which is not to be found within fixed limits; +for freedom, as we have said, means infinitude. + +The spirit is free only if infinite. It cannot have any obstructing +barrier in its path. It can be conceived as freedom only after it has +overcome dualism, and when in nature itself and in the body we see the +effect of the activity of the spirit. It has no need therefore of walls +within which it might feel the necessity of cloistering itself in the +effort to renounce the outer world. This is not the way to conquer +freedom. A liberty won under such conditions would always be insecure, +constantly threatened, always beleaguered, and therefore a mere shadow +of freedom. The spirit, if it is free, that is, if it is spirit, must be +conterminous with thought, it must extend its sway as far as there is +any sign of life to the last point where a vestige of being can be +revealed to it. Nothing thinkable can be external to it. Whatever +presents itself to it, whether in the garb of an enemy or under the +cloak of friendship, can only be one of its creatures, which it has +placed at its own side, or in front of itself, or against itself. + +This new pedagogical and philosophical view, first disclosed to +Humanism, then enlightened by the genius of the Italian Renaissance, +appears now to us in the full light of modern thought. Superficially it +might seem identical with the classical and naturalistic outlook. In +reality, however, it has made its way back to it only in order to +confirm and integrate the concept of Christian spiritualism and to bring +out its truth. Greek athletics is the training of the body as an end in +itself: it surely serves the cause of the spirit, but only in so far as +the spirit is grafted on the trunk of the physical personality, and to +the extent that it is able to absorb all its vital sap, thereby +subjecting itself to generation and decay, the common destiny of all +natural beings. The physical culture of the ancients is spiritual +discipline, only to the extent that for them the mind too is essentially +body. Modern physical education, at least from the time of Vittorino da +Feltre, is spiritual formation of the body: it is bodily training for +the benefit of the spirit, just as the mediaeval ascetic would have it; +but of a spirit which does not intend to bury itself in abstract +self-seclusion away from the existential world, of a spirit which +passing beyond the cloister walls soars over the realm of nature, +induing it and subduing it instrumentally to its ends and as a mirror of +its will. So that for moderns, too, physical culture is spiritual +education, but for the reason that to us the body itself is spirit. Our +science is not merely a speculation of ultra-mundane truths, but rather +a science of man and of man in the Universe, and therefore also of this +nature which is dominated and spiritualised by becoming known, in the +same way that every book that is read is spiritualised. + +This concrete notion of a spirit which excludes nothing from itself +gives concreteness to the Christian conception of physical discipline. +For it aims to turn the body into an obedient tool of the will, not +however of that will which renounces the world, but of that will which +turns to the world as to the field where its battles are fought and won; +to the world which it transforms by its work, constantly re-creating it, +now modifying one part and now another, but always acting on the entire +system, and renewing it as a whole in the intimate organic connection +and interdependence of these parts; to the world which forever confronts +it in a rebellious and challenging attitude, and which it laboriously +subdues and turns into a mirror of its own becoming. + +Modern idealism and ancient naturalism both emphasise, though for +opposite motives, the importance of a positive education in distinction +to the negative discipline inculcated by mediaeval asceticism. We said +that to-day we develop the body because the body is spirit. This +proposition runs counter to common sense. But common sense as such +cannot be respected by the thinker unless he first transforms its +content. Our body, we must remember, is not one body out of many. If it +were actually mixed with and lost in the multitude of material things +which surround it, we could no longer speak of any bodies. For all +bodies, as psychologists say, are perceived in so far as they modify +ours and are somehow related to it. Or to put it in a different and +perhaps better way, all other bodies, which we possess as contents of +our experience, form a system, a circle, which has its centre; and this +centre is our body. These first of all occupy space, but a space which +no one of us can think of or intuit otherwise than as a radiating +infinity, the centre of which we occupy with our body. So that before we +can speak of bodies, we must first cognise our own. It is the foundation +and groundwork of all bodies. Justly, therefore, the immanent sense, +profound and continuous, which we have of our body, and whose +modifications constitute all our particular sensations, was called the +_fundamental sentiment_ by our Italian philosopher Rosmini. For our body +is ours only in so far as we feel it; and we feel it, at first, +confusedly or rather indistinctly, without discerning any differentiated +part. We feel it as the limit, the other, the opposite, the object of +our consciousness, which, were it not conscious of something (of itself +as of something), would not be consciousness, would not realise itself. +And it realises itself, in the first place, as consciousness of this +object which is the body. Accurately, therefore, was the body defined +by Spinoza as _objectum mentis_, as object of consciousness. Objectless +consciousness is not consciousness; and it is likewise obvious that the +object of consciousness cannot be such without consciousness. + +The two terms are inseparable, for the reason that they are produced +simultaneously by one and the same act, from which they cannot be +detached and this act is the free becoming of the spirit. + +Our body, this first object of consciousness, as yet indistinct and +therefore one and infinite, is not really in space, the realm of the +distinct, of the multiple, of the finite. It is within our own +consciousness. And it is only by recalling this inwardness that we are +able to understand how it happens that we ("We"--spiritual activity) act +upon our body, animating it, sustaining it, endowing it with our +vigorous and buoyant vitality; constantly transforming it, in very much +the same way that we act on what we easily conceive to be our moral +personality. As we direct our thoughts, and bringing them out of the +dark into the luminous setting of our consciousness, submit them to +scrutiny and correction, to elimination and selection; when we stifle or +feed the fire of our passions; when we cherish ideals, nourish them with +our own life's blood, and sustain them with our unbending resolve; and +again when we quench them in the fickleness of our whims, are we not +constantly creating and variously reshaping our spiritual life, making +it good or bad, that is, eagerly and scrupulously intent on the quest of +Truth or slothfully plunged in ignorance and forgetfulness? + +But our body, this inseparable companion, which is our own self, is no +particular limb, which as such might be removed from us. We remain what +we are, even though mutilated. Each part of our organism is ours, in +that it is fused in the sole and indistinguishable totality of our +living being,--our heart and our brain, as well as the phalanx of a +finger, if perchance we should be unable to live without it, and it +therefore effectively constituted our being. The distinction between +organs that are vital and organs that are not is an empirical one, and +relative to an observation which is true within the limits of ordinary +occurrence. + +If our body is the body which we perceive as ours, it is this one or +that one in accordance with our perception; and this perception +certainly is not arbitrary, but our own, subjective, to the point that, +in an abnormal way, one may cease to be in possession of his body and +thus to be no longer able to live in consequence of the loss of a +finger, or even of a hair. This hair then is a vital part, not because +it is a hair, but because it has been, insanely if you will, assumed and +absorbed in the distinct unity of our body. + +I shall try to make my thought clearer by the use of an example. The +organ of organs, as a great writer once said, is the hand, and we can +look at it from two quite distinct points of view. We may place our hand +on a table by the side of other hands, the hands of persons sitting +around us. We see its shape, its colour, its size, etc.; we compare it +with the others, and we almost forget it is ours, because then we do +not, in act, distinguish it from the remaining ones. In these +circumstances, it is evident that our hand is in our consciousness as a +material object, separated from every essential relationship with +us--with us as we are in the act of looking and comparing. This is the +external point from which we may view our hand. But there is another +one: the hand that picks up the pen as we are about to write is truly +our hand, the instrument of which we avail ourselves in order to ply +another tool which is needed for our work. In these circumstances our +right hand, instead of being for us one in the midst of many, as it was +in the case previously considered, is ours, the only one which we can +possibly use, as we endeavour to carry out our intention of writing, +which intention is our will to realise our personality in that +determined way, since doing a thing always means realising that +personality of ours which does that thing. Our hand in this case +coalesces so completely with our being that without it--the hand already +trained to write--we could not be ourselves. Abstractly, to be sure, we +should be ourselves. But it is the same story over again. What exists is +not the abstract but the concrete. And in the concrete, we, who are +about to write, are this determined personality, in which our will flows +into the hand; and just as we could not in truth distinguish our Self +from our will (we being nothing more and nothing less than this will of +ours), in the same way it would be impossible to distinguish between +"us" and our hand, between our will and our hand. Since the hand now +wields the pen, having perfected its instrumentality by means of this +latter, our will no longer leans upon and terminates in the hand, but it +flows on and presses into the point of the pen itself, through which, if +neither ink nor paper offers resistance, it empties into the stream of +writing. This writing which is read is Thought, whereby the writer finds +himself at the end in front of his own thinking, that is, in front of +himself; that self, which, considering the act materially, he seemed to +be leaving further and further behind, whereas in reality he was +penetrating into it more and more deeply. But in such a case and by the +act itself, can we effectively distinguish between thought, arm, hand, +writing material, the written page, that same page when read, and the +new thought? It is a circle made up of contiguous points, without gaps +or interruptions. It is one sole process, wherein in consequence of a +particular organisation of our personality, we place ourselves in front +of ourselves, and thus realise ourselves. The hand is ours because it is +not distinguished from us, nor, consequently, from the remaining limbs +of our body nor from its material surroundings. + +This, our hand, knows how to write because we have learned how to write: +in exactly the same way that our heart knows how to love, to dare and +renounce, by striving earnestly to see ourselves in others, to repress +the instinctive timidity of excessive prudence, and to break the force +of desire prompted by natural egoism. We are then what we want to be; +not merely in our passions and ideas, but in our limbs too, to the +extent that their being depends from their functions, and their +functions can be regulated by hygiene and exercise, which are our action +and our will. + +There is, of course, a natural datum which we cannot modify, which we +have to accept as a basis for further construction. But this limitation, +imposed on the truths I mentioned above, must be accepted without in any +way renouncing the truth itself, and should be understood by virtue of +both its scientific and moral values. This warning is not merely helpful +in connection with the question now before us, but will always prove +useful on account of its bearing on the many problems which arise from a +spiritualistic conception of life and cause shiftless philosophasters to +shy and balk. It is true that there is a body which we did not give to +ourselves, which therefore is not a product of our spirit, nor part of +its life and substance, but only if we think of the body of the +individual, empirically considered as such. In this sense I am not +self-produced. The son can ascribe to his parents the imperfection that +mars his whole existence, whatever kind of life he may decide to lead. +The man who was born blind may blame his affliction upon cruel nature. +But the child who calls his parents to account, and the man who +complains of nature, is man as a particular; he is one of many men, one +of the animals, one of the beings, one of the infinite things wielded by +_Man_ (that man to whom we must always refer, when we wish to recall +that even if the world is not all spirit, there is at least a little +corner therein set aside for it); he is one of the infinite things which +Man gathers and unifies in his own thought because he is thought. The +particular man is man as he is being _thought_, who refers us to the +_thinking_ man as to the true man. This true man is also an individual, +not as a part but as the whole, and comprehends all within itself. And +in this man, parents and children are the same man. In it men and nature +are, likewise, one and the same, man or spirit in its universality. We +(each one of us) are one and the other of these men; but we are one of +them, the smaller one, only in that we are the other one, the larger +one, and we ought not to expect the small to take the place of the large +and to act in his stead. All our errors and all our sins are caused by +substituting one in place of the other. + +And what is more, the large, the all embracing, the infinite, is +present in the small with all his infinitude. Personality as such, in +its actuality, does not shrink and restrict itself to the singular and +particular man. Within those boundaries which are only visible from +the outside, it internally expatiates to infinity, absorbing in +itself and surmounting all limitations. The man born blind does not +know the marvels and the wondrous beauties of nature which gladden the +eyes and the soul of the seeing man. But his soul pours out none the +less over the infinity of harmonies and of thought. And the blind man +who once saw, in the consciousness of his sightlessness, cherishes the +boundless image of the world once seen, and magnifies it indefinitely +by the aid of the imagination. He even heals the wounds and soothes +the pain of blindness by making it objective through reflection; and +the personality, at any event, always victoriously breaks out of the +narrow cell in which it might seem to be confined. So that in the +depths of even the gloomiest dungeon a ray of light always peers +through, to lighten and comfort the soul of man in misery, and to +restore to him the entire and therefore infinite liberty of creating +for himself a world of his own. + +We can therefore say that man, he that lives--not the one which is seen +from the outside, but the thinking and the willing man, who is a +personality in the act--never submits to a nature which is not his own. +He shapes his own nature, beginning with his body, and gradually from +it magnifying the effect of his power, and crowding the environing +space, which is his, with the creatures he gives life to. We must not +consider the smaller man whom we see confined to a few square feet and +at the mercy of the passing instant. We must intently look upon that +other one who has done and still continues to do all the beautiful +things on which we thrive, on that one who is humanity, the spirit. We +must consider his power, which is thought and work (work, that is, as +thought); and ponder over this material world in which we live, all +blocked out, as it is, measured, and traversed by forces which we +bridle, accumulate and release, at pleasure,--this world which has been +altered from its former state, and has been made as we now see it fit +for human habitation, which has been joined to us, assimilated to our +life, spiritualised. When we have done all this we shall see how +impossible it is to disconnect nature from the spirit, and to think the +former without the latter. Nature may be dissociated from the natural +man, that is, one of its parts may be isolated from the remainder. But +such man of nature is not the one who rules over nature: he is not Volta +who clutches the electric current and transforms the earth; he is not +Michel Angelo who transfigures marble and creates the Moses. + +Physical education, then, is not superadded to the education of the +spirit, but is itself education of the spirit. It is the fundamental +part of this education, in as much as the body is, in the sense we have +used the words, the seat of our spiritual personality. Living means +constructing one's own body, because living is thinking, and thinking is +self-consciousness; but this consciousness is possible only if we make +it objective, and the object as such is the body (our body). For as +consciousness is, so is the body. There is no thinking which is not also +doing. Thinking not only builds up the brain, but the rest of the body +besides. We may call it will, but then there is not one single act of +thought which is not the mental activity indicated by this word "will." +Without will we should have no bodily substance, in as much as the body +is always and primarily life, and living is impossible without willing. +What are called involuntary movements are not really such; they differ +from the so-called voluntary in that they are constant, immanent, so +much so that we can after all interrupt them. Without the exercise of +our will we could never hold ourselves erect and keep our feet, but +would forever be stumbling and falling; unless we willed it, the power +which keeps every organ in its place, and maintains all the organs in +the circle of life, would be annihilated. Therefore _morale_, as they +say, is a very considerable aid in curing the diseases of the body. It +is on this account that societies and religious sects have arisen which +make of moral faith an instrument of physical well-being. For the same +reason, also, it is impossible for the psychiatrists to draw a line +separating mental troubles from bodily ailments. The force of the will, +the vigour of the personality, the impulse of the spirit in its +becoming, this is the wondrous power which galvanises matter and +organically quickens it; which sustains life, equips it, and fits it for +its march towards ever renewed, ever improved finalities. It is not +temperament which is the basis of character, but character which is the +basis of temperament. If we reverse this proposition, every moral +conception of life becomes absurd, and every spiritual value appears +ineffectual. Don Abbondio then ceases to be wrong, and Cardinal Federico +Borromeo is no longer right. + +Character too is an empirical concept, and like all such concepts, it +has a truthfulness which is not clearly discernible, but dimly visible. +Character signifies rational personality, using the term rationality to +mean, not the movement or the becoming which belongs peculiarly to +reason as the form of spiritual activity, but the coherence of the +object on which this activity is fixed, which coherence in turn consists +in the harmony whereby it is possible to think all the parts of +objective thought as forming a single whole, in that there is no +conflict or contradiction among them, and in as much as the object +remains always the same throughout all these particulars. If in the +course of reasoning we introduce conflicting statements which cannot +possibly be referred to the same thing, we cannot be said to reason. +Rationality is the permanence of the being of which we think: it is +firmness of conception, stability of a law which we apply to all +particulars that come under its sway. For the object of consciousness is +characterised, in respect to the act which constitutes it, by this +stability and immutability. What we think is _that_ and no other, +whereas thought, by which we think it, is a becoming and a continuous +change. + +But the character of man is in the object, in the contents of his +thought, in what he gradually builds himself up to, in the determined +personality which he constitutes by thinking, or, in other words, _in +his body_. But body, be it remembered, in an idealistic sense, body as a +system, forming, with its law and its configuration, the solid basis of +every ulterior development. This truth, vaguely accepted by common +sense, which looks upon a strong constitution as a preliminary to a +sound character, will appear in its full light only after it has been +stripped of the fantastic and material attributes which it receives from +a realistically vulgar way of conceiving the body materially. For it is +evident that a feeble and sickly man may yet have a steel-like +character. Farinata, who stands "erect with breast and brow," as though +he held Hell in contempt: Giordano Bruno, who amidst the flames that +already consume his flesh disdainfully turns his eyes from the symbol of +the religion which had thrust him on the stake, are evident examples of +a strength of mind with no relation to their physical powers, which were +already destroyed or about to be scattered by an irresistible might. +Leopardi is right when he scornfully protests that his ill health is not +the cause of that sad pessimism which in his mind solemnly challenges +"the unseemly hidden Power." + +Character is physical robustness to the extent that this latter is +spiritual haleness, and in so far as it is compact, firm, steadfast +thought. Thought in this respect appears externally as body, not subject +to the hostile forces that perpetually beset it from without and from +within; and on account of the intrinsic spirituality of its substance, +it is a law rather than a fact, and a process or a tendency rather than +a fixed and established manner of being. For organic endurance, which is +really what we mean by health, does not consist in muscular development +or in the bloom of an exuberant constitution, but rather in an +indwelling power, in dynamically persistent and tenacious struggle and +adaptation, in the capacity of self-preservation, of self-affirmation, +which is the specific essence of spiritual being. + +This body, in which thought organises and consolidates itself; this +body, by means of which thought is enabled to press on its vigorous +development, reabsorbing in its actual present the past accomplishment, +and to proceed on its ascent, scaling the height step by step, never +sliding downward, because every grade it builds remains as a firm +support of the next one;--this is man's character, which is not an +attribute of the will considered as practical activity in +contra-distinction to theoretic activity. Character is an attribute of +the spirit _qua_ spirit, without any adjectives. We may, if we will, +distinguish the practical from the theoretical man, the soundness of the +will from intellectual originality. But just as it is not possible to +conceive of a really fruitful and constructive practical activity +without that coherence of design and self-supporting volitional +continuity which constitute character, in the same way intelligence and +ingenuity will not become manifest without firmness of purpose, without +persevering reflection and study of the object, and without stability of +this object of intellectual activity, which again constitute character. +If character is set as the basis of morality, then every science and +every form of culture, even those which aim at evil, considered in +themselves, as the life of the intelligence must have a moral value, +must be governed by an inviolable law. By spiritual steadfastness, which +is the condition of spiritual productivity, man sacrifices himself to an +ideal and constitutes his moral personality, whether he die for his +country or whether he labour to bring light amid his thoughts. Life in +all its phases is the untiring fulfilment of duty. + +To conclude then, physical education must be encouraged, but as +spiritual training and as formation of character. Gymnastic exercise, +therefore, far from being the only way to this end, may even lead in the +opposite direction; and it will do so as long as it is considered apart +from the remainder of education, with a particular scope of its own, and +with heterogeneous contents in respect to spiritual education properly +so-called. The teacher of physical education must always bear in mind +that he is not dealing with _bodies_, bodies to be moved around, to be +lined up, or rushed around a track. He too is training souls, and +collaborates with all the other teachers in the moral preparation and +advancement of mankind. If, in addition to his special qualifications, +he does not possess culture enough to enable him to discern the spirit +beyond the body, and to understand therefore the moral value of order, +of precision, of gracefulness, of agility, by which man externally +realises his personality, he will no doubt fulfil the ordinary demands +of physical culture, but he will just as certainly antagonise and +disgust those of his pupils who are most highly gifted and otherwise +better trained, and he can therefore lay no claim to the title of +educator. + +Education then is either one or not effective. The assumption that there +are many kinds of education leads to very disastrous results. Education +is one; and as a whole it appears unchanged in each one of the parts +that we ordinarily distinguish in it, according as we approach the human +spirit now from one side and now from the other. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE IDEAL OF EDUCATION + +ART AND RELIGION + + +We have shown in the previous chapters the necessity of rigorously +maintaining the unity of education, of resisting every attempt at +separation, of opposing all systems which treat the various parts of +education as though they could be kept distinct in practice and theory. +There still remains a question which naturally arises at this juncture, +and which we must try to answer. For true it is, some one might say, +that moral and intellectual education are one and the same thing, and +true it may be that education of the mind and culture of the body work +for the same results; and it may also be admitted that education being +formation, or development, that is, the becoming of the spirit, and the +spirit consisting in its becoming or rather in becoming pure and simple, +it follows that education means spirit and nothing more. But granting +all this, was it really worth while? When we have attained this notion +of the unity which is always the same, no matter under how many aspects +it may present itself, what have we gained? Have we here anything more +than a word? One says "spirit," another might say "God," or "nature," +or "matter," or some such thing, and there would not be much difference. +It might well be that in the course of the inquiry into the attributes +of the spirit, a way was found to invest our word with quite a different +meaning; but still, after we have defined and distinguished the concept +of the spirit from all the others, we have not progressed much. We may +have the satisfaction of continuing to see before us this concept, with +no possibility of ever ridding ourselves of its presence, but how much +will we know of the contents that this spirit is supposed to have? What +are the principles that should govern this education, which has been +clearly stated to be not a natural fact, but a free action, and +therefore a selection enlightened by consciousness, by reflection, and +by reason? + +This suggested objection is not a purely imaginary one. Very often +superficial critics, forgetting that pedagogical problems pertain to +philosophy and are therefore problems of the spirit, awkwardly try to +solve them by the insufficient light of common sense. In so doing they +warn us that in idealistic pedagogics all particular and definite +concepts vanish, and what remains is a vague confused indistinctness of +no practical utility to the teacher. + +And truly, if the only result obtained by idealistic pedagogics were the +demonstration that many concepts, ordinarily considered to be +substantially different, are in reality identical, we should not +hesitate to call such philosophical knowledge useless and ridiculous. +But in the first place we must notice that this assumed deficiency +charged against us has partially been shown to be non-existent by the +exposition of our doctrine, which reduces education to free spiritual +becoming, and resolves the apparent multiplicity of educational forms in +the immultiplicable unity of this becoming, outside of which nothing is +truly conceivable. + +For the defect of our system was assumed in connection with an exigency +which divides itself into two parts, respectively corresponding to the +form and to the matter of education. For many of the pedagogical errors +which we have pointed out were seen to be imputable, not to the choice +of an unsuitable content of education, but to the criterion adopted in +treating this content. I have already spoken of my disinclination to +accomplish a mere negative task; and in the last chapter, while +denouncing the materialistic conception of physical education, I +certainly did not spare the ascetic view which knows of no body other +than the one which harasses the spirit and hinders its progress toward +the ultimate good; and thereupon I tried to show that physical culture +is spiritual education endowed with that self-same nature which belongs +to education when considered as formation of the will and of the +intellect. But this does not mean that our thesis reduces itself to a +mere theoretic transvaluation or to a new abstract interpretation of +our present educative system, which however in practice could not be +affected by this purely theoretical difference of interpretation. I +tried to make it clear that our conception is not devoid of practical +import, and that it does lead to a reform in education and to a new +orientation of the school. This was especially brought out in connection +with physical culture in the preceding chapter, when I insisted on the +necessity that physical instructors be trained in such a way that their +mental equipment shall not be limited to notions that refer exclusively +to the body in its physical limitations: but that in addition to +physiology, anatomy, and hygiene, they be made familiar also with those +studies and disciplines that are more intimately connected with +character, with the soul, and with the mind. + +But besides this, our entire investigation dealing with the reasons for +an absolutely spiritualistic conception of education should have made it +very clear that it is not possible to entertain these new conceptions +without introducing in the school a new spirit, which will not yield to +the realistic vogue and to the materialistic, pedantic, old-fashioned +education,--a spirit which will bring before us a new duty in every +instant of our teaching life and in every word we utter, and which will +impress us with the necessity of acting differently from what has been +taught by the followers of traditional pedagogical routine. Whatever +the subject may be, the form of education has to be in accord with +something that should by now be the common possession of us all, namely, +the consciousness of the intimate spirituality and of the sacred freedom +of our work, which operates not in the material schools but within the +souls of our pupils. There it gives rise not to incidents that are +unessential to that greater world which is the aim of our religiously, +serious outlook on life, but to a process in which All is involved. The +speculative side then of this form of education is not a useless and +abstract theory, but a necessary moment of the moral improvement, of the +spiritual enhancement, and of the general regeneration of teaching. +Indifference to this reform, and the belief that men may continue to +educate without bothering with the subtle problems of philosophy, mean a +failure to understand the precise nature of education. + +But the question of the content of education is a different one. Having +identified education with spiritual reality itself, it follows that the +two determinations of the content of the latter belong to the content of +the former. One of these determinations is historical in character; it +advances as the history of the human mind progresses, assuming now this +and now that aspect in accordance with the prevailing spiritual +interests. We who have censured the conception of pre-established +programmes, as being most dangerous prejudices of pedagogical realism, +could not very well presume to determine here in the abstract, the +content of every possible form of education for all places and all +times. The school, like every other form of education, develops; and as +it grows, it constantly changes its content, which again is nothing else +than the content that the spirit gives to itself at every moment of its +concrete development. + +It would be just as irrational to expect a school to map out with +precision the limits and the scope of a pupil's culture. Of all the +culture carved out for him at school, a boy will absorb only that much +which is taken up by the autonomous growth of his personality. This will +be supplemented and integrated by the culture which he gets outside of +the classroom, in all possible walks of life, and will be so personal +and of such a character as to admit of no prevision or pre-determination +even on the part of the learner himself. Away with pre-established +programmes then of any description! Spiritual activity works only in the +plenitude of freedom. Horace asks: _Currente rota cur urceus exit?_ We +answer: Whether an _urceus_ or not, what always comes from the _rota_ is +something which cannot be foreseen, for the very simple reason that what +is foreseen is not the future but the past, which we (as in the case of +experimental sciences) project into the future, whereas the spirit is a +creation which occurs not in time but in a never-setting present. + +So every abstract discussion of the possible content of education in +general, or of any given particular school, must appear crude and +absurd, if we recall that education reflects the historical development +of the spirit. What we need to do is to wait, observe, and have faith. +For God will reveal himself to us; and God is the very Spirit of ours +which at every moment prescribes its law to itself and thus determines +its own content. + +The other of the two determinations mentioned above is the _ideal_, or, +as we perhaps might more precisely call it, the _transcendental_. It +pertains to that spiritual content which never changes as it passes +through the various historical determinations, and which might therefore +be styled the "determiner of the intrinsic and absolute essence of the +spirit." This content upon careful consideration reveals itself as form, +and more precisely as the form of the historically determined content of +the spirit; or again as the concreteness of that form which has been +attributed to the spirit considered in itself, which is a becoming. But +_qua_ becoming, and irrespective of all special aspects with which it +historically configures itself, the spirit has already a content of its +own, which cannot be absent from any of its historical configurations. +In them this content will manifest itself over and over again, but +constantly modified by the changes that are being historically produced. +Under these varying modes and presentations it permanently abides as +the indefectible substance of the spirit. This substance, this ideal +spirit which becomes actual in history, cannot be ignored by any kind of +pedagogics which aspires to a thorough knowledge of the essence of +education. + +Having thus formulated the problem, and clinging firmly to the principle +of educational unity, we may distinguish the forms of education which +proceed from the ideal content of the spirit. But we must always +keep in mind that, as these forms are only distinguishable ideally, +they can in no way be effectively separated, and must be found in +every concrete educative act. So that their synthesis and their +complete immanence is the concreteness of educational unity in its +opposition to what I have called fragmentary education. Our distinction +then will turn out to be an exact logical analysis, which analyses only +the terms of a synthesis and cannot therefore be dissociated from the +synthesis. By analysing and by synthesising, by determining the +spiritual unity without disconnecting or in any way dissociating its +intrinsic ideal determinations, we strive to represent the ideal of +education. + +In making a rapid survey of this analysis, I must refer back to what was +said of the attributes of the spirit,--that the spirit _is_ in that it +_becomes_, that it becomes in so far as it acquires self-consciousness, +that its being therefore is consciousness in the act of being acquired. +This act is surely self-consciousness, and it does mean cognition, but +a cognition which differs from all others in that it has for its object +that very one who cognises. And this is the meaning of "I," identity of +subject and object,--an identity, however, that because of its curious +nature needs to be carefully examined. It was shown in a preceding +chapter that two things, to be thought as two, must yet be thought as +one by virtue of the unique relationship which makes their duality +possible. Here we observe the inverse: identity of subject and object +means that in addition to the subject there is--nothing; it means +therefore unity. And yet this unity would in no manner be intelligible +if it were not also a duality, if, in other words, the identity of +subject and object were not also the difference between them. + +To distinguish A from B, an initial, elementary minimum difference is +required. It is the difference, called _otherness_, by which B is other +than A. Without this otherness there would not be A and B, but either A +alone or B alone. The subject as it knows itself is certainly not +another from the subject alone. But if it did not become _other_ to +itself, if it were not object also, as well as subject, it would never +know itself. To be object as well as subject implies the necessity of +distinguishing these two terms, and shows that there is otherness +between them. If it sounds harsh to speak of something that first is +"_one_" and then is "_two_," we might state the situation in a +different and perhaps simpler way. We might say that the subject would +not know itself, if remaining always that one and self-same subject, it +were not both subject and object to itself. + +Consciousness implies this self-alteration of the subject, which by +placing itself as an object in front of itself realises itself, it being +real only as self-consciousness. This is the import of the identity of +the two terms, subject and object; or of the difference intrinsic to the +one, which is but another way of stating it. We may insist as much as we +want on the identity of the "I," but it will always be true that this +"I" is real only in virtue of its intrinsic difference. And conversely +we may insist, as it is more often done, on the difference between the +subjective moment of the "I," whereby the "I" is set in opposition to +all its objects, and the objective moment in which the ego vanishes. But +behind the difference, identity is always to be found. Man, the more he +thinks, the more he alters himself, the more objective that reality +becomes which he realises by self-consciousness, the more fully he sees +the variation, the development, the growth, the enhancement of the +object--the world he knows. + +The spirit's being is its alteration. The more it _is_,--that is, the +more it becomes, the more it lives,--the more difficult it is for it to +recognise itself in the object. It might therefore be said that he who +increases his knowledge also increases his ignorance, if he is unable +to trace this knowledge back to its origin, and if the spirit's rally +does not induce him to rediscover himself at the bottom of the object, +which has been allowed to alter and alienate itself more and more from +the secret source of its own becoming. Thus it happens, as was said of +old, that "He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." All human +sorrow proceeds from our incapacity to recognise ourselves in the +object, and consequently to feel our own infinite liberty. + +Subject then and object, and in their synthesis, in their living unity, +the spirit, which therefore is neither a subject standing against an +object, nor its opposite. The two terms, each one for itself, isolated, +are equivalent. But every time human thought has isolated them, whether +striving to conceive itself, its own spiritual substance, objectively +(God), or as a simple subject (a particular man), it has ever reached +most desperate conclusions, now totally blocking its way to the +comprehension and justification of its own subjectivity, and now +secluding itself in an abstract subjectivity, removed from _all_ which +man theoretically and practically needs in order to live. The reality of +the spirit is not in the subject as opposed to the object, but in the +subject that has in itself the object as its actuality. + +It is on account of this inseverable unity, by which the subject presses +to itself the object and becomes actual therein, that the progressive +alteration of the object is also the progressive alteration of the +subject. At every given moment, the subject, altered as it is, made into +the "other" or determined, is yet pure subject, and nothing else than +the subject which becomes conscious of itself, and therefore actual by +determining itself as subject of its object, in such a way that the +subject as well as the object is always new and always different. Not +because it is now one subject and now another, in which case succession +and enumeration would import multiplicity, and would therefore reduce +the spirit to a thing; but because it appears and cannot but appear +thus, if observed from the point of view which distinguishes one +individual from another, and in the same individual one instant from the +next, although from a rigorously idealistic point of view the spirit is +one, and its determinateness does not detract from its absolute +originality. + +This dialectic in which the spiritual becoming unfolds itself (subject, +object, and unity of subject and object), this self-objectifying or +self-estrangement aiming at self-attainment,--this is the eternal life +of the spirit, which creates its immortal forms, and determines the +ideal contents of culture and education. The spirit's self-realisation +is the realisation of the subject, of the object, and of their +relationship. If of these three terms (the third being the synthesis of +the first and second) any one should fail, the spiritual reality would +cease to be. + +This threefold realisation admits empirically of a separation that makes +it possible to have one without the others. On the strength of this +triple division we speak of art, of religion, and of philosophy, as +though each one of them could subsist by itself. So that commonly people +believe that it is possible to be a poet without in any way burdening +one's mind with religion or philosophy,--especially philosophy, which +appears to be the bugbear of most poets. In the same way many +philosophers, and among them one of the very greatest, held art to be +the negation of philosophy, to the point that it should be banished from +the kingdom where the latter was expected to reign. And how often has +religion taken up arms, now against poetry, and now against speculation! +All of these occurrences were possible because the three terms were +looked upon as separable, as though they were three material things, +each one of which could be what it was only on condition that it +excluded the others. + +A superficial understanding of the differences intervening between these +three terms is the reason why they are often looked upon as separable. +But in reality they are so indissolubly conjoined, that separation would +destroy their spiritual character, and put in its place mechanism, which +is the property of all that is not spirit. + +Art is the self-realisation of the spirit as subject. Man becomes +enfolded in his subjectivity, and hears but the voice of love or other +inward summons. Living without communication with the world, he refrains +from affirming and denying what exists and what does not exist. He +simply spreads out over his own abstract interior world, and dreams; and +as he dreams, he escapes from the outer bustle into the seclusion of his +enchanted realm, which is true in itself until he issues from it and +discovers it to be a figment of his phantasy. This man is the artist, +who, we might say, neither cognises nor acts, but sings. + +His subjectivity appears empirically to us always as a determined +subjectivity, the determination of which proceeds from the object in +which the spirit, theoretically and practically, has previously +objectified itself. But this priority of the act, by which the artist is +considered a man of this objective world before he withdraws into +his dreams, is a mere empirical appearance. If we relied on it, we +could not preserve to the spirit in its artistic life that originality +and autonomy, that absolute spontaneity and freedom, which is the +essential character or, as we called it, the attribute of spiritual +activity. To become objective, the spirit must first be subject; and in +front of the object in which it objectifies itself, it again inevitably +becomes subject,--an ever determined one indeed, but nothing else than +a subject. That is why the contemporary theory of aesthetics holds that +form in art absorbs in itself the content, with no residuum. It +absorbs it _qua_ subjectivity; for whatever the object be which this +subjectivity, empirically considered, has enwrapped, it draws it +entirely over to itself, reassumes it, and as pure subjectivity it +cannot return to its object without passing through the moment of its +opposition to the object,--the moment in which the subject is +nothing else than subject, and finds in itself infinite gratification. +This is the realm of art, a realm from which the spirit, in consequence +of the very function of the subject, is compelled to issue; since +the subject is subject in that it issues from itself, becomes +self-conscious, objectifies itself. So the poet as he dreams breathes +life into the personages of his dreams, builds them up, and gives +them reality. What is his own abstract subjectivity he chooses as a +world in which he himself may live absolutely; and the ideas which +mature in that fantastic world of his--which is nothing more, as I +have said, than his abstract subjectivity--are affirmed by him without +any reserves, and are opposed to the ideas of philosophers and of +men who prefer concrete reality to phantasy. + +This lyrical bent, peculiar to the artist who enhances himself by +exalting his own abstract individuality, is in direct contrast with the +tendency of the Saint, who crushes and annihilates this same +individuality in the face of his God,--that God who infinitely occupies +his consciousness as the "other" in absolute alterity to him, so that +the subject is hurled into the object in a total self-abstraction. It +sinks in the contemplation of its own self in its objective "otherness," +of itself become the other, in which it no longer recognises itself. So +he deifies this other self, places it on the altar, and kneels before +it. Thus the saint's personality is nullified; or rather, it is +actualised and realised in this self-annulment, which is the theoretical +and practical characteristic of mysticism and the specific act of +religion. + +It is not possible to tear art from the spirit's life, in as much as it +could not be the synthesis it actually is without being subjectivity. It +is equally impossible for the spirit to be completely devoid of +religiosity. The mystic flower of faith grows out of the bosom of +art,--a faith in an object which draws the soul to itself and conquers +it. The life of the spirit is an eternal crossing from art to religion, +from the subject to the object. It is impossible for the artist to +realise his art in unalloyed purity, since his world, the world he has +created for himself, is nevertheless the bigger world, out of which, +empirically speaking, he is driven only by the needs of practical life, +which awaken him and remind him of the existence of a wider world. In +the same way it is impossible to realise a pure religion in which the +subject completely and effectually might annihilate itself. For in the +measure that faith increases in intensity, and the sentiment of one's +own nothingness grows deeper, and the idea that the object is all +becomes more obsessing, in that same measure the energy of the spirit +increases, of the spirit as the subject that has been powerful enough to +create this situation. Altars must be built in order that people may +kneel in front of them. The concept of God, it, too, has a history. And +from this history no word can be taken away on the assumption that it +was immediately _revealed_. For there is no word which pre-exists as +such before the act of him who cognises it. And to fix a dogma, that is, +to rescue it from the flow of evolution, we should have to withdraw from +the course of evolution the men themselves who are to accept it. + +Nothing therefore is more impious than the history of religion, in the +course of which man, now dragging his God down to the depths of his +apparent misery, now lifting him to the heights of his real greatness, +progresses from station to station along the unending way of sorrows and +joys. The process of mental development shows unwittingly, by the very +acts of man's innocent piety, that God is _his_ God, that the life of +the object is the same as the life of the subject. + +The nature then both of art and of religion implies a flagrant +contradiction which comes to this,--that the subject to be subject is +object, and the object to be object is subject. Hence the torments of +the poet and the spasms of the mystic. A perfect art and a perfect +religion, that is, art which is not religion, and religion which is not +art, are two impossibilities. This does not mean that either art or +religion can ever be superseded and left behind as two illusions, +ancient and constant, if we will, but none the less devoid of all value. +The very contrary of this is true. Just because there is no pure art, +religion is eternal; and art is eternal, because religion cannot be +attained in its absolute purity. + +The concrete spirit is neither subject nor object. It is a +self-objectifying subject, and an object which becomes the subject in +virtue of the subjectivity that alights on it as it realises it. The +spirit is therefore a becoming. It is the synthesis, the unity of these +two opposites, ever in conflict and yet always intimately joined. And +the spirit, as this unity, is the concreteness both of art (reality of +the abstract subject) and of religion (reality of the abstract object). +It is philosophy. Many definitions have been given of philosophy, and +all of them true, because directly or indirectly they may, on the +strength of what is expressed or what is understood, be reduced to the +following definition: that philosophy is the spirit. If we say that it +is the science of the spirit, we indulge in a useless pleonasm. For +science, unless we distinguish in an absolute manner (which is +impossible) one grade of determinateness from the other, is the same as +consciousness; and spirit is, as we have seen, self-consciousness. If we +say that philosophy is the science of reality in its universality, we +lose sight of the fact that reality, for those who do not stray off into +the maze of abstractness, _is_ the spirit. A definition which has never +lost its value is that one which makes philosophy consist in the +elaboration of concepts, that is, in the unification of all the concepts +(those we possess, of course) into a coherent concept. This is an +excellent definition, and it warns us that philosophy is not obtained by +stopping before abstractions, no matter what these abstractions may be. +All particular things are abstractions, each one of which yields a +concept, and all of them give a number of concepts, which must be +brought together and unified, if we ever intend to think all things that +are thought, and thus philosophise. The subject without the object as +the artist wants it is an abstraction; and similarly abstract is the +object which religion looks up to. + +We are accustomed, not without reason, to distinguish the life of the +spirit from philosophy. But the reason, instead of destroying, confirms +the identity between spirit and philosophy, and for the following cause. +The spirit never being what it ought to be, we live acquiring +consciousness of ourselves. But when we pause to ask ourselves if we +have really obtained this consciousness, and turn to our life as to the +subject-matter of this problem, which is the problem of philosophy, we +discover that we cannot answer in the affirmative. For answering is +spiritual living, a living, therefore, which consists not in having +self-consciousness but in acquiring it. So that philosophy does not +arise from the need of understanding the life already lived, for the +past is the realm of death; but rather from the much keener desire of +living, of leading a better life, a true life, and of finally realising +this spiritual reality which is our ideal. But when? + +Can we believe that there is ever going to be a philosophy which will +definitely fulfil the ideal? It is obvious that a pursuit of such +philosophy would lead the spirit into a race to death; whereas on the +contrary the spirit is life; it is an impulse to ever more intense +living. + +This philosophy, it is evident, is not the exclusive, esoteric classroom +discipline, the professional privilege of a few specialists. It is +rather the source from which this professional speculation derives its +right to address all men who have an exalted sentiment of their human +dignity, who hearken to the deeper utterances of their souls, who are +able to see how much of their own self there is in this vast world which +is being disclosed to their eyes; who, even though vaguely and timidly, +are conscious of the divine power that resides in every human heart; who +feel that this human heart, prone though it be to all baseness, is also +capable of lifting itself to the most sublime heights, and of enjoying +the pure and lofty satisfactions which human phantasy ordinarily +relegates to heaven. In the depths of every mind there is a philosophy: +the mind itself is untiring speculation, which more or less successfully +scales the height, but which is always turned upward to the summit +whitened by the rising sun. Life is made human by the rays of this +philosophy. Man is really man when he recognises an object which is the +world, reality, law, and when he recalls that nothing absolves him from +the duty of being in this world; of seriously being in it, which means +working and cooperating towards reality by knowing reality and +fulfilling the law. For in his freedom and power he can never divest +himself of his own responsibility; he must therefore develop his +capacity to the utmost value, and to that end work and work, think, and +act as the centre of his world. This philosophy does not allow him +either to withdraw into the abstract retirement of his egoistic self, or +to deny and sacrifice this self to an imaginary reality. This philosophy +is never finished, never completed, for it is his own spirit, his very +self, which to live must grow, and which must constitute itself as it +develops. And therefore this philosophy cannot help being man's ideal, +which is always being realised and which is never fulfilled. + +So, then, education, which aims at that concrete and truly real unity +which is the life of the spirit, must always be moral, always spiritual, +always philosophic. An invidious word, perhaps, for those who have had +the misfortune to fall into the mean and vulgar habit of grinning and +scoffing in retaliation for the unsparing censure inflicted by the ideal +on sloth, presumption, and cowardice. We might perhaps replace this word +by "integral," excepting that this adjective is generic and therefore +inappropriate. + +I must add, however, that in speaking of philosophic education, I do not +mean any special course in philosophy. Though I believe that special +philosophical training has an essential function in the curriculum of +secondary schools which aim to prepare and direct towards higher studies +a matured mentality, scientifically trained and humanly inspired, I yet +hold that this special philosophical training can be effectual only if +all education, from its very beginning, wherever that may be, has been +philosophic. We must reflect that just as it is impossible for a man to +be moral only at certain hours of the day, and in certain particular +places, morality being the atmosphere without which the spirit cannot +live, so that ethical teaching is distorted and deflected as soon as it +is relegated to certain definite books, to be studied in connection with +certain definite courses; in the same way this philosophy which is for +us the ideal content of education, and therefore its ideal, cannot but +be present in every real educative act, cannot help reflecting itself in +every throb it gives to the soul of the pupil. This general philosophic +education naturally includes art and religion, which cannot be limited +subject-matters of special courses of instruction, co-ordinated or +subordinated to the other elements of the curriculum. + +Only the particular sciences, that is, the sciences properly so called, +may be freely moved in a student's schedule; they may be added or taken +away, they may be grouped this or that way, and be variously distributed +in accordance with the needs of the moment and the particular exigencies +of the student or of man in general. For these sciences reflect in +themselves the fragmentary multiplicity of things which have been +abstractly cut off from the centre of the spirit, to which however they +too refer. And because they do refer to it, the teaching of them should +be spiritualised, moralised, humanised; it ought to acquire the +concreteness of philosophy, and therefore never ignore the exigencies of +art and of religion. For otherwise it will be merely material +instruction, "informative education," which in reality is no education +at all. + +During the Revival of Learning education was humanistic. Its ideal was +art. The historical life which corresponded to this ideal was the +individualism of our Italian Renaissance. After the Counter Reformation, +art, which is individuality in abstract subjectivity, was abandoned to +itself, and inevitably decayed in the cult of lifeless form; it became +barren in the imitations of classical art considered as final +perfection, to which the individual might raise himself but beyond which +he could not possibly proceed. Art became thus the negation of +originality, and of that subjective autonomy of which it naturally +should be the most enhancing expression. So that classicism up to the +Romantic Revolt remained the cultural form of a society submissive to +the principle of authority and religiously oriented. These conditions +favoured the study of the science of nature, which to the extent that it +is governed by the naturalistic principle is a manifestation of +religiosity. The devotee of natural science speaks in fact of his Nature +with an agnostic reverence similar to that professed by the saint in the +worship of God. Nature, which alone he knows, becomes the object before +which the subject, Man, disappears. But as science progresses, the need +of shaking the principle of authority makes itself felt; the accepted +truths of nature are subjected to criticism; the power of doubting is +reintroduced, and the subject again reasserts itself. So the advancement +of natural science has gradually turned humanity away from the shrines +of naturalistic science. When naturalism opposed the claims of religion, +it ceased to be the science of nature, and became philosophy. This +influenced the scientific spirit in its clash with religious dogmas, and +restored to it the consciousness of the moment of subjectivity which had +been forgotten. The ideal of culture, which prevailed in the nineteenth +century with the triumph of positivism, was science, naturalism, and +therefore religion. It is now high time that the two opposed elements +be joined and united, and that the school be neither abstractly +humanistic in the pursuit of Art nor abstractly religious and +scientific, but that it be made what it is ideally, and what it is also +in practice when it efficaciously educates--the philosophic school. + + * * * * * + +As each one has a different path to follow in this world, each one will +accordingly have his own education. But all paths converge to one point, +where we all gather to lead in common that universal life which alone +makes us men. And as we meet at this centre, we must understand each +other, and should be able therefore to speak the same language, the +language of the spirit. We are compelled by an irresistible need to live +this common life, and together to constitute one sole spirit. But this +end we shall never attain if man, who ought to be entire and complete, +acts as a mere fragment,--such fragment, for example, as the aesthete, or +the superstitious worshipper, or the star gazer, always unaware of the +pit under his feet. If we continue in this state, in which one man +clings to the superstition of mathematics, another idolises entomology, +a third worships physics, and so on indefinitely, if man insists on +fencing off his little piece of this "thrashing-floor that makes us +cruel," knowing no other man but himself, feeling no needs other than +his own, then war will break out. Not a disciplined war, governed by a +law, by an idea, by reason, of which it is the life; but a war of every +man against his brother,--the anarchistic uprising, the disintegration +of the spirit, and the stern suffering which is true misery. + +The dislike for the _purus mathematicus_[5] is traditional. But whether +he be a mathematician, or a priest, or an economist, or a dentist, or a +poet, or a street cleaner, man as a fragment of humanity is a nuisance. + +We want mathematics, but we want it _in_ the man. And the same for +religion, economics, poetry, and all the rest. Otherwise we suffocate, +and die stifled. For all these are things, but there is no life; and +things oppress us and kill us. Therefore let us spiritualise things by +reviving the spirit. Let us release it, that it may freely move in the +organic unity of nature. Let us train it so that its strength, agility, +balance, and all around development shall be able to control all its +dependent functions, which can be successfully carried on only on +condition that they agree, and collaborate toward common life. And this +is what I call philosophy. + +Or we may call it humanity, if the word philosophy suggests strangeness +and difficulty of attainment. For our demand for an educational reform, +in accordance with our renewed consciousness, is prompted by the old +but never ancient desire which put the lantern in the hand of the Greek +philosopher. Education is truly human when it has for its contents that +ideal which I have briefly touched upon in this chapter, the ideal of +the spirit, philosophy. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [5] Referring to the old phrase, _purus mathematicus, purus asinus_. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +CONCLUSION + + +We may look upon the preceding chapters as a kind of general examination +to which we submitted our consciences, by reflecting on the way we have +always performed our duty as teachers, by considering our purposes, and +by scrutinising the internal logic of our task. And our investigation +has been eminently human, since indeed man's essence, we have now come +to understand, is to acquire self-consciousness. + +The patriotic character of the event which was the immediate cause of +this work induced me to show that the common spirit which brought us +together was not a mere political sentiment, of which we should rid +ourselves in crossing the threshold of the school. For we could not but +bring into the classroom our own humanity and our living personality, in +which the content of our teaching and of all education must live. This +personality, however it may be considered, from whatever point of view +it may be regarded, has no particular substance which is not also at the +same time universal,--domestic as the case may be, or social, political, +or whatever may be the phase in which it is determined in its historical +development. And since, in this historical development of our universal +personality, there is Italy with her memories perpetuated by our +immanent sentiment, by our immanent consciousness and by our immanent +will, we could not possibly be ourselves were we not at the same time +Italian educators. + +And looking attentively at this universal foundation on which our own +human value is supported--call it language, logic, law,--we were led to +study the relationship existing between individuality, which is the aim +of all forms of education, and this universal spirit which here +intervenes as it does in every moment of the human life. It intervenes +in education, as the science and the conscience and the entire +personality of the teacher. This personality seems to be violently +imposed upon the pupil in such a way as to check or hinder his +spontaneous development; but we saw that the immediate logical +opposition between teacher and learner gradually resolves itself into +the unity of the spiritual process in which education becomes actual. + +Education therefore appeared to us, not as a fact which is empirically +observable, and which may be fixed and looked upon as subject to natural +laws, but rather as a mystical formation of a super-individual +spirituality, which is the only real, concrete personality actualised by +the individual. In order to understand it, we had to liberate it from +every kind of contact with culture in its materialistic acceptance; and +we therefore insisted on the speculative inquiry into what we called the +realistic point of view. We endeavoured to explain how and why culture +is the very process of education, and the very process of the +personality in which education takes place. This conception would have +lacked the necessary support, had we not carried our investigation +further, and shown that this culture in which the spirit unfolds itself +is not the attribute of a mind existing amidst other minds and face to +face with surrounding nature, but is instead the most genuine +signification of All. For it is the life of the spirit in which +everything gathers to find its support and become thinkable. Man, as he +is educated, is man rigorously considered as spirit,--spirit which is +free, because infinite and truly universal in every one of its moments +and attitudes. This the educator must intently consider if he wants to +conceive adequately his task and its enormous responsibilities, which +become evident when he reflects how in the monad of the individual, in +the simple soul of the child entrusted to his creative care, the +infinite vibrates, and a life is born at every instant, which thence +throbs over the boundless expanse of space, of time, and of all +reality. + +This adequate conception need not be elaborated into a complete system +of philosophy. The educator must sense and grasp this infinite over +which every word of his is carried, every glance of his, every gesture. +As he enters the classroom, as he approaches the child, to whom not only +_magna reverentia_ is due, but the very cult which is shown to things +divine, he cannot but feel himself exalted; he cannot but be fully +conscious of the difficulties of his lofty station, and of the duty of +overcoming them. He must therefore dismiss from within himself all that +is petty in his particular personality, all his preoccupations and +passions, all his commonplace everyday thoughts. He must shake off the +depressing burden of the flesh, which pulls him downward; and he will +then open his soul to fortifying Faith, to the ruling and inspiring +Deity. The man who is not capable of feeling in the School the sanctity +of the place and of his work is not fit to be an educator. + +The spirituality of education becomes however an empty formula, and a +motif for rhetorical variations, if on the one hand we do not possess +the concept of the essence or of the attributes of the spirit, and if on +the other we do not sharply expose those realistic prejudices of +pedagogy which have been maintained in the field of education by the +materialistic conception of man and by a tradition which is both +unreflecting and alien to all radical criticism. I tried to satisfy both +these exigencies rather by arousing the reflection and impelling it on +its way than by escorting it on a journey which must be undertaken with +due preparation. + +And finally, in the effort to provide ourselves with a motto, so to +speak, and a rallying banner, I set forth the doctrine of educational +unity--of the education which is always at all moments education of the +spirit. For even physical culture is conceivable only as formation of +the mind, and more properly of character. Education, we saw, may be made +actual in a thousand different ways, only always on condition that we +observe the law which proceeds from its innermost essence and +constitutes its immanent ideal. Every education is good, provided it is +education--philosophical, human, mind-stirring education; provided it +does not bring atrophy to any necessary function of the spirit, does not +crush the spirit under the weight either of things or of the divinity, +nor excessively exalt it in the consciousness of its own personal power; +provided it neither hurls it into the free abstract world of dreams nor +fetters it in the iron chains of an inhuman reality; and provided it +does not shatter it and scatter its fragments by the multiple +investigations of things innumerable, the knowledge of which can never +bring satisfaction. For it is the function of education to enable the +centralising unity of the reflective spirit to become articulate and +varied through the multiplicity of life and of experience, which is the +actuality of the spirit itself. Opposition to all abstractions, in +behalf of the concrete spirit and of liberty--that is our educational +ideal. + + + + +THE EUROPEAN LIBRARY + +Edited by J. E. SPINGARN + +This series is intended to keep Americans in touch with the intellectual +and spiritual ferment of the continent of Europe to-day, by means of +translations that partake in some measure of the vigor and charm of the +originals. No attempt will be made to give what Americans miscall "the +best books," if by this is meant conformity to some high and illusory +standard of past greatness; any twentieth-century book which displays +creative power or a new outlook or more than ordinary interest will be +eligible for inclusion. Nor will the attempt be made to select books +that merely confirm American standards of taste or morals, since the +series is intended to serve as a mirror of European culture and not as a +glass through which it may be seen darkly. All forms of literature will +be represented, including fiction, belles lettres, poetry, philosophy, +social and economic discussion, history, biography, etc.; and special +attention will be paid to authors whose works have not hitherto been +accessible in English. + + "The first organized effort to bring into English a series of the + really significant figures in contemporary European literature.... + An undertaking as creditable and as ambitious as any of its kind on + the other side of the Atlantic."--_New York Evening Post._ + + +THE WORLD'S ILLUSION. By JACOB WASSERMANN. Translated by Ludwig +Lewisohn. Two volumes. + + One of the most remarkable creative works of our time, revolving + about the experiences of a man who sums up the wealth and culture of + our age yet finds them wanting. + +PEOPLE. By PIERRE HAMP. Translated by James Whitall. With Introduction +by Elizabeth Shepley Sergeant. + + Introducing one of the most significant writers of France, himself a + working man, in whom is incarnated the new self-consciousness of the + worker's world. + +DECADENCE, AND OTHER ESSAYS ON THE CULTURE OF IDEAS. By REMY DE +GOURMONT. Translated by William Aspenwall Bradley. + + The critical work of one of the great aesthetic thinkers of France, + for the first time made accessible in an authorized English + version. + +HISTORY: ITS THEORY AND PRACTICE. By BENEDETTO CROCE. Translated by +Douglas Ainslie. + + A new interpretation of the meaning of history, and a survey of the + great historians, by one of the leaders of European thought. + +THE NEW SOCIETY. By WALTER RATHENAU. Translated by Arthur Windham. + + One of Germany's most influential thinkers and men of action + presents his vision of the new society emerging out of the War. + +THE PATRIOTEER. By HEINRICH MANN. Translated by Ernest Boyd. + + A German "Main Street," describing the career of a typical product + of militarism, in school, university, business, and love. + +MODERN RUSSIAN POETRY: AN ANTHOLOGY. Translated by Babette Deutsch and +A. Yarmolinsky. + + Covers the whole field of Russian verse since Pushkin, with the + emphasis on contemporary poets. + +THE REFORM OF EDUCATION. By GIOVANNI GENTILE. With an Introduction by +Benedetto Croce. Translated by Dino Bigongiari. + + A new interpretation of the meaning of education, by one who shares + with Croce the leadership of Italian thought to-day. + +CHRIST. By GIOVANNI PAPINI. Translated by Dorothy Canfield Fisher. _In +preparation._ + + The first biography of Christ by a great man of letters since + Renan's. + +RUBE. By G. A. BORGESE. Translated by Isaac Goldberg. _In preparation._ + + An Italian novel of unusual insight, centering on the spiritual + collapse since the War. + +THE REIGN OF THE EVIL SPIRIT. By C. P. RAMUZ. Translated by James +Whitall. _In preparation._ + + A charming and fantastic tale, introducing an interesting + French-Swiss novelist. + + HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY + Publishers New York + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Reform of Education, by Giovanni Gentile + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REFORM OF EDUCATION *** + +***** This file should be named 36762.txt or 36762.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/6/36762/ + +Produced by Katherine Ward, Jonathan Ingram, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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