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diff --git a/44905-0.txt b/44905-0.txt index f5b6ba6..6126eed 100644 --- a/44905-0.txt +++ b/44905-0.txt @@ -1,40 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Outlines of Educational Doctrine, by -John Frederick Herbart - -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: Outlines of Educational Doctrine - -Author: John Frederick Herbart - -Annotator: Charles De Garmo - -Translator: Alexis F. Lange - -Release Date: February 14, 2014 [EBook #44905] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE *** - - - - -Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Marie Bartolo and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44905 *** [Transcriber’s Notes: @@ -9378,362 +9342,4 @@ An Outline of Philosophy End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Outlines of Educational Doctrine, by John Frederick Herbart -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE *** - -***** This file should be named 44905-0.txt or 44905-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/9/0/44905/ - -Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Marie Bartolo and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian 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: Outlines of Educational Doctrine - -Author: John Frederick Herbart - -Annotator: Charles De Garmo - -Translator: Alexis F. Lange - -Release Date: February 14, 2014 [EBook #44905] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE *** - - - - -Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Marie Bartolo and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - -[Transcriber's Notes: - -This e-text contains a translation of Herbart's "Umriss pädagogischer -Vorlesungen", the main text of which is divided into numbered -paragraphs. The numbers in the Index are references to these -paragraphs. De Garmo's annotations are indented in this e-text by two -spaces. Herbart's own annotations have the run-in heading "Note" and -are indented by four spaces. - -Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and small-capped text by =equal -signs=. The square root symbol is denoted by sqrt.] - - - - - OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE - - - [Illustration: Publisher's logo] - - - - - OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE - - - BY - - JOHN FREDERICK HERBART - - - _TRANSLATED BY_ - - ALEXIS F. LANGE, =Ph.D.= - =Associate Professor of English and Scandinavian Philology, and - Dean of the Faculty of the College of Letters, - University of California= - - - _ANNOTATED BY_ - - CHARLES DE GARMO, =Ph.D.= - =Professor of the Science and Art of Education, - Cornell University= - - - New York - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., =Ltd.= - 1904 - - _All rights reserved_ - - - =Copyright=, 1901, - =By= THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. - - Set up and electrotyped. Published February, 1901. Reprinted - June, 1904. - - - Norwood Press - J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. - Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - -PREFACE - - -The reasons for translating and annotating Herbart's "Outlines" are, -first, to present to the English-speaking public Herbart's latest, and -also his most complete, work on education; and, second, to note to some -extent at least the advances made in educational thought since Herbart -laid down his pen. - -Herbart's educational writings are distinguished by two marked -characteristics: 1, their helpfulness in actual teaching; and 2, their -systematic completeness. The thoughtful reader can see the bearing -of each part upon all the others; the purposes of education are so -completely correlated with the means, that, whether the topic under -discussion be apperception or interest or methods of teaching or school -government or moral training or the presentation of a particular study, -the reader is never at a loss to see the relation of this part to the -whole. - -The eminent practicability of Herbart's thought depends upon his -psychological point of view, which is always that of concrete -experience. The moment one tries to apply rational psychology to actual -teaching, one begins to rise into the clouds, to become vague or, -at least, general. The reason for this is that rational psychology -deals with unchangeable presuppositions of mind. We may conform our -work to these standards, but we cannot modify them, any more than we -can a law of nature. But when we have to deal with an apperceiving -content, we feel at home, for over this we have some control. We can -build up moral maxims, we can establish permanent interests, we can -reveal the unfolding of whole developments of thought and effort, we -can fix the time order of studies and parts of studies; in short, we -can apply our pedagogical insight with some degree of success to actual -school problems. Though empirical psychology has in the last fifty -years had as rapid a development as any other department of science, -it has never departed essentially from the direction fixed by Herbart. -New methods have indeed been applied, but the leading motive has -remained empirical; it has had small tendency to drift toward rational -psychology. This fact makes Herbart's educational thought, so far as -psychological bearing is concerned, seem as fresh and modern as when it -was first recorded. - -In one important respect, however, Herbart's system needs modernizing. -It is in relating education to conditions of society as it now exists. -German society has never been that of English-speaking countries; much -less does German society of the early part of the nineteenth century -correspond to Anglo-Saxon society at the beginning of the twentieth. -Indeed, even had there been correspondence before, there would be -divergence now. It is one of the main purposes of the annotation, -therefore, to point out the social implications of various parts of the -"Outlines." - -The annotation has made no attempt to improve Herbart's prophetic -vision concerning many important matters, or to elucidate self-evident -propositions, or to supplement observations already complete, true, and -apt. - -Especial attention is called to the exactness and illuminating -character of Herbart's diagnosis of mental weaknesses and disorders -in children, together with his suggestions as to proper treatment. -Students of child-study, moreover, will find in this work not only -encouragement in their work, but also assistance in determining what is -worth studying in the child. The reader is constantly reminded of the -fact that, when written by a master, no book is newer than an old one. - - =Cornell University=, - January, 1901. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - =Introduction= 1 - - - PART I - _THE DOUBLE BASIS OF PEDAGOGICS_ - - CHAPTER - I. The Ethical Basis 7 - II. The Psychological Basis 15 - - - PART II - _OUTLINES OF GENERAL PEDAGOGICS_ - - SECTION I. GOVERNMENT OF CHILDREN - I. Theoretical Aspects 30 - II. Practical Aspects 33 - - SECTION II. INSTRUCTION - I. The Relation of Instruction to Government and Training 39 - II. The Aim of Instruction 44 - III. The Conditions of Many-sidedness 51 - IV. The Conditions Determining Interest 60 - V. The Main Kinds of Interest 76 - VI. The Material of Instruction from Different Points of View 93 - VII. The Process of Instruction 105 - VIII. Remarks on the Plan of Instruction as a Whole 134 - - SECTION III. TRAINING - I. The Relation of Training to Government and to Instruction 140 - II. The Aim of Training 143 - III. Differentiation of Character 146 - IV. Differentiation of Morality 151 - V. Helps in Training 154 - VI. General Method of Training 160 - - SECTION IV. SYNOPSIS OF GENERAL PEDAGOGICS FROM THE POINT - OF VIEW OF AGE - I. The First Three Years 198 - II. The Ages from Four to Eight 201 - III. Boyhood 209 - IV. Youth 216 - - - PART III - _SPECIAL APPLICATIONS OF PEDAGOGICS_ - - SECTION I. REMARKS ON THE TEACHINGS OF PARTICULAR BRANCHES - OF STUDY - I. Religion 219 - II. History 223 - III. Mathematics and Nature Study 241 - IV. Geography 263 - V. The Mother-tongue 269 - VI. Greek and Latin 275 - VII. Further Specification of Didactics 289 - - SECTION II. THE FAULTS OF PUPILS AND THEIR TREATMENT - I. General Differentiation 292 - II. The Sources of Moral Weakness 301 - III. The Effects of Training 308 - IV. Special Faults 312 - - SECTION III. REMARKS ON THE ORGANIZATION OF EDUCATION - I. Home Education 317 - II. Concerning Schools 321 - - - - -OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - -1. The plasticity, or educability, of the pupil is the fundamental -postulate of pedagogics. - -The concept plasticity, or capacity for being moulded, extends far -beyond the confines of pedagogics. It takes in even the primary -components of matter. It has been traced as far as the elementary -substances entering into the chemical changes of organic bodies. Signs -of plasticity of will are found in the souls of the higher animals. -Only man, however, exhibits plasticity of will in the direction of -moral conduct. - - Had not the youthful mind the capacity to receive culture, education - would be impossible. This educability of the young has rarely if - ever been questioned in actual practice. Much philosophical strife, - however, has raged about the various conceptions of =WILL=, and - the consequent possibility of teaching virtue, or of training - the moral character. The extremes have been _fatalism_, or the - determination of conduct by means of forces lying entirely outside - the power of the individual; and _absolute caprice of will_, or the - determination of conduct entirely by the individual himself without - regard to outside influences. The doctrine of fatalism makes moral - education mechanical; that of volitional caprice makes it futile. - Educational theory must therefore assume a middle ground, in which - the self-activity of the individual and the moulding influence of - education are both recognized. - -2. Pedagogics as a science is based on ethics and psychology. The -former points out the goal of education; the latter the way, the means, -and the obstacles. - -This relationship involves the dependence of pedagogics on experience, -inasmuch as ethics includes application to experience, while psychology -has its starting-point, not in metaphysics alone, but in experience -correctly interpreted by metaphysics. But an exclusively empirical -knowledge of man will not suffice for pedagogics. It is the less -adequate in any age the greater the instability of morals, customs, and -opinions; for, as the new gains on the old, generalizations from former -observations cease to hold true. - - In order to accept the statement that ethics points out the goal of - education, we must conceive of ethics in a broad way. At some periods - in the history of the world, the development of purely individual, or - subjective, character would have been thought a worthy and adequate - conception of the final purpose of education. Other-worldliness was - the ruling ideal. At present, however, we regard that man as most - fit for the world to come who best performs all his functions in the - world that now is. Ethics must therefore be conceived to embrace an - estimation of the value of a man's conduct in every department of - life. Not only must it estimate the worth of pious feeling, but it - must embrace a consideration of every action in its relation to the - actor's social, economic, and political environment. A man having - a praiseworthy character must be a good citizen of state, nation, - and community; he must be public-spirited, law-abiding, given to - honest dealing. Every child should be trained to be a useful member - of civilization as it now exists. Piety alone is insufficient; it - must be accompanied by honesty, industry, patriotism, public spirit. - Non-social, or purely individualistic, conceptions of character as - the goal of education must give way to those social ideals through - which alone the highest welfare of both individual and community - are to be conserved. Without such conceptions an industrial state, - such as now exists, becomes a human jungle in which men enter upon - a fiercer struggle than do the beasts of the real jungle. Social - coöperation is essential when we wish to transform a struggle of - mutual destruction into one of mutual helpfulness. - -3. Philosophical systems, involving either fatalism or its opposite, -pure caprice of will, are logically shut out from pedagogics, because -the notion of plasticity, implying as it does a transition from the -indeterminate to the determinate, cannot by such systems be brought in -without inconsistency. - - Common sense overcomes the logical difficulties of even the worst - systems. Herbart's remark has, therefore, no practical significance. - The philosophy of Spinoza might easily be described by an opponent - as "fatalistic," since it leaves no room for special providences in - the physical universe; yet Professor Paulsen, who holds substantially - to Spinoza's view, is one of the most eminent promoters of the - theory of education in the university of Berlin. Herbart thought - Kant's doctrine of transcendental will one of absolute volitional - caprice, yet the followers of Kant have been among the most energetic - promoters of mental and moral training. Herbart thinks he sees in - this remark a chance to put his philosophical opponents out of court, - to the benefit of his own system. If one philosopher develops a - system of "fatalism" and another one of "absolute free will," the one - may be charged with making education impossible and the other with - making it futile. In either case, since we know that education is - neither impossible nor futile, the presumption is that both systems - are defective. This paragraph and others like it are mere indirect - methods of defending Herbart's system of philosophy: they have no - real significance for the theory of education itself. - -4. On the other hand, the assumption of unlimited plasticity is -equally inadmissible; it is for psychology to guard against this -error. The educability of the child is, to begin with, limited by his -individuality. Then, too, the possibility of determining and moulding -him at will through education is lessened by time and circumstances. -Lastly, the established character of the adult develops by an inner -process which in time passes beyond the reach of the educator. - -5. Education seems thus to find a barrier, first, in the order of -nature, and later in the pupil's own will. The difficulty is indeed -a real one, if the limitations of education are overlooked: hence -an apparent confirmation of fatalism as well as of the doctrine of -absolute free will. - - Modern scientific evolutionary study of anthropology and history - tends to confirm the hasty thinker in the idea that the circumstances - of the environment completely determine the character and destiny - of men, since their debt to the moulding influences of society and - physical surroundings becomes more and more apparent; yet however - powerful the environment may prove to be in fixing the direction of - mental growth in the race, it cannot rightly be conceived as creating - the growing forces. All the sunshine and warmth in the world will - not cause a pebble to sprout; so no external influences whatever - can develop mind where there is none to develop. The exigencies - of Herbart's metaphysics drove him into a crusade against Kant's - doctrine of innate freedom, or transcendental will; all the freedom - that Herbart would admit was that psychological freedom which is - acquired through instruction and training. The quarrel belongs to - eighteenth-century metaphysics, not to modern psychology, nor to - education; for however potentially free an infant may be, nobody - thinks of making it responsible, except so far as growing experience - gives it insight and volitional strength. - - =Note.=--Many thinkers fluctuate constantly between these two - erroneous extremes. When looking historically at mankind as - a whole, they arrive at fatalism, as does Gumplowicz in his - "Outlines of Sociology." Teacher and pupil alike seem to them to - be in the current of a mighty stream, not swimming,--that is, - self-active,--which would be the correct view, but carried along - without wills of their own. They arrive, on the other hand, at the - idea of a perfectly free will, when they contemplate the individual - and see him resist external influences, the aims of the teacher - very often included. Here they fail to comprehend the nature of - will, and sacrifice the concept of natural law for that of will. - Young teachers can hardly avoid sharing this uncertainty, favored - as it is by the philosophies of the day; much is gained, however, - when they are able to observe fluctuations of their own views - without falling into either extreme. - -6. The power of education must be neither over- nor under-estimated. -The educator should, indeed, try to see how much may be done; but -he must always expect that the outcome will warn him to confine his -attempts within reasonable bounds. In order not to neglect anything -essential, he needs to keep in view the practical bearings of the -whole theory of ideas; in order to understand and interpret correctly -the data furnished by observation of the child, the teacher must make -constant use of psychology. - -7. In scientific study concepts are separated which in practice must -always be kept united. The work of education is continuous. With an -eye to every consideration at once, the educator must always endeavor -to connect what is to come with what has gone before. Hence a mode of -treatment which, following the several periods of school life, simply -enumerates the things to be done in sequence, is inadequate in a work -on pedagogics. In an appendix this method will serve to facilitate -a bird's-eye view; the discussion of general principles, arranged -according to fundamental ideas, must needs precede. But our very first -task will necessarily consist in dealing, at least briefly, with the -ethical and the psychological basis of pedagogics. - - - - -PART I - -_THE DOUBLE BASIS OF PEDAGOGICS_ - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=The Ethical Basis= - - -8. The term _virtue_ expresses the whole purpose of education. Virtue -is the idea of inner freedom which has developed into an abiding -actuality in an individual. Whence, as inner freedom is a relation -between insight and volition, a double task is at once set before the -teacher. It becomes his business to make actual each of these factors -separately, in order that later a permanent relationship may result. - - Insight is conceived as the perception of what is right or wrong. - This perception is founded on the spontaneous, or intuitive, feeling - that arises in the mind when certain elementary will-relations are - presented to the intelligence. The unperverted mind has a natural - antipathy to strife, malevolence, injustice, selfishness; it has a - corresponding approval of harmony, good-will, justice, benevolence. - These feelings arise, naturally, only when the appropriate ideas are - present. Insight, therefore, is a state of feeling or disposition - arising from knowledge, or ideas. - - When volition has come into permanent accord with educated insight, - virtue has been attained. Conscience approves every virtuous - act; it disapproves every deviation from virtue. Inner freedom, - therefore, is marked by approving conscience; lack of it, by accusing - conscience. The development of virtuous character is not so easy, - however, as might appear from these simple statements, for virtue - has a shifting, not to say a developing character. Elementary as the - fundamental ethical ideas may be when presented in the home or in - the kindergarten, they are not elementary when met with in modern - civilization. At times virtue has been of a military character, as - in Sparta and Rome; at other times it has been ecclesiastical, as in - the Middle Ages. At the present time, in addition to all that it has - ever been from a purely Christian character, it is civil, social, - industrial. Virtue in a modern city has a content quite different - from that in a pioneer mining camp. Furthermore, virtue is uneven in - its development. The race has, for instance, been trained long and - hard to respect unprotected property, so that we may fairly say such - respect has become instinctive; yet when unprotected property comes - into new relations to the individual, as in the case of borrowed - books, we may find only a rudimentary conscience. What scholar is not - a sufferer from this form of unripe virtue? - -9. But even here at the outset we need to bear in mind the identity of -morality with the effort put forth to realize the permanent actuality -of the harmony between insight and volition. To induce the pupil to -make this effort is a difficult achievement; at all events, it becomes -possible only when the twofold training mentioned above is well -under way. It is easy enough, by a study of the example of others, -to cultivate theoretical acumen; the moral application to the pupil -himself, however, can be made, with hope of success, only in so far as -his inclinations and habits have taken a direction in keeping with his -insight. If such is not the case, there is danger lest the pupil, after -all, knowingly subordinate his correct theoretical judgment to mere -prudence. It is thus that evil in the strict sense originates. - - It is helpful to give the pupil abundant opportunity to pass judgment - upon the moral quality of actions not his own. The best opportunities - are at first the most impersonal ones, for where the child himself is - immediately concerned, the quality of his judgment may be impaired - by intense personal feelings, such as fear of blame or punishment. - Literature furnishes the earliest and most copious examples; later, - history may be helpful, though there is great danger of taking - partial or mistaken views as to the moral quality of historical - deeds. A selection of literature is an artistic whole. All the - relations can be easily perceived, but any given historical event is - likely to be a small section of a whole too vast for the youthful - mind to comprehend. It is for this reason that caution is needed when - passing judgment upon historical facts. - - To encourage the child to pass judgment in these impersonal cases - is to sharpen his natural perceptions of right and wrong, and - to influence his disposition favorably. One who has been led - to condemn cruelty to animals in this way is likely to be more - thoughtful himself, and less disposed wantonly to inflict pain. But - every resource of authority and persuasion, as well as appeal to - sensibility and conscience, must be employed to make virtuous action - habitual, and to prevent the generation of evil. - -10. Of the remaining practical or ethical concepts, the idea of -perfection points to health of body and mind; it implies a high regard -for both, and their systematic cultivation. - - Perfection here means _completeness of efficiency_, rather than - acquisition of holiness. An efficient will is strong, vigorous, - decided; it is self-consistent in the pursuit of leading purposes, - not vacillating or incoherent. Still, the idea of moral perfection is - not a remote one, for, in order to be thoroughly efficient, a will - must be in substantial accord with the ethical order of a rational - society. All its deviations from established law and custom will be - for their improvement, not for the destruction of what is good in - them. - -11. The idea of good-will counsels the educator to ward off temptation -to ill-will as long as such temptation might prove dangerous. It is -essential, on the other hand, to imbue the pupil with a feeling of -respect for good-will. - - Good-will is one of the three concrete virtues lying at the basis of - social order. It is both _passive_, as in _laissez faire_ attitudes - of mind, and _active_ as in thoroughgoing civic, business, and social - coöperation. School training must seek to impress the mind with - respect for the active rather than the passive type of good-will. - So, too, must it ward off the dangers both of passive and active - ill-will, as manifested, in covetousness, malice, malevolence, envy, - treachery, stinginess, cruelty, hard-heartedness. How these ends may - be attained, will be considered later. - -12. The idea of justice demands that the pupil abstain from -contention. It demands, furthermore, reflection on strife, so that -respect for justice may strike deep root. - - No idea appeals more strongly to the unperverted youthful mind than - that of justice or fair play; even the gentlest natures become - indignant at manifestations of injustice. The basis of the idea is, - in the thought of our author, our natural displeasure in contention - over that which, in the nature of the case, only one person can - have. Primarily, it concerns property rights, but secondarily it may - extend to other relations in which two or more wills are at issue. - Justice in the acquisition, possession, and disposition of wealth is - the theme of the greater part of every judicial system. The idea of - justice is the second of the three concrete moral virtues necessary - for civilized society. - -13. The idea of equity is especially involved in cases where the pupil -has merited punishment as requital for the intentional infliction of -pain. Here the degree of punishment must be carefully ascertained and -acknowledged as just. - - =Note.=--This kind of punishment should not be confounded with - educative punishment--so called, _i.e._, punishment through natural - consequences. - - The third concrete moral idea is that of _equity_, or _requital_. It - arises when existing will-relations are altered either for good or - bad. The natural demand is that the requital shall be adequate to the - deed. Lack of requital for good deeds we call ingratitude, one of the - most hateful of human failings. In savagery and barbarism private - vengeance is the normal method of requiting injuries. Remnants of - this system still exist in the duel, and in the fierce vendettas of - some sparsely settled regions. Civilization demands that requital - for evil deeds shall be remanded to the executors of established - law. Only in this way is society saved from destructive broils. In - this respect, as in so many others, the school is the miniature of - the institutional world. The teacher is, to a considerable extent, - lawgiver, judge, and executive. Not a small part of his moral - influence upon his pupils depends upon the justice of his requitals - for violated law. Good-will, justice or rights, and requital are the - three fundamental concrete moral ideas upon which sound character, - both individual and national, is based. The remaining two are that - of inner freedom and that of efficiency. Though formal in character, - _i.e._, devoid of positive content, they are equally important with - the more concrete conceptions. - -14. Where a number of pupils are assembled there arises, naturally, -on a small scale, a system of laws and rewards. This system, and the -demands which in the world at large spring from the same ideas, must be -brought into accord. - - The school is a miniature world, to be regulated by the same system - of moral ideas as that which obtains in society. Compare 182, 310. - -15. The concept of an administrative system has great significance for -pedagogics, since every pupil, whatever his rank or social status, -must be trained for coöperation in the social whole to fit him for -usefulness. This requirement may assume very many different forms. - -16. Of the system of civilization only the aspect of general culture, -not that of special training, must be emphasized at this point. - - =Note.=--The principles of practical philosophy which have just - been briefly indicated are at the same time the starting-points of - ethical insight for the pupils. If the resolve to direct the will - accordingly be added, and if the pupil obeys this resolve, such - obedience constitutes morality. Quite distinct from this is the - obedience yielded, be the motive fear or affection, to the person - of the teacher, so long as that higher obedience is not securely - established. - -17. For the business of education, the idea of perfection, while it -does not rise into excessive prominence, stands out above all others -on account of its uninterrupted application. The teacher discovers in -the as yet undeveloped human being a force which requires his incessant -attention to intensify, to direct, and to concentrate. - - =Note.=--The maxim _perfice te_ is neither so universal as Wolff - asserted, as though it were the sole fundamental principle - of ethics, nor so objectionable as Kant represents it to be. - Perfection, quantitatively regarded (_Vollkommenheit_--the state of - having _come_ to _fulness_), is the first urgent task wherever man - shows himself lower, smaller, weaker, more narrowly limited, than - he might be. Growth, in every sense of the word, is the natural - destiny of the child, and the primary condition of whatever else of - worth may be expected of him in later life. The principle _perfice - te_ was deprived of its true meaning by the attempt to define by - it the whole of virtue--a blunder, since no single practical idea - ever exhausts the contents of that term. Quite different is the - import of the next remark, which applies solely to the practice of - pedagogy. - -18. The constant presence of the idea of perfection easily introduces -a false feature into moral education in the strict sense. The pupil -may get an erroneous impression as to the relative importance of the -lessons, practice, and performance demanded of him, and so be betrayed -into the belief that he is essentially perfect when these demands are -satisfied. - -19. For this reason alone, if others were wanting, it is necessary to -combine moral education proper, which in everyday life lays stress -continually on correct self-determination, with religious training. -The notion that something really worthy has been achieved needs to be -tempered by humility. Conversely, religious education has need of the -moral also to forestall cant and hypocrisy, which are only too apt to -appear where morality has not already secured a firm foothold through -earnest self-questioning and self-criticism with a view to improvement. -Finally, inasmuch as moral training must be put off until after insight -and right habits have been acquired, religious education, too, should -not be begun too early; nor should it be needlessly delayed. - - It is well known what obstacles confront the American teacher who - desires to give a religious basis to moral character. For a full - discussion of the subject viewed from numerous standpoints, the - reader is referred to "Principles of Religious Education," Longmans, - Green & Co., New York, 1900. This book is a series of lectures by - prominent school men and others. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Psychological Basis= - - -20. It is an error, indeed, to look upon the human soul as an aggregate -of all sorts of faculties; but this error only becomes worse when, as -is usually done, the statement is added that faculties are after all -at bottom one and the same active principle. The traditional terms -should rather be employed to distinguish mental phenomena that present -themselves to experience as successively predominant. In this way we -get the leading features of soul-life, which reminds us sufficiently of -psychology for our immediate purpose. - -21. The stage of predominant sense-activity is followed by that of -memory in the sense of exact reproduction of series of percepts -previously formed. Traces of higher activities are as yet absent. The -only thing to be noted is that the series, unless rendered long by -frequent repetition, are generally short; necessarily so, since while -forming they are exposed to continual disturbances caused by great -sensitiveness to new impressions. - -22. Even very young children betray at play and in speech that form of -self-activity ascribed to imagination. - -The most insignificant toys, provided they are movable, occasion -changes and combinations of percepts, attended even with strong -emotion, that astonish the mature observer, and perhaps excite anxiety -lest some of these motley fancies should become fixed ideas. No evil -after effects are to be feared, however, so long as the emotional -excitement does not threaten health, and passes over quickly. A strong -play impulse is, on the contrary, a promising sign, especially when it -manifests itself energetically, though late, in weak children. - -23. Soon there follows a time when the observation of external objects -prompts the child to ask innumerable questions. Here that activity -which is called power of judgment begins to stir in conjunction -with reasoning. The child now strives to subsume what is new under -conceptions already in his mind, and to affix their symbols, the -familiar words. He is still far, withal, from being able to follow an -abstract train of thought, to employ periodic sentences, and to conduct -himself rationally throughout. The slightest occasions will prove him -a child still. - -24. In the meantime, the child manifests, besides the physical feelings -of pleasure and pain, affection for one person and aversion to another; -furthermore, a seemingly strong will, together with a violent spirit -of contradiction, unless this is suppressed in time. - -25. On the other hand, the ethical judgment as a rule shows itself at -first very seldom and transiently--a foreshadowing of the difficulty -of securing for it later, in spite of obstinacy and selfishness, the -function of control, on which control depend both morality and the -higher sense of art. - -26. The boy asks fewer questions, but tries all the more to handle -and shape things. He is gaining knowledge by himself and acquiring -dexterity. Gradually his respect for his elders increases; he fears -their censure and stands in awe of their superiority. At the same time -he attaches himself more closely to other boys of the same age. From -now on it becomes more difficult to observe him. The teacher who has no -previous knowledge of boys who have reached this age, may long deceive -himself in regard to them and will seldom obtain complete frankness. - -This reserve is indicative of more or less self-determination, which is -commonly attributed to pure reason. - -27. The names for the mental faculties acquire renewed importance with -the beginning of systematic instruction. Their import, however, shows a -marked difference. Now memory is relied on for the acquisition, without -additions or omissions, of prescribed series, the order being fixed -or not, as the case may be; usually there is a slight connection with -older ideas. Imagination is called for to lay hold of the objects -of distant lands and ages. The understanding is expected to derive -general notions from a limited number of particulars, to name and to -connect them. The development of the ethical judgment teachers rarely -wait for; obedience to commands is demanded. Obedience of this kind -depends chiefly on the ease with which antecedent ideas are revived and -connected in response to, but not beyond, a given stimulus. In extreme -cases the fear of punishment effectively takes the place of all other -motives. But often not even the usual memory-work can be successfully -exacted through fear, much less obedience without oversight. - -28. Many pupils reveal a curious contrast. In their own sphere they -display a good memory, a lively imagination, keen understanding; by the -teacher they are credited with little of all these. They rule perhaps -over their playmates because of their superior intelligence, or possess -at least the respect of the latter, while in their classes they show -only incapacity. Such experiences suggest the difficulty of making -instruction take proper hold of the inner growth of the pupil. It is -evident, at the same time, that what is customarily ascribed to the -action of the various mental faculties takes place in certain groups of -ideas. - -29. The grown man has one group of ideas for his church, another for -his work at home, a third for society, and so on. These groups, though -partially interacting and mutually determinant, are far from being -connected at every point. This is true as early as boyhood. The boy -has one set of ideas for his school, another for the family circle, -still another for the playground, etc. This fact explains better than -intentional reserve the observation that a boy is one being at home or -at school and quite another among strangers. - -30. Each body of ideas is made up of complications of ideas, which, if -the union is perfect, come and go in consciousness as undivided wholes, -and of series, together with their interlacings, whose members unfold -successively, one by one, provided they are not checked. The closer the -union of parts within these complications and series, the more absolute -the laws according to which ideas act in consciousness, the stronger -is the resistance against everything opposing their movement; hence -the difficulty of acting upon them through instruction. They admit, -however, of additions and recombinations, and so may in the course of -time undergo essential changes; up to a certain point they even change -of themselves if repeatedly called into consciousness by dissimilar -occasions, _e.g._, by the frequent delivery of the same lecture before -different audiences. - -The general notions of things are complexes or complications of their -attributes. Other examples of complexes important to instruction are -furnished by logical concepts and words. But since words of several -languages may be perfectly complicated or bound together with the -same concept, without being just as intimately connected with one -another, it should be noted that when the object or concept comes up at -different times, it will be joined now with this and next with another -language. Yet the repeated perception of the object is not quite the -same perception as before, although earlier ideas mostly coalesce so -fully with later homogeneous ideas that the difference makes itself -felt but little. - -31. The inner structure of groups of ideas becomes discernible in a -measure when thoughts are bodied forth in speech. Its most general -aspect is disclosed in the construction of a period. Conjunctions -particularly are important in that they, without denoting a content -of their own, serve as hints to the listener. They point out to him -the connection, the antitheses, the positiveness, or the uncertainty -of the speaker's utterances; for the meanings of conjunctions can be -traced back to the series-form, to negation and certitude. It should -be noted that want and refusal are related to negation; expectation, -together with hope and fear, to uncertainty, so that the consideration -of thought masses must also include emotional states. Children possess -the structure of thought just as they experience the emotional states, -long before they know how to embody the same in words with the help -of conjunctions. Certain conjunctions, such as, to be sure, although, -on the contrary, either--or, neither--nor, etc., are not adopted by -children until late. - -32. Of equal importance with the inner organization of the pupil's -ideas are, for the teacher, the degree of ease or difficulty with which -a given mass of ideas is called into consciousness, and its relatively -long or brief persistence in consciousness. Here we are face to face -with the conditions of efficient instruction and training. The most -necessary statements relative to this subject will be made under the -head of interest and character-building. - -33. The capacity for education, therefore, is determined not by the -relationship in which various originally distinct mental faculties -stand to one another, but by the relations of ideas already acquired to -one another, and to the physical organism. Every pupil must be studied -with reference to both. - - =Note.=--In the minds of those whose early training has been in - the hands of several persons, whose early life has, perhaps, even - been spent in different households or has been tossed about by - changes of fortune, there are usually formed thought masses that - are heterogeneous and poorly correlated. Nor is it easy to win the - single-hearted devotion of such boys. They cherish secret wishes, - they feel contrasts, the nature of which it is difficult to get at, - and soon strike out in directions which education can frequently - not encourage. Far more susceptible of educative influences are - pupils that have been, for a long time, under the guidance of only - one person,--of the mother especially,--who has had their full - confidence. It now remains to base their further training on what - already exists and to refrain from demanding sudden leaps. - -34. Now, in order to gain an adequate knowledge of each pupil's -capacity for education, observation is necessary--observation both of -his thought masses and of his physical nature. The study of the latter -includes that of temperament, especially with reference to emotional -susceptibility. With some, fear is the first natural impulse, with -others, anger; some laugh and cry easily, others do not. In some cases -a very slight stimulus suffices to excite the vascular system. We need -to note furthermore:-- - -(1) The games of pupils. Do they in a thoroughly childlike manner still -play with any object that comes to hand? Do they intentionally change -their games to suit a varying preference? Can distinct objects of -persistent desire be discovered? - -(2) Their mental capacity and processes as shown in their studies. Is -the pupil able to grasp long or only short series? Does he make many or -few slips in the recitation? Do his lessons find a spontaneous echo in -his play? - -(3) Their depth and consistency. Are their utterances superficial, or -do they come from the depths of the soul? A comparative study of words -and actions will gradually answer this question. - -Such observations will take account also of the rhythm of the pupil's -mental life as well as of the character of his store of thoughts. The -insight thus obtained determines the matter and method of instruction. - - The reader will not fail to notice that much of modern child study - is anticipated in the foregoing paragraphs. Further important - contributions to the same subject are made in paragraphs 294-329. - -35. Instruction in the sense of mere information-giving contains no -guarantee whatever that it will materially counteract faults and -influence existing groups of ideas that are independent of the imparted -information. But it is these ideas that education must reach; for the -kind and extent of assistance that instruction may render to conduct -depend upon the hold it has upon them. - -Facts, at least, must serve as material for methodical treatment, -otherwise they do not enlarge even the scope of mental activity. They -rise in value when they become instinct with life and acquire mobility -so as to enrich the imagination. But their ethical effect always -remains questionable so long as they do not help to correct or modify -the ethical judgment, or desire and action, or both. - -This point calls for a few additional distinctions. Generally speaking, -rudeness decreases in proportion to the expansion of the mental horizon -by instruction. The mere diffusion of desires over the enlarged -thought area causes them to lose something of their one-sided energy. -Moreover, if instruction presents ethical subjects of some kind in -a comprehensible way, the pupil's disposition undergoes a refining -process so that it at least approximates a correct estimate of the -will, that is, the creation of ethical ideas. - -Such favorable results are, however, apt to be outweighed by the harm -done when mere knowledge becomes the chief aim of ambition. - -36. In order that instruction may act on the pupil's ideas and -disposition, every avenue of approach should be thrown open. The mere -fact that we can never know with certainty, beforehand, what will -influence the pupil most, warns us against one-sidedness of instruction. - -Ideas spring from two main sources,--experience and social intercourse. -Knowledge of nature--incomplete and crude--is derived from the former; -the later furnishes the sentiments entertained toward our fellow-men, -which, far from being praiseworthy, are on the contrary often very -reprehensible. To improve these is the more urgent task; but neither -ought we to neglect the knowledge of nature. If we do, we may expect -error, fantastical notions, and eccentricities of every description. - -37. Hence, we have two main branches of instruction,--the historical -and the scientific. The former embraces not only history proper, but -language study as well; the latter includes, besides natural science, -mathematics. - - "Historical" must be interpreted to include all human sciences, - such as history, literature, languages, æsthetics, and political, - economic, and social science. "Scientific" may include applied - as well as pure science, and then we add all forms of industrial - training to the curriculum. Other divisions of the subject-matter - of instruction are often helpful. Thus one may speak of the human - sciences, the natural sciences, and the economic sciences. The - economic sciences include those activities where man and nature - interact. Dr. Wm. T. Harris speaks of five coördinate groups of - subjects, corresponding to what he calls the "five windows of the - soul." - -38. Other reasons aside, the need alone of counteracting selfishness -renders it necessary for every school that undertakes the education of -the whole man to place human conditions and relations in the foreground -of instruction. This humanistic aim should underlie the studies of the -historical subjects, and only with reference to this aim may they be -allowed to preponderate. - - An interesting attempt to realize the aim here demanded is found in - Professor John Dewey's "School and Society,"[1] which is in effect a - description of what he is working out in his practice or experimental - school in connection with his department in the University of Chicago. - - "If the aim of historical instruction is to enable the child to - appreciate the values of social life, to see in imagination the - forces which favor and let men's effective coöperations with one - another, to understand the sorts of character that help on and that - hold back, the essential thing in its presentation is to make it - moving, dynamic. History must be presented not as an accumulation - of results or effects, a mere statement of what has happened, but - as a forceful, acting thing. The motives, that is, the motors, must - stand out. To study history is not to amass information, but to use - information in constructing a vivid picture of how and why men did - thus and so: achieved their successes and came to their failures."[2] - - =Note.=--This view does not shut out the other held in regard to - Gymnasia, namely, that their business is to preserve and perpetuate - a knowledge of classical antiquity; the latter aim must be made - congruent with the former. - -[1] Dewey, "The School and Society," University of Chicago Press, 1899. - -[2] Dewey, "The Aim of History in Elementary Education," Elementary -School Record, No. 8, University of Chicago Press, 1900. - -39. Mathematical studies, from elementary arithmetic to higher -mathematics, are to be linked to the pupil's knowledge of nature, -and so to his experience, in order to gain admission into his sphere -of thought. Instruction in mathematics, however thorough, fails -pedagogically when the ideas generated form an isolated group. They are -usually soon forgotten, or, if retained, contribute but little toward -personal worth. - - It may be added that the leading practical motive in the teaching of - arithmetic has been economic, the cost of things forming the chief - reliance for problems. Only those parts of nature study that involve - important quantitative relations are fitted for correlation with - mathematics. Biology, for instance, which is _qualitative_, since it - deals with life, is a poor support for mathematics; but physics is a - good one. - -40. In general, it will always remain a matter of uncertainty whether -and how instruction will be received and mentally elaborated. To -diminish this uncertainty, if for no other reasons, there is need of -constant endeavor to put the pupil in a frame of mind suitable for -instruction. This task falls within the province of training. - -41. But even apart from reference to instruction, training must seek -to ward off violent desires and to prevent the injurious outbursts of -emotion. We may grant that after the days of school life are over, -individual traits will always break forth again in this respect; but -experiences, too, follow, and in connection with these the after-effect -of education comes to light in proportion as education has been more -or less successful. It shows itself in the nature and the amount -of self-knowledge through which the adult strives to restrain his -native faults. Seeming exceptions are in most cases accounted for by -impressions produced in very early youth and long concealed. - -As soon as a person attains freedom of action, he usually endeavors -to achieve the life which in his earlier years seemed most desirable. -Hence training and instruction have each to be directed against the -springing up of illusive longings and toward a true picture of the -blessings and burdens of various social classes and professions. - -What modifications of individuality training may accomplish, is brought -about less by restrictions, which cannot be permanent, than by inducing -an early development of the higher impulses whereby they attain -predominance. - -42. The larger portion of the restrictions necessary during the -period of education falls under another head, that of government. The -question of completeness of education aside, children no less than -adults need to experience the constraint imposed on every one by human -society: they, too, must be kept within bounds. This function the -state delegates to the family, to guardians, and to the schools. Now -the purpose of government refers to present order; that of training to -the future character of the adult. The underlying points of view are -accordingly so different that a distinction must necessarily be made in -a system of pedagogics between training and government. - -43. In matters of government, too, much depends on how keenly its -disciplinary measures are felt. Only good training can insure the right -kind of sensibility. A gentle rebuke may prove more effective than -blows. The first thing to do, of course, when unruly children create -disorder, is to govern, to restore order; but government and training -should, if possible, go together. The distinction between these two -concepts serves to aid the reflection of the teacher, who ought to know -what he is about, rather than to suggest a perceptible separation in -practice. - -44. In the following pages, general pedagogics, which is followed -necessarily by observations of a more special nature, will be -discussed under the three main heads,--government, instruction, -training. What needs to be said concerning government as the primary -condition of education will be disposed of first. Next comes the theory -of instruction and didactics. The last place is reserved for training; -for an enduring effect could not be expected from it, if it were -severed from instruction. For this reason the teacher must always keep -the latter in view when he fixes his attention on methods of training, -which in actual practice always work hand in hand with instruction. The -other customary form of treatment, that according to age, while not -adapted to the exposition of principles, finds its proper place in the -chapter leading over to the discussion of special topics. - - - - -PART II - -_OUTLINES OF GENERAL PEDAGOGICS_ - - - - -SECTION I - -GOVERNMENT OF CHILDREN - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=Theoretical Aspects= - - -45. We assume at the outset the existence of all the care and nurture -requisite for physical growth and well-being; a bringing up that shall -be as free from pampering as from dangerous hardening. There must be -no actual want to lead a child astray, nor undue indulgence to create -unnecessary demands. How much hardening it is safe to risk will depend -in each case on the child's constitution. - -46. The foundation of government consists in keeping children employed. -No account is taken as yet of the prospective gain to mental culture; -the time is to be fully occupied, at all events, even if the immediate -purpose be merely the avoidance of disorder. This purpose, however, -involves the requirement of ample provision, according to the ages of -pupils, for the need of physical activity, that the cause of natural -restlessness may be removed. This need is more urgent with some -than with others; there are children that seem ungovernable because -compelled to sit still. - -47. Other things being equal, self-chosen occupations deserve the -preference; but it rarely happens that children know how to keep -themselves busy sufficiently and continuously. Specific tasks, not to -be abandoned until completed, assure order much better than random -playing, which is apt to end in ennui. It is desirable that adults -possessing the requisite patience assist children, if not always, at -least frequently, in their games; that they explain pictures, tell -stories, have them retold, etc. With advancing maturity, a steadily -increasing proportion of the occupations assumes the character of -instruction or of exercises growing out of it; this work should be -properly balanced by recreations. - -48. Next in order comes supervision, and with it numerous commands and -prohibitions. Under this head several things must be considered. - -In the first place this: Whether under certain circumstances one might -withdraw a command or permit what has once been forbidden. It is -ill-advised to give an order more sweeping than the execution is meant -to be; and it weakens government to yield to the entreaties, the tears, -or, worse still, the impetuous insistence of children. - -Also this question: Whether it is possible to make sure of obedience. -Where children are not kept busy and are left without oversight, the -issue becomes doubtful. - -The difficulty grows at a rapid rate with an increase in numbers. This -is true especially of larger educational institutions, but, on account -of the coming and going of pupils, applies in a measure also to common -day schools. - -49. The usual solution is greater strictness of supervision. But this -involves the risk of utter failure to receive voluntary obedience, and -of inciting a match game in shrewdness. - -As to voluntary obedience, much depends on the ratio of restraint to -the freedom that still remains. Ordinarily, youth submits readily -enough to many restrictions, provided such restrictions bear upon -specific fixed points, and leave elbow room for independent action. - -In the work of supervision the teacher will find it hard to rely on -himself entirely, particularly if he has charge of classes only at -stated times. Others must assist him; he himself will have to resort -occasionally to surprises. Supervision is always an evil when coupled -with unnecessary distrust. It is essential, therefore, to make those -who do not merit distrust understand that the measures adopted are not -directed against them. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=Practical Aspects= - - -50. Since supervision is not to be vigorous to the point of ever felt -pressure, child government, to be effective, requires both gentle -and severe measures. In general, this effectiveness results from the -natural superiority of the adult, a fact of which teachers sometimes -need to be reminded. Whatever the plan of supervision, there must be -coupled with it an adequate mode of disciplinary procedure. A record -should be kept in schools, not for the law-abiding pupils, but for -those guilty of repeated acts of disobedience. These remarks do not -thus far include any reference to marks and records pertaining to -education proper; they are confined to what is popularly, but loosely, -called discipline, that is, the training of pupils to conform to the -system of order that obtains in the school. - -Home training seldom requires such bookkeeping; but even here it may -at times be useful. Of course, the individual child knows in any case -that some one is keeping an eye on his actions, but the fact becomes -more deeply impressed upon his memory if the reproofs incurred by him -are recorded. - -51. It would be in vain to attempt to banish entirely the corporal -punishments usually administered after fruitless reprimands; but use -should be made of them so sparingly that they be feared rather than -actually inflicted. - -Recollection of the rod does not hurt a boy. Nor is there any harm in -his present conviction that a flogging is henceforth as much beyond -the range of possibility as his meriting such treatment. But it would, -no doubt, be injurious to actually violate his self-respect by a blow, -however little he might mind the physical pain. And pernicious in the -highest degree, although, nevertheless, not quite obsolete yet, is the -practice of continuing to beat children already hardened to blows. -Brutish insensibility is the consequence, and the hope is almost vain -that even a long period of now unavoidable indulgence will restore a -normal state of feeling. - -There is less objection to making use, for a few hours, of hunger as -a corrective. Here only an act of deprivation takes place, not one -involving a direct insult. - -Curtailment of freedom is the most commonly employed form of -punishment; justly so, provided it be properly adjusted to the offence. -Moreover, it admits of the most varied gradations from standing in a -corner to confinement in a dark room, perhaps even with hands tied -together behind the back. Only, for several serious reasons, this -punishment must not be of long duration. A whole hour is more than -enough unless there is careful supervision. Besides, the place must be -chosen judiciously. - - Solitary confinement, especially in a dark room, is seldom if ever - resorted to in American public schools. For remarks upon the social - basis of modern school punishments, see 55. - -52. Corrections of such severity, as removal from home or expulsion -from an institution, are to be administered only in extreme cases; for -what is to become of the expelled pupil? A burden to another school? -And in case the transfer implies the same freedom, the old disorderly -conduct will usually be resumed. Such pupils must, therefore, be placed -under very strict supervision and given new occupations. We must trust -to the new environment to obliterate gradually the old vitiated circle -of thought. - -53. It is a well-known fact that authority and love are surer means -of securing order than harsh measures are. But authority cannot be -created by every one at will. It implies obvious superiority in mind, -in knowledge, in physique, in external circumstances. Love can, indeed, -be gained in the course of time by a complaisant manner--the love of -well-disposed pupils; but just where government becomes most necessary, -complaisance has to cease. Love must not be purchased at the expense -of weak indulgence; it is of value only when united with the necessary -severity. - -54. In early childhood and with healthy children, government is, on -the whole, easy. It continues to be easy after they have once formed -habits of obedience. But it should not be interrupted. Even if children -have been left to themselves or in charge of strangers only a few days, -the change is noticeable. It requires an effort to tighten the reins -again--something not to be done too suddenly. - -Where boys have been allowed to run wild, the attempt to bring them -back to orderly conduct reveals the differences of individuality. Some -are easily made to return to appropriate work by kindness combined with -a moderate measure of forbearance, others have sense enough to fear -threats and to avoid penalties; but we may unfortunately also expect to -find a few whose sole thought is to escape from supervision, however -unpleasant for them the consequences may be. - -Where home ties are wanting, this spirit may develop even during -boyhood with ominous rapidity; during adolescence the difficulty of -checking it may grow to be insuperable. - -55. As a rule, it is reasonable to assume that youth will try to break -through restraints as soon as these are felt. A sufficient amount of -satisfying activity, together with uniform firmness of the lines of -restraint, will, indeed, soon put an end to persistent attempts of -this kind; yet they will be repeated from time to time. As boys grow -older there is a change of pursuits; now the restraining boundaries -must gradually be enlarged. The question now is whether education has -progressed sufficiently far to make government less indispensable. -Moreover, the choice of work comes to be determined by the prospects -opening before the young man, according to his rank and means, together -with his native capabilities and acquired knowledge. To encourage -such pursuits as being appropriate for him, and, on the other hand, -to reduce mere hobbies and diversions to harmless proportions, still -remains the function of government. In any case government should not -be wholly surrendered too early, least of all when the environment is -such as to justify apprehension of temptation. - - Though American teachers are perhaps not accustomed to emphasize the - distinction between government for order and training for character, - the difference, nevertheless, exists, often in an exaggerated form. - Just as fever is looked upon as the measure of functional disturbance - in the body, so disorder in the schoolroom is looked upon as the - measure of the teacher's failure. As fever is the universal symptom - of disease, so disorder is the index of failure. The diagnosis may - err in either case as to what the seat of the difficulty really is, - but that something is wrong is plain to all. The fact that the public - usually gauge a teacher's efficiency by the order he keeps has led - in the past to an exaggerated emphasis upon school discipline. The - means for securing good order have greatly changed since Herbart's - time. A growing sense of social solidarity in the community, together - with the all but universal employment of women as teachers in the - elementary grades, has transferred the basis of discipline from - the teacher to the community. It is social pressure in and out of - the school that is the main reliance for regularity, punctuality, - and order. Herbart wonders what will become of the bad boy if he is - expelled. The modern answer is, he will be sent to the reform school - or to the truant school. The teacher still stands as of old at the - point of contact between the institution and the individual; nor can - he entirely escape the heat generated at times by such contact, but, - after all, it is society that now supplies the pressure formerly - exerted by will and birch. The teacher is now more of a mediator - between the pupil and the organized community, than an avenger of - broken law. - - - - -SECTION II - -INSTRUCTION - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=The Relation of Instruction to Government and Training= - - -56. Instruction furnishes a part of those occupations which lie at the -basis of government; how large a part depends on circumstances. - -Children must be kept employed at all events, because idleness leads to -misbehavior and lawlessness. Now if the employment consists of useful -labor, say in the workshop or on the farm, so much the better. Better -still, if the work teaches the child something that will contribute -to his further education. But not all employment is instruction; and -in cases where the mere government of children is a difficult matter, -lessons are not always the most adequate employment. Many a growing boy -will be taught orderly conduct much sooner when placed with a mechanic -or merchant or farmer than in school. The scope of government is wider -than that of instruction. - - Teachers of manual training everywhere testify to the quieting effect - of directed physical labor upon stormy spirits. Even a truant school - or a school for incorrigibles becomes an attractive place to the - inmates when adequate provision is made for the exercise of the motor - powers. Most children can be controlled through mental occupation, - but there are some to whom motor activity is indispensable. That a - judicious apportionment of sensory and motor activity would favorably - affect the development of all children is not to be questioned. - -57. Instruction and training have this in common, that each makes for -education and hence for the future, while government provides for the -present. A distinction should, however, be made here. Instruction is -far from being always educative or pedagogical. Where acquisition of -wealth and external success or strong personal preference supply the -motives for study, no heed is paid to the question: What will be the -gain or loss to character? One actuated by such motives sets out, such -as he is, to learn one thing or another, no matter whether for good or -bad or for indifferent ends; to him the best teacher is he who imparts -_tuto, cito, jucunde_, the proficiency desired. Instruction of this -kind is excluded from our discussion; we are concerned here only with -instruction that educates in the moral sense of the term. - -58. Man's worth does not, it is true, lie in his knowing, but in his -willing. But there is no such thing as an independent faculty of -will. Volition has its roots in thought; not, indeed, in the details -one knows, but certainly in the combinations and total effect of -the acquired ideas. The same reason, therefore, which in psychology -accounts for considering the formation of ideas first, and then desire -and volition, necessitates a corresponding order in pedagogics: first -the theory of instruction, then that of training. - - =Note.=--Formerly, strange to say, no distinction was made between - government and training, although it is obvious that the immediate - present demands attention more urgently than does the future. - Still less was instruction given its true place. The greater or - smaller amount of knowledge, regarded as a matter of secondary - importance in comparison with personal culture, was taken up last. - The treatment of education as the development of character preceded - that of instruction, just as though the former could be realized - without the latter. During the last decades, however, a demand - has arisen for greater activity on the part of schools, primarily - the higher schools. Humanistic studies are to bestow humanity, or - culture. It has come to be understood that the human being is more - easily approached from the side of knowledge than from the side of - moral sentiments and disposition. Furthermore, examinations might - be set on the former, but not on the latter. Now the time for - instruction was found to be too limited--a want that the old Latin - schools had felt but little. This led to discussions as to the - relative amount due each branch of study. We shall treat chiefly - of the correlation of studies, for whatever remains isolated is of - little significance. - -59. In educative teaching, the mental activity incited by it is all -important. This activity instruction is to increase, not to lessen; to -ennoble, not to debase. - - =Note.=--A diminution of mental activity ensues, when, because - of much study and of sitting--especially at all sorts of written - work, often useless--physical growth is interfered with in a way - sooner or later to the injury of health. Hence the encouragement - given in recent years to gymnastic exercises, which may, however, - become too violent. Deterioration sets in when knowledge is - made subservient to ostentation and external advantages--the - objectionable feature of many public examinations. Schools ought - not to be called upon to display all they accomplish. By such - methods instruction not only works against its own true end, but - also conflicts with training, whose aim for the whole future of the - pupil is--_mens sana in corpore sano_. - -60. If all mental activity were of only one kind, the subject-matter -of instruction would be of no consequence. But we need not go beyond -experience to see that the opposite is true, that there is a great -diversity of intellectual endowment. Yet while instruction must thus be -differentiated, it should not be made so special as to cultivate only -the more prominent gifts; otherwise the pupil's less vigorous mental -functions would be wholly neglected and perhaps suppressed. Instruction -must rather be manifold, and its manifoldness being the same for many -pupils in so far as it may help to correct inequalities in mental -tendencies. - - Not only is subject-matter to be varied on account of mental - diversity, but also for social reasons as well. For an enlargement of - this theme, see the annotation to paragraph 65. - -61. What is to be taught and learned is, accordingly, not left for -caprice and conventionality to decide. In this respect instruction -differs in a striking manner from government, for which, if only -idleness is prevented, it hardly matters what work children are given -to do. - - =Note.=--Children are sent to school from many homes simply because - they are in the way and their parents do not wish them to be idle. - The school is regarded as an institution whose chief function is to - govern, but which incidentally also imparts useful knowledge. Here - there is a lack of insight into the nature of true mental culture; - teachers, on the contrary, sometimes forget that they are giving - pupils work, and that work should not exceed reasonable limits. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Aim of Instruction= - - -62. The ultimate purpose of instruction is contained in the notion, -virtue. But in order to realize the final aim, another and nearer one -must be set up. We may term it, _many-sidedness of interest_. The -word _interest_ stands in general for that kind of mental activity -which it is the business of instruction to incite. Mere information -does not suffice; for this we think of as a supply or store of facts, -which a person might possess or lack, and still remain the same being. -But he who lays hold of his information and reaches out for more, -takes an interest in it. Since, however, this mental activity, is -varied (60), we need to add the further determination supplied by the -term _many-sidedness_. - - It has been pointed out[3] what the content of the word _virtue_ - must be, if this word is to be an adequate expression for the - ultimate purpose of instruction. Virtue must embrace not only what - is purely individual, or subjective, such as piety and humaneness - of disposition, but it must likewise include what is objective, - or social, in conduct. This fact lends a new significance to the - doctrine of interest, for though a normal child is not naturally - interested in introspective analysis of his feelings, he is - spontaneously interested in what is objective and within the range - of his experience. The enterprises of his mates, the regulations of - his school or home, the erection of houses, the introduction of new - machinery, the social doings of the neighborhood, the havoc created - by the elements, the prominent features of the changing year--all - these claim his closest attention. The common school studies deal - with these very things. Literature (reading) and history reveal - to him the conduct of men; the one considering it ideally, the - other historically. Mathematics teaches the mastery of material - when considered quantitatively, whether in trade or manufacture or - construction. Nature studies bring the child into intimate touch with - the significant in his natural environment. Geography shows him the - most obvious features of the industrial activity about him. It shows - him the chief conditions of production in crops and manufactures; it - also gives him hints of the great business of commerce. In all these - studies, the natural inclinations of the mind are directly appealed - to. Not a little of the importance of the doctrine of interest in - instruction depends upon these facts; for both the insight and the - disposition that instruction is capable of imparting to the pupil - relates specifically to the objective side of his character, the one - most in need of development and most susceptible of it. - -[3] Paragraphs 8-15. - -63. We may speak also of indirect as distinguished from direct -interest. But a predominance of indirect interest tends to -one-sidedness, if not to selfishness. The interest of the selfish -man in anything extends only so far as he can see advantages -or disadvantages to himself. In this respect the one-sided man -approximates the selfish man, although the fact may escape his own -observation; since he relates everything to the narrow sphere for -which he lives and thinks. Here lies his intellectual power, and -whatever does not interest him as means to his limited ends, becomes an -impediment. - - It is important for the teacher to see the full scope of the doctrine - of interest in its relation to effort. In Herbart's psychology it - assumes a most important place, since the primacy of mental life is, - in this system, ascribed to _ideas_. In other systems, notably those - of Kant, Schopenhauer, Von Hartmann, Paulsen, primacy is ascribed to - the will, first in unconscious or subconscious striving, later in - conscious volition. This fundamental difference in standpoint will - account for the emphasis laid now upon _interest_, now upon _effort_. - Herbart conceives that conscious feelings, desires, motives, and the - like have their source in ideas, and that volition in turn arises - from the various emotional states aroused by the ideas. Interest - with him thus becomes a permanent or ever renewed, ever changing, - ever growing desire for the accomplishment of certain ends. It is, - consequently, a direct, necessary stimulus to the will. Systems, - however, that regard the will as the primary factor in mental life, - conceiving of ideas only as a means for revealing more clearly the - ends of volition, together with the best methods of reaching them, - are naturally prone to place the emphasis upon _effort_, leaving to - interest but a secondary or quite incidental function. Dr. John Dewey - has attempted to reconcile these two views.[4] Interest and effort - are complementary, not opposing ideas. To emphasize one at the - expense of the other, is to assume that the ends for which we act lie - quite outside of our personality, so that these ends would, on the - one hand, have to be _made_ interesting, or, on the other, struggled - for without regard to interest. This assumption is an error. The ends - for which we strive must be conceived as internal, our efforts being - regarded as attempts at self-realization in definite directions. The - purpose of our action is therefore an end desired. In this we have - an interest surely. As an educational doctrine, however, interest - concerns chiefly the means of reaching these ends. If interest in - the means is wanting, the child works with a _divided attention_. He - gives only so much to the means as he must; the remainder is devoted - to his own affairs,--the past or coming ball-game, the picnic, the - walk in the woods, the private enterprises of home or school. But if - a lively interest is felt in the means to the end, then the whole - self is actively employed for the time being in the accomplishment of - the purpose of the hour. The attention is no longer divided, it is - concentrated upon the matter in hand. This in the school is _work_. - When the attention is divided we have drudgery. This signifies that - the interest felt in the end, say a dollar, is not felt in the means - of attaining it, say a day's labor. However inevitable drudgery may - be in life, it should have no place in the schoolroom. The teacher - must so present the studies that the pupil can perceive at least a - fraction of their bearing upon life. This awakens an interest in them - as ends. He must, then, by conformity to the psychological order of - learning, by enthusiasm and ingenuity, so teach the subjects that - the natural interest in the end will be constantly enhanced through - a lively interest in the daily lesson as the means of reaching it. - The result is unified attention, zeal in the pursuit of knowledge, - hospitality for ethical ideals. - -[4] "Interest as Related to the Will," second supplement to the Herbart -Year Book, revised and reprinted, Chicago University Press, 1899. - -64. As regards the bearings of interest on virtue, we need to remember -that many-sidedness of interest alone, even of direct interest such as -instruction is to engender, is yet far from being identical with virtue -itself; also that, conversely, the weaker the original mental activity, -the less likelihood that virtue will be realized at all, not to speak -of the variety of manifestation possible in action. Imbeciles cannot be -virtuous. Virtue involves an awakening of mind. - - The conception, that by awakening many-sided direct interest in the - studies we can powerfully affect character, is perhaps peculiar to - the thought of Herbart. Yet when we consider that the knowledge - taught in the school goes to the root of every vital human relation, - that, in other words, the studies may be made instruments for - progressively revealing to the child his place and function in the - world, it follows as a necessary consequence, that to interest the - pupil thoroughly in these branches of learning, is to work at the - foundation of his character, so far, at least, as insight into duty - and disposition to do it are concerned. Even if interest in ethical - things is not of itself virtue, it is an important means for securing - virtue. This idea adds to the teacher's resources for the development - of character. It also opens up to him a new realm for research. All - literature, history, science, mathematics, geography, language, may - be examined from this new standpoint, both with respect to selection - and to methods of presentation. Select the portions that pertain - intimately to life; teach them so that their important bearing upon - it may be seen. - - =Note.=--As has been stated already (17), the most immediate of - the practical ideas demanding recognition from the teacher is the - idea of perfection. Now, with reference to this idea, three factors - are to be considered: the intensity, the range, the unification of - intellectual effort. Intensity is implied in the word _interest_; - extension is connoted by many-sidedness; what is meant by - unification will be briefly indicated in the next paragraph. - -65. Scattering no less than one-sidedness forms an antithesis to -many-sidedness. Many-sidedness is to be the basis of virtue; but -the latter is an attribute of personality, hence it is evident that -the unity of self-consciousness must not be impaired. The business -of instruction is to form the person on many sides, and accordingly -to avoid a distracting or dissipating effect. And instruction has -successfully avoided this in the case of one who with ease surveys his -well-arranged knowledge _in all of its unifying relations_ and holds it -together as _his very own_. - - This section points to the correlation of studies, a subject to - be considered hereafter in detail. It also throws light upon the - modern system of elective courses or elective studies in secondary - and higher education. The teachable subjects have now become so - numerous that election is imperative unless what is to be taught is - determined arbitrarily without regard to the needs or inclinations of - students. Furthermore, election is made imperative by the fact that - the higher education is now open to all minds of all social classes, - and that differentiated industry calls for many kinds of education. - But the need for mental symmetry, no less imperative now than in the - past, is reinforced by the need for social symmetry. Education must - put the student into sympathetic touch with the whole of life, not - a mere segment of it. Since many-sidedness cannot be interpreted - to mean knowledge of all subjects, this being impossible, it must - be interpreted to mean knowledge of all departments of learning. - Election may be permitted to emphasize departments of study, but - not to ignore them entirely. There are four or more languages worth - teaching, many departments of history, numerous sciences, and various - branches of mathematics, not to speak of the economic, political, - and social sciences. Enough of each department being given to insure - intelligent sympathy with the aspect of civilization it presents, - the student may be allowed to place the emphasis upon such groups of - studies as best conserve his tastes, his ability, and his destination - in life. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=The Conditions of Many-sidedness= - - -66. It becomes obvious at once that a many-sided culture cannot be -brought about quickly. The requisite store of ideas is acquired only -by successive efforts; but unification, a view of the whole, and -assimilation are to be attained besides (65), whence an alternation, in -time, of absorption and reflection. The apprehension of the manifold is -of necessity a gradual process, and the same is true of the unification -of knowledge. - - In _absorption_ the mind surrenders itself to the acquisition or - contemplation of facts. Thus a child will stand in open-eyed wonder - at beholding a novel spectacle, the scientist becomes absorbed in - watching the outcome of a new experiment, the philosopher loses - consciousness to all about him in the unfolding of some new train - of thought. Not only may absorption concern momentary experiences, - but it may in a broad way be said to cover considerable periods - of life, as, for instance, when a student becomes absorbed in the - mastery of foreign languages having no immediate relation to his - daily life. _Reflection_ is the assimilation of the knowledge gained - by absorption. The mind, recovering from its absorption in what - is external, relates its new-found experience to the sum of its - former experiences. New items of knowledge in this way find their - appropriate places in the organic structure of the mind. They are - apperceived. The many-sided thus comes to unity. - - Rosenkranz calls absorption and reflection, _self-estrangement_ and - its _removal_. "All culture," he says, "whatever may be its special - purport, must pass through these two stages,--of estrangement, - and its removal." Again, he says, "The mind is (1) immediate (or - potential); but (2) it must estrange itself from itself, as it were, - so that it may place itself over against itself as a special object - of attention; (3) this estrangement is finally removed through a - further acquaintance with the object ... it feels itself at home in - that on which it looks, and returns again enriched to the form of - immediateness (to unity with itself). That which at first appeared - to be another than itself is now seen to be itself."[5] This is an - abstract statement of the fact that (1) in learning the mind becomes - absorbed for a time in external objects, ignoring temporarily their - inner meaning and relation to self, and (2) this period of absorption - is succeeded by one of reflection, in which the mind perceives - the significance of what has been observed, noting the laws and - principles underlying the phenomena and thus assimilating them to - what it conceives to be rational. - - Owing to the fact that absorption and reflection may refer to very - short and also to comparatively long periods, they may be studied - with respect to their bearing in conducting recitations, and to their - importance in fixing courses of study. The former aspect of the two - processes will in this connection chiefly occupy our attention. - -[5] "Philosophy of Education," pp. 27, 28, New York, D. Appleton & Co. - -67. Some teachers lay great stress on the explication, step by step, of -the smaller and smallest components of the subject, and insist on a -similar reproduction on the part of the pupils. Others prefer to teach -by conversation, and allow themselves and their pupils great freedom of -expression. Others, again, call especially for the leading thoughts, -but demand that these be given with accuracy and precision, and in the -prescribed order. Others, finally, are not satisfied until their pupils -are self-actively exercising their minds in systematic thinking. - -Various methods of teaching may thus arise; it is not necessary, -however, that one should be habitually employed to the exclusion of -the rest. We may ask rather whether each does not contribute its share -to a many-sided culture. In order that a multitude of facts may be -apprehended, explications or analyses are needed to prevent confusion; -but since a synthesis is equally essential, the latter process may -be started by conversation, continued by lifting into prominence the -cardinal thoughts, and completed by the methodical independent thinking -of the pupil: _clearness_, _association_, _system_, _method_. - - In teaching we need to have (1) _clearness_ in the presentation - of specific facts, or the elements of what is to be mastered; - (2) _association_ of these facts with one another, and with other - related facts formerly acquired, in order that assimilation, or - apperception, may be adequately complete; (3) when sufficient facts - have been clearly presented and sufficiently assimilated, they must - be _systematically_ ordered, so that our knowledge will be more - perfectly unified than it could be did we stop short of thorough - classification, as in the study of botany, or of the perception of - rules and principles, as in mathematics and grammar; (4) finally the - facts, rules, principles, and classifications thus far assumed must - be secured for all time by their efficient _methodical_ application - in exercises that call forth the vigorous self-activity of the - pupil. These four stages of teaching may be considered fundamental, - though varying greatly according to the nature of the subject and - the ability of the pupil. It is good exercise for a pupil to take - long, rapid steps when able to do so; it is hopeless confusion to - undertake them when they are too great or too rapid for his capacity. - These four stages in methods of teaching conceived to be essential, - form the nucleus of an interesting development in the Herbartian - school, under the title of "The Formal [_i.e._ Essential] Steps - of Instruction." The leading ideas will be further described in a - subsequent paragraph (70). - -68. On closer inspection we find that instead of being mutually -exclusive, these various modes of instruction are requisite, one by -one, in the order given above, for every group, small or large, of -subjects to be taught. - -For, first, the beginner is able to advance but slowly. For him the -shortest steps are the safest steps. He must stop at each point as -long as is necessary to make him apprehend distinctly each individual -fact. To this he must give his whole thought. During the initial stage, -the teacher's art consists, therefore, preëminently in knowing how to -resolve his subject into very small parts. In this way he will avoid -taking sudden leaps without being aware that he is doing so. - -Secondly, association cannot be effected solely by a systematic mode -of treatment, least of all at first. In the system each part has -its own fixed place. At this place it is connected directly with -the nearest other parts, but also separated from other more remote -parts by a definite distance, and connected with these only by way of -determinate intervening members, or links. Besides, the nature of this -connection is not the same everywhere. Furthermore, a system is not to -be learned merely. It is to be used, applied, and often needs to be -supplemented by additions inserted in appropriate places. To be able -to do this requires skill in diverting one's thoughts from any given -starting-point to every other point, forward, backward, sideways. Hence -two things are requisite; preparation for the system, and application -of the system. Preparation is involved in association; exercise in -systematic thinking must follow. - -69. During the first stage, when the clear apprehension of the -individual object or fact is the main thing, the shortest and most -familiar words and sentences are the most appropriate. The teacher will -often find it advisable also to have some, if not all, of the pupils -repeat them accurately after him. As is well known, even speaking in -concert has been tried in many schools not entirely without success, -and for young beginners this method may indeed at times answer very -well. - -For association, the best mode of procedure is informal conversation, -because it gives the pupil an opportunity to test and to change the -accidental union of his thoughts, to multiply the links of connection, -and to assimilate, after his own fashion, what he has learned. It -enables him, besides, to do at least a part of all this in any way that -happens to be the easiest and most convenient. He will thus escape the -inflexibility of thought that results from a purely systematic learning. - -System, on the other hand, calls for a more connected discourse, -and the period of presentation must be separated more sharply from -the period of repetition. By exhibiting and emphasizing the leading -principles, system impresses upon the minds of pupils the value of -organized knowledge; through its greater completeness it enriches their -store of information. But pupils are incapable of appreciating either -advantage when the systematic presentation is introduced too early. - -Skill in systematic thinking the pupil will obtain through the solution -of assigned tasks, his own independent attempts, and their correction. -For such work will show whether he has fully grasped the general -principles, and whether he is able to recognize them in and apply them -to particulars. - -70. These remarks on the initial analysis and the subsequent gradual -uniting of the matter taught, hold true, in general and in detail, of -the most diverse objects and branches of instruction. Much remains to -be added, however, to define with precision the application of these -principles to a given subject and to the age of the pupil. It will -suffice, for the present, if we remind ourselves that instruction -provides a portion of the occupations necessary to government (56). -Now, instruction produces fatigue in proportion to its duration; more -or less, of course, according to individual differences. But the more -fatiguing it is, the less it accomplishes as employment. This fact -alone shows clearly the necessity of intermissions and change of -work. If the pupil has become actually tired, that is, has not lost -merely inclination to work, this feeling must be allowed, as far as -is practicable, to pass away, at any rate to diminish, before the -same subject is resumed in a somewhat modified form. In order to have -time enough for this, the systematic presentation must in many cases -be postponed until long after the first lessons in the elements have -begun, and conversely, the rudiments of a subject frequently have to be -at least touched upon long before connected instruction can be thought -of. Many a principle needs to be approached from a great distance. - - Herbart found his basis for the four steps of method, viz. - _clearness_, _association_, _system_, _method_, in the ideas of - absorption and reflection, the alternate pulsation of consciousness - in absorbing and assimilating knowledge. Others, adopting this - classification as essentially correct, have related these steps to - customary psychological analysis. Thus Dörpfeld and Wiget point - out that the mind goes through three well-marked processes when it - performs the complete act of learning, namely, _perception_ of new - facts; _thought_, or the bringing of ideas into logical relations; - and _application_, or the exercise of the motor activities of the - mind in putting knowledge into use. Perception gives the _percept_, - thought gives the _conception_ (or rule, principle, generalization), - and application gives _power_. In other words, the receptive and - reflective capacities of the mind come to their full fruition when - they result in adequate motor activities. With respect to perception - a good method will first _prepare_ the mind for facts and will then - _present_ them so that they may be apperceived. The first two steps - are therefore _preparation_ and _presentation_. The first step, as - Ziller pointed out, is essentially _analytic_ in character, since it - analyzes the present store of consciousness in order to bring facts - to the front that are closely related to those of the present lesson; - the second step, _i.e._, presentation, is essentially _synthetic_, - since its function is to add the matter of the new lesson to related - knowledge already in possession. Both together constitute the initial - stages of apperception. - - _Thought_ consists of two processes that may also be termed steps, - and that are more or less observable in all good teaching; they are - (1) the _association_ of newly apperceived facts with one another and - with older and more firmly established ideas in order that rational - connection may be established in what one knows, and especially - in order that what is general and essential in given facts may be - grasped by the mind; and (2) the condensation of knowledge into a - _system_, such for instance as we see in the classifications of - botany and zoölogy, or in the interdependence of principles as in - arithmetic. Thought, in brief, involves the association of ideas and - the derivation of generalizations such as are appropriate to the - matter in hand and to the thought power of the pupils. - - The third stage, that of _application_, is not subdivided. Most - other followers of Herbart, both German and American, though varying - in methods of approach, conform essentially to the results of this - analysis, distinguishing _five_ steps, as follows:-- - - 1. Preparation--Analysis } - 2. Presentation--Synthesis } Apperception of percepts. - 3. Association } Thought. The derivation and arrangement - 4. Systemization } of rule, principle, or class. - 5. Application. From knowing to doing: use of motor powers. - - The reader is referred to the following-named works for extended - discussion of this topic: McMurray, "General Method"; DeGarmo, - "Essentials of Method"; Lange, "Apperception," pp. 200-245; Rein - (Van Liew's translation), "Outlines of Pedagogy"; Herbart (Felkins' - translation), "Science of Education"; McMurray, C. A. & F. M., "The - Method of the Recitation." A comparative view of the treatment of - the Steps of Instruction by various authors is found in Van Liew's - translation of Rein's "Outlines of Pedagogy," p. 145. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=The Conditions Determining Interest= - - -71. Interest means self-activity. The demand for a many-sided interest -is, therefore, a demand for many-sided self-activity. But not all -self-activity, only the right degree of the right kind, is desirable; -else lively children might very well be left to themselves. There would -be no need of educating or even of governing them. It is the purpose -of instruction to give the right _direction_ to their thoughts and -impulses, to incline these toward the morally good and true. Children -are thus in a measure passive. But this passivity should by no means -involve suppression of self-activity. It should, on the contrary, imply -a stimulation of all that is best in the child. - -At this point a psychological distinction becomes necessary, namely, -that between designedly reproduced, or "given," and spontaneous -representations. In recitations of what has been learned we have an -example of the former; the latter appear in the games and fancies of -children. A method of study that issues in mere reproduction leaves -children largely in a passive state, for it crowds out for the time -being the thoughts they would otherwise have had. In games, however, -and in the free play of fancy, and accordingly also in that kind of -instruction which finds an echo here, free activity predominates. - -This distinction is not intended to affirm the existence of two -compartments in which the ideas, separated once for all, would, of -necessity, have to remain. Ideas that must by effort be raised into -consciousness because they do not rise spontaneously, may become -spontaneous by gradual strengthening. But this development we cannot -count on unless instruction, advancing step by step, bring it about. - - Interest must be conceived as self-propulsive activity toward an - end. It is a part of the teacher's function to assist the pupil in - making the appropriate ideas strong and spontaneous. Occasionally - a mere suggestion will change the whole mental attitude toward an - end and the means for reaching it. A student one day approached his - instructor with this query: "How can I get through this study with - the least expenditure of time and effort?" The desired answer was - first given. The instructor then remarked that there was another way - of viewing the matter, viz., that one might consider how to get the - _most_ rather than the _least_ out of the study. He then briefly - unfolded its nature and possibilities, whereupon the student became - one of the most interested members of the class. He had come with - only an indirect interest in the subject as an end; he regarded the - study as a required task and the means of passing upon it as so much - drudgery; but he so changed his attitude toward it, that the study - became an end personally desired, and the daily effort a pleasurable - exercise of his self-directed power of thought. The interest that - the instructor had aroused in the end was transferred to the means. - -72. It is the teacher's business, while giving instruction, to observe -whether the ideas of his pupils rise spontaneously or not. If they do, -the pupils are said to be attentive; the lesson has won their interest. -If not, attention is, indeed, not always wholly gone. It may, moreover, -be enforced for a time before actual fatigue sets in. But doubt arises -whether instruction can effect a future interest in the same subjects. - -Attention is a factor of such importance to education as to call for a -more detailed treatment. - -73. Attention may be broadly defined as an attitude of mind in which -there is readiness to form new ideas. Such readiness is either -voluntary or involuntary. If voluntary, it depends on a resolution; -the teacher frequently secures this through admonitions or threats. -Far more desirable and fruitful is involuntary attention. It is this -attention that the art of teaching must seek to induce. Herein lies the -kind of interest to be sought by the teacher. - - _Forced_ and _spontaneous_ are more truly expressive terms than - _voluntary_ and _involuntary_ in this connection. It is not meant - that interested activity is _against_ the will, or even indifferent - to it. On the contrary, it is a form of activity that calls every - resource of the mind into full play. The will is never so promptly - active as when it is doing the things in which it is most interested; - it is, however, a _spontaneous_, not a _forced_ activity. - - There is, as Dr. John Dewey points out,[6] a contradiction between - Herbart's Pedagogy and his Psychology, as follows: the Pedagogy - regards interest as the lever of education, the means for securing - spontaneous activity of mind; the Psychology regards interest as a - feeling arising from the relation of ideas. Ideas must therefore be - _given_, in right relations, to arouse interest, while interest is in - turn conceived as the means of arousing them. This is reasoning in a - circle. The difficulty arises from asserting the primacy of ideas in - mental life, and then speaking of _self-activity_, which presupposes - the primacy of motor, or impulsive activities. The reader will avoid - all contradictions in educational theory by accepting the modern - view of the primacy, not of ideas, but of what may broadly be termed - _will_. The latter view is in accord with biological and historical - science. Ideas are a later production of mind; they serve to define - more clearly the ends for which we work, at the same time giving us - insight into the best means of attaining them. For an interesting - discussion of the primacy of the will, the reader is referred to - Professor Paulsen's "Introduction to Philosophy," pp. 111-122.[7] - -[6] "Interest as Related to Will," pp. 237-241, Second Supplement to -First Herbart Year Book. - -[7] Henry Holt & Co., New York, 1895. - -74. Involuntary [spontaneous] attention is subdivided into primitive -and apperceiving. The latter especially is of the greatest importance -in teaching, but it rests on the former, the conditions of which must -constantly be taken into account. - -Apperception, or assimilation, takes place through the reproduction of -previously acquired ideas and their union with the new element, the -most energetic apperception, although not necessarily the best, being -effected by the ideas rising spontaneously. This topic will be treated -more fully below (77). Here it suffices to say that the apperceiving -attention obviously presupposes the primitive attention; otherwise -apperceiving ideas would never have been formed. - - The psychological and educational importance of the idea of - apperception, or the assimilation of knowledge, has been much - emphasized in recent years. For a psychological interpretation of - the theory, the reader is referred to Wundt's "Human and Animal - Psychology,"[8] pp. 235-251. The educational significance of the - doctrine has been well brought out by Dr. Karl Lange, in his able - monograph on "Apperception."[9] The subject has been more popularly - treated in Dr. McMurray's "General Method,"[10] and in the writer's - "Essentials of Method"[11]; also in a number of other works. - -[8] New York, Macmillan & Co., 1894. - -[9] Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1894. - -[10] Bloomington, Ill., Public School Pub. Co., 1894. - -[11] Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1893. - -75. The primitive or original attention depends primarily on the -strength of the sense-impression. Bright colors and loud speaking are -more easily noticed than dark colors and low tones. It would be an -error, however, to infer that the strongest sense-perceptions are at -the same time the most adequate. These quickly blunt the receptivity, -while weak sense-impressions may, in the course of time, engender -ideation as energetic as that produced by originally obtrusive -perceptions. For this reason, a middle course must be chosen from -the first. For children, however, the direct sense-perception, even -of a picture, if the object itself is not to be had, is altogether -preferable to mere description. - -The presence in the minds of children of ideas--those supplied by -instruction itself not excepted--contrary to the new representations to -be mastered, acts as a hindrance or check. This very fact explains why -clearness of apprehension is not gained where instruction piles up one -thing upon another in too rapid succession. It is essential, therefore, -in the case of beginners, so to single out each fact, to separate -part from part, and to proceed step by step, that apprehension may be -rendered easy for them. - -A second hindrance to attention is of a more temporary character, but -may nevertheless work much mischief. It makes a vast difference whether -the ideas aroused are in a state of equilibrium or not. Long sentences -in speech and in books are less easily apprehended than short ones. -They excite a movement of many albeit connected thoughts, which do not -at once subside into their proper places. Now, just as in reading and -writing pauses must be observed, which is done more easily in short -than in long sentences, instruction in general must have its chosen -stopping-places and resting-points at which the child may tarry as -long as may be necessary. Otherwise the accumulation of thoughts will -become excessive, crowding in upon what follows, and this upon the next -new element, until finally the pupils arrive at a state where they no -longer hear anything. - -76. The four essentials then for primitive attention are: strength -of sense-impression, economy of receptivity, avoidance of harmful -antitheses to existing ideas, and delay until the aroused ideas have -recovered their equilibrium. But in actual teaching it will be found -difficult to do justice to all of these requirements simultaneously. -Sameness of presentation should not be carried too far lest the child's -receptivity be taxed too heavily. Monotony produces weariness. But a -sudden change of subject frequently discloses the fact that the new is -too remote from what has preceded, and that the old thoughts refuse -to give way. If the change is delayed too long the lesson drags. Too -little variety causes ennui. The pupils begin to think of something -else, and with that their attention is gone completely. - -The teacher should by all means study literary masterpieces for -the purpose of learning from great authors how they escaped these -difficulties. That he may strike the right chord in the earlier stages -of instruction, he should turn particularly to simple popular writers, -Homer, for example, whose story-telling is, on the other hand, too -general and _naïve_ for older pupils who have lost the power to put -themselves back into a past period of culture. Yet it is safe to -say in general, that classic writers seldom take sudden leaps and -never stand still entirely. Their method of unfolding consists in a -scarcely perceptible, at any rate an always easy, advance. They dwell, -indeed, long on the same thought, but nevertheless achieve, little -by little, most powerful contrasts. Poor writers, on the contrary, -pile up the most glaring antitheses without other than the natural -result--the antagonistic ideas expel each other and the mind is left -empty. The same result threatens the teacher who aims at brilliancy of -presentation. - -77. The apperceiving, or assimilating, attention (74), though not the -first in time, is yet observed very early. It shows itself when little -children catch and repeat aloud single, familiar words of an otherwise -unintelligible conversation between adults; when a little later they -name, in their own way, the well-known objects that they come upon in -their picture-books; when later still, while learning to read, they -pick out from the book single names coinciding with their recollection; -and so on in innumerable other instances. From within ideas are -suddenly bursting forth to unite with whatever similar elements present -themselves. Now this apperceiving activity must be exercised constantly -in all instruction. For instruction is given in words only; the ideas -constituting their meaning must be supplied by the hearer. But words -are not meant to be understood merely; they are intended to elicit -interest. And this requires a higher grade and greater facility of -apperception. - -Universally popular poems do not produce their pleasing effect by -teaching something new. They portray what is already known and utter -what every one feels. Ideas already possessed are aroused, expanded, -condensed, and consequently put in order and strengthened. On the other -hand, when defects are apperceived, _e.g._, misprints, grammatical -blunders, faulty drawings, false notes, etc., the successive unfolding -of the series of ideas is interrupted so that their interlacing cannot -take place properly. Here we see how instruction must proceed and what -it must avoid in order to secure interest. - - =Note.=--The apperceiving attention is of so great importance in - instruction that a word or two more will be in place. The highest - stage of this kind of attention is indicated by the words--gaze, - scrutinize, listen, handle. The idea of the examined object is - already present in consciousness, as is likewise the idea of the - class of sense-perceptions looked for. The psychic result turns on - the ensuing sense-impressions, on their contrasts, combinations, - and reproductions. These are able to induce the corresponding - mental states unhindered, because disturbing foreign elements - have already been removed and remain excluded. Passing from this - highest grade to lower degrees of attention, we find that the idea - of the object is not yet--at least not prominently--present, that - this itself first needs to be reproduced and made more vivid. The - question arises whether this can be accomplished directly or only - indirectly. In the former case the idea must be in itself strong - enough; in the second it must be sufficiently united with other - ideas which it is possible to arouse directly. Moreover, the - obstacles to reproduction must be such that they can be overcome. - - When the apperceiving attention is once under way, it should be - utilized and not disturbed. The teaching must take the promised - direction until it has satisfied expectation. The solutions must - correspond clearly to the problems. Everything must be connected. - The attention is disturbed by untimely pauses and the presence of - extraneous matter. It is also disturbed by apperceptions that bring - into light that which should remain in shadow. This is true of - words and phrases too often repeated, of mannerisms of speech--of - everything that gives prominence to the language at the expense - of the subject-matter, even rhymes, verse-forms, and rhetorical - adornment when used in the wrong place. - - But that which is too simple must be avoided also. In this case the - apperception is soon completed; it does not give enough to do. The - fullest unit possible is to be sought. - - A rule of vital importance is that, before setting his pupils at - work, the teacher should take them into the field of ideas wherein - their work is to be done. He can accomplish this at the beginning - of a recitation hour by means of a brief outline view of the ground - to be covered in the lesson or lecture. - -78. Instruction is to supplement that which has been gained already by -experience and by intercourse with others (36); these foundations must -exist when instruction begins. If they are wanting, they must be firmly -established first. Any deficiency here means a loss to instruction, -because the pupils lack the thoughts which they need in order to -interpret the words of the teacher. - -In the same way, knowledge derived from earlier lessons must be -extended and deepened by subsequent instruction. This presupposes such -an organization of the whole work of instruction that that which comes -later shall always find present the earlier knowledge with which it is -to be united. - -79. Ordinarily, because their eyes are fixed solely on the facts to -be learned, teachers concern themselves little with the ideas already -possessed by the pupils. Consequently they make an effort in behalf -of the necessary attention only when it is failing and progress is -checked. Now they have recourse to voluntary attention (73), and to -obtain this rely on inducements, or, more often, on reprimands and -penalties. Indirect interest is thus substituted for direct interest, -with the result that the resolution of the pupil to be attentive fails -to effect energetic apprehension and realizes but little coherence. It -wavers constantly, and often enough gives way to disgust. - -In the most favorable case, if instruction is thorough, _i.e._, -scientific, a foundation of elementary knowledge is gradually laid -sufficiently solid for later years to build on; in other words, out -of the elementary knowledge an apperceiving mass is created in the -mind of the pupil which will aid him in his future studies. There may -be several of such masses; but each constitutes by itself its own -kind of one-sided learning, and it is after all doubtful whether even -here direct interest is implied. For there is small hope that this -interest will be aroused in the youth when the years of boyhood have -been devoted merely to the mastering of preliminary knowledge. The -prospects of future station and calling are opening before him and the -examinations are at hand. - -80. The fact should not be overlooked, however, that even the -best method cannot secure an adequate degree of apperceiving -attention (75-78) from every pupil; recourse must accordingly be had to -the voluntary attention, _i.e._, the pupil's resolution. But for the -necessary measures the teacher must depend, not merely on rewards and -punishments, but chiefly on habit and custom. Instruction unites at -this point with government and training. In all cases where the pupil -begins his work not entirely without compulsion, it is particularly -important that he should soon become aware of his own progress. The -several steps must be distinctly and suitably pointed out to him; they -must at the same time be easy of execution and succeed each other -slowly. The instruction should be given with accuracy, even strictness, -seriousness, and patience. - -81. The voluntary attention is most frequently demanded for memorizing, -for which, apart from all else, the presence of interest is not always -a perfectly favorable condition. This is true even of spontaneous -interest, for the ideas that rise spontaneously have a movement of -their own, which by deviating from the given sequence may lead to -surreptitious substitutions. Like observation, intentional memorizing -presupposes a certain amount of self-control. At this point a question -arises as to the proper place of learning by heart. - -Committing to memory is very necessary; use is made of it in every -department of knowledge. But memorizing should never be the first thing -except when it is done without effort. For if the memorizing of new -matter, which the pupil cannot as yet have associated incorrectly, -costs him an effort, it is plain that the single presentations -encounter some opposition or other by which they are repelled too -quickly for their mutual association to take place. The teacher must -in this case talk the subject over first, set the pupil to work upon -it, make him more familiar with it, and must sometimes even wait for a -more opportune moment. Where clearness in single perceptions and their -association (67 _et seq._) are still deficient, these must be attended -to first of all. After the ideas have been strengthened in this way, -memorizing will be accomplished more easily. - -The assigned series should not be too long. Three foreign words -are often more than enough. Many pupils have to be shown how to -memorize. Left to themselves they will begin over and over again, -then halt, and try in vain to go on. A fundamental rule is that the -starting-point be shifted. If, for example, the name Methuselah -is to be learned, the teacher would, perhaps, say successively: -lah,--selah,--thuselah,--Methuselah. - -Some have to be warned against trying to get through quickly. We have -to do here with a physical mechanism which requires time and whose -operation the pupil himself as little as the teacher should endeavor to -over-accelerate. Slow at first, then faster. - -It is not always advisable to put a stop to all bodily movements. Many -memorize by way of speaking aloud, others through copying, some through -drawing. Reciting in concert also may prove feasible at times. - -Incorrect associations are very much to be feared; they are tenacious. -A great deal, to be sure, may be accomplished through severity; but -when interest in the subject-matter is wholly lacking, the pupil begins -by memorizing incorrectly, then ceases to memorize at all, and simply -wastes time. - -The absolute failure of some pupils in memory work may perhaps be -partly owing to unknown physical peculiarities. Very often, however, -the cause of the evil lies in the state of false tension into which -such pupils put themselves while attempting with reluctance what they -regard as an almost impossible task. A teacher's injudicious attitude -during the first period, his remarks, for instance, about learning -by heart as a thing of toil and trouble, may lead to this state of -mind, for which perhaps awkward first steps in learning to read have -prepared the way. It is foolish to look for means of lightening still -more the exercises of children that retain and recite with facility; -but, on the other hand, great caution is necessary because there are -also others who may be rendered unfit for memorizing by the first -attempt of the teacher to make them recite, or even only to repeat -after him, a certain series of words. In attempting, by such early -tests, to find out whether children retain and reproduce easily, it is -essential that the teacher put them in good humor, that he select his -matter with this end in view, and that he go on only so long as they -feel they can do what is asked of them. The results of his observations -must determine the further mode of procedure. - -82. However carefully the process of memorizing may have been -performed, the question remains: How long will the memorized matter be -retained? On this point teachers deceive themselves time and again, in -spite of universally common experiences. - -Now, in the first place, not everything that is learned by heart needs -to be retained. Many an exercise serves its purpose when it prepares -the way for the next, and renders further development possible. In -this way a short poem is sometimes learned as a temporary means for an -exercise in declamation; or chapters from Latin authors are committed -to memory in order to speed the writing and speaking of Latin. In many -cases it is sufficient for later years if the pupil knows how to look -for literary helps, and how to make use of them. - -But if, secondly, that which has been memorized is to remain impressed -on the memory for a long time, forever if possible, it is only a -questionable expedient to reassign the same thing as often as it is -forgotten. The feeling of weary disgust may more than offset the -possible gain. There is only one efficient method--practice; practice -consisting in the constant application of that which is to be retained -to that which actually interests the pupils, in other words, that which -continually engages the ideas rising spontaneously. - -Here we find the principle that governs the choice of material for -successful memorizing. And as to the amount--so much as is needed -for the immediate future; for excessive quantity promotes an early -forgetting. Besides, in instruction, as in experience, there is a great -deal that may not be accurately remembered, but nevertheless renders -abundant service by stimulating the mind and qualifying it for further -work. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -=The Main Kinds of Interest= - - -83. Instruction is to be linked to the knowledge that experience -provides, and to the ethical sentiments that arise from social -intercourse (36). Empirical interest relates directly to experience; -sympathetic interest to human association. Discursive reflection on the -objects of experience involves the development of speculative interest, -reflection on the wider relations of society that of social interest. -With these we group, on the one hand æsthetic, on the other religious -interest, both of which have their origin not so much in discursive -thought as in a non-progressing contemplation of things and of human -destiny. - - The classification of interests into two groups, namely, (a) those - which arise from knowledge, and (b) those which arise from - association with others, and the subdivision of each of these - into three groups, making six in all, is one not of necessity, - but of convenience. The knowledge interests are, (a) empirical, - (b) speculative, (c) æsthetic; the interests arising from association - are, (a) sympathetic, (b) social, (c) religious. This classification - is adopted without criticism by most Herbartian writers. That the - classification is made simply for convenience may be seen from such - considerations as the following:-- - - 1. Strictly speaking, _all_ interests arise from _experience_, the - social no less than the speculative; hence experience is not a basis - for classification at all. - - 2. Æsthetic interests, resting upon contemplation, need not be put - into a group with those that rest upon the perception of cause and - effect, or other relations perceived by discursive reflection. - - 3. The same is true for those empirical interests that are supposed - to rest upon immediate sense apprehension, such as the interest in - color, shape, sound, taste, odor. - - 4. If perception, reasoning, and sensibility are made bases for the - classification of interests, why should not the active volitional - powers of the mind become a basis likewise? Some claim that pleasure - and pain rest primarily upon the _motor_ side of our activity, rather - than upon the sensory. Our interest in _doing_ is antecedent to our - interest in knowing or feeling. This fact is fully recognized by all - Herbartians in the theory of methods, though it finds no recognition - in their classification of interests. - - It must be granted, however, that Herbart's classification is - convenient, even if not especially scientific. - - The empirical interest is the mental eagerness aroused by direct - appeal to the senses, as by novel shapes, colors, sounds, odors, - and the like. Its first stage is wonder, admiration, fear, awe. The - child that drops his picture-book to chase a butterfly abandons one - empirical interest for a stronger one. This form of interest is - usually transient; unless it develops into a new kind of interest, it - is soon abandoned for some other attraction. A primary teacher may - catch but cannot hold the attention of a child by sensuous devices - leading to nothing beyond themselves. - - The speculative interest is more permanent than the empirical. It - rests primarily on the perception of the relations of cause and - effect; it seeks to know the reasons of things. On this account - it is a higher form of apperception, or mental assimilation. The - most fundamental idea in the speculative interest is that of - purpose. We want to know the _purpose of things_, the function they - are to perform, the end they are expected to reach. Thus a child - has a key to the understanding of even so complicated a machine - as a self-binder, or a printing press, provided he sees clearly - the purpose of each. Until this is perceived the facts are an - unintelligible jumble of particulars. A crude form of the speculative - interest is seen very early in the child, when he demands a reason - for everything. It always remains the mainspring of intellectual - life; when it ceases to be a motive power to thinking, thought is - dead. - - The æsthetic interest rests upon the enjoyment of contemplation, when - an _ideal_, sometimes distinct, sometimes vague, can be perceived - through a _sense medium_. In the Greek statue of _Apollo Belvidere_, - a divinity is represented in marble. In the painting, _Breaking - Home Ties_, the feelings of a lad and his mother upon parting are - portrayed upon canvas. In music the ideal is usually vague, in - poetry it is clear and distinct. The æsthetic value of the latter - is enhanced by good oral recitation, both because appeal is made to - an additional sense, and because the ears of men were attuned to - beautiful poetry long before the eye learned to apprehend it. - - All of these interests, the empirical, the speculative, and the - æsthetic, may be classed as _individual_, since they rest upon - purely subjective grounds. They might belong to any Robinson Crusoe - who became isolated from his fellows. But the remaining groups, the - sympathetic, the social, and the religious, rest upon the idea of - intercourse with others. They are, therefore, of supreme importance - for civilized life. Without the sympathetic coöperation of men - civilization would become impossible. Mephistopheles in "Faust" - defines himself as "the Spirit that ever denies."[12] Consequently - any man who becomes so absorbed in his individual concerns as to deny - all social duties and renounce all social benefits becomes thereby - a kind of civic devil. The cynics of old repudiated all social - obligations, thus making themselves bitter civic devils, while the - Cyrenaics, choosing self-indulgence, but denying likewise social - duties, transformed themselves into sensualistic civic devils. - - It is an imperative duty of the teacher, therefore, to arouse the - social and civic interests of the children, since upon these as - active forces the welfare and possibly the stability of society rest. - - The school is the place, the studies and daily intercourse the means, - whereby this class of interests may be aroused. Pupils brought up - in isolation by private tutors are likely to become non-social in - their disposition. Idiosyncrasies are fostered, there being little - or no development of ideals of social coöperation. The kindergarten, - however, when rightly conducted, is nearly always able to foster the - social instincts so powerfully that even the lack of later education - is not able to obliterate them. When this training is reinforced by - the well-governed school, a solid foundation for civic character is - likely to be laid. The studies most important for the fostering of - social and civic interests are literature, history, civil government, - and geography, though others have a more or less intimate relation to - them. - -[12] "Ich bin der Geist der stets verneint." - -84. We cannot expect to see all of these interests unfold equally in -every individual; but among a number of pupils we may confidently -look for them all. The demand for many-sidedness will accordingly -be satisfied the better, the nearer the single individual likewise -approaches a state of mental culture in which all these kinds of -interest are active with equal energy. - -85. As has already been suggested (37), these six kinds of interest -arise from two sources to which historical and nature studies -respectively correspond. With this the facts observed in classical -high schools (_Gymnasia_) coincide: pupils usually lean toward one -side or the other. It would be a serious blunder, however, to affirm, -on this account, an antithesis between the historical and the natural -science interest; or, worse still, to speak of a philological and a -mathematical interest instead--as is, indeed, not infrequently done. -Such confusion in ideas should not continue; it would lead to utterly -erroneous views of the whole management of instruction. The easiest -means to counteract the evil is a consideration of the multitude of -one-sided tendencies that occur even within the six kinds of interest; -we shall be able, at all events, to bring out still more clearly the -manifold phases of interest that must be taken into account. For the -possible cases of one-sidedness are differentiated far more minutely -than could be shown by the discrimination of only six kinds of interest. - - "Is the ideal education classical or scientific?" This question, - which is still debated, really means, shall we cultivate chiefly the - _social_ or the _knowledge_ interests. The historical, or culture, - studies belong preëminently on the one side, the natural sciences - most largely on the other. Herbert Spencer in 1860 made a special - plea for science studies in his monograph, "Education," claiming that - such studies are of chief worth both for knowledge and training. At - that time classical, or culture, studies had possession of almost - every institution for higher education, so that Spencer's special - plea was justified. At present, however, science, which has developed - its own methods of instruction, holds an equal place with social - studies in the colleges and universities. When we are asked which - half of human interests we will choose, the knowledge or the social, - our reply can only be: We will abandon neither, but choose both. Both - are essential to human happiness; both are necessary for social and - material advance. - -86. Empirical interest becomes one-sided in its way when it seizes upon -one kind of objects of experience to the neglect of the rest. When, for -instance, a person wants to be a botanist exclusively, a mineralogist, -a zoölogist; or when he likes languages only, perhaps only the ancient -or only the modern, or of all these only one; or when as a traveller -he wishes to see, like many so-called tourists, only the countries -that everybody talks about, in order to have seen them too; or when, -as a collector of curiosities, he confines himself to one or the other -fancy; or when, in the capacity of historian, he cares only about the -information bearing on one country, or one period, etc. - -Speculative interest becomes one-sided by confining itself to logic -or to mathematics, mathematics perhaps only as treated by the old -geometricians; or to metaphysics restricted possibly to one system; or -to physics narrowed down perhaps to one hypothesis; or to pragmatic -history. - -Æsthetic interest in one case is concentrated exclusively on painting -and sculpture; in another on poetry, perhaps only on lyric or dramatic -poetry; in still another on music, or perhaps only on a certain species -of music, etc. - -Sympathetic interest is one-sided when a man is willing to live only -with his social peers, or only with fellow-countrymen, or only with -members of his own family; while a fellow-feeling for all others is -wanting. - -Social interest grows one-sided if one gives himself up wholly to one -political party, and measures weal or woe only by party success or -failure. - -Religious interest becomes one-sided according to differences of creed -and sect, to one of which allegiance is given, while those who hold a -different view are regarded as unworthy of esteem. - -Much of this one-sidedness is brought about in later life by one's -vocation. But a man's vocation must not isolate him. Yet this would -happen if such narrowness should make headway in youth. - -87. A still more detailed analysis of the varieties of one-sidedness -would be possible; it is not needed, however, for ascertaining the -position of the above-mentioned high school studies among the subjects -of instruction calculated to stimulate interest. Languages, to begin -with, form a part of the curriculum; but why among so many languages -is the preference given to Latin and Greek? Obviously because of the -literature and history opened through them. Literature with its poets -and orators falls under æsthetic interest; history awakens sympathy -with distinguished men and the weal and woe of society, indirectly -contributing in either case even to religious interest. No better focus -for so many different stimuli can be found. Even speculative interest -is not slighted if inquiries into the grammatical structure of these -languages are added. Moreover, the study of history does not stop with -the ancients; the knowledge of literature also is widened that the -various interests may be developed still more completely. History, -if taught pragmatically, assists speculative interest from another -direction. In this respect, however, mathematics has precedence; only, -in order to effect a sure entrance and abiding results, it must unite -with the natural sciences, which appeal at once to the empirical and -the speculative interest. - -If now these studies coöperate properly, a great deal will be done, in -conjunction with religious instruction, toward turning the youthful -mind in the directions that answer to a many-sided interest. But if, -on the contrary, the languages and mathematics were allowed to fall -apart, if the connecting links were removed, and every pupil were -permitted to choose one or the other branch of study, according to -his preferences, mere bald one-sidedness of the kind sufficiently -characterized above would be the outcome. - -88. It is admitted now that not only classical but also public high -schools in general should provide for this same many-sided culture, -that is, should take account of the same main classes of interests. The -only difference lies in the fact that for the pupils of the classical -high schools the practice of a vocation is not so near at hand; -whereas, in the public high schools, there is a certain preponderance -of modern literature and history, together with inability to equip -completely with the helps to a manifold mental activity those who -purpose to go on. Much the same is true of all the lower schools whose -aim is to educate. It is different with trade schools and polytechnic -institutes; in short, with those schools which presuppose a completed -education--completed to the extent permitted by circumstances. - -If, then, the programme of a public high school is of the right sort, -it will show as well as the curriculum of a classical preparatory -school does, that an attempt is being made to guard against such -one-sidedness as would be the outcome if one of the six main classes of -interest were slighted. - - How one-sidedness under an elective system may be avoided is - discussed in a previous section (65). - -89. But no instruction is able to prevent the special varieties of -one-sidedness that may develop within the limits of each main group. -When observation, reflection, the sense of beauty, sympathy, public -spirit, and religious aspiration have once been awakened, although -perhaps only within a small range of objects, the farther extension -over a greater number and variety of objects must be left largely to -the individual and to opportunity. To pupils of talent, above all -of genius, instruction may give the necessary outlook by enabling -them to see what talent and genius achieve elsewhere; but their own -distinguishing traits they must themselves answer for and retain. - -Moreover, the above-mentioned forms of one-sidedness are not all -equally detrimental, because they do not assert themselves with the -same degree of exclusiveness. Each may, indeed, lead to self-conceit; -but this tendency does not attach to all in the same measure. - - Holding to the idea of many-sided interest, what justification is - there for elective studies? To this, the reply must be made that in - elementary and in a part of secondary education the principle of - indiscriminate election must be rejected. The only rational election - in secondary education, as already explained (65), is election among - the various members of a group of similar studies. In this way - the destination and ability of the pupil may be regarded, without - sacrificing the needed many-sidedness. The case is different in - higher education, however, for election and many-sidedness are here - quite reconcilable. Higher education is the _comparative study_ of - a few branches. Thus, for example, on the social side, the whole - civilization of Greece is focussed now in her political history, - now in her art, now in her language, now in her education, now in - her philosophy. The student who studies any one of these subjects - thoroughly gets a comparative view of the whole of Greek life. It is - not necessary for him to study them all. The same is true of each - important country or epoch. Every culture study is an eminence from - which the whole is seen. - - Likewise in science, to study a typical form of life exhaustively by - the comparative method gives one an insight into all related life, as - well as many glimpses into physical and chemical science. In a large - sense, therefore, we study all nature, whether we elect biology, - physics, or chemistry, provided we use the comparative method of - higher education. In the college or university, therefore, a large - amount of election is justifiable. That would be a one-sided course - which neglected entirely all social or all science studies. - -90. Under favorable circumstances of time and opportunity, such as -obtain in classical and other high schools, effort, as we know, is -not restricted to the initial stimulation. Hence the question arises: -In what sequence shall the aroused interests be further developed? Of -instruction-material there is no lack; we must select and arrange, -guided in the main by what was said on the conditions of many-sidedness -and of interest. Thus to recapitulate: there must be progress from the -simple to the more complex, and solicitous endeavor to make spontaneous -interest possible. But in applying these principles we must not shut -our eyes to the particular requirements and the difficulties in our way. - -91. The empirical material of languages, history, geography, etc., -calls for specific complications and series of ideas, together with -the network of their interrelations. As to language, even words are -complex wholes, made up of stems plus whatever elements enter into -inflection and derivation, and further resolvable into single speech -sounds. History has its time-series, geography its network of spatial -relations. The psychological laws of reproduction determine the -processes of memorizing and of retaining. - -The mother-tongue serves as a medium through which foreign languages -become intelligible, but at the same time offers resistance to the -foreign sounds and constructions. Furthermore, it takes a young boy -a long time to get familiar with the thought that far away in time -and in space there have been and are human beings who spoke and -speak languages other than his own, and about whom he need concern -himself at all. Teachers, moreover, very commonly proceed on the -fallacious and very mischievous assumption that, because their mode of -expression is clear, it will, of course, be understood by the pupil. -The resources of child-language increase but slowly. Such impediments -as these must be removed. Geography extends the knowledge of spatial -distances, but the inhabitant of a flat country lacks the sense-images -of mountain ranges; one who grows up in a valley is without the -sense-perception of a plain; the majority of pupils lack the concrete -idea of an ocean. That the earth is a sphere revolving about its own -axis and about the sun, for a long time sounds to children more like -a fairy-tale than like a statement of fact; and even educated young -men sometimes hesitate to accept the theory of the planetary system -because they are unable to comprehend how it is possible to know such -things. Difficulties of this kind must be met and not massed together -unnecessarily.--For history, old ruins might serve as starting-points -if only the material they furnish do not prove altogether too scanty -and is not too recent, when the object is to take pupils at an early -age into the times and places of Jewish, Greek, and Roman antiquity. -Here the only satisfactory helps are stories that excite a very lively -interest; these establish points of support for the realization in -thought of a time long vanished. There is still lacking, however, a -correct estimate of chronological distances down to our own time. This -is attained only very gradually through the insertion of intermediate -data. - -92. Material for the exercise of reflection, and so for the excitation -of speculative interest, is supplied by whatever in nature, in human -affairs, in the structure of languages, and in religion, permits us -to discover, or even merely to surmise, a connection according to -general laws. But everywhere--the most common school studies, such as -elementary arithmetic and grammar not excepted--the pupil encounters -concepts, judgments, and inferences. But he clings to the particular, -to the familiar, to the sensuous. The abstract is foreign to his mind; -even the geometrical figures traced for the eye are to him particular -things whose general significance he finds it hard to grasp. The -general is to displace individual peculiarities in his thoughts; but -in his habitual thought-series the well-known concrete crowds to the -front. Of the general there remains in his mind almost nothing beyond -the words used to designate it. Called upon to draw an inference, he -loses one premise while pondering the next; the teacher is obliged to -go back to the beginning again and again, to give examples, and from -them lead up to generalizations; to separate and to connect concepts, -and by degrees to bring the propositions closer to one another. When -the middle terms and extremes have been successfully fused in the -premises, they are still only loosely connected at first. The same -propositions are repeatedly forgotten, and yet must not be reviewed too -many times for fear of killing instead of quickening interest. - -Since forgetting cannot be prevented, it is wise to abandon for a time -a large portion of that into which pupils have gained an insight, -but later on to go back to the essentials by other paths. The first -preliminary exercises serve their purpose if the particulars are -made to reveal the general before generalizations become the material -for technical propositions, and before propositions are combined into -inference-series. The processes of association (69) must not be omitted -between the first pointing out of common features and the systematic -teaching of their rational connections. - -93. Æsthetic contemplation may, indeed, receive its impulse from many -interests other than the æsthetic, as also from aroused emotions. Art -itself, however, is possible only in a state of mind sufficiently -tranquil to permit an accurate and coherent apprehension of the -simultaneously beautiful, and to experience the mental activity -corresponding to the successively beautiful. Æsthetic objects adapted -to the pupil's power of appreciation must be provided; but the teacher -should refrain from forcing contemplation. He may, of course, repress -unseemly manifestations, above all the damaging of objects possessing -æsthetic value and entitled to respectful treatment. Frequently -imitative attempts--although very crude at first--in drawing, singing, -reading aloud, and, at a later period, in translating, are indications -of æsthetic attention. Such efforts may be encouraged, but should not -be praised. The genuine warmth of emotion, which in æsthetic culture -kindles of itself, is easily vitiated by intensifying artifices. Excess -of quantity is injurious. Works of art appealing to a higher state of -culture must not be brought down to a lower plane. Art judgments and -criticisms should not be obtruded. - -94. The sympathetic interests depend still more on social intercourse -and family life than the foregoing classes of interests do on -experience in the world of sense. If the social environment changes -frequently, children cannot become deeply attached anywhere. The mere -change of teachers and of schools is fraught with harm. Pupils make -comparisons in their own way; authority that is not permanent has -little weight with them, whereas the impulse to throw off restraint -gains in strength. Instruction is powerless to obviate such evils, -especially since instruction itself must often change its form, -thereby giving the impression of a real difference in teachers. This -fact makes it all the more necessary that the instruction in history -impart to pupils the glow of sympathy due to historical characters and -events. For this reason--a reason of momentous significance to the -whole process of education--history should not be made to present to -pupils the appearance of a chronological skeleton. This rule should be -observed with special care during the earlier lessons in history, since -on these depends largely what sort of impression the whole subject will -produce at a future time. - -Of religious instruction, needless to say, we demand that it shall -bring home to pupils the dependent condition of man, and we confidently -expect that it will not leave their hearts cold. But historical -instruction must coöperate with religious instruction, otherwise the -truths of religion stand isolated, and there is ground for fearing -that they will fail to enter as potent factors into the teaching and -learning of the remaining subjects. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -=The Material of Instruction from Different Points of View= - - -95. Differences in point of view give rise to conflicting opinions -concerning not only the treatment, but also the choice of -subject-matter for instruction. If, now, first one opinion then another -wins predominance over the rest, the harmony of the purposes underlying -both learning and teaching is wanting. Not only that, but the pupils -suffer also directly through the lack of consistency where work is -begun on one plan and continued on another. - -96. The teacher in charge of a given branch of study only too often -lays out his work without taking account of pedagogical considerations. -His specialty, he thinks, suffices to suggest a plan; the successive -steps in its organized content will, of course, be the proper sequence -for instruction to follow. In teaching a language, he insists that -pupils must master declensions and conjunctions in order that he -may read an author with them later. He expects them to understand -ordinary prose before he passes on to elucidate the finished style -of a poet, etc. In mathematics, he demands that pupils bring to the -subject perfect facility in common arithmetic; at a more advanced -stage they must be able to handle logarithms with ease before formulæ -requiring their use are reached, etc. In history, the first thing for -him to do is to erect a solid chronological framework to hold the -historical facts to be inserted afterward. For ancient history, he -presupposes a knowledge of ancient geography, etc. This same view which -derives the principle determining the sequence of studies from the -instruction-material itself, as though it had been unconditionally and -finally settled that such and such things _must_ be taught, asserts -itself on a larger scale in requirements for admission to higher -grades or schools. Children are to be able to read, write, and cipher -well before being allowed to enter the grammar school; promotions to -higher grades are to take place only when the goal set for the grade -immediately preceding has been reached. The good pupil, accordingly, -is one who fits into and willingly submits to these arrangements. The -natural consequence of all this is, that little heed is paid to the -condition of attention, namely, the gradual progress of interest. - -97. But still another consequence ensues, occasioning a different -point of view. Pupils are commiserated on the ground that they are -overburdened. All sorts of doubts spring up as to the wisdom of -teaching the branches causing the trouble. Their future utility is -called in question. A host of instances is adduced of adults neglecting -and forgetting--forgetting without appreciable loss--that which it cost -them so much toil to learn. Of course, examples showing the opposite -to be true may also be cited, but that does not settle the question. -It cannot be denied that there are many, even among the educated, who -aspire to nothing higher than freedom from care by means of a lucrative -calling, or a life of social enjoyment, and who, accordingly, estimate -the value of their knowledge by this standard. Such a state of things -is not mended by a kind of instruction that awakens little interest, -and that in after years constitutes the dark side of reminiscences -connected with early youth. - -98. What is urged in reply is, generally speaking, true: youth must be -kept busy; we cannot let children grow up wild. And their occupation -has to be serious and severe, for government (45-55) must not be weak. -But now, more than ever, doubt fastens on the choice of studies. Might -not more useful things be offered for employment? - -If, by way of rejoinder, the ancient languages are commended as being -preëminently suited to give pupils diversity of work, this fact is -accounted for by the faulty methods pursued in teaching the other -subjects. With the proper method the same many-sided activity would -be called forth. For the modern languages especially, the claim is -made that they, too, are language studies involving reading, writing, -translating, and training in the forms of thought. To this argument -the unfortunate answer should not be returned, that the classical high -schools must retain their Latin and Greek because they are educating -future officials to whom the ancient languages are just as useful, nay, -indispensable, as the modern languages to other classes. For, if the -classical studies have once been degraded to the level of the useful -and necessary, the door is thrown open to those who go a step farther -still and demand to know of what use Hebrew is to the country parson, -and Greek to the practising jurist or physician. - -99. Controversies like these have often been conducted as if the -_humaniora_ or humanistic studies were radically opposed to the -_realia_ and could not admit them to partnership. In reality, the -latter are at least as much a legitimate part of a complete education -as the former. The whole matter has been made worse by the practice -of some of the older generation of teachers who, in order to make the -prescribed studies more palatable, descended to all kinds of amusement -and play, instead of laying stress on abiding and growing interest. A -view that regards the end as a necessary evil to be rendered endurable -by means of sweetmeats, implies an utter confusion of ideas; and if -pupils are not given serious tasks to perform, they will not find out -what they are able to do. - -We must, however, note in this connection that there are legitimate -occasions even for the sweetening of study, just as in medicine there -is a place for palliatives, notwithstanding the firm conviction -of the physician that remedies promising a radical cure deserve -the preference. Harmful and reprehensible as habitual playing with -a subject is when it usurps the place of serious and thorough -instruction, in cases where a task is not difficult, but seems so to -the pupil, it often becomes necessary to start him by a dexterous, -cheerful, almost playlike presentation of that which he is to imitate. -Superfluous prolixity and clumsiness, through the ennui alone that -they produce, cause failure in the easiest things. All this applies -especially to the teaching of younger children and to the first lessons -in a new subject, _e.g._, learning to read Greek, the beginning of -algebra, etc. - -100. If, among the conflicting opinions referred to, there is any -vital point of controversy, it lies in the _a priori_ assumption that -certain subjects must be taught (96). Such an assumption educative -instruction cannot allow to be severed from the end aimed at: the -intellectual self-activity of the pupil. This, and not mere knowledge, -any more than utility, determines the point of view with regard to -the instruction-material. Experience and social intercourse are the -primary sources of the pupil's ideas. It is with reference to these two -factors that we estimate strength or weakness in the ideas, and decide -what instruction may accomplish with comparative ease or difficulty, -at an earlier or at a later period. Good child literature turns to -these sources even while children are only just learning to read, and -gradually enlarges their range of thoughts. Not until this has been -done can the question of instruction in one or the other department of -knowledge claim consideration. - - The term _educative instruction_ frequently occurs. It means, - primarily, instruction that has, in the broad sense, an ethical - bearing, or an influence upon character. It is based on the idea - that, not school discipline alone, but also school instruction in - the common branches should be of service to the child in moral and - especially in social growth. The studies help to reveal to him his - place and function in the world, they form his disposition toward men - and things, they give him insight into ethical relations. Instruction - that contains this element of moral training is therefore called - _educative instruction_ (_Erziehender Unterricht_). - -101. The _realia_--natural history, geography, history--possess this -one unquestionable advantage, viz., easy association with experience -and intercourse. Partially, at least, the pupil's spontaneous -ideas (71) may go out toward them. Properly used, collections of -plants, picture-books, maps, will contribute their share. In history, -the fondness of youth for stories is utilized. The fact that these -stories are partly taken from old books written in foreign languages, -and that these languages were once actually spoken, has often to be -mentioned in passing, before the study of these languages themselves is -taken up, nay, even after they have been begun. - -It is useless to undertake a demonstration of the utility of the -_realia_. The young do not act for the sake of the more remote -ends. Pupils work when they feel they can do something; and this -consciousness of power to do must be created. - - The remark that it is useless to undertake to demonstrate to the - young the ultimate utility of natural science studies leads naturally - to a distinction between interest in the studies as ultimate ends - and as immediate ends. It is suggested in this paragraph that pupils - are interested in showing their capacity to accomplish results. - It is very evident that one of the teacher's chief anxieties must - be to awaken an interest in the studies as ends, not perhaps in - their final utility in life, but as fields in which useful work - can be done even in the immediate present. The chief category by - which to measure the pupil's interest in the various activities - of the schoolroom is the quality of work that he can be taught to - accomplish. One need not go far to learn that children like those - studies best in which they can do the best work. This is true in - several respects. They are interested in the artistic perfection - of what they can accomplish, as in drawing, painting, writing, the - arrangement of arithmetical problems, so that the page presents a - neat appearance, and so that all the processes are plainly revealed - to the eye. They are interested in reading when they can call the - words with facility, with neatness, without stumbling, mispronouncing - or miscalling--when the tones of the voice are agreeable. The quality - of the work, however, which appeals perhaps most powerfully to the - children, is that of intellectual comprehension. In the reading class - it is a constant delight to discover the finer shades of meaning, to - express them with the voice, to detect in others any deviation from - the true thought. Reading in English is particularly susceptible - to this kind of treatment. For the English language being largely - devoid of inflections does not show through the form of the words - the finer distinctions of thought, but the mind must perceive these - from a text largely devoid of grammatical inflections. It is quite - possible, therefore, to read in such a manner as to miss all but the - most salient points of the matter presented. There is in reading an - intensive and an extensive magnitude. Our older method of teaching - reading was to devote the time to a few extracts from literary - masterpieces, which were exhausted by minute study. The more recent - tendency in elementary education is to neglect this side of reading - and to devote the time to the cursory reading, not of extracts, but - of whole masterpieces of literature. The danger of such a proceeding - is that the finer qualities of reading will be neglected for the - sake of quantitative mastery of a large amount of reading matter. A - middle course between the two would doubtless bring better results. - It would, on the one hand, secure an interest that attaches to - masterpieces as wholes, and, on the other, the literary appreciation - that comes from minute analysis both in thought and expression of the - finer distinctions of thought. In mathematical studies, the æsthetic - interest of form, or the active interest of actual performance of - problems, is not the sole or even the chief interest that should - be appealed to. But the pupil should feel that he is making a - progressive mastery of the principles of number. It is a pleasure to - apply a rule, to solve a problem neatly; but it is a still greater - pleasure to comprehend thoroughly the meaning of the rule, to grasp - and to feel its universality, so that although it is not worth while, - as Herbart suggests, to urge the ultimate function of mathematics - in the life of the world, it is quite worth while to set up those - immediate ends of interest such as appear in the activity of solving - problems, in the æsthetic appearance of the work upon paper or board - or slate, and in the comprehension of mathematical principles. These - ends are near at hand; they can be made to appeal to the pupil - through the quality of the work that the teacher demands of him. - The same is true in the natural sciences. Even though the ultimate - function of biology is an idea too remote or too complex for the - child to grasp with enthusiasm, the immediate mastery of a principle - in physics, or the discovery of a law of plant life, or of a fact in - chemistry, may be an end in which the pupil's most intense interest - can be excited. - -102. Geometry has other advantages of association, advantages we have -begun only recently to turn to account in earnest. Figures made of -wood or pasteboard, drawings, pegs, bars, flexible wires, strings, the -use of the ruler, of compasses, of the square, counted coins arranged -in long or short, in parallel or diverging series,--all these may be -offered to the eye _ad libitum_ and connected with other concrete -objects. They may be made the basis of systematic employment and -exercises, and this will be done more and more when the fact is once -grasped that concrete ideas possessing the _proper degree of strength_ -constitute the surest foundation of a branch of instruction whose -success depends on the manner in which the pupil forms in his mind the -ideas of spatial relations. This is not grasped, of course, by those -who regard space once for all as a form of sense-perception common -to all minds alike. A careful study of the data of experience will -convince the practical educator that the opposite is true; for in this -respect individual differences are very marked. Pupils rarely hit upon -geometrical constructions unaided; the aptitude for drawing, that is, -for imitating the objects seen, is met with more often. - -It is easy by abstraction to form arithmetical concepts out of the -apprehension of geometrical relations. To do so should not be regarded -as superfluous, not even when the pupil has already fully entered upon -his work in arithmetic. - -103. To Germans the two ancient classical languages do not offer the -advantages of easy transition. On the other hand, the study of Latin, -even if only moderately advanced, prepares the soil for the most -indispensable modern foreign languages. Herein lies an argument against -beginning with French, as was often done formerly. The linking of -Latin to French will, moreover, hardly win the approval of students of -languages, since, not to mention other reasons, Gallicisms are a source -of no little danger to Latinity. - -The ancient languages require long-continued labor. This fact alone -renders it advisable to begin them early. The strangeness of Latin for -Germans should not lead to the conclusion that the study of Latin -should be commenced late, but rather that during the earlier years of -boyhood it should be carried on slowly. The sounds of foreign languages -must be heard early, in order that the strangeness may wear off. Single -Latin words will be easily mastered even by a child. These may soon -be followed by short sentences consisting of two or three words. No -matter if they are forgotten again for a time. That which is said to -be forgotten is not on that account lost. The real difficulty lies in -the multitude of strange elements that accumulate in relatively long -sentences; it lies also in the many ways of connecting subordinate -clauses, in the qualifying insertions, in the order of words, and in -the structure of the period. Furthermore, we must not overlook the fact -that children are very slow to acquire the use of dependent clauses, -even in German; their speech for a long time consists merely of a -stringing together of the simplest sentences. The attempt to advance -them more rapidly in the syntactical forms of Latin than is possible in -their mother-tongue is a waste of time; and, besides, their inclination -to study is put to a very severe test. - - Perhaps the most serious defect of secondary education in the United - States is its brevity. Languages are not begun until the pupil is - well on to fifteen years old. A reform most urgently needed in this - country is the extension of high school influence to the two grades - of the grammar school lying immediately below the high school. This - would enable pupils to begin foreign languages at about the age of - twelve, or two years later than they are now begun in Germany. - -104. The foregoing remarks show plainly enough that in educative -instruction some subjects will be found a comparatively easy and sure -means of awakening intellectual activity, while others involve a more -strenuous effort, which, under certain circumstances, may end in -failure. The concrete studies are nearest to the pupil; mathematics -requires some apparatus to render it tangible and vivid; to get pupils -started properly in modern languages can be but a slow process. But -this difference is, after all, not fundamental enough, nor does it -affect the whole course of instruction sufficiently, to constitute a -serious pedagogical objection to the study of foreign languages, so -long as there is time to teach them. Their fruits mature later. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -=The Process of Instruction= - - -105. Whether or not instruction will begin well and go on properly -depends on a combination of three factors,--the teacher, the pupil, -and the subject taught. Failure of the subject-matter to excite the -pupil's interest is followed by evil consequences moving in a circle. -The pupil seeks to avoid the task set for him; he remains silent -or returns wrong answers; the teacher insists on getting a correct -answer; the lesson is at a standstill; the pupil's dislike grows more -intense. To conquer dislike and indolence, the teacher now refuses -altogether the assistance he could give; as best he may, he compels -the pupil to collect his thoughts, to work by himself, to prepare his -lesson, to memorize, even to apply in written exercises what he knows -but imperfectly, etc. The presentation proper has come to an end; at -all events it has ceased to be consecutive. Now the right kind of an -example is wanting, which the teacher should set--one of reading, -thinking, writing, that implies complete absorption in the subject. -And yet it is this example concretely illustrating how to take hold of -the subject, how to present it, and how to associate it with related -subjects, which effects the best results in good instruction. The -teacher must set such an example, the pupil must imitate it as well as -he can; the teacher must render him active assistance. - -106. Instruction is either synthetic or analytic. In general, the term -_synthetic_ may be applied wherever the teacher himself determines -directly the sequence and grouping of the parts of the lesson; the term -_analytic_, wherever the pupil's own thoughts are expressed first, and -these thoughts, such as they chance to be, are then, with the teacher's -help, analyzed, corrected, and supplemented. But there are many things -under this head that need to be defined and discriminated more sharply. -There are analyses of experience, of facts learned in school, and of -opinions. There is one kind of synthesis which imitates experience; -there is another kind which consists in constructing designedly a whole -whose component parts have been presented one by one previously. - -Here, again, many differences arise, owing to diversities inherent in -the subject-matter. - -107. Since instruction builds on the pupil's experience, we shall deal -first with that form of synthesis which imitates, or copies experience. -We may name it _purely presentative instruction_. The term _synthetic_, -on the other hand, will henceforth be reserved for that form of -instruction which reveals clearly the process of building up a whole -out of parts presented singly beforehand. - -The purely presentative method of instruction, although practicable -only to a limited extent, is nevertheless so effectual as to entitle it -to separate treatment, so effectual that the teacher--and this is the -main thing--will do well to train himself carefully in its use. Skill -in this direction is the surest means of securing interest. - -It is customary to demand that the pupil acquire facility in narration -and description, but we ought not to forget that here above all the -teacher must lead the way by setting a good example. To be sure, there -is an abundance of printed narrative and description, but reading does -not produce the effect that hearing does. _Viva vox docet._ As a rule, -we cannot take for granted that a boy has even the skill and patience -required for reading; and if perfect facility has been attained, the -reading is done too rapidly. There is too much hurry to get to the -end, or too much delay over the wrong passages, so that the connection -is lost. At the most, we may let the pupils that read exceptionally -well read aloud to the class. By far the surer means to the end in -view is the oral presentation by the teacher. But in order that such -presentation may produce its effect undisturbed, it needs to be -perfectly free and untrammelled. - -108. The first requisite for free oral presentation is a cultivated -style of speaking. Many teachers need to be warned against the use -of set phrases, against mere expletives, faulty enunciation, pauses -filled in with inarticulate sounds, against fragments of sentences, -clumsy parentheses, etc. - -In the second place, adaptation of the vocabulary employed, both to the -subject-matter and to the intelligence of the pupils, and adjustment of -phraseology to the pupil's stage of culture are essential. - -Lastly, careful memorizing. At first this should be done almost -verbatim. At all events, the teacher must prepare his lesson as though -he had his pupils before him and were talking to them. Later on he -must memorize at least the facts and turning-points of the subject to -be presented, in order that he may not be compelled to consult books -or look at notes. A few remarks on some particular points will be made -farther on. - -109. The effect of the teacher's narrative and description should be to -make the pupil realize events and objects as vividly as if they were -actually present to his eye and ear. The pupil must, therefore, have -actually heard and seen much previously. This recalls to our minds the -necessity, pointed out before, of first enlarging the young pupil's -range of experience, when found too limited, through excursions and -the exhibition of objects. Again, this form of instruction is adapted -only to things that might be heard or seen. We must therefore avail -ourselves of all the help pictures can give. - -If the presentation has been a success, the reproduction by the pupils -will show that they recall, not merely the main facts, but largely even -the teacher's language. They have retained more exactly than they have -been asked to do. Besides, the teacher who narrates and describes well -gains a strong hold on the affections of his pupils; he will find them -more obedient in matters pertaining to discipline. - - The foregoing paragraphs on presentative instruction may seem strange - to the American teacher. We must remember, however, that they were - written before the modern era of text-books, when, in point of fact, - the teacher was practically the sole reliance for the facts that the - children were to learn. It is the custom, even to the present, in - the lower schools of Germany, to rely very largely upon the teacher - for the information which the children are to acquire. In American - schools, this method is not followed, for so enormous has been the - development of text-book industry, that in every field of education - the richest material is offered to the schools in the form of - text-books. There is, however, still a legitimate field for purely - presentative instruction in the earlier grades of the elementary - school, especially in literature and in the beginnings of history. - The most primitive method of instruction, as we see clearly in the - earlier periods of Grecian education, was the narrative. The children - of those days received their instruction in history, mythology, - literature, geography, by listening to the tales of heroes and - heroic deeds narrated by their parents, by wandering minstrels and - rhapsodists. To this day, the teacher who can narrate biographical - or literary matter in an attractive manner is sure to awaken intense - interest in the children under her control. Perhaps one facility - which the modern teacher needs to acquire more than any other is - the capacity of happy, vivacious, interesting narrative cast, at - the same time, into simple yet excellent literary form. Such a - teacher is an undoubted treasure in the primary school. There is - occasion, moreover, in nearly all school study for the presentation - of supplementary material in almost every school study. This is true - especially in literature and history. It is also true in geography - and in mathematics, as where, for instance, the teacher narrates the - methods of the ancient Egyptians in the development of geometrical - ideas, or those of the Greeks. If one is teaching a foreign language, - one may always find happy opportunities for introducing bits of - history, biography, or other illuminating material. In the sciences - nothing is more interesting to children, more stimulative of renewed - effort, than narratives concerning our great scientists, their desire - for education, their struggle to attain knowledge, their misfortunes, - and their triumphs. Every aspect of instruction may be supplemented - and illumined by instruction given in the purely presentative form of - narration. - -110. While skilful presentation produces results akin to an extension -of the pupil's range of actual experience, analysis helps to make -experience more instructive. For, left to itself, experience is not a -teacher whose instruction is systematic. It does not obey the law of -actual progress from the simple to the complex. Things and events crowd -in upon the mind in masses; the result is often chaotic apprehension. -Inasmuch, then, as experience presents aggregates before it gives the -component particulars, it becomes the task of instruction to reverse -this order and to adjust the facts of experience to the sequence -demanded in teaching. Experience, it is true, associates its content; -but if this earlier association is to have the share in the work of the -school that it should have, that which has been experienced and that -which has been learned must be made to harmonize. With this end in view -we need to supplement experience. The facts it has furnished have to -be made clearer and more definite than they are, and must be given an -appropriate embodiment in language. - -111. Let us consider first the earliest stage of analytic instruction. -In order to understand the significance of this method of teaching, we -must examine the nature of a child's experience. Children are indeed -in the habit of familiarizing themselves with their surroundings; but -the strongest impressions predominate. Objects in motion have greater -attraction for them than objects at rest. They tear up and destroy -without troubling themselves much about the real connection between -the parts of a whole. In spite of their many why's and what for's, -they make use of every tool or utensil without regard for its purpose; -they are satisfied if it serves the impulse of the moment. Their eyes -are keen, but they rarely observe; the real character of things does -not deter them from making a plaything of everything, as their fancy -may direct, and from making one thing stand for every other thing. -They receive total impressions of similar objects, but do not derive -concepts; the abstract does not enter their minds of itself. - -These and similar observations, however, apply by no means equally to -every child. On the contrary, children differ greatly from one another; -and, with the child's individuality, his one-sidedness already begins. - -112. It follows at once that the first thing to be done, in a school -where many children are to be taught together, is to make the children -more alike in their knowledge. To this end the store of experiences -which they bring with them must be worked over. But the homogeneity of -pupils, desirable as it is, is not the sole aim. We must take care also -that the whole of instruction acts upon the particular stock of ideas -of each pupil taken individually. We must seek those points of contact -and departure to which attention has repeatedly been called above, and -hence cannot leave the pupil's mass of ideas in its original crude -state. Thoughtful teachers have long since testified to the necessity -of this requirement, which mere scholars in their zeal for learning -fail again and again to appreciate. - -Niemeyer, in his widely read work, opens his treatment of the -particular laws of instruction with a chapter entitled: "The First -Steps in awakening Attention and Reflection through Instruction, -or Exercises in Thinking." These exercises are no other than the -elementary processes of analytic instruction. He says: "When the age, -the health, and the strength of children have made instruction proper -seem expedient, the first lesson should be one of the kind described -in the chapter heading. Such exercises might be profitably continued -in some form or other until the ninth or tenth year, and probably even -later. The fact that it is not easy to describe them in a word very -likely explains why we fail to find them in most programmes of private -and public schools. That at last some attention is being given even -in the common schools to this matter is one of the venerable Canon -Rochow's imperishable services to education." - -Pestalozzi, in his book for mothers, strikes out in the same direction. -It will not serve the purpose, to be sure, to confine oneself, as he -does, to a single object; still, the kind of exercises is indicated -very definitely by him; indeed, more definitely, in some ways, than by -Niemeyer. - -113. The notions of pupils about surrounding objects, that is, notions -in which the strongest impressions predominate (111), must be made to -approach uniformity first. This is accomplished by uniform reproduction. - -On this point Niemeyer says, "The teacher should begin by talking with -his pupils about those objects which are, at the time, affecting their -senses directly. Pointing to these objects, he asks the pupils to name -them. He then passes on to things that are not present, but that the -children have seen or felt before. At the same time he exercises their -powers of imagination and expression by making them enumerate what they -are able to recall. Suitable material: everything in the schoolroom; -the human body; everything pertaining to food, dress, comfort; things -found in the fields, in the garden, in the yard; animals and plants so -far as they are known by the children." - -114. The next step consists in pointing out the main facts of a given -whole, the relative position of these parts, their connection, and -their movability, if they can be moved without damage. To this are -properly linked the simplest facts concerning the uses of things. At -the same time children are taught how they must _not_ use things, and -how, instead of ruining them, they ought to look after them and use -them with care. The abundance and number of things, their size, form, -and weight, should likewise be referred to as early as this stage, and -should furnish occasion for comparisons. - -But something more is needed to give distinctness to the ideas of -pupils, and to prepare the way for future abstract thinking. Beginning -first with the objects, we derive from them the predicates by searching -out the attributes; this done, we must in turn make the predicates -our starting-point, and classify the objects under the heads thus -obtained. This distinction has been made before by Pestalozzi; it is -one of fundamental importance in the preparation for generalization. -While engaged in such work pupils will of themselves learn to compare, -to discriminate, and, in some instances, to observe more accurately: -erroneous notions due to an active imagination will be corrected by the -appeal to experience as the source of knowledge. - -115. Of what remains to be done, the most important task consists in -securing a comprehensive view of a somewhat extended time-series, of -which objects, together with their natural or artificial origins, -are members. An elementary knowledge will thus be gained, especially -of the simplest facts about manufacturing processes, and about -intercourse among human beings, which facts will serve subsequently as -the groundwork for instruction in natural history and geography. But -for history also the way must be prepared by referring, although only -in the most general way, to times when the utensils and tools of the -present had not yet been invented, when the arts of to-day were as yet -unknown, and when people were still without those materials that are -now imported from foreign countries. - -116. It does not follow, because no definite periods are set apart -for the instruction described, that it is not being given at all. We -may find it incorporated, to a large extent, with something else, -particularly with the interpretation of elementary reading matter, -which forms part of the first work in the mother-tongue. Nevertheless, -a subject that is taught only incidentally is always liable to suffer, -if not from indifference, at least from inadequate treatment. - -On the other hand, we cannot fail to recognize that the appointment -of separate periods for analytic instruction may prove difficult, -owing to the fact that the rate of progress depends so largely on -the stock of ideas pupils bring with them, and on their readiness to -utter what they think and feel. Besides, while Niemeyer expressly -says, "Children taught in this manner know nothing of tedium," he also -hastens to add, "but it is easy to spoil them by too rapid changes -of subject." The same, or similar bad consequences, may result from -other school exercises where the teacher himself supplies a profusion -of instruction-material, and so relieves his pupils of the trouble of -gathering such material from their own recollections. On the whole, -therefore, it will be well enough to set apart but few hours, or weeks, -for the first attempts; and these can be made a part of the lessons in -the mother-tongue. - -In private instruction the difficulty spoken of is not encountered. -Besides, the ample opportunities afforded for observing the pupil's -store of ideas make it easy to devise a suitable plan for the earliest -analytic teaching. - - In the foregoing paragraphs on analytical instruction, the question - naturally arises, "Is such instruction to be regarded as an end - in itself, or as a means for preparing the mind for more perfect - assimilation of the subject-matter to be presented from day to day in - the various studies?" Since the time these paragraphs were written, - not only Germany herself, but also America has gone through a varied - experience with respect to what we call object teaching. It was at - one time conceived that a specific hour should be set apart each day - for instructing the children in the observation of objects. In other - words, object lessons were a distinct part of the programme. It was - supposed that in this way the children could be made conscious of the - significance of their environment, and that it was highly desirable - that such an end should be brought about. In Germany the same effort - was undertaken under the name of _Anschauungsunterricht_, but since - the multiplication of text-books, and the increased pressure upon - the schools brought about through the introduction of new subjects - of study, it has been found inadvisable to devote a specific period - of the day to isolated analytic instruction upon objects. Such - instruction, however, has by no means passed from the field of - usefulness, even in our very best schools. The necessity of appealing - powerfully to previous experience, in and out of the schoolroom, as a - basis for understanding a matter presented in the daily lessons, is - everywhere recognized. From being an end of school work, therefore, - analytic instruction has passed to the realm of a useful means for - arousing the mental activity of the children concerning the regular - lessons of the schoolroom. It is, in modern terms, an apperceptive - basis for all instruction. - -117. At a later time analytic instruction reappears in other forms, -those of review and the correction of written exercises. The teacher -has presented a body of facts; he has furnished the helps necessary for -the solution of certain problems. What he has given, the pupils are -expected to produce again in their review exercises and essays. Where -necessary, their work is analyzed and corrected. - -In conducting reviews a pedagogical blunder is apt to be made--a -blunder that brings on the evils specified in a former paragraph (105); -review is confounded with examination. The two are radically different. -If the teacher could be sure of both perfect attention and full -comprehension, he himself would go over the ground covered by his first -talk once more for the purpose of assisting the memory; the pupils -would not be called upon to take part. In this case, we should have -neither analytic instruction nor anything resembling an examination. -As a matter of fact, however, pupils are usually asked to reproduce -what and as much as they remember. This is easily taken to mean that -they should have retained everything, which, strictly speaking, is -not expected even in an examination. The purpose of an examination is -to ascertain the actual state of knowledge, whatever it may prove to -be; reviews are conducted for the purpose of increasing and deepening -knowledge. If an examination is followed by praise or censure, well and -good; a review has nothing to do with either. - -Since reviewing and drilling, which resembles the former, claim the -larger portion of the time devoted to school work, it will be worth -while to examine the subject somewhat more closely. - -118. Repetition of several ideas intensifies those ideas. It does -more than that. If they are of opposed nature, the reciprocal arrest -that ensues resists their fusion less during the reproduction than -it did in the original act of apprehension. The fusion increases in -completeness, and, besides, becomes more uniform, _i.e._, the weaker -ideas hold their own better alongside of the stronger. Again, if a -series of successive ideas is repeated, the first members of the series -of themselves tend to reproduce those that follow before the latter are -repeated--a tendency gathering energy in proportion to the frequency of -repetition. This fact underlies the increase in rapidity which comes -with growing skill. Extraneous thoughts, however, very easily interrupt -the psychical process of reproduction. - -Let us assume that the teacher's presentation has been an adequate one -and has lasted no longer than the capacity of the pupils permitted, -only a few minutes, perhaps. He himself might now repeat; but asks -his pupils to do so, lest their thoughts begin to wander from the -subject in hand. He comes to their aid and repeats only when their own -attempts have failed. But very often they have retained some things and -forgotten others. In this case it becomes his business to reinforce -the ideas striving to rise into consciousness, but without disturbing -their movement. In other words, he should prompt neither more nor less, -should lend aid neither sooner nor later, than will serve to make the -pupil's train of thought coincide as nearly as possible with that of -the presentation properly given. Unless this is done, the reproduction -fails to effect the required association and facility. The same ground -is gone over again and again in vain; fatigue sets in, and the wrong -association takes place--a matter for grave apprehension. If the pupils -are in an unresponsive mood, the teacher must go slow, for the time -being; if interest is lacking, he cannot incite the proper movement of -ideas. If the teacher is not conducting the repetition with skill, the -fragmentary answers of the pupils indicate well enough after a time -that the desired current of thought has not been generated. - -119. We have taken it for granted that the presentation was an adequate -one--one that might serve as a model (105). Where this adjustment of -means and ends extends, as it may, even to the language, the latter -should be closely followed in the repetition, but without pedantic -insistence on unimportant details. But very frequently the essential -feature of the presentation is found in the sequence of thought. In -that case expression will vary, and the teacher is satisfied at first -if, in repeating, the pupils furnish evidence that they understand; he -allows them to use their own words, though less appropriate. He must, -still, however, look carefully after the given sequence, which the -repetition is to reproduce with the greatest possible coherence. - -120. The case is different when later on larger sections of a course -of successful instruction are to be repeated. During all the earlier -stage particular facts were moved far apart (68) for the sake of -clearness; by means of conversation, or of incidental mention in other -recitations, or through experience itself (110), provision was made -also for association of various kinds. Now it becomes the business of -repetition in the first place to gather together into a smaller compass -what has been expanded; next it subserves the purpose of systematic -arrangement, and lastly, is often of use for making the instruction -more complete and for adding the difficult to the comparatively easy. -Here the mode of presentation itself changes to meet the requirements -of a more advanced grade of work. But repetition immediately after -the presentation, or, perhaps, during the next hour, will, as a rule, -remain necessary even at this higher stage. - -121. Here, where compression and insertions are to modify the material -of instruction, we need to inquire into the forms of connection -peculiar to the objects, together with those essential for use, and to -determine accordingly the series and web of ideas to be formed in the -mind of the pupil. For such organization of ideas, repetition is, at -all events, far better adapted than presentation, which can traverse -only one of several series at a time, and which passes into repetition -the moment an effort is made to bring the other series forward also. -In natural history, for example, various classifications occur, in -history the ethnographic divisions are crossed by the synchronistic, -while the history of culture demands yet another basis of association; -in geography each noted city is to be a landmark, enabling the pupil -to take his bearings in every direction, but cities on rivers suggest -river basins and mountain ranges; in mathematics each theorem is to -be kept ready for separate application, but it has also its special -place in the chain of demonstrations; grammatical rules, too, should be -available when called for, but it is very necessary at the same time -that the pupil become perfectly at home in his grammar and know where -to look for information. - -The teacher who, by skilful repetition, does justice to these multiform -associations, is not always the one who shows most skill in systematic -presentation, and who knows best how to make prominent the main -thoughts, and to link to them those that are subordinate. - -122. The impulse to repeat must, as a rule, come from points with -which pupils are familiar. It is further requisite that the teacher, -in conducting the repetition, adapt himself to their train of thought; -he must not adhere strictly to an inflexible plan. The necessary -corrections require delay here and there; the corrected statements -often constitute new points from which to take bearings. At times -the pupils themselves should feel free to indicate which topics it -seems most necessary to repeat. By so doing they assume a certain -responsibility as to the rest, and are made to realize all the more -their obligation to make up deficiencies. - -123. The correction of written work likewise falls under the head of -analytic instruction, but the toil exceeds the profit if written work -is demanded too early. While writing the pupil consolidates his ideas. -Now if he does so incorrectly, the effect is mischievous, his mistakes -cling to him. Moreover, the teacher has to be on his guard lest, while -orally correcting and reading over the composition, he overestimate -the pupil's attention. When many slips occur, when a whole forest of -mistakes is found to have sprung up, the pupil becomes indifferent -to them all; they make humble, but they also dishearten. Such tasks -should, therefore, be very brief, if the pupil is weak; nay, it is -preferable to have none at all, as long as progress is being made more -surely by a different kind of exercises. - -The teacher who assigns home work with a view to saving labor in school -miscalculates utterly; his work will soon have become all the harder. - -To many it seems that the exercises they assign should be very -easy, rather than short; and to make them easy, outlines, turns of -expression, everything, is indicated as definitely as possible. This -is a delusion. If composition has any purpose, it consists in making -the pupil try to see what he can do without the teacher. Now if the -pupil actually gets started on the exercise, the teacher ought not to -step in his way with all sorts of prescriptions. If the pupil fails to -make headway, the attempt was premature. We must either wait or else -shorten the task, no matter if it should shrink to no more than three -lines. Three lines of the pupil's own work are better than three pages -written by direction. It may take years before the self-deception due -to leading-string methods is superseded by a true estimate of the -pupil's actual power. - -124. The case is quite different if, before writing, the pupil has been -assisted orally in developing his thoughts. This kind of analysis is of -special importance in later boyhood; but the teacher should see to it -that the pupil gives free expression to his own opinion. If he does, -a theme has been furnished for discussion during which the teacher -will avoid harsh dissent in proportion to his eagerness to accomplish -something with his pupil. To rebuke presuming boldness or impudence is -a different matter, of course. - -Self-chosen themes are preferable by far to those that are assigned, -only they cannot be expected of the majority of pupils. But when they -do turn up, the character of the choice alone, but still more the -execution, will throw light on the opinions current among the pupils, -and on the impressions which not only the school, but experience and -society as well, have been constantly at work to produce. The writer's -individuality reveals itself even more distinctly. Every teacher must -be prepared to come upon these individual traits, however much he -might prefer to have his pupils reflect himself. It would be futile if -he attempted to correct their essays by interpolating his own view; -he would not by that means make the latter their own. The mode of -treatment can be corrected; but other opportunities will have to serve -for the rectification of opinions--provided this can ever be undertaken -successfully. - -125. With regard to synthetic instruction, we assume at the outset -that it will be supported during the whole course of training by the -merely presentative and the analytic methods of teaching, wherever -these are in place. Otherwise the ultimate result will always remain -problematical, particularly the union of learning and life. - -Synthetic instruction brings in much that is new and strange; and -we must take advantage of the universal charm of novelty. It must -coöperate with acquired habits of application, and with the interest -peculiar to each subject taught. The affairs, not of Italy alone, but -also those of Greece and the Orient, have become a matter of everyday -discussion. There has been a general diffusion of knowledge about the -facts and laws of nature. Hence even younger children cannot help but -pick up many things now that will tend to forestall the indifference or -aversion with which school studies were regarded not longer than fifty -years ago. They seemed to be something foreign to life. At present, it -cannot prove difficult to turn curiosity in the direction of distant -lands, and of past ages even, especially where collections of rare -articles and antiquities are accessible. This stimulation would not -persist long, however, in the face of the labor of learning, if there -did not exist at the same time a widespread conviction of the necessity -of study, a conviction reinforced by the legal requirements of schools, -particularly of the gymnasia. Accordingly, families exert a good -influence with respect to the industry of children; and with the right -sort of government and training in school, willingness to learn is -easily secured. Less easy is it to incite a genuinely scientific desire -to know, one that will endure beyond examinations. This brings us back -to many-sidedness of interest (83-94). If interest were not already the -end of instruction, we should have to look upon it as the only means -whereby the results of teaching can be given permanence. - -Interest depends partly, it is true, on native capacity, which the -school cannot create; but it depends also on the subject-matter of -instruction. - -126. Synthetic instruction must offer subjects capable of arousing -lasting and spontaneously radiating interest. That which affords only -temporary pleasure or light entertainment is of too little consequence -to determine the plan of operation. Nor can the choice of such studies -be recommended as stand isolated, as do not lead to continued effort; -for, other reasons aside, we are unable to decide beforehand to -which of the main classes of interest (83-94) the individual pupil -will especially incline. The first place belongs rather to those -studies which appeal to the mind in a variety of ways and are capable -of stimulating each pupil according to his individuality. For such -subjects ample time must be allowed; they must be made the object -of prolonged, diligent effort. We may then hope that they will take -hold in some way, and we shall be in a position to know what kind of -interest they have inspired in one pupil or another. Where, on the -contrary, the end of the thread of work is soon reached, it remains -questionable whether any effort at all will be produced, let alone a -lasting impression. - -127. The subject-matter having been chosen, the treatment must be -adjusted to it in such a way as to bring it within reach of the pupils. -For the exercises growing out of such treatment, the well-known -rule holds in general: the easy before the difficult, or, more -specifically, that which prepares the way before that which cannot -be firmly grasped without preliminary knowledge. To insist, however, -on perfect mastery in this respect, is often equivalent to scaring -away interest. Absolute proficiency in preliminary knowledge is a -late achievement, nor is it attained without fatigue. The teacher has -to be satisfied if the mastery acquired is such that what is lacking -can, without serious delay, be added by him in practice. To make the -road so level as to do away entirely with the necessity for occasional -leaps (96), means to provide for the convenience of the teacher rather -than for that of the pupils. The young love to climb and jump; they -do not take kindly to an absolutely level path. But they are afraid -in the dark. There must be light enough for them to see by; in other -words, the subject must lie spread out before their eyes with such -distinctness that each step is seen to be a step forward, which brings -them perceptibly nearer to a distant goal. - -128. With regard to the sequence of studies we need to distinguish -first of all between preparatory knowledge and ability to do. As is -well known, the latter, even when it has been fully attained, can -be secured against loss only by long-continued practice. Hence the -practice of the pupil's skill must go on constantly from the time -when he first learns to apply what he knows. But merely preliminary -knowledge, which produced fatigue before it was mastered, may be -allowed to drop out of the memory. Enough remains to make it easier -to resume the subject at a later time (92, 103). Accordingly, not the -preliminary knowledge just referred to, but the pupil's facility in -doing, supplies the principle determining sequence. In the case of all -essential elementary information--knowledge of rudiments of grammar, -arithmetic, and geometry--it will be found expedient to begin with -the simplest elements long before any practical application is made. -In such first lessons individual facts only are presented. These are -made clear to the pupils (68, 69); here and there they are associated. -Fatigue is avoided if possible. Even if the earliest attempts at -memorizing should prove successful, it will be safer, instead of -relying on this fact, to postpone the whole matter for a time. At a -later period the same subject is resumed from the beginning without -any demand on the teacher's part that some things should have been -retained. This time, however, it will be possible to introduce a -somewhat larger quantity of the instruction-material, and it will not -be too early to make pupils perceive the connection between individual -facts. If pupils experience difficulty in comprehending, we should -be careful not to advance too rapidly; the greater the difficulty, -the greater the need for caution. When the time comes for practical -application, an earnest, diligent effort must be insisted on, but only -for tasks of moderate length, and without exacting too much by harsh -means. Not every pupil can do everything. Sometimes a pupil will at a -later period acquire the power he does not possess now, if only his -chances for success have not been spoiled by earlier blindness on the -part of his teacher. - -129. Again, corresponding to each stage of instruction, there is a -certain capacity for apperceiving attention (77) which deserves careful -consideration. For we ought to avail ourselves of the comparatively -easy in order to facilitate indirectly what would otherwise prove -difficult and time-consuming. - -We need to distinguish between insertion and continuation, and to -connect this distinction with the division of ideas into spontaneous -and induced (71). It is easier to fill in between familiar points than -it is to continue, because the continued series is in close contact -with the well known only at the starting-point. Easiest of all is -insertion between free-rising ideas, between those ideas that occur -to the pupil spontaneously, when he has been led into a certain field -of consciousness. Hardest of all, and least certain of success, is -the continuation of lessons that can be revived in consciousness only -by a laborious effort of memory. Intermediate in difficulty are the -insertion of new elements between induced or reproduced ideas, and -continuation on the basis of free-rising, or spontaneous, ideas. That -there may be many gradations besides is of course self-evident. - -The teacher who knows his pupils well will be able to make frequent use -of these distinctions. Only a very general outline of their application -can be given here. - -The realia and mathematics can be connected more easily than other -studies with the pupil's experience (101, 102). If the teacher has -properly availed himself of this advantage, he may count on ideas -that rise spontaneously, and his task will then consist in first -establishing a few suitable cardinal points so that insertions may be -made farther on. - -Languages present more serious difficulties. It is true that progress -in the vernacular is made through apperception by the pupil's earlier -attainments in his mother-tongue, and through the insertion of the new -into the old. But in foreign languages, which associate themselves -with the mother-tongue only gradually, apperception and insertion -cannot take place until after some knowledge of the language has been -acquired. And this knowledge must grow considerably before we can -reasonably look for spontaneous ideas. If now the reproduced ideas -become encumbered with additional new ones, worst of all through mere -continuation, we need not wonder if the result is useless chaos. - -This explains, no doubt, why the attempts to teach the ancient -languages _ex usu_, after the manner in which the language of a foreign -country is easily learned by residence in that country, had to end in -failure. One who learns French in France has persons and actions before -his eyes; he easily infers that which concerns him. Such apperception -takes place undoubtedly by means of spontaneous ideas with which the -foreign language becomes associated. Before long the language itself -becomes an apperceiving factor and participates in the process of -learning. For the ancient languages, on the contrary, a grammatical -working basis is needed first, especially a knowledge of inflectional -endings, pronouns, and particles. The blunder should not be made, to -be sure, of beginning with a marshalling of the hosts of grammar, as -though grammar itself needed no base of operations. Long practice of -what is most necessary must precede. But the worst plan would be to -start in with cursory reading; in other words, to continue without -making sure of anything. - -Even cursory reading, however, produces good results under one -condition; namely, the existence of a lively interest in the contents. - -130. When the thoughts of the reader hasten on in advance of the words -and get hold of the general sense correctly, the required apperception -is performed by means of spontaneous ideas together with the insertion -of whatever was not inferred. But this presupposes a very favorable -relation of the book to the reader. Hence texts used in the teaching -of a language must be chosen with very great care, and their contents -explained. - -Such work should not be slighted in favor of grammar; on the other -hand, as much grammar must be given as is necessary. Some of the -essentials will have to precede the reading; complementary facts will -be presented in connection with the reading; other portions of the -grammatical apparatus will be introduced at suitable halting-places. -Written exercises belong elsewhere and stand in a different relation to -grammar. - -The interest in an author depends very largely on historical -preparation; here we cannot fail to discover connection between -philology and the so-called real studies. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -=Remarks on the Plan of Instruction as a Whole= - - -131. Where many diverse means are to coöperate for the attainment of -one end, where many obstacles have to be overcome, where persons of -higher, equal, and lower rank enter as factors requiring consideration, -it is always a difficult matter to keep the end itself, the one fixed -goal, steadily in view. In instruction the difficulty is increased -by the fact that no one single teacher can impart the whole, and -that consequently a number of teachers are obliged to depend on -one another. But for this very reason, however much circumstances -may vary the courses of study, the common end, namely, many-sided, -well-balanced, well-connected interest, in the achievement of which -the true development of mental powers consists, needs to be lifted -into prominence as the one thing toward which all details of procedure -should point. - -132. No more time, we need to realize at the outset, should be demanded -for instruction than is consistent with the proviso that the pupils -retain their natural buoyancy of spirits. This must be insisted on, -and not merely for the sake of health and physical vigor; a more -direct argument for our present purpose lies in the fact that all art -and labor employed to keep the attention awake will be thwarted by -the disinclination to study caused by sitting too long, and even by -excessive mental application alone. Forced attention does not suffice -for instruction, even though it may be had through disciplinary -measures. - -It is urgently necessary that every school have not only spacious -schoolrooms, but also a playground; it is further necessary that each -recitation be followed by an intermission, that after the first two -periods permission be granted for exercise in the open air, and that -the same permission be given after the third period if there is a -fourth to follow. - -Still more urgent is the demand that pupils shall not be deprived of -their hours of needed recreation by an excessive amount of school work -to be done at home. The teacher who loads pupils down with home tasks -in order to dispense as much as possible with perhaps uncertain home -supervision, substitutes a certain and general evil for a possible and -partial one. - -The neglect of such precautions has given rise in recent times to -very bitter complaints, which will continue to be heard in future -for similar reasons. Violent gymnastic exercise is not the means to -put a stop to them. They threaten to lead to another extreme--such -restrictions upon instruction as will make an inner unity of work -impossible. - - The subjects of fatigue and school hygiene have now grown to - unexpected dimensions. Many periodicals are devoted to them, while - the volume of literature bearing upon them has passed the stage where - one person can be expected to command it all. In his "Bibliography - of School Hygiene," published in the "Proceedings of the National - Educational Association for 1898," Professor William H. Burnham - enumerates four hundred and thirty-six standard works, articles, and - journals dedicated to this cause. Many of these books, like those of - Eulenberg and Bach, or Burgerstein and Netolitzky, comprise hundreds - of pages, being based on extended experiment and research. - -133. The time properly belonging to instruction must not be scattered. -The deep-rooted practice of assigning two hours per week to one study -and two hours to another, each lesson separated from the next by an -interval of two or three days, is absurd, because incompatible with -continuity of presentation. Of course, if the teacher can stand this -arrangement, the pupils will have to endure it. - -The subjects of instruction must be taken up in order that each may -have its share of continuous time. To give a whole term to each is not -always practicable; frequently shorter periods will have to suffice. - -Again, one subject must not be split into several, according to the -names of its branches. If, for example, we should set apart separate -hours for Greek and Roman antiquities and again for mythology in -addition to the time designated for the reading of ancient authors, -separate hours for the systematic survey of the branches of knowledge -besides those reserved for German in the highest class of the -gymnasium, separate hours for analytic geometry alongside of algebra, -we should tear asunder where we ought to join together, and should -dissipate the time at our disposal. - -Saving time depends on methods better than these,--on proficiency in -presenting a subject and skill in conducting recitations. - - Despite the protest here entered, German schools still adhere to the - plan of presenting many subjects simultaneously, few hours per week - being devoted to each. American schools are fairly free from the - reproach, it being an exception to find standard subjects taught less - than four or five times per week. - -134. As boys grow older, they may derive a great deal of profit from -reading and doing many things by themselves. Following their own -choice, they develop in accordance with their individual traits. We -question, however, the wisdom of calling for reports on such outside -pursuits. Pupils of ordinary capacity should not be made ambitious -to imitate what they are not fitted for; extensive reading must not -impair feeling and thinking. Breadth of learning is not identical with -depth, and cannot make up for lack of depth. Instead of reading, some -engage in the study of a fine art. Others are compelled at an early -age to give lessons in order to support themselves. These learn while -teaching. - -The essentials of a coherent scheme of studies must not be dependent -on outside reading; they must be embraced in the plan of instruction -itself. - -135. From beginning to end the course of study must be arranged so as -to provide for each of the main classes of interest. The empirical -interest, to be sure, is called forth everywhere more easily than -any of the other kinds. But religious instruction always fosters -sympathetic interest; in this it must have the assistance of history -and language study. Æsthetic culture at first depends on the work in -the mother-tongue; it is desirable to have, in addition, instruction in -singing, which at the same time promotes the health of the pupil. Later -on, the ancient classics contribute their share of influence. Training -in thinking is afforded by analytic, grammatical, and mathematical -instruction; toward the end, also, by the study of history, which then -becomes a search for causes and effects. Coöperation of this sort is to -be sought everywhere; the authors to be studied must be selected with -this end in view, and interpreted accordingly. - - If there is a defect in Herbart's scheme of interests as a guide - to the selection of the studies of the curriculum, it lies in the - fact that the interests named are too exclusively applied to the - pupil's individual life, and not enough to his life as a member - of the social whole. There is an important sense in which even - natural science, which may be expected to cultivate the speculative - interests, is social; for science becomes truly significant only - when it contributes to the service of men. The fact that we now live - in an industrial age, that life is preserved from disease in so large - a measure, that the well-being of every community is advancing so - rapidly, that universal education is now a fact rather than a dream, - is due to the application of science to human welfare. Consequently, - we are not restricted to a few humanitarian topics, like history and - literature, for the development of our social interests. We find that - every study has its sociological as well as its personal bearings. On - the other hand, since all studies are both subjective and objective - in the interests they arouse, it would be possible to awaken all the - six classes of interest enumerated by teaching but a fraction of - what we now consider needful in a good curriculum. It would seem, - therefore, that the six classes of interest, at best, indicate what - the _quality_ of our teaching should be, not with sufficient accuracy - _what_ subjects should be taught. The latter is determined quite as - much by social as by psychological needs. - - - - -SECTION III - -TRAINING - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=The Relation of Training to Government and to Instruction= - - -136. Training looks toward the pupil's future. It is founded on hope, -and shows itself, to begin with, in patience. It tempers government, -the object of which might perhaps be realized more speedily by greater -rigor. It moderates even instruction in case the latter puts too great -a strain upon the pupil. But it also combines with government as well -as instruction, and lightens their work. - -Training consists primarily in a certain personal attitude, identical -if possible with a kind way of treating pupils. This implies readiness -on the part of the teacher to listen to the wishes and utterances of -the pupil, who, in the midst of strangers, looks to his teacher (and to -the family in charge of his education) for sympathy and support. But -training becomes active where the pupil needs help, especially help -against his own weaknesses and faults, which might frustrate the hopes -centred in him. - -137. Training insists on becoming conduct; it encourages cheerfulness -of disposition. In either case it remains within limits compatible -with the occupations connected with government and instruction. The -pupil is never to lose sight of the subject on which he is engaged; it -would be bad if a desire to show off, or to amuse himself, should take -possession of him and cause him to forget his work. - -The wise teacher will be glad to make himself personally agreeable to -his pupil as long as the conduct of the latter does not call for the -opposite treatment. Supervision grows less irksome in consequence. -Gentle words forestall, if anything can, all severer measures. - -138. The teacher does not look upon the progress resulting from his -teaching with feelings of indifference. His sympathy, even solicitude -it may be, coöperates powerfully with the greater or lesser degree -of interest awakened in the learner. Training, however, can never be -made a substitute where there is no interest or, worse still, where -indifference has become positive dislike. - -139. In instruction the presence of interest cannot be simply assumed; -just as little can good intentions on the pupil's part always be -presupposed in training. One thing, however, must be taken for granted: -the pupil must not have come to feel that the discipline is weak and -the instruction poor. Any defect in either direction must therefore be -traced to its source and remedied. When pupils feel free to do as they -please, when they think they have good cause to blame the teacher for -their failure to make progress, his manner will be of no avail; and -futile attempts only make matters worse. - -140. In some cases training becomes blended with government to such -an extent that it can scarcely be distinguished from the latter. -As an example, we may mention the large educational institutions -conducted on a military basis, where the individual pupil is carried -along by the general system, rather than made the object of special -care. In other cases, training and government remain farther apart -than is necessary; an instance of this is when a strict father keeps -himself at a distance, and leaves the business of training, within -the prescribed rigid limits, to the tutor of his children. At all -events, a distinction must be made between the two concepts, training -and government, in order that the teacher may know what he is doing, -and may notice what is perhaps lacking; we are justified in adding, -in order that he may save himself useless effort. For training is not -uniformly effectual, regardless of circumstances; the teacher needs to -be watchful in this matter in order that the opportune moment for doing -what can be done may not escape him. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Aim of Training= - - -141. While the aim of instruction was rendered sufficiently -determinate, as we saw above (17, 64, 65), by the injunction, -be perfect, the aim of training, which supplements educative -instruction, comprehends virtue as a whole. Now virtue is an ideal, -the approximation toward which is denoted by the term _morality_. -Again, since, generally speaking, a child passes on from mere capacity -for culture to culture itself, from the indeterminate to fixedness of -knowledge, the approximation to virtue consists likewise in development -toward stability. Where conduct in moral affairs vacillates, there is -a deficiency; where something morally hateful becomes confirmed, there -is a defect. Excluding both, we define the aim of training properly as -moral strength of character. - - "Training" means such will-training as conduces to the formation - of good character; "government" means such training as conduces - to good order. The first is for a permanent, the second for - an immediate, purpose. In government we can appeal both to a - positive and a negative means. The positive means is interest in - a study and the affairs of the schoolroom; the negative means - is inhibition of disturbing impulses. As Professor James, in his - "Talks on Psychology,"[13] points out, this inhibition may be of - two sorts,--that of forcible suppression, and that of substitution. - A teacher who uses negative means of inhibiting mischief or - inattention, employs command or punishment. This method, though - sometimes seemingly unavoidable, often results in mental strain, - if not permanent alienation between teacher and pupil. The method - of substitution attempts to secure inhibition of the undesirable - state of mind by giving rise to a set of favorable ideas strong - enough to displace it. "If, without saying anything about the street - disturbances," which may be distracting the attention of your pupils, - "you open a counter attraction by starting some very interesting - talk or demonstration yourself, they will altogether forget the - distracting incident, and, without any effort, follow you along." - Training, however, has a more difficult task. It must succeed in - implanting what may be called regulative principles in the mind. - It must furthermore succeed in establishing habits of conduct that - will enable the pupil to become self-governing. That is, we must - establish in him habits of feeling and action that will enable him - to substitute the higher for the lower good, or, at least, instantly - to inhibit the temptation to evil. This is a task not for a day or a - year, but for the whole school period. - -[13] James, "Talks on Psychology," p. 193, Henry Holt & Co., New York, -1899. - -142. In succeeding chapters character and moral conduct will each have -to be differentiated more minutely. For our present purpose we need -only to remind ourselves that the determinateness of the will, which -is called character, depends not only on willing, but also on not -willing. The latter is either a deficient or a denying willing, which -repels or rejects. Stern methods of governing, which bar access to -everything that might lead astray, are likely to produce a deficient -will rather than the permanence of formed strength; with the end of -school days, the dreaded opportunities arrive after all, and the pupil -may quickly undergo a change beyond recognition. The task of training -must therefore be thought of as embracing both affirmative willing and -rejecting. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=Differentiation of Character= - - -143. Our will activities result from ideas. Different masses of ideas -give rise to different will action; hence the difficulty experienced in -harmonizing and unifying the manifold acts of will. - -The various groups of ideas do not simply succeed one another -in consciousness; the relation of one to the other may also be -that of apperception. Apperceiving attention is not confined to -sense-perception (77); it embraces inner perception as well. The -process of apperception, however, consists rarely or never in mere -perceiving. It involves more: one mass of ideas exerts a determining -influence on the other. Now, since each may be the source of will -action, it happens that often one act of will accepts or rejects -another. Again, conscious of himself preëminently as a being that -wills, man gives commands to himself and decides concerning himself; -he seeks to acquire self-control. In such efforts he makes himself -more and more the object of his own observation. That part of his will -activity which his self-observation reveals to be already in existence, -we call the objective part of character. To the new will action, -on the other hand, which first springs into existence in and with -self-examination, we give the name subjective part of character. - -The subjective side of character can attain its full development only -during the years of maturity. Its beginnings, however, reach back into -boyhood, and its normal growth during adolescence is noticeably rapid, -due allowance being made for variations of kind and degree in different -individuals. - - The assumption of the unconditional primacy of ideas can no longer - be seriously entertained. Just as there is an unfolding of ideas in - sensation, perception, apperception, and rational insight, so there - is an unfolding of our volitional life in impulse, conscious will - action, and the control of conduct in accordance with the regulative - principles of moral obligation. Knowledge and will doubtless spring - from a common root, but they are not primarily so related that - volition waits on knowledge. Impulse is antecedent to idea, while in - the last analysis and in the highest realm of mind, the _actual_ is - subordinate to the _ideal_, the _ought_ is more powerful than the - _is_. In other words, there is, as Dr. Harris maintains, a sense in - which the will is self-determining, even though the extent to which - this self-active control obtains is uncertain. As Natorp says,[14] - "It is folly to call upon the weak to be strong, to concentrate - consciousness upon the categorical imperative, so that the inflexible - demands of the ought shall be complied with." Yet even in the weak - there is a bar of consciousness or perhaps conscience before which - judgment must be pronounced as to the worthiness or unworthiness of - a given line of conduct. It is the function of moral education--and - this includes all education--to make the weak strong, to strengthen - the good impulses, to clarify the insight, to accustom the mind to - dwell on the right set of ideas, to cultivate desirable feelings - and interests. In this process of moral development, the world of - ideas has perhaps all the validity claimed for it by Herbart. What - is here called the "subjective" side of character pertains to that - regulation of conduct which arises from its examination before the - bar of consciousness as to its agreement or disagreement with the - regulative principles of moral obligation. It is that advanced - stage of development in character in which the mind is consciously - self-directive. Naturally it is later than the "objective" side, - where action is more spontaneous, more governed by impulses, more - subject to hypnotic suggestion; in short, more subordinated to - "ideo-motor" activity and less governed by reflection. - -[14] Natorp, "Socialpädagogik," p. 9, tr. Fromman, Stuttgart, 1899. - -144. In view of the very manifold volitional elements which the -objective foundations of character may obviously contain, it will -facilitate a survey if we distinguish (1) that which the pupil does or -does not endure willingly, (2) that which he does or does not long to -have, (3) that which he does or does not like to do. Now one, now the -other class predominates, the strongest controlling and restricting the -rest. But this restriction is not always an easy matter. Accordingly -the objective phase of character attains at first to inner harmony only -with difficulty. - -145. In consequence of frequent repetitions of similar acts of will, -general concepts are gradually formed in the subjective side of -character, concepts comprehending both the similar will actions already -present under similar circumstances, and the requirements man sets up -for himself with a view to determining his willing one way or another. - -These requirements fall largely within the province of prudence; they -pertain to forethought and cautious reserve, or, may be, to action, in -order that an end may be gained by the choice of suitable means. The -boy wants to be wiser than the child; the youth wiser than either. In -this way man seeks to rise above himself. - -146. Moral conduct is not always furthered by man's effort to surpass -himself, so that the teacher's task becomes a twofold one,--a watching -and directing not only of the objective but also of the subjective side -of character. Temperament, native bent, habit, desire, and passion -fall under the former; to the latter belong the frankness or cunning -displayed by the pupil, and his habitual method of practical reasoning. - -147. As a rule, we may consider it auspicious for character building if -the pupil, instead of being swayed by moods and whims, is constant in -his willing. Such uniformity as requires no effort we may designate by -the expression memory of will. - -When a pupil possesses this natural advantage, the objective part of -his character easily arrives at harmony with itself. He sees that among -his many preferences relative to enduring, having, doing, one imposes -restrictions upon the other; that it is often necessary to submit and -endure in order to have and do that which is desired; that pursuits of -which he is fond do not always yield what he longs to have, and so on. -When these truths have become sufficiently clear to him, he soon comes -to a point where he decides which things he cares about a great deal, -and which less. He chooses, and choice largely determines character, -primarily character in its objective aspects. - -In the course of the development of the subjective part of character, -there are formed in succession resolves, maxims, and principles, a -process involving subsumptions, conclusions, and motives. It will cost -many a struggle before these motives can assert themselves. - -The strength of a character depends on the agreement between its two -parts, the objective and the subjective. Where there is want of accord, -the character is weak. But both must be morally good; where that is not -the case, strength ceases to be desirable. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=Differentiation of Morality= - - -148. Pupils at once active and kindly are not rare, and so far as -the ideas of perfection and good-will are concerned, give rise to no -anxiety, at least not at first. With a firm government, moreover, they -are easily induced to make the golden rule their own, and they soon -become disposed to yield in contention, or rather, become more careful -about picking a quarrel. Accordingly, with reference also to equity and -justice, they cause little anxiety. In time they gain mental balance, -the basis of genuine self-control, and are now on the road to inner -freedom. In short, they are in possession of that which, in the light -of fundamental ethical ideas, constitutes morality. - -But these constituents of moral conduct are not found together in -every one, nor do they always remain together. Side by side with the -praiseworthy traits mentioned, others of an opposite nature frequently -manifest themselves; it becomes evident that the latter are not -excluded, and thus the former do not determine the character. - -149. In order to exclude the morally evil, the praiseworthy traits -of the objective side of character need to be reinforced by the good -resolutions of the subjective part. - -These resolutions, to be worth anything morally, must rest on that -theoretical judgment whereby the pupil through examples comes to -distinguish between better and worse in willing. As long as his judging -lacks clearness, energy, and completeness, his resolutions are without -a foundation in his mind and heart. They are hardly more than memorized -words. - -When, on the other hand, the theoretical judgment has become interwoven -with the totality of interest growing out of experience, social -intercourse, and instruction, it creates a warm affection for the good -wherever found, an affection which influences not only all of the -pupil's efforts of will, but also the manner in which he assimilates -what instruction and life henceforth offer. - -150. Finally, in order to fortify moral decisions, we must avail -ourselves of the assistance derived from the logical cultivation of -maxims, from the systematic unification of the same, and from their -constant application in life. - -Here the organic connection between character growth and the formation -of habits of reflection becomes apparent; training is, therefore, -obviously unable to accomplish its work except in conjunction with -instruction. - - As soon as a pupil gets a clear notion that a presented ideal of - conduct promotes the true realization of his own being, he is - in a position to acquire an interest in reaching that ideal. An - end, hitherto remote, comes nearer, so that it begins to exercise - influence upon the conduct that leads to it. Convention, appeal, - or even compulsion from without, are now reinforced by the good - resolutions arising from the pupil's own subjective states. Here we - see the interaction of intellectual and emotional capacities. The - intellect perceives relations, thus bringing into consciousness a new - ideal; this distant end is mediated inasmuch as desire or feeling - impels the pupil to enter upon a course of conduct whose stages lead - to the ideal goal.[15] - -[15] See Dewey, "Interest as Related to Will," reprint by the National -Herbart Society for 1899, pp. 15-16. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -=Helps in Training= - - -151. The function of training does not consist, it is true, in always -restraining and meddling; still less in ingrafting the practices of -others to take the place of the pupil's self-activity. Nevertheless, -refusal and permission are so much a part of training that the pupil -becomes far more dependent through training than mere government could -make him. In government a few rules may be enforced very strictly, -while in other respects the boy is left to himself; in training a -similar relaxation of vigilance is scarcely ever permissible. Only the -strongest grounds for confidence in a pupil would justify such a course. - -The watchful teacher, even without aiming to do so, always shows some -degree of approbation or dissatisfaction. In many cases this is all -that is necessary; at times, with sensitive pupils, even this is too -much. Unaccustomed censure hurts them more than was intended, while -no evidence, however slight, of approval, escapes their notice. The -teacher should be considerate in his treatment of such sensibility. - -152. With regard to restraint of freedom, keenness of sensibility -is more common. In this connection another point also calls for -consideration. Freedom is of the utmost direct importance to formation -of character, provided it issues in well-weighed and successful -action. For from success springs the confidence of will whereby desire -ripens into decision. Where rational action may be looked for, freedom -of action must be granted; where the opposite is true, the early -appearance of a vivid consciousness of self-activity is fraught with -danger. - -Frequent censure and curtailment of freedom generally blunt -sensibility, rather more, however, sensibility to words than to -restrictions. Accordingly, where repetition of censure is necessary, -the language may and should vary. On the other hand, the teacher's -practice with respect to permission and prohibition must, where -possible, be felt to be permanent, even if it were only to confine -the granting of the same permission to stated times, in accordance -with an adopted habit. Lack of uniformity, except for obvious reasons, -impresses pupils as arbitrariness and caprice; fixed limits are endured -more easily. - -153. The sensibilities are irritated least by mere directions, by daily -reminding, by calls at the appointed hour, without words of reproach. -There are numerous details of daily life which must be placed under -the rule of order, but it would be unwise to make more of them than -they deserve. Sharp reprimands ought not to be wasted on petty acts of -negligence; they are needed for important things. Rules must be obeyed; -but a light punishment, one that does not wound the feelings, is more -suitable here than harsh words could be. - -154. Closely related to the foregoing is the cultivation of habits -that imply endurance, or the bearing of deprivation without murmur, -or even an inuring to positive hardships. In efforts tending in this -direction it is not sufficient merely to refrain from hurting the -pupil's feelings; youthful good humor and love of fun must be allowed -free expression besides. - -155. Mischievous consequences follow if children become accustomed -to frequent, unnecessary gratification of desires, or to a round of -artificial pleasures which include neither work nor exercise. To -mention only one such consequence, the attendant blunting of the -sensibilities renders ineffectual numerous minor aids of training -which may be employed to good advantage with unspoiled children. It -takes little to give children a great variety of pleasures when great -moderation is a matter of daily practice, and for this very reason -we need to husband, as it were, our resources for giving enjoyment, -in order that much may be accomplished with little. Harmless games, -particularly, should not be spoiled for children by making them feel -that they must cultivate the staid behavior of adults. Their own -ambition fills them only too early with the desire to appear no longer -as children. - -156. The good teacher's watchfulness will extend even to petty details, -which may indeed prove momentous enough in his little world. These are -not so important, however, as the mutual relations of the coöperating -factors:-- - -(1) _Relation between Action and Rest._ The powers of the child must -be given something to do, but exercise is to further their growth and -hence must not be carried to the point of exhaustion. Now and then -a boy must convince himself by experience that great things may be -achieved by strenuous effort, but severe tests of this kind must never -be permitted to become the rule. - -(2) _Relation between that which puts down and that which lifts up._ -The means of training that humble and those that encourage should -balance as nearly as possible. That which rises of its own accord -requires no raising up; but when along the whole course of training -criticism perceptibly exceeds encouragement, it loses its effectiveness -and often embitters pupils more than it benefits them. - -(3) _Relation between Restraint and Freedom._ The child's surroundings -and companionship should afford protection against temptation, but his -environment must be sufficiently ample and rich to prevent much longing -for that which is outside. - -157. The outcome is uncertain in the case of those aids to training -whose effect on the sensibilities of the pupils cannot be foreseen. -Some of them are, nevertheless, well worth trying, final judgment being -suspended until after the result has been observed. Under this head -belong especially the strictly pedagogical punishments and rewards -which are patterned after the natural consequences of doing or not -doing. The boy who comes late loses the anticipated enjoyment; if -he destroys his things, he must do without them; over-indulgence is -followed by bitter medicine; tattling by removal from the circle in -which matters requiring discretion are discussed, etc. Such punishments -do not subserve moral improvement, but they warn and teach a lesson. To -what extent they will do so we are often unable to tell beforehand; a -profitable reminiscence may be retained at all events. - - The discipline of consequences has been much emphasized by Herbert - Spencer in his "Education." Its limited usefulness in moral training - is pointed out in the foregoing section. Acting like a mechanical - law, it tends to have the same effect upon the feelings that a - physical law has. How could one's moral sensibilities be impressed by - the law of gravitation? Nature makes us prudent, but scarcely good. - -158. Sometimes the question is how to set pupils on the right track -again. They have grown listless, for instance, or pursue their -tasks with reluctance. Here we may profitably resort to a sudden -interruption by a change of employment. It happens occasionally -that pupils, physically strong, are guilty of very bad behavior that -persists in spite of admonitions and punishments, or reappears in -another form, but which is, after all, at bottom, only the result of -a state of ill humor that can easily be corrected. An unexpected, -trifling present, an unusual act of attention, will very likely break -down the pupil's reserve, and when the cause of the trouble has once -been ascertained, it will be possible to discover a remedy. - -159. In the case of those that are weak physically, furtherance of -health combined with persevering patience is the first and chief duty. -But kindness should not degenerate into weak indulgence; on the other -hand, close supervision must take the place of every form of harsh -treatment. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -=General Method of Training= - - -160. The distinctions relative to character and morality (143-150) -furnish the thread of reflection on this subject. Concisely stated, the -function of training is to support, to determine, and to regulate; to -keep the pupil, on the whole, in a tranquil and serene frame of mind; -to arouse him occasionally by approval and reproof; to remind at the -proper moment, and to correct faults. A more definite significance -will be imparted to this brief summary by a comparative study and -application of the ideas analyzed in the preceding chapters. - - While we may accept the statement that the function of training is to - support, to determine, and to regulate, we must not forget to ask: - To what end shall it do these things? The answer is, that though - the means of moral training are always psychological, the ends are - always social. Support must hold the pupil up to social standards, - the directive power of the teacher must be exercised for social ends, - while all regulation of the pupil's activities must point to the same - result. There is scarcely a virtue to be named that does not find its - ultimate meaning in its application to conduct as affecting others. - This is true even in primitive society. In modern urban society it - is not only true, but vastly important. The discussion in Chapter VI - is psychological throughout. It must be the purpose of the annotation - to point out the social implications. - -161. First, what is meant by the supporting activity of training -becomes clearer if we recall the remarks made concerning memory of the -will (147) as opposed to the thoughtlessness usually ascribed to youth. -The thoughtless boy does not remember past acts of will. He stands in -need of being supported by training. This, further analysis shows, is -done in two ways: by holding him back from the wrong course, and by -holding him up to the right course. - -Training presupposes an efficient government and the obedience -consequent to it. By implication, the pupil would not dare to disobey -a command if given. But commands ought to be employed sparingly, and -only when inevitable. Imposed too frequently, they would preclude -self-development; if given to adolescents for any but obvious and -urgent reasons, obedience would not long continue. In short, government -acts at intervals. But the pupil cannot be permitted to live in a state -of lawless liberty in the meantime. He must remain sensible, be it ever -so little, of certain limits which he is not allowed to overstep. This -result is the aim of the supporting function of training. - -But the pupil, even though he be generally obedient, does not obey -every one, nor under all circumstances, nor always fully, promptly, -and without opposition; and when he once fails to comply with gentle -words, he will be still less ready to yield to a severe manner toward -himself. Of course, the teacher must know on what support he may -depend; the father needs to have made up his mind how far he would be -willing to go with coercive measures if necessary; the private tutor, -to what extent he may count on the backing of parents; the teacher in a -public institution, how far his course of action would be upheld by his -superiors. But all this involves an appeal from training to government, -a step to be avoided as much as possible. Most of the unpleasant cases -of intractability, where recourse to government becomes unavoidable, -are the gradual result of continued weak indulgence. Of such cases no -account is taken here, and justly so, since, apart from all else, even -defiant obstinacy, provided restraint has not been cast off utterly, -soon breaks down and gives way to remorse when it is met by serious and -deliberate firmness. - - The most obvious ways that the school has of securing a good "memory - of will" are those by which it enforces the well-known school - virtues,--regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry. It is to - the acquisition of these habits that the government, or discipline, - of the school is chiefly directed. Dr. Wm. T. Harris has pointed out - in detail the significance of this acquisition in the development - of character.[16] It is interesting to note how the teacher's - personal authority is reinforced by social pressure both within and - without the school. The Superintendent of a city of thirteen thousand - inhabitants reports that but 1462 cases of tardiness occurred during - a whole school year. The pupils of each room are given a brief - holiday, from time to time, provided nobody in that room is tardy - during the stated period. This brings an immense social pressure - within the school to bear in securing prompt attendance. Happening to - visit the Superintendent's office in a city of some sixty thousand - people, the writer observed the following scene: A young girl of - perhaps fourteen years of age, accompanied by her father, who was - a foreigner, unable to speak English fluently, entered the office. - The girl began at once to make excuses for her brother who was a - somewhat confirmed truant, and to beg that he might be excused and - reinstated. To objections stated by the Superintendent, the father - with much emotion replied, "Oh, Mr. Superintendent, won't you give my - boy another trial?" The boy had been 'tried again' so many times that - father and daughter were referred to the judge, an officer having - jurisdiction over such cases. The penalty for persistent truancy was - attendance at a state reformatory school. This is a case in which the - authority of the teacher in securing regularity of attendance was - reinforced by the community outside the school. The constant pressure - of school and community tend to establish habits of will memory that - serve as an excellent foundation for later moral training. - -[16] Third Year Book of the National Herbart Society. - -162. Before training can have within itself the power to make up -deficiencies in obedience, there must be awakened in the pupil a vivid -feeling that the approval of his teacher is a valuable possession, -which he would be loath to lose. This the teacher will bring about -in proportion to the effective and welcome share he has in the life -of his pupil. He must give before he can receive. Furthermore, if in -his opinion the pupil needs to be turned in a different direction, he -should not underestimate the difficulty of the task before him; he must -proceed slowly. - -The initial steps in character training are admirably described by -Niemeyer in the following words: "The teacher's first duty is to study -the positively good elements in the native character of the being to -be educated. To preserve these, to strengthen them, to transform them -into virtue, and to fortify them against every danger, should be his -incessant endeavor. They should constitute the keynote, as it were, -of his whole method of education. He should look for the good even in -the spoilt and vicious pupil, and should try to bring it to light, -no matter how many weeds may have sprung up alongside of it. For all -subsequent moral education must start from this point." - -Although this passage belongs in strictness to the discussion on moral -education, it is plainly entitled to a place here also. An appeal -to the pupil's better nature promotes ready compliance on his part, -especially when it is accompanied by those little courtesies that go -with cultivated social intercourse. It is most effective with those who -possess at the same time the strongest memory of will, which it will -not be difficult for the supporting activity of training to strengthen -still further. - -163. On the other hand, the task of training grows arduous in -proportion as the pupil fails to bear in mind his acts of will. But -even here there is a difference between capricious unruliness and -downright flightiness and levity. - -Cases may arise where the impetuosity of the pupil challenges the -teacher to a kind of combat. Rather than accept such a challenge, he -will usually find it sufficient at first to reprove calmly, to look on -quietly, to wait until fatigue sets in. The embarrassing situations -into which such a pupil gets himself will furnish occasions for making -him feel ashamed, and now it remains to be seen whether or not he can -be made to adopt a more equable behavior. Here and there training may -in this way even make good the lack of government; scarcely, however, -for large numbers, after unruliness has once begotten vicious habits. - - Combats of any kind between teacher and pupil are to be deplored. - A good teacher is always strong enough in his mental superiority, - his authority, and his influence as an executive to avoid it. Such - a contest shows that the pupil has become self-conscious in a bad - sense. He sets his personality over against that of the teacher. - If the teacher is so weak as to meet him on his own ground, the - pupil has a good chance for a bad victory--bad for himself, the - teacher, and the school. It should be a constant aim of the teacher - to supplant introspection, whether pertaining to feelings or to - wilfulness, with motor activity. The pupil should always be doing - something that will promote not only his own best good, but that - of the school also. Authority should rarely so assert itself as to - incite or to permit a personal contest with the pupil. It should be a - strong but almost unseen presupposition of all school affairs. Here - as elsewhere idleness is the mother of mischief. Lively action is - sure to banish morbid introspection. - -164. Thoughtlessness in the narrower sense, which manifests itself in -forgetfulness, in negligence, in want of steadiness, and in so-called -youthful escapades, is a defect in native capacity, and does not -admit of a radical cure, imperceptible as it may become with age, by -reason of repeated warnings and diminishing susceptibility to external -impressions. All the more imperative is it in such cases to support -by training, in order that the evil consequences of this character -weakness may be prevented, or at least reduced to a minimum. For as -soon as a thoughtlessly impulsive boy comes to take pleasure in his -conduct, he will set himself against order and industry, and will -strive to discover the means which promise to secure for him a life -without restrictions. This danger must be forestalled by training. -At the beginning, and before an evil will has had time to develop, -training must take the place of will. It must bring home to the pupil -that of which he had lost sight. To his fluctuating and roving -impulses it must lend its own external firmness and uniformity, which -cannot be created at once, if at all, within the pupil. - -Here is the proper place for the injunction, not to argue with -children. "I cannot be too emphatic and outspoken in my warning against -too much arguing," says Caroline Rudolphi; and Schwarz, who quotes this -passage, adds, "Once is too often." Niemeyer, after speaking of the -excesses of abnormal liveliness and characterizing thoughtlessness, -which, he says, "causes inattention, a disregard for consequences, -and hasty actions," continues thus: "All these are not faults of the -heart; still they are faults that need to be amended, and about the -only sure educational method for amending them is to cultivate right -habits. Positive punishments wisely chosen may indeed be employed as -auxiliary means, but only when there are evidences of a lack of good -intention, or when these faults have become ominously prominent." He -further advises teachers to insist on this, that pupils rectify on the -spot what can be rectified, since vague recollections prove barren of -good results. - -This does not, of course, dispose of the whole matter, but we are still -discussing training as a supporting agency, and from this point of view -it is true that argument should not be substituted for the cultivation -of habits. - -165. To restrain the lively but thoughtless boy is more difficult than -to keep him properly active, for the latter is comparatively easy, in -some cases at least, if instruction excites his interest. The reverse -holds true for the sluggish boy because an attack has to be made on -his indolence. Here the stimulation to physical exertion through -association with wide-awake playmates is the first thing to be secured; -and where hard lessons cannot as yet be managed successfully, lighter -occupations will have to suffice. Where sluggishness is traceable to -bodily feebleness, improvement may be hoped for from sanitary measures -and increasing years. - -The following rule is to be observed everywhere: No exercise must -exceed the pupil's strength, but that which has once been begun must be -completed. At the least, pupils must not be allowed to drop their work -as they choose; they must look upon it as a whole, however small. - -166. That the supporting procedure of training rests on the teacher's -own bearing--on the uniformity of his demeanor--need hardly be said; -but this evenness must also stand out clearly before the eyes of the -pupils. The teacher ought to guard particularly against causing the -complaint that no one knows how to please him, that nothing one may -do is done to his satisfaction. When matters have come to this pass, -the first thing pupils do is to watch his moods as they might the -weather, and to interchange observations. His ugly mood is dreaded; -his pleasant mood is taken advantage of for importunate requests. -The pupils try to move the firm centre which is to support them, and -the faintest signs of success awaken and foster extravagant hopes. -Gradually the after-effects of earlier government die out, and a -renewal of severe measures draws with it a train of new evils. - - Goldsmith in his "Deserted Village" has well portrayed the "moody" - teacher:-- - - "A man severe he was, and stern to view; - I knew him well, and every truant knew: - Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace - The day's disasters in his morning face; - Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee, - At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; - Full well the busy whisper, circling round, - Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned." - -167. Second. Training is to exert a determining influence; it is -to induce the pupil _to choose_ (147). Under this head falls the -discrimination spoken of above between varieties of volitional -impulse--the will to bear, to have, and to do; hence also experiential -knowledge of the natural consequences of doing or of failure to -do (157), for unless these are taken into consideration, the manifold -of will cannot be reduced to harmony. Now the first point to be noticed -in connection with this aspect of training is that the teacher does not -choose for the pupil. The pupil himself must choose, for it is his own -character that is to be determined. He must himself experience a part, -although only the smallest part, of that which is desirable or harmful. -That the flame burns that a pin pricks, that a fall or knock hurts, -this lesson even the little child must learn; and similar experiences -must be gained later, provided they do not carry the pupil to the verge -of serious danger. Everything essential has been accomplished if, -in consequence of actual experiences confirming the teacher's words -of warning, the pupil believes other warnings without waiting for -confirmation. - - Not second in importance to the act of choosing is the content of the - choice. If conduct must have a social outcome, all the activities - of the school will focus at this point. In order to have rational - choice there must be first of all social intelligence. This it is - the function of instruction to develop. According to a well-known - doctrine of Herbart, it is the chief duty of instruction to make a - progressive revelation to the pupil of the ethical world, in order - that his puny will may gradually be reinforced by race experience. - The instruments for this revelation are the studies on the one hand, - and the conduct of the school according to social principles on the - other. In the second place, that the ethical choice may truly express - the pupil's inward state, rather than his outward constraint, it must - grow out of his insight as suffused by his social responsiveness to - ethical ideas. In other words, his disposition should confirm his - intellectual perception of the right line of conduct. This raises the - whole matter of interest as related to will.[17] Here again natural, - spontaneous, almost unconscious attitude is vastly superior to morbid - introspection, no matter how 'good' the pupil's disposition may prove - to be. A boy should not have to 'reflect' as to whether he will rob - a bird's nest or not. - -[17] See Dr. John Dewey, "Interest as Related to Will," National -Herbart Society, reprint for 1899. - -168. Pleasure and pain arise so largely out of social relations that -the pupil must grow up amidst a social environment in order to become -somewhat acquainted with his natural place among men. This requirement -gives rise accordingly to solicitous precautions against a bad example -and rudeness. On the other hand, a boy's companions should not be -chosen with such anxious care as if the intention were to spare him -the feeling of pressure which in all human society is generated by the -efforts and counter-efforts of men. Too great complaisance on the part -of playmates causes delusions as to the actual conditions of life. - -Again, society and seclusion must alternate. The social current is not -to carry everything else along with it, and to become more powerful -than education. Even the boy, and much more the youth, must learn to be -alone, and to fill up his time profitably. - - Unbroken association of the child with his mates tends to bring - him too exclusively under the influence of imitation and of acting - impulsively upon those forms of unreasoning suggestion which sway - the crowd, the gang, and the mob. To quote Professor Baldwin:[18] - "The characteristics of the social suggestions upon which the crowd - act show them to be strictly suggestions. They are not truths, nor - arguments, nor insights, nor inventions.... The suggestible mind - has very well known marks. Balzac hit off one of them in 'Eugénie - Grandet' in the question, 'Can it be that collectively man has no - memory?' We might go through the list of mental functions asking the - same question of them one by one. Has man collectively no thought, no - sense of values, no deliberation, no self-control, no responsibility, - no conscience, no will, no motive, no purpose? And the answer to - each question would be the same, No, he has none. The suggestible - consciousness is the consciousness that has no past, no future, no - height, no depth, no development, no reference to anything; it is - only in and out. It takes in and it acts out--that is all there is - to it." It is here that we find the source of the youthful escapade - so common to street, school, and college, as well as of the adult - deeds of diabolism that have so often shocked the moral sense of the - American people. The child needs frequent opportunities to be alone, - when he can "come to himself" as a responsible person. Even where the - association with his mates is perfectly innocent, there is a growing - responsiveness to mere suggestion. This tendency is corrected by - attention to individual tasks and responsibilities. - -[18] "Social and Ethical Interpretations," pp. 236-237. - -169. By living alternately with his equals in age and with adults, the -pupil grows familiar with diverse standards of honor. To unite these, -and to subordinate one to the other in a proper manner, will prove -an easy or a difficult part of training, according to the smaller or -greater gap between the value set on brute force on the one hand, -and the demand for good-breeding, as well as regard for talent and -knowledge, on the other. The main thing is not to foster ambition -artificially, though care must be taken at the same time to refrain -from crushing out a natural and true self-esteem. Usually, however, -those interested in the progress of a pupil stand in need themselves of -guarding against the self-deception due to extravagant hopes. By giving -themselves up to these, they involuntarily turn flatterers, and push -the boy, and the young man still more, beyond the position he is able -to maintain. Bitter experiences follow. - - The tendency to an abnormal overestimation of the value of physical - excellence is seen in the attitude of the modern college toward - athletics. Doubtless the public as a whole still underestimates - the importance of fine physical development. Our modern life with - its nerve-racking occupation will shatter the efficiency of large - portions of the race, unless the physical organism is so developed - as to withstand the strain. This, if true of men, is still more - true of women, who are now undertaking many new lines of exhausting - labor, not the easiest of which is teaching. But the college student - is prone to adore muscle. The successful athlete is, for a brief - period, praised, petted, and advertised far more than is the ablest - student or professor in the institution. Scarcely do the noblest - achievements of science or philanthropy receive so much notice as - a successful full-back on a foot-ball team. The athlete goes up - indeed like a rocket, startling the ear and dazzling the eye for - a moment--then oblivion, or deserved obscurity. The teacher must - endeavor to displace this false estimate of values by one more true - if less exciting. - -170. The regard for the value of things in their relation to the -ordinary necessities of life develops somewhat more slowly than the -natural sense of honor. This is true especially of money, which at -first boys rarely know how to use. Instead of saying, either this -or that, which a fixed sum will buy, the boy falls a victim to the -deception that lurks in saying, this _and_ that. In this respect also -the pupil needs to gain experience on a small scale; he must, moreover, -come to know the value of objects last, not merely in terms of money, -but also in terms of the inconvenience of doing without them. Warnings -against petty closeness are seldom necessary; not infrequently, -however, a boy follows common talk, and it may happen that he practises -parsimony by imitation, and squanders in obedience to his own impulses. -Where faults of this sort are not conquered by the pupil's own sense of -honor, they fall within the province of moral education. - - A modern device for teaching children the value of money, and - especially the usefulness of saving it, is the institution of - school savings banks. Here the pupil develops his instincts for - accumulation. At the same time he learns to inhibit his often - inordinate fondness for spending. If indulgence to self, accompanied - by penuriousness toward others, is permitted to grow into a habit in - childhood and youth, it becomes a source of much unhappiness in later - family life. Wife and children are often victims of this kind of - selfishness. Now that women are in the main the teachers of children, - they should have the interest of their sex sufficiently at heart - to inculcate suitable ideals and habits respecting the gathering - and spending of money. No form of selfishness is so obnoxious as - self-indulgence at the expense of those who have a natural right - to an equitable share of what is produced. The 'meanness' of such - conduct if constantly unveiled will effect its own cure. - -171. When experience has taught the pupil to what extent he must endure -or need not endure the pressure of human society, and what honors, -objects, enjoyments, he can have or must do without, the question -arises: How does he connect all this with the pursuits which attract -or repel him? The thoughtful pupil soon realizes, without being told, -that one thing often makes another possible, that one thing involves or -conditions another. But upon the thoughtless boy this truth does not -impress itself with sufficient force; consequently, the teacher has to -help him to deepen that impression, because a man without a settled -mind regarding these matters remains devoid of character. - -Yet a lack of fixedness is often desirable rather than otherwise--a -statement applying to those pupils whose intellectual interests -it is the business of instruction to awaken, or whose moral and -religious culture are as yet in a backward state. The objective part -of character (142) should not become fixed too soon; and very often a -large part of the value of training consists in retarding this process. -Such an end is subserved by the restraint under which the pupil is -kept by the subordinate position assigned to him in conformity with -his age, and particularly by the refusal of freedom to act without -permission, and according to his own inclination (152). The theoretical -judgment of will relations (149) is frequently late in maturing, -or remains weak in comparison with the impression produced by the -experiences mentioned. In that case moral ardor is also wanting, and if -the pupil were given liberty to do as he chose, his character would be -formed, to be sure, but in the wrong way. Rather would it be better to -encourage juvenile amusements, and even boyish games, beyond the usual -age limit. - -172. Third. Regulative training begins its work with the first -appearance of the subjective part of character (143). For an earlier -period the rule not to argue with children holds good (164); that is, -it holds good as long as we can get along with it. That stage, however, -is passed when the pupil begins to reason for himself; in other words, -when his thinking has acquired such consecutiveness that his thoughts -no longer come and go as momentary fancies, but attain to permanency -and coherence. Reasoning processes of this sort ought not to be left -to themselves, nor can they be repressed by dictatorial decrees. The -educator must now enter into his pupil's trains of reflection, must -argue with him and prevent further development in the wrong direction. - -The tendency to set up rules reveals itself early; for example, in the -games of children. Commands as to what to do are given every moment, -only these imperatives are imperfectly obeyed and often changed. -Neither is there lack of original, childish resolutions; but they -can mean little so long as they do not remain the same. It is very -different when they acquire stability, when means and ends combine into -plans, when execution is attempted under difficulties, and finally when -these resolves are thought in the forms of general concepts, thereby -laying claim to validity in possible future instances, and becoming -thus transformed into maxims. - -173. The wise forethought essential to regulative training requires in -the first place that the teacher shall rather tolerate an inconvenient -discussion than check a frank expression of opinion, provided the -objections of the pupil are indubitably sincere, and his vanity, we -will say, is not flattered too much by the unexpected consideration -accorded to his remarks. The same foresight is to be exercised in -cases where it proves impossible to convince the pupil at once. Here -the final judgment, instead of being insisted upon, should rather -be postponed; it will always be easy to point out to the pupil his -lack of adequate knowledge and to refer him to future studies. The -positiveness that usually characterizes the assertions of boys and -young men, generally has its roots in their great ignorance. They have -not the least inkling of how many opinions have been held and disputed. -Instruction will gradually cure them of their excessive self-confidence. - - Only in a pure despotism would the enforcement of unquestioning - obedience to authority be admissible. No country aspiring to - political liberty could tolerate such a system. Even if all political - considerations were dismissed, the development of subjective - character alone would demand a condemnation of such a method. But in - a country like ours, where men are both personally and politically - self-governing, education to leadership is not second to education - to obedience. There comes a time, therefore, when argument is in - place, provided its purpose is to clarify the pupil's insight into - prudence or duty. It will not be too much to insist upon obedience - without argument with all pupils so far as the ordinary school - virtues--regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry--are - concerned. Old and young can see their necessity. When it comes to - the more intricate phases of conduct, the grounds for authority, if - it is still exercised, may be revealed through dialogue. It is the - constant effort of training to establish regulative principles in the - minds of the older pupils, so that within the range of their capacity - they may become self-governing. In other words, the moral plateaus of - Kant are to be attained, not at a bound, but by a gradual progress - in moral autonomy. Herein we see the superiority of Herbart's - conception of moral training. What Kant gave up as an unsolvable - problem, can be seen to be only a natural process. Says Kant, "How a - law can of itself directly determine the will is for human reason an - insoluble problem, for it is identical with the problem how a free - will is possible."[19] The difficulty with Kant's theory was that - he admitted no psychological means for attaining the free directive - power of the mind. He could only say to the child: "You are free; be - free. You are morally autonomous; exercise your power; be a free, - self-governing citizen." Kant regarded natural impulses, emotions, - desires, pleasures, interests, as impure, hence to be rejected. They - are indeed to be rejected as the final ends of character, but what - Kant did not recognize is that they are the psychological means - for attaining character. Primarily these feelings, far from being - radically bad, as he thought, are radically good, since they help to - furnish the necessary conditions of survival, both for the individual - and for the race. Hunger, fear, courage, combativeness, prudence, - sexual instinct, inquisitiveness, love of adornment, frugality, - and a hundred other elemental passions have preserved the race - from destruction in the past. A new set of social and intellectual - impulses will in the future provide the instruments of survival, - now that the field of evolution is transported from the jungle to - the city. It is through intellectual insights that new ideals are - formulated; it is through these elemental feelings that the active - powers of the mind are stirred up to motor efficiency for their - realization. From being biological means for physical survival, - the feelings of man have now become psychological means for civic - survival. Psychologically, therefore, men are not born free; they - become free. To become free they must have opportunity to exercise - freedom; at first within definite but widening limits while they are - under the tuition of the school; later within the limits set by civil - society; at last absolutely, when they have recognized that what is - rational law in society is the law of their own being. - -[19] "Selections," p. 284. - -174. But the matter of greatest importance from the point of view of -training is consistency or inconsistency of action. One who lightly -sets up maxims must be made to feel the difficulty of living up to -them. In this way a mirror is held up to the pupils, partly in order to -put to rout untenable maxims, and partly to reinforce valid principles. - -Among the untenable maxims we include also those which, although in -accord with prudence, would offend against morality. If the pupil does -not see already that they cannot be maintained, the application, by -exhibiting their objectionable consequences, must bring to light their -true character. - -175. Regulative training often calls for rousing words from the -teacher. He has to remind the pupil of happenings in the past and -predict future consequences in case his faults should continue; he has -to induce him to look within himself for the purpose of tracing the -causal connection of his actions to its source. If, however, this was -done earlier, with a view to moral education, no long speeches are now -needed. Moreover, the teacher's remarks become calmer and briefer the -more effective they have been, the more he is justified in expecting -independent judgment on the part of the pupil, and finally the more -fully the latter has entered upon that period during which he looks -about him to observe the words and actions of strangers. For, at the -time when he has begun to compare the new with the old, his receptivity -for the old is very weak, and soon vanishes completely; unless, -indeed, the old had been deeply impressed beforehand. - - The purpose of the "rousing word" is to stimulate the mind to - exercise its dynamic force to moral ends. The pupil must not be - permitted to assume the attitude of negation, or to be a mere passive - observer, or an innocent, devoid alike of power and significance, - but he must be roused into a responsible character, an efficient - participant in life's activities. Successful appeal may be made to - insights already acquired, but theoretically held; to dispositions - implanted, but not yet actively exercised; to the application of - old habits to new uses. Even where appeal must be made against - objectionable conduct, it is better to apply the "inhibition of - substitution" to that of "negation."[20] While protesting against the - evil, point the way to the right road. - -[20] James, "Talks on Psychology," p. 192. - -176. Fourth. The pupil is to be kept in a quiet frame of mind; his -intellect in a state suitable for clear apprehension. To outbursts of -passion this applies absolutely; not so generally to emotions. Above -all, tranquillity is the condition for the formation of theoretical -judgments and hence also, although not exclusively so, for laying the -foundation of morality. - -Every desire may develop into passion, if the soul is so often and so -long in a desiring state that thoughts become focussed in the object -longed for, whereby plans shape themselves, hopes arise, and ill-will -toward others strikes root. Accordingly, watchful attention must be -given to all persistent and recurrent desires. - -177. The most usual desires are those which arise from the physical -need of food and of bodily activity. Now the first step to take is, -while guarding against excess, to satisfy these natural impulses in -order to subdue the unruliness springing from unsatisfied cravings. -We ought not to permit hunger to tempt a boy to steal, nor encourage -truancy by making him sit still too long. This warning is not -superfluous. Such things happen even in families where less irrational -practices might be expected. Over-indulgence, to be sure, is of far -more frequent occurrence. - -When the natural wants have lost their sting, a positive and -irrevocable refusal must be opposed to further desires. With it should -be combined some occupation capable of diverting the attention. - -If the object which continues to excite desire can be removed, all the -better. In one's own home this is more often practicable, and more -necessary as well, than in that of strangers. If the object cannot -be removed, gratification may be put off until some future time. The -foregoing statement may be illustrated by reference to the eating of -fruit from the tree. An unconditional prohibition carries with it a -dangerous temptation to disobedience, while unconditional permission -would be equally inadmissible on account of the plucking of green -fruit, let alone the possible injury to the orchards of others. - -Analogy will suggest many similar applications of the rule given. - -178. Again, children must be watched at their games. The more free -play of the imagination we discover, and the more change there is, -the less cause for concern. But when the same game is frequently -repeated according to the same fixed rules, when a species of study is -devoted to it in order to attain special proficiency, passions may be -generated, such, for instance, as an excessive fondness for playing at -cards, even where no stakes are involved. Gambling must be forbidden -entirely, and in case compliance with this prohibition is doubtful, -obedience must be secured by watchful supervision. - - To what end shall a teacher watch the games of children? To prevent - the bullying of the weak by the strong, to see that unfairness - does not creep in, to ward off vulgarity and profanity--these and - similar purposes will be in the mind of the teacher. One of the chief - functions of play, however, is to cultivate social efficiency. This - has two aspects, willingness to coöperate with a group and ability - to lead a group. It is necessary that there should be alternation - of leadership and coöperation. If one child is allowed to lead all - the time, he becomes overbearing; if another is always compelled to - follow, he becomes subservient. Each has a one-sided development. - Without discouraging unduly natural capacity for leadership, it - is well for the teacher quietly to see to it that each child has - his chance, both to lead and to follow. Just as the kindergarten - utilizes play to simulate the occupations of men, arousing sympathy - with them and respect for them, so the school may by proper - modification make the numerous group games, in which children - delight, a potent means for securing coöperative habits and a general - aptitude for social activities. Not a little attention is now paid - to the various forms of children's play. This is especially true of - such publications as the _Pedagogical Seminary_, published at Clark - University, Worcester, Massachusetts. - -179. An excellent means to avert the dangers connected with passionate -tendencies is to engage in the acquisition of one of the fine arts, say -music or drawing, even though there should be no more than a modicum of -talent. The student must be given to understand, however, that he is -not to take up the study of several musical instruments at once, nor -give himself up to distracting attempts in sundry branches of pictorial -representation. On the contrary, he is to strive consistently for -proficiency in one definite direction. - -In the total absence of aptitude we may avail ourselves of preferences -of one kind or other, such as fondness for collecting plants or shells, -for work in papier-maché, for joinery, for gardening even, etc. - -Poetical talent, highly desirable in itself, nevertheless demands a -solid counterweight in the shape of serious scholarly effort; for the -young poet sets up claims that are likely to prove dangerous if he -becomes absorbed in them. - - The importance of this suggestion can hardly be overestimated. It - is a case of the permanent inhibition of a host of possible evil - tendencies by substitution. The youth who can turn with pleasure - to his violin at every spare moment, never seriously misses the - companionship of his mates. He has, moreover, a never failing source - of enjoyment when there is nothing to interfere with his happiness, - and an equally inexhaustible source of consolation when the waves of - life are rough. - -180. Projects springing from passionate impulses, and betraying -their existence by their interference with order, diligence, and -the distribution of time, must be resolutely thwarted. This step is -rendered all the more urgent when several share in the same plan, above -all when ostentation, party spirit, and rivalry enter as impelling -factors. Such things must not be allowed to gain ground; they very -quickly vitiate the soil which education has been at such pains to -prepare for tillage. - -181. The passions being kept at a distance, the successful grounding -of the pupil in morality depends in general on the manner in which -instruction coöperates with his occupations. The branch of instruction -primarily most important in this respect is religious instruction. The -most immediate source, however, of the development of disposition is -found in the pupil's social environment, and it becomes the business -of training to cultivate a right spirit or disposition. Let us, -therefore, take up the practical ideas one by one. - - England and Germany are a unit in insisting upon the necessity of - religious instruction in the schools. Half the elementary schools - of the former country are in charge of the Church of England, - five per cent are controlled by Roman Catholics, three per cent - by Wesleyans, and some forty-two per cent by public boards of - education. All of these schools are subsidized by the state, yet - all, with few exceptions, give religious instruction. In Germany - there are but two strong religious organizations--the Roman Catholic - Church, mostly at the south, and the Lutheran, mostly at the north. - The state establishes all schools, furnishing most of the funds - for sustaining them and controlling their administration in large - measure; yet the morning hour of the day is devoted to instruction - in religion. Not so in the United States. Here, religious teaching - is, to all appearances, permanently excluded from the public - schools. In this condition of affairs there is but one resource: - we must the more diligently insist upon those things that reflect - the content of religion. That is, we must teach children to live in - close coöperative union with their fellows. The subjective side of - this training is portrayed in the sections that follow, where the - transformation of ethical insights into ethical habits is discussed. - -182. To speak of strife first, which cannot easily be wholly prevented -among children, and which is present to their minds, at least as a -possibility, self-help against unexpected bodily assaults cannot be -forbidden. A determined self-defence is rather to be recommended, but -self-defence paired with a merciful treatment of one's assailant. On -the other hand, it is necessary to prohibit absolutely any arbitrary -appropriation of objects, even though these objects should consist -of ownerless or discarded trifles. No one must imagine that his mere -pleasure is a law unto others. On the contrary, children ought to get -used to limitations on ownership. That which has been given them for a -certain purpose is to be used for that purpose alone, and must be taken -care of with that purpose in view. Promises among children should not -lightly be declared void, however foolish and impossible of fulfilment. -The boy who, by a hasty promise, puts himself in an embarrassing -position must be made conscious of the fact. Let his perplexity serve -as a warning for the future. But over-hasty promises are to be accepted -as little as they are to be made; and here is where we have to begin in -untying the knots in which children occasionally entangle themselves. - -It is not undesirable that pupils by their own acts furnish themselves -with a few keenly-felt instances of complicated questions of rights. -But pleasure in wrangling must be discountenanced; the pupils should -learn to prevent and to avoid contention. They may gain enough -familiarity with it to realize that it gives displeasure. - -183. At this point two paths open to our reflection. In the first -place, contention pleases children because it implies strength; in -seeking it they are, as a rule, merely giving vent to excess of animal -spirits. The outlet in this direction we must block, but we must -furnish another elsewhere. Gymnastic exercises, too, are exhibitions -of strength; emulation, which is not contention, is a welcome -feature of sport and play. Mental activity likewise affords suitable -opportunities for excelling; it also provides proper occasions for -making comparisons; but relative excellence, children must understand -distinctly, is not to be advanced by them as a basis for claims. Where -the question is one of degree of attainment,--therefore one of _perfice -te_,--the pupil is supplied with a practically useful standard by his -own progress and retrogression. To hold up one pupil as a model for -another to follow awakens envy; it will be much better, instead, to -make allowances where a weak pupil cannot do more than he is actually -doing. - - In all the ages of the past men have been the teachers of boys. Being - men, they have naturally taken the man's attitude toward youthful - conduct. When one boy is gratuitously assaulted by another, they have - upheld a sturdy self-defence as belonging to self-respect. In their - eyes an unsuccessful defence is better than a cowardly retreat. With - the advent of women as the teachers of boys it is natural that the - doctrine of passive non-resistance should be emphasized. When women - were only the physical mothers of the race, there was no danger of - the decay of virility, but now that they have become the intellectual - mothers as well, there may be such a danger. It is generally - conceded that the English boys' schools, like Eton, Harrow, and - Rugby, have been the best English conservers of independent manhood, - for there every boy stood on his own merits, having to fight his own - battles, being responsible for his own conduct, and at the same time - living under a high code of boyish honor. In our own public schools, - where no such _esprit de corps_ is possible, and where the doctrine - of peace at any price is likely to be insisted upon, it is possible - that there may be a distinct decline of virility in the boys. Such - a result would be deplorable; it would work to the detriment of - public education, and would decrease in public estimation the value - of woman's services in the schoolroom. While discouraging strife, a - teacher may, by a word of approval or excuse, justify an exercise of - primitive defence of the person against unwarranted assault. Manly - social games, like foot-ball, basket-ball, base-ball, are our best - resources in developing those phases of character that are closely - associated with motor efficiency. Here under proper guidance, - self-control, sense of power and efficiency, courage, and almost - every characteristic of virility may be happily developed. That - forethought and supervision are needed is most true, else unlovely - traits of character may easily get the upper hand. - -184. The second of the two ways alluded to takes us from the idea of -rights to that of equity. Strife is displeasing, but revenge still -more, notwithstanding the truth of the saying: what is fair for one -is fair for another. Children may indeed exercise their ethical -acumen by trying to determine how much one deserves to suffer or to -receive at the hands of others for the liberties he has taken or the -self-restraint he has practised, but they are not to arrogate to -themselves the function of inflicting punishments or of bestowing -rewards. Without surrendering their own insight, they must in this -respect submit willingly to the authority of their superiors. - -A similar course is to be pursued with reference to the distribution -of presents, enjoyments, and marks of approval. To avoid giving the -appearance of favoritism, the teacher should not, except for very good -reasons, depart from the principle of equal division; but, on the other -hand, he should refuse to accord to the pupils a right to these free -gifts. While permitting them to have an opinion on the appropriateness -of a greater or smaller share, he will properly deny them any right to -demand by virtue of this opinion. - -185. In cases deeply engaging the children's own sense of justice and -equity, complaisance and readiness to yield should not be exacted on -the spot. Children must have time to get to the end of their thoughts, -and to weary of what is often very fruitless brooding, before they -realize that to yield is after all a necessity, and hence in no sense a -matter of magnanimous choice. At some future time they may be reminded -that their path would have been smoother if the sentiment of good-will -had been in control from the beginning and had arbitrated the dispute, -or rather had prevented it entirely. - -Good-will is to be revered everywhere as higher than right; still the -latter must be represented as something that cannot be set aside with -impunity, unless it be by common agreement; that is, in consequence of -the consent of the holders of rights. - - There are two distinct aspects to good-will,--the benevolent, and - the coöperative or social. The well-known story of the Jericho Road - illustrates the first. He is the good neighbor who rescues the life - of the man who has been assaulted by the way. But social good-will - is more than benevolence; it is coöperation for the accomplishment - of common purposes. Among farmers it means mutual care to prevent - aggression, because of unruly stock or bad fences; it involves - combined efforts for good schools, good roads, public libraries, - educational agencies for promoting successful farming, associations - for promoting successful pleasures. In cities social good-will means - coöperation for paving and lighting streets, for the suppression of - crime, for furnishing good water and efficient sewerage, for defence - against fire, for rapid transit, besides the myriad agencies for - promoting the mental, moral, and spiritual welfare of the people. - A man in a city needs to be a good neighbor to everybody, even - though he may know personally but one in a million. In other words, - the civic man must be a brother, not only to him who falls among - thieves, but to him who lives among them; not only to his brother in - adversity, but also to his brother in prosperity. - -186. Finally, the degrees of difference among older boys, and -especially among young men, with respect to the nearness with which -they approach the still distant realization of the idea of inner -freedom, are, as a rule, sufficiently marked to be patent to all. The -superior excellence of those distinguished for steady and rational -conduct is usually dwelt on by the teacher rather too much than too -little; children are themselves too keen in observing each other's -shortcomings not to see how far behind the best some are. We ought, -therefore, rather to avoid stimulating in children the tendency to -belittle others, than to turn their attention to that which does not -escape them anyway. - -187. The bad conduct of adults near to the pupils will not, of course, -be exposed by the teacher; and if publicly known, the example set -will repel more than allure, so long as self-interest does not prompt -imitation or a search for excuses. But we need not entertain much -hope either that a worthy example will be followed; youth is too -prone to regard rectitude as a matter of course. Hence it will not be -superfluous to call special attention to right conduct, and to give -expression to the esteem which is its due. This applies particularly -to the time when a growing boy's outlook over society widens, and he -begins to compare many things whose false glitter might deceive him. - - There are many aspects of inner freedom. It is possible for a - narrow-minded man to live in perfect tranquillity, so far as his - conscience is concerned. Even if one lived true to Kant's categorical - imperative, which says, "So act that the maxims, or rules, of your - conduct might, through your own will, become universal laws," it - would still be possible for one to have a mind at peace with itself - while doing things that a higher code of morality would forbid. For - example, suppose I am an American Indian, and the question arises, - Shall I torture my enemies? Of course: do not the traditions of my - tribe prescribe it? This simply means that our ideals of conduct - grow out of our environment; they are social in their genesis. This - truth shows the infinite importance of making instruction reveal - clearly the best ideals of religion and civilization, for there may - be as much inward freedom, or good conscience, in the slums as in the - wealthy districts of the city. Subjective peace of mind may mean much - or little. A murderer may sleep as soundly as a missionary, but a man - of high ideals is whipped as with scorpions, if his conduct be base. - He feels that his higher self is outraged; he has no peace except - through repentance, restitution, and reform. - -188. Fifth. The pupil's mind, we will suppose, has been properly -directed, partly through the social relations obtaining among children, -partly through examples and instruction, to the requirements of the -various moral ideas, and he has learned accordingly to discriminate -with some keenness between will relations. Now the time has arrived for -moral education in the strict sense. For we cannot leave it to chance -whether our young charges will, of their own initiative, synthesize -for themselves noble actions on the one hand and base actions on the -other, whether they will take time to reflect, and will, each for -himself, apply the lessons taught. On the contrary, they all have to -be told, each one individually has to be told, truths that no one is -wont to hear with pleasure. The more thoroughly the teacher knows his -pupils, the better. By showing them that he divines their thoughts, he -supplies them with the most effectual incentive to self-observation. -Now the basis of what is commonly known as moralizing is furnished -by a retrospective view of the pupil's conduct for some time past, -by references to influences formerly at work within him, and by an -analysis of his good and bad qualities. Such teaching is by no means -to be condemned, nor even to be regarded as superfluous. In its proper -place it is absolutely essential. Many, it is true, grow up without -ever having heard a serious word of deserved censure, but no one ought -to grow up in that way. - -189. Only praise and censure are thought of here, not harsh words, much -less harsh treatment. Reprimands and punishments following upon single -acts are something different; they, too, may lead to moral reflections, -but must first have become things of the past. Moral improvement is not -brought about by the constraint of government, nor is it the result -of those pedagogical punishments which warn the pupil and sharpen his -wits by means of the natural consequences of actions (157). But it is -brought about through the imitation of the language of conscience and -of genuine honor, as seen in impartial spectators. Moreover, this -does not exclude consideration of the excuses which every one readily -finds in his heart. But while due allowance is made for mitigating -circumstances, the pupil is cautioned against relying on them in future. - -190. Ordinarily youth deserves neither strong commendation nor severe -criticism, and it is well to guard carefully against exaggeration -in either direction, if for no other reason than merely this, that -exaggeration either detracts from effectiveness, or else causes, -if not timidity, at least an unfortunate embarrassment. There is -one species of magnifying, however, which subserves a good purpose, -because it enables pupils to see more clearly the importance of -trifles and the great significance of their own actions, and in this -way helps to counteract thoughtlessness. We refer to viewing the -present in the light of the future. The pettiest faults are liable to -grow through habit; the faintest desire, unless kept under control, -may turn into passion. Then, too, the future circumstances of one's -life are uncertain; allurements and temptations may come into it, or -unlooked-for misfortunes. This prevision of the possibilities of the -future is, of course, not prophecy, and no such claim should be made -for it; nevertheless, it does good service as a warning. - -191. When the pupil has been brought to the point where he regards -his moral education as a matter of serious import, instruction in -conjunction with a growing knowledge of the world may bring it about -that a glow of moral sentiment permeates his whole thought, and that -the idea of a moral order unites on the one hand with his religious -concepts, and with his self-observation on the other. Henceforth the -direct, emphatic expression of praise or censure will have to be less -frequent. It will no longer be as easy as formerly to give a clearer -account to the pupil of what goes on within him than he has already -rendered to himself. We may still, however, come to his assistance from -another direction, namely, that of general concepts,--a field in which -advancing youthful reflection is little by little finding its bearings. - -192. Sixth. It is the business of training to remind at the right -moment and to correct faults. We may safely assume that, even after a -young man has reached the plane of moral decisions, he will still stand -in need of frequent reminders, although in this respect individuals -exhibit great differences, which observation alone is able to reveal. -But that which he is reminded of consists of resolves which lay claim -to something like universal validity, but which are not likely to make -good that claim when incorrectly formulated or conceived in the wrong -connection. General considerations become predominant with only a very -few at best; but youth especially sees and experiences so much that -is new that the old is easily slighted for the new, and, accordingly, -the general for the particular still more. Nevertheless, it is far -easier for training to remind and to correct with success where a good, -firm foundation has been laid, than it is to support (161-166) when in -adolescence nothing is found by which the pupil might try to steady -himself. - -193. It is evident from the wide divergence among the principles which -schools old and new have accepted as the basis of ethics and of systems -of justice, that many conflicting, or at any rate, one-sided views may -arise when the attempt is made to introduce order, definiteness, and -consistency into existing ethical concepts. This whole conflict and -one-sidedness of opinion, together with the innumerable fluctuations -that may find a place here besides,--all this is likely to be -reproduced in youthful minds, particularly where they make it a point -of going their own way. Very frequently acquired principles adjust -themselves to inclinations; the subjective side of character adapts -itself to the objective. Now, while it is the business of instruction -to correct error, training must avail itself of those opportunities -that reveal a directing of thoughts by inclination. - -194. When, however, the pupil has once established confidence -in his disposition as well as in his principles, training must -withdraw. Unnecessary judging and over-anxious observation would only -impair naturalness, and give rise to extraneous motives. When once -self-culture has been assumed, it should be left alone. - - - - -SECTION IV - -SYNOPSIS OF GENERAL PEDAGOGICS FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF AGE - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=The First Three Years= - - -195. Owing to the delicate character of the thread of life during -the earliest years, care for the body, a subject falling outside the -limits of the present discussion, has precedence of everything else. -The state of health, accordingly, implies great variations in the time -available for profitable culture of the mind. But short as this time -may be, it is extremely important, because of the great receptivity and -susceptibility of the first period of life. - - The lines of study suggested by these few remarks upon infancy have - been arduously pursued in recent years by Perez,[21] Preyer,[22] - Baldwin,[23] and others. The attempt has been made in these works - to show how the psychical and physical powers of the young child - actually unfold. In this way it has been possible to correct many - erroneous deductions from adult psychology, thus making elementary - training more successful. - -[21] Perez, "The First Three Years of Childhood." - -[22] Preyer, (a) "Mental Development in the Child," (b) "The -Development of the Intellect," (c) "The Senses and the Will." - -[23] Baldwin, (a) "Mental Development in the Child and the Race," -(b) "Social and Ethical Interpretations." - -196. Those moments when the child is fully awake and free from -suffering should always be utilized by presenting, but not obtruding, -something for sense-perception. Powerful impressions are to be avoided. -The same caution applies to violent changes; very slight variations -often suffice to revive waning attention. It is desirable to secure a -certain completeness of eye- and ear-impressions, so that the senses -may be equally at home everywhere within the fields of sight and sound. - -197. As far as safety permits, the spontaneous activity of the child -should have free play, primarily that he may get practice in the use of -every limb, but also in order that by his own attempts his observations -of objects and their changeableness may be enlarged. - -198. Unpleasant, repellent impressions of persons, whoever they are, -must be most carefully guarded against. No one can be allowed to treat -a child as a plaything. - -199. On the other hand, no one must allow himself to be ruled by a -child, least of all when the child becomes importunate. Otherwise, -wilfulness will be the inevitable consequence, a result almost -unavoidable with sickly children, by reason of the attention demanded -by their sufferings. - -200. A child must always feel the superiority of adults, and often his -own helplessness. The necessary obedience is founded on this feeling. -With consistent treatment, persons constantly about the child will -secure obedience more readily than others who are rarely present. -Outbursts of passion must be given time to subside unless circumstances -urgently require a different course. - -201. On rare occasions there may be an exhibition of force inspiring -enough fear to make a threat effective and to check an excess of animal -spirits. For if government is to escape the extremely harmful necessity -of severe disciplinary measures later on, it must become firmly -established during the earliest years of childhood. - -202. The language of children demands scrupulous attention from the -beginning, in order to prevent the formation of incorrect and careless -habits of speech, which at a later period it usually requires much -trouble and loss of time to eradicate. But literary forms of expression -that are beyond the comprehension of children are to be strictly -avoided. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Ages from Four to Eight= - - -203. The real boundary line is fixed not by age, but by that stage of -development when the helplessness of the first stage is superseded by -control of the limbs and a connected use of language. And the mere -fact that children are now able to free themselves from much momentary -discomfort carries with it greater calmness and cheerfulness. - -204. In proportion as the child learns to help himself, assistance from -without must be withdrawn. At the same time government must increase -in firmness, and with many children in severity, until the last traces -of that wilfulness vanish, which the former period does not as a rule -wholly escape. But this presupposes that no one provoke the child -unnecessarily to any kind of resistance. The firmer the established -order of things about the child, the readier his compliance. - -205. The child must be given as much freedom as circumstances will -permit, one purpose being to induce frank self-expression, and to -obtain data for a study of his individuality. Still, the main thing -at this age is to guard against bad habits, especially such as are -connected with objectionable tendencies of disposition. - -206. Two of the ethical ideas concern us here directly, each, however, -in its own way. They are the ideas of good-will and perfection. Some -particular aspects of the latter a child will almost always hit upon -himself. The former less often springs up spontaneously; it has to be -implanted, and this cannot always be done directly. - -207. The ill-will, which many children exhibit frequently, is always -a bad sign,--one that needs to be treated very seriously. A character -once perverted in this respect can no longer be radically changed -for the better. And this perversion sometimes begins very early. The -steps to be taken in this connection are determined by the following -considerations:-- - -208. In the first place, younger children are not to be left alone very -much. Their life should be a social life, and their social circle one -subject to strict order. This requirement fulfilled, all manifestations -of ill-will are at variance with the rule; and as soon as they appear, -the child finds himself opposed by the existing state of things. Now, -the more he has grown accustomed to participation in the common will, -to occupying his time, and being happy within its pale, the less will -he be able to bear the feeling of isolation. To punish a child for an -exhibition of ill-will, leave him alone. - -209. But such punishment presupposes the undiminished sensitiveness of -the younger child, who, on being left alone, begins to cry, and feels -utterly helpless and weak, but who, on the other hand, becomes cheerful -again the moment he is readmitted into the social circle. If this -period has been neglected, if the ill-disposed child has already caused -aversion in the circle in which he could have been happy, one feeling -of ill-will begets another in return, and nothing remains but to insist -on strict justice. - -210. The mere social spirit which keeps ill-will at a distance, is, of -course, very far from being good-will; children are even prone to look -upon descriptive illustrations of the latter, in the ordinary run of -books for children, as fables easily invented. Hence the first thing -to make sure of is faith in good-will. We have in mind here especially -the child who through force of habit has lost his appreciation of the -kindnesses constantly showered upon him in the course of his education. -Deprive him of some of the care to which he is accustomed; its renewal -will then make him recognize and prize it as a voluntary act. When, -on the contrary, children regard what is being done for them as their -right, or as the effect of some sort of mechanism, this blunder of -theirs becomes a fruitful source of the most manifold moral evils. - -211. To the union of kindness with the necessary degree of severity, we -must add friendliness, lest the heart of the child become chilled, and -the germs of good-will perish. During the period under consideration, -the child's frame of mind is still determined directly by the treatment -he receives. Continued unfriendliness of manner produces dull -indifference. The twofold problem of lifting the idea of good-will into -adequate prominence and of actually awakening sentiments of good-will -can, it is true, not be solved as early as childhood. But much has been -gained if sympathy, supported by sociable cheerfulness, unites with a -belief in the good-will of those on whom the child feels dependent, as -if they were higher beings. The soil is ready now for religious culture -and its furthering influences. - -212. The idea of perfection in its universal aspect is indeed as -foreign to the child's mind as that of good-will; nevertheless, the -rudiments of what this idea implies can be imparted with far greater -assurance of success. As the child grows and thrives, his strength -and accomplishments increase likewise, and he takes pleasure in his -own progress. But here innumerable differences in kind and in degree -demand our observation, particularly in view of the purpose of linking -instruction to the stage of growth. For it is during this period that -synthetic as well as analytic instruction begins, although it does not -as yet normally constitute the chief occupation of the child. - -213. As the child's sphere of free activity widens and his own -attempts create a growing store of experiences, which the teacher will -often find it very necessary to augment by purposely showing him about, -the earlier fancies are gradually being overbalanced by experiential -knowledge, although different individuals may exhibit great variations -of ratio. From this impulse to appropriate the new, spring the numerous -questions children put to the teacher, on the tacit assumption that he -is omniscient. They are the outcome of the mood of the moment, they are -purposeless, and most of them do not recur if not answered then and -there. Many of them concern words alone, and cease on mention of some -suitable designation of the object in question. Others relate to the -connection of events, especially to motives underlying the actions of -human beings, fictitious and real alike. Now, although many questions -cannot, while others must not, be answered, the tendency to ask -questions should, generally speaking, receive constant encouragement as -a sign of native interest, of the absence of which the teacher often -becomes painfully aware later on without being able by any skill on his -part to revive it. Here an opportunity is presented for preparing the -ground in many directions for future instruction. Only, the teacher -has to refrain, in answering questions, from the prolixity of untimely -thoroughness; what he ought to do is to sail on the waves of childish -fancy. And this does not usually lend itself to experiments; its -movements are, on the contrary, often inconveniently capricious. - -214. So long as there can be no fixed time for the analytic lessons -woven into answers to the questions of children, analytic instruction -is coincident with the guidance of the child's attention, with his -social intercourse, with his occupations and the consequent cultivation -of habits, with hardening exercises, ethical judgments, and the -earliest religious impressions; in some measure also with reading -exercises. - -215. To the latter portion of this period belong the first steps in -synthetic instruction, reading, writing, ciphering, the simplest modes -of arrangement, and the first observation exercises. If the child -is as yet incapable of uniform attention during a whole hour, the -teacher will be satisfied with smaller divisions of time; the degree of -attention is more important than its duration. - -Note that the subjects enumerated fall into different groups. Counting, -arranging, observing, are different phases of the natural development -of the mind. Instruction does not create these activities; its business -is merely to accelerate them. At the beginning, therefore, our mode -of procedure must be as much as possible analytic. On the other hand, -reading and writing can be taught only synthetically, although on the -basis of an antecedent analysis of speech sounds. - -(1) Arranging--commonly neglected, though wrongly so--is an -exceedingly easy exercise in itself, and facilitates the performance of -many other tasks. It is therefore appropriate for children. That three -objects may change places from right to left (from front to rear, from -above to below) and _vice versa_--this is the beginning. The next step -is to show that three objects admit of six permutations in a straight -line. To find how many pairs can be formed out of a given number of -objects, is one of the easiest problems. How far to go, is a matter to -be determined by circumstances. Not letters, however, but objects,--the -children themselves,--should be changed about, permuted, and varied in -position. The teaching of a subject like this must in a measure have -the semblance of play. - -(2) The first observation exercises begin with straight lines drawn -vertically or cross-wise. Use may be made also of knitting needles -variously placed, side by side or across each other, of domino checks, -and of similar objects. Next comes the circle, subdivided and presented -in manifold ways. - -(3) For arithmetic, likewise, concrete objects are needed,--coins, -for example, which are counted and arranged in different groups to -illustrate sums, differences, and products. At first the highest number -employed should not exceed, say, twelve or twenty. - -(4) For work in reading we may avail ourselves of letters and numbers -printed on cards, which lend themselves to a variety of arrangements. -If children are slow about learning to read, the blunder must not be -made of neglecting their mental culture in other directions, as though -reading were its necessary prerequisite. Reading often demands a large -amount of patience, and should never be allowed to produce a feeling of -aversion to teachers and books. - -(5) Writing is ushered in by the elementary drawing that must accompany -observation exercises. Writing itself, when once well started, furthers -reading. - -216. But already at this point many fall behind. Puzzled at first by -the demand upon them for the dull labor of learning, they surrender -themselves later on to the feeling of incapacity. In large schools, -where there are always some outstripping the rest, and where the -majority are trying to keep up with the pace set, performance can be -had more readily, although it is performance by imitation rather than -by an inner sequence of thought. And even here we find thoroughly -disheartened laggards. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=Boyhood= - - -217. The boundary line between boyhood and early childhood is fixed, so -far as this is possible at all, by the fact that the boy, if allowed to -do so, will leave the company of adults. Formerly he felt insecure when -left alone: now he considers himself fairly well acquainted with his -immediate environment, beyond which vistas of all sorts are opening. -Accordingly, at this stage it becomes incumbent on the adult to attach -himself to the boy, to restrain him, to divide the time for him, and -to circumscribe the fancies born of his self-confidence,--a course of -action rendered all the more necessary by the circumstance that the boy -is a stranger as yet to the timidity with which the youth joins the -ranks of men. For boyhood is marked off from adolescence by this, that -the boy's aims are still unsettled; he plays and takes no thought of -to-morrow. Moreover, his dream of manhood is one of arbitrary power. -The play-impulse remains active for a long time, unless checked by -conventionality. - -During this period, the work of linking instruction to sense-impression -is by no means to be omitted entirely, not even where fair progress -has already been made in scholarship. We must make sure of a solid -foundation. - -218. Our chief concern during the age of boyhood must be to prevent -the premature fixation of the circle of ideas. It is for instruction -to undertake the task of doing so. True, by far the greatest part of -the process of learning, however manifold, is performed through the -interpretation of words, the pupil supplying the meaning out of the -mental store collected previously. But this very fact obviously implies -that quantitively the pupil's stock of ideas is for the most part -complete; instruction merely works it up into new forms. Accordingly, -such shaping must take place while the material is still in a plastic -state; for with increasing years it gradually assumes a more solid -character. - -219. Boys differ from girls, individuals differ from one another; -and the subjects taught, together with the methods of teaching them, -should be differentiated accordingly. But here the family interposes -the interests of rank or station, and claims the right to determine by -these how much or how little instruction a boy needs. - -Looked at pedagogically, each study calls for a corresponding mental -activity to be suited to the general condition of the individual. Its -success must not involve exhaustion of the pupil's powers, nor make -demands upon them at the wrong time. - -But it would be an error to argue that one who is being initiated -into one subject ought to combine with that subject a second, third, -or fourth, on the ground that subjects one, two, three, and four are -essentially interrelated. This conclusion holds for scholars, who, -so far as they are personally concerned, have long passed beyond -preliminary pedagogical considerations, and even in their case it -applies only to those branches which are intimately connected with -their specialties; it has nothing to do with the psychological -conditions by which the course of education must be governed. Only too -frequently do masses of ideas remain isolated despite the fact that -the objects corresponding to them are most intimately and necessarily -interconnected; and such isolation could not have been prevented by -merely starting work in a large web of erudition in a number of places. - -The case is different where certain studies constitute the necessary -preparation for thorough knowledge of one kind or another. Here we are -right in concluding that one who cannot master the former is equally -unable to get hold of the latter.[24] - -[24] These remarks upon correlation are instructive in view of later -developments of the Herbartian school in Germany. The reader is -referred to discussions in the First and Second Year-Books of the -National Herbart Society. - -220. It is difficult to deal with the rare instances of tardy -development unless we find that they are due to neglected health, -or to lack of assistance in enlarging the range of experience, and -to failure to change the mode of instruction. Here an attempt may be -made to supply what is wanting. But even where the rate of progress -becomes more rapid at once, the teacher's efforts will have turned -out favorably only when the boy gives also clear proof of a vigorous -striving for advancement. - -221. To revert to fundamental ethical principles, particular mention of -the ideas of justice and equity needs to be made in this connection. -These ideas issue from reflection on human relations; they are -consequently less accessible to early childhood, which finds itself -subordinated everywhere to the family. The boy, on the other hand, -lives more among his peers, and the necessary corrections are not -always administered so promptly as to leave no time for independent -judgment. Not infrequently voluntary association takes place among -boys, personal authority plays a part, and even usurpation of power is -not rare. Now, education has to provide for clear ethical concepts and -for government and training besides. But not only that; it must also -furnish the kind of instruction that will exhibit similar but remote -relations, for purposes of unbiassed contemplation. Such instruction -must borrow its material from poetry and history. - -222. To history we are referred by still another consideration. As -has already been shown (206-211), the idea of good-will points to -the necessity of religious culture; and this relies for support on -stories, old stories at that. The expansion of the pupil's power of -thought which is here demanded must be generally attained, even though -very incompletely, in every course of instruction, that of the village -school included. - -223. Another fixed goal, the importance of which exceeds even that of -reading and writing, is furnished by arithmetic, which gives clearness -to the common concepts of experience, and is indispensable in the -practical affairs of life. - -224. Decimal arithmetic no pupil would be likely to think out by -himself; he would very certainly not invent Bible history. Both must -accordingly be regarded as belonging preëminently to the province of -synthetic instruction, which always involves the difficult problem of -how to assure its entrance, as a potent factor, into existing masses -of ideas. As to this, it would be a blunder to conclude that, since -Bible history and history as a whole, arithmetic and mathematics as -a whole, hang together, there is also a corresponding pedagogical -connection (219). But so much is certain, that the efficiency of -a group of ideas increases with expansion and with multiplied -association. It will be an advantage, therefore, to Bible history -and to arithmetic, if as wide a range is given to historical and -mathematical teaching as circumstances and ability permit, even if -the conditions should be such that a many-sided culture is not to be -expected. - -225. The subjects next to be considered in the choice of material for -instruction are poetry and natural history, great care being taken -not to disregard the necessary sequence. The time for fables and -stories should not be curtailed; it is important to make sure that -boys do not lose the taste for them too early. The easiest and safest -facts of zoölogy will have been presented already in connection with -the picture-books of childhood. The right moment for introducing the -elements of botany has arrived when the boy is collecting plants. -Foreign languages would be assigned the lowest place, if particular -circumstances did not in many cases lend them a special importance. -The ancient classical languages, at any rate, form to such an extent -the basis of the study of theology, of jurisprudence, and of medicine, -they are so necessary to all higher scholarship, that they will -always constitute the fundamental branches of instruction in academic -preparatory schools. - -It is obvious, however, that the extent of instruction depends too -much on external conditions of rank and means to permit a definite -prescription of instruction-material for all cases. Far less dependent -is the development of many-sided interest in its relation to branches -of study. If the limits set to the latter are narrow, it is still the -business of instruction to secure an approximation to many-sided -culture; while under highly favorable circumstances the very abundance -of educational help must put the teacher on his guard against losing -sight of the real aim of instruction. - -226. Frequently the burden of necessary and useful studies is made -excessively heavy, a fact which the members of the teaching profession -try to conceal from themselves, but which attracts the attention of -outsiders. A few hours of gymnastics do not sufficiently counteract -such evil effects. As an offset we have at best the prevention of -the vices of idleness. From every point of view, for the mere reason -that this matter calls for special attention and that the method of -procedure has to be determined in accordance with the results of -observation, the home must do its part toward relieving that natural -strain which even good instruction exerts--and the school must not -encroach on the time necessary for that purpose. In extreme cases, to -be sure, it may be expressly demanded that the school engage the whole -of a boy's time. But, as a rule, outside school-work should take up, -not the largest, but, on the contrary, the smallest amount of time -possible. How the remaining hours are to be employed is for parents -and guardians to decide according to individual needs, ascertained -by observation; and it is on them that the responsibility for the -consequences rests. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=Youth= - - -227. Whether instruction comes to an end or is continued during -this period, all it can accomplish depends now on the fulfilment -of the condition that the young man himself regard the retention -and increase of his attainments as something valuable. Accordingly, -the interrelations of knowledge, as well as its connection with -action, must be brought before his mind with the greatest possible -distinctness. He must be furnished, also, with the strongest incentives -to reach the goal determined upon, provided the question is merely how -to overcome indolence and thoughtlessness. For it is just at this stage -that the teacher needs to fear and to prevent those wrong motives which -would issue merely in an artificial semblance of talent. - -228. Moreover, the allowance made for the child and the boy can no -longer be made for the youth. His whole ability is to be put to the -test, and his position in human society determined according to the -outcome. He must experience something of the difficulty of obtaining -a foothold among men. Positions for which he does not seem quite -prepared are contested; he is surrounded by rivals, and is spurred -on by expectations, which it is often difficult to moderate when most -necessary. - -229. If now the young man puts his trust in favorable circumstances, -and, in spite of all appeals, gives himself up to the pursuit of ease -and pleasure, education is at an end. It only remains to conclude with -precepts and representations which future experiences may possibly -recall. - -230. If, on the other hand, the youth has his eyes fixed on a definite -goal, the form of life which he is striving to attain, and the motives -that impel him, will determine what else may be done for him. According -as the ideals of honor that he makes his own are directed more -outwardly or inwardly, they stand more or less midway between plans for -actions and maxims. - -231. The youth is no longer pliant, except when his failures have made -him feel ashamed of himself. Such cases must be made use of for the -purpose of making good deficiencies. But on the whole, duty requires -that the stern demands of morality be held up to him without disguise. -Perfect frankness can hardly be looked for any longer, and to insist -on it is out of the question entirely. The reserve of the age of -adolescence marks the natural beginning of self-control. - - These brief paragraphs on the development of the individual through - infancy, childhood, boyhood, and youth, mark an early interest - in what is now known as child-study, the literature of which has - become voluminous. For a dissertation on the experimental study of - children, and a bibliography of the subject, the reader is referred - to the monograph by Arthur McDonald, of the United States Bureau of - Education, entitled "Experimental Study of Children." A smaller but - more useful bibliography has been compiled by L. N. Wilson. It is - found in _Pedagogical Seminary_ for September, 1899. - - - - -PART III - -_SPECIAL APPLICATIONS OF PEDAGOGICS_ - - - - -SECTION I - -REMARKS ON THE TEACHINGS OF PARTICULAR BRANCHES OF STUDY - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=Religion= - - -232. The content of religious instruction is for theologians to -determine, while philosophy bears witness that no knowledge is able to -surpass the trust of religious faith. But both the beginning and the -end of religious instruction call for remarks from the point of view of -pedagogy. - -Religious instruction culminates, if it does not end, in the rite of -confirmation, and the subsequent admission to the Holy Communion. The -former is characteristic of a particular Christian denomination; the -latter, on the contrary, of the whole brotherhood of Christians. -Now the profound emotion which marks the first Communion service -should imply a conquest over the feeling of separation from other -denominations, especially since the mere admission to Communion is -conditioned on the general requirement of earnest ethical aspiration. -It is thus assumed that members of other confessions, provided they are -communicants at all, have fulfilled the same condition. Preparatory -instruction must work toward this end all the more, since with many -persons Christian love for those who differ from them in important -articles of faith belongs to the more difficult duties. Moreover, the -fact that this same instruction necessarily had to set forth clearly -fundamental denominational differences, lends additional weight to the -necessity of inculcating the virtue of Christian charity. - -233. In academic schools, if Greek is begun early enough, it is -possible to deepen the impressions of Christian teaching by the -dialogues of Plato that bear on the death of Socrates, particularly -the "Crito" and the "Apology." Being the weaker, however, impressions -of this sort should precede the time when the solemn initiation into -Christian fellowship produces its whole powerful effect. - -234. Going back in thought, we find that the portion of religious -instruction which deals with characteristic denominational -distinctions, presupposes that which deals with tenets common to all -Christians, and we find that this in turn has been preceded by Bible -stories, including those of the Old Testament. But the question arises, -"Must we not go back to something more fundamental still?" - -235. Religion cannot possibly be adequately presented by treating of it -merely as a perpetuation of something historical and past. The teacher -must needs make use also of the present testimony furnished by the -adjustment of means to end, in nature. But even this, for which some -knowledge of nature is prerequisite, and which leads up to the ideas of -wisdom and power, is not the first step. - -236. True family feeling is elevated easily and directly to the idea -of the Father, of the father and mother. Only where such feeling is -wanting does it become necessary to make churches and Sunday observance -the starting-point as indications of humility and gratitude. An -all-pervading love, providence, and watchful care constitute the first -concept of the Highest Being,--a concept limited by the mental horizon -of the child, and expanding and becoming more elevated only by degrees. - -237. The process of elevating religious concepts and purifying them -of unworthy admixtures must, however, have taken place, and the true -concepts must have been deeply impressed, before the mythological -conceptions of antiquity become known; in which case the latter will -produce the right effect by the contrast between the manifestly -fabulous and crude, and the worthy and sublime. If managed properly, -this subject presents no difficulties. - -238. But there are other difficulties,--difficulties growing out of -individual peculiarities. While some would be harmed by much talk -about sin, because they would thus either become acquainted with it, -or else be filled with fantastic terror, there are others whom only -the strongest language can move, and still others who themselves -preach against the sins of the world, and, at the same time, front the -world in proud security. Then there are those who brood over ethical -problems, and who, without having heard of Spinoza, argue that what the -Highest Judge has permitted to happen he has approved of, whence might -is the practical proof of right. There are contemners of mere morality, -who think that prayers will consecrate their evil actions. Isolated -traces of such perversions may indeed be met with even in children, -especially if their glib reproduction of the sermon, or worse yet, -their praying aloud, has happened to receive praise. - -Hence it is necessary to observe the effect of religious instruction on -each individual. Another task for home training. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=History= - - -239. The most common blunder that younger teachers of history are apt -to make is that, without intending it, they become increasingly prolix -in presentation. It is not that interest deepens, but that the network -of events lures them, now one way, now another. This of itself evinces -preparation; but mental preparation alone does not suffice; preliminary -practice, too, is necessary. - - Young teachers of history, like young teachers in other subjects, are - prone to error. What the prevailing error in a given study will be, - is likely to depend upon conventional methods of presenting it. In - Germany it is customary for the teacher himself to be the historian - through whose mind all historical knowledge passes on its way to - the children. But just as good writers of history are rare, so good - teachers of history are likely to be few, since in an important sense - they are at once teachers and oral historians. Where the text-book is - depended upon for the narrative, as in the United States, a different - difficulty presents itself to the teacher. What shall he do with the - text, all the pupils having read it? Perhaps the commonest method is - to call upon them one by one to reproduce it in class. But this is a - deadening process, since it compels nineteen pupils to sit passive - while the twentieth recites the words that the nineteen could repeat - equally well. If, therefore, the besetting fault of the teacher of - history in German is prolixity, that of the American teacher is - tediousness. The German method is that of primitive man, where the - legends of the tribe are handed down from father to son by word of - mouth; the American presentation of history is modern, where all the - resources of scholarship and the advantages of the printing press are - utilized. Each method has peculiar advantages, the former having the - possible charm of first-hand narrative, the latter that of accuracy - and comprehensiveness. The narrative method is greatly superior to - that of the text-book with children whose powers of reading are - not well developed; the text-book, together with its available - accessories, is greatly to be preferred with older pupils capable - of large amounts of reading. The following sections give a vivid - description of the narrative method at its best; the commentary will - attempt to show how the printed page may be made equally attractive, - and, at the same time, much more useful. - -240. If, to begin with, a purely chronological, but accurate, -outline-view of history is to be imparted, the teacher must be able -to traverse mentally the whole historical field, going with equal -readiness back, forward, or across (synchronistically). The notable -names must form definite groups and series; and the teacher must -possess facility in making the most notable names stand out clearly -from the groups, and in condensing the most salient points of a long -series into a short series. - - If this mastery of subject-matter is important for the narrator, it - is equally important for the teacher who depends upon print for the - narration. Observation of current history teaching betrays the fact - that the teacher rarely becomes master of his material to such an - extent that he can throw it into new forms. As it stands in the book, - he probably knows it; but to take liberties with the facts, to expand - parts, or throw masses into brief outline, to make new groupings, or - to change a long series into a short one, usually lies beyond his - ability. This lesson the American teacher must learn through a better - mastery of his materials. - -241. Again, the teacher must make himself perfectly familiar with -general notions that relate to classes of society--constitutions, -institutions, religious customs, stages of culture--and that serve -to explain events. But not only this; he must study likewise the -conditions under which he can develop them and keep them present in -the minds of his pupils. This consideration alone shuts out most -generalizations from the first lessons in history. And, accordingly, -ancient history, whose moving causes are simpler than the more modern -political factors, maintains its place in presentations of historical -material to younger pupils. - - American history is better than ancient history in respect to its - richness of picturesque variety. It is, moreover, easier for children - to comprehend, since our present conditions have emerged directly - from our pioneer state. Not only are constitutions, institutions, - and religious customs to be studied, but the economic conditions of - those early times are particularly worthy of study, since they are - both important and interesting. Methods of farming, of conducting - household affairs, such as cooking, making fires, producing - clothing, securing shelter, means of transportation on land and - water, methods of communication, and many other similar topics are of - interest to the young. - -242. Furthermore, due attention must be given to the difficulty of -narrating well a complex event. The very first condition is continuity -of the thought-current, in order that the thread of the story may -remain unbroken, except where there are intentional rests. This, in -turn, presupposes fluency of speech, careful cultivation of which is -indispensable to a good presentation of historical events. But mere -fluency does not suffice. There must also be resting-places, because -otherwise alternate absorption and reflection cannot be secured; and -because, without such pauses, even the formation of the series fails, -since what has preceded arrests what follows. It is therefore not -immaterial where a historical lesson begins and ends, and where the -reviews are inserted. - -While the narrator can utter words in succession only, the event has, -in his mind, a very different form, which it is his business to convey -to his hearers. Nor does the form of the event resemble a level plane; -on the contrary, a manifold interest lifts some things into prominence -and lets others sink. It is essential, accordingly, to distinguish how -far, in a given instance, the narration should follow in a straight -line the succession of events, and where, on the other hand, it should -deviate to include accessory circumstances. The very language used -must possess the power to induce side-glances and retrospective views, -even without leaving the main road. The narrator must have skill to -introduce descriptions here and to linger over pictures there, but must -be able also, while moving his hearers, to retain his own self-control -and to keep his bearings. - -243. There remains one other requisite of prime importance, namely, the -utmost simplicity of expression. The condensed and abstract language of -more recent historians is hardly suited even to the highest class of a -secondary school; a sentimental or witty treatment, such as that found -in modern novelists, must be avoided entirely. The only safe models are -the ancient classics. - - The most serious fault with the text-book method is the barrenness - arising from condensation. To teach history solely from a single - book, even if this be among the best, is to produce an atrophy of the - historical interest. It is on this account that successful teachers - introduce large amounts of collateral reading, not of similarly - condensed books, which would be like remedying the drouth with more - dry weather, but of sections from fuller works on the same subject. - In American history the pupil is directed to read selected portions - of standard works like those of Fiske, Parkman, McMaster, Turner, - Tyler, or earlier historians. In English history he is sent directly - to such men as Gardiner, Green, Freeman, Traill, Ransome, Cunningham - and McArthur, Harrison and Macaulay. The method of copious readings - has, in turn, its disadvantages, the most conspicuous of which is - diffusiveness. It is easy for the student to become so absorbed in - a mass of details that he lose the proper sense of proportion, or - overlook the relative importance of events, or fail to fix firmly - in mind the causal series that binds all together. In the case of - either of the methods described, it is the teacher who is responsible - for order and for clearness of detail. In the one case his narrative - must have the artistic unity of the finished historian; in the other - he must so manage a wealth of given material that the golden chain - of cause and effect shall be seen binding diversity into unity. The - ability to do the first is of a much rarer order than that of the - second, for the art of teaching is not so difficult as the art of - historical composition. The remedy for the specific difficulty which - modern text-book teaching of history encounters will be discussed - under paragraph 247. - -The stories of Herodotus should serve the teacher as the basis for -practice. In fact, they should actually be memorized in an accurate but -fluent translation. The effect on children is surprising. At a later -stage use may be made of Arrian and Livy. The method of the ancients of -letting the principal characters utter their views and set forth their -motives with their own lips, the narrator abstaining from reflections -of his own, should be scrupulously imitated, and should be departed -from only in the case of manifestly artificial rhetorical devices. - -244. The course of preparation outlined above (240-243) having gone -hand-in-hand with a thorough, pragmatic study of history, it is -further necessary, in the exercise of the art acquired, to learn to -expand or contract, according to circumstances and the specific aims of -each occasion. Concerning this point no generally applicable rules can -be given, on account of the great variety of possible cases; but the -following suggestions should be noted:-- - -In general, all helps whereby historical objects may be represented to -sense--portraits, pictures of buildings, of ruins, etc.--are desirable; -maps for the more ancient times must be regarded as particularly -indispensable. They should always be at hand, and their study -should not be neglected. Among these helps must be included charts, -substantially like that by Strass entitled "The Stream of Time," which -places before the eye not only synchronistic events, but at the same -time shows also the alternate union and division of countries. The lack -of such aids causes the loss of much time and temper over mere memory -work. - -Again, attention is due to the following four aspects of the teaching -of history:-- - -245. (1) In the first place, even the earliest lessons in geography -give rise to the question, whenever the description of a country is -finished, "How did things look in this country formerly?" For it is -a part of correct apprehension that cities and other works of man -should not be regarded as of equal age with mountains, rivers, and -oceans. Now, although the teacher cannot stop, during the time set -apart for geography dealing with the present, to show and explain maps -illustrative of the past, it will be useful, nevertheless, to add a -few remarks about the early history of the country under discussion. -The art of narration, however, is out of place here, inasmuch as the -question, although reaching back in time, is suggested by the country. -Mention of former activity, such as migrations and wars, is made simply -for the purpose of adding life to the conception of a stationary -surface. At the beginning, the notes on by-gone periods in connection -with the geography of Germany will accordingly be as brief as possible; -gradually, however, as France, England, Spain, Italy, are being studied -in succession, these historical notes become knit together, and history -is thus, so to speak, made to loom up in the distance. How far to go -in this direction can be determined more definitely by distinguishing -between the requirements of the first, and of the second course in -geography. In the first course the most general statements may suffice, -_e.g._, that not so very long ago Germany was split up more than now; -that there were older times, when cities and neighboring princes often -made war upon each other; that the barons used to live on more or less -inaccessible heights; but that, in the interest of better order and -stricter surveillance, Germany was divided into ten districts, etc. - -The second course will admit of more historical facts than the first, -although still only very few pertaining to an older epoch. Only the -more recent events can be conveniently connected with geography, except -in the case of still extant historical monuments,--such, for instance, -as the ruins in Italy, the composite language of England, the peculiar -political organization of Switzerland with its many subdivisions, -visible on the map, and its diversities of language. - -If, as is sometimes recommended, the plan is adopted of preparing -the way for the study of mediæval and modern history by a separate -introductory course in short biographies, such a plan, though at best -only fragmentary in its results, becomes at least more feasible where -historical notes of the kind just mentioned are incorporated with the -lessons in geography. But in this case it is all the more essential to -have a chronological chart upon the wall, to some dates of which the -teacher must take every opportunity to refer, in order that the pupils -may obtain at least some fixed points. Otherwise scattered biographies -are liable to occasion great confusion. - -246. (2) The chief basis for the earlier stages of historical teaching -will always be Greek and Roman history. It will not be inappropriate -to commence with a few charming stories from Homeric mythology, since -there is a close connection between the history of a people and their -religion. Two wrong ways, however, are to be avoided: one, that of -giving a detailed theogony or of including objectionable myths, for -the sake of completeness, which would here be devoid of a rational -purpose; the other, that of having the mythological elements memorized. -Only true history should be memorized by children. Mythology is a study -for youths or men. - -Persian history must be told approximately in the sequence and setting -given by Herodotus; to it the history of Assyria and of Egypt may -be joined in the form of episodes, Greece being kept well in the -foreground. The stories from the Old Testament, on the other hand, form -a chain of lessons by themselves. The history of Rome must at first -retain its mythical beginnings. - - Whatever German opinion may be regarding the beginnings of historical - instruction for their own children, American history possesses - strong claims for precedence when we come to children of the United - States. If we regard the chief intellectual purpose of history for - the student to be the understanding of the present status through - a knowledge of the historical progress that has led to it, then - the primitive and pioneer history of this country is infinitely - more valuable than any other to an American child, for in it lie - enfolded the forces that have developed our people; whereas Greece - and Rome are as distant in influence as they are in time. It is the - mythology of Greece and Rome that most attracts children; but this - belongs to literature rather than to history. Accounts of battles - are about the same the world over, but it takes more maturity of - mind to understand the Greek rage for individuality after the rise - of philosophy, than it does to understand a corresponding feeling - among the American pioneers, to say nothing of the desirability of - teaching the latter as a phase of our own development. For reasons - of simplicity, therefore, as well as for psychological nearness and - national importance, American history must take precedence over that - of Greece and Rome for American children. - -247. Suppose, now, that detailed stories after the models furnished by -the ancients have won the attention of the pupils; the mere pleasure -of listening to stories can nevertheless not be allowed to determine -continuously the impression to be produced. Condensed surveys must -follow, and a few of the main facts be memorized in chronological order. - -The following suggestions will be in place here. The chief events are -to attach themselves in the memory to the memorized dates in such a -way that no confusion can arise. Now, a single date may suffice for -the group of connected incidents constituting one main event; if it -seems necessary to add another, or a third, well and good, but to -keep on multiplying dates defeats the very end aimed at. The more -dates the weaker their effect, on account of the growing difficulty -of remembering them all. In the history of one country dates should -rather remain apart as far as possible, in order that the intervening -numbers may be all the more available for purposes of synchronistic -tabulation, by which the histories of different countries are to be -brought together and connected. The same sparing use should be made of -the facts of ancient geography, but those that are introduced must be -learned accurately. - - Granted that the primitive method of historical narration by the - teacher is the most effective in its appeal to the beginner, it - must be maintained that the combined knowledge and literary skill - of modern historians infinitely surpass the powers of the ordinary - teacher. The modern problem is, not how to compose history, but how - to utilize that which has been composed. It is, in short, to guard - against the confusion that comes from diffuseness. Wide historical - reading may be as bad for the student as wide reading of novels. The - mind may surrender itself to the passing panorama as completely in - the one field as in the other, until the impressions made are like - those of a ship upon a sea. The remedy is the thorough organization - in the mind of the student of the knowledge gained in diverse fields. - This is secured by teacher or author, or both. Some authors secure - clearness of outline by topics, references, and research questions. - Larned's "History of England" concludes every chapter in this way. - As an illustration we may quote from Chapter XVI, which narrates the - quarrel between King Charles and his people:-- - - 202. _Charles I._ - Topic. - 1. Charles's character and views. - References.--Bright, II, 608, 609; Green, 495; Montague, 118; - Ransome, 138, 139. - - 203. _Bad Faith in the Beginning of the Reign._ - Topic. - 1. Charles's marriage and broken pledges. - Reference.--Bright, II, 608, 614. - - 204. _The First Parliament of King Charles._ - Topics. - 1. Charles's designs and his treatment of Parliament. - 2. Attitude of Commons and their dissolution. - 3. The King's levies. - Reference.--Gardiner, II, 502, 503. - Research Questions.--(1) What were the legal and illegal sources - of the King's revenues? (Ransome, 151, 155). (2) What might be - said to constitute the private property of the crown? (3) What - contributed to make Charles's court expensive? (Traill, IV, 76). - (4) How would this need for money make for parliamentary - greatness?[25] - - In a similar way the remaining topics of this section of English - history are recorded, guiding the pupil in his outlines and his - readings. With suitable care on the part of the teacher to see that - the student fixes the outline firmly in mind, there is no danger of - becoming lost in a wilderness of words. At the same time the pupil's - mind is enriched from many noble sources, instead of being limited by - the presumably meagre resources of a single teacher. By this method - the child may enjoy the benefits of modern erudition, without at the - same time being harmed by dissipation of mental energy. - - Other authors reach the same ends by different means. Fiske's - "History of the United States," for example, concludes each chapter - with a topical outline in which cause and effect are emphasized. - At the close of Chapter X, on the "Causes and Beginning of the - Revolution," we find the following:-- - - - =Topics and Questions= - - 76. _Causes of Ill Feeling between England and her Colonies._ - 1. What was the European idea of a colony, and of its object? - 2. What erroneous notions about trade existed? - 3. What was the main object of the laws regulating trade, etc.? - - 77. _The Need of a Federal Union._ - 1. One difficulty in carrying on the French wars. - 2. An account of Franklin. - 3. Franklin's plan of union, etc. - - 78. _The Stamp Act Passed and Repealed._ - 1. The kind of government needed by the colonies. - 2. How Parliament sought to establish such a government. - 3. The nature of a stamp act, etc. - - 79. _Taxation in England._ - 1. How Pitt's friendship for America offended George III. - 2. The representation of the English people in Parliament. - 3. How the representation of the people is kept fair in the - United States. - 4. How it became unfair in England. - 5. Corrupt practices favored by this unfairness. - 6. The party of Old Whigs. - 7. The Tories, or the party of George III. - 8. The party of New Whigs and its aims. - 9. Why George III was so bitter against Pitt. - 10. The attitude of the King toward taxation in America. - 11. The people of England not our enemies, etc. - - At the close of these topics there follows a list of fifteen - "Suggestive Questions and Directions," with page references to - Fiske's "The American Revolution," Vol. I, the whole being concluded - by eighteen topics for collateral reading from "The American - Revolution," and from Cooke's "Virginia."[26] - - It is a significant fact that modern text-books for children are - being prepared by masters in the various departments of knowledge, - not a little thought being bestowed upon the highest utilization - of all modern instruments for arousing the intelligent interest of - the pupils. This being the case, it is idle to rely upon primitive - methods, however potent they may have been in the past, with pupils - who have learned to read fluently. - -[25] Larned, "History of England," Houghton, Mifflin & Co., p. 396. - -[26] Fiske, John, "A History of the United States for Schools," -Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, pp. 211-215. - -248. The general surveys that follow the detailed narratives have this -advantage for the pupil: he infers of his own accord, that in periods -of which not much is told, a great deal took place, nevertheless, -which the history or the teacher passes over in silence. In this way -the false impressions are prevented that would be produced by purely -compendious instruction, which indeed, at a later stage, becomes in a -measure unavoidable. - -249. (3) Mediæval history derives no assistance from the study of the -ancient languages, nor is it closely related to present conditions; -there is difficulty in imparting to the presentation of it more -than the clearness obtainable through geography and chronology. But -more than this is requisite: the burden of mere memory work without -interest would become too great. The fundamental factors, Islamism, -Papacy, the Holy Roman Empire, Feudalism, must be explained and given -due prominence. Most of the facts down to Charlemagne may be made to -contribute additional touches to the panorama of the Great Migration. -With Charlemagne the chain of German history begins, and it will -usually be considered advisable to extend this chain to the end of -the Middle Ages, in order to have something to which synchronous -events may be linked later on. Yet some doubt arises as to the value -of such a plan. To be sure, the reigns of the Ottos, the Henrys, the -Hohenstaufen, together with intervening occurrences, form a tolerably -well-connected whole; but as early as the interregnum there is a -sad break, and although the historical narrative recovers, as it -were, with the stories of Rudolph Albrecht and Ludwig the Bavarian, -there is nothing in the names of succeeding leaders, from Carl IV -to Frederick III, that would make them proper starting-points and -connecting centres for the synchronism of the whole period in question. -It might be better, therefore, to stop with the excommunication of -Ludwig the Bavarian, with the assembly of the electors at Rhense, -and with the account of how the popes came to reside in Avignon. -Then--going back to Charlemagne--France, Italy, even England, may -be taken up, and greater completeness given to the history of the -crusades. Farther on, special attention might be called, in a -synchronistic way, to Burgundy and Switzerland, and to the changing -fortunes of the wars between England and France. French history may -then leave off with the reign of Charles VIII, and English history -with that of Henry VII, while German history, from Maximilian on, -is placed again in the foreground. The Hussite wars will be treated -as forerunners of the Reformation. Other events must be skilfully -inserted. Many modifications of grouping will have to be reserved for -subsequent repetitions. - -250. (4) In presenting modern history, the teacher will do well to -avail himself of the fact that modern history does not cover so long -reaches of time as mediæval history does, and that it falls into -three sharply defined periods, the first of which ends with the -treaty of Westphalia, the second extends from this date to the French -Revolution, and the third, to the present. These periods should be -carefully distinguished, the leading events of each should be narrated -synchronistically, and a recital of the most essential historical facts -about each country should follow. Only after each has been handled -in this way, and the subject-matter presented has been thoroughly -impressed upon the memory by reviews, will it be well to pass on to a -somewhat fuller ethnographical account reaching back into the mediæval -history of each country and extending forward to our own times. No -harm is done by going over the same ground again for the purpose of -amplifying that which before appeared in outline only. - -The chief point is, that no course of instruction which claims at all -to give completeness of culture can be regarded as concluded before it -has introduced the pupil to the pragmatic study of history, and has -taught him to look for causes and effects. This applies preëminently to -modern history, on account of its direct connection with the present; -but mediæval and ancient history, too, have to be worked over once more -from this point of view. History should be the teacher of mankind; if -it does not become so, the blame rests largely with those who teach -history in schools. - -251. A well-compiled and well-proportioned brief history of inventions, -arts, and sciences should conclude the teaching of history, not only in -gymnasia, but also and especially in higher burgher schools, because -their courses of study are not supplemented by the university. - -Moreover, the whole course in history is properly accompanied by -illustrative poetical selections, which, although perhaps not produced -during the different epochs, yet stand in some relation to them; and -which in some measure, even if only by illustrating ages very far -apart, exhibit the vast differences in the freest activities of the -human mind. - - =Note.=--National history is not the same for each land, nor - everywhere of equal interest, and, owing to its connection with - larger events, often unintelligible to young minds when torn out - of its place and presented by itself. If its early introduction is - desired in order to kindle the heart, special pains must be taken - to select that which is intelligible and which appeals to boyhood. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=Mathematics and Nature Study= - - -252. Aptitude for mathematics is not rarer than aptitude for other -studies. That the contrary seems true, is owing to a belated and -slighted beginning. But that mathematicians are seldom inclined to -give as much time to children as they ought is only natural. The -elementary lessons in combination and geometry are neglected in favor -of arithmetic, and demonstration is attempted where no mathematical -imagination has been awakened. - -The first essential is attention to magnitudes, and their changes, -where they occur. Hence, counting, measuring, weighing, where possible; -where impossible, at least the estimating of magnitudes to determine, -however vaguely at first, the more and the less, the larger and the -smaller, the nearer and the farther. - -Special consideration should be given, on the one hand, to the number -of permutations, variations, and combinations; and, on the other hand, -to the quadratic and cubic relations, where similar planes and bodies -are determined by analogous lines. - - =Note.=--This is not the place for saying much that might be said - concerning that which renders early instruction in mathematics - unnecessarily difficult. But it may be remarked in brief that - some of these difficulties arise from the terminology, some - from the teacher's accustomed point of view, and some from the - multiplication of varying requirements. - - (1) The phraseology used forms an obstacle, even to the easiest - steps in fractions. The fraction 2/3, for example, is read - two-thirds, and, accordingly, 2/3 × 4/5, two-thirds times - four-fifths, instead of, multiplication by two and by four, and - division by three and by five. The fact is overlooked that the - third part of a whole includes the concept of this whole, which - cannot be a multiplier, but only a multiplicand. This difficulty - the pupils stumble over. The same applies to the mysterious word - _square root_, employed instead of the expression: one of the two - equal factors of a product. Matters grow even worse later on when - they hear of roots of equations. - - (2) Still more might be said in criticism of the erroneous - view according to which numbers are recorded as sums of units. - This is true as little as that sums are products; two does not - mean two things, but doubling, no matter whether that which is - doubled is one or many. The concept of a dozen chairs is not - made up of 12 percepts of single chairs; it comprises only two - mental products,--the general concept chair and the undivided - multiplication by 12. The concept one hundred men likewise contains - only two concepts,--the general concept man and the undivided - number 100. So, also, in such expression as six foot, seven pound, - in which language assists correct apprehension by the use of the - singular. Number concepts remain imperfect so long as they are - identified with series of numbers and recourse is had to successive - counting. - - (3) In arithmetical problems the difficulty attaching to the - apprehension of the things dealt with is confounded with that of - the solution itself. Principal and interest and time, velocity and - distance and time, etc., are matters which must be familiar to - the pupils, and hence must have been previously explained, long - before use can be made of them for practice. The pupil to whom - arithmetical concepts still give trouble should be given concrete - examples so familiar to him that out of them he can create over - again the mathematical notion and not be compelled to apply it to - them. - -253. The measuring of lines, angles, and arcs (for which many -children's games, constructive in tendency, may present the first -occasion) leads over to observation exercises dealing with both planes -and spheres. Skill in this direction having been attained, frequent -application must be made of it, or else, like every other acquirement, -it will be lost again. Every plan of a building, every map every -astronomical chart, may afford opportunities for practice. - -These observation exercises are to be organized in such a manner that -upon the completion of mensuration the way is fully prepared for -trigonometry, provided that besides the work in plain geometry, algebra -has been carried as far as equations of the second degree. - - Extended discussions as to the place and value of the ratio - idea in elementary arithmetic are found in "The Psychology of - Number," by McLellan & Dewey,[27] and in "The New Arithmetic," - by W. W. Speer.[28] The former work advocates early practice in - measuring with changeable units, claiming that the child should - early acquire the idea of number as the expression of the relation - that a measured somewhat bears to a chosen measurer, and making - counting a special case of measuring. Mr. Speer makes the ratio idea - still more prominent by furnishing the school with numerous sets of - blocks of various sizes and shapes with which to drill the pupils - into instantaneous recognition of number as the ratio between two - quantities. For an extended examination of these principles the - reader may well consult Dr. David Eugene Smith's able treatise on the - teaching of elementary mathematics.[29] - - =Note.=--It is now nearly forty years since the author wrote a - little book on the plan of Pestalozzi's A, B, C, of observation, - and he has often had it used by teachers since. Numerous - suggestions have been given by others under the title, "Study of - Forms." The main thing is training the eye in gauging distances and - angles, and combining such exercises with very simple computations. - The aim is not merely to secure keenness of observation for objects - of sense, but, preëminently, to awaken geometrical imagination and - to connect arithmetical thinking with it. Indeed, exercises of - this sort constitute the necessary, although commonly neglected, - preparation for mathematics. The helps made use of must be concrete - objects. Various things have been tried and cast aside again; - most convenient for the first steps are triangles made from thin - hard-wood boards. Of these only seventeen pairs are needed, all - of them right-angled triangles with one side equal. To find these - triangles, draw a circle with a radius of four inches, and trace - the tangents and secants at 5°, 10°, 15°, 20°, etc., to 85°. - The numerous combinations that can be made will easily suggest - themselves. The tangents and secants must be actually measured - by the pupils; from 45° on, the corresponding figures, at first - not carried out beyond tenths, should be noted, and, after some - repetition, learned by heart. On this basis very easy arithmetical - examples may be devised for the immediate purpose of gaining the - lasting attention of the pupils to matters so simple. Observations - relating to the sphere require a more complicated apparatus, - namely, three movable great circles of a globe. It would be well - to have such means at hand in teaching spherical trigonometry. - Needless to say, of course, observation exercises do not take the - place of geometry, still less of trigonometry, but prepare the - ground for these sciences. When the pupil reaches plain geometry, - the wooden triangles are put aside, and observation is subordinated - to geometrical construction. Meanwhile arithmetic is passing beyond - exercises that deal merely with proportions, to powers, roots, and - logarithms. In fact, without the concept of the square root, not - even the Pythagorean Theorem can be fully grasped. - - "Herbart's A, B, C, of Sense Perception," together with a number of - minor educational works, has been translated into English.[30] It - abounds in shrewd observations and ingenious devices, yet as a whole - it represents one of those side excursions, which, though delightful - to genius, is not especially useful to the world. To drill children - into the habit of resolving a landscape into a series of triangles, - may indeed be possible, but like any other schematization of the - universe, is too artificial to be desirable. Nevertheless, a limited - use of the devices mentioned in this section might tend to quicken an - otherwise torpid mind. - -[27] McLellan & Dewey, "The Psychology of Number," International -Education Series, D. Appleton & Co., New York, 1895. - -[28] Speer, W. W., "The New Arithmetic," Ginn & Co., Boston, 1896. - -[29] Smith, David Eugene, "The Teaching of Elementary Mathematics," -Ch. V, The Macmillan Co., New York, 1900. - -[30] Eckoff, William J., "Herbart's A, B, C, of Sense Perception," -International Education Series, D. Appleton & Co., New York, 1896. - -254. But now a subject comes up that, on account of the difficulties it -causes, calls for special consideration, namely, that of logarithms. -It is easy enough to explain their use, and to render the underlying -concept intelligible as far as necessary in practice--arithmetical -corresponding to geometrical series, the natural numbers being -conceived of as a geometrical series. But scientifically considered, -logarithms involve fractional and negative exponents, as also the -application of the Binomial Theorem. The latter, to be sure, is merely -an easy combinatory formula so far as integral positive exponents are -concerned, but, limited to these, is here of comparatively little use. - -Now, since trigonometry in its main theorems is independent of -logarithms, but is little applied without their aid, the question -arises whether beginners should necessarily be given a complete and -vigorously scientific course in logarithms, the highly beneficial -instruction in trigonometry being postponed until after the successful -completion of such a course, or whether the practical use of logarithms -is to be permitted before accurate insight into underlying principles -has been gained. - - =Note.=--The difficulty encountered in this subject--undoubtedly - one of those difficulties most keenly felt in teaching - mathematics--is after all only an illustration of the injurious - consequences of former sins of omission. If the geometrical - imagination were not neglected, there would be ample opportunity, - not only for impressing far more deeply the concept of proportion, - demanded even by elementary arithmetic, but also for developing - early the idea of function. The object lessons mentioned above - have already illustrated the dependence of tangents and secants - on angles. When these relations of dependence have become as - familiar as may be expected after a half year's instruction, sines - and cosines also are taken up. But it is not sufficient to leave - the matter here. Somewhat later, about the time when mensuration - is introduced, the squares and cubes of natural numbers must be - emphasized, and very soon committed to memory. Next it should be - pointed out how by finding the differences of squares and cubes - respectively, and then adding these differences, the original - numbers may be obtained again. A similar treatment should be - accorded to figurate numbers. - - Small wooden disks, like checker-pawns, commend themselves for the - purpose. By means of them various figures are found. The pupils - are asked to indicate how many disks they need to construct one - or the other kind of figures. A further step will be to show the - increase of squares and cubes corresponding to the increase of the - root, and to make this information serve as the preparation for - the elementary parts of differential calculus. Now the time has - come for passing on to the consideration of consecutive values of - the roots, which are found to differ by quantities of continuously - decreasing smallness as one progresses continuously through the - number system. And so, after the logarithms of 1, 10, 100, 1000, - etc., also of 1/10, 1/100, etc., have been gone over many times, - forward and backward, the conception is finally reached of the - interpolation of logarithms. - -255. In schools where practical aims predominate, logarithms should -be explained by a comparison of the arithmetical with the geometrical -series, and the practical application will immediately follow. But even -where recourse is had to Taylor's Theorem and the Binomial Theorem, -the gain to the beginner will not usually be very much greater. Not -as though these theorems, together with the elements of differential -calculus, could not be made clear; the real trouble lies in the fact -that much of what is comprehended is not likely to be retained in the -memory. The beginner, when he comes to the application, still has the -recollection of the proof and of his having understood it. Indeed, with -some assistance he would be able, perhaps, to again retrace step by -step the course of the demonstration. But he lacks perspective; and in -his application of logarithms it is of no consequence to him by what -method they have been calculated. - -What has been said here of logarithms may be applied more generally. -The value of rigid demonstrations is fully seen only when one has made -himself at home in the field of concepts to which they belong. - - It is customary in American schools to take up elementary algebra and - elementary geometry upon the completion of arithmetic, both algebra - and geometry being anticipated to some extent in the later stages of - arithmetic. The following paragraphs from the pen of David Eugene - Smith[31] indicate some of the advance in algebra since Herbart's - time:-- - - "The great revival of learning known as the Renaissance, in the - sixteenth century, saw algebra take a fresh start after several - centuries of complete stagnation. Tartaglia solved the cubic - equation, and a little later Ferrari solved the biquadratic. By the - close of the sixteenth century Vieta had put the keystone in the - arch of elementary algebra, the only material improvements for some - time to come being in the way of symbolism. For the next two hundred - years the struggle of algebraists was for a solution of the quintic - equation, or, more generally, for a general solution of an equation - of any degree. - - "The opening of the nineteenth century saw a few great additions to - the theory of algebra. The first was the positive proof that the - general equation of the fifth degree is insoluble by elementary - algebra, a proof due to Abel. The second was the mastery of the - number systems of algebra,--the complete understanding of the - negative, the imaginary, the incommensurable, the transcendent. - Other additions were in the line of the convergency of series, the - approximation of the real roots of numerical equations, the study of - determinants--all finding their way into the elements, together with - the theories of forms and groups, which must soon begin to influence - the earlier chapters of the subject. - - "This hasty glance at the development of the subject is sufficient - to show how it has been revolutionized in modern times. To-day it - is progressing as never before. The higher culture is beginning to - affect the lower; determinants have found place in the beginner's - course; graphic methods, objected to as innovations by some who - are ignorant of their prominence in the childhood of science, are - reasserting their rights; the 'imaginary' has become very real; - the inheritances of the algebra-teachers' guild are being examined - with critical eyes, and many an old problem and rule must soon go - by the board. It is valuable to a teacher to see what changes have - been wrought so that he may join in the movement to weed out the - bad, to cling to the good, and to reach up into the realm of modern - mathematics to see if, perchance, he cannot find that which is good - and usable and light-shedding for the elementary work." - - The true order of elementary mathematics, according to Dr. Smith, is - substantially as follows:-- - - 1. Elementary operations of arithmetic. - - 2. Simple mensuration, correlation with drawing, the models in - hand:-- - - Inductive geometry--the primitive form of the science. - - 3. Arithmetic of business and of science, using the simple equation - with one unknown quantity wherever it throws light upon the - subject. - - 4. Simple theory of numbers, the roots, series, logarithms. - - 5. Elementary algebra, including quadratic and radical equations. - - 6. Demonstrative plane geometry begun before the algebra is - completed and correlated with it. - - 7. Plane trigonometry and its elementary applications. - - 8. Solid geometry. Trigonometry. Advanced algebra, with the - elements of differentiation and integration. - - "The student should then take a rapid review of his elementary - mathematics, including a course in elementary analytic geometry and - the calculus. He would then be prepared to enter upon the study of - higher mathematics." - -[31] Compare Smith, David Eugene, "History of Modern Mathematics," in -Merriman & Woodworth's "Higher Mathematics," Wiley, New York, 1896. - -256. Demonstrations taking a roundabout way through remote auxiliary -concepts are a grave evil in instruction, be they ever so elegant. - -Such modes of presentation are rather to be selected as start from -simple elementary notions. For with these conviction does not depend -on the unfortunate condition requiring a comprehensive view of a -long series of preliminary propositions. Thus Taylor's Theorem can -be deduced from an interpolation formula, and this, in turn, from -the consideration of differences, for which nothing is needed beyond -addition, subtraction, and knowledge of the permutation of numbers. - - The following account of imaginary and complex numbers by - Dr. David Eugene Smith is so lucid that it is given at length:-- - - "The illustrations of the negative number are so numerous, so - simple, and so generally known from the common text-books that it is - unnecessary to dwell upon them.[32] Debt and credit, the scale on - the thermometer, longitude, latitude, the upward pull of a balloon - compared with the force of gravity, and the graphic illustration of - these upon horizontal and vertical lines--all these are familiar. - - "But the imaginary and complex numbers have been left enshrouded in - mystery in most text-books. The books say, _inter lineas_, 'Here is - sqrt(-1); it means nothing; you can't imagine it; the writer knows - nothing about it; let us have done with it, and go on.' Such is the - way in which the negative was treated in the early days of printed - algebras, but now such treatment would be condemned as inexcusable. - But there is really no more reason to-day for treating the imaginary - so unintelligently than for presenting the negative as was the - custom four hundred years ago. The graphic treatment of the complex - number is not to-day so difficult for the student about to take - up quadratics as is the presentation of the negative to one just - beginning algebra. - - "Briefly, the following outline will suffice to illustrate the - procedure for the complex number:-- - - 5 4 3 2 1 | 1 2 3 4 5 - |___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___| - | - - 0 + - - "1. Negative numbers may be represented in a direction opposite - to that of positive numbers, starting from an arbitrary point - called zero. Hence, when we leave the domain of positive numbers, - _direction_ enters. But there are infinitely many directions in a - plane besides those of the positive and negative numbers, and hence - there may be other numbers than these. - - "2. When we add positive and negative numbers we find some results - which seem strange to a beginner. For example, if we add +4 and -3 we - say the sum is 1, although the _length_ 1 is less than the length 4 - or the length -3; yet this does not trouble us because we have - considered something besides length, namely, direction; it is true, - however, that the sum of 4 and -3 is less than the absolute value - of either. This is seen to be so reasonable, however, from numerous - illustrations (as the combined weight of a balloon pulling up 3 lbs., - tied to a 4-lb. weight), that we come not to notice the strangeness - of it; graphically, we think of the sum as obtained by starting from - 0, going 4 in a positive direction, then 3 in a negative direction, - the _sum_ being _the distance from 0 to the stopping-place_. - - [Illustration: Graph of 1 multiplied by sqrt(-1) twice] - - "3. If we multiply 1 by -1, or by sqrt(-1) · sqrt(-1), or by sqrt(-1) - twice, we swing it counter-clockwise through 180°, and obtain -1; - hence, if we multiply it by sqrt(-1) once, we should swing it through - 90°. Hence we may graphically represent sqrt(-1) as the unit on the - perpendicular axis YY', and this gives illustration to - - sqrt(-1), 2[sqrt(-1)], 3[sqrt(-1)], ··· -sqrt(-1), -2[sqrt(-1)], - -3[sqrt(-1)], - - or, more briefly, ±i, ±2i, ±3i, ··· where i stands for sqrt(-1). - We therefore see that i is a symbol of quality (graphically of - direction), just as is + or -, and that -3 · 5i, i[sqrt(5)], etc., - are just as real as -3 · 5, sqrt(5), etc. It is impossible to look - out of a window -3 · 5 times as it is to look out -3 · 5i times; - strictly, one number is as 'imaginary' as the other, although the - term has come by custom to apply to one and not to the other. - - "4. The complex number 3 + 2i is now readily understood. Just as - 3 + (-2) is graphically represented by starting from an arbitrary - zero, passing 3 units in a positive direction (say to the right), - then 2 units in the opposite direction, calling the sum the - distance from 0 to the stopping-point, so 3 + 2i may be represented - graphically. Starting from 0, pass in the positive direction (to - the right in the figure) 3 units, then in the i direction 2 units, - calling the sum the distance from 0 to the stopping-place. - - [Illustration: Graphical representation of 3 + 2i as the hypotenuse - of a right-angled triangle with sides of 3 and 2i units] - - "Of course the question will arise as to the hypotenuse being the - sum of the two sides of the right-angled triangle. But the case is - parallel to that mentioned in paragraph 2; it is not the sum of - the _absolute values_, any more than is 1 the sum of the absolute - values of 4 and -3; it is the sum when we define addition for numbers - involving direction as well as length. - - "A simple illustration from the parallelogram of forces is often used - to advantage. - - [Illustration: Parallelogram of two forces +3 and +2i with - resultant OP] - - "Suppose a force pulling 3 lbs. to the right (+3 lbs.) and another - pulling 2 lbs. upwards (+2i lbs.); required the resultant of the two. - It is evident that this is OP, _i.e._, OP = 3 + 2i. - - "This elementary introduction to the subject of complex numbers shows - that the 'imaginary' element is easily removed, and that students - about to begin quadratics are able to get at least an intimation of - the subject. This is not the place for any adequate treatment of - these numbers: such treatment is easily accessible. It is hoped that - enough has been presented to render it impossible for any reader - to be content with the absolutely meaningless and unjustifiable - treatment found in many text-books."[33] - -[32] See Beman & Smith's "Elements of Algebra," p. 17. - -[33] For an elementary presentation of the subject, see Beman and -Smith's "Elements of Algebra," Boston, 1900. For a history of the -subject, see Beman and Smith's translation of Fink's "History of -Mathematics," Chicago, 1900, or Professor Beman's Vice-Presidential -Address before the American Association for the Advancement of Science, -1898, or the author's "History of Modern Mathematics," already -mentioned. - -257. The pedagogical value of mathematical instruction, as a whole, -depends chiefly on the extent to which it enters into and acts on -the pupil's whole field of thought and knowledge. From this truth -it follows, to begin with, that mere presentation does not suffice; -the aim must be rather to enlist the self-activity of the pupil. -Mathematical exercises are essential. Pupils must realize how much -they can do by means of mathematics. From time to time written work in -mathematics should be assigned; only the tasks set must be sufficiently -easy. More should not be demanded and insisted on than pupils can -comfortably accomplish. Some are attracted early by pure mathematics, -especially where geometry and arithmetic are properly combined. But a -surer road to good results is applied mathematics, provided only the -application is made to an object in which interest has already been -aroused in other ways. - -But the pupils ought not to be detained too long over a narrow round of -mathematical problems; there must also be progress in the presentation -of the theory. Were the only requisite to stimulate self-activity, -the elementary principles might very easily suffice for countless -examples affording the pupil the pleasure of increasing facility, and -even the delight arising from inventions of his own, without giving -him any conception of the greatness of the science. Many problems may -be compared to witty conceits, which may be welcome enough in the -right place, but which should not encroach on the time for work. There -ought to be no lingering over things that with advancing study solve -themselves, merely for the sake of performing feats of ingenuity. -Incomparably more important than mere practice examples is familiarity -with the facts of nature, and such familiarity renders all the better -service to mathematics if combined with technical knowledge. - -258. Even young children may very well busy themselves with picture -books illustrating zoölogy, and later with analyses of plants which -they have gathered. If early accustomed to this, they will, with some -guidance, readily go on by themselves. At a later time they are taught -to observe the external characteristics of minerals. The continuation -of the study of zoölogy is beset with some difficulties on account of -the element of sex. - - Though industriously debated, there is no field of education more - undecided both as to matter and method than nature work in the - grades. Some scientists would teach large amounts of well-classified - knowledge; others are content when they have secured a hospitable - frame of mind toward nature. If a love for flowers and birds can be - cultivated in children, the latter class are satisfied that the best - result has been attained. Thus a discussion arises as to which is the - more valuable, _attitude_ or _knowledge_. - - It is feared by some that any attempt to teach real science, even - of an elementary kind, will result in a paralysis of permanent - scientific interest. To this it is replied that a sentimental regard - for æsthetic aspects of nature insures little or no true scientific - interest. - - Both sides are, in large measure, wrong; for, though apparently - antagonistic in their aims, they make merely a different application - of a common principle, which, if not wholly erroneous, is at least - inadequate. Both parties assume that the end to be attained in nature - study is something only remotely related to the pupil's practical - life. One would present nature for its own sake as scientific - knowledge; the other would offer it for its own sake as a source of - æsthetic or other feeling. The scientist often assumes that to a - pupil a scientific fact or law is its own excuse for being. He thinks - there must be a natural, spontaneous response to such a fact or law - in the breast of every properly constituted child, so that, to imbue - the mind with the scientific spirit, it is only necessary to expose - it to scientific fact. - - Perhaps, unfortunately for the normal child, this view is somewhat - encouraged by the biographies of scientific geniuses. On the other - hand, those who hold the poetic view of nature assume that there must - be a native response to natural beauties in every child; so that - the true method is to expose him to nature's beauty, when rapture is - sure to follow. Unfortunately again for the pupil, this view is also - encouraged by the influence of the nature poets. The result is that - natural science is presented as an end in itself--in the one case as - scientific knowledge, in the other as the lovable in nature. - - While it may be admitted that a few children will respond now to - the one stimulus, now to the other, the great mass are not thrilled - with rapture at nature's beauty, nor are they fettered by scientific - interest in her laws. To become an object of growing interest to - children, nature must have a better basis than natural childish - delight in the novel, or reverence for scientific law. The first of - these is evanescent, the second feeble. - - We may agree with the scientist as with the poet, that both science - and poetic appreciation are desirable ends, but they cannot be - imparted to the childish mind by didactic fiat. - - If there is one service greater than another that Herbart has - rendered to education, it is in bringing clearly to our consciousness - the supreme importance of the principle of apperception, or mental - assimilation, as a working basis for educative processes. So long - as a fact or a principle or system of knowledge stands as an end - in itself, just so long is it a thing apart from the real mental - life of the child. Even a formally correct method of presentation, - should it even appeal at once to all 'six' classes of interest, will - fail to create more than a factitious mental enthusiasm. It is like - conversation that is 'made' interesting; it may suffice to lighten a - tedious hour, but it awakens no vital response. When, however, the - natural love of novelty or inborn response to the true is reinforced - by a sense of warm personal relationship, when the facts of forest, - or plain, or mine, or animal life flood the mind with unexpected and - significant revelations concerning either the present or the past in - close personal touch with the learner, then instruction rests upon - an apperceptive basis. Abstractions that before were pale, beauties - that were cold, now receive color and warmth because they get a new - subjective valuation that before was impossible. - - A sedate sheep nibbling grass or resting in the shade, a skipping - lamb gambolling on the green, are suitable objects of nature study. - Their pelts, their hoofs, their horns, their wool, are worthy of - note as scientific facts. A diluted interest may even be added by - recitation of the nursery rhymes about "Little Bo-Peep" and "Mary had - a Little Lamb." But these are devices for the feeble-minded. - - If the teacher can reveal to the pupil the function of wool in making - garments for the race, and can lead him to repeat the processes - by which, from time immemorial, the wool has been spun into yarn - and woven into cloth; if, at the same time, the influence of this - industry upon the home life, both of men and women, can be shown, the - study of the sheep becomes worthy the attention even of a boy who - can play foot-ball or of a girl who can cook. The literature of the - sheep is no longer infantile or fatuous. We have a gamut reaching - from Penelope to Priscilla. In the words of Professor Dewey: "The - child who is interested in the way in which men lived, the tools - they had to do with, the transformation of life that arose from the - power and leisure thus gained, is eager to repeat like processes - in his own action; to make utensils, to reproduce processes, to - rehandle materials. Since he understands their problems and their - successes only by seeing what obstacles and what resources they had - from nature, the child is interested in field and forest, ocean and - mountain, plant and animal.... The interest in history gives a more - human coloring, a wider significance, to his own study of nature."[34] - - The conclusion arising from this argument is that nature study - as an end in itself, or a thing apart from the real or imagined - experiences of the pupil, is but a faint reflection of what it may - become under a more rational treatment. In order of time, nature - study in the earliest grades may indeed rest upon the mere delight - of the childish mind in the new, the strange, the beautiful, and - especially in the motion of live creatures, and may be reinforced - by childish literature. When boyhood and girlhood begin, however, - then the industrial motive, first in the home environment, then of - primitive times, becomes the chief reliance for an abiding interest. - In the reproduction of primitive processes, there is of necessity - a historical element. When nature has attained a firm apperceptive - basis through imitation of primitive industrial processes, and has - obtained a historical background, then it may properly be further - reinforced by literary reference. The poetic value of nature will now - appeal to the mind with a potency that springs from inner life and - experience; scientific law will now have some chance of appealing to - the mind with something of the same reverence that Kant besought for - the moral law. The true order of appeal in nature study is therefore - as follows: For infancy, natural curiosity and delight in the - movements of living creatures; for the age of boyhood and girlhood, - imitation, real or imaginary, of processes depending upon natural - objects and forces, together with historical and literary reference; - secondarily, nature work may also appeal to youthful interest in - natural law or beauty. - -[34] Dewey, John, "The Aim of History in Elementary Education," -_Elementary School Record_, November, 1900, University of Chicago -Press. - -259. With the foregoing should be conjoined much attention to external -nature, to the changes corresponding to the seasons, and to means of -intercommunication. - -Under this head belongs, on the one hand, observation of the heavenly -bodies,--where sun and moon rise, how the latter waxes and wanes, where -the north star is found, and what arcs are described by the brighter -stars and the most conspicuous constellations. - -Here belongs, on the other hand, technological knowledge, acquired -partly through direct observation, partly through lessons in -descriptive physical science. Technology ought not to be considered -merely from the side of the so-called material interests. It furnishes -very important connecting links between the apprehension of the facts -of nature and human purposes. Every growing boy and youth should learn -to handle the ordinary tools of the carpenter as well as rule and -compasses. Mechanical skill would often prove far more useful than -gymnastic exercises. The former benefits the mind, the latter benefit -the body. With burgher schools should go manual training-schools, -which does not mean that the latter must necessarily be trade schools. -Finally, every human being ought to learn how to use his hands. The -hand has a place of honor beside language in elevating mankind above -the brute. - -The foregoing store of information also enters into the study of -geography; how, will appear in the next chapter. - - The soundness of the foregoing remarks is witnessed by the rapid - development of manual training-schools in the last decade, and the - almost universal desire, if not practice, of providing considerable - amounts of manual training for the pupils of the grammar grades. - The girls usually have some form of sewing and cooking, while the - boys have sloyd or other similar tool work in wood. The _rationale_ - of requiring girls to do carpenter work instead of the forms of - manual exercise that especially pertain to their sex is not yet - satisfactorily established. - -260. On the observation of the heavenly bodies is based popular -astronomy, which provides a test as to whether the mathematical -imagination has been properly cultivated. - -261. Elementary statics and mechanics will serve as an early -introduction to physics, which combines with the easiest portions -of chemistry. Long before physics is formally presented, it must be -foreshadowed by many things stimulating the attention. Notice is -directed to clocks, mills, the most familiar phenomena of atmospheric -pressure, to electrical and magnetic toys, etc. In burgher schools, -at least, so much must be said about buildings and machines as is -necessary to incite to further study in the future. The same holds for -the fundamental facts of physiology. - -262. As often as a new topic for study is introduced, it is important -to give prominence to some of the salient facts, and these must be -accurately memorized. Moreover, pupils need to have practice in exact -description. Where practicable, these descriptions are corrected by -actually looking at the objects themselves. - -Hasty and superficial observation of objects presented for inspection -always calls for severe criticism; else collections and experiments -become valueless. Nor should objects be shown too lavishly; pupils must -often be told beforehand what they will have to look for. Frequently -it may serve the purpose to employ successively good descriptions, -pictures, and direct observation. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=Geography= - - -263. As to geography, at least two courses may be distinguished. One of -these is analytic and begins with the pupil's immediate neighborhood, -the topography of the place, while the other starts with the globe. -Here only the former will be discussed, as the latter can be had -directly from good text-books. - - =Note.=--The usual method of taking the globe as the point of - departure would be less open to criticism, if, in order to render - the conception of the earth's sphericity more intelligible, - attention were directed to the shape of the moon, the observation - being carried on occasionally with the aid of a telescope. But - even if this is done, it still remains a blunder to substitute the - faint and vague idea of a huge ball for direct perception. Equally - injudicious is the plan of beginning with Portugal and Spain. - That spot where pupils and teacher are at the moment is the point - from which the pupils must take their bearings, and in thought - extend their horizon. It will never do to pass over the natural - starting-points provided by sense-perception. - - Had the note to this section been properly heeded, we should not have - had to wait for fifty years after Herbart's death before witnessing - the present rational methods of applying geographical science to - elementary education. It is the proud boast of the modern elementary - geography that it begins with a study of the pupil's actual - environment. The term _home geography_ has now become a familiar one. - It signifies that the pupil is taught to observe the geographical - elements as they exist in his own neighborhood. He studies hills, - watercourses, soil, woods, lakes, together with the industrial - phenomena that come within the reach of his investigation. Upon - this primary sense-basis he rears the structure of his geographical - knowledge. - -264. Geography is an associating science, and use must be made of -the opportunities it offers for binding together a variety of facts, -none of which should be allowed to remain isolated in the mind of the -learner. It is not the mathematical portion, supplemented and made -interesting by popular astronomy, that serves as the first connecting -link between mathematics and history (second course); even the -rudiments of geography may, on the basis of observation exercises, -furnish practice in the determination of triangles which occur on the -first maps used, although this step is not always necessary when once -some skill has been acquired in singling out features worthy of note. -(The determination of position by latitude and longitude is, for the -first course, as irrational as the action of a traveller in Germany -or France would be if he set about to put together the picture of the -places where he expects to remain, with the aid of their relation to -the equator and the first meridian.) - -Physical geography presupposes some knowledge of nature, and furnishes -the occasion for enriching that knowledge. Political geography -designates the manner in which man inhabits and uses the earth's -surface. It is the pedagogical aim of instruction in geography to -associate all this. - -265. The teacher must cultivate the art of narration; his accounts must -resemble those of a traveller. But the narrative should conflict with -the determination of the relative position of places (by grouping them -about one principal place, and in the case of more than one by the use -of triangles) as little as, in teaching history, the story of events -should conflict with the scheme of chronology. The two go together. The -narrative is to present a clear picture, and to this end requires the -support of a few fixed points in space. On the other hand, these points -should not remain isolated; they are to be connected by the lines of -the picture. - -266. It is not a matter of indifference how many unfamiliar names are -mentioned in one minute or hour. Nor is it immaterial whether they -are uttered before or after perception of the picture which the map -presents. The first requisite is that every map placed before the -pupils be conceived of as a country; three, at most four, names of -rivers, and the names of a few mountains are sufficient; completeness -is out of place here. The few names given provide ample opportunity -for fixing the position of notable points, both with reference to one -another and to the boundary lines of the country. - -Due prominence having been given to these geographical features, they -should then be connected, say with the aid of a blackboard, on which -they are roughly sketched one by one, and properly joined together -afterward. In the case of the sources and outlets of rivers, this may -be done by a line to indicate the course. If now the pupils have made -good previous use of their eyes, especially if they have noticed the -fall of brooks and rivers, and have observed the slope of the ground -in a particular region,--if they have not, the deficiency must be made -good first of all,--it will not be too early to pass on to a general -description of the appearance which the country under consideration -would present to a traveller. And now the time has come for a somewhat -fuller mention of the names of rivers and mountains, but these names -must at once be gone over several times by the pupils. Doing so will -reveal whether the list of new names has been made too long; it is -often largely due to carelessness in this respect, if the study of -geography proves barren or onerous. Next in order follow detailed -descriptions of particular wonders of nature, where there are such. -Attention is then given to some of the principal cities, mention -being made of the number of inhabitants. Here the determination of -relative location comes in again, and for this the self-activity of the -pupils is indispensable. Finally, human industry and art, so far as -they relate to the products of the country, together with the little -of political organization that pupils can grasp. The names of the -provinces should ordinarily be omitted from the first course. - - This section is suggestive of the old geography of the last half - century,--location, names, maps, the barren details of the science. - Geography is something richer than all this. The old geography was - political in the foregoing sense. The first break was in making it - physiographical, the last in making it social. Names as such are - nothing, and physical facts little more, but both become of value - as soon as they are brought into relation to man,--his life, his - work, his recreation. Geography is not essentially the location of - places, nor is it physiography, but it is a study of the essential - facts concerning the surface of the earth as they are related to man - himself; it is, in short, _human_ in the fullest sense. It gives a - concrete explanation of civilization; it explains the production, - the exchange, and, to some extent, the consumption of goods. It - contrasts countries, not so much by square miles, as by the number - of miles of railroads they possess. (The most momentous fact of - modern civilization is the railroad. Twelve billions of dollars are - invested in it in the United States alone. In view of these facts, - what shall be said of those recent geographies that keep the children - poring over primitive maps for years--maps without a suggestion of a - railroad in them? This is an illustration of how prone education is - to lag behind the progress of society.) - -267. The reviews, which should be frequent, must steadily work toward -a growing firmness of association between names and places. Each name -is to be referred to the place it designates; hence the sequence of -names must often be reversed, and the map looked over in all directions -and from all points of view. How far to go is determined in accordance -with individual capacity. From some, only what is absolutely essential -can be demanded; from others, much more, in order that they may exert -themselves properly. - -268. In the midst of other studies on which greater stress is laid, -geography is as a rule slighted by pupils and sometimes even by -teachers. This attitude merits severe criticism. Instruction in -geography may be reduced to a minimum, the first course even requires -this, but it should not be disparaged. With many pupils, geography -is the first study which gives them the consciousness that they can -learn as they are expected to learn. With all pupils, geography must -connect the remaining studies and must keep them connected. Without -it everything remains unstable. Historical events lack places and -distances; products of nature are without the regions where they are -found; popular astronomy, which is called upon so often to prevent -and dispel erroneous notions, is deprived of its very basis, and the -geometrical imagination of one of its most important incentives. If the -facts of knowledge are allowed to fall asunder in this way, instruction -endangers the whole of education. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -=The Mother-tongue= - - -269. There would be less controversy about language teaching if -existing differences in conditions were given proper attention. - -The most general distinction to make is that between understanding and -speaking. The distance between the two is a given factor at the time -when regular instruction begins. It is very great in some cases, and, -again, slight in others, according to individual aptitude and early -surroundings. - -270. First of all, one's language was acquired by hearing it spoken, by -receiving it from others, by imitation; it was refined or vulgar; it -was perceived accurately or indistinctly; it was imitated by organs, -good, bad, or indifferent. Little by little the imperfections of the -earliest stage are outgrown, where cultured persons set a daily example -and insist on correctness of speech. Sometimes, however, it takes years -to bring about such a result. - -271. Another factor, and one deeply rooted in individual temperament, -is the stronger or weaker impulse toward expression through language. -This fact elevates the language of each one above mere imitation; its -improvement must start from the thoughts which it seeks to express. -Striking progress of this kind often occurs during adolescence. - - The differences noted in this and the two preceding sections are - psychological, hence common to German and American children. The - problem of teaching American children their mother-tongue, assumed to - be English, is both harder and easier than to teach German to German - children. It is easier in that English is mostly uninflected, hence - unencumbered by nice distinctions in grammatical form. This same - fact, on the other hand, causes didactic difficulties, since most - teachers are at a loss as to what definite body of knowledge they - should or can impart that will train the child into a mastery of good - English speech. The last twenty years have seen a large number of - experiments on the part of authors in the effort to present a body of - information and exercises calculated to secure a good training in the - mother-tongue. These efforts have met with but partial success, owing - to the inherent difficulties of the subject. Many who can teach a - foreign language, where there is a movable fulcrum of difficulties to - be overcome, such as those found in inflection, or in the meaning of - foreign words, fail when confronted by a language that is practically - uninflected, and in which the words are easily understood. - - The old recourse was technical grammar. But this is an analytical - study, calculated to lead to apprehension of subtle meanings, rather - than to an instinct for correct form. Furthermore, the grammar cannot - be successfully studied until after the habits of speech are fairly - fixed. For these reasons, it bears much the same relation to living - speech that formal logic does to real thinking. Grammar makes the - mind keen to detect formal errors of speech, just as logic trains - one to detect fallacies in reasoning. - - The first important instrument for securing good English in the - early primary grades is narration by the teacher and repetition - by the children. This means, potent enough to form the speech of - any child whether from the slums or from the homes of those who - know no English, is rarely utilized up to the full measure of its - efficiency. Teachers are filled with the prepossession that they - must enable their pupils to write good English, forgetting that if - the mind is habituated to _think_ in good English first, the problem - of writing it is well-nigh solved. The requisites for successful - oral training in the mother-tongue are first, the selection of a - body of interesting and appropriate literature, and second, skill in - narration by the teacher. Given these two things, and we have the - first in great abundance, and every child will be able in a year - to give extended and correct speech within the range of his sphere - of thought to an almost unlimited extent. His tenacious memory for - forms frequently heard, together with his delight in repeating almost - word for word stories told in his presence, will produce astonishing - facility in correct speech. As much of this may be written as seems - best, but it is probable that there would not be great loss if a - child were not called upon to write a 'composition' before he is ten - or twelve years old. Could we be sure he would go through the high - school, formal writing might be postponed until he enters it. Not - much is ever gained by attempts to produce fruit before its natural - period for appearing. - - Upon the basis of this training in correct oral speech, the children - may begin, when nine or ten years of age, to have systematic language - lessons, which should be calculated to produce two results: first, a - facile use of the pen in recording thought, special caution being - given not to weary the mind and body too much by unduly extending - the length of the written exercises; second, an inductive approach, - through brief written exercises, toward the classifications and - distinctions of technical grammar. To be of use, this latter - requirement should be clearly understood. The method of approach - is purely synthetic. It consists in devices to enable the pupil - repeatedly to use a given construction, say a relative pronoun, until - the name and construction seem natural from use alone.[35] - - At the age of thirteen or fourteen the analytical study of grammar - should be begun. The essential thing here is that the pupil should - connect _words_ with the _ideas_ they express, and _sentences_ with - the _thoughts_ that give rise to them.[36] Seeing mental distinctions - clearly, he has small difficulty in their written or oral expression. - -[35] For extended illustration of this point, see the "Annotator's -Language Lessons," the Werner School Book Co., New York, Boston, and -Chicago. - -[36] This position is best exemplified by Mr. George P. Brown in his -"Essentials of English Grammar," the Werner School Book Co., New York, -Boston, and Chicago. - -272. Now such facts might seem to point to the conclusion that no -special periods of instruction are needed for the mother-tongue, or -at least not for language lessons alone. On the one hand, it might be -urged that cultured teachers will improve the language of their pupils -by their mere example, and by the occasional corrections which will of -course be necessary; while, on the other hand, the gradual progress of -mental development will shape the means of expression from within, to -the natural limits of individual capacity. But before accepting the -view here given, we need to remind ourselves, in the first place, that -for a long time the educated teacher is only imperfectly understood by -the uneducated listener, and that instruction is very much impeded if -each unusual turn of expression necessitates an inquiry as to whether -its meaning is clear. - -273. But this is not all. Language is also to be read and written. -Hence, it becomes a standing object for consideration, and, to one -whose knowledge of it is deficient, a source of embarrassment. -Accordingly, the first thing for the teacher to do is to show -analytically, on the basis of what has been read or written, how -the meaning would be lost or altered if either single words were -interchanged, or the inflectional endings (especially in German) were -incorrectly chosen. That the synthesis of sentences should follow next, -advancing step by step toward greater complexity, especially by means -of various conjunctions, may be assumed to be well understood. - -274. Now if all experienced equal difficulty in their reading and -writing, the language lessons designed as a remedy would commend -themselves in all cases, and might fittingly be carried to the same -extent everywhere. - -But here the widest divergence appears. Accordingly, where many are -being taught together, the teacher will seek to connect language work -with other subjects. Thus, in the course of the same recitation, -analytic instruction may be directed to the language side for some -pupils, while for others it may be given a far wider scope. Moreover, -the accompanying written exercises may have a corresponding diversity. - -275. The work of a recitation period will be further diversified by the -introduction of exercises in reading aloud, and in oral reproduction. -But never will it be possible to raise all pupils to the same plane of -proficiency. Here, above all, the determining power of individuality -must be acknowledged. - -276. For older boys and young men, the work in the mother-tongue will -consist partly in the study of excellent examples of the various kinds -of poetry and oratory, partly in the writing of essays. Such study -will prove the more profitable, the more perfect the models, the more -suitably they are adapted to the stage of culture already attained -by the student, and the more scrupulously the teacher refrains from -forcing upon him a literary taste not congenial to his nature. The -least promising of all written exercises are those in letter-writing. -Confidential letters every one can write, each in his own way. Best of -all are written exercises with a definite and rich store of thought -to draw from and admitting of various forms of treatment. Several may -then emulate each other in handling the same theme, and the process of -correcting will awaken greater interest in consequence. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -=Greek and Latin= - - -277. As is well known, the exposition of grammatical distinctions -and of the many turns of expression whereby language may become an -adequate symbolization of thought, gains very materially in clearness -by a comparison of the mother-tongue with Latin and Greek. Even with -boys not more than eight years old the attempt may be made to utilize -this advantage in the teaching of English, whether it has been finally -decided, or not, that they are to take the regular classical course. -Some boys learn, without much trouble, enough of Latin inflections to -enable them soon to translate short sentences from the mother-tongue -into Latin, and _vice versa_. - - The present plan in Germany is to have boys in the gymnasia begin the - study of Latin at the age of ten. The study is continued for a period - of nine years. Greek is begun three years later and continued for - six years. In the United States the prevailing plan is to postpone - the study of Latin until the pupil enters the high school at the age - of fourteen or fifteen. Good private schools and many city grammar - schools permit children to begin when some two years younger than - this. The Report on College Entrance Requirements made before the - National Educational Association in 1899 suggested the propriety - of extending the influence of the high school over the two highest - grades of the grammar school, making in effect a six-year high school - course. For students who expect to enter college or technical schools - this plan offers great advantages, since it permits the desirable - preparation to be distributed over six years instead of being - concentrated into four. - -278. This experiment will not, however, be long continued; since, with -the large majority of pupils, the difficulties accumulate so rapidly as -to lead unavoidably to the admission that the burden cannot be assumed -merely for the sake of incidental advantages. Moreover, the customary -view, handed down from the time of the Reformation, of the relation of -the classical languages to the sciences, and to the needs of the age, -is undergoing a change more and more apparent from decade to decade. -The labor implied in the study of the ancient languages now pays only -where talent combines with the earnest purpose to achieve the most -complete scholarship. - - This remark is prophetic of the enormous increase of instruction - in the sciences since Herbart's day, yet Latin has also enjoyed a - phenomenal increase in popularity in American schools. According to - the Report of the National Commissioner of Education the increase of - enrollment in high schools for the years between 1890 and 1898 was - 84 per cent, while the increase in the number of students pursuing - Latin was 174 per cent.[37] This surprising growth in the number - pursuing an ancient language can hardly be accounted for by increased - stringency in college entrance requirements in Latin, but must rather - be ascribed to a growing conviction among the people that the study - is indispensable in secondary education. That this must be the case - is seen by the attendant circumstances. In the first place, Latin has - become an elective in nearly all high schools; in the next place, - many rich equivalents are offered, both in science and in modern - languages; and finally our system of universal elementary education - has sent large classes of persons into the secondary schools that - have never previously been there. Yet the number of students electing - this study grows by leaps and bounds. - - =Note.=--(1) The assertion is often heard that the ancient - languages supply a permanent standard by which to judge of the - progress and the decay of modern languages; also that the ancient - classics must be regarded as furnishing the models for purity and - beauty in style. These and similar contentions are undeniably - correct, and carry the greatest weight, but they are unpedagogical. - They embody the absolute requirement, but not that which younger - pupils need for _their_ culture; and the large majority of those - who are fitting themselves for official positions cannot afford to - make themselves guardians of language and style. They must take - language as it is, and acquire the manner of expression which is - adapted to the world of affairs. Those higher cares belong to - authors, but no one is educated for authorship. - - (2) It is a familiar notion that the difficulty would diminish if - the ancient languages were begun later, that then the ability to - learn would prove greater. On the contrary, the older the pupil the - stronger the tendency of his thought-mass toward exclusion. Memory - work must be introduced early, especially where its usefulness - depends wholly on the acquisition of facility. It is essential to - begin early in order to make it possible to proceed slowly and to - avoid unpedagogical pressure. Four hours a week of Latin do not - hurt a healthy, bright boy, provided his other tasks are arranged - with pedagogical correctness. To put modern languages first would - be to put the cart before the horse. Useful enough, however, are - single French and English expressions relating to everyday life. - They will be of service in acquiring the pronunciation; but a few - phrases do not constitute the teaching of a language. - -[37] Bennett and Bristol, "The Teaching of Latin and Greek," Longmans, -Green & Co., New York, 1900. - -279. The manner of teaching the ancient languages, where they are -regarded as a matter of necessity or conventionality, no account being -taken of pedagogical considerations, need not be discussed here. It -must rather be admitted at once that no pedagogical means whatever -exist, whereby those who live with their interests strictly confined -to the present could be brought to acquire, with genuine sympathy, the -content of the works of antiquity. - - American teachers in estimating the value of Latin for the high - school student lay more stress upon training in the mastery of the - mother-tongue than upon the literary contents of the classical - writings. Professor Bennett in his treatment of "The Teaching of - Latin in the Secondary School,"[38] places in strong light the - splendid linguistic training a youth undergoes when taught by a good - teacher of this subject. In Germany, since Herbart's time, Professor - Russell tells us that the teaching of Latin has fluctuated between - two aims--"between that view which makes the classics a purely formal - discipline, and that other view which bases the worth of such a - study on the acquisition of humanistic culture, in contact with 'the - best thoughts of the best men of antiquity.' In the one case it is - considered of equal value as a means of preparation for all trades - and professions dependent on intellectual acumen; in the other case - it is of worth only for those who can practically apply the technical - knowledge thereby acquired, or may have sufficient leisure to enjoy - its æsthetic qualities. It is a question of making the ancient - literature a means to an end or an end in itself."[39] - - The dogma of formal discipline as a leading aim in education has - nowhere been more discredited than among Herbartian writers. A - judicious estimate of its truth and error is made by Professor - Hinsdale.[40] His main conclusions are as follows:-- - - 1. The degree to which power generated by education is general - depends upon the extent to which it energizes the mind, and - particularly the extent to which it overflows into congruent channels. - - 2. Such power is far more special than general; it is only in a - limited sense that we can be said to have a store of mobilized mental - power. - - 3. No one kind of mental exercise--no few kinds--can develop the - whole mind. - - 4. No study, no single group of studies, contains within itself the - possibilities of a whole education. - - On the other hand, American students rarely study classics long - enough to acquire much facility in mastering the literary contents of - the ancient writers. If, to considerable extent, the idea of formal - discipline is a delusive one, and the idea of a broad, humanistic - culture is an illusion of the American schoolmaster, we must justify - the study of Latin upon other grounds. The linguistic advantages - arising from it are obvious and decided. Among these stands first the - mastery of the mother-tongue, first through the comparative study - rendered necessary by translation, then by study of the roots of a - large part of the English vocabulary, and more remotely by the light - thrown by Latin upon history and institutional life. - - There is an advantage in Latin of great, though usually unmentioned, - importance, and that is its peculiar usefulness as an educational - instrument, in that it presents to the pupil a graduated scale of - surmountable difficulties. In this respect it is surpassed only by - mathematics. The difference between a good and a poor educational - instrument lies in this: a study offering few surmountable obstacles - is a poor educational instrument, for the pupil can find no fulcrum - upon which to use his mental powers. Thus he may stare at a natural - object when directed to observe its characteristics, but he finds - it hard to think when no thought problem is presented to him. But a - study that involves thought problems of a definite and solvable kind - is a good educational instrument, for the pupil finds something to - move and a fulcrum upon which he may exert his power. Translation - from an ancient language exercises the working powers of a student up - to their highest efficiency, for the translation of ten sentences may - easily provide the hardest kind of work for an hour; if ten lines do - not, then more lines will. When a foreign language ceases to offer - such surmountable difficulties, we leave it for something else that - does offer them. - -[38] Bennett and Bristol, "The Teaching of Latin and Greek," pp. 11-32, -Longmans, Green & Co., New York, 1900. - -[39] Russell, "German Higher Schools," Longmans, Green & Co., New York, -1899. - -[40] Hinsdale, "Studies in Education," pp. 46-61, Werner School Book -Co., Chicago, 1896. - -280. Pedagogically considered, every difference in the degree of vivid -realization of antiquity, in the degree of its correlation with -other main departments of knowledge, and in the extent to which a -disagreeable aftertaste of school-day drudgery is prevented, determines -the greater or smaller value to be ascribed to the knowledge acquired. -If the same realization could be secured without the ancient languages -and without the potency of early impressions, then the studies -mentioned in preceding chapters, which outline the work of burgher -schools, would leave nothing further to be desired; and the study of -the ancient languages in gymnasia would be a necessary evil, highly as -their incidental advantages are usually extolled. - -281. But languages alone give to a boy a picture neither of bygone -ages nor of men of the past; to him they are solely troublesome tasks -imposed by the teacher. Nor can golden maxims, fables, and short -narratives change his attitude. For even if these are well suited to -the youthful mind, they do not materially offset the aversion to the -work on stems, which have to be memorized; inflections, which must be -practised; and conjunctions, which are required for guidance in the -study of periods. - -Ancient history (243, 246) is the only possible groundwork for the -pedagogical treatment of the ancient languages. - -282. Now it is true that if Latin is begun first, Eutropius and -Cornelius Nepos suggest themselves as suitable authors for study, as -soon as the merest rudiments of Latin have been learned in connection -with instruction in the mother-tongue (277). And their use is not to -be entirely condemned, provided the teacher takes it upon himself to -make the past present through narration. But, as is well known, these -authors are after all very meagre, and, besides, where to look for a -path beyond them still remains an open question. - -283. The reasons which accord to Homer's "Odyssey" the preference -for early use are familiar.[41] They are patent to every one who -attentively reads the "Odyssey" with constant reference to the various -main classes of interest which teaching is to awaken (83-94). But the -question involved is not merely one of immediate effect, but also of -finding points of departure for the later stages of instruction. There -can be no better preparation for ancient history than to establish an -interest in ancient Greece by means of the Homeric story. At the same -time, the soil is being made ready for the cultivation of taste, and -for language study. - -To reasons of this kind, derived directly from the chief aim of all -teaching and opposed only by tradition (the conventional _doing_ of -the classics), the philologists will have to listen some time, if they -are not willing that, with the growing importance of history and of -the natural sciences, and with the increasing pressure of material -interests, the study of Greek in schools should be pushed into a corner -and suffer a reduction similar to that which has already taken place -in the case of Hebrew. (A few decades ago Greek came very near being -remitted for all but those intending to study theology.) - -Of course, the "Odyssey" possesses no miraculous power to inspire -those who have no talent whatever for language studies or do not take -them seriously; nevertheless, as many years of experience have shown, -it surpasses every other work of antiquity that might be selected in -definite pedagogical effect. Moreover, its study does not preclude -an early commencement of Latin (nor even of Greek, where that seems -necessary); only Latin cannot be pushed with the customary rapidity -at the same time; for the "Odyssey" requires an hour daily, and -grammatical and lexicological work besides. - -Experience has proved that the grammatical rudiments pertaining to -declension and conjugation must be worked over very carefully first, -although reduced to what is absolutely essential. Besides, the first -lessons in the "Odyssey" ought not to exceed a few lines each time; -and, during the first months, no accurate memorizing of words is to -be demanded. But farther on the acquisition of a vocabulary must be -vigorously insisted on; in fact, it becomes the pupil's most necessary -collateral work. By continued effort in this direction a considerable -portion of the whole stock of words is gradually acquired; the language -forms are supplied with the content to which they refer, and through -which they become significant. The teacher must know exactly, not only -when to hasten on, but also when to delay; for every perceptible gain -in facility is likely to betray pupils into some carelessness which -needs to be corrected at once. With good pupils it is not infeasible -to read the whole of the "Odyssey," since facility increases very -rapidly toward the end. Nevertheless, such work should not extend much -beyond two years; otherwise weariness sets in, or time is taken from -other things. In schools it will be well to assign the first four books -to one class, perhaps the class composed of pupils nine or ten years -old, the next class to begin with Book V. To determine exactly how -many books each class can work up thoroughly is unnecessary, as good -translations can be used to fill in the gaps that occur. The reason -for the division just made will be manifest at once upon a closer -inspection of the "Odyssey." Some books more advanced pupils may later -on read by themselves, but they should be expected to render an account -of what they are doing. It is not necessary at this stage to explain in -detail the rarer peculiarities of the Homeric dialect. Such things may -well be deferred until, later in the course, the study of Homer (of -the "Iliad") is resumed. The teacher who is afraid of the difficulties -connected with the plan presented should remind himself of the fact -that progress by any other path is equally beset with difficulties. -While at work on Homer, care should be taken to keep pupils from being -influenced simultaneously by such tales as those from the Arabian -Nights, because they blunt the sense of the wonderful. - -[41] These reasons apply in no way to the "Iliad," but only to -the "Odyssey." Moreover, it is presupposed that religious feeling -has been sufficiently awakened long beforehand. In that case the -mythical elements can do no harm whatever, for, in so far as they -are inconsistent with religious feeling, their effect is decidedly -repellent, and renders an excess of illusion impossible. - -284. Only two poets, two historians, and two philosophers need to be -mentioned to indicate the continuation of the course. Homer and Virgil; -Herodotus and Cæsar; Plato and Cicero. What authors should precede -these, or should intervene, or follow, may be left for circumstances -to determine. Xenophon, Livy, Euripides, Sophocles, and Horace will -probably always retain a place by the side of those mentioned; Horace -especially offers brief maxims, the after-effect of which the educator -should by no means underestimate. It is obvious that Virgil and -Herodotus are rendered much easier by taking up Homer first; on the -other hand, the return to Homer (to the "Iliad") during adolescence, is -as little to be omitted, if only on account of mythology, as the return -to ancient history for purposes of pragmatic study (250). Again, the -syntactical scheme of the ancient languages, which involves far greater -difficulties than do even inflections and vocabulary, is more easily -mastered by placing the poets before the prose-writers, because then -the pupils are not compelled to struggle with all the difficulties of -sentence structure at once. At any rate, it is desirable that, just -as the student's Greek vocabulary is built up from the "Odyssey," his -hoard of Latin words should be drawn from the "Æneid." The latter, -however, will hardly be read entirely, because it cannot be gone over -with nearly the same rapidity as the latter books of the "Odyssey," -when facility in reading has been attained. Cæsar's "Bellum Gallicum" -must be studied with exceptional carefulness, since its style comes -nearer to being a desirable first model for the student of Latin -than the style of the other authors in use. After this has been -accomplished, the strictly systematic teaching and memorizing of Latin -syntax, together with selected brief examples, is in order as one of -the main lines of work. In Plato several books of the "Republic," -especially the first, second, fourth, and eighth, constitute a -desirable goal. That Cicero should be revealed to young minds on his -brilliant side first, namely, as orator, need scarcely be mentioned. -Later on his philosophical writings become important; but many passages -require a fuller development of the subject-matter than is given by him. - -Cicero should frequently be read aloud, or rather declaimed, by the -teacher. An orator demands the living voice; the usual monotonous -reading by the pupils fails to do justice to him. As regards Tacitus -for school use, there is a difference of opinion. Generally speaking, -authors that say much in few words are particularly welcome, not -merely to the explaining teacher, but also to the responsive pupil. -The opposite is true of Cicero; he must be read rapidly in order to be -appreciated. - - For a full discussion of Latin texts to be read, the reader is - referred to Professor Bennett's chapters on "The Teaching of Latin - in the Secondary Schools,"[42] pp. 111-130. For a discussion of the - Greek texts, see Professor Bristol's exposition in the same volume. - -[42] Bennett and Bristol, "The Teaching of Latin and Greek," Longmans, -Green & Co., New York, 1900. - -285. Experience has long since shown how much or how little can be done -with students in Greek and Latin composition; and no method will ever -be devised which would induce earlier than at present that degree of -mental maturity which reveals itself in a good Latin style. So long as -gymnasium pupils are no more select than they now are, the majority, -so far as writing Latin is concerned, will begin something that will -never lead to successful performance. It would be better, instead, to -practise diligently that which can be achieved, namely, composition -during the recitation hour, with the assistance of the teacher, and, -afterward coöperative consideration of the appointed task, by the -pupils. This plan secures the advantage of set essays without the -disadvantage of innumerable mistakes, the correction of which the pupil -rarely remembers. Joint labor is interesting, and can be adapted to -every age. As a substitute for essays, abstracts in Latin of texts -previously interpreted are to be recommended, these abstracts to be -made at first with the help and afterward without the help of the book -in question. To abstract does not mean to imitate, and ought not to -mean that. To imitate Cicero requires Cicero's talent, and unless this -exists, the attempt to imitate, it is to be feared, will result in -cold artificiality. Even Cæsar is not so simple that his style could -be taught and learned. But many passages of Cæsar may be memorized; at -first short sentences, then longer periods, finally whole chapters. The -usefulness of this practice is attested by experience. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -=Further Specification of Didactics= - - -286. The more precise determination of the theory of instruction -depends on the nature of particular subjects of instruction, on the -individuality of the pupil, and on the external conditions of ethical -life. - -287. Where the goal to be reached is technical knowledge and -multiformity of scholarship, each branch of study asserts its claims -to thoroughness without regard to the rest. Such is the attitude of -the state, which requires many men with special training, together -constituting an efficient whole. Hence it disseminates knowledge and -establishes institutions of learning, without inquiring, save with -reference to future official appointments, who the individuals are that -avail themselves of the offered opportunities. - -288. The family, on the other hand, interested as it is in the -individual, must take the pedagogical point of view, according to -which every human being is to realize the best he is capable of. It is -essential that families should grasp this distinction, and accordingly -concern themselves, not with greatness of particular achievements, but -with the totality of culture possible for the individual. - -289. Closely connected with the foregoing is the difference between -interest and skill. Skill of various sorts can be obtained by force; -but it is of no value to general culture when the corresponding -interest is lacking. - -Insistence on this distinction is a sufficient answer to much -uncalled-for criticism and much unwarrantable assumption of superior -knowledge concerning the results of early stages of instruction. These -results, it is charged, are inadequate; if this or that had been -converted earlier into ability to do, greater progress would have been -made. But when interest has not been aroused, and cannot be aroused, -compulsory acquisition of skill is not only worthless, leading as it -does to soulless mechanical activity, but positively injurious, because -it vitiates the pupil's mental attitude and disposition. - -290. Whether the pupil's individuality will endure without injury the -pressure which drill in skilful performance would necessitate, is a -question which at times cannot be decided except by trial. Reading, -arithmetic, grammar, are familiar instances. - -291. The more perfect the instruction, the greater the opportunity it -affords for comparing the excellences and faults of the individuals -receiving it simultaneously. This point is of importance both to the -continuation of instruction and to training; to the latter, because the -teacher's insight into the causes of the faults which training has to -combat is deepened. - -292. The ethical life may attach itself to views embracing the -universe; it may, on the contrary, move within a very narrow range -of thought. Now while it is true that external circumstances will -usually set limits to instruction, its scope should nevertheless not -be narrower, but in every way wider than the realm of necessary, -everyday prudence. Otherwise the individual will always be in danger of -exaggerating his own importance and that of persons closely related to -him. - -293. It is more difficult, as a rule, to extend the mental horizon in -the direction of the past, than within the present. In teaching girls, -therefore, and children from the lower classes, greater prominence -is given to geography and whatever can be grouped about it than to -historical studies. Again, in cases where a shortening of the course of -study becomes necessary, it becomes well-nigh necessary to take account -of the difference in question. But, conversely, where the scope of -instruction is to be wide, the historical side, because more difficult, -must receive increased attention. - - - - -SECTION II - -THE FAULTS OF PUPILS AND THEIR TREATMENT - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=General Differentiation= - - -294. Some faults are inherent; they are a part of the pupil's -individuality. Others have sprung up in the course of time; and of -these, again, some have been influenced by the factor of individuality -more than others. Faults that the pupil commits are left out of -account for the present. With increasing years some of the inherent -faults grow, others diminish. For there is a continual change of -relation between that which man derives from experience,--between -those ideas which rise spontaneously, and those masses of ideas which -approach stability. There is, besides, an ever varying succession of -diverse reproductions. All this change is pervaded throughout by the -consciousness of one's own body (the original base of support for -self-consciousness) with respect not merely to its needs, but also to -its powers of motion and fitness for use. Again, the apprehension -of the similar is being multiplied; the ideas of things approximate -to general concepts. In addition, the process of judging is shaping -more and more the material presented; accordingly the manner in which -the individual analyzes and puts in order his knowledge becomes -gradually determined. On the one hand there is a growing confidence of -affirmation; on the other, questions remain, the answer to which is -given over to the future. In part they become transformed into longing -expectation. - -Upon all that has been enumerated, the physical organization of the -individual exerts retarding and furthering influences. The effect of -the body is seen in a certain physiological resistance to psychical -processes, and in strong physical impulses far more complex, no doubt, -than ordinary experience shows. - -295. Very frequently the fact forces itself upon us, that persons who -have passed through many vicissitudes of fortune can nevertheless be -recognized by individual traits that were already noticeable in youth. -Here a certain uniformity reveals itself in the characteristic way -and manner in which such persons involuntarily seize upon and work -up various impressions. In order to arrive at a just estimate of his -pupils, the teacher should observe this permanent element as early as -possible. - -Some always know the right moment and whither it calls them; they -always perform the nearest duty, and have their stock of knowledge -uniformly well in hand. Others bury themselves in thought, and give -themselves up to hopes and fears, to plans and projects: they live -in the past or in the future, resent being disturbed by the present, -and require time and effort to bring themselves back to it. Between -the former and the latter are found others, who do indeed note the -given and the present, not, however, to take it as it appears, but -rather to look beyond, for the purpose of spying what lies concealed -behind, or in order to move, displace, interfere, perhaps to distort, -ridicule, and caricature. With many the tendency described is merely -superficial. They play and tease--a common manifestation of youthful -animal spirits. Now the question arises: how much seriousness lies -back of the playfulness. How much depth beneath the animated surface? -Here temperament enters as a factor. The play of one with a sanguine -temperament comes to an end; but where sourness of temper is habitual, -there danger threatens, if, as commonly happens, sport turns to -earnest. Self-assertion plays a part also, manifesting itself in -various ways. It assumes one form in him who has confidence in his -strength, physical or mental, and another form in those who know their -weakness--with or without the mental reservation as to the future -employment of artifice or cunning, and so also with more or less -acknowledgment of the superior power or authority. Passionate playing, -on the whole, implies little seriousness; but may well indicate -sensitiveness and a propensity to freedom from restraint. Prudence in -sport is a sign of ability to take the opponent's point of view, and -to foresee his plans. Love of play is far more welcome to the teacher -than indolence, or languid curiosity, or gloomy seriousness; it is one -of the minor faults, if now and then work is forgotten over a game and -time wasted; the situation is more grave, sometimes very grave indeed, -where extravagance, or greed of gain, or secretiveness, or bad company -is involved. In such cases decided interference on the part of the -teacher is necessary. - -296. Since courage and rationality grow with increasing years, the -faults of mere weakness leave room for hope of improvement, although -there is need of an invigorating mode of life, invigorating physically -and mentally, and of counsel and reproof in particular instances. Under -continued watchful care weak natures improve much more than at first -thought would seem to be likely. - -297. Unsteadiness, continual restlessness, where they accompany good -health without being the result of external stimulation, are doubtful -indications. Here it will be well to look to the sequence of thoughts. -Where, in spite of variableness in general, thoughts are sound and -well connected, this restlessness is not a serious matter. The case is -worse when the opposite is true, especially when the vascular system -appears very irritable, and dreamlike reveries occur. Here the danger -of insanity is seen lurking in the distance. - -The appropriate treatment for such pupils consists in holding them -strictly to definite tasks, especially to those occupations that -compel a close observation of the external world, and in exacting the -performance of the work assigned, without failing to encourage whatever -is undertaken from choice. - -298. Sensual impulses and violence of temper are apt to go from bad to -worse as pupils grow older. Against these, careful supervision, earnest -censure, and the whole rigor of moral principles must be brought to -bear. Momentary ebullitions of passion, however, unless persistently -obstinate attempts are made to justify them, need to be handled gently, -that is, as evils calling for precaution and vigilance. - -299. The faults hitherto noted lie for the most part on the surface. -Others have to be studied as occasion offers in instruction. - -There are minds so dull that even the attempt merely to secure -connection with definite portions of such thoughts as they have -does not succeed. Easy questions intended to raise their ideas into -consciousness only increase the resistance to be overcome. They are -seized with embarrassment from which they seek to escape, sometimes by -a simple, "I don't know," sometimes by the first wrong answer that -comes to hand. Mental activity has to be enforced, yet remains feeble -at best, and it is only in after years, under pressure of necessity, -that they acquire some facility for a limited sphere. Others, whom one -would be inclined to call contracted rather than generally limited, -because by them reproduction is performed successfully but within a -narrow compass, exhibit a lively endeavor to learn, but they learn -mechanically, and what cannot be learned in that way they apprehend -incorrectly. These undertake, nevertheless, to form and express -judgments, but their judgments turn out to be erroneous; hence they -become first discouraged and then obstinate. Again, there are those -whose ideas cannot be dislodged, and still others whose ideas cannot -be brought to a halt. These two classes call for a more detailed -consideration. - -300. Among the various masses of ideas (29) some necessarily acquire -permanent predominance, others come and go. But if this relation -reaches full development and becomes fixed too early, the controlling -ideas no longer admit of being arrested to the extent necessary -for the reception of the new material offered by instruction. This -fact explains the experience that clever boys, notwithstanding the -best intentions to receive instruction, yet frequently appear very -unreceptive, and that a certain rigidity of mind, which in later -manhood would not occasion surprise, seems to have strayed, as it -were, into boyhood. No one should allow himself to be betrayed into -encouraging such narrowness by commendatory terms such as pertain to -strength and energy; just as little, however, should clumsy teaching -and its sequel, listless learning, be left out of account, as having no -bearing on this state of affairs. - -For, rather may it be assumed that the fault mentioned might have been -largely forestalled by very early instruction of all kinds, provided -such instruction had been combined with a variety of attractive -rather than of too difficult tasks. Where, on the other hand, mental -nervousness has once taken root, it cannot be eradicated by all the art -and painstaking effort of a multitude of teachers. When the questions -of a child, six years old let us say, give rise to the apprehension -that they proceed from a too contracted mental horizon, there should be -no delay about resorting to manifold forms of stimulation, especially -in the way of widening the pupil's experience to the greatest -practicable extent. - -301. On the other hand, it is not rare to find boys, and even young -men, in whose minds no one thought-mass attains to any very prominent -activity. Such boys are always open to every impression and ready for -any change of thought. They are wont to chat pleasantly, and to form -hasty attachments. Here belong those who learn easily and forget as -quickly. - -This defect, too, when once confirmed, resists all skill and good -intentions; strength of purpose, from the very nature of the case, -is out of the question. The situation varies in gravity, however, -according to the influences of the earliest environment. If these -proved distracting, the fault mentioned assumes alarming proportions -even in minds otherwise well endowed. But where some form or other -of necessary respect has been steadily at work, the youth will raise -himself to a higher plane than the boy gave promise of doing. Least -of all, however, can the teacher allow himself to be betrayed into -hoping for a future development of talent by superficial alertness, -combined, it may be, with droll fancies, bold pranks, and the like. -Talent reveals itself through persistent endeavor, sustained even under -circumstances little favorable to it, and not until such endeavor -clearly manifests itself is the thought of giving it support to be -entertained. - -The two faults under discussion may indeed come to light only in the -course of time; nevertheless, they are inherent faults, and can be -mitigated, to be sure, but not completely cured. - -302. Far easier to deal with are the erratic movements of energetic -characters capable of ardent enthusiasm. The mere thoroughness and -many-sidedness of good instruction, which emphasizes and aims to -effect rational connection and balance of mind, obviously supply the -corrective. - -303. Originally it would have been easier to have prevented those -faults which are due to the mismanagement or to the omission of early -government, instruction, or training. But with time, the difficulties -of a cure grow in a very rapid ratio. In general, it is well to note -that the teacher has every reason to congratulate himself, if, after -early neglect, there appear under improved treatment some belated -traces of those questions which belong to the sixth or seventh year of -childhood (213). - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Sources of Moral Weakness= - - -304. Under this head five main points come up for consideration:-- - - (1) Tendencies of the child's will impulses. - (2) Ethical judgments and their absence. - (3) Formation of maxims. - (4) Organization of maxims. - (5) Application of organized maxims. - -305. (1) Where training has not provided for occupation and for the -distribution of time, we must always expect to encounter an activity -which has no aim, and which forgets its own purposes. From such a state -of affairs arise a craving for liberty averse to all control, and, -where several pupils are grouped together, contention, either for the -possession of something or for the sake of showing off. Each wants -to be first; recognition of the just equality of all is deliberately -refused. Mutual ill-will intrenches itself and stealthily waits for an -opportunity to break forth. Here is the fountain head of many passions; -even those which spring from excessive sensuousness must be classed -under this first head, in so far as they are promoted by lack of -regulated activity. The havoc caused by passions is a pervading element -in the discussion of all of the remaining topics. - -306. (2) It is true that education usually counteracts the tendency to -indolence and to unruliness, not only by the use of the spur and the -bridle, but also through guidance in the direction of the proprieties; -giving rise to the thought "what will others say," it shows existing -conditions as mirrored in the minds of others. But when these others -are compelled to remain silent, or when the pupil is sure of their -partiality, or is exposed to their errors of judgment, the effect is to -vitiate rather than to arouse the ethical judgment. - -Nevertheless, calling attention to the judgment of others, and not -merely of particular individuals, is very much better than waiting -for the spontaneous awakening of ethical judgment. In most cases the -waiting would be in vain. Matters of ethical import are either too -close to the ordinary human being, and so, of course, to the boy left -entirely to himself, or they are too remote, _i.e._, either they have -not as yet passed outside the pale of affection or aversion, or else -they are already fading from the field of vision. In neither case can -an ethical judgment be formed with success. At any rate, it will vanish -before it can produce an effect. - -In order to reach those ethical judgments on which morality rests, the -child must see will images, see them without the stirring of his own -will impulse. - -These will images, moreover, must embrace relations, the single members -of which are themselves wills, and the beholder is to keep such members -equally in sight, until the estimate of value rises spontaneously -within him. But such contemplation implies a keenness and calmness of -apprehension not to be looked for in unruly children. Hence it may -be inferred how necessary training is--serious, not to say severe, -training. Unruliness must have been tamed and regular attention -secured. The preliminary condition fulfilled, it is further essential -that there shall be no lack of sufficiently distinct presentations of -the foregoing will images. And even then the ethical judgment often -matures so tardily that it has to be pronounced in the name of other -persons--persons higher in authority. - -307. In this connection the instances of one-sidedness of ethical -judgment must not be overlooked, such as occur when one of the -practical ideas stands out more prominently than another, or when that -which is outwardly proper rises above them all. - -308. (3) All desires persistently operative and productive of -fluctuating states of emotional excitement, therefore rightly called -passions, lead to experiential knowledge of the beneficial and the -injurious. The beneficial suggests frequent repetition in the future, -the injurious continued avoidance. Accordingly rules of life take -shape, and the resolution always to observe them is made. In other -words, maxims result. - -From simple resolution to actual observance is still, to be sure, a far -cry. But the claim for the universal validity of the rule, so that the -individual may regard it as applicable to others as well as to himself, -enters the mind far more directly by way of desires which point forward -to similar cases in the future, than it does under the guidance of -ethical judgments whose universal element is abstracted from given -single instances with difficulty. In fact, this difficulty is often so -great that the ethical judgment itself may be missed in the search for -the universal. - -309. Now, the promptness and loyalty of obedience to the sum total of -duties, once recognized as such and fixed through the maxims adopted, -are passed upon by the moral judgment. Correct moral judgment, -therefore, presupposes true insight into the value of will, which -insight again can be obtained only through the ethical estimate as a -whole. But in view of the circumstances pointed out a moment ago, we -must expect to come upon maxims that are false or at least inaccurate. -Under the latter head fall points of honor, social obligations, fear of -ridicule. - -310. (4) Maxims ought to form a unit, but in youth they are not fully -determined even singly, much less are they closely united into a -definite whole. The proviso of exceptions still clings to them, so also -that of future tests through experience. - -The maxims arising out of the desires and pleasures can never be -brought into perfect union with those springing from ethical judgments. -Accordingly the wrong subordination takes place, or, at all events, a -contamination of the latter by the former. - -311. (5) In the application of maxims more or less unified, the -volition of the moment is apt to prove stronger than the previous -resolves. Hence, man becomes only too prone to condone and fall in -with discriminations between theory and practice. The consequence is a -certain moral empiricism, which, if nothing else will do to justify its -disregard of moral law, falls back upon pious feelings. Plans of action -are formed without regard to maxims, but with the apparent compensation -of another kind of morally regular life. - -Such contempt of moral judgment gains ground and spreads ruin all the -more, the farther the ethical judgments on which morality must rest -fall short of the clearness that ought to mark them, and the cruder -the pupil's knowledge is of the antithesis between them and maxims of -utility or pleasure. - -312. The natural aid to the formation and union of maxims is the -system of practical philosophy itself. But the teaching of it involves -difficulties. One of them is that such marked differences occur among -young men in the relation of systematic exposition to the grade of -culture which they have attained. For observations of this nature, -religious instruction prior to confirmation provides an early -opportunity. How such instruction is to be given, is, of course, by -no means immaterial, but, after all, the moral sentiments, which it -gathers together and strengthens, must, in substance, already exist. - -Again, if the end sought were more strictly scientific form for the -moral sentiments, there would have to be ground for presuming that -the student is able to appreciate that form and has acquired skill -in the use of logical methods. The study of logic, together with -appropriate exercises, would obviously be a necessary preliminary step. -Prerequisites like these need to be borne in mind, especially in the -case of lower schools and all other institutions that do not, as a -rule, lead to the university. - -313. Erroneous systems of ethics, moreover, might occasion the adoption -of very absurd measures, concerning which, on account of the importance -of the subject, at least something has to be said. Everything would be -turned upside down, if, instead of bringing together and uniting maxims -under the concept virtue, the attempt were made to deduce from some one -formula of the categorical imperative a multiplicity of maxims and from -these, rather than from the original ethical judgments, the estimates -of will values, the final undertaking being, perhaps, to divert the -will itself by such operations. - -On the contrary, the will must early have been given such direction by -government and training, that its lines of tendency will of themselves -coincide as nearly as possible with the paths disclosed later, when -the pupil is being shown the way through ethical judgments. Those -beginnings of evil noted above (305) must not be permitted to appear at -all, for their consequences usually prove ineradicable. But even so, it -is not certain that a way can be hewn through the errors of others to -truer judgments. When, however, both ends have been gained, experience -and history and literature must next be called in, in order to show -clearly the confusion into which the maxims based upon pleasure and -passion plunge human beings. Not until now has the time come for more -or less systematic lectures, or for the study of suitable classical -writers. Lastly, there will still be need of frequent appeals to moral -obedience, and it will be found necessary to reinforce these appeals by -reflections of a religious character. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=The Effects of Training= - - -314. - - A. Training prevents passions in that it:-- - (1) satisfies needs, - (2) avoids opportunities for violent desires, - (3) provides employment, - (4) accustoms to order, - (5) demands reflection and responsibility. - - B. Training influences the emotions in that it:-- - (1) checks violent outbreaks, - (2) creates other emotions, - (3) and supplements self-control. - - C. Training impresses the courtesies of life (counteracts bad - manners), consequently:-- - (1) the deportment of individuals is made approximately uniform; - (2) the number of possible points of social contact becomes much - greater than where strife and contention rule; - (3) while the development of one or the other individual is - checked, the more important energies are not stifled, provided - excess of severity be avoided. - - D. Training makes cautions, for:-- - (1) It restricts foolhardiness, - (2) It warns against dangers, - (3) It punishes in order to make wiser, - (4) It observes and accustoms the human being to the thought of - being observed. - -315. Looked at as a whole, these obvious and familiar effects of -training show at once that, generally speaking, its power to lessen -evil is very great, and that it is capable of effectively acting upon -the interrelations of various masses of ideas. But they suggest also -the presence of danger. Training, by driving evil from the surface, may -give rise to clandestine deeds. - -316. When this happens, the relations between teacher and pupils grow -increasingly abnormal, since secret practices become general and -concerted, and the pupils assume a studied behavior in the presence of -the teacher. - -The consequences are well known:--Inexorable severity in dealing with -concealed offences when discovered; great leniency in the case of open -transgressions; recourse to the machinery of supervision, often even to -secret watching, in order that the system of concealment may not get -the better of education. - -317. It lowers the dignity of the teacher to take part habitually -in a competition between spy and concealers. He must not demand to -know everything, although he ought not to allow his confidence to be -victimized by clumsy or long-continued deception. - -Such difficulties, however, only make it more intensely necessary -that the foundation of education be laid during the earliest years, -when supervision is still easy, and the heart is reached by formative -influences with greater certainty than ever afterward, and that, if -possible, families should not for any length of time lose sight of -their own members. - -Ethical and moral judgments can be simulated; the finest maxims and -principles may be learned by rote; piety may be put on as a cloak. -Unmask the hypocrite, however, and turn him out, and, forthwith, he -plays his game over again elsewhere. Nothing remains but recourse to -severity which deters, and constant occupation under close supervision -in another quarter, in order that he may get away from the hiding -places of his misdeeds. Sometimes banishment is capable of bringing -about improvement. - -318. The will is most directly tractable in social relations, where it -appears as common will. In infancy, the child, wholly devoted to his -mother, is manageable through her; at a later period training is surest -of success when it promotes attachments among the young and carefully -fosters the seeds of goodness. The social ideas, purified by teaching, -must gradually be added. - -319. But as far back as boyhood, factions spring up and exclusive -sets are formed, facts which the teacher cannot permit to elude his -vigilance. - -When a kind of authority is granted to some older and tried pupils -over those younger and less mature in judgment, the former become -responsible; but the latter are not on that account relieved of all -reflection on their own part, nor are they obliged to submit to every, -though plainly unreasonable, demand of the former. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=Special Faults= - - -320. First of all it is necessary to distinguish between those faults -which the pupil commits and those which he has. Not all faults one -commits are direct manifestations of those he possesses; but those -which are committed repeatedly may grow permanent. This truth must be -made clear, and must be impressed upon the mind of the pupil to the -full extent of his powers of comprehension. - -321. In the case of false steps caused from without by unnoticed -pitfalls, or made in spite of a firm resolve to the contrary, the pupil -is himself usually frightened by what he has done. If so, all depends -on the gravity of his offence as compared with the degree of his horror. - -There is a host of minor faults, blunders, and even acts resulting in -damage, which tax the patience of the teacher severely; but it would -imply a mistaken conception of the difficulty of moral education, if -he should repel the frankness of his pupils by harsh treatment of such -offence. Frankness is too essential a factor to be sacrificed; once -gone it will hardly ever wholly return. - -322. But the first lie uttered with evil intent, the first act of -theft, and similar actions positively detrimental to morality or -health, have to be dealt with severely, and always in such a way that -the pupil who thought he was permitting himself a slight fault, is made -to experience most thoroughly both fear and censure. - -323. Serious treatment of a first offence is demanded also where pupils -try to see how far they may safely disregard authority and command. -It is important, however, not to overestimate the intention of these -attempts; important also to exhibit strength, but not anger. Yet -there are cases where the teacher must seem to act with some warmth, -because the necessary treatment, if combined with coldness, would only -intensify bitterness and cause pain an inordinate length of time. But -very likely as much feeling as is expedient will show itself upon -simply laying aside the assumed coldness. - -324. On the restoration of perfect order after a period during which -government and training were lacking, a large number of faults will -disappear of themselves, and accordingly do not require to be combated -one by one. Respect for order, and incentives sufficiently strong to -regular activity, are the main things. - -325. Faults which the pupil seems to possess are often only the -borrowed maxims of the society which he hopes to enter. Here it becomes -the business of education to set him right, if possible, and to -elevate his view of human relations, in order that he may disdain the -false appearances he before held in esteem. - -326. Faults which an older pupil actually possesses rarely occur -singly. Moreover, they are seldom fully disclosed; their appearance is -determined by a prudent regard for circumstances. During the period of -education such faults can, indeed, be largely prevented from growing -worse, but the radical improvement of those who are secretive from -prudence is rarely to be thought of before they have become more -prudent still, too proud for concealment, and more susceptible to the -true estimate of moral values. - -Where older boys and young men are found to possess unused talents, and -where instruction can be so arranged as to develop them, there is some -prospect of supplying a counterbalance to those habits which have been -contracted. But, in general, efforts looking toward a lasting reform -are successful only when made at an early age. At all events, where -there is much to amend, the feeling of dependence on strict training -must be kept alive for a long time. - -327. More success is likely to attend the endeavor to correct those -faults which are not tolerated within the social class of which the -pupil regards himself a member. Two factors determine the proper mode -of procedure: the importance of making the pupil acquainted with the -worthiest side of his social group, and, on the other hand, the -unavoidable necessity of causing him to see its less noble features in -case he discovers in it free scope for his inherent faults. - -328. Here the pupil's capacity for education, as well as the limits -of that capacity, are brought home to the teacher. As boys approach -manhood, they let birth and external circumstances designate for -them that class of society to which they will belong. The class -defined, they seek to acquire its form of life, and to get into its -main current. On the way thither they accept and take along so much -of higher motives, of knowledge and insight, as, on the one hand, -instruction offers and training favors, and as, on the other hand, -the individuality of each one, which the earliest impressions have -further determined, is ready to assimilate. Those are rare exceptions -who, through the development of an absorbing interest of some kind, -in religion, or science, or art, have become less susceptible to the -attractive force of their social class. Their course has been marked -out by the instruction which induced the absorption; henceforth they -are self-actively engaged in the pursuit of whatever accords with the -end in view, and accept only a small part of what is presented to them. - -329. Specific forms of a pupil's attitude toward society, especially -the relative prominence in his mind of state or family relations, will -have to receive due consideration in marshalling motives to counteract -particular faults. Indeed, the same is true of the appeal to those -motives through which it is sought to establish a preponderance of -worthier endeavor over moral imperfection in general. - - - - -SECTION III - -REMARKS ON THE ORGANIZATION OF EDUCATION - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=Home Education= - - -330. On discovering that his own efforts encounter impediments, the -individual teacher might easily come to think that society could -do everything, if it only would, and if it possessed the necessary -insight. Further reflection, however, reveals the existence of -difficulties peculiar both to state and family. - -331. The state needs soldiers, farmers, mechanics, officials, etc., and -is concerned with their efficiency. Its attitude toward a large number -of persons, whose existence as individuals has significance only in a -narrow sphere, is, in general, far more that of supervision designed to -prevent the harm they might do, than one of direct helpfulness. He who -is able to render competent service receives preferment; the weaker has -to give way to the stronger; the shortcomings of one are made good by -another. - -332. The state applies its tests to what can be tested, to the outward -side of conduct and of knowledge. It does not penetrate to the inner -life. Teachers in public schools cannot penetrate much farther; they, -too, are more concerned with the sum total of knowledge imparted by -them, than with the individual and the way in which he relates his -knowledge to himself. - -333. To the family, however, no stranger can make up for what one -of its members lacks; to the family the inner condition becomes so -manifest, and is often felt so keenly, that the merely external does -not satisfy. It is obvious, therefore, that moral education will always -remain essentially a home task, and that the institutions of the state -are to be resorted to for educative purposes only with a view to -supplementing the home. - -But on closer inspection it is found that family life is very often -too busy, too full of care, or too noisy, for that rigor which is -undeniably required both for instruction and for morality. Luxury and -want alike harbor dangers for youth. Consequently families lean on the -state for support more than they ought. - -334. Private institutions as such do not possess the same motive power -as either state or family, and are seldom able to make themselves -independent of the comparisons to which they are exposed, because of -the fact that they are expected in one case to take the place of the -state schools, and in another that of the family. - -Nevertheless, sturdy minds which do not require the emulation obtaining -in schools can be advanced more rapidly, and instruction adapted -more easily to individual needs, than in public institutions. As for -training, moreover, the evils that may spring from environment can be -prevented more successfully than is possible in many families. - -If the institutions in question could choose from among many teachers -and many pupils, they might, under otherwise favorable circumstances, -be able to achieve great results. But the fact of a picked set of -pupils alone shows how little the whole need of education would be -met. Besides, even those that were chosen would bring with them their -earliest impressions; they would incline toward the social conditions -for which they believe themselves to be destined; the faults of -individuality (294 _et seq._) would cling to them, unless such faults -were recognized before the selection, and were avoided by exclusion. - -335. As much as possible, then, education must return to the family. -In many cases private tutors will be found to be indispensable. And of -instructors excellently equipped as to scholarship, there will be the -less lack, the better the work done by the gymnasia. - -It must be noted, also, that instead of being the most difficult, the -most advanced instruction is the easiest of all, because imparted with -the least departure from the way in which it was received. People are -therefore mistaken when they assume that private tutors are capable -of furnishing an equivalent only for the lowest classes in gymnasia. A -far greater difficulty lies in the fact that even the most skilful and -active tutor cannot give as many lessons as a school provides, and that -accordingly more has to be left to the pupil's own efforts. To be sure, -this is exactly the mode of instruction which suits the bright student -better than one that must accommodate itself to the many, and which on -that account must progress but slowly. - -336. But home education presupposes that sound pedagogical views have -been arrived at in the home, and that their place is not occupied -by absurd whims or half knowledge. (Niemeyer's famous work, "The -Principles of Education and of Instruction," is intelligible to every -educated person, and has been widely known for many years.) - -337. The necessity of sound pedagogical knowledge in the home becomes -all the more urgent where teachers, private or public, change -frequently--whereby inequalities of instruction and treatment are -introduced which need to be corrected. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=Concerning Schools= - - -338. The school system and its relations to local authorities, on the -one hand, and to the general government, on the other, form a vast and -difficult subject involving not merely pedagogical principles, but also -such aims as the maintenance of higher learning, the dissemination -of useful information, and the practice of indispensable arts. In -university lectures a few words on such topics suffice, since young -men who accept a school position assume, at the same time, obligations -which for a long time to come prescribe for them the path they must -follow. - -339. They must, in the first place, consider the character of the -school in which they are to instruct. The school programme provides -them with information concerning the scope of the curriculum, the -established relations of the branches of instruction to one another, -and the various stages in each subject. The teachers' conference -affords them an insight into multiplex relations to authorities, -parents, and guardians, and to the pupils, also relations leading to -coöperation, more or less perfect, on the part of the teachers. The -whole of the educational effort directed upon younger, intermediate, -and older pupils is presented in one view; it is known also where the -pupils come from, with what kind of preparation, and where as a rule -they go upon leaving the school. - -340. It must obviously make a vast difference whether pupils look -forward to the university, or whether the gymnasium is filled with boys -who do not intend to pursue higher studies; whether a burgher school -sets a final examination to mark the stage of general culture to which -the school is expected to advance the pupils, or whether the pupils -enter and leave without well-defined reasons according to what seems -best to their respective families; whether an elementary school is -conducted merely as an institution preparing for gymnasia or burgher -schools, or whether its course provides for the suitable education, -during his whole boyhood, of the future artisan, etc. - -The American school system possesses this great advantage over that -of Germany,--it has an educational ladder planted in every elementary -school upon which any child from any social class may mount as high as -his ambition incites, or his means and ability permit. It is the only -suitable system in a democracy, where opportunity should be open to -all. Even to obtain greater perfection than the German school system -has ever attained, a democratic nation cannot afford to impair its -present organization, in so far as it makes advancement possible to -every aspiring soul. - -341. In each case the official activity entered upon must adjust itself -properly to the whole, the outlines of which are given. These determine -the proportion and the subdivision of the store of learning to be kept -ready for use, the degree of confidence to be shown to pupils as to -knowledge already acquired, and the manner in which they are to be -addressed. It is important that the teacher should appear before his -class adequately prepared and with confident self-possession, that he -should look about attentively at every one and make each pupil feel at -once that it would not be easy for him to undertake anything without -being noticed. - -342. The questions to be put to the pupils need to be formulated -clearly and concisely, and they must follow each other in easy -sequence. The answers must be corrected and, when necessary, repeated, -in order that all may hear them. No pause should be unduly prolonged; -no explanation to the weaker pupil should be allowed to become -oppressively tedious to the more advanced. Those who are at work -at the moment must be assisted, but ought not to be disturbed by -much interrupting talk. The current of thought is to be invited and -accelerated in all, but not hurried, etc. - -Such requirements instruction will meet with greater or less -difficulty, according as classes are small or large and the inequality -of pupils great or slight. - -343. In the assigning of work the capacity of each pupil must be taken -into account as much as possible, in order that no one may surrender to -ill-humor and discouragement on account of excessive demands, nor any -one permit himself carelessly to abuse a task too easy for him. - -344. Inequalities of division resulting from rearrangements of classes, -or other changes, must be pointed out to the authorities as clearly -as possible, for the purpose of urging a more even distribution and a -reduction of excessive numbers. - -345. In the course of the gradual extension of such efforts many a -defect will come to light. It may be found, for instance, that the -school is not a whole, because of the lack of a competent teacher for -an important subject, or because of marked inequalities of knowledge -and culture due to the preparatory schools, or because the school (such -as those in small towns) follows the curriculum of a gymnasium while -its real aim is supposed to be that of a burgher school, etc. - -346. Reports of such single defects will as a rule lead only to -correspondingly partial improvements in the system and to relief from -the most onerous perplexities, since it is seldom found possible to -organize the system of a whole province at once in such a way as to -make one harmonious whole. - -347. But in case comprehensive reforms of the school system were -undertaken, it would be necessary not merely to tolerate great -multiformity, but even to create it purposely. For division of labor -is in all human performance the right path to better things; and the -preceding discussion must have shown with sufficient clearness how much -depends on a more discriminating segregation of pupils. - - - - -INDEX - - - A, B, C, of Perception, 253. - Absorption and Reflection, 66. - Action, clandestine, 315. - Action and Rest, 156. - Administrative System, 15. - Adolescence, and obedience, 161; - bibliography for, 231. - Æsthetics, 93. - Affection, 24. - Algebra, history of, 255. - Alertness of mind, superficial, 301. - American History _vs._ that of Greece and Rome, 241. - Analytic instruction, definition, 106; - first stages of, 111; - other forms of, 117; - with children, 214. - Ancient Languages, their use as employment, 98; - labor of mastering, 103. - Apperceiving attention, capacity for, 129. - Application, 67; - a stage of method, 70. - Approbation, 151. - Arguing with children, evils of, 164. - Arithmetic, with boys, 223-224. - Arranging of objects, 215. - Arrested development, 171. - Art of narration, 76. - Arts, 251. - Assistance, gradual withdrawal, 204. - Association, 67; - promoted by conversation, 69. - Athletics, over-valuation of, 169. - Attention, divided, 63; - forced and spontaneous, 73; - primitive and apperceiving, 74. - Authority, 53-163; - delegated, 319. - Aversion, 24. - - - Bad conduct of adults, 187. - Baldwin, quoted, 168, 195. - Barrenness of text-book method, 243. - Barriers to education, 5. - Bennett and Bristol, "The teaching of Latin and Greek," 279. - Bible stories, 234. - Biblical stories _vs._ Mythology, 237. - Boundary between boyhood and adolescence, 217. - Boyhood, boundary between, and adolescence, 217. - Brown, George P., 271. - - - Capacity for education in children, 33. - Caprice of will, 1, 3. - Categorical imperative, not the true source of maxims, 313. - Censure, 151. - Character, development of, 64; - objective side of, 143; - subjective side of, 143; - strength of, 147. - Cheerfulness, social, 211. - Children, government of, 45-55. - Childhood, 203-216. - Child study, 33, 34. - Choice, content of, 167; - of subject-matter, 95. - Choosing, 167. - Chronology in history, 240. - Clandestine action, 315. - Classical _vs._ scientific education, 85. - Classification of interests, 83; - how to provide for, 135. - Clearness, 67. - Combats between teacher and pupils, 163. - Commands, sweeping, 48. - Committing to memory, 81. - Communion, 232. - Comparative study, 89. - Complication of ideas, 30. - Composition, true nature of, 123; - in Latin and Greek, 285. - Concealed offences, severity for, 316. - Concert work, 69. - Conduct, becoming, 137. - Conferences, teachers', 339. - Confirmation, 232. - Conjunctions, children's use of, 31. - Consequences, discipline of, 157. - Consistency of action, 174. - Contempt of moral judgment, 312. - Contention, why it pleases children, 183. - Continuity of education, 7. - Contrasts in pupils, 28. - Control, restlessness under, 305. - Conversation, 67. - Corporal punishment, 51. - Correlation of studies, 65; - limits of, 219. - Courage, 296. - Culture, Dogma of Formal, Hinsdale, 279. - Cynics, 83. - Cyrenaics, 83. - - - Dates, 247. - Delegated authority, 319. - Demonstrations, 256. - Depression and elevation, 156. - Desire and passion, 176; - bodily, 177; - gratification of, 155. - Determining influence of training, 167. - Dewey, Dr. John, 38, 63, 73, 150; - and McLellan, 253. - Differences, individual and sex, 219. - Discipline, social basis of, 55; - of consequence, 157. - Diffusion of thought, 35. - Disorder as index of failure, 55. - Disposition, cheerful, 137. - Divided attention, 63. - "Dogma of Formal Culture," Hinsdale, 279. - Dörpfeld, 70. - Drudgery _vs._ work, 63. - Duel, 13. - Dulness, 299. - - - Ease of government, 54. - Easy before the difficult, 127. - Eckoff, Wm. J., 254. - Educability of pupils, 1. - Education according to age, 195-231; - first three years, 195-202; - from four to eight, 203-216; - boyhood, 217-226; - youth, 227-231. - Education as home task, 333. - Educational bookkeeping, 50. - Educative instruction, 59, 100; - value in fixing curriculum, 100. - Election, basis of, 65. - Electives, 89. - Elevation and depression, 156. - Employment, the foundation of government, 46; - for children, 56. - Endurance, 154. - English schools, effect on character of boys, 183. - Environment, influence of, 5, 55; - of pupils, 94. - Equilibrium of ideas, 75. - Equity, definition, 13. - Erratic mental movements, 302. - Estrangement and its removal, 66. - Ethical Basis of Pedagogics, 8-19. - Ethical judgment, 25. - Ethical life, range of, 292. - Ethics, the goal of education, 2. - Examination _vs._ review, 117. - Experience, limits of, 110. - Explication, 67. - Expulsion, 52. - Evil, exclusion of, 149. - - - Faculties, 20, 21, 22, 23; - names for, 27. - Family, its interest in the individual, 288; - its lack of vigor, 333. - Fatalism, 1, 3. - Fatigue, produced by instruction, 70. - Favoritism, 184. - Faults of children and their treatment, 294-329; - general differentiation, 294-303; - sources of moral weakness, 304-313; - effects of training upon, 314-319; - special faults, 320-329; - habitual, 326; - minor, 321; - committed _vs._ faults possessed, 320. - Faust, 83. - First offences, treatment of, 323. - Fiske, method of using text-books of history, 247. - "Five windows of the Soul," 37. - Fixation of ideas, premature, 218. - Formal Culture, Dogma of, Hinsdale, 279. - Formal steps, 67. - Frankness, lack of, 26; - need of, 322. - Freedom and restraint, 156. - Friendliness, with children, 211. - - - Games, the supervision of, 178; - coöperative, 178. - General notions, definition, 30. - Generalizations, 92. - Gentle measures, 43. - Geography, 263-268; - home geography, 263; - an associating science, 264; - narration in, 265; - the old _vs._ the new, 266; - reviews in, 267. - Geographical aspects of history, 245. - Geographical _vs._ historical studies, 293. - Geometry, advantages of association, 102. - Good will, definition, 11; - in children, 206; - two aspects of, 185. - Golden rule, 148. - Goldsmith on the moody teacher, 166. - Government of children, 45-55. - Grading, 344-345. - Grammar, amount to be given, 130. - Greek and Latin, 277-285; - time for beginning, 277-278; - manner of teaching, 279. - Greek and Roman history, priority of, 246; - _vs._ American history, 246. - Greek, authors to be used, 283; - relation of, to religious impressions, 233. - Groups of ideas, 29. - Gumplowicz, 5. - Gymnastic exercises, excessive, 132. - - - Harris, Dr. Wm. T., 37, 143. - Harmony of insight and volition, 9. - Heavenly bodies, observation of, 259. - Herbert Spencer, 85, 157. - Herodotus, stories of, 243. - Higher education, the comparative study of branches, 89. - Higher _vs._ lower schools, 340. - High school, six-year course in, 103. - Hinsdale, "Dogma of Formal Culture," 279. - History, 239-251; - prevailing error of young teachers of, 239; - American _vs._ Greek and Roman, 241; - mediæval, 249; - modern, 250. - Historical instruction, a branch of education, 37. - Home education, 330-337. - Home work, not a saving of labor, 123. - Homogeneity of pupils, 112. - Honor, standards of, 169; - a feeling of, 223. - _Humaniora_ _vs._ _realia_, 99. - - - Ideas, groups of, 29; - their source, 36; - equilibrium of, 75; - degree of strength, 102. - "Iliad" and "Odyssey," 283. - Imaginary and complex numbers, 256. - Imagination, 22. - Incapacity, feeling of, in children, 216. - Inclinations _vs._ principles, 193. - Individuality, modification of, 41; - differences of, 54. - Individual traits, permanency of, 295. - Indolence of youth, 227. - Inequalities, correction of, 60. - Infancy, 195-202. - Inherent faults, 294. - Inner freedom, aspects of, 187. - Instability of ideas, 301. - Instruction, 56-135; - relation to government and training, 56-61; - aim of, 62-65; - conditions of many-sidedness in, 66-70; - conditions determining interest in, 71-82; - as information giving, 35; - and rudeness, 35; - in relation to pupils' ideas and disposition, 36; - branches of, 36; - its good beginning, 105. - Insertion _vs._ continuation, 129. - Insight, definition, 8; - harmony of with volition, 9. - Intercourse, social, 78. - Interest, conditions of, 71-82; - main kinds of, 83-94; - many-sidedness of, 62; - direct and indirect, 63; - _vs._ effort, 63; - bearing of on virtue, 64; - classification of, 83; - not sole guide to selection of studies, 135; - compared with skill, 289. - Inventions, 251. - Irritability, 297. - - - James, quoted, 175. - Judgment, 23; - of moral quality of actions, 9; - ethical, 25. - Justice and equality with boys, 221. - - - Kant, 3; - his views on moral obedience, 173. - - - Lange's "Apperception," 74. - Language lessons _vs._ grammar, 271. - Languages, difficulties of, 129. - Larned, method of using text-books, 247. - Latin and Greek, 277-285; - time for beginning, 103; - composition in, 285. - Latin, increase in study of, 278; - reasons for teaching, 279; - authors to be read, 282. - Letter writing, 276. - Listlessness, 158. - Literary masterpieces, study of, 76. - Logarithms, 254. - Love, 53. - - - Magnitudes in mathematics, 252. - Main kinds of interest, 83-94; - materials of, 95-104; - process of, 105-130; - plan of, 131-135. - Manly games, effects of on boys, 183. - Manual training, 259; - effect of on discipline, 56. - Many-sidedness, 66-70; - of interest, 62. - Materials of instruction, 95-104. - Mathematics, 252-257; - linked to nature, 39; - correlation of, 39; - aptitude for, 252. - Mathematical teaching, order of, 255. - Maxims, origin of, 310. - McLellan and Dewey, 253. - McMurray, 74. - Measuring, 253. - Mediæval history, 249. - Memorizing, 81, 108. - Memory of will, 161. - Mental faculties, names for, 27. - Mental instability, 301. - Mephistopheles, 83. - Method, 67. - Mob spirit, the, 168. - Mobility of ideas, 35. - Modern history, 250. - Modern languages, arguments for their study, 98. - Modern methods of using text-books in history, 247. - Money, teaching the use of, 170. - Moodiness in the teacher, 166. - Moods and whims, 147. - Moral eccentricity, 307. - Moral freedom, possibility of, 173. - Moral education in strict sense, 188. - Moral judgment, contempt of, 312. - Moral revelation of the world, 167. - Morality, demand of upon youth, 231. - Mother-tongue, the, 269. - Motives of youth, 229. - Musical instruments, study of, 179. - - - Narration, art of, 76; - historical, 239-243. - Natorp, 143. - Natural science, 258-262. - Nature study, 258-262; - apperceptive basis for, 258; - and history, 258. - Niemeyer, 112, 113. - - - Obedience, 48; - to authority, 173; - promptness of, 309. - Object lessons, how to teach, 114-116. - Observation, of children, 33, 34; - exercises, 215; - which does not observe, 111. - Occupations, 47, 98; - self-chosen, 134. - "Odyssey," 283. - Offences, concealed, 316. - One-sidedness, 86. - Order, restoration of, 324. - Organization of pupil's ideas, 31, 32; - of education, 330-347. - Outlines of general pedagogics, 45-231. - Outside occupations, 134. - Overburdening of pupils, 97, 226. - - - Pampering, 45. - Passions, 180, 181; - prevention of by training, 314; - what they lead to, 308. - Paulsen, 3, 73. - "Pedagogical Seminary," 178. - Pedagogics, ethical basis of, 8-19; - psychological basis of, 20-44; - outlines of general, 45-231. - Perez, 195. - Perfection, idea of, definition, 10; - importance of, 17; - false idea of, 18; - in children, 207-210. - _Perfice te_, 17. - Pestalozzi, 112, 114. - Physical activity, need of, 46. - Physical weakness, consideration for, 159. - Physics, elementary, 261. - Plan of instruction, 131-135. - Play, love of, 295. - Playground, need for, 132. - Plasticity, limited, 4. - Pleasure and pain, sources of, 168. - Praise and censure, 189-190. - Premature fixation of ideas, 218. - Preparation, 70. - Presentation, 70, 119. - Presentative instruction, its present function, 109. - Presentative method, meaning of, 106. - Preyer, 195. - Primacy of ideas, 73, 143; - of will, 73, 143. - Principles _vs._ inclinations, 193. - Private _vs._ public schools, 334. - Process of instruction, 105-130. - Proficiency in knowledge a late acquirement, 127. - Prudence, 145. - Psychological basis of pedagogics, 8-19. - Psychology as instrument, 2. - "Psychology of Number," 253. - Public opinion, respect for, 306. - Public _vs._ private schools, 334. - Punishment, 51-53. - Pupil's interest, how to measure and secure it, 101. - - - Quality _vs._ quantity, in securing interest, 101. - Questions, childish, 213; - character of, 342. - Quietude of mind, 176. - - - Rationality, growth of, 296. - Reading, 273-275. - _Realia_, advantage of, 101. - Recitations, number per week, 133. - Records, of conduct, 50. - Recreations, 132. - Reflection and absorption, 66. - Reform, school, 103. - Regulative principles, establishment of, 173. - Regulative training, 172. - Religion, 232-238. - Religious culture with boys, 222. - Religious feeling, beginnings of, 236. - Religious instruction, 94; - in England, Germany, and the United States, 181. - Religious training, need of, 19. - Reminders, 192. - Repetition, what it accomplishes, 118. - Reproduction, 109. - Rest and action, 156. - Restlessness, 297; - under control, 305. - Restraint, 55; - and freedom, 186. - Revelation of the world, moral, 167. - Reviews, conduct of, 117. - Rigidity of mind, 300. - Rosenkranz, 66. - "Rousing word," the, 175. - Rudeness _vs._ instruction, 35. - Russell, "German Higher Schools," 279. - - - Savings banks, 170. - "School and Society," Dr. John Dewey, 38. - School hygiene, literature of, 132. - Schoolrooms, need for spacious, 132. - Schools, organization of, 338-347. - School system, 338. - Scientific instruction, a branch of education, 37. - Scientific _vs._ classical education, 85. - Seclusion _vs._ society, 168. - Secondary education in United States, its brevity, 103. - Self-activity, 71. - Self-defence, 183. - Self-determination, 26. - Sensibility, kindness of, 152. - Sensual impulses, 298. - Sequence, common view, 96; - of studies, 128. - Series of ideas, 121. - Severity for concealed offences, 316. - Simulation of ethical judgments, 317. - Sin, 338. - Six-year high school course, 103. - Skill _vs._ interest, 289. - Sluggishness of pupils, 165. - Smith, David Eugene, 255, 256. - Social cheerfulness, 211. - Social circle, relation of child to, 208. - Social ends of training, 160. - Social environment of pupils, 94. - Social faults, correction for, 327. - Social intercourse, 78. - Social pressure in government, 161. - Social relations the source of will, 318. - Social, the, in conduct, 62. - Society _vs._ seclusion, 168. - Source of ideas, 36. - Special applications of pedagogics, 232-293; - religion, 232-238; - history, 239-251; - mathematics and natural science, 252-262; - geography, 263-268; - the mother-tongue, 269-275. - Speer, 253. - Spencer, Herbert, 85, 157. - Spinoza, 3. - Spy, the teacher as, 317. - Standards of honor, 169. - State, its attitude toward the individual, 331. - Strife, 182. - Structure of groups of ideas, 31. - Studies, social function of, 62; - as social instruments, 64; - for boys, 225. - Study of literary masterpieces, 76. - Style of speaking, 108. - Subjects to be taught, 100. - Supervision, 48; - strictness of, 49, 50. - Sweetmeats, educational, 99. - Syntax, Latin, 284. - Synthetic instruction, definition, 106; - nature and course of, 125-126. - System, 67; - promoted by connected discourse, 69; - of laws and rewards, 14; - of civilization, 16. - - - Tardiness, 161. - Teacher as spy, 317. - Teachers' conferences, 339. - Temperaments, 295. - Temper, violent, 298. - Tests by the state, 332. - Text-book methods, barrenness of, 243. - Text-book _vs._ oral presentation of history, 239. - Themes for composition, 124. - The mob spirit, 168. - The mother-tongue, 269-276. - Thoughtlessness of pupils, 164. - Time, amount to be given to instruction, 132. - Training, 136-194; - definition, 136, 141; - relation to government and instruction, 136-140; - aim of, 141-142; - differentiation of character, 143-147; - differentiation in morality, 148-150; - helps in, 151-159; - general method, 160-194; - blended with government, 140; - function of, 151. - Transfer of pupils, 52. - Translation, difficulty of, for German children, 103. - Trigonometry, 254. - Tutors, place of, 335. - - - Unification, 65, 66. - Use of things, how taught, 114. - - - Vendettas, 13. - Violin, value of use of, 179. - Virility in the school, 183. - Virtue, definition, 8, 62; - unevenness of development, 8; - its relation to interest, 64. - _Viva vox docet_, 107. - Volition, harmony with insight, 9; - of the moment, 311. - - - Wiget, 70. - Will, memory of, 161. - Women teachers and fighting pupils, 183. - Work _vs._ drudgery, 63. - Written exercises in the mother-tongue, 276. - Written work, tediousness of, 59; - correction of, 123. - Wundt, 74. - - - - -LECTURES ON TEACHING - -DELIVERED IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE - - -By J. G. FITCH, M.A. - - WITH AN INTRODUCTORY PREFACE BY - THOMAS HUNTER, Ph.D., President of the Normal College, New York - -16mo. Cloth. $1.00 - -"This is eminently the work of a man of wisdom and experience. He -takes a broad and comprehensive view of the work of the teacher, -and his suggestions on all topics are worthy of the most careful -consideration."--_New England Journal of Education_. - -"The lectures will be found most interesting, and deserve to be -carefully studied, not only by persons directly concerned with -instruction, but by parents who wish to be able to exercise an -intelligent judgment in the choice of schools and teachers for their -children. For ourselves, we could almost wish to be of school age -again, to learn history and geography from some one who could teach -them after the pattern set by Mr. Fitch to his audience. But perhaps -Mr. Fitch's observations on the general conditions of school work -are even more important than what he says on this or that branch of -study."--_Saturday Review_. - - - - -NOTES ON AMERICAN SCHOOLS AND TRAINING COLLEGES - - -BY THE SAME AUTHOR - -16mo. Cloth. 60 cents - -"Mr. Fitch is a wise and enthusiastic student of pedagogy, the author -of some specially excellent Lectures on Teaching delivered in the -University of Cambridge, and a rarely good observer of new facts.... -The book is a treasure of clever description, shrewd comment, and -instructive comparison of the English system and our own."--_The -Churchman_. - - - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK - - - - -RECENT BOOKS ON EDUCATION - - -The Meaning of Education - - =And Other Essays and Addresses=. By =Nicholas Murray Butler=, - Columbia University. Cloth. 12mo. $1.00. - - -Social Phases of Education in the School and the Home - - By =Samuel T. Dutton=, Superintendent of Schools, Brookline, Mass. - Cloth. 12mo. $1.25. - - -Education of the Central Nervous System - - =A Study of Foundations, especially of Sensory and Motor Training=. - By =Reuben Post Halleck=, Author of "Psychology and Psychic Culture." - 12mo. Cloth. $1.00. - -"He has succeeded admirably in presenting the subject in a simple, -clear, logical way. It is just the book, it seems to me, for the -reading of all persons interested in 'Child Study.'"--=Francis W. -Parker=, Chicago Normal School. - - -Educational Aims and Educational Values - - By =Paul H. Hanus=, of Harvard University. Cloth. 12mo. $1.25. - -"A very readable book.... His insight into educational problems -is good, his experience wide, and his power of expression -admirable."--=Myron T. S. Scudder= in _The Educational Review_. - - -The Development of the Child - - By =Nathan Oppenheim=, M.D., Attending Physician to the Children's - Department, Mt. Sinai Hospital Dispensary. Cloth. $1.25. - -"Interesting and suggestive."--_The Tribune_, New York. - - -The Physical Nature of the Child and How to Study It - - By =Stuart H. Rowe=, Ph.D., New Haven, formerly Professor of Pedagogy - and Director of Practice in the State Normal School, Mankato, Minn. - Cloth. 12mo. $1.00. - -"The average school-teacher could read no better work on school -hygiene."--=C. H. Thurber= in _The School Review_. - - -The Teaching and Study of Elementary Mathematics - - By =David Eugene Smith=, Ph.D., Principal of the State Normal School - at Brockport, New York. Cloth. 12mo. $1.00. - -The first issue in a series to be known as The Teacher's Professional -Library, edited by Nicholas Murray Butler, Professor of Philosophy and -Education in Columbia University. - - -The Study of Children and Their School Training - - By =Dr. Francis Warner=, Author of "The Growth and Means for Training - of the Mental Faculty." Cloth. 16mo. $1.00. - - -The Nervous System of the Child - - =Its Growth and Health in Education=. A handbook for teachers. By the - same author. - - - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK - - - - -Recent Books on Philosophy, Etc. - - -The Making of Character - - Some Educational Aspects of Ethics. By =John MacCunn=, of University - College, Liverpool. _Cambridge Series_. Cloth. 12mo. $1.25. - -The subject is divided into four general parts: Congenital Endowment, -Educative Influences, Sound Judgment, and Self-development and -Self-control. Each of these parts contains several chapters dealing -with the various phases of character-building and its influence upon -education. Teachers will find much that is new and stimulating in these -pages. - - -The World and the Individual - - Gifford Lectures delivered before the University of Aberdeen. First - Series. The Four Historical Conceptions of Being. By =Josiah Royce=, - Ph.D., of Harvard University. Cloth. 8vo. $3.00. - - -A Brief Introduction to Modern Philosophy - - By =Arthur Kenyon Rogers=, Ph.D. Cloth. 12mo. $1.25. - - -Methods of Knowledge - - An Essay in Epistemology. By =Walter Smith=, of Lake Forest - University. Cloth. 12mo. $1.25. - -A definition of knowledge and theory of the method by which knowledge -may be attained. - - -An Outline of Philosophy - - With Notes Historical and Critical. By =John Watson=, of Queen's - University, Kingston, Canada. Second Edition. Cloth. 8vo. $2.25. - - - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK - - - - -[Transcriber's Notes: - - Descriptions of the illustrations were added by the transcriber. - All punctuation errors were corrected. - Inconsistent hyphenation was retained. - In Contents, the following changes were done to match chapter titles - in the text: - "of" after "Conditions" was deleted (The Conditions Determining - Interest). - "Material" was changed from "Materials" (The Material of - Instruction). - "The" was inserted before "Relation" (The Relation of Training). - In paragraph 36, "one-sidedness" was changed from "one-sideness" - (one-sidedness of instruction). - In paragraph 38, "counteracting" was changed from "counter: acting" - (counteracting selfishness). - In paragraph 70, alternate spelling of annotator's surname as - "DeGarmo" was retained. - In the Index, - "as" was changed from "an" (Disorder as index of failure). - "Humaniora" was changed from "Humanoria" (_Humaniora_ _vs._ - _realia_).] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Outlines of Educational Doctrine, by -John Frederick Herbart - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE *** - -***** This file should be named 44905-8.txt or 44905-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/9/0/44905/ - -Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Marie Bartolo and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian 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: Outlines of Educational Doctrine - -Author: John Frederick Herbart - -Annotator: Charles De Garmo - -Translator: Alexis F. Lange - -Release Date: February 14, 2014 [EBook #44905] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE *** - - - - -Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Marie Bartolo and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44905 ***</div> <div class="transnote"> <p class="tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes</p> @@ -11482,384 +11439,6 @@ due to removed blank pages.</p></div> </ul> </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Outlines of Educational Doctrine, by -John Frederick Herbart - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE *** - -***** This file should be named 44905-h.htm or 44905-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/9/0/44905/ - -Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Marie Bartolo and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian 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: Outlines of Educational Doctrine - -Author: John Frederick Herbart - -Annotator: Charles De Garmo - -Translator: Alexis F. Lange - -Release Date: February 14, 2014 [EBook #44905] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE *** - - - - -Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Marie Bartolo and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - -[Transcriber's Notes: - -This e-text contains a translation of Herbart's "Umriss paedagogischer -Vorlesungen", the main text of which is divided into numbered -paragraphs. The numbers in the Index are references to these -paragraphs. De Garmo's annotations are indented in this e-text by two -spaces. Herbart's own annotations have the run-in heading "Note" and -are indented by four spaces. - -Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and small-capped text by =equal -signs=. - -The square root symbol is denoted by sqrt and the plus-minus symbol -by [+-].] - - - - - OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE - - - [Illustration: Publisher's logo] - - - - - OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE - - - BY - - JOHN FREDERICK HERBART - - - _TRANSLATED BY_ - - ALEXIS F. LANGE, =Ph.D.= - =Associate Professor of English and Scandinavian Philology, and - Dean of the Faculty of the College of Letters, - University of California= - - - _ANNOTATED BY_ - - CHARLES DE GARMO, =Ph.D.= - =Professor of the Science and Art of Education, - Cornell University= - - - New York - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., =Ltd.= - 1904 - - _All rights reserved_ - - - =Copyright=, 1901, - =By= THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. - - Set up and electrotyped. Published February, 1901. Reprinted - June, 1904. - - - Norwood Press - J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. - Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - -PREFACE - - -The reasons for translating and annotating Herbart's "Outlines" are, -first, to present to the English-speaking public Herbart's latest, and -also his most complete, work on education; and, second, to note to some -extent at least the advances made in educational thought since Herbart -laid down his pen. - -Herbart's educational writings are distinguished by two marked -characteristics: 1, their helpfulness in actual teaching; and 2, their -systematic completeness. The thoughtful reader can see the bearing -of each part upon all the others; the purposes of education are so -completely correlated with the means, that, whether the topic under -discussion be apperception or interest or methods of teaching or school -government or moral training or the presentation of a particular study, -the reader is never at a loss to see the relation of this part to the -whole. - -The eminent practicability of Herbart's thought depends upon his -psychological point of view, which is always that of concrete -experience. The moment one tries to apply rational psychology to actual -teaching, one begins to rise into the clouds, to become vague or, -at least, general. The reason for this is that rational psychology -deals with unchangeable presuppositions of mind. We may conform our -work to these standards, but we cannot modify them, any more than we -can a law of nature. But when we have to deal with an apperceiving -content, we feel at home, for over this we have some control. We can -build up moral maxims, we can establish permanent interests, we can -reveal the unfolding of whole developments of thought and effort, we -can fix the time order of studies and parts of studies; in short, we -can apply our pedagogical insight with some degree of success to actual -school problems. Though empirical psychology has in the last fifty -years had as rapid a development as any other department of science, -it has never departed essentially from the direction fixed by Herbart. -New methods have indeed been applied, but the leading motive has -remained empirical; it has had small tendency to drift toward rational -psychology. This fact makes Herbart's educational thought, so far as -psychological bearing is concerned, seem as fresh and modern as when it -was first recorded. - -In one important respect, however, Herbart's system needs modernizing. -It is in relating education to conditions of society as it now exists. -German society has never been that of English-speaking countries; much -less does German society of the early part of the nineteenth century -correspond to Anglo-Saxon society at the beginning of the twentieth. -Indeed, even had there been correspondence before, there would be -divergence now. It is one of the main purposes of the annotation, -therefore, to point out the social implications of various parts of the -"Outlines." - -The annotation has made no attempt to improve Herbart's prophetic -vision concerning many important matters, or to elucidate self-evident -propositions, or to supplement observations already complete, true, and -apt. - -Especial attention is called to the exactness and illuminating -character of Herbart's diagnosis of mental weaknesses and disorders -in children, together with his suggestions as to proper treatment. -Students of child-study, moreover, will find in this work not only -encouragement in their work, but also assistance in determining what is -worth studying in the child. The reader is constantly reminded of the -fact that, when written by a master, no book is newer than an old one. - - =Cornell University=, - January, 1901. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - =Introduction= 1 - - - PART I - _THE DOUBLE BASIS OF PEDAGOGICS_ - - CHAPTER - I. The Ethical Basis 7 - II. The Psychological Basis 15 - - - PART II - _OUTLINES OF GENERAL PEDAGOGICS_ - - SECTION I. GOVERNMENT OF CHILDREN - I. Theoretical Aspects 30 - II. Practical Aspects 33 - - SECTION II. INSTRUCTION - I. The Relation of Instruction to Government and Training 39 - II. The Aim of Instruction 44 - III. The Conditions of Many-sidedness 51 - IV. The Conditions Determining Interest 60 - V. The Main Kinds of Interest 76 - VI. The Material of Instruction from Different Points of View 93 - VII. The Process of Instruction 105 - VIII. Remarks on the Plan of Instruction as a Whole 134 - - SECTION III. TRAINING - I. The Relation of Training to Government and to Instruction 140 - II. The Aim of Training 143 - III. Differentiation of Character 146 - IV. Differentiation of Morality 151 - V. Helps in Training 154 - VI. General Method of Training 160 - - SECTION IV. SYNOPSIS OF GENERAL PEDAGOGICS FROM THE POINT - OF VIEW OF AGE - I. The First Three Years 198 - II. The Ages from Four to Eight 201 - III. Boyhood 209 - IV. Youth 216 - - - PART III - _SPECIAL APPLICATIONS OF PEDAGOGICS_ - - SECTION I. REMARKS ON THE TEACHINGS OF PARTICULAR BRANCHES - OF STUDY - I. Religion 219 - II. History 223 - III. Mathematics and Nature Study 241 - IV. Geography 263 - V. The Mother-tongue 269 - VI. Greek and Latin 275 - VII. Further Specification of Didactics 289 - - SECTION II. THE FAULTS OF PUPILS AND THEIR TREATMENT - I. General Differentiation 292 - II. The Sources of Moral Weakness 301 - III. The Effects of Training 308 - IV. Special Faults 312 - - SECTION III. REMARKS ON THE ORGANIZATION OF EDUCATION - I. Home Education 317 - II. Concerning Schools 321 - - - - -OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - -1. The plasticity, or educability, of the pupil is the fundamental -postulate of pedagogics. - -The concept plasticity, or capacity for being moulded, extends far -beyond the confines of pedagogics. It takes in even the primary -components of matter. It has been traced as far as the elementary -substances entering into the chemical changes of organic bodies. Signs -of plasticity of will are found in the souls of the higher animals. -Only man, however, exhibits plasticity of will in the direction of -moral conduct. - - Had not the youthful mind the capacity to receive culture, education - would be impossible. This educability of the young has rarely if - ever been questioned in actual practice. Much philosophical strife, - however, has raged about the various conceptions of =WILL=, and - the consequent possibility of teaching virtue, or of training - the moral character. The extremes have been _fatalism_, or the - determination of conduct by means of forces lying entirely outside - the power of the individual; and _absolute caprice of will_, or the - determination of conduct entirely by the individual himself without - regard to outside influences. The doctrine of fatalism makes moral - education mechanical; that of volitional caprice makes it futile. - Educational theory must therefore assume a middle ground, in which - the self-activity of the individual and the moulding influence of - education are both recognized. - -2. Pedagogics as a science is based on ethics and psychology. The -former points out the goal of education; the latter the way, the means, -and the obstacles. - -This relationship involves the dependence of pedagogics on experience, -inasmuch as ethics includes application to experience, while psychology -has its starting-point, not in metaphysics alone, but in experience -correctly interpreted by metaphysics. But an exclusively empirical -knowledge of man will not suffice for pedagogics. It is the less -adequate in any age the greater the instability of morals, customs, and -opinions; for, as the new gains on the old, generalizations from former -observations cease to hold true. - - In order to accept the statement that ethics points out the goal of - education, we must conceive of ethics in a broad way. At some periods - in the history of the world, the development of purely individual, or - subjective, character would have been thought a worthy and adequate - conception of the final purpose of education. Other-worldliness was - the ruling ideal. At present, however, we regard that man as most - fit for the world to come who best performs all his functions in the - world that now is. Ethics must therefore be conceived to embrace an - estimation of the value of a man's conduct in every department of - life. Not only must it estimate the worth of pious feeling, but it - must embrace a consideration of every action in its relation to the - actor's social, economic, and political environment. A man having - a praiseworthy character must be a good citizen of state, nation, - and community; he must be public-spirited, law-abiding, given to - honest dealing. Every child should be trained to be a useful member - of civilization as it now exists. Piety alone is insufficient; it - must be accompanied by honesty, industry, patriotism, public spirit. - Non-social, or purely individualistic, conceptions of character as - the goal of education must give way to those social ideals through - which alone the highest welfare of both individual and community - are to be conserved. Without such conceptions an industrial state, - such as now exists, becomes a human jungle in which men enter upon - a fiercer struggle than do the beasts of the real jungle. Social - cooperation is essential when we wish to transform a struggle of - mutual destruction into one of mutual helpfulness. - -3. Philosophical systems, involving either fatalism or its opposite, -pure caprice of will, are logically shut out from pedagogics, because -the notion of plasticity, implying as it does a transition from the -indeterminate to the determinate, cannot by such systems be brought in -without inconsistency. - - Common sense overcomes the logical difficulties of even the worst - systems. Herbart's remark has, therefore, no practical significance. - The philosophy of Spinoza might easily be described by an opponent - as "fatalistic," since it leaves no room for special providences in - the physical universe; yet Professor Paulsen, who holds substantially - to Spinoza's view, is one of the most eminent promoters of the - theory of education in the university of Berlin. Herbart thought - Kant's doctrine of transcendental will one of absolute volitional - caprice, yet the followers of Kant have been among the most energetic - promoters of mental and moral training. Herbart thinks he sees in - this remark a chance to put his philosophical opponents out of court, - to the benefit of his own system. If one philosopher develops a - system of "fatalism" and another one of "absolute free will," the one - may be charged with making education impossible and the other with - making it futile. In either case, since we know that education is - neither impossible nor futile, the presumption is that both systems - are defective. This paragraph and others like it are mere indirect - methods of defending Herbart's system of philosophy: they have no - real significance for the theory of education itself. - -4. On the other hand, the assumption of unlimited plasticity is -equally inadmissible; it is for psychology to guard against this -error. The educability of the child is, to begin with, limited by his -individuality. Then, too, the possibility of determining and moulding -him at will through education is lessened by time and circumstances. -Lastly, the established character of the adult develops by an inner -process which in time passes beyond the reach of the educator. - -5. Education seems thus to find a barrier, first, in the order of -nature, and later in the pupil's own will. The difficulty is indeed -a real one, if the limitations of education are overlooked: hence -an apparent confirmation of fatalism as well as of the doctrine of -absolute free will. - - Modern scientific evolutionary study of anthropology and history - tends to confirm the hasty thinker in the idea that the circumstances - of the environment completely determine the character and destiny - of men, since their debt to the moulding influences of society and - physical surroundings becomes more and more apparent; yet however - powerful the environment may prove to be in fixing the direction of - mental growth in the race, it cannot rightly be conceived as creating - the growing forces. All the sunshine and warmth in the world will - not cause a pebble to sprout; so no external influences whatever - can develop mind where there is none to develop. The exigencies - of Herbart's metaphysics drove him into a crusade against Kant's - doctrine of innate freedom, or transcendental will; all the freedom - that Herbart would admit was that psychological freedom which is - acquired through instruction and training. The quarrel belongs to - eighteenth-century metaphysics, not to modern psychology, nor to - education; for however potentially free an infant may be, nobody - thinks of making it responsible, except so far as growing experience - gives it insight and volitional strength. - - =Note.=--Many thinkers fluctuate constantly between these two - erroneous extremes. When looking historically at mankind as - a whole, they arrive at fatalism, as does Gumplowicz in his - "Outlines of Sociology." Teacher and pupil alike seem to them to - be in the current of a mighty stream, not swimming,--that is, - self-active,--which would be the correct view, but carried along - without wills of their own. They arrive, on the other hand, at the - idea of a perfectly free will, when they contemplate the individual - and see him resist external influences, the aims of the teacher - very often included. Here they fail to comprehend the nature of - will, and sacrifice the concept of natural law for that of will. - Young teachers can hardly avoid sharing this uncertainty, favored - as it is by the philosophies of the day; much is gained, however, - when they are able to observe fluctuations of their own views - without falling into either extreme. - -6. The power of education must be neither over- nor under-estimated. -The educator should, indeed, try to see how much may be done; but -he must always expect that the outcome will warn him to confine his -attempts within reasonable bounds. In order not to neglect anything -essential, he needs to keep in view the practical bearings of the -whole theory of ideas; in order to understand and interpret correctly -the data furnished by observation of the child, the teacher must make -constant use of psychology. - -7. In scientific study concepts are separated which in practice must -always be kept united. The work of education is continuous. With an -eye to every consideration at once, the educator must always endeavor -to connect what is to come with what has gone before. Hence a mode of -treatment which, following the several periods of school life, simply -enumerates the things to be done in sequence, is inadequate in a work -on pedagogics. In an appendix this method will serve to facilitate -a bird's-eye view; the discussion of general principles, arranged -according to fundamental ideas, must needs precede. But our very first -task will necessarily consist in dealing, at least briefly, with the -ethical and the psychological basis of pedagogics. - - - - -PART I - -_THE DOUBLE BASIS OF PEDAGOGICS_ - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=The Ethical Basis= - - -8. The term _virtue_ expresses the whole purpose of education. Virtue -is the idea of inner freedom which has developed into an abiding -actuality in an individual. Whence, as inner freedom is a relation -between insight and volition, a double task is at once set before the -teacher. It becomes his business to make actual each of these factors -separately, in order that later a permanent relationship may result. - - Insight is conceived as the perception of what is right or wrong. - This perception is founded on the spontaneous, or intuitive, feeling - that arises in the mind when certain elementary will-relations are - presented to the intelligence. The unperverted mind has a natural - antipathy to strife, malevolence, injustice, selfishness; it has a - corresponding approval of harmony, good-will, justice, benevolence. - These feelings arise, naturally, only when the appropriate ideas are - present. Insight, therefore, is a state of feeling or disposition - arising from knowledge, or ideas. - - When volition has come into permanent accord with educated insight, - virtue has been attained. Conscience approves every virtuous - act; it disapproves every deviation from virtue. Inner freedom, - therefore, is marked by approving conscience; lack of it, by accusing - conscience. The development of virtuous character is not so easy, - however, as might appear from these simple statements, for virtue - has a shifting, not to say a developing character. Elementary as the - fundamental ethical ideas may be when presented in the home or in - the kindergarten, they are not elementary when met with in modern - civilization. At times virtue has been of a military character, as - in Sparta and Rome; at other times it has been ecclesiastical, as in - the Middle Ages. At the present time, in addition to all that it has - ever been from a purely Christian character, it is civil, social, - industrial. Virtue in a modern city has a content quite different - from that in a pioneer mining camp. Furthermore, virtue is uneven in - its development. The race has, for instance, been trained long and - hard to respect unprotected property, so that we may fairly say such - respect has become instinctive; yet when unprotected property comes - into new relations to the individual, as in the case of borrowed - books, we may find only a rudimentary conscience. What scholar is not - a sufferer from this form of unripe virtue? - -9. But even here at the outset we need to bear in mind the identity of -morality with the effort put forth to realize the permanent actuality -of the harmony between insight and volition. To induce the pupil to -make this effort is a difficult achievement; at all events, it becomes -possible only when the twofold training mentioned above is well -under way. It is easy enough, by a study of the example of others, -to cultivate theoretical acumen; the moral application to the pupil -himself, however, can be made, with hope of success, only in so far as -his inclinations and habits have taken a direction in keeping with his -insight. If such is not the case, there is danger lest the pupil, after -all, knowingly subordinate his correct theoretical judgment to mere -prudence. It is thus that evil in the strict sense originates. - - It is helpful to give the pupil abundant opportunity to pass judgment - upon the moral quality of actions not his own. The best opportunities - are at first the most impersonal ones, for where the child himself is - immediately concerned, the quality of his judgment may be impaired - by intense personal feelings, such as fear of blame or punishment. - Literature furnishes the earliest and most copious examples; later, - history may be helpful, though there is great danger of taking - partial or mistaken views as to the moral quality of historical - deeds. A selection of literature is an artistic whole. All the - relations can be easily perceived, but any given historical event is - likely to be a small section of a whole too vast for the youthful - mind to comprehend. It is for this reason that caution is needed when - passing judgment upon historical facts. - - To encourage the child to pass judgment in these impersonal cases - is to sharpen his natural perceptions of right and wrong, and - to influence his disposition favorably. One who has been led - to condemn cruelty to animals in this way is likely to be more - thoughtful himself, and less disposed wantonly to inflict pain. But - every resource of authority and persuasion, as well as appeal to - sensibility and conscience, must be employed to make virtuous action - habitual, and to prevent the generation of evil. - -10. Of the remaining practical or ethical concepts, the idea of -perfection points to health of body and mind; it implies a high regard -for both, and their systematic cultivation. - - Perfection here means _completeness of efficiency_, rather than - acquisition of holiness. An efficient will is strong, vigorous, - decided; it is self-consistent in the pursuit of leading purposes, - not vacillating or incoherent. Still, the idea of moral perfection is - not a remote one, for, in order to be thoroughly efficient, a will - must be in substantial accord with the ethical order of a rational - society. All its deviations from established law and custom will be - for their improvement, not for the destruction of what is good in - them. - -11. The idea of good-will counsels the educator to ward off temptation -to ill-will as long as such temptation might prove dangerous. It is -essential, on the other hand, to imbue the pupil with a feeling of -respect for good-will. - - Good-will is one of the three concrete virtues lying at the basis of - social order. It is both _passive_, as in _laissez faire_ attitudes - of mind, and _active_ as in thoroughgoing civic, business, and social - cooperation. School training must seek to impress the mind with - respect for the active rather than the passive type of good-will. - So, too, must it ward off the dangers both of passive and active - ill-will, as manifested, in covetousness, malice, malevolence, envy, - treachery, stinginess, cruelty, hard-heartedness. How these ends may - be attained, will be considered later. - -12. The idea of justice demands that the pupil abstain from -contention. It demands, furthermore, reflection on strife, so that -respect for justice may strike deep root. - - No idea appeals more strongly to the unperverted youthful mind than - that of justice or fair play; even the gentlest natures become - indignant at manifestations of injustice. The basis of the idea is, - in the thought of our author, our natural displeasure in contention - over that which, in the nature of the case, only one person can - have. Primarily, it concerns property rights, but secondarily it may - extend to other relations in which two or more wills are at issue. - Justice in the acquisition, possession, and disposition of wealth is - the theme of the greater part of every judicial system. The idea of - justice is the second of the three concrete moral virtues necessary - for civilized society. - -13. The idea of equity is especially involved in cases where the pupil -has merited punishment as requital for the intentional infliction of -pain. Here the degree of punishment must be carefully ascertained and -acknowledged as just. - - =Note.=--This kind of punishment should not be confounded with - educative punishment--so called, _i.e._, punishment through natural - consequences. - - The third concrete moral idea is that of _equity_, or _requital_. It - arises when existing will-relations are altered either for good or - bad. The natural demand is that the requital shall be adequate to the - deed. Lack of requital for good deeds we call ingratitude, one of the - most hateful of human failings. In savagery and barbarism private - vengeance is the normal method of requiting injuries. Remnants of - this system still exist in the duel, and in the fierce vendettas of - some sparsely settled regions. Civilization demands that requital - for evil deeds shall be remanded to the executors of established - law. Only in this way is society saved from destructive broils. In - this respect, as in so many others, the school is the miniature of - the institutional world. The teacher is, to a considerable extent, - lawgiver, judge, and executive. Not a small part of his moral - influence upon his pupils depends upon the justice of his requitals - for violated law. Good-will, justice or rights, and requital are the - three fundamental concrete moral ideas upon which sound character, - both individual and national, is based. The remaining two are that - of inner freedom and that of efficiency. Though formal in character, - _i.e._, devoid of positive content, they are equally important with - the more concrete conceptions. - -14. Where a number of pupils are assembled there arises, naturally, -on a small scale, a system of laws and rewards. This system, and the -demands which in the world at large spring from the same ideas, must be -brought into accord. - - The school is a miniature world, to be regulated by the same system - of moral ideas as that which obtains in society. Compare 182, 310. - -15. The concept of an administrative system has great significance for -pedagogics, since every pupil, whatever his rank or social status, -must be trained for cooperation in the social whole to fit him for -usefulness. This requirement may assume very many different forms. - -16. Of the system of civilization only the aspect of general culture, -not that of special training, must be emphasized at this point. - - =Note.=--The principles of practical philosophy which have just - been briefly indicated are at the same time the starting-points of - ethical insight for the pupils. If the resolve to direct the will - accordingly be added, and if the pupil obeys this resolve, such - obedience constitutes morality. Quite distinct from this is the - obedience yielded, be the motive fear or affection, to the person - of the teacher, so long as that higher obedience is not securely - established. - -17. For the business of education, the idea of perfection, while it -does not rise into excessive prominence, stands out above all others -on account of its uninterrupted application. The teacher discovers in -the as yet undeveloped human being a force which requires his incessant -attention to intensify, to direct, and to concentrate. - - =Note.=--The maxim _perfice te_ is neither so universal as Wolff - asserted, as though it were the sole fundamental principle - of ethics, nor so objectionable as Kant represents it to be. - Perfection, quantitatively regarded (_Vollkommenheit_--the state of - having _come_ to _fulness_), is the first urgent task wherever man - shows himself lower, smaller, weaker, more narrowly limited, than - he might be. Growth, in every sense of the word, is the natural - destiny of the child, and the primary condition of whatever else of - worth may be expected of him in later life. The principle _perfice - te_ was deprived of its true meaning by the attempt to define by - it the whole of virtue--a blunder, since no single practical idea - ever exhausts the contents of that term. Quite different is the - import of the next remark, which applies solely to the practice of - pedagogy. - -18. The constant presence of the idea of perfection easily introduces -a false feature into moral education in the strict sense. The pupil -may get an erroneous impression as to the relative importance of the -lessons, practice, and performance demanded of him, and so be betrayed -into the belief that he is essentially perfect when these demands are -satisfied. - -19. For this reason alone, if others were wanting, it is necessary to -combine moral education proper, which in everyday life lays stress -continually on correct self-determination, with religious training. -The notion that something really worthy has been achieved needs to be -tempered by humility. Conversely, religious education has need of the -moral also to forestall cant and hypocrisy, which are only too apt to -appear where morality has not already secured a firm foothold through -earnest self-questioning and self-criticism with a view to improvement. -Finally, inasmuch as moral training must be put off until after insight -and right habits have been acquired, religious education, too, should -not be begun too early; nor should it be needlessly delayed. - - It is well known what obstacles confront the American teacher who - desires to give a religious basis to moral character. For a full - discussion of the subject viewed from numerous standpoints, the - reader is referred to "Principles of Religious Education," Longmans, - Green & Co., New York, 1900. This book is a series of lectures by - prominent school men and others. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Psychological Basis= - - -20. It is an error, indeed, to look upon the human soul as an aggregate -of all sorts of faculties; but this error only becomes worse when, as -is usually done, the statement is added that faculties are after all -at bottom one and the same active principle. The traditional terms -should rather be employed to distinguish mental phenomena that present -themselves to experience as successively predominant. In this way we -get the leading features of soul-life, which reminds us sufficiently of -psychology for our immediate purpose. - -21. The stage of predominant sense-activity is followed by that of -memory in the sense of exact reproduction of series of percepts -previously formed. Traces of higher activities are as yet absent. The -only thing to be noted is that the series, unless rendered long by -frequent repetition, are generally short; necessarily so, since while -forming they are exposed to continual disturbances caused by great -sensitiveness to new impressions. - -22. Even very young children betray at play and in speech that form of -self-activity ascribed to imagination. - -The most insignificant toys, provided they are movable, occasion -changes and combinations of percepts, attended even with strong -emotion, that astonish the mature observer, and perhaps excite anxiety -lest some of these motley fancies should become fixed ideas. No evil -after effects are to be feared, however, so long as the emotional -excitement does not threaten health, and passes over quickly. A strong -play impulse is, on the contrary, a promising sign, especially when it -manifests itself energetically, though late, in weak children. - -23. Soon there follows a time when the observation of external objects -prompts the child to ask innumerable questions. Here that activity -which is called power of judgment begins to stir in conjunction -with reasoning. The child now strives to subsume what is new under -conceptions already in his mind, and to affix their symbols, the -familiar words. He is still far, withal, from being able to follow an -abstract train of thought, to employ periodic sentences, and to conduct -himself rationally throughout. The slightest occasions will prove him -a child still. - -24. In the meantime, the child manifests, besides the physical feelings -of pleasure and pain, affection for one person and aversion to another; -furthermore, a seemingly strong will, together with a violent spirit -of contradiction, unless this is suppressed in time. - -25. On the other hand, the ethical judgment as a rule shows itself at -first very seldom and transiently--a foreshadowing of the difficulty -of securing for it later, in spite of obstinacy and selfishness, the -function of control, on which control depend both morality and the -higher sense of art. - -26. The boy asks fewer questions, but tries all the more to handle -and shape things. He is gaining knowledge by himself and acquiring -dexterity. Gradually his respect for his elders increases; he fears -their censure and stands in awe of their superiority. At the same time -he attaches himself more closely to other boys of the same age. From -now on it becomes more difficult to observe him. The teacher who has no -previous knowledge of boys who have reached this age, may long deceive -himself in regard to them and will seldom obtain complete frankness. - -This reserve is indicative of more or less self-determination, which is -commonly attributed to pure reason. - -27. The names for the mental faculties acquire renewed importance with -the beginning of systematic instruction. Their import, however, shows a -marked difference. Now memory is relied on for the acquisition, without -additions or omissions, of prescribed series, the order being fixed -or not, as the case may be; usually there is a slight connection with -older ideas. Imagination is called for to lay hold of the objects -of distant lands and ages. The understanding is expected to derive -general notions from a limited number of particulars, to name and to -connect them. The development of the ethical judgment teachers rarely -wait for; obedience to commands is demanded. Obedience of this kind -depends chiefly on the ease with which antecedent ideas are revived and -connected in response to, but not beyond, a given stimulus. In extreme -cases the fear of punishment effectively takes the place of all other -motives. But often not even the usual memory-work can be successfully -exacted through fear, much less obedience without oversight. - -28. Many pupils reveal a curious contrast. In their own sphere they -display a good memory, a lively imagination, keen understanding; by the -teacher they are credited with little of all these. They rule perhaps -over their playmates because of their superior intelligence, or possess -at least the respect of the latter, while in their classes they show -only incapacity. Such experiences suggest the difficulty of making -instruction take proper hold of the inner growth of the pupil. It is -evident, at the same time, that what is customarily ascribed to the -action of the various mental faculties takes place in certain groups of -ideas. - -29. The grown man has one group of ideas for his church, another for -his work at home, a third for society, and so on. These groups, though -partially interacting and mutually determinant, are far from being -connected at every point. This is true as early as boyhood. The boy -has one set of ideas for his school, another for the family circle, -still another for the playground, etc. This fact explains better than -intentional reserve the observation that a boy is one being at home or -at school and quite another among strangers. - -30. Each body of ideas is made up of complications of ideas, which, if -the union is perfect, come and go in consciousness as undivided wholes, -and of series, together with their interlacings, whose members unfold -successively, one by one, provided they are not checked. The closer the -union of parts within these complications and series, the more absolute -the laws according to which ideas act in consciousness, the stronger -is the resistance against everything opposing their movement; hence -the difficulty of acting upon them through instruction. They admit, -however, of additions and recombinations, and so may in the course of -time undergo essential changes; up to a certain point they even change -of themselves if repeatedly called into consciousness by dissimilar -occasions, _e.g._, by the frequent delivery of the same lecture before -different audiences. - -The general notions of things are complexes or complications of their -attributes. Other examples of complexes important to instruction are -furnished by logical concepts and words. But since words of several -languages may be perfectly complicated or bound together with the -same concept, without being just as intimately connected with one -another, it should be noted that when the object or concept comes up at -different times, it will be joined now with this and next with another -language. Yet the repeated perception of the object is not quite the -same perception as before, although earlier ideas mostly coalesce so -fully with later homogeneous ideas that the difference makes itself -felt but little. - -31. The inner structure of groups of ideas becomes discernible in a -measure when thoughts are bodied forth in speech. Its most general -aspect is disclosed in the construction of a period. Conjunctions -particularly are important in that they, without denoting a content -of their own, serve as hints to the listener. They point out to him -the connection, the antitheses, the positiveness, or the uncertainty -of the speaker's utterances; for the meanings of conjunctions can be -traced back to the series-form, to negation and certitude. It should -be noted that want and refusal are related to negation; expectation, -together with hope and fear, to uncertainty, so that the consideration -of thought masses must also include emotional states. Children possess -the structure of thought just as they experience the emotional states, -long before they know how to embody the same in words with the help -of conjunctions. Certain conjunctions, such as, to be sure, although, -on the contrary, either--or, neither--nor, etc., are not adopted by -children until late. - -32. Of equal importance with the inner organization of the pupil's -ideas are, for the teacher, the degree of ease or difficulty with which -a given mass of ideas is called into consciousness, and its relatively -long or brief persistence in consciousness. Here we are face to face -with the conditions of efficient instruction and training. The most -necessary statements relative to this subject will be made under the -head of interest and character-building. - -33. The capacity for education, therefore, is determined not by the -relationship in which various originally distinct mental faculties -stand to one another, but by the relations of ideas already acquired to -one another, and to the physical organism. Every pupil must be studied -with reference to both. - - =Note.=--In the minds of those whose early training has been in - the hands of several persons, whose early life has, perhaps, even - been spent in different households or has been tossed about by - changes of fortune, there are usually formed thought masses that - are heterogeneous and poorly correlated. Nor is it easy to win the - single-hearted devotion of such boys. They cherish secret wishes, - they feel contrasts, the nature of which it is difficult to get at, - and soon strike out in directions which education can frequently - not encourage. Far more susceptible of educative influences are - pupils that have been, for a long time, under the guidance of only - one person,--of the mother especially,--who has had their full - confidence. It now remains to base their further training on what - already exists and to refrain from demanding sudden leaps. - -34. Now, in order to gain an adequate knowledge of each pupil's -capacity for education, observation is necessary--observation both of -his thought masses and of his physical nature. The study of the latter -includes that of temperament, especially with reference to emotional -susceptibility. With some, fear is the first natural impulse, with -others, anger; some laugh and cry easily, others do not. In some cases -a very slight stimulus suffices to excite the vascular system. We need -to note furthermore:-- - -(1) The games of pupils. Do they in a thoroughly childlike manner still -play with any object that comes to hand? Do they intentionally change -their games to suit a varying preference? Can distinct objects of -persistent desire be discovered? - -(2) Their mental capacity and processes as shown in their studies. Is -the pupil able to grasp long or only short series? Does he make many or -few slips in the recitation? Do his lessons find a spontaneous echo in -his play? - -(3) Their depth and consistency. Are their utterances superficial, or -do they come from the depths of the soul? A comparative study of words -and actions will gradually answer this question. - -Such observations will take account also of the rhythm of the pupil's -mental life as well as of the character of his store of thoughts. The -insight thus obtained determines the matter and method of instruction. - - The reader will not fail to notice that much of modern child study - is anticipated in the foregoing paragraphs. Further important - contributions to the same subject are made in paragraphs 294-329. - -35. Instruction in the sense of mere information-giving contains no -guarantee whatever that it will materially counteract faults and -influence existing groups of ideas that are independent of the imparted -information. But it is these ideas that education must reach; for the -kind and extent of assistance that instruction may render to conduct -depend upon the hold it has upon them. - -Facts, at least, must serve as material for methodical treatment, -otherwise they do not enlarge even the scope of mental activity. They -rise in value when they become instinct with life and acquire mobility -so as to enrich the imagination. But their ethical effect always -remains questionable so long as they do not help to correct or modify -the ethical judgment, or desire and action, or both. - -This point calls for a few additional distinctions. Generally speaking, -rudeness decreases in proportion to the expansion of the mental horizon -by instruction. The mere diffusion of desires over the enlarged -thought area causes them to lose something of their one-sided energy. -Moreover, if instruction presents ethical subjects of some kind in -a comprehensible way, the pupil's disposition undergoes a refining -process so that it at least approximates a correct estimate of the -will, that is, the creation of ethical ideas. - -Such favorable results are, however, apt to be outweighed by the harm -done when mere knowledge becomes the chief aim of ambition. - -36. In order that instruction may act on the pupil's ideas and -disposition, every avenue of approach should be thrown open. The mere -fact that we can never know with certainty, beforehand, what will -influence the pupil most, warns us against one-sidedness of instruction. - -Ideas spring from two main sources,--experience and social intercourse. -Knowledge of nature--incomplete and crude--is derived from the former; -the later furnishes the sentiments entertained toward our fellow-men, -which, far from being praiseworthy, are on the contrary often very -reprehensible. To improve these is the more urgent task; but neither -ought we to neglect the knowledge of nature. If we do, we may expect -error, fantastical notions, and eccentricities of every description. - -37. Hence, we have two main branches of instruction,--the historical -and the scientific. The former embraces not only history proper, but -language study as well; the latter includes, besides natural science, -mathematics. - - "Historical" must be interpreted to include all human sciences, - such as history, literature, languages, aesthetics, and political, - economic, and social science. "Scientific" may include applied - as well as pure science, and then we add all forms of industrial - training to the curriculum. Other divisions of the subject-matter - of instruction are often helpful. Thus one may speak of the human - sciences, the natural sciences, and the economic sciences. The - economic sciences include those activities where man and nature - interact. Dr. Wm. T. Harris speaks of five coordinate groups of - subjects, corresponding to what he calls the "five windows of the - soul." - -38. Other reasons aside, the need alone of counteracting selfishness -renders it necessary for every school that undertakes the education of -the whole man to place human conditions and relations in the foreground -of instruction. This humanistic aim should underlie the studies of the -historical subjects, and only with reference to this aim may they be -allowed to preponderate. - - An interesting attempt to realize the aim here demanded is found in - Professor John Dewey's "School and Society,"[1] which is in effect a - description of what he is working out in his practice or experimental - school in connection with his department in the University of Chicago. - - "If the aim of historical instruction is to enable the child to - appreciate the values of social life, to see in imagination the - forces which favor and let men's effective cooperations with one - another, to understand the sorts of character that help on and that - hold back, the essential thing in its presentation is to make it - moving, dynamic. History must be presented not as an accumulation - of results or effects, a mere statement of what has happened, but - as a forceful, acting thing. The motives, that is, the motors, must - stand out. To study history is not to amass information, but to use - information in constructing a vivid picture of how and why men did - thus and so: achieved their successes and came to their failures."[2] - - =Note.=--This view does not shut out the other held in regard to - Gymnasia, namely, that their business is to preserve and perpetuate - a knowledge of classical antiquity; the latter aim must be made - congruent with the former. - -[1] Dewey, "The School and Society," University of Chicago Press, 1899. - -[2] Dewey, "The Aim of History in Elementary Education," Elementary -School Record, No. 8, University of Chicago Press, 1900. - -39. Mathematical studies, from elementary arithmetic to higher -mathematics, are to be linked to the pupil's knowledge of nature, -and so to his experience, in order to gain admission into his sphere -of thought. Instruction in mathematics, however thorough, fails -pedagogically when the ideas generated form an isolated group. They are -usually soon forgotten, or, if retained, contribute but little toward -personal worth. - - It may be added that the leading practical motive in the teaching of - arithmetic has been economic, the cost of things forming the chief - reliance for problems. Only those parts of nature study that involve - important quantitative relations are fitted for correlation with - mathematics. Biology, for instance, which is _qualitative_, since it - deals with life, is a poor support for mathematics; but physics is a - good one. - -40. In general, it will always remain a matter of uncertainty whether -and how instruction will be received and mentally elaborated. To -diminish this uncertainty, if for no other reasons, there is need of -constant endeavor to put the pupil in a frame of mind suitable for -instruction. This task falls within the province of training. - -41. But even apart from reference to instruction, training must seek -to ward off violent desires and to prevent the injurious outbursts of -emotion. We may grant that after the days of school life are over, -individual traits will always break forth again in this respect; but -experiences, too, follow, and in connection with these the after-effect -of education comes to light in proportion as education has been more -or less successful. It shows itself in the nature and the amount -of self-knowledge through which the adult strives to restrain his -native faults. Seeming exceptions are in most cases accounted for by -impressions produced in very early youth and long concealed. - -As soon as a person attains freedom of action, he usually endeavors -to achieve the life which in his earlier years seemed most desirable. -Hence training and instruction have each to be directed against the -springing up of illusive longings and toward a true picture of the -blessings and burdens of various social classes and professions. - -What modifications of individuality training may accomplish, is brought -about less by restrictions, which cannot be permanent, than by inducing -an early development of the higher impulses whereby they attain -predominance. - -42. The larger portion of the restrictions necessary during the -period of education falls under another head, that of government. The -question of completeness of education aside, children no less than -adults need to experience the constraint imposed on every one by human -society: they, too, must be kept within bounds. This function the -state delegates to the family, to guardians, and to the schools. Now -the purpose of government refers to present order; that of training to -the future character of the adult. The underlying points of view are -accordingly so different that a distinction must necessarily be made in -a system of pedagogics between training and government. - -43. In matters of government, too, much depends on how keenly its -disciplinary measures are felt. Only good training can insure the right -kind of sensibility. A gentle rebuke may prove more effective than -blows. The first thing to do, of course, when unruly children create -disorder, is to govern, to restore order; but government and training -should, if possible, go together. The distinction between these two -concepts serves to aid the reflection of the teacher, who ought to know -what he is about, rather than to suggest a perceptible separation in -practice. - -44. In the following pages, general pedagogics, which is followed -necessarily by observations of a more special nature, will be -discussed under the three main heads,--government, instruction, -training. What needs to be said concerning government as the primary -condition of education will be disposed of first. Next comes the theory -of instruction and didactics. The last place is reserved for training; -for an enduring effect could not be expected from it, if it were -severed from instruction. For this reason the teacher must always keep -the latter in view when he fixes his attention on methods of training, -which in actual practice always work hand in hand with instruction. The -other customary form of treatment, that according to age, while not -adapted to the exposition of principles, finds its proper place in the -chapter leading over to the discussion of special topics. - - - - -PART II - -_OUTLINES OF GENERAL PEDAGOGICS_ - - - - -SECTION I - -GOVERNMENT OF CHILDREN - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=Theoretical Aspects= - - -45. We assume at the outset the existence of all the care and nurture -requisite for physical growth and well-being; a bringing up that shall -be as free from pampering as from dangerous hardening. There must be -no actual want to lead a child astray, nor undue indulgence to create -unnecessary demands. How much hardening it is safe to risk will depend -in each case on the child's constitution. - -46. The foundation of government consists in keeping children employed. -No account is taken as yet of the prospective gain to mental culture; -the time is to be fully occupied, at all events, even if the immediate -purpose be merely the avoidance of disorder. This purpose, however, -involves the requirement of ample provision, according to the ages of -pupils, for the need of physical activity, that the cause of natural -restlessness may be removed. This need is more urgent with some -than with others; there are children that seem ungovernable because -compelled to sit still. - -47. Other things being equal, self-chosen occupations deserve the -preference; but it rarely happens that children know how to keep -themselves busy sufficiently and continuously. Specific tasks, not to -be abandoned until completed, assure order much better than random -playing, which is apt to end in ennui. It is desirable that adults -possessing the requisite patience assist children, if not always, at -least frequently, in their games; that they explain pictures, tell -stories, have them retold, etc. With advancing maturity, a steadily -increasing proportion of the occupations assumes the character of -instruction or of exercises growing out of it; this work should be -properly balanced by recreations. - -48. Next in order comes supervision, and with it numerous commands and -prohibitions. Under this head several things must be considered. - -In the first place this: Whether under certain circumstances one might -withdraw a command or permit what has once been forbidden. It is -ill-advised to give an order more sweeping than the execution is meant -to be; and it weakens government to yield to the entreaties, the tears, -or, worse still, the impetuous insistence of children. - -Also this question: Whether it is possible to make sure of obedience. -Where children are not kept busy and are left without oversight, the -issue becomes doubtful. - -The difficulty grows at a rapid rate with an increase in numbers. This -is true especially of larger educational institutions, but, on account -of the coming and going of pupils, applies in a measure also to common -day schools. - -49. The usual solution is greater strictness of supervision. But this -involves the risk of utter failure to receive voluntary obedience, and -of inciting a match game in shrewdness. - -As to voluntary obedience, much depends on the ratio of restraint to -the freedom that still remains. Ordinarily, youth submits readily -enough to many restrictions, provided such restrictions bear upon -specific fixed points, and leave elbow room for independent action. - -In the work of supervision the teacher will find it hard to rely on -himself entirely, particularly if he has charge of classes only at -stated times. Others must assist him; he himself will have to resort -occasionally to surprises. Supervision is always an evil when coupled -with unnecessary distrust. It is essential, therefore, to make those -who do not merit distrust understand that the measures adopted are not -directed against them. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=Practical Aspects= - - -50. Since supervision is not to be vigorous to the point of ever felt -pressure, child government, to be effective, requires both gentle -and severe measures. In general, this effectiveness results from the -natural superiority of the adult, a fact of which teachers sometimes -need to be reminded. Whatever the plan of supervision, there must be -coupled with it an adequate mode of disciplinary procedure. A record -should be kept in schools, not for the law-abiding pupils, but for -those guilty of repeated acts of disobedience. These remarks do not -thus far include any reference to marks and records pertaining to -education proper; they are confined to what is popularly, but loosely, -called discipline, that is, the training of pupils to conform to the -system of order that obtains in the school. - -Home training seldom requires such bookkeeping; but even here it may -at times be useful. Of course, the individual child knows in any case -that some one is keeping an eye on his actions, but the fact becomes -more deeply impressed upon his memory if the reproofs incurred by him -are recorded. - -51. It would be in vain to attempt to banish entirely the corporal -punishments usually administered after fruitless reprimands; but use -should be made of them so sparingly that they be feared rather than -actually inflicted. - -Recollection of the rod does not hurt a boy. Nor is there any harm in -his present conviction that a flogging is henceforth as much beyond -the range of possibility as his meriting such treatment. But it would, -no doubt, be injurious to actually violate his self-respect by a blow, -however little he might mind the physical pain. And pernicious in the -highest degree, although, nevertheless, not quite obsolete yet, is the -practice of continuing to beat children already hardened to blows. -Brutish insensibility is the consequence, and the hope is almost vain -that even a long period of now unavoidable indulgence will restore a -normal state of feeling. - -There is less objection to making use, for a few hours, of hunger as -a corrective. Here only an act of deprivation takes place, not one -involving a direct insult. - -Curtailment of freedom is the most commonly employed form of -punishment; justly so, provided it be properly adjusted to the offence. -Moreover, it admits of the most varied gradations from standing in a -corner to confinement in a dark room, perhaps even with hands tied -together behind the back. Only, for several serious reasons, this -punishment must not be of long duration. A whole hour is more than -enough unless there is careful supervision. Besides, the place must be -chosen judiciously. - - Solitary confinement, especially in a dark room, is seldom if ever - resorted to in American public schools. For remarks upon the social - basis of modern school punishments, see 55. - -52. Corrections of such severity, as removal from home or expulsion -from an institution, are to be administered only in extreme cases; for -what is to become of the expelled pupil? A burden to another school? -And in case the transfer implies the same freedom, the old disorderly -conduct will usually be resumed. Such pupils must, therefore, be placed -under very strict supervision and given new occupations. We must trust -to the new environment to obliterate gradually the old vitiated circle -of thought. - -53. It is a well-known fact that authority and love are surer means -of securing order than harsh measures are. But authority cannot be -created by every one at will. It implies obvious superiority in mind, -in knowledge, in physique, in external circumstances. Love can, indeed, -be gained in the course of time by a complaisant manner--the love of -well-disposed pupils; but just where government becomes most necessary, -complaisance has to cease. Love must not be purchased at the expense -of weak indulgence; it is of value only when united with the necessary -severity. - -54. In early childhood and with healthy children, government is, on -the whole, easy. It continues to be easy after they have once formed -habits of obedience. But it should not be interrupted. Even if children -have been left to themselves or in charge of strangers only a few days, -the change is noticeable. It requires an effort to tighten the reins -again--something not to be done too suddenly. - -Where boys have been allowed to run wild, the attempt to bring them -back to orderly conduct reveals the differences of individuality. Some -are easily made to return to appropriate work by kindness combined with -a moderate measure of forbearance, others have sense enough to fear -threats and to avoid penalties; but we may unfortunately also expect to -find a few whose sole thought is to escape from supervision, however -unpleasant for them the consequences may be. - -Where home ties are wanting, this spirit may develop even during -boyhood with ominous rapidity; during adolescence the difficulty of -checking it may grow to be insuperable. - -55. As a rule, it is reasonable to assume that youth will try to break -through restraints as soon as these are felt. A sufficient amount of -satisfying activity, together with uniform firmness of the lines of -restraint, will, indeed, soon put an end to persistent attempts of -this kind; yet they will be repeated from time to time. As boys grow -older there is a change of pursuits; now the restraining boundaries -must gradually be enlarged. The question now is whether education has -progressed sufficiently far to make government less indispensable. -Moreover, the choice of work comes to be determined by the prospects -opening before the young man, according to his rank and means, together -with his native capabilities and acquired knowledge. To encourage -such pursuits as being appropriate for him, and, on the other hand, -to reduce mere hobbies and diversions to harmless proportions, still -remains the function of government. In any case government should not -be wholly surrendered too early, least of all when the environment is -such as to justify apprehension of temptation. - - Though American teachers are perhaps not accustomed to emphasize the - distinction between government for order and training for character, - the difference, nevertheless, exists, often in an exaggerated form. - Just as fever is looked upon as the measure of functional disturbance - in the body, so disorder in the schoolroom is looked upon as the - measure of the teacher's failure. As fever is the universal symptom - of disease, so disorder is the index of failure. The diagnosis may - err in either case as to what the seat of the difficulty really is, - but that something is wrong is plain to all. The fact that the public - usually gauge a teacher's efficiency by the order he keeps has led - in the past to an exaggerated emphasis upon school discipline. The - means for securing good order have greatly changed since Herbart's - time. A growing sense of social solidarity in the community, together - with the all but universal employment of women as teachers in the - elementary grades, has transferred the basis of discipline from - the teacher to the community. It is social pressure in and out of - the school that is the main reliance for regularity, punctuality, - and order. Herbart wonders what will become of the bad boy if he is - expelled. The modern answer is, he will be sent to the reform school - or to the truant school. The teacher still stands as of old at the - point of contact between the institution and the individual; nor can - he entirely escape the heat generated at times by such contact, but, - after all, it is society that now supplies the pressure formerly - exerted by will and birch. The teacher is now more of a mediator - between the pupil and the organized community, than an avenger of - broken law. - - - - -SECTION II - -INSTRUCTION - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=The Relation of Instruction to Government and Training= - - -56. Instruction furnishes a part of those occupations which lie at the -basis of government; how large a part depends on circumstances. - -Children must be kept employed at all events, because idleness leads to -misbehavior and lawlessness. Now if the employment consists of useful -labor, say in the workshop or on the farm, so much the better. Better -still, if the work teaches the child something that will contribute -to his further education. But not all employment is instruction; and -in cases where the mere government of children is a difficult matter, -lessons are not always the most adequate employment. Many a growing boy -will be taught orderly conduct much sooner when placed with a mechanic -or merchant or farmer than in school. The scope of government is wider -than that of instruction. - - Teachers of manual training everywhere testify to the quieting effect - of directed physical labor upon stormy spirits. Even a truant school - or a school for incorrigibles becomes an attractive place to the - inmates when adequate provision is made for the exercise of the motor - powers. Most children can be controlled through mental occupation, - but there are some to whom motor activity is indispensable. That a - judicious apportionment of sensory and motor activity would favorably - affect the development of all children is not to be questioned. - -57. Instruction and training have this in common, that each makes for -education and hence for the future, while government provides for the -present. A distinction should, however, be made here. Instruction is -far from being always educative or pedagogical. Where acquisition of -wealth and external success or strong personal preference supply the -motives for study, no heed is paid to the question: What will be the -gain or loss to character? One actuated by such motives sets out, such -as he is, to learn one thing or another, no matter whether for good or -bad or for indifferent ends; to him the best teacher is he who imparts -_tuto, cito, jucunde_, the proficiency desired. Instruction of this -kind is excluded from our discussion; we are concerned here only with -instruction that educates in the moral sense of the term. - -58. Man's worth does not, it is true, lie in his knowing, but in his -willing. But there is no such thing as an independent faculty of -will. Volition has its roots in thought; not, indeed, in the details -one knows, but certainly in the combinations and total effect of -the acquired ideas. The same reason, therefore, which in psychology -accounts for considering the formation of ideas first, and then desire -and volition, necessitates a corresponding order in pedagogics: first -the theory of instruction, then that of training. - - =Note.=--Formerly, strange to say, no distinction was made between - government and training, although it is obvious that the immediate - present demands attention more urgently than does the future. - Still less was instruction given its true place. The greater or - smaller amount of knowledge, regarded as a matter of secondary - importance in comparison with personal culture, was taken up last. - The treatment of education as the development of character preceded - that of instruction, just as though the former could be realized - without the latter. During the last decades, however, a demand - has arisen for greater activity on the part of schools, primarily - the higher schools. Humanistic studies are to bestow humanity, or - culture. It has come to be understood that the human being is more - easily approached from the side of knowledge than from the side of - moral sentiments and disposition. Furthermore, examinations might - be set on the former, but not on the latter. Now the time for - instruction was found to be too limited--a want that the old Latin - schools had felt but little. This led to discussions as to the - relative amount due each branch of study. We shall treat chiefly - of the correlation of studies, for whatever remains isolated is of - little significance. - -59. In educative teaching, the mental activity incited by it is all -important. This activity instruction is to increase, not to lessen; to -ennoble, not to debase. - - =Note.=--A diminution of mental activity ensues, when, because - of much study and of sitting--especially at all sorts of written - work, often useless--physical growth is interfered with in a way - sooner or later to the injury of health. Hence the encouragement - given in recent years to gymnastic exercises, which may, however, - become too violent. Deterioration sets in when knowledge is - made subservient to ostentation and external advantages--the - objectionable feature of many public examinations. Schools ought - not to be called upon to display all they accomplish. By such - methods instruction not only works against its own true end, but - also conflicts with training, whose aim for the whole future of the - pupil is--_mens sana in corpore sano_. - -60. If all mental activity were of only one kind, the subject-matter -of instruction would be of no consequence. But we need not go beyond -experience to see that the opposite is true, that there is a great -diversity of intellectual endowment. Yet while instruction must thus be -differentiated, it should not be made so special as to cultivate only -the more prominent gifts; otherwise the pupil's less vigorous mental -functions would be wholly neglected and perhaps suppressed. Instruction -must rather be manifold, and its manifoldness being the same for many -pupils in so far as it may help to correct inequalities in mental -tendencies. - - Not only is subject-matter to be varied on account of mental - diversity, but also for social reasons as well. For an enlargement of - this theme, see the annotation to paragraph 65. - -61. What is to be taught and learned is, accordingly, not left for -caprice and conventionality to decide. In this respect instruction -differs in a striking manner from government, for which, if only -idleness is prevented, it hardly matters what work children are given -to do. - - =Note.=--Children are sent to school from many homes simply because - they are in the way and their parents do not wish them to be idle. - The school is regarded as an institution whose chief function is to - govern, but which incidentally also imparts useful knowledge. Here - there is a lack of insight into the nature of true mental culture; - teachers, on the contrary, sometimes forget that they are giving - pupils work, and that work should not exceed reasonable limits. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Aim of Instruction= - - -62. The ultimate purpose of instruction is contained in the notion, -virtue. But in order to realize the final aim, another and nearer one -must be set up. We may term it, _many-sidedness of interest_. The -word _interest_ stands in general for that kind of mental activity -which it is the business of instruction to incite. Mere information -does not suffice; for this we think of as a supply or store of facts, -which a person might possess or lack, and still remain the same being. -But he who lays hold of his information and reaches out for more, -takes an interest in it. Since, however, this mental activity, is -varied (60), we need to add the further determination supplied by the -term _many-sidedness_. - - It has been pointed out[3] what the content of the word _virtue_ - must be, if this word is to be an adequate expression for the - ultimate purpose of instruction. Virtue must embrace not only what - is purely individual, or subjective, such as piety and humaneness - of disposition, but it must likewise include what is objective, - or social, in conduct. This fact lends a new significance to the - doctrine of interest, for though a normal child is not naturally - interested in introspective analysis of his feelings, he is - spontaneously interested in what is objective and within the range - of his experience. The enterprises of his mates, the regulations of - his school or home, the erection of houses, the introduction of new - machinery, the social doings of the neighborhood, the havoc created - by the elements, the prominent features of the changing year--all - these claim his closest attention. The common school studies deal - with these very things. Literature (reading) and history reveal - to him the conduct of men; the one considering it ideally, the - other historically. Mathematics teaches the mastery of material - when considered quantitatively, whether in trade or manufacture or - construction. Nature studies bring the child into intimate touch with - the significant in his natural environment. Geography shows him the - most obvious features of the industrial activity about him. It shows - him the chief conditions of production in crops and manufactures; it - also gives him hints of the great business of commerce. In all these - studies, the natural inclinations of the mind are directly appealed - to. Not a little of the importance of the doctrine of interest in - instruction depends upon these facts; for both the insight and the - disposition that instruction is capable of imparting to the pupil - relates specifically to the objective side of his character, the one - most in need of development and most susceptible of it. - -[3] Paragraphs 8-15. - -63. We may speak also of indirect as distinguished from direct -interest. But a predominance of indirect interest tends to -one-sidedness, if not to selfishness. The interest of the selfish -man in anything extends only so far as he can see advantages -or disadvantages to himself. In this respect the one-sided man -approximates the selfish man, although the fact may escape his own -observation; since he relates everything to the narrow sphere for -which he lives and thinks. Here lies his intellectual power, and -whatever does not interest him as means to his limited ends, becomes an -impediment. - - It is important for the teacher to see the full scope of the doctrine - of interest in its relation to effort. In Herbart's psychology it - assumes a most important place, since the primacy of mental life is, - in this system, ascribed to _ideas_. In other systems, notably those - of Kant, Schopenhauer, Von Hartmann, Paulsen, primacy is ascribed to - the will, first in unconscious or subconscious striving, later in - conscious volition. This fundamental difference in standpoint will - account for the emphasis laid now upon _interest_, now upon _effort_. - Herbart conceives that conscious feelings, desires, motives, and the - like have their source in ideas, and that volition in turn arises - from the various emotional states aroused by the ideas. Interest - with him thus becomes a permanent or ever renewed, ever changing, - ever growing desire for the accomplishment of certain ends. It is, - consequently, a direct, necessary stimulus to the will. Systems, - however, that regard the will as the primary factor in mental life, - conceiving of ideas only as a means for revealing more clearly the - ends of volition, together with the best methods of reaching them, - are naturally prone to place the emphasis upon _effort_, leaving to - interest but a secondary or quite incidental function. Dr. John Dewey - has attempted to reconcile these two views.[4] Interest and effort - are complementary, not opposing ideas. To emphasize one at the - expense of the other, is to assume that the ends for which we act lie - quite outside of our personality, so that these ends would, on the - one hand, have to be _made_ interesting, or, on the other, struggled - for without regard to interest. This assumption is an error. The ends - for which we strive must be conceived as internal, our efforts being - regarded as attempts at self-realization in definite directions. The - purpose of our action is therefore an end desired. In this we have - an interest surely. As an educational doctrine, however, interest - concerns chiefly the means of reaching these ends. If interest in - the means is wanting, the child works with a _divided attention_. He - gives only so much to the means as he must; the remainder is devoted - to his own affairs,--the past or coming ball-game, the picnic, the - walk in the woods, the private enterprises of home or school. But if - a lively interest is felt in the means to the end, then the whole - self is actively employed for the time being in the accomplishment of - the purpose of the hour. The attention is no longer divided, it is - concentrated upon the matter in hand. This in the school is _work_. - When the attention is divided we have drudgery. This signifies that - the interest felt in the end, say a dollar, is not felt in the means - of attaining it, say a day's labor. However inevitable drudgery may - be in life, it should have no place in the schoolroom. The teacher - must so present the studies that the pupil can perceive at least a - fraction of their bearing upon life. This awakens an interest in them - as ends. He must, then, by conformity to the psychological order of - learning, by enthusiasm and ingenuity, so teach the subjects that - the natural interest in the end will be constantly enhanced through - a lively interest in the daily lesson as the means of reaching it. - The result is unified attention, zeal in the pursuit of knowledge, - hospitality for ethical ideals. - -[4] "Interest as Related to the Will," second supplement to the Herbart -Year Book, revised and reprinted, Chicago University Press, 1899. - -64. As regards the bearings of interest on virtue, we need to remember -that many-sidedness of interest alone, even of direct interest such as -instruction is to engender, is yet far from being identical with virtue -itself; also that, conversely, the weaker the original mental activity, -the less likelihood that virtue will be realized at all, not to speak -of the variety of manifestation possible in action. Imbeciles cannot be -virtuous. Virtue involves an awakening of mind. - - The conception, that by awakening many-sided direct interest in the - studies we can powerfully affect character, is perhaps peculiar to - the thought of Herbart. Yet when we consider that the knowledge - taught in the school goes to the root of every vital human relation, - that, in other words, the studies may be made instruments for - progressively revealing to the child his place and function in the - world, it follows as a necessary consequence, that to interest the - pupil thoroughly in these branches of learning, is to work at the - foundation of his character, so far, at least, as insight into duty - and disposition to do it are concerned. Even if interest in ethical - things is not of itself virtue, it is an important means for securing - virtue. This idea adds to the teacher's resources for the development - of character. It also opens up to him a new realm for research. All - literature, history, science, mathematics, geography, language, may - be examined from this new standpoint, both with respect to selection - and to methods of presentation. Select the portions that pertain - intimately to life; teach them so that their important bearing upon - it may be seen. - - =Note.=--As has been stated already (17), the most immediate of - the practical ideas demanding recognition from the teacher is the - idea of perfection. Now, with reference to this idea, three factors - are to be considered: the intensity, the range, the unification of - intellectual effort. Intensity is implied in the word _interest_; - extension is connoted by many-sidedness; what is meant by - unification will be briefly indicated in the next paragraph. - -65. Scattering no less than one-sidedness forms an antithesis to -many-sidedness. Many-sidedness is to be the basis of virtue; but -the latter is an attribute of personality, hence it is evident that -the unity of self-consciousness must not be impaired. The business -of instruction is to form the person on many sides, and accordingly -to avoid a distracting or dissipating effect. And instruction has -successfully avoided this in the case of one who with ease surveys his -well-arranged knowledge _in all of its unifying relations_ and holds it -together as _his very own_. - - This section points to the correlation of studies, a subject to - be considered hereafter in detail. It also throws light upon the - modern system of elective courses or elective studies in secondary - and higher education. The teachable subjects have now become so - numerous that election is imperative unless what is to be taught is - determined arbitrarily without regard to the needs or inclinations of - students. Furthermore, election is made imperative by the fact that - the higher education is now open to all minds of all social classes, - and that differentiated industry calls for many kinds of education. - But the need for mental symmetry, no less imperative now than in the - past, is reinforced by the need for social symmetry. Education must - put the student into sympathetic touch with the whole of life, not - a mere segment of it. Since many-sidedness cannot be interpreted - to mean knowledge of all subjects, this being impossible, it must - be interpreted to mean knowledge of all departments of learning. - Election may be permitted to emphasize departments of study, but - not to ignore them entirely. There are four or more languages worth - teaching, many departments of history, numerous sciences, and various - branches of mathematics, not to speak of the economic, political, - and social sciences. Enough of each department being given to insure - intelligent sympathy with the aspect of civilization it presents, - the student may be allowed to place the emphasis upon such groups of - studies as best conserve his tastes, his ability, and his destination - in life. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=The Conditions of Many-sidedness= - - -66. It becomes obvious at once that a many-sided culture cannot be -brought about quickly. The requisite store of ideas is acquired only -by successive efforts; but unification, a view of the whole, and -assimilation are to be attained besides (65), whence an alternation, in -time, of absorption and reflection. The apprehension of the manifold is -of necessity a gradual process, and the same is true of the unification -of knowledge. - - In _absorption_ the mind surrenders itself to the acquisition or - contemplation of facts. Thus a child will stand in open-eyed wonder - at beholding a novel spectacle, the scientist becomes absorbed in - watching the outcome of a new experiment, the philosopher loses - consciousness to all about him in the unfolding of some new train - of thought. Not only may absorption concern momentary experiences, - but it may in a broad way be said to cover considerable periods - of life, as, for instance, when a student becomes absorbed in the - mastery of foreign languages having no immediate relation to his - daily life. _Reflection_ is the assimilation of the knowledge gained - by absorption. The mind, recovering from its absorption in what - is external, relates its new-found experience to the sum of its - former experiences. New items of knowledge in this way find their - appropriate places in the organic structure of the mind. They are - apperceived. The many-sided thus comes to unity. - - Rosenkranz calls absorption and reflection, _self-estrangement_ and - its _removal_. "All culture," he says, "whatever may be its special - purport, must pass through these two stages,--of estrangement, - and its removal." Again, he says, "The mind is (1) immediate (or - potential); but (2) it must estrange itself from itself, as it were, - so that it may place itself over against itself as a special object - of attention; (3) this estrangement is finally removed through a - further acquaintance with the object ... it feels itself at home in - that on which it looks, and returns again enriched to the form of - immediateness (to unity with itself). That which at first appeared - to be another than itself is now seen to be itself."[5] This is an - abstract statement of the fact that (1) in learning the mind becomes - absorbed for a time in external objects, ignoring temporarily their - inner meaning and relation to self, and (2) this period of absorption - is succeeded by one of reflection, in which the mind perceives - the significance of what has been observed, noting the laws and - principles underlying the phenomena and thus assimilating them to - what it conceives to be rational. - - Owing to the fact that absorption and reflection may refer to very - short and also to comparatively long periods, they may be studied - with respect to their bearing in conducting recitations, and to their - importance in fixing courses of study. The former aspect of the two - processes will in this connection chiefly occupy our attention. - -[5] "Philosophy of Education," pp. 27, 28, New York, D. Appleton & Co. - -67. Some teachers lay great stress on the explication, step by step, of -the smaller and smallest components of the subject, and insist on a -similar reproduction on the part of the pupils. Others prefer to teach -by conversation, and allow themselves and their pupils great freedom of -expression. Others, again, call especially for the leading thoughts, -but demand that these be given with accuracy and precision, and in the -prescribed order. Others, finally, are not satisfied until their pupils -are self-actively exercising their minds in systematic thinking. - -Various methods of teaching may thus arise; it is not necessary, -however, that one should be habitually employed to the exclusion of -the rest. We may ask rather whether each does not contribute its share -to a many-sided culture. In order that a multitude of facts may be -apprehended, explications or analyses are needed to prevent confusion; -but since a synthesis is equally essential, the latter process may -be started by conversation, continued by lifting into prominence the -cardinal thoughts, and completed by the methodical independent thinking -of the pupil: _clearness_, _association_, _system_, _method_. - - In teaching we need to have (1) _clearness_ in the presentation - of specific facts, or the elements of what is to be mastered; - (2) _association_ of these facts with one another, and with other - related facts formerly acquired, in order that assimilation, or - apperception, may be adequately complete; (3) when sufficient facts - have been clearly presented and sufficiently assimilated, they must - be _systematically_ ordered, so that our knowledge will be more - perfectly unified than it could be did we stop short of thorough - classification, as in the study of botany, or of the perception of - rules and principles, as in mathematics and grammar; (4) finally the - facts, rules, principles, and classifications thus far assumed must - be secured for all time by their efficient _methodical_ application - in exercises that call forth the vigorous self-activity of the - pupil. These four stages of teaching may be considered fundamental, - though varying greatly according to the nature of the subject and - the ability of the pupil. It is good exercise for a pupil to take - long, rapid steps when able to do so; it is hopeless confusion to - undertake them when they are too great or too rapid for his capacity. - These four stages in methods of teaching conceived to be essential, - form the nucleus of an interesting development in the Herbartian - school, under the title of "The Formal [_i.e._ Essential] Steps - of Instruction." The leading ideas will be further described in a - subsequent paragraph (70). - -68. On closer inspection we find that instead of being mutually -exclusive, these various modes of instruction are requisite, one by -one, in the order given above, for every group, small or large, of -subjects to be taught. - -For, first, the beginner is able to advance but slowly. For him the -shortest steps are the safest steps. He must stop at each point as -long as is necessary to make him apprehend distinctly each individual -fact. To this he must give his whole thought. During the initial stage, -the teacher's art consists, therefore, preeminently in knowing how to -resolve his subject into very small parts. In this way he will avoid -taking sudden leaps without being aware that he is doing so. - -Secondly, association cannot be effected solely by a systematic mode -of treatment, least of all at first. In the system each part has -its own fixed place. At this place it is connected directly with -the nearest other parts, but also separated from other more remote -parts by a definite distance, and connected with these only by way of -determinate intervening members, or links. Besides, the nature of this -connection is not the same everywhere. Furthermore, a system is not to -be learned merely. It is to be used, applied, and often needs to be -supplemented by additions inserted in appropriate places. To be able -to do this requires skill in diverting one's thoughts from any given -starting-point to every other point, forward, backward, sideways. Hence -two things are requisite; preparation for the system, and application -of the system. Preparation is involved in association; exercise in -systematic thinking must follow. - -69. During the first stage, when the clear apprehension of the -individual object or fact is the main thing, the shortest and most -familiar words and sentences are the most appropriate. The teacher will -often find it advisable also to have some, if not all, of the pupils -repeat them accurately after him. As is well known, even speaking in -concert has been tried in many schools not entirely without success, -and for young beginners this method may indeed at times answer very -well. - -For association, the best mode of procedure is informal conversation, -because it gives the pupil an opportunity to test and to change the -accidental union of his thoughts, to multiply the links of connection, -and to assimilate, after his own fashion, what he has learned. It -enables him, besides, to do at least a part of all this in any way that -happens to be the easiest and most convenient. He will thus escape the -inflexibility of thought that results from a purely systematic learning. - -System, on the other hand, calls for a more connected discourse, -and the period of presentation must be separated more sharply from -the period of repetition. By exhibiting and emphasizing the leading -principles, system impresses upon the minds of pupils the value of -organized knowledge; through its greater completeness it enriches their -store of information. But pupils are incapable of appreciating either -advantage when the systematic presentation is introduced too early. - -Skill in systematic thinking the pupil will obtain through the solution -of assigned tasks, his own independent attempts, and their correction. -For such work will show whether he has fully grasped the general -principles, and whether he is able to recognize them in and apply them -to particulars. - -70. These remarks on the initial analysis and the subsequent gradual -uniting of the matter taught, hold true, in general and in detail, of -the most diverse objects and branches of instruction. Much remains to -be added, however, to define with precision the application of these -principles to a given subject and to the age of the pupil. It will -suffice, for the present, if we remind ourselves that instruction -provides a portion of the occupations necessary to government (56). -Now, instruction produces fatigue in proportion to its duration; more -or less, of course, according to individual differences. But the more -fatiguing it is, the less it accomplishes as employment. This fact -alone shows clearly the necessity of intermissions and change of -work. If the pupil has become actually tired, that is, has not lost -merely inclination to work, this feeling must be allowed, as far as -is practicable, to pass away, at any rate to diminish, before the -same subject is resumed in a somewhat modified form. In order to have -time enough for this, the systematic presentation must in many cases -be postponed until long after the first lessons in the elements have -begun, and conversely, the rudiments of a subject frequently have to be -at least touched upon long before connected instruction can be thought -of. Many a principle needs to be approached from a great distance. - - Herbart found his basis for the four steps of method, viz. - _clearness_, _association_, _system_, _method_, in the ideas of - absorption and reflection, the alternate pulsation of consciousness - in absorbing and assimilating knowledge. Others, adopting this - classification as essentially correct, have related these steps to - customary psychological analysis. Thus Doerpfeld and Wiget point - out that the mind goes through three well-marked processes when it - performs the complete act of learning, namely, _perception_ of new - facts; _thought_, or the bringing of ideas into logical relations; - and _application_, or the exercise of the motor activities of the - mind in putting knowledge into use. Perception gives the _percept_, - thought gives the _conception_ (or rule, principle, generalization), - and application gives _power_. In other words, the receptive and - reflective capacities of the mind come to their full fruition when - they result in adequate motor activities. With respect to perception - a good method will first _prepare_ the mind for facts and will then - _present_ them so that they may be apperceived. The first two steps - are therefore _preparation_ and _presentation_. The first step, as - Ziller pointed out, is essentially _analytic_ in character, since it - analyzes the present store of consciousness in order to bring facts - to the front that are closely related to those of the present lesson; - the second step, _i.e._, presentation, is essentially _synthetic_, - since its function is to add the matter of the new lesson to related - knowledge already in possession. Both together constitute the initial - stages of apperception. - - _Thought_ consists of two processes that may also be termed steps, - and that are more or less observable in all good teaching; they are - (1) the _association_ of newly apperceived facts with one another and - with older and more firmly established ideas in order that rational - connection may be established in what one knows, and especially - in order that what is general and essential in given facts may be - grasped by the mind; and (2) the condensation of knowledge into a - _system_, such for instance as we see in the classifications of - botany and zoology, or in the interdependence of principles as in - arithmetic. Thought, in brief, involves the association of ideas and - the derivation of generalizations such as are appropriate to the - matter in hand and to the thought power of the pupils. - - The third stage, that of _application_, is not subdivided. Most - other followers of Herbart, both German and American, though varying - in methods of approach, conform essentially to the results of this - analysis, distinguishing _five_ steps, as follows:-- - - 1. Preparation--Analysis } - 2. Presentation--Synthesis } Apperception of percepts. - 3. Association } Thought. The derivation and arrangement - 4. Systemization } of rule, principle, or class. - 5. Application. From knowing to doing: use of motor powers. - - The reader is referred to the following-named works for extended - discussion of this topic: McMurray, "General Method"; DeGarmo, - "Essentials of Method"; Lange, "Apperception," pp. 200-245; Rein - (Van Liew's translation), "Outlines of Pedagogy"; Herbart (Felkins' - translation), "Science of Education"; McMurray, C. A. & F. M., "The - Method of the Recitation." A comparative view of the treatment of - the Steps of Instruction by various authors is found in Van Liew's - translation of Rein's "Outlines of Pedagogy," p. 145. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=The Conditions Determining Interest= - - -71. Interest means self-activity. The demand for a many-sided interest -is, therefore, a demand for many-sided self-activity. But not all -self-activity, only the right degree of the right kind, is desirable; -else lively children might very well be left to themselves. There would -be no need of educating or even of governing them. It is the purpose -of instruction to give the right _direction_ to their thoughts and -impulses, to incline these toward the morally good and true. Children -are thus in a measure passive. But this passivity should by no means -involve suppression of self-activity. It should, on the contrary, imply -a stimulation of all that is best in the child. - -At this point a psychological distinction becomes necessary, namely, -that between designedly reproduced, or "given," and spontaneous -representations. In recitations of what has been learned we have an -example of the former; the latter appear in the games and fancies of -children. A method of study that issues in mere reproduction leaves -children largely in a passive state, for it crowds out for the time -being the thoughts they would otherwise have had. In games, however, -and in the free play of fancy, and accordingly also in that kind of -instruction which finds an echo here, free activity predominates. - -This distinction is not intended to affirm the existence of two -compartments in which the ideas, separated once for all, would, of -necessity, have to remain. Ideas that must by effort be raised into -consciousness because they do not rise spontaneously, may become -spontaneous by gradual strengthening. But this development we cannot -count on unless instruction, advancing step by step, bring it about. - - Interest must be conceived as self-propulsive activity toward an - end. It is a part of the teacher's function to assist the pupil in - making the appropriate ideas strong and spontaneous. Occasionally - a mere suggestion will change the whole mental attitude toward an - end and the means for reaching it. A student one day approached his - instructor with this query: "How can I get through this study with - the least expenditure of time and effort?" The desired answer was - first given. The instructor then remarked that there was another way - of viewing the matter, viz., that one might consider how to get the - _most_ rather than the _least_ out of the study. He then briefly - unfolded its nature and possibilities, whereupon the student became - one of the most interested members of the class. He had come with - only an indirect interest in the subject as an end; he regarded the - study as a required task and the means of passing upon it as so much - drudgery; but he so changed his attitude toward it, that the study - became an end personally desired, and the daily effort a pleasurable - exercise of his self-directed power of thought. The interest that - the instructor had aroused in the end was transferred to the means. - -72. It is the teacher's business, while giving instruction, to observe -whether the ideas of his pupils rise spontaneously or not. If they do, -the pupils are said to be attentive; the lesson has won their interest. -If not, attention is, indeed, not always wholly gone. It may, moreover, -be enforced for a time before actual fatigue sets in. But doubt arises -whether instruction can effect a future interest in the same subjects. - -Attention is a factor of such importance to education as to call for a -more detailed treatment. - -73. Attention may be broadly defined as an attitude of mind in which -there is readiness to form new ideas. Such readiness is either -voluntary or involuntary. If voluntary, it depends on a resolution; -the teacher frequently secures this through admonitions or threats. -Far more desirable and fruitful is involuntary attention. It is this -attention that the art of teaching must seek to induce. Herein lies the -kind of interest to be sought by the teacher. - - _Forced_ and _spontaneous_ are more truly expressive terms than - _voluntary_ and _involuntary_ in this connection. It is not meant - that interested activity is _against_ the will, or even indifferent - to it. On the contrary, it is a form of activity that calls every - resource of the mind into full play. The will is never so promptly - active as when it is doing the things in which it is most interested; - it is, however, a _spontaneous_, not a _forced_ activity. - - There is, as Dr. John Dewey points out,[6] a contradiction between - Herbart's Pedagogy and his Psychology, as follows: the Pedagogy - regards interest as the lever of education, the means for securing - spontaneous activity of mind; the Psychology regards interest as a - feeling arising from the relation of ideas. Ideas must therefore be - _given_, in right relations, to arouse interest, while interest is in - turn conceived as the means of arousing them. This is reasoning in a - circle. The difficulty arises from asserting the primacy of ideas in - mental life, and then speaking of _self-activity_, which presupposes - the primacy of motor, or impulsive activities. The reader will avoid - all contradictions in educational theory by accepting the modern - view of the primacy, not of ideas, but of what may broadly be termed - _will_. The latter view is in accord with biological and historical - science. Ideas are a later production of mind; they serve to define - more clearly the ends for which we work, at the same time giving us - insight into the best means of attaining them. For an interesting - discussion of the primacy of the will, the reader is referred to - Professor Paulsen's "Introduction to Philosophy," pp. 111-122.[7] - -[6] "Interest as Related to Will," pp. 237-241, Second Supplement to -First Herbart Year Book. - -[7] Henry Holt & Co., New York, 1895. - -74. Involuntary [spontaneous] attention is subdivided into primitive -and apperceiving. The latter especially is of the greatest importance -in teaching, but it rests on the former, the conditions of which must -constantly be taken into account. - -Apperception, or assimilation, takes place through the reproduction of -previously acquired ideas and their union with the new element, the -most energetic apperception, although not necessarily the best, being -effected by the ideas rising spontaneously. This topic will be treated -more fully below (77). Here it suffices to say that the apperceiving -attention obviously presupposes the primitive attention; otherwise -apperceiving ideas would never have been formed. - - The psychological and educational importance of the idea of - apperception, or the assimilation of knowledge, has been much - emphasized in recent years. For a psychological interpretation of - the theory, the reader is referred to Wundt's "Human and Animal - Psychology,"[8] pp. 235-251. The educational significance of the - doctrine has been well brought out by Dr. Karl Lange, in his able - monograph on "Apperception."[9] The subject has been more popularly - treated in Dr. McMurray's "General Method,"[10] and in the writer's - "Essentials of Method"[11]; also in a number of other works. - -[8] New York, Macmillan & Co., 1894. - -[9] Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1894. - -[10] Bloomington, Ill., Public School Pub. Co., 1894. - -[11] Boston, D. C. Heath & Co., 1893. - -75. The primitive or original attention depends primarily on the -strength of the sense-impression. Bright colors and loud speaking are -more easily noticed than dark colors and low tones. It would be an -error, however, to infer that the strongest sense-perceptions are at -the same time the most adequate. These quickly blunt the receptivity, -while weak sense-impressions may, in the course of time, engender -ideation as energetic as that produced by originally obtrusive -perceptions. For this reason, a middle course must be chosen from -the first. For children, however, the direct sense-perception, even -of a picture, if the object itself is not to be had, is altogether -preferable to mere description. - -The presence in the minds of children of ideas--those supplied by -instruction itself not excepted--contrary to the new representations to -be mastered, acts as a hindrance or check. This very fact explains why -clearness of apprehension is not gained where instruction piles up one -thing upon another in too rapid succession. It is essential, therefore, -in the case of beginners, so to single out each fact, to separate -part from part, and to proceed step by step, that apprehension may be -rendered easy for them. - -A second hindrance to attention is of a more temporary character, but -may nevertheless work much mischief. It makes a vast difference whether -the ideas aroused are in a state of equilibrium or not. Long sentences -in speech and in books are less easily apprehended than short ones. -They excite a movement of many albeit connected thoughts, which do not -at once subside into their proper places. Now, just as in reading and -writing pauses must be observed, which is done more easily in short -than in long sentences, instruction in general must have its chosen -stopping-places and resting-points at which the child may tarry as -long as may be necessary. Otherwise the accumulation of thoughts will -become excessive, crowding in upon what follows, and this upon the next -new element, until finally the pupils arrive at a state where they no -longer hear anything. - -76. The four essentials then for primitive attention are: strength -of sense-impression, economy of receptivity, avoidance of harmful -antitheses to existing ideas, and delay until the aroused ideas have -recovered their equilibrium. But in actual teaching it will be found -difficult to do justice to all of these requirements simultaneously. -Sameness of presentation should not be carried too far lest the child's -receptivity be taxed too heavily. Monotony produces weariness. But a -sudden change of subject frequently discloses the fact that the new is -too remote from what has preceded, and that the old thoughts refuse -to give way. If the change is delayed too long the lesson drags. Too -little variety causes ennui. The pupils begin to think of something -else, and with that their attention is gone completely. - -The teacher should by all means study literary masterpieces for -the purpose of learning from great authors how they escaped these -difficulties. That he may strike the right chord in the earlier stages -of instruction, he should turn particularly to simple popular writers, -Homer, for example, whose story-telling is, on the other hand, too -general and _naive_ for older pupils who have lost the power to put -themselves back into a past period of culture. Yet it is safe to -say in general, that classic writers seldom take sudden leaps and -never stand still entirely. Their method of unfolding consists in a -scarcely perceptible, at any rate an always easy, advance. They dwell, -indeed, long on the same thought, but nevertheless achieve, little -by little, most powerful contrasts. Poor writers, on the contrary, -pile up the most glaring antitheses without other than the natural -result--the antagonistic ideas expel each other and the mind is left -empty. The same result threatens the teacher who aims at brilliancy of -presentation. - -77. The apperceiving, or assimilating, attention (74), though not the -first in time, is yet observed very early. It shows itself when little -children catch and repeat aloud single, familiar words of an otherwise -unintelligible conversation between adults; when a little later they -name, in their own way, the well-known objects that they come upon in -their picture-books; when later still, while learning to read, they -pick out from the book single names coinciding with their recollection; -and so on in innumerable other instances. From within ideas are -suddenly bursting forth to unite with whatever similar elements present -themselves. Now this apperceiving activity must be exercised constantly -in all instruction. For instruction is given in words only; the ideas -constituting their meaning must be supplied by the hearer. But words -are not meant to be understood merely; they are intended to elicit -interest. And this requires a higher grade and greater facility of -apperception. - -Universally popular poems do not produce their pleasing effect by -teaching something new. They portray what is already known and utter -what every one feels. Ideas already possessed are aroused, expanded, -condensed, and consequently put in order and strengthened. On the other -hand, when defects are apperceived, _e.g._, misprints, grammatical -blunders, faulty drawings, false notes, etc., the successive unfolding -of the series of ideas is interrupted so that their interlacing cannot -take place properly. Here we see how instruction must proceed and what -it must avoid in order to secure interest. - - =Note.=--The apperceiving attention is of so great importance in - instruction that a word or two more will be in place. The highest - stage of this kind of attention is indicated by the words--gaze, - scrutinize, listen, handle. The idea of the examined object is - already present in consciousness, as is likewise the idea of the - class of sense-perceptions looked for. The psychic result turns on - the ensuing sense-impressions, on their contrasts, combinations, - and reproductions. These are able to induce the corresponding - mental states unhindered, because disturbing foreign elements - have already been removed and remain excluded. Passing from this - highest grade to lower degrees of attention, we find that the idea - of the object is not yet--at least not prominently--present, that - this itself first needs to be reproduced and made more vivid. The - question arises whether this can be accomplished directly or only - indirectly. In the former case the idea must be in itself strong - enough; in the second it must be sufficiently united with other - ideas which it is possible to arouse directly. Moreover, the - obstacles to reproduction must be such that they can be overcome. - - When the apperceiving attention is once under way, it should be - utilized and not disturbed. The teaching must take the promised - direction until it has satisfied expectation. The solutions must - correspond clearly to the problems. Everything must be connected. - The attention is disturbed by untimely pauses and the presence of - extraneous matter. It is also disturbed by apperceptions that bring - into light that which should remain in shadow. This is true of - words and phrases too often repeated, of mannerisms of speech--of - everything that gives prominence to the language at the expense - of the subject-matter, even rhymes, verse-forms, and rhetorical - adornment when used in the wrong place. - - But that which is too simple must be avoided also. In this case the - apperception is soon completed; it does not give enough to do. The - fullest unit possible is to be sought. - - A rule of vital importance is that, before setting his pupils at - work, the teacher should take them into the field of ideas wherein - their work is to be done. He can accomplish this at the beginning - of a recitation hour by means of a brief outline view of the ground - to be covered in the lesson or lecture. - -78. Instruction is to supplement that which has been gained already by -experience and by intercourse with others (36); these foundations must -exist when instruction begins. If they are wanting, they must be firmly -established first. Any deficiency here means a loss to instruction, -because the pupils lack the thoughts which they need in order to -interpret the words of the teacher. - -In the same way, knowledge derived from earlier lessons must be -extended and deepened by subsequent instruction. This presupposes such -an organization of the whole work of instruction that that which comes -later shall always find present the earlier knowledge with which it is -to be united. - -79. Ordinarily, because their eyes are fixed solely on the facts to -be learned, teachers concern themselves little with the ideas already -possessed by the pupils. Consequently they make an effort in behalf -of the necessary attention only when it is failing and progress is -checked. Now they have recourse to voluntary attention (73), and to -obtain this rely on inducements, or, more often, on reprimands and -penalties. Indirect interest is thus substituted for direct interest, -with the result that the resolution of the pupil to be attentive fails -to effect energetic apprehension and realizes but little coherence. It -wavers constantly, and often enough gives way to disgust. - -In the most favorable case, if instruction is thorough, _i.e._, -scientific, a foundation of elementary knowledge is gradually laid -sufficiently solid for later years to build on; in other words, out -of the elementary knowledge an apperceiving mass is created in the -mind of the pupil which will aid him in his future studies. There may -be several of such masses; but each constitutes by itself its own -kind of one-sided learning, and it is after all doubtful whether even -here direct interest is implied. For there is small hope that this -interest will be aroused in the youth when the years of boyhood have -been devoted merely to the mastering of preliminary knowledge. The -prospects of future station and calling are opening before him and the -examinations are at hand. - -80. The fact should not be overlooked, however, that even the -best method cannot secure an adequate degree of apperceiving -attention (75-78) from every pupil; recourse must accordingly be had to -the voluntary attention, _i.e._, the pupil's resolution. But for the -necessary measures the teacher must depend, not merely on rewards and -punishments, but chiefly on habit and custom. Instruction unites at -this point with government and training. In all cases where the pupil -begins his work not entirely without compulsion, it is particularly -important that he should soon become aware of his own progress. The -several steps must be distinctly and suitably pointed out to him; they -must at the same time be easy of execution and succeed each other -slowly. The instruction should be given with accuracy, even strictness, -seriousness, and patience. - -81. The voluntary attention is most frequently demanded for memorizing, -for which, apart from all else, the presence of interest is not always -a perfectly favorable condition. This is true even of spontaneous -interest, for the ideas that rise spontaneously have a movement of -their own, which by deviating from the given sequence may lead to -surreptitious substitutions. Like observation, intentional memorizing -presupposes a certain amount of self-control. At this point a question -arises as to the proper place of learning by heart. - -Committing to memory is very necessary; use is made of it in every -department of knowledge. But memorizing should never be the first thing -except when it is done without effort. For if the memorizing of new -matter, which the pupil cannot as yet have associated incorrectly, -costs him an effort, it is plain that the single presentations -encounter some opposition or other by which they are repelled too -quickly for their mutual association to take place. The teacher must -in this case talk the subject over first, set the pupil to work upon -it, make him more familiar with it, and must sometimes even wait for a -more opportune moment. Where clearness in single perceptions and their -association (67 _et seq._) are still deficient, these must be attended -to first of all. After the ideas have been strengthened in this way, -memorizing will be accomplished more easily. - -The assigned series should not be too long. Three foreign words -are often more than enough. Many pupils have to be shown how to -memorize. Left to themselves they will begin over and over again, -then halt, and try in vain to go on. A fundamental rule is that the -starting-point be shifted. If, for example, the name Methuselah -is to be learned, the teacher would, perhaps, say successively: -lah,--selah,--thuselah,--Methuselah. - -Some have to be warned against trying to get through quickly. We have -to do here with a physical mechanism which requires time and whose -operation the pupil himself as little as the teacher should endeavor to -over-accelerate. Slow at first, then faster. - -It is not always advisable to put a stop to all bodily movements. Many -memorize by way of speaking aloud, others through copying, some through -drawing. Reciting in concert also may prove feasible at times. - -Incorrect associations are very much to be feared; they are tenacious. -A great deal, to be sure, may be accomplished through severity; but -when interest in the subject-matter is wholly lacking, the pupil begins -by memorizing incorrectly, then ceases to memorize at all, and simply -wastes time. - -The absolute failure of some pupils in memory work may perhaps be -partly owing to unknown physical peculiarities. Very often, however, -the cause of the evil lies in the state of false tension into which -such pupils put themselves while attempting with reluctance what they -regard as an almost impossible task. A teacher's injudicious attitude -during the first period, his remarks, for instance, about learning -by heart as a thing of toil and trouble, may lead to this state of -mind, for which perhaps awkward first steps in learning to read have -prepared the way. It is foolish to look for means of lightening still -more the exercises of children that retain and recite with facility; -but, on the other hand, great caution is necessary because there are -also others who may be rendered unfit for memorizing by the first -attempt of the teacher to make them recite, or even only to repeat -after him, a certain series of words. In attempting, by such early -tests, to find out whether children retain and reproduce easily, it is -essential that the teacher put them in good humor, that he select his -matter with this end in view, and that he go on only so long as they -feel they can do what is asked of them. The results of his observations -must determine the further mode of procedure. - -82. However carefully the process of memorizing may have been -performed, the question remains: How long will the memorized matter be -retained? On this point teachers deceive themselves time and again, in -spite of universally common experiences. - -Now, in the first place, not everything that is learned by heart needs -to be retained. Many an exercise serves its purpose when it prepares -the way for the next, and renders further development possible. In -this way a short poem is sometimes learned as a temporary means for an -exercise in declamation; or chapters from Latin authors are committed -to memory in order to speed the writing and speaking of Latin. In many -cases it is sufficient for later years if the pupil knows how to look -for literary helps, and how to make use of them. - -But if, secondly, that which has been memorized is to remain impressed -on the memory for a long time, forever if possible, it is only a -questionable expedient to reassign the same thing as often as it is -forgotten. The feeling of weary disgust may more than offset the -possible gain. There is only one efficient method--practice; practice -consisting in the constant application of that which is to be retained -to that which actually interests the pupils, in other words, that which -continually engages the ideas rising spontaneously. - -Here we find the principle that governs the choice of material for -successful memorizing. And as to the amount--so much as is needed -for the immediate future; for excessive quantity promotes an early -forgetting. Besides, in instruction, as in experience, there is a great -deal that may not be accurately remembered, but nevertheless renders -abundant service by stimulating the mind and qualifying it for further -work. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -=The Main Kinds of Interest= - - -83. Instruction is to be linked to the knowledge that experience -provides, and to the ethical sentiments that arise from social -intercourse (36). Empirical interest relates directly to experience; -sympathetic interest to human association. Discursive reflection on the -objects of experience involves the development of speculative interest, -reflection on the wider relations of society that of social interest. -With these we group, on the one hand aesthetic, on the other religious -interest, both of which have their origin not so much in discursive -thought as in a non-progressing contemplation of things and of human -destiny. - - The classification of interests into two groups, namely, (a) those - which arise from knowledge, and (b) those which arise from - association with others, and the subdivision of each of these - into three groups, making six in all, is one not of necessity, - but of convenience. The knowledge interests are, (a) empirical, - (b) speculative, (c) aesthetic; the interests arising from - association are, (a) sympathetic, (b) social, (c) religious. This - classification is adopted without criticism by most Herbartian - writers. That the classification is made simply for convenience may - be seen from such considerations as the following:-- - - 1. Strictly speaking, _all_ interests arise from _experience_, the - social no less than the speculative; hence experience is not a basis - for classification at all. - - 2. Aesthetic interests, resting upon contemplation, need not be put - into a group with those that rest upon the perception of cause and - effect, or other relations perceived by discursive reflection. - - 3. The same is true for those empirical interests that are supposed - to rest upon immediate sense apprehension, such as the interest in - color, shape, sound, taste, odor. - - 4. If perception, reasoning, and sensibility are made bases for the - classification of interests, why should not the active volitional - powers of the mind become a basis likewise? Some claim that pleasure - and pain rest primarily upon the _motor_ side of our activity, rather - than upon the sensory. Our interest in _doing_ is antecedent to our - interest in knowing or feeling. This fact is fully recognized by all - Herbartians in the theory of methods, though it finds no recognition - in their classification of interests. - - It must be granted, however, that Herbart's classification is - convenient, even if not especially scientific. - - The empirical interest is the mental eagerness aroused by direct - appeal to the senses, as by novel shapes, colors, sounds, odors, - and the like. Its first stage is wonder, admiration, fear, awe. The - child that drops his picture-book to chase a butterfly abandons one - empirical interest for a stronger one. This form of interest is - usually transient; unless it develops into a new kind of interest, it - is soon abandoned for some other attraction. A primary teacher may - catch but cannot hold the attention of a child by sensuous devices - leading to nothing beyond themselves. - - The speculative interest is more permanent than the empirical. It - rests primarily on the perception of the relations of cause and - effect; it seeks to know the reasons of things. On this account - it is a higher form of apperception, or mental assimilation. The - most fundamental idea in the speculative interest is that of - purpose. We want to know the _purpose of things_, the function they - are to perform, the end they are expected to reach. Thus a child - has a key to the understanding of even so complicated a machine - as a self-binder, or a printing press, provided he sees clearly - the purpose of each. Until this is perceived the facts are an - unintelligible jumble of particulars. A crude form of the speculative - interest is seen very early in the child, when he demands a reason - for everything. It always remains the mainspring of intellectual - life; when it ceases to be a motive power to thinking, thought is - dead. - - The aesthetic interest rests upon the enjoyment of contemplation, - when an _ideal_, sometimes distinct, sometimes vague, can be - perceived through a _sense medium_. In the Greek statue of _Apollo - Belvidere_, a divinity is represented in marble. In the painting, - _Breaking Home Ties_, the feelings of a lad and his mother upon - parting are portrayed upon canvas. In music the ideal is usually - vague, in poetry it is clear and distinct. The aesthetic value of the - latter is enhanced by good oral recitation, both because appeal is - made to an additional sense, and because the ears of men were attuned - to beautiful poetry long before the eye learned to apprehend it. - - All of these interests, the empirical, the speculative, and the - aesthetic, may be classed as _individual_, since they rest upon - purely subjective grounds. They might belong to any Robinson Crusoe - who became isolated from his fellows. But the remaining groups, the - sympathetic, the social, and the religious, rest upon the idea of - intercourse with others. They are, therefore, of supreme importance - for civilized life. Without the sympathetic cooperation of men - civilization would become impossible. Mephistopheles in "Faust" - defines himself as "the Spirit that ever denies."[12] Consequently - any man who becomes so absorbed in his individual concerns as to deny - all social duties and renounce all social benefits becomes thereby - a kind of civic devil. The cynics of old repudiated all social - obligations, thus making themselves bitter civic devils, while the - Cyrenaics, choosing self-indulgence, but denying likewise social - duties, transformed themselves into sensualistic civic devils. - - It is an imperative duty of the teacher, therefore, to arouse the - social and civic interests of the children, since upon these as - active forces the welfare and possibly the stability of society rest. - - The school is the place, the studies and daily intercourse the means, - whereby this class of interests may be aroused. Pupils brought up - in isolation by private tutors are likely to become non-social in - their disposition. Idiosyncrasies are fostered, there being little - or no development of ideals of social cooperation. The kindergarten, - however, when rightly conducted, is nearly always able to foster the - social instincts so powerfully that even the lack of later education - is not able to obliterate them. When this training is reinforced by - the well-governed school, a solid foundation for civic character is - likely to be laid. The studies most important for the fostering of - social and civic interests are literature, history, civil government, - and geography, though others have a more or less intimate relation to - them. - -[12] "Ich bin der Geist der stets verneint." - -84. We cannot expect to see all of these interests unfold equally in -every individual; but among a number of pupils we may confidently -look for them all. The demand for many-sidedness will accordingly -be satisfied the better, the nearer the single individual likewise -approaches a state of mental culture in which all these kinds of -interest are active with equal energy. - -85. As has already been suggested (37), these six kinds of interest -arise from two sources to which historical and nature studies -respectively correspond. With this the facts observed in classical -high schools (_Gymnasia_) coincide: pupils usually lean toward one -side or the other. It would be a serious blunder, however, to affirm, -on this account, an antithesis between the historical and the natural -science interest; or, worse still, to speak of a philological and a -mathematical interest instead--as is, indeed, not infrequently done. -Such confusion in ideas should not continue; it would lead to utterly -erroneous views of the whole management of instruction. The easiest -means to counteract the evil is a consideration of the multitude of -one-sided tendencies that occur even within the six kinds of interest; -we shall be able, at all events, to bring out still more clearly the -manifold phases of interest that must be taken into account. For the -possible cases of one-sidedness are differentiated far more minutely -than could be shown by the discrimination of only six kinds of interest. - - "Is the ideal education classical or scientific?" This question, - which is still debated, really means, shall we cultivate chiefly the - _social_ or the _knowledge_ interests. The historical, or culture, - studies belong preeminently on the one side, the natural sciences - most largely on the other. Herbert Spencer in 1860 made a special - plea for science studies in his monograph, "Education," claiming that - such studies are of chief worth both for knowledge and training. At - that time classical, or culture, studies had possession of almost - every institution for higher education, so that Spencer's special - plea was justified. At present, however, science, which has developed - its own methods of instruction, holds an equal place with social - studies in the colleges and universities. When we are asked which - half of human interests we will choose, the knowledge or the social, - our reply can only be: We will abandon neither, but choose both. Both - are essential to human happiness; both are necessary for social and - material advance. - -86. Empirical interest becomes one-sided in its way when it seizes upon -one kind of objects of experience to the neglect of the rest. When, for -instance, a person wants to be a botanist exclusively, a mineralogist, -a zoologist; or when he likes languages only, perhaps only the ancient -or only the modern, or of all these only one; or when as a traveller -he wishes to see, like many so-called tourists, only the countries -that everybody talks about, in order to have seen them too; or when, -as a collector of curiosities, he confines himself to one or the other -fancy; or when, in the capacity of historian, he cares only about the -information bearing on one country, or one period, etc. - -Speculative interest becomes one-sided by confining itself to logic -or to mathematics, mathematics perhaps only as treated by the old -geometricians; or to metaphysics restricted possibly to one system; or -to physics narrowed down perhaps to one hypothesis; or to pragmatic -history. - -Aesthetic interest in one case is concentrated exclusively on painting -and sculpture; in another on poetry, perhaps only on lyric or dramatic -poetry; in still another on music, or perhaps only on a certain species -of music, etc. - -Sympathetic interest is one-sided when a man is willing to live only -with his social peers, or only with fellow-countrymen, or only with -members of his own family; while a fellow-feeling for all others is -wanting. - -Social interest grows one-sided if one gives himself up wholly to one -political party, and measures weal or woe only by party success or -failure. - -Religious interest becomes one-sided according to differences of creed -and sect, to one of which allegiance is given, while those who hold a -different view are regarded as unworthy of esteem. - -Much of this one-sidedness is brought about in later life by one's -vocation. But a man's vocation must not isolate him. Yet this would -happen if such narrowness should make headway in youth. - -87. A still more detailed analysis of the varieties of one-sidedness -would be possible; it is not needed, however, for ascertaining the -position of the above-mentioned high school studies among the subjects -of instruction calculated to stimulate interest. Languages, to begin -with, form a part of the curriculum; but why among so many languages -is the preference given to Latin and Greek? Obviously because of the -literature and history opened through them. Literature with its poets -and orators falls under aesthetic interest; history awakens sympathy -with distinguished men and the weal and woe of society, indirectly -contributing in either case even to religious interest. No better focus -for so many different stimuli can be found. Even speculative interest -is not slighted if inquiries into the grammatical structure of these -languages are added. Moreover, the study of history does not stop with -the ancients; the knowledge of literature also is widened that the -various interests may be developed still more completely. History, -if taught pragmatically, assists speculative interest from another -direction. In this respect, however, mathematics has precedence; only, -in order to effect a sure entrance and abiding results, it must unite -with the natural sciences, which appeal at once to the empirical and -the speculative interest. - -If now these studies cooperate properly, a great deal will be done, in -conjunction with religious instruction, toward turning the youthful -mind in the directions that answer to a many-sided interest. But if, -on the contrary, the languages and mathematics were allowed to fall -apart, if the connecting links were removed, and every pupil were -permitted to choose one or the other branch of study, according to -his preferences, mere bald one-sidedness of the kind sufficiently -characterized above would be the outcome. - -88. It is admitted now that not only classical but also public high -schools in general should provide for this same many-sided culture, -that is, should take account of the same main classes of interests. The -only difference lies in the fact that for the pupils of the classical -high schools the practice of a vocation is not so near at hand; -whereas, in the public high schools, there is a certain preponderance -of modern literature and history, together with inability to equip -completely with the helps to a manifold mental activity those who -purpose to go on. Much the same is true of all the lower schools whose -aim is to educate. It is different with trade schools and polytechnic -institutes; in short, with those schools which presuppose a completed -education--completed to the extent permitted by circumstances. - -If, then, the programme of a public high school is of the right sort, -it will show as well as the curriculum of a classical preparatory -school does, that an attempt is being made to guard against such -one-sidedness as would be the outcome if one of the six main classes of -interest were slighted. - - How one-sidedness under an elective system may be avoided is - discussed in a previous section (65). - -89. But no instruction is able to prevent the special varieties of -one-sidedness that may develop within the limits of each main group. -When observation, reflection, the sense of beauty, sympathy, public -spirit, and religious aspiration have once been awakened, although -perhaps only within a small range of objects, the farther extension -over a greater number and variety of objects must be left largely to -the individual and to opportunity. To pupils of talent, above all -of genius, instruction may give the necessary outlook by enabling -them to see what talent and genius achieve elsewhere; but their own -distinguishing traits they must themselves answer for and retain. - -Moreover, the above-mentioned forms of one-sidedness are not all -equally detrimental, because they do not assert themselves with the -same degree of exclusiveness. Each may, indeed, lead to self-conceit; -but this tendency does not attach to all in the same measure. - - Holding to the idea of many-sided interest, what justification is - there for elective studies? To this, the reply must be made that in - elementary and in a part of secondary education the principle of - indiscriminate election must be rejected. The only rational election - in secondary education, as already explained (65), is election among - the various members of a group of similar studies. In this way - the destination and ability of the pupil may be regarded, without - sacrificing the needed many-sidedness. The case is different in - higher education, however, for election and many-sidedness are here - quite reconcilable. Higher education is the _comparative study_ of - a few branches. Thus, for example, on the social side, the whole - civilization of Greece is focussed now in her political history, - now in her art, now in her language, now in her education, now in - her philosophy. The student who studies any one of these subjects - thoroughly gets a comparative view of the whole of Greek life. It is - not necessary for him to study them all. The same is true of each - important country or epoch. Every culture study is an eminence from - which the whole is seen. - - Likewise in science, to study a typical form of life exhaustively by - the comparative method gives one an insight into all related life, as - well as many glimpses into physical and chemical science. In a large - sense, therefore, we study all nature, whether we elect biology, - physics, or chemistry, provided we use the comparative method of - higher education. In the college or university, therefore, a large - amount of election is justifiable. That would be a one-sided course - which neglected entirely all social or all science studies. - -90. Under favorable circumstances of time and opportunity, such as -obtain in classical and other high schools, effort, as we know, is -not restricted to the initial stimulation. Hence the question arises: -In what sequence shall the aroused interests be further developed? Of -instruction-material there is no lack; we must select and arrange, -guided in the main by what was said on the conditions of many-sidedness -and of interest. Thus to recapitulate: there must be progress from the -simple to the more complex, and solicitous endeavor to make spontaneous -interest possible. But in applying these principles we must not shut -our eyes to the particular requirements and the difficulties in our way. - -91. The empirical material of languages, history, geography, etc., -calls for specific complications and series of ideas, together with -the network of their interrelations. As to language, even words are -complex wholes, made up of stems plus whatever elements enter into -inflection and derivation, and further resolvable into single speech -sounds. History has its time-series, geography its network of spatial -relations. The psychological laws of reproduction determine the -processes of memorizing and of retaining. - -The mother-tongue serves as a medium through which foreign languages -become intelligible, but at the same time offers resistance to the -foreign sounds and constructions. Furthermore, it takes a young boy -a long time to get familiar with the thought that far away in time -and in space there have been and are human beings who spoke and -speak languages other than his own, and about whom he need concern -himself at all. Teachers, moreover, very commonly proceed on the -fallacious and very mischievous assumption that, because their mode of -expression is clear, it will, of course, be understood by the pupil. -The resources of child-language increase but slowly. Such impediments -as these must be removed. Geography extends the knowledge of spatial -distances, but the inhabitant of a flat country lacks the sense-images -of mountain ranges; one who grows up in a valley is without the -sense-perception of a plain; the majority of pupils lack the concrete -idea of an ocean. That the earth is a sphere revolving about its own -axis and about the sun, for a long time sounds to children more like -a fairy-tale than like a statement of fact; and even educated young -men sometimes hesitate to accept the theory of the planetary system -because they are unable to comprehend how it is possible to know such -things. Difficulties of this kind must be met and not massed together -unnecessarily.--For history, old ruins might serve as starting-points -if only the material they furnish do not prove altogether too scanty -and is not too recent, when the object is to take pupils at an early -age into the times and places of Jewish, Greek, and Roman antiquity. -Here the only satisfactory helps are stories that excite a very lively -interest; these establish points of support for the realization in -thought of a time long vanished. There is still lacking, however, a -correct estimate of chronological distances down to our own time. This -is attained only very gradually through the insertion of intermediate -data. - -92. Material for the exercise of reflection, and so for the excitation -of speculative interest, is supplied by whatever in nature, in human -affairs, in the structure of languages, and in religion, permits us -to discover, or even merely to surmise, a connection according to -general laws. But everywhere--the most common school studies, such as -elementary arithmetic and grammar not excepted--the pupil encounters -concepts, judgments, and inferences. But he clings to the particular, -to the familiar, to the sensuous. The abstract is foreign to his mind; -even the geometrical figures traced for the eye are to him particular -things whose general significance he finds it hard to grasp. The -general is to displace individual peculiarities in his thoughts; but -in his habitual thought-series the well-known concrete crowds to the -front. Of the general there remains in his mind almost nothing beyond -the words used to designate it. Called upon to draw an inference, he -loses one premise while pondering the next; the teacher is obliged to -go back to the beginning again and again, to give examples, and from -them lead up to generalizations; to separate and to connect concepts, -and by degrees to bring the propositions closer to one another. When -the middle terms and extremes have been successfully fused in the -premises, they are still only loosely connected at first. The same -propositions are repeatedly forgotten, and yet must not be reviewed too -many times for fear of killing instead of quickening interest. - -Since forgetting cannot be prevented, it is wise to abandon for a time -a large portion of that into which pupils have gained an insight, -but later on to go back to the essentials by other paths. The first -preliminary exercises serve their purpose if the particulars are -made to reveal the general before generalizations become the material -for technical propositions, and before propositions are combined into -inference-series. The processes of association (69) must not be omitted -between the first pointing out of common features and the systematic -teaching of their rational connections. - -93. Aesthetic contemplation may, indeed, receive its impulse from many -interests other than the aesthetic, as also from aroused emotions. Art -itself, however, is possible only in a state of mind sufficiently -tranquil to permit an accurate and coherent apprehension of the -simultaneously beautiful, and to experience the mental activity -corresponding to the successively beautiful. Aesthetic objects adapted -to the pupil's power of appreciation must be provided; but the teacher -should refrain from forcing contemplation. He may, of course, repress -unseemly manifestations, above all the damaging of objects possessing -aesthetic value and entitled to respectful treatment. Frequently -imitative attempts--although very crude at first--in drawing, singing, -reading aloud, and, at a later period, in translating, are indications -of aesthetic attention. Such efforts may be encouraged, but should not -be praised. The genuine warmth of emotion, which in aesthetic culture -kindles of itself, is easily vitiated by intensifying artifices. Excess -of quantity is injurious. Works of art appealing to a higher state of -culture must not be brought down to a lower plane. Art judgments and -criticisms should not be obtruded. - -94. The sympathetic interests depend still more on social intercourse -and family life than the foregoing classes of interests do on -experience in the world of sense. If the social environment changes -frequently, children cannot become deeply attached anywhere. The mere -change of teachers and of schools is fraught with harm. Pupils make -comparisons in their own way; authority that is not permanent has -little weight with them, whereas the impulse to throw off restraint -gains in strength. Instruction is powerless to obviate such evils, -especially since instruction itself must often change its form, -thereby giving the impression of a real difference in teachers. This -fact makes it all the more necessary that the instruction in history -impart to pupils the glow of sympathy due to historical characters and -events. For this reason--a reason of momentous significance to the -whole process of education--history should not be made to present to -pupils the appearance of a chronological skeleton. This rule should be -observed with special care during the earlier lessons in history, since -on these depends largely what sort of impression the whole subject will -produce at a future time. - -Of religious instruction, needless to say, we demand that it shall -bring home to pupils the dependent condition of man, and we confidently -expect that it will not leave their hearts cold. But historical -instruction must cooperate with religious instruction, otherwise the -truths of religion stand isolated, and there is ground for fearing -that they will fail to enter as potent factors into the teaching and -learning of the remaining subjects. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -=The Material of Instruction from Different Points of View= - - -95. Differences in point of view give rise to conflicting opinions -concerning not only the treatment, but also the choice of -subject-matter for instruction. If, now, first one opinion then another -wins predominance over the rest, the harmony of the purposes underlying -both learning and teaching is wanting. Not only that, but the pupils -suffer also directly through the lack of consistency where work is -begun on one plan and continued on another. - -96. The teacher in charge of a given branch of study only too often -lays out his work without taking account of pedagogical considerations. -His specialty, he thinks, suffices to suggest a plan; the successive -steps in its organized content will, of course, be the proper sequence -for instruction to follow. In teaching a language, he insists that -pupils must master declensions and conjunctions in order that he -may read an author with them later. He expects them to understand -ordinary prose before he passes on to elucidate the finished style -of a poet, etc. In mathematics, he demands that pupils bring to the -subject perfect facility in common arithmetic; at a more advanced -stage they must be able to handle logarithms with ease before formulae -requiring their use are reached, etc. In history, the first thing for -him to do is to erect a solid chronological framework to hold the -historical facts to be inserted afterward. For ancient history, he -presupposes a knowledge of ancient geography, etc. This same view which -derives the principle determining the sequence of studies from the -instruction-material itself, as though it had been unconditionally and -finally settled that such and such things _must_ be taught, asserts -itself on a larger scale in requirements for admission to higher -grades or schools. Children are to be able to read, write, and cipher -well before being allowed to enter the grammar school; promotions to -higher grades are to take place only when the goal set for the grade -immediately preceding has been reached. The good pupil, accordingly, -is one who fits into and willingly submits to these arrangements. The -natural consequence of all this is, that little heed is paid to the -condition of attention, namely, the gradual progress of interest. - -97. But still another consequence ensues, occasioning a different -point of view. Pupils are commiserated on the ground that they are -overburdened. All sorts of doubts spring up as to the wisdom of -teaching the branches causing the trouble. Their future utility is -called in question. A host of instances is adduced of adults neglecting -and forgetting--forgetting without appreciable loss--that which it cost -them so much toil to learn. Of course, examples showing the opposite -to be true may also be cited, but that does not settle the question. -It cannot be denied that there are many, even among the educated, who -aspire to nothing higher than freedom from care by means of a lucrative -calling, or a life of social enjoyment, and who, accordingly, estimate -the value of their knowledge by this standard. Such a state of things -is not mended by a kind of instruction that awakens little interest, -and that in after years constitutes the dark side of reminiscences -connected with early youth. - -98. What is urged in reply is, generally speaking, true: youth must be -kept busy; we cannot let children grow up wild. And their occupation -has to be serious and severe, for government (45-55) must not be weak. -But now, more than ever, doubt fastens on the choice of studies. Might -not more useful things be offered for employment? - -If, by way of rejoinder, the ancient languages are commended as being -preeminently suited to give pupils diversity of work, this fact is -accounted for by the faulty methods pursued in teaching the other -subjects. With the proper method the same many-sided activity would -be called forth. For the modern languages especially, the claim is -made that they, too, are language studies involving reading, writing, -translating, and training in the forms of thought. To this argument -the unfortunate answer should not be returned, that the classical high -schools must retain their Latin and Greek because they are educating -future officials to whom the ancient languages are just as useful, nay, -indispensable, as the modern languages to other classes. For, if the -classical studies have once been degraded to the level of the useful -and necessary, the door is thrown open to those who go a step farther -still and demand to know of what use Hebrew is to the country parson, -and Greek to the practising jurist or physician. - -99. Controversies like these have often been conducted as if the -_humaniora_ or humanistic studies were radically opposed to the -_realia_ and could not admit them to partnership. In reality, the -latter are at least as much a legitimate part of a complete education -as the former. The whole matter has been made worse by the practice -of some of the older generation of teachers who, in order to make the -prescribed studies more palatable, descended to all kinds of amusement -and play, instead of laying stress on abiding and growing interest. A -view that regards the end as a necessary evil to be rendered endurable -by means of sweetmeats, implies an utter confusion of ideas; and if -pupils are not given serious tasks to perform, they will not find out -what they are able to do. - -We must, however, note in this connection that there are legitimate -occasions even for the sweetening of study, just as in medicine there -is a place for palliatives, notwithstanding the firm conviction -of the physician that remedies promising a radical cure deserve -the preference. Harmful and reprehensible as habitual playing with -a subject is when it usurps the place of serious and thorough -instruction, in cases where a task is not difficult, but seems so to -the pupil, it often becomes necessary to start him by a dexterous, -cheerful, almost playlike presentation of that which he is to imitate. -Superfluous prolixity and clumsiness, through the ennui alone that -they produce, cause failure in the easiest things. All this applies -especially to the teaching of younger children and to the first lessons -in a new subject, _e.g._, learning to read Greek, the beginning of -algebra, etc. - -100. If, among the conflicting opinions referred to, there is any -vital point of controversy, it lies in the _a priori_ assumption that -certain subjects must be taught (96). Such an assumption educative -instruction cannot allow to be severed from the end aimed at: the -intellectual self-activity of the pupil. This, and not mere knowledge, -any more than utility, determines the point of view with regard to -the instruction-material. Experience and social intercourse are the -primary sources of the pupil's ideas. It is with reference to these two -factors that we estimate strength or weakness in the ideas, and decide -what instruction may accomplish with comparative ease or difficulty, -at an earlier or at a later period. Good child literature turns to -these sources even while children are only just learning to read, and -gradually enlarges their range of thoughts. Not until this has been -done can the question of instruction in one or the other department of -knowledge claim consideration. - - The term _educative instruction_ frequently occurs. It means, - primarily, instruction that has, in the broad sense, an ethical - bearing, or an influence upon character. It is based on the idea - that, not school discipline alone, but also school instruction in - the common branches should be of service to the child in moral and - especially in social growth. The studies help to reveal to him his - place and function in the world, they form his disposition toward men - and things, they give him insight into ethical relations. Instruction - that contains this element of moral training is therefore called - _educative instruction_ (_Erziehender Unterricht_). - -101. The _realia_--natural history, geography, history--possess this -one unquestionable advantage, viz., easy association with experience -and intercourse. Partially, at least, the pupil's spontaneous -ideas (71) may go out toward them. Properly used, collections of -plants, picture-books, maps, will contribute their share. In history, -the fondness of youth for stories is utilized. The fact that these -stories are partly taken from old books written in foreign languages, -and that these languages were once actually spoken, has often to be -mentioned in passing, before the study of these languages themselves is -taken up, nay, even after they have been begun. - -It is useless to undertake a demonstration of the utility of the -_realia_. The young do not act for the sake of the more remote -ends. Pupils work when they feel they can do something; and this -consciousness of power to do must be created. - - The remark that it is useless to undertake to demonstrate to the - young the ultimate utility of natural science studies leads naturally - to a distinction between interest in the studies as ultimate ends - and as immediate ends. It is suggested in this paragraph that pupils - are interested in showing their capacity to accomplish results. - It is very evident that one of the teacher's chief anxieties must - be to awaken an interest in the studies as ends, not perhaps in - their final utility in life, but as fields in which useful work - can be done even in the immediate present. The chief category by - which to measure the pupil's interest in the various activities - of the schoolroom is the quality of work that he can be taught to - accomplish. One need not go far to learn that children like those - studies best in which they can do the best work. This is true in - several respects. They are interested in the artistic perfection - of what they can accomplish, as in drawing, painting, writing, the - arrangement of arithmetical problems, so that the page presents a - neat appearance, and so that all the processes are plainly revealed - to the eye. They are interested in reading when they can call the - words with facility, with neatness, without stumbling, mispronouncing - or miscalling--when the tones of the voice are agreeable. The quality - of the work, however, which appeals perhaps most powerfully to the - children, is that of intellectual comprehension. In the reading class - it is a constant delight to discover the finer shades of meaning, to - express them with the voice, to detect in others any deviation from - the true thought. Reading in English is particularly susceptible - to this kind of treatment. For the English language being largely - devoid of inflections does not show through the form of the words - the finer distinctions of thought, but the mind must perceive these - from a text largely devoid of grammatical inflections. It is quite - possible, therefore, to read in such a manner as to miss all but the - most salient points of the matter presented. There is in reading an - intensive and an extensive magnitude. Our older method of teaching - reading was to devote the time to a few extracts from literary - masterpieces, which were exhausted by minute study. The more recent - tendency in elementary education is to neglect this side of reading - and to devote the time to the cursory reading, not of extracts, but - of whole masterpieces of literature. The danger of such a proceeding - is that the finer qualities of reading will be neglected for the - sake of quantitative mastery of a large amount of reading matter. A - middle course between the two would doubtless bring better results. - It would, on the one hand, secure an interest that attaches to - masterpieces as wholes, and, on the other, the literary appreciation - that comes from minute analysis both in thought and expression of the - finer distinctions of thought. In mathematical studies, the aesthetic - interest of form, or the active interest of actual performance of - problems, is not the sole or even the chief interest that should - be appealed to. But the pupil should feel that he is making a - progressive mastery of the principles of number. It is a pleasure to - apply a rule, to solve a problem neatly; but it is a still greater - pleasure to comprehend thoroughly the meaning of the rule, to grasp - and to feel its universality, so that although it is not worth while, - as Herbart suggests, to urge the ultimate function of mathematics - in the life of the world, it is quite worth while to set up those - immediate ends of interest such as appear in the activity of solving - problems, in the aesthetic appearance of the work upon paper or board - or slate, and in the comprehension of mathematical principles. These - ends are near at hand; they can be made to appeal to the pupil - through the quality of the work that the teacher demands of him. - The same is true in the natural sciences. Even though the ultimate - function of biology is an idea too remote or too complex for the - child to grasp with enthusiasm, the immediate mastery of a principle - in physics, or the discovery of a law of plant life, or of a fact in - chemistry, may be an end in which the pupil's most intense interest - can be excited. - -102. Geometry has other advantages of association, advantages we have -begun only recently to turn to account in earnest. Figures made of -wood or pasteboard, drawings, pegs, bars, flexible wires, strings, the -use of the ruler, of compasses, of the square, counted coins arranged -in long or short, in parallel or diverging series,--all these may be -offered to the eye _ad libitum_ and connected with other concrete -objects. They may be made the basis of systematic employment and -exercises, and this will be done more and more when the fact is once -grasped that concrete ideas possessing the _proper degree of strength_ -constitute the surest foundation of a branch of instruction whose -success depends on the manner in which the pupil forms in his mind the -ideas of spatial relations. This is not grasped, of course, by those -who regard space once for all as a form of sense-perception common -to all minds alike. A careful study of the data of experience will -convince the practical educator that the opposite is true; for in this -respect individual differences are very marked. Pupils rarely hit upon -geometrical constructions unaided; the aptitude for drawing, that is, -for imitating the objects seen, is met with more often. - -It is easy by abstraction to form arithmetical concepts out of the -apprehension of geometrical relations. To do so should not be regarded -as superfluous, not even when the pupil has already fully entered upon -his work in arithmetic. - -103. To Germans the two ancient classical languages do not offer the -advantages of easy transition. On the other hand, the study of Latin, -even if only moderately advanced, prepares the soil for the most -indispensable modern foreign languages. Herein lies an argument against -beginning with French, as was often done formerly. The linking of -Latin to French will, moreover, hardly win the approval of students of -languages, since, not to mention other reasons, Gallicisms are a source -of no little danger to Latinity. - -The ancient languages require long-continued labor. This fact alone -renders it advisable to begin them early. The strangeness of Latin for -Germans should not lead to the conclusion that the study of Latin -should be commenced late, but rather that during the earlier years of -boyhood it should be carried on slowly. The sounds of foreign languages -must be heard early, in order that the strangeness may wear off. Single -Latin words will be easily mastered even by a child. These may soon -be followed by short sentences consisting of two or three words. No -matter if they are forgotten again for a time. That which is said to -be forgotten is not on that account lost. The real difficulty lies in -the multitude of strange elements that accumulate in relatively long -sentences; it lies also in the many ways of connecting subordinate -clauses, in the qualifying insertions, in the order of words, and in -the structure of the period. Furthermore, we must not overlook the fact -that children are very slow to acquire the use of dependent clauses, -even in German; their speech for a long time consists merely of a -stringing together of the simplest sentences. The attempt to advance -them more rapidly in the syntactical forms of Latin than is possible in -their mother-tongue is a waste of time; and, besides, their inclination -to study is put to a very severe test. - - Perhaps the most serious defect of secondary education in the United - States is its brevity. Languages are not begun until the pupil is - well on to fifteen years old. A reform most urgently needed in this - country is the extension of high school influence to the two grades - of the grammar school lying immediately below the high school. This - would enable pupils to begin foreign languages at about the age of - twelve, or two years later than they are now begun in Germany. - -104. The foregoing remarks show plainly enough that in educative -instruction some subjects will be found a comparatively easy and sure -means of awakening intellectual activity, while others involve a more -strenuous effort, which, under certain circumstances, may end in -failure. The concrete studies are nearest to the pupil; mathematics -requires some apparatus to render it tangible and vivid; to get pupils -started properly in modern languages can be but a slow process. But -this difference is, after all, not fundamental enough, nor does it -affect the whole course of instruction sufficiently, to constitute a -serious pedagogical objection to the study of foreign languages, so -long as there is time to teach them. Their fruits mature later. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -=The Process of Instruction= - - -105. Whether or not instruction will begin well and go on properly -depends on a combination of three factors,--the teacher, the pupil, -and the subject taught. Failure of the subject-matter to excite the -pupil's interest is followed by evil consequences moving in a circle. -The pupil seeks to avoid the task set for him; he remains silent -or returns wrong answers; the teacher insists on getting a correct -answer; the lesson is at a standstill; the pupil's dislike grows more -intense. To conquer dislike and indolence, the teacher now refuses -altogether the assistance he could give; as best he may, he compels -the pupil to collect his thoughts, to work by himself, to prepare his -lesson, to memorize, even to apply in written exercises what he knows -but imperfectly, etc. The presentation proper has come to an end; at -all events it has ceased to be consecutive. Now the right kind of an -example is wanting, which the teacher should set--one of reading, -thinking, writing, that implies complete absorption in the subject. -And yet it is this example concretely illustrating how to take hold of -the subject, how to present it, and how to associate it with related -subjects, which effects the best results in good instruction. The -teacher must set such an example, the pupil must imitate it as well as -he can; the teacher must render him active assistance. - -106. Instruction is either synthetic or analytic. In general, the term -_synthetic_ may be applied wherever the teacher himself determines -directly the sequence and grouping of the parts of the lesson; the term -_analytic_, wherever the pupil's own thoughts are expressed first, and -these thoughts, such as they chance to be, are then, with the teacher's -help, analyzed, corrected, and supplemented. But there are many things -under this head that need to be defined and discriminated more sharply. -There are analyses of experience, of facts learned in school, and of -opinions. There is one kind of synthesis which imitates experience; -there is another kind which consists in constructing designedly a whole -whose component parts have been presented one by one previously. - -Here, again, many differences arise, owing to diversities inherent in -the subject-matter. - -107. Since instruction builds on the pupil's experience, we shall deal -first with that form of synthesis which imitates, or copies experience. -We may name it _purely presentative instruction_. The term _synthetic_, -on the other hand, will henceforth be reserved for that form of -instruction which reveals clearly the process of building up a whole -out of parts presented singly beforehand. - -The purely presentative method of instruction, although practicable -only to a limited extent, is nevertheless so effectual as to entitle it -to separate treatment, so effectual that the teacher--and this is the -main thing--will do well to train himself carefully in its use. Skill -in this direction is the surest means of securing interest. - -It is customary to demand that the pupil acquire facility in narration -and description, but we ought not to forget that here above all the -teacher must lead the way by setting a good example. To be sure, there -is an abundance of printed narrative and description, but reading does -not produce the effect that hearing does. _Viva vox docet._ As a rule, -we cannot take for granted that a boy has even the skill and patience -required for reading; and if perfect facility has been attained, the -reading is done too rapidly. There is too much hurry to get to the -end, or too much delay over the wrong passages, so that the connection -is lost. At the most, we may let the pupils that read exceptionally -well read aloud to the class. By far the surer means to the end in -view is the oral presentation by the teacher. But in order that such -presentation may produce its effect undisturbed, it needs to be -perfectly free and untrammelled. - -108. The first requisite for free oral presentation is a cultivated -style of speaking. Many teachers need to be warned against the use -of set phrases, against mere expletives, faulty enunciation, pauses -filled in with inarticulate sounds, against fragments of sentences, -clumsy parentheses, etc. - -In the second place, adaptation of the vocabulary employed, both to the -subject-matter and to the intelligence of the pupils, and adjustment of -phraseology to the pupil's stage of culture are essential. - -Lastly, careful memorizing. At first this should be done almost -verbatim. At all events, the teacher must prepare his lesson as though -he had his pupils before him and were talking to them. Later on he -must memorize at least the facts and turning-points of the subject to -be presented, in order that he may not be compelled to consult books -or look at notes. A few remarks on some particular points will be made -farther on. - -109. The effect of the teacher's narrative and description should be to -make the pupil realize events and objects as vividly as if they were -actually present to his eye and ear. The pupil must, therefore, have -actually heard and seen much previously. This recalls to our minds the -necessity, pointed out before, of first enlarging the young pupil's -range of experience, when found too limited, through excursions and -the exhibition of objects. Again, this form of instruction is adapted -only to things that might be heard or seen. We must therefore avail -ourselves of all the help pictures can give. - -If the presentation has been a success, the reproduction by the pupils -will show that they recall, not merely the main facts, but largely even -the teacher's language. They have retained more exactly than they have -been asked to do. Besides, the teacher who narrates and describes well -gains a strong hold on the affections of his pupils; he will find them -more obedient in matters pertaining to discipline. - - The foregoing paragraphs on presentative instruction may seem strange - to the American teacher. We must remember, however, that they were - written before the modern era of text-books, when, in point of fact, - the teacher was practically the sole reliance for the facts that the - children were to learn. It is the custom, even to the present, in - the lower schools of Germany, to rely very largely upon the teacher - for the information which the children are to acquire. In American - schools, this method is not followed, for so enormous has been the - development of text-book industry, that in every field of education - the richest material is offered to the schools in the form of - text-books. There is, however, still a legitimate field for purely - presentative instruction in the earlier grades of the elementary - school, especially in literature and in the beginnings of history. - The most primitive method of instruction, as we see clearly in the - earlier periods of Grecian education, was the narrative. The children - of those days received their instruction in history, mythology, - literature, geography, by listening to the tales of heroes and - heroic deeds narrated by their parents, by wandering minstrels and - rhapsodists. To this day, the teacher who can narrate biographical - or literary matter in an attractive manner is sure to awaken intense - interest in the children under her control. Perhaps one facility - which the modern teacher needs to acquire more than any other is - the capacity of happy, vivacious, interesting narrative cast, at - the same time, into simple yet excellent literary form. Such a - teacher is an undoubted treasure in the primary school. There is - occasion, moreover, in nearly all school study for the presentation - of supplementary material in almost every school study. This is true - especially in literature and history. It is also true in geography - and in mathematics, as where, for instance, the teacher narrates the - methods of the ancient Egyptians in the development of geometrical - ideas, or those of the Greeks. If one is teaching a foreign language, - one may always find happy opportunities for introducing bits of - history, biography, or other illuminating material. In the sciences - nothing is more interesting to children, more stimulative of renewed - effort, than narratives concerning our great scientists, their desire - for education, their struggle to attain knowledge, their misfortunes, - and their triumphs. Every aspect of instruction may be supplemented - and illumined by instruction given in the purely presentative form of - narration. - -110. While skilful presentation produces results akin to an extension -of the pupil's range of actual experience, analysis helps to make -experience more instructive. For, left to itself, experience is not a -teacher whose instruction is systematic. It does not obey the law of -actual progress from the simple to the complex. Things and events crowd -in upon the mind in masses; the result is often chaotic apprehension. -Inasmuch, then, as experience presents aggregates before it gives the -component particulars, it becomes the task of instruction to reverse -this order and to adjust the facts of experience to the sequence -demanded in teaching. Experience, it is true, associates its content; -but if this earlier association is to have the share in the work of the -school that it should have, that which has been experienced and that -which has been learned must be made to harmonize. With this end in view -we need to supplement experience. The facts it has furnished have to -be made clearer and more definite than they are, and must be given an -appropriate embodiment in language. - -111. Let us consider first the earliest stage of analytic instruction. -In order to understand the significance of this method of teaching, we -must examine the nature of a child's experience. Children are indeed -in the habit of familiarizing themselves with their surroundings; but -the strongest impressions predominate. Objects in motion have greater -attraction for them than objects at rest. They tear up and destroy -without troubling themselves much about the real connection between -the parts of a whole. In spite of their many why's and what for's, -they make use of every tool or utensil without regard for its purpose; -they are satisfied if it serves the impulse of the moment. Their eyes -are keen, but they rarely observe; the real character of things does -not deter them from making a plaything of everything, as their fancy -may direct, and from making one thing stand for every other thing. -They receive total impressions of similar objects, but do not derive -concepts; the abstract does not enter their minds of itself. - -These and similar observations, however, apply by no means equally to -every child. On the contrary, children differ greatly from one another; -and, with the child's individuality, his one-sidedness already begins. - -112. It follows at once that the first thing to be done, in a school -where many children are to be taught together, is to make the children -more alike in their knowledge. To this end the store of experiences -which they bring with them must be worked over. But the homogeneity of -pupils, desirable as it is, is not the sole aim. We must take care also -that the whole of instruction acts upon the particular stock of ideas -of each pupil taken individually. We must seek those points of contact -and departure to which attention has repeatedly been called above, and -hence cannot leave the pupil's mass of ideas in its original crude -state. Thoughtful teachers have long since testified to the necessity -of this requirement, which mere scholars in their zeal for learning -fail again and again to appreciate. - -Niemeyer, in his widely read work, opens his treatment of the -particular laws of instruction with a chapter entitled: "The First -Steps in awakening Attention and Reflection through Instruction, -or Exercises in Thinking." These exercises are no other than the -elementary processes of analytic instruction. He says: "When the age, -the health, and the strength of children have made instruction proper -seem expedient, the first lesson should be one of the kind described -in the chapter heading. Such exercises might be profitably continued -in some form or other until the ninth or tenth year, and probably even -later. The fact that it is not easy to describe them in a word very -likely explains why we fail to find them in most programmes of private -and public schools. That at last some attention is being given even -in the common schools to this matter is one of the venerable Canon -Rochow's imperishable services to education." - -Pestalozzi, in his book for mothers, strikes out in the same direction. -It will not serve the purpose, to be sure, to confine oneself, as he -does, to a single object; still, the kind of exercises is indicated -very definitely by him; indeed, more definitely, in some ways, than by -Niemeyer. - -113. The notions of pupils about surrounding objects, that is, notions -in which the strongest impressions predominate (111), must be made to -approach uniformity first. This is accomplished by uniform reproduction. - -On this point Niemeyer says, "The teacher should begin by talking with -his pupils about those objects which are, at the time, affecting their -senses directly. Pointing to these objects, he asks the pupils to name -them. He then passes on to things that are not present, but that the -children have seen or felt before. At the same time he exercises their -powers of imagination and expression by making them enumerate what they -are able to recall. Suitable material: everything in the schoolroom; -the human body; everything pertaining to food, dress, comfort; things -found in the fields, in the garden, in the yard; animals and plants so -far as they are known by the children." - -114. The next step consists in pointing out the main facts of a given -whole, the relative position of these parts, their connection, and -their movability, if they can be moved without damage. To this are -properly linked the simplest facts concerning the uses of things. At -the same time children are taught how they must _not_ use things, and -how, instead of ruining them, they ought to look after them and use -them with care. The abundance and number of things, their size, form, -and weight, should likewise be referred to as early as this stage, and -should furnish occasion for comparisons. - -But something more is needed to give distinctness to the ideas of -pupils, and to prepare the way for future abstract thinking. Beginning -first with the objects, we derive from them the predicates by searching -out the attributes; this done, we must in turn make the predicates -our starting-point, and classify the objects under the heads thus -obtained. This distinction has been made before by Pestalozzi; it is -one of fundamental importance in the preparation for generalization. -While engaged in such work pupils will of themselves learn to compare, -to discriminate, and, in some instances, to observe more accurately: -erroneous notions due to an active imagination will be corrected by the -appeal to experience as the source of knowledge. - -115. Of what remains to be done, the most important task consists in -securing a comprehensive view of a somewhat extended time-series, of -which objects, together with their natural or artificial origins, -are members. An elementary knowledge will thus be gained, especially -of the simplest facts about manufacturing processes, and about -intercourse among human beings, which facts will serve subsequently as -the groundwork for instruction in natural history and geography. But -for history also the way must be prepared by referring, although only -in the most general way, to times when the utensils and tools of the -present had not yet been invented, when the arts of to-day were as yet -unknown, and when people were still without those materials that are -now imported from foreign countries. - -116. It does not follow, because no definite periods are set apart -for the instruction described, that it is not being given at all. We -may find it incorporated, to a large extent, with something else, -particularly with the interpretation of elementary reading matter, -which forms part of the first work in the mother-tongue. Nevertheless, -a subject that is taught only incidentally is always liable to suffer, -if not from indifference, at least from inadequate treatment. - -On the other hand, we cannot fail to recognize that the appointment -of separate periods for analytic instruction may prove difficult, -owing to the fact that the rate of progress depends so largely on -the stock of ideas pupils bring with them, and on their readiness to -utter what they think and feel. Besides, while Niemeyer expressly -says, "Children taught in this manner know nothing of tedium," he also -hastens to add, "but it is easy to spoil them by too rapid changes -of subject." The same, or similar bad consequences, may result from -other school exercises where the teacher himself supplies a profusion -of instruction-material, and so relieves his pupils of the trouble of -gathering such material from their own recollections. On the whole, -therefore, it will be well enough to set apart but few hours, or weeks, -for the first attempts; and these can be made a part of the lessons in -the mother-tongue. - -In private instruction the difficulty spoken of is not encountered. -Besides, the ample opportunities afforded for observing the pupil's -store of ideas make it easy to devise a suitable plan for the earliest -analytic teaching. - - In the foregoing paragraphs on analytical instruction, the question - naturally arises, "Is such instruction to be regarded as an end - in itself, or as a means for preparing the mind for more perfect - assimilation of the subject-matter to be presented from day to day in - the various studies?" Since the time these paragraphs were written, - not only Germany herself, but also America has gone through a varied - experience with respect to what we call object teaching. It was at - one time conceived that a specific hour should be set apart each day - for instructing the children in the observation of objects. In other - words, object lessons were a distinct part of the programme. It was - supposed that in this way the children could be made conscious of the - significance of their environment, and that it was highly desirable - that such an end should be brought about. In Germany the same effort - was undertaken under the name of _Anschauungsunterricht_, but since - the multiplication of text-books, and the increased pressure upon - the schools brought about through the introduction of new subjects - of study, it has been found inadvisable to devote a specific period - of the day to isolated analytic instruction upon objects. Such - instruction, however, has by no means passed from the field of - usefulness, even in our very best schools. The necessity of appealing - powerfully to previous experience, in and out of the schoolroom, as a - basis for understanding a matter presented in the daily lessons, is - everywhere recognized. From being an end of school work, therefore, - analytic instruction has passed to the realm of a useful means for - arousing the mental activity of the children concerning the regular - lessons of the schoolroom. It is, in modern terms, an apperceptive - basis for all instruction. - -117. At a later time analytic instruction reappears in other forms, -those of review and the correction of written exercises. The teacher -has presented a body of facts; he has furnished the helps necessary for -the solution of certain problems. What he has given, the pupils are -expected to produce again in their review exercises and essays. Where -necessary, their work is analyzed and corrected. - -In conducting reviews a pedagogical blunder is apt to be made--a -blunder that brings on the evils specified in a former paragraph (105); -review is confounded with examination. The two are radically different. -If the teacher could be sure of both perfect attention and full -comprehension, he himself would go over the ground covered by his first -talk once more for the purpose of assisting the memory; the pupils -would not be called upon to take part. In this case, we should have -neither analytic instruction nor anything resembling an examination. -As a matter of fact, however, pupils are usually asked to reproduce -what and as much as they remember. This is easily taken to mean that -they should have retained everything, which, strictly speaking, is -not expected even in an examination. The purpose of an examination is -to ascertain the actual state of knowledge, whatever it may prove to -be; reviews are conducted for the purpose of increasing and deepening -knowledge. If an examination is followed by praise or censure, well and -good; a review has nothing to do with either. - -Since reviewing and drilling, which resembles the former, claim the -larger portion of the time devoted to school work, it will be worth -while to examine the subject somewhat more closely. - -118. Repetition of several ideas intensifies those ideas. It does -more than that. If they are of opposed nature, the reciprocal arrest -that ensues resists their fusion less during the reproduction than -it did in the original act of apprehension. The fusion increases in -completeness, and, besides, becomes more uniform, _i.e._, the weaker -ideas hold their own better alongside of the stronger. Again, if a -series of successive ideas is repeated, the first members of the series -of themselves tend to reproduce those that follow before the latter are -repeated--a tendency gathering energy in proportion to the frequency of -repetition. This fact underlies the increase in rapidity which comes -with growing skill. Extraneous thoughts, however, very easily interrupt -the psychical process of reproduction. - -Let us assume that the teacher's presentation has been an adequate one -and has lasted no longer than the capacity of the pupils permitted, -only a few minutes, perhaps. He himself might now repeat; but asks -his pupils to do so, lest their thoughts begin to wander from the -subject in hand. He comes to their aid and repeats only when their own -attempts have failed. But very often they have retained some things and -forgotten others. In this case it becomes his business to reinforce -the ideas striving to rise into consciousness, but without disturbing -their movement. In other words, he should prompt neither more nor less, -should lend aid neither sooner nor later, than will serve to make the -pupil's train of thought coincide as nearly as possible with that of -the presentation properly given. Unless this is done, the reproduction -fails to effect the required association and facility. The same ground -is gone over again and again in vain; fatigue sets in, and the wrong -association takes place--a matter for grave apprehension. If the pupils -are in an unresponsive mood, the teacher must go slow, for the time -being; if interest is lacking, he cannot incite the proper movement of -ideas. If the teacher is not conducting the repetition with skill, the -fragmentary answers of the pupils indicate well enough after a time -that the desired current of thought has not been generated. - -119. We have taken it for granted that the presentation was an adequate -one--one that might serve as a model (105). Where this adjustment of -means and ends extends, as it may, even to the language, the latter -should be closely followed in the repetition, but without pedantic -insistence on unimportant details. But very frequently the essential -feature of the presentation is found in the sequence of thought. In -that case expression will vary, and the teacher is satisfied at first -if, in repeating, the pupils furnish evidence that they understand; he -allows them to use their own words, though less appropriate. He must, -still, however, look carefully after the given sequence, which the -repetition is to reproduce with the greatest possible coherence. - -120. The case is different when later on larger sections of a course -of successful instruction are to be repeated. During all the earlier -stage particular facts were moved far apart (68) for the sake of -clearness; by means of conversation, or of incidental mention in other -recitations, or through experience itself (110), provision was made -also for association of various kinds. Now it becomes the business of -repetition in the first place to gather together into a smaller compass -what has been expanded; next it subserves the purpose of systematic -arrangement, and lastly, is often of use for making the instruction -more complete and for adding the difficult to the comparatively easy. -Here the mode of presentation itself changes to meet the requirements -of a more advanced grade of work. But repetition immediately after -the presentation, or, perhaps, during the next hour, will, as a rule, -remain necessary even at this higher stage. - -121. Here, where compression and insertions are to modify the material -of instruction, we need to inquire into the forms of connection -peculiar to the objects, together with those essential for use, and to -determine accordingly the series and web of ideas to be formed in the -mind of the pupil. For such organization of ideas, repetition is, at -all events, far better adapted than presentation, which can traverse -only one of several series at a time, and which passes into repetition -the moment an effort is made to bring the other series forward also. -In natural history, for example, various classifications occur, in -history the ethnographic divisions are crossed by the synchronistic, -while the history of culture demands yet another basis of association; -in geography each noted city is to be a landmark, enabling the pupil -to take his bearings in every direction, but cities on rivers suggest -river basins and mountain ranges; in mathematics each theorem is to -be kept ready for separate application, but it has also its special -place in the chain of demonstrations; grammatical rules, too, should be -available when called for, but it is very necessary at the same time -that the pupil become perfectly at home in his grammar and know where -to look for information. - -The teacher who, by skilful repetition, does justice to these multiform -associations, is not always the one who shows most skill in systematic -presentation, and who knows best how to make prominent the main -thoughts, and to link to them those that are subordinate. - -122. The impulse to repeat must, as a rule, come from points with -which pupils are familiar. It is further requisite that the teacher, -in conducting the repetition, adapt himself to their train of thought; -he must not adhere strictly to an inflexible plan. The necessary -corrections require delay here and there; the corrected statements -often constitute new points from which to take bearings. At times -the pupils themselves should feel free to indicate which topics it -seems most necessary to repeat. By so doing they assume a certain -responsibility as to the rest, and are made to realize all the more -their obligation to make up deficiencies. - -123. The correction of written work likewise falls under the head of -analytic instruction, but the toil exceeds the profit if written work -is demanded too early. While writing the pupil consolidates his ideas. -Now if he does so incorrectly, the effect is mischievous, his mistakes -cling to him. Moreover, the teacher has to be on his guard lest, while -orally correcting and reading over the composition, he overestimate -the pupil's attention. When many slips occur, when a whole forest of -mistakes is found to have sprung up, the pupil becomes indifferent -to them all; they make humble, but they also dishearten. Such tasks -should, therefore, be very brief, if the pupil is weak; nay, it is -preferable to have none at all, as long as progress is being made more -surely by a different kind of exercises. - -The teacher who assigns home work with a view to saving labor in school -miscalculates utterly; his work will soon have become all the harder. - -To many it seems that the exercises they assign should be very -easy, rather than short; and to make them easy, outlines, turns of -expression, everything, is indicated as definitely as possible. This -is a delusion. If composition has any purpose, it consists in making -the pupil try to see what he can do without the teacher. Now if the -pupil actually gets started on the exercise, the teacher ought not to -step in his way with all sorts of prescriptions. If the pupil fails to -make headway, the attempt was premature. We must either wait or else -shorten the task, no matter if it should shrink to no more than three -lines. Three lines of the pupil's own work are better than three pages -written by direction. It may take years before the self-deception due -to leading-string methods is superseded by a true estimate of the -pupil's actual power. - -124. The case is quite different if, before writing, the pupil has been -assisted orally in developing his thoughts. This kind of analysis is of -special importance in later boyhood; but the teacher should see to it -that the pupil gives free expression to his own opinion. If he does, -a theme has been furnished for discussion during which the teacher -will avoid harsh dissent in proportion to his eagerness to accomplish -something with his pupil. To rebuke presuming boldness or impudence is -a different matter, of course. - -Self-chosen themes are preferable by far to those that are assigned, -only they cannot be expected of the majority of pupils. But when they -do turn up, the character of the choice alone, but still more the -execution, will throw light on the opinions current among the pupils, -and on the impressions which not only the school, but experience and -society as well, have been constantly at work to produce. The writer's -individuality reveals itself even more distinctly. Every teacher must -be prepared to come upon these individual traits, however much he -might prefer to have his pupils reflect himself. It would be futile if -he attempted to correct their essays by interpolating his own view; -he would not by that means make the latter their own. The mode of -treatment can be corrected; but other opportunities will have to serve -for the rectification of opinions--provided this can ever be undertaken -successfully. - -125. With regard to synthetic instruction, we assume at the outset -that it will be supported during the whole course of training by the -merely presentative and the analytic methods of teaching, wherever -these are in place. Otherwise the ultimate result will always remain -problematical, particularly the union of learning and life. - -Synthetic instruction brings in much that is new and strange; and -we must take advantage of the universal charm of novelty. It must -cooperate with acquired habits of application, and with the interest -peculiar to each subject taught. The affairs, not of Italy alone, but -also those of Greece and the Orient, have become a matter of everyday -discussion. There has been a general diffusion of knowledge about the -facts and laws of nature. Hence even younger children cannot help but -pick up many things now that will tend to forestall the indifference or -aversion with which school studies were regarded not longer than fifty -years ago. They seemed to be something foreign to life. At present, it -cannot prove difficult to turn curiosity in the direction of distant -lands, and of past ages even, especially where collections of rare -articles and antiquities are accessible. This stimulation would not -persist long, however, in the face of the labor of learning, if there -did not exist at the same time a widespread conviction of the necessity -of study, a conviction reinforced by the legal requirements of schools, -particularly of the gymnasia. Accordingly, families exert a good -influence with respect to the industry of children; and with the right -sort of government and training in school, willingness to learn is -easily secured. Less easy is it to incite a genuinely scientific desire -to know, one that will endure beyond examinations. This brings us back -to many-sidedness of interest (83-94). If interest were not already the -end of instruction, we should have to look upon it as the only means -whereby the results of teaching can be given permanence. - -Interest depends partly, it is true, on native capacity, which the -school cannot create; but it depends also on the subject-matter of -instruction. - -126. Synthetic instruction must offer subjects capable of arousing -lasting and spontaneously radiating interest. That which affords only -temporary pleasure or light entertainment is of too little consequence -to determine the plan of operation. Nor can the choice of such studies -be recommended as stand isolated, as do not lead to continued effort; -for, other reasons aside, we are unable to decide beforehand to -which of the main classes of interest (83-94) the individual pupil -will especially incline. The first place belongs rather to those -studies which appeal to the mind in a variety of ways and are capable -of stimulating each pupil according to his individuality. For such -subjects ample time must be allowed; they must be made the object -of prolonged, diligent effort. We may then hope that they will take -hold in some way, and we shall be in a position to know what kind of -interest they have inspired in one pupil or another. Where, on the -contrary, the end of the thread of work is soon reached, it remains -questionable whether any effort at all will be produced, let alone a -lasting impression. - -127. The subject-matter having been chosen, the treatment must be -adjusted to it in such a way as to bring it within reach of the pupils. -For the exercises growing out of such treatment, the well-known -rule holds in general: the easy before the difficult, or, more -specifically, that which prepares the way before that which cannot -be firmly grasped without preliminary knowledge. To insist, however, -on perfect mastery in this respect, is often equivalent to scaring -away interest. Absolute proficiency in preliminary knowledge is a -late achievement, nor is it attained without fatigue. The teacher has -to be satisfied if the mastery acquired is such that what is lacking -can, without serious delay, be added by him in practice. To make the -road so level as to do away entirely with the necessity for occasional -leaps (96), means to provide for the convenience of the teacher rather -than for that of the pupils. The young love to climb and jump; they -do not take kindly to an absolutely level path. But they are afraid -in the dark. There must be light enough for them to see by; in other -words, the subject must lie spread out before their eyes with such -distinctness that each step is seen to be a step forward, which brings -them perceptibly nearer to a distant goal. - -128. With regard to the sequence of studies we need to distinguish -first of all between preparatory knowledge and ability to do. As is -well known, the latter, even when it has been fully attained, can -be secured against loss only by long-continued practice. Hence the -practice of the pupil's skill must go on constantly from the time -when he first learns to apply what he knows. But merely preliminary -knowledge, which produced fatigue before it was mastered, may be -allowed to drop out of the memory. Enough remains to make it easier -to resume the subject at a later time (92, 103). Accordingly, not the -preliminary knowledge just referred to, but the pupil's facility in -doing, supplies the principle determining sequence. In the case of all -essential elementary information--knowledge of rudiments of grammar, -arithmetic, and geometry--it will be found expedient to begin with -the simplest elements long before any practical application is made. -In such first lessons individual facts only are presented. These are -made clear to the pupils (68, 69); here and there they are associated. -Fatigue is avoided if possible. Even if the earliest attempts at -memorizing should prove successful, it will be safer, instead of -relying on this fact, to postpone the whole matter for a time. At a -later period the same subject is resumed from the beginning without -any demand on the teacher's part that some things should have been -retained. This time, however, it will be possible to introduce a -somewhat larger quantity of the instruction-material, and it will not -be too early to make pupils perceive the connection between individual -facts. If pupils experience difficulty in comprehending, we should -be careful not to advance too rapidly; the greater the difficulty, -the greater the need for caution. When the time comes for practical -application, an earnest, diligent effort must be insisted on, but only -for tasks of moderate length, and without exacting too much by harsh -means. Not every pupil can do everything. Sometimes a pupil will at a -later period acquire the power he does not possess now, if only his -chances for success have not been spoiled by earlier blindness on the -part of his teacher. - -129. Again, corresponding to each stage of instruction, there is a -certain capacity for apperceiving attention (77) which deserves careful -consideration. For we ought to avail ourselves of the comparatively -easy in order to facilitate indirectly what would otherwise prove -difficult and time-consuming. - -We need to distinguish between insertion and continuation, and to -connect this distinction with the division of ideas into spontaneous -and induced (71). It is easier to fill in between familiar points than -it is to continue, because the continued series is in close contact -with the well known only at the starting-point. Easiest of all is -insertion between free-rising ideas, between those ideas that occur -to the pupil spontaneously, when he has been led into a certain field -of consciousness. Hardest of all, and least certain of success, is -the continuation of lessons that can be revived in consciousness only -by a laborious effort of memory. Intermediate in difficulty are the -insertion of new elements between induced or reproduced ideas, and -continuation on the basis of free-rising, or spontaneous, ideas. That -there may be many gradations besides is of course self-evident. - -The teacher who knows his pupils well will be able to make frequent use -of these distinctions. Only a very general outline of their application -can be given here. - -The realia and mathematics can be connected more easily than other -studies with the pupil's experience (101, 102). If the teacher has -properly availed himself of this advantage, he may count on ideas -that rise spontaneously, and his task will then consist in first -establishing a few suitable cardinal points so that insertions may be -made farther on. - -Languages present more serious difficulties. It is true that progress -in the vernacular is made through apperception by the pupil's earlier -attainments in his mother-tongue, and through the insertion of the new -into the old. But in foreign languages, which associate themselves -with the mother-tongue only gradually, apperception and insertion -cannot take place until after some knowledge of the language has been -acquired. And this knowledge must grow considerably before we can -reasonably look for spontaneous ideas. If now the reproduced ideas -become encumbered with additional new ones, worst of all through mere -continuation, we need not wonder if the result is useless chaos. - -This explains, no doubt, why the attempts to teach the ancient -languages _ex usu_, after the manner in which the language of a foreign -country is easily learned by residence in that country, had to end in -failure. One who learns French in France has persons and actions before -his eyes; he easily infers that which concerns him. Such apperception -takes place undoubtedly by means of spontaneous ideas with which the -foreign language becomes associated. Before long the language itself -becomes an apperceiving factor and participates in the process of -learning. For the ancient languages, on the contrary, a grammatical -working basis is needed first, especially a knowledge of inflectional -endings, pronouns, and particles. The blunder should not be made, to -be sure, of beginning with a marshalling of the hosts of grammar, as -though grammar itself needed no base of operations. Long practice of -what is most necessary must precede. But the worst plan would be to -start in with cursory reading; in other words, to continue without -making sure of anything. - -Even cursory reading, however, produces good results under one -condition; namely, the existence of a lively interest in the contents. - -130. When the thoughts of the reader hasten on in advance of the words -and get hold of the general sense correctly, the required apperception -is performed by means of spontaneous ideas together with the insertion -of whatever was not inferred. But this presupposes a very favorable -relation of the book to the reader. Hence texts used in the teaching -of a language must be chosen with very great care, and their contents -explained. - -Such work should not be slighted in favor of grammar; on the other -hand, as much grammar must be given as is necessary. Some of the -essentials will have to precede the reading; complementary facts will -be presented in connection with the reading; other portions of the -grammatical apparatus will be introduced at suitable halting-places. -Written exercises belong elsewhere and stand in a different relation to -grammar. - -The interest in an author depends very largely on historical -preparation; here we cannot fail to discover connection between -philology and the so-called real studies. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -=Remarks on the Plan of Instruction as a Whole= - - -131. Where many diverse means are to cooperate for the attainment of -one end, where many obstacles have to be overcome, where persons of -higher, equal, and lower rank enter as factors requiring consideration, -it is always a difficult matter to keep the end itself, the one fixed -goal, steadily in view. In instruction the difficulty is increased -by the fact that no one single teacher can impart the whole, and -that consequently a number of teachers are obliged to depend on -one another. But for this very reason, however much circumstances -may vary the courses of study, the common end, namely, many-sided, -well-balanced, well-connected interest, in the achievement of which -the true development of mental powers consists, needs to be lifted -into prominence as the one thing toward which all details of procedure -should point. - -132. No more time, we need to realize at the outset, should be demanded -for instruction than is consistent with the proviso that the pupils -retain their natural buoyancy of spirits. This must be insisted on, -and not merely for the sake of health and physical vigor; a more -direct argument for our present purpose lies in the fact that all art -and labor employed to keep the attention awake will be thwarted by -the disinclination to study caused by sitting too long, and even by -excessive mental application alone. Forced attention does not suffice -for instruction, even though it may be had through disciplinary -measures. - -It is urgently necessary that every school have not only spacious -schoolrooms, but also a playground; it is further necessary that each -recitation be followed by an intermission, that after the first two -periods permission be granted for exercise in the open air, and that -the same permission be given after the third period if there is a -fourth to follow. - -Still more urgent is the demand that pupils shall not be deprived of -their hours of needed recreation by an excessive amount of school work -to be done at home. The teacher who loads pupils down with home tasks -in order to dispense as much as possible with perhaps uncertain home -supervision, substitutes a certain and general evil for a possible and -partial one. - -The neglect of such precautions has given rise in recent times to -very bitter complaints, which will continue to be heard in future -for similar reasons. Violent gymnastic exercise is not the means to -put a stop to them. They threaten to lead to another extreme--such -restrictions upon instruction as will make an inner unity of work -impossible. - - The subjects of fatigue and school hygiene have now grown to - unexpected dimensions. Many periodicals are devoted to them, while - the volume of literature bearing upon them has passed the stage where - one person can be expected to command it all. In his "Bibliography - of School Hygiene," published in the "Proceedings of the National - Educational Association for 1898," Professor William H. Burnham - enumerates four hundred and thirty-six standard works, articles, and - journals dedicated to this cause. Many of these books, like those of - Eulenberg and Bach, or Burgerstein and Netolitzky, comprise hundreds - of pages, being based on extended experiment and research. - -133. The time properly belonging to instruction must not be scattered. -The deep-rooted practice of assigning two hours per week to one study -and two hours to another, each lesson separated from the next by an -interval of two or three days, is absurd, because incompatible with -continuity of presentation. Of course, if the teacher can stand this -arrangement, the pupils will have to endure it. - -The subjects of instruction must be taken up in order that each may -have its share of continuous time. To give a whole term to each is not -always practicable; frequently shorter periods will have to suffice. - -Again, one subject must not be split into several, according to the -names of its branches. If, for example, we should set apart separate -hours for Greek and Roman antiquities and again for mythology in -addition to the time designated for the reading of ancient authors, -separate hours for the systematic survey of the branches of knowledge -besides those reserved for German in the highest class of the -gymnasium, separate hours for analytic geometry alongside of algebra, -we should tear asunder where we ought to join together, and should -dissipate the time at our disposal. - -Saving time depends on methods better than these,--on proficiency in -presenting a subject and skill in conducting recitations. - - Despite the protest here entered, German schools still adhere to the - plan of presenting many subjects simultaneously, few hours per week - being devoted to each. American schools are fairly free from the - reproach, it being an exception to find standard subjects taught less - than four or five times per week. - -134. As boys grow older, they may derive a great deal of profit from -reading and doing many things by themselves. Following their own -choice, they develop in accordance with their individual traits. We -question, however, the wisdom of calling for reports on such outside -pursuits. Pupils of ordinary capacity should not be made ambitious -to imitate what they are not fitted for; extensive reading must not -impair feeling and thinking. Breadth of learning is not identical with -depth, and cannot make up for lack of depth. Instead of reading, some -engage in the study of a fine art. Others are compelled at an early -age to give lessons in order to support themselves. These learn while -teaching. - -The essentials of a coherent scheme of studies must not be dependent -on outside reading; they must be embraced in the plan of instruction -itself. - -135. From beginning to end the course of study must be arranged so as -to provide for each of the main classes of interest. The empirical -interest, to be sure, is called forth everywhere more easily than -any of the other kinds. But religious instruction always fosters -sympathetic interest; in this it must have the assistance of history -and language study. Aesthetic culture at first depends on the work in -the mother-tongue; it is desirable to have, in addition, instruction in -singing, which at the same time promotes the health of the pupil. Later -on, the ancient classics contribute their share of influence. Training -in thinking is afforded by analytic, grammatical, and mathematical -instruction; toward the end, also, by the study of history, which then -becomes a search for causes and effects. Cooperation of this sort is to -be sought everywhere; the authors to be studied must be selected with -this end in view, and interpreted accordingly. - - If there is a defect in Herbart's scheme of interests as a guide - to the selection of the studies of the curriculum, it lies in the - fact that the interests named are too exclusively applied to the - pupil's individual life, and not enough to his life as a member - of the social whole. There is an important sense in which even - natural science, which may be expected to cultivate the speculative - interests, is social; for science becomes truly significant only - when it contributes to the service of men. The fact that we now live - in an industrial age, that life is preserved from disease in so large - a measure, that the well-being of every community is advancing so - rapidly, that universal education is now a fact rather than a dream, - is due to the application of science to human welfare. Consequently, - we are not restricted to a few humanitarian topics, like history and - literature, for the development of our social interests. We find that - every study has its sociological as well as its personal bearings. On - the other hand, since all studies are both subjective and objective - in the interests they arouse, it would be possible to awaken all the - six classes of interest enumerated by teaching but a fraction of - what we now consider needful in a good curriculum. It would seem, - therefore, that the six classes of interest, at best, indicate what - the _quality_ of our teaching should be, not with sufficient accuracy - _what_ subjects should be taught. The latter is determined quite as - much by social as by psychological needs. - - - - -SECTION III - -TRAINING - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=The Relation of Training to Government and to Instruction= - - -136. Training looks toward the pupil's future. It is founded on hope, -and shows itself, to begin with, in patience. It tempers government, -the object of which might perhaps be realized more speedily by greater -rigor. It moderates even instruction in case the latter puts too great -a strain upon the pupil. But it also combines with government as well -as instruction, and lightens their work. - -Training consists primarily in a certain personal attitude, identical -if possible with a kind way of treating pupils. This implies readiness -on the part of the teacher to listen to the wishes and utterances of -the pupil, who, in the midst of strangers, looks to his teacher (and to -the family in charge of his education) for sympathy and support. But -training becomes active where the pupil needs help, especially help -against his own weaknesses and faults, which might frustrate the hopes -centred in him. - -137. Training insists on becoming conduct; it encourages cheerfulness -of disposition. In either case it remains within limits compatible -with the occupations connected with government and instruction. The -pupil is never to lose sight of the subject on which he is engaged; it -would be bad if a desire to show off, or to amuse himself, should take -possession of him and cause him to forget his work. - -The wise teacher will be glad to make himself personally agreeable to -his pupil as long as the conduct of the latter does not call for the -opposite treatment. Supervision grows less irksome in consequence. -Gentle words forestall, if anything can, all severer measures. - -138. The teacher does not look upon the progress resulting from his -teaching with feelings of indifference. His sympathy, even solicitude -it may be, cooperates powerfully with the greater or lesser degree -of interest awakened in the learner. Training, however, can never be -made a substitute where there is no interest or, worse still, where -indifference has become positive dislike. - -139. In instruction the presence of interest cannot be simply assumed; -just as little can good intentions on the pupil's part always be -presupposed in training. One thing, however, must be taken for granted: -the pupil must not have come to feel that the discipline is weak and -the instruction poor. Any defect in either direction must therefore be -traced to its source and remedied. When pupils feel free to do as they -please, when they think they have good cause to blame the teacher for -their failure to make progress, his manner will be of no avail; and -futile attempts only make matters worse. - -140. In some cases training becomes blended with government to such -an extent that it can scarcely be distinguished from the latter. -As an example, we may mention the large educational institutions -conducted on a military basis, where the individual pupil is carried -along by the general system, rather than made the object of special -care. In other cases, training and government remain farther apart -than is necessary; an instance of this is when a strict father keeps -himself at a distance, and leaves the business of training, within -the prescribed rigid limits, to the tutor of his children. At all -events, a distinction must be made between the two concepts, training -and government, in order that the teacher may know what he is doing, -and may notice what is perhaps lacking; we are justified in adding, -in order that he may save himself useless effort. For training is not -uniformly effectual, regardless of circumstances; the teacher needs to -be watchful in this matter in order that the opportune moment for doing -what can be done may not escape him. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Aim of Training= - - -141. While the aim of instruction was rendered sufficiently -determinate, as we saw above (17, 64, 65), by the injunction, -be perfect, the aim of training, which supplements educative -instruction, comprehends virtue as a whole. Now virtue is an ideal, -the approximation toward which is denoted by the term _morality_. -Again, since, generally speaking, a child passes on from mere capacity -for culture to culture itself, from the indeterminate to fixedness of -knowledge, the approximation to virtue consists likewise in development -toward stability. Where conduct in moral affairs vacillates, there is -a deficiency; where something morally hateful becomes confirmed, there -is a defect. Excluding both, we define the aim of training properly as -moral strength of character. - - "Training" means such will-training as conduces to the formation - of good character; "government" means such training as conduces - to good order. The first is for a permanent, the second for - an immediate, purpose. In government we can appeal both to a - positive and a negative means. The positive means is interest in - a study and the affairs of the schoolroom; the negative means - is inhibition of disturbing impulses. As Professor James, in his - "Talks on Psychology,"[13] points out, this inhibition may be of - two sorts,--that of forcible suppression, and that of substitution. - A teacher who uses negative means of inhibiting mischief or - inattention, employs command or punishment. This method, though - sometimes seemingly unavoidable, often results in mental strain, - if not permanent alienation between teacher and pupil. The method - of substitution attempts to secure inhibition of the undesirable - state of mind by giving rise to a set of favorable ideas strong - enough to displace it. "If, without saying anything about the street - disturbances," which may be distracting the attention of your pupils, - "you open a counter attraction by starting some very interesting - talk or demonstration yourself, they will altogether forget the - distracting incident, and, without any effort, follow you along." - Training, however, has a more difficult task. It must succeed in - implanting what may be called regulative principles in the mind. - It must furthermore succeed in establishing habits of conduct that - will enable the pupil to become self-governing. That is, we must - establish in him habits of feeling and action that will enable him - to substitute the higher for the lower good, or, at least, instantly - to inhibit the temptation to evil. This is a task not for a day or a - year, but for the whole school period. - -[13] James, "Talks on Psychology," p. 193, Henry Holt & Co., New York, -1899. - -142. In succeeding chapters character and moral conduct will each have -to be differentiated more minutely. For our present purpose we need -only to remind ourselves that the determinateness of the will, which -is called character, depends not only on willing, but also on not -willing. The latter is either a deficient or a denying willing, which -repels or rejects. Stern methods of governing, which bar access to -everything that might lead astray, are likely to produce a deficient -will rather than the permanence of formed strength; with the end of -school days, the dreaded opportunities arrive after all, and the pupil -may quickly undergo a change beyond recognition. The task of training -must therefore be thought of as embracing both affirmative willing and -rejecting. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=Differentiation of Character= - - -143. Our will activities result from ideas. Different masses of ideas -give rise to different will action; hence the difficulty experienced in -harmonizing and unifying the manifold acts of will. - -The various groups of ideas do not simply succeed one another -in consciousness; the relation of one to the other may also be -that of apperception. Apperceiving attention is not confined to -sense-perception (77); it embraces inner perception as well. The -process of apperception, however, consists rarely or never in mere -perceiving. It involves more: one mass of ideas exerts a determining -influence on the other. Now, since each may be the source of will -action, it happens that often one act of will accepts or rejects -another. Again, conscious of himself preeminently as a being that -wills, man gives commands to himself and decides concerning himself; -he seeks to acquire self-control. In such efforts he makes himself -more and more the object of his own observation. That part of his will -activity which his self-observation reveals to be already in existence, -we call the objective part of character. To the new will action, -on the other hand, which first springs into existence in and with -self-examination, we give the name subjective part of character. - -The subjective side of character can attain its full development only -during the years of maturity. Its beginnings, however, reach back into -boyhood, and its normal growth during adolescence is noticeably rapid, -due allowance being made for variations of kind and degree in different -individuals. - - The assumption of the unconditional primacy of ideas can no longer - be seriously entertained. Just as there is an unfolding of ideas in - sensation, perception, apperception, and rational insight, so there - is an unfolding of our volitional life in impulse, conscious will - action, and the control of conduct in accordance with the regulative - principles of moral obligation. Knowledge and will doubtless spring - from a common root, but they are not primarily so related that - volition waits on knowledge. Impulse is antecedent to idea, while in - the last analysis and in the highest realm of mind, the _actual_ is - subordinate to the _ideal_, the _ought_ is more powerful than the - _is_. In other words, there is, as Dr. Harris maintains, a sense in - which the will is self-determining, even though the extent to which - this self-active control obtains is uncertain. As Natorp says,[14] - "It is folly to call upon the weak to be strong, to concentrate - consciousness upon the categorical imperative, so that the inflexible - demands of the ought shall be complied with." Yet even in the weak - there is a bar of consciousness or perhaps conscience before which - judgment must be pronounced as to the worthiness or unworthiness of - a given line of conduct. It is the function of moral education--and - this includes all education--to make the weak strong, to strengthen - the good impulses, to clarify the insight, to accustom the mind to - dwell on the right set of ideas, to cultivate desirable feelings - and interests. In this process of moral development, the world of - ideas has perhaps all the validity claimed for it by Herbart. What - is here called the "subjective" side of character pertains to that - regulation of conduct which arises from its examination before the - bar of consciousness as to its agreement or disagreement with the - regulative principles of moral obligation. It is that advanced - stage of development in character in which the mind is consciously - self-directive. Naturally it is later than the "objective" side, - where action is more spontaneous, more governed by impulses, more - subject to hypnotic suggestion; in short, more subordinated to - "ideo-motor" activity and less governed by reflection. - -[14] Natorp, "Socialpaedagogik," p. 9, tr. Fromman, Stuttgart, 1899. - -144. In view of the very manifold volitional elements which the -objective foundations of character may obviously contain, it will -facilitate a survey if we distinguish (1) that which the pupil does or -does not endure willingly, (2) that which he does or does not long to -have, (3) that which he does or does not like to do. Now one, now the -other class predominates, the strongest controlling and restricting the -rest. But this restriction is not always an easy matter. Accordingly -the objective phase of character attains at first to inner harmony only -with difficulty. - -145. In consequence of frequent repetitions of similar acts of will, -general concepts are gradually formed in the subjective side of -character, concepts comprehending both the similar will actions already -present under similar circumstances, and the requirements man sets up -for himself with a view to determining his willing one way or another. - -These requirements fall largely within the province of prudence; they -pertain to forethought and cautious reserve, or, may be, to action, in -order that an end may be gained by the choice of suitable means. The -boy wants to be wiser than the child; the youth wiser than either. In -this way man seeks to rise above himself. - -146. Moral conduct is not always furthered by man's effort to surpass -himself, so that the teacher's task becomes a twofold one,--a watching -and directing not only of the objective but also of the subjective side -of character. Temperament, native bent, habit, desire, and passion -fall under the former; to the latter belong the frankness or cunning -displayed by the pupil, and his habitual method of practical reasoning. - -147. As a rule, we may consider it auspicious for character building if -the pupil, instead of being swayed by moods and whims, is constant in -his willing. Such uniformity as requires no effort we may designate by -the expression memory of will. - -When a pupil possesses this natural advantage, the objective part of -his character easily arrives at harmony with itself. He sees that among -his many preferences relative to enduring, having, doing, one imposes -restrictions upon the other; that it is often necessary to submit and -endure in order to have and do that which is desired; that pursuits of -which he is fond do not always yield what he longs to have, and so on. -When these truths have become sufficiently clear to him, he soon comes -to a point where he decides which things he cares about a great deal, -and which less. He chooses, and choice largely determines character, -primarily character in its objective aspects. - -In the course of the development of the subjective part of character, -there are formed in succession resolves, maxims, and principles, a -process involving subsumptions, conclusions, and motives. It will cost -many a struggle before these motives can assert themselves. - -The strength of a character depends on the agreement between its two -parts, the objective and the subjective. Where there is want of accord, -the character is weak. But both must be morally good; where that is not -the case, strength ceases to be desirable. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=Differentiation of Morality= - - -148. Pupils at once active and kindly are not rare, and so far as -the ideas of perfection and good-will are concerned, give rise to no -anxiety, at least not at first. With a firm government, moreover, they -are easily induced to make the golden rule their own, and they soon -become disposed to yield in contention, or rather, become more careful -about picking a quarrel. Accordingly, with reference also to equity and -justice, they cause little anxiety. In time they gain mental balance, -the basis of genuine self-control, and are now on the road to inner -freedom. In short, they are in possession of that which, in the light -of fundamental ethical ideas, constitutes morality. - -But these constituents of moral conduct are not found together in -every one, nor do they always remain together. Side by side with the -praiseworthy traits mentioned, others of an opposite nature frequently -manifest themselves; it becomes evident that the latter are not -excluded, and thus the former do not determine the character. - -149. In order to exclude the morally evil, the praiseworthy traits -of the objective side of character need to be reinforced by the good -resolutions of the subjective part. - -These resolutions, to be worth anything morally, must rest on that -theoretical judgment whereby the pupil through examples comes to -distinguish between better and worse in willing. As long as his judging -lacks clearness, energy, and completeness, his resolutions are without -a foundation in his mind and heart. They are hardly more than memorized -words. - -When, on the other hand, the theoretical judgment has become interwoven -with the totality of interest growing out of experience, social -intercourse, and instruction, it creates a warm affection for the good -wherever found, an affection which influences not only all of the -pupil's efforts of will, but also the manner in which he assimilates -what instruction and life henceforth offer. - -150. Finally, in order to fortify moral decisions, we must avail -ourselves of the assistance derived from the logical cultivation of -maxims, from the systematic unification of the same, and from their -constant application in life. - -Here the organic connection between character growth and the formation -of habits of reflection becomes apparent; training is, therefore, -obviously unable to accomplish its work except in conjunction with -instruction. - - As soon as a pupil gets a clear notion that a presented ideal of - conduct promotes the true realization of his own being, he is - in a position to acquire an interest in reaching that ideal. An - end, hitherto remote, comes nearer, so that it begins to exercise - influence upon the conduct that leads to it. Convention, appeal, - or even compulsion from without, are now reinforced by the good - resolutions arising from the pupil's own subjective states. Here we - see the interaction of intellectual and emotional capacities. The - intellect perceives relations, thus bringing into consciousness a new - ideal; this distant end is mediated inasmuch as desire or feeling - impels the pupil to enter upon a course of conduct whose stages lead - to the ideal goal.[15] - -[15] See Dewey, "Interest as Related to Will," reprint by the National -Herbart Society for 1899, pp. 15-16. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -=Helps in Training= - - -151. The function of training does not consist, it is true, in always -restraining and meddling; still less in ingrafting the practices of -others to take the place of the pupil's self-activity. Nevertheless, -refusal and permission are so much a part of training that the pupil -becomes far more dependent through training than mere government could -make him. In government a few rules may be enforced very strictly, -while in other respects the boy is left to himself; in training a -similar relaxation of vigilance is scarcely ever permissible. Only the -strongest grounds for confidence in a pupil would justify such a course. - -The watchful teacher, even without aiming to do so, always shows some -degree of approbation or dissatisfaction. In many cases this is all -that is necessary; at times, with sensitive pupils, even this is too -much. Unaccustomed censure hurts them more than was intended, while -no evidence, however slight, of approval, escapes their notice. The -teacher should be considerate in his treatment of such sensibility. - -152. With regard to restraint of freedom, keenness of sensibility -is more common. In this connection another point also calls for -consideration. Freedom is of the utmost direct importance to formation -of character, provided it issues in well-weighed and successful -action. For from success springs the confidence of will whereby desire -ripens into decision. Where rational action may be looked for, freedom -of action must be granted; where the opposite is true, the early -appearance of a vivid consciousness of self-activity is fraught with -danger. - -Frequent censure and curtailment of freedom generally blunt -sensibility, rather more, however, sensibility to words than to -restrictions. Accordingly, where repetition of censure is necessary, -the language may and should vary. On the other hand, the teacher's -practice with respect to permission and prohibition must, where -possible, be felt to be permanent, even if it were only to confine -the granting of the same permission to stated times, in accordance -with an adopted habit. Lack of uniformity, except for obvious reasons, -impresses pupils as arbitrariness and caprice; fixed limits are endured -more easily. - -153. The sensibilities are irritated least by mere directions, by daily -reminding, by calls at the appointed hour, without words of reproach. -There are numerous details of daily life which must be placed under -the rule of order, but it would be unwise to make more of them than -they deserve. Sharp reprimands ought not to be wasted on petty acts of -negligence; they are needed for important things. Rules must be obeyed; -but a light punishment, one that does not wound the feelings, is more -suitable here than harsh words could be. - -154. Closely related to the foregoing is the cultivation of habits -that imply endurance, or the bearing of deprivation without murmur, -or even an inuring to positive hardships. In efforts tending in this -direction it is not sufficient merely to refrain from hurting the -pupil's feelings; youthful good humor and love of fun must be allowed -free expression besides. - -155. Mischievous consequences follow if children become accustomed -to frequent, unnecessary gratification of desires, or to a round of -artificial pleasures which include neither work nor exercise. To -mention only one such consequence, the attendant blunting of the -sensibilities renders ineffectual numerous minor aids of training -which may be employed to good advantage with unspoiled children. It -takes little to give children a great variety of pleasures when great -moderation is a matter of daily practice, and for this very reason -we need to husband, as it were, our resources for giving enjoyment, -in order that much may be accomplished with little. Harmless games, -particularly, should not be spoiled for children by making them feel -that they must cultivate the staid behavior of adults. Their own -ambition fills them only too early with the desire to appear no longer -as children. - -156. The good teacher's watchfulness will extend even to petty details, -which may indeed prove momentous enough in his little world. These are -not so important, however, as the mutual relations of the cooperating -factors:-- - -(1) _Relation between Action and Rest._ The powers of the child must -be given something to do, but exercise is to further their growth and -hence must not be carried to the point of exhaustion. Now and then -a boy must convince himself by experience that great things may be -achieved by strenuous effort, but severe tests of this kind must never -be permitted to become the rule. - -(2) _Relation between that which puts down and that which lifts up._ -The means of training that humble and those that encourage should -balance as nearly as possible. That which rises of its own accord -requires no raising up; but when along the whole course of training -criticism perceptibly exceeds encouragement, it loses its effectiveness -and often embitters pupils more than it benefits them. - -(3) _Relation between Restraint and Freedom._ The child's surroundings -and companionship should afford protection against temptation, but his -environment must be sufficiently ample and rich to prevent much longing -for that which is outside. - -157. The outcome is uncertain in the case of those aids to training -whose effect on the sensibilities of the pupils cannot be foreseen. -Some of them are, nevertheless, well worth trying, final judgment being -suspended until after the result has been observed. Under this head -belong especially the strictly pedagogical punishments and rewards -which are patterned after the natural consequences of doing or not -doing. The boy who comes late loses the anticipated enjoyment; if -he destroys his things, he must do without them; over-indulgence is -followed by bitter medicine; tattling by removal from the circle in -which matters requiring discretion are discussed, etc. Such punishments -do not subserve moral improvement, but they warn and teach a lesson. To -what extent they will do so we are often unable to tell beforehand; a -profitable reminiscence may be retained at all events. - - The discipline of consequences has been much emphasized by Herbert - Spencer in his "Education." Its limited usefulness in moral training - is pointed out in the foregoing section. Acting like a mechanical - law, it tends to have the same effect upon the feelings that a - physical law has. How could one's moral sensibilities be impressed by - the law of gravitation? Nature makes us prudent, but scarcely good. - -158. Sometimes the question is how to set pupils on the right track -again. They have grown listless, for instance, or pursue their -tasks with reluctance. Here we may profitably resort to a sudden -interruption by a change of employment. It happens occasionally -that pupils, physically strong, are guilty of very bad behavior that -persists in spite of admonitions and punishments, or reappears in -another form, but which is, after all, at bottom, only the result of -a state of ill humor that can easily be corrected. An unexpected, -trifling present, an unusual act of attention, will very likely break -down the pupil's reserve, and when the cause of the trouble has once -been ascertained, it will be possible to discover a remedy. - -159. In the case of those that are weak physically, furtherance of -health combined with persevering patience is the first and chief duty. -But kindness should not degenerate into weak indulgence; on the other -hand, close supervision must take the place of every form of harsh -treatment. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -=General Method of Training= - - -160. The distinctions relative to character and morality (143-150) -furnish the thread of reflection on this subject. Concisely stated, the -function of training is to support, to determine, and to regulate; to -keep the pupil, on the whole, in a tranquil and serene frame of mind; -to arouse him occasionally by approval and reproof; to remind at the -proper moment, and to correct faults. A more definite significance -will be imparted to this brief summary by a comparative study and -application of the ideas analyzed in the preceding chapters. - - While we may accept the statement that the function of training is to - support, to determine, and to regulate, we must not forget to ask: - To what end shall it do these things? The answer is, that though - the means of moral training are always psychological, the ends are - always social. Support must hold the pupil up to social standards, - the directive power of the teacher must be exercised for social ends, - while all regulation of the pupil's activities must point to the same - result. There is scarcely a virtue to be named that does not find its - ultimate meaning in its application to conduct as affecting others. - This is true even in primitive society. In modern urban society it - is not only true, but vastly important. The discussion in Chapter VI - is psychological throughout. It must be the purpose of the annotation - to point out the social implications. - -161. First, what is meant by the supporting activity of training -becomes clearer if we recall the remarks made concerning memory of the -will (147) as opposed to the thoughtlessness usually ascribed to youth. -The thoughtless boy does not remember past acts of will. He stands in -need of being supported by training. This, further analysis shows, is -done in two ways: by holding him back from the wrong course, and by -holding him up to the right course. - -Training presupposes an efficient government and the obedience -consequent to it. By implication, the pupil would not dare to disobey -a command if given. But commands ought to be employed sparingly, and -only when inevitable. Imposed too frequently, they would preclude -self-development; if given to adolescents for any but obvious and -urgent reasons, obedience would not long continue. In short, government -acts at intervals. But the pupil cannot be permitted to live in a state -of lawless liberty in the meantime. He must remain sensible, be it ever -so little, of certain limits which he is not allowed to overstep. This -result is the aim of the supporting function of training. - -But the pupil, even though he be generally obedient, does not obey -every one, nor under all circumstances, nor always fully, promptly, -and without opposition; and when he once fails to comply with gentle -words, he will be still less ready to yield to a severe manner toward -himself. Of course, the teacher must know on what support he may -depend; the father needs to have made up his mind how far he would be -willing to go with coercive measures if necessary; the private tutor, -to what extent he may count on the backing of parents; the teacher in a -public institution, how far his course of action would be upheld by his -superiors. But all this involves an appeal from training to government, -a step to be avoided as much as possible. Most of the unpleasant cases -of intractability, where recourse to government becomes unavoidable, -are the gradual result of continued weak indulgence. Of such cases no -account is taken here, and justly so, since, apart from all else, even -defiant obstinacy, provided restraint has not been cast off utterly, -soon breaks down and gives way to remorse when it is met by serious and -deliberate firmness. - - The most obvious ways that the school has of securing a good "memory - of will" are those by which it enforces the well-known school - virtues,--regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry. It is to - the acquisition of these habits that the government, or discipline, - of the school is chiefly directed. Dr. Wm. T. Harris has pointed out - in detail the significance of this acquisition in the development - of character.[16] It is interesting to note how the teacher's - personal authority is reinforced by social pressure both within and - without the school. The Superintendent of a city of thirteen thousand - inhabitants reports that but 1462 cases of tardiness occurred during - a whole school year. The pupils of each room are given a brief - holiday, from time to time, provided nobody in that room is tardy - during the stated period. This brings an immense social pressure - within the school to bear in securing prompt attendance. Happening to - visit the Superintendent's office in a city of some sixty thousand - people, the writer observed the following scene: A young girl of - perhaps fourteen years of age, accompanied by her father, who was - a foreigner, unable to speak English fluently, entered the office. - The girl began at once to make excuses for her brother who was a - somewhat confirmed truant, and to beg that he might be excused and - reinstated. To objections stated by the Superintendent, the father - with much emotion replied, "Oh, Mr. Superintendent, won't you give my - boy another trial?" The boy had been 'tried again' so many times that - father and daughter were referred to the judge, an officer having - jurisdiction over such cases. The penalty for persistent truancy was - attendance at a state reformatory school. This is a case in which the - authority of the teacher in securing regularity of attendance was - reinforced by the community outside the school. The constant pressure - of school and community tend to establish habits of will memory that - serve as an excellent foundation for later moral training. - -[16] Third Year Book of the National Herbart Society. - -162. Before training can have within itself the power to make up -deficiencies in obedience, there must be awakened in the pupil a vivid -feeling that the approval of his teacher is a valuable possession, -which he would be loath to lose. This the teacher will bring about -in proportion to the effective and welcome share he has in the life -of his pupil. He must give before he can receive. Furthermore, if in -his opinion the pupil needs to be turned in a different direction, he -should not underestimate the difficulty of the task before him; he must -proceed slowly. - -The initial steps in character training are admirably described by -Niemeyer in the following words: "The teacher's first duty is to study -the positively good elements in the native character of the being to -be educated. To preserve these, to strengthen them, to transform them -into virtue, and to fortify them against every danger, should be his -incessant endeavor. They should constitute the keynote, as it were, -of his whole method of education. He should look for the good even in -the spoilt and vicious pupil, and should try to bring it to light, -no matter how many weeds may have sprung up alongside of it. For all -subsequent moral education must start from this point." - -Although this passage belongs in strictness to the discussion on moral -education, it is plainly entitled to a place here also. An appeal -to the pupil's better nature promotes ready compliance on his part, -especially when it is accompanied by those little courtesies that go -with cultivated social intercourse. It is most effective with those who -possess at the same time the strongest memory of will, which it will -not be difficult for the supporting activity of training to strengthen -still further. - -163. On the other hand, the task of training grows arduous in -proportion as the pupil fails to bear in mind his acts of will. But -even here there is a difference between capricious unruliness and -downright flightiness and levity. - -Cases may arise where the impetuosity of the pupil challenges the -teacher to a kind of combat. Rather than accept such a challenge, he -will usually find it sufficient at first to reprove calmly, to look on -quietly, to wait until fatigue sets in. The embarrassing situations -into which such a pupil gets himself will furnish occasions for making -him feel ashamed, and now it remains to be seen whether or not he can -be made to adopt a more equable behavior. Here and there training may -in this way even make good the lack of government; scarcely, however, -for large numbers, after unruliness has once begotten vicious habits. - - Combats of any kind between teacher and pupil are to be deplored. - A good teacher is always strong enough in his mental superiority, - his authority, and his influence as an executive to avoid it. Such - a contest shows that the pupil has become self-conscious in a bad - sense. He sets his personality over against that of the teacher. - If the teacher is so weak as to meet him on his own ground, the - pupil has a good chance for a bad victory--bad for himself, the - teacher, and the school. It should be a constant aim of the teacher - to supplant introspection, whether pertaining to feelings or to - wilfulness, with motor activity. The pupil should always be doing - something that will promote not only his own best good, but that - of the school also. Authority should rarely so assert itself as to - incite or to permit a personal contest with the pupil. It should be a - strong but almost unseen presupposition of all school affairs. Here - as elsewhere idleness is the mother of mischief. Lively action is - sure to banish morbid introspection. - -164. Thoughtlessness in the narrower sense, which manifests itself in -forgetfulness, in negligence, in want of steadiness, and in so-called -youthful escapades, is a defect in native capacity, and does not -admit of a radical cure, imperceptible as it may become with age, by -reason of repeated warnings and diminishing susceptibility to external -impressions. All the more imperative is it in such cases to support -by training, in order that the evil consequences of this character -weakness may be prevented, or at least reduced to a minimum. For as -soon as a thoughtlessly impulsive boy comes to take pleasure in his -conduct, he will set himself against order and industry, and will -strive to discover the means which promise to secure for him a life -without restrictions. This danger must be forestalled by training. -At the beginning, and before an evil will has had time to develop, -training must take the place of will. It must bring home to the pupil -that of which he had lost sight. To his fluctuating and roving -impulses it must lend its own external firmness and uniformity, which -cannot be created at once, if at all, within the pupil. - -Here is the proper place for the injunction, not to argue with -children. "I cannot be too emphatic and outspoken in my warning against -too much arguing," says Caroline Rudolphi; and Schwarz, who quotes this -passage, adds, "Once is too often." Niemeyer, after speaking of the -excesses of abnormal liveliness and characterizing thoughtlessness, -which, he says, "causes inattention, a disregard for consequences, -and hasty actions," continues thus: "All these are not faults of the -heart; still they are faults that need to be amended, and about the -only sure educational method for amending them is to cultivate right -habits. Positive punishments wisely chosen may indeed be employed as -auxiliary means, but only when there are evidences of a lack of good -intention, or when these faults have become ominously prominent." He -further advises teachers to insist on this, that pupils rectify on the -spot what can be rectified, since vague recollections prove barren of -good results. - -This does not, of course, dispose of the whole matter, but we are still -discussing training as a supporting agency, and from this point of view -it is true that argument should not be substituted for the cultivation -of habits. - -165. To restrain the lively but thoughtless boy is more difficult than -to keep him properly active, for the latter is comparatively easy, in -some cases at least, if instruction excites his interest. The reverse -holds true for the sluggish boy because an attack has to be made on -his indolence. Here the stimulation to physical exertion through -association with wide-awake playmates is the first thing to be secured; -and where hard lessons cannot as yet be managed successfully, lighter -occupations will have to suffice. Where sluggishness is traceable to -bodily feebleness, improvement may be hoped for from sanitary measures -and increasing years. - -The following rule is to be observed everywhere: No exercise must -exceed the pupil's strength, but that which has once been begun must be -completed. At the least, pupils must not be allowed to drop their work -as they choose; they must look upon it as a whole, however small. - -166. That the supporting procedure of training rests on the teacher's -own bearing--on the uniformity of his demeanor--need hardly be said; -but this evenness must also stand out clearly before the eyes of the -pupils. The teacher ought to guard particularly against causing the -complaint that no one knows how to please him, that nothing one may -do is done to his satisfaction. When matters have come to this pass, -the first thing pupils do is to watch his moods as they might the -weather, and to interchange observations. His ugly mood is dreaded; -his pleasant mood is taken advantage of for importunate requests. -The pupils try to move the firm centre which is to support them, and -the faintest signs of success awaken and foster extravagant hopes. -Gradually the after-effects of earlier government die out, and a -renewal of severe measures draws with it a train of new evils. - - Goldsmith in his "Deserted Village" has well portrayed the "moody" - teacher:-- - - "A man severe he was, and stern to view; - I knew him well, and every truant knew: - Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace - The day's disasters in his morning face; - Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee, - At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; - Full well the busy whisper, circling round, - Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned." - -167. Second. Training is to exert a determining influence; it is -to induce the pupil _to choose_ (147). Under this head falls the -discrimination spoken of above between varieties of volitional -impulse--the will to bear, to have, and to do; hence also experiential -knowledge of the natural consequences of doing or of failure to -do (157), for unless these are taken into consideration, the manifold -of will cannot be reduced to harmony. Now the first point to be noticed -in connection with this aspect of training is that the teacher does not -choose for the pupil. The pupil himself must choose, for it is his own -character that is to be determined. He must himself experience a part, -although only the smallest part, of that which is desirable or harmful. -That the flame burns that a pin pricks, that a fall or knock hurts, -this lesson even the little child must learn; and similar experiences -must be gained later, provided they do not carry the pupil to the verge -of serious danger. Everything essential has been accomplished if, -in consequence of actual experiences confirming the teacher's words -of warning, the pupil believes other warnings without waiting for -confirmation. - - Not second in importance to the act of choosing is the content of the - choice. If conduct must have a social outcome, all the activities - of the school will focus at this point. In order to have rational - choice there must be first of all social intelligence. This it is - the function of instruction to develop. According to a well-known - doctrine of Herbart, it is the chief duty of instruction to make a - progressive revelation to the pupil of the ethical world, in order - that his puny will may gradually be reinforced by race experience. - The instruments for this revelation are the studies on the one hand, - and the conduct of the school according to social principles on the - other. In the second place, that the ethical choice may truly express - the pupil's inward state, rather than his outward constraint, it must - grow out of his insight as suffused by his social responsiveness to - ethical ideas. In other words, his disposition should confirm his - intellectual perception of the right line of conduct. This raises the - whole matter of interest as related to will.[17] Here again natural, - spontaneous, almost unconscious attitude is vastly superior to morbid - introspection, no matter how 'good' the pupil's disposition may prove - to be. A boy should not have to 'reflect' as to whether he will rob - a bird's nest or not. - -[17] See Dr. John Dewey, "Interest as Related to Will," National -Herbart Society, reprint for 1899. - -168. Pleasure and pain arise so largely out of social relations that -the pupil must grow up amidst a social environment in order to become -somewhat acquainted with his natural place among men. This requirement -gives rise accordingly to solicitous precautions against a bad example -and rudeness. On the other hand, a boy's companions should not be -chosen with such anxious care as if the intention were to spare him -the feeling of pressure which in all human society is generated by the -efforts and counter-efforts of men. Too great complaisance on the part -of playmates causes delusions as to the actual conditions of life. - -Again, society and seclusion must alternate. The social current is not -to carry everything else along with it, and to become more powerful -than education. Even the boy, and much more the youth, must learn to be -alone, and to fill up his time profitably. - - Unbroken association of the child with his mates tends to bring - him too exclusively under the influence of imitation and of acting - impulsively upon those forms of unreasoning suggestion which sway - the crowd, the gang, and the mob. To quote Professor Baldwin:[18] - "The characteristics of the social suggestions upon which the crowd - act show them to be strictly suggestions. They are not truths, nor - arguments, nor insights, nor inventions.... The suggestible mind - has very well known marks. Balzac hit off one of them in 'Eugenie - Grandet' in the question, 'Can it be that collectively man has no - memory?' We might go through the list of mental functions asking the - same question of them one by one. Has man collectively no thought, no - sense of values, no deliberation, no self-control, no responsibility, - no conscience, no will, no motive, no purpose? And the answer to - each question would be the same, No, he has none. The suggestible - consciousness is the consciousness that has no past, no future, no - height, no depth, no development, no reference to anything; it is - only in and out. It takes in and it acts out--that is all there is - to it." It is here that we find the source of the youthful escapade - so common to street, school, and college, as well as of the adult - deeds of diabolism that have so often shocked the moral sense of the - American people. The child needs frequent opportunities to be alone, - when he can "come to himself" as a responsible person. Even where the - association with his mates is perfectly innocent, there is a growing - responsiveness to mere suggestion. This tendency is corrected by - attention to individual tasks and responsibilities. - -[18] "Social and Ethical Interpretations," pp. 236-237. - -169. By living alternately with his equals in age and with adults, the -pupil grows familiar with diverse standards of honor. To unite these, -and to subordinate one to the other in a proper manner, will prove -an easy or a difficult part of training, according to the smaller or -greater gap between the value set on brute force on the one hand, -and the demand for good-breeding, as well as regard for talent and -knowledge, on the other. The main thing is not to foster ambition -artificially, though care must be taken at the same time to refrain -from crushing out a natural and true self-esteem. Usually, however, -those interested in the progress of a pupil stand in need themselves of -guarding against the self-deception due to extravagant hopes. By giving -themselves up to these, they involuntarily turn flatterers, and push -the boy, and the young man still more, beyond the position he is able -to maintain. Bitter experiences follow. - - The tendency to an abnormal overestimation of the value of physical - excellence is seen in the attitude of the modern college toward - athletics. Doubtless the public as a whole still underestimates - the importance of fine physical development. Our modern life with - its nerve-racking occupation will shatter the efficiency of large - portions of the race, unless the physical organism is so developed - as to withstand the strain. This, if true of men, is still more - true of women, who are now undertaking many new lines of exhausting - labor, not the easiest of which is teaching. But the college student - is prone to adore muscle. The successful athlete is, for a brief - period, praised, petted, and advertised far more than is the ablest - student or professor in the institution. Scarcely do the noblest - achievements of science or philanthropy receive so much notice as - a successful full-back on a foot-ball team. The athlete goes up - indeed like a rocket, startling the ear and dazzling the eye for - a moment--then oblivion, or deserved obscurity. The teacher must - endeavor to displace this false estimate of values by one more true - if less exciting. - -170. The regard for the value of things in their relation to the -ordinary necessities of life develops somewhat more slowly than the -natural sense of honor. This is true especially of money, which at -first boys rarely know how to use. Instead of saying, either this -or that, which a fixed sum will buy, the boy falls a victim to the -deception that lurks in saying, this _and_ that. In this respect also -the pupil needs to gain experience on a small scale; he must, moreover, -come to know the value of objects last, not merely in terms of money, -but also in terms of the inconvenience of doing without them. Warnings -against petty closeness are seldom necessary; not infrequently, -however, a boy follows common talk, and it may happen that he practises -parsimony by imitation, and squanders in obedience to his own impulses. -Where faults of this sort are not conquered by the pupil's own sense of -honor, they fall within the province of moral education. - - A modern device for teaching children the value of money, and - especially the usefulness of saving it, is the institution of - school savings banks. Here the pupil develops his instincts for - accumulation. At the same time he learns to inhibit his often - inordinate fondness for spending. If indulgence to self, accompanied - by penuriousness toward others, is permitted to grow into a habit in - childhood and youth, it becomes a source of much unhappiness in later - family life. Wife and children are often victims of this kind of - selfishness. Now that women are in the main the teachers of children, - they should have the interest of their sex sufficiently at heart - to inculcate suitable ideals and habits respecting the gathering - and spending of money. No form of selfishness is so obnoxious as - self-indulgence at the expense of those who have a natural right - to an equitable share of what is produced. The 'meanness' of such - conduct if constantly unveiled will effect its own cure. - -171. When experience has taught the pupil to what extent he must endure -or need not endure the pressure of human society, and what honors, -objects, enjoyments, he can have or must do without, the question -arises: How does he connect all this with the pursuits which attract -or repel him? The thoughtful pupil soon realizes, without being told, -that one thing often makes another possible, that one thing involves or -conditions another. But upon the thoughtless boy this truth does not -impress itself with sufficient force; consequently, the teacher has to -help him to deepen that impression, because a man without a settled -mind regarding these matters remains devoid of character. - -Yet a lack of fixedness is often desirable rather than otherwise--a -statement applying to those pupils whose intellectual interests -it is the business of instruction to awaken, or whose moral and -religious culture are as yet in a backward state. The objective part -of character (142) should not become fixed too soon; and very often a -large part of the value of training consists in retarding this process. -Such an end is subserved by the restraint under which the pupil is -kept by the subordinate position assigned to him in conformity with -his age, and particularly by the refusal of freedom to act without -permission, and according to his own inclination (152). The theoretical -judgment of will relations (149) is frequently late in maturing, -or remains weak in comparison with the impression produced by the -experiences mentioned. In that case moral ardor is also wanting, and if -the pupil were given liberty to do as he chose, his character would be -formed, to be sure, but in the wrong way. Rather would it be better to -encourage juvenile amusements, and even boyish games, beyond the usual -age limit. - -172. Third. Regulative training begins its work with the first -appearance of the subjective part of character (143). For an earlier -period the rule not to argue with children holds good (164); that is, -it holds good as long as we can get along with it. That stage, however, -is passed when the pupil begins to reason for himself; in other words, -when his thinking has acquired such consecutiveness that his thoughts -no longer come and go as momentary fancies, but attain to permanency -and coherence. Reasoning processes of this sort ought not to be left -to themselves, nor can they be repressed by dictatorial decrees. The -educator must now enter into his pupil's trains of reflection, must -argue with him and prevent further development in the wrong direction. - -The tendency to set up rules reveals itself early; for example, in the -games of children. Commands as to what to do are given every moment, -only these imperatives are imperfectly obeyed and often changed. -Neither is there lack of original, childish resolutions; but they -can mean little so long as they do not remain the same. It is very -different when they acquire stability, when means and ends combine into -plans, when execution is attempted under difficulties, and finally when -these resolves are thought in the forms of general concepts, thereby -laying claim to validity in possible future instances, and becoming -thus transformed into maxims. - -173. The wise forethought essential to regulative training requires in -the first place that the teacher shall rather tolerate an inconvenient -discussion than check a frank expression of opinion, provided the -objections of the pupil are indubitably sincere, and his vanity, we -will say, is not flattered too much by the unexpected consideration -accorded to his remarks. The same foresight is to be exercised in -cases where it proves impossible to convince the pupil at once. Here -the final judgment, instead of being insisted upon, should rather -be postponed; it will always be easy to point out to the pupil his -lack of adequate knowledge and to refer him to future studies. The -positiveness that usually characterizes the assertions of boys and -young men, generally has its roots in their great ignorance. They have -not the least inkling of how many opinions have been held and disputed. -Instruction will gradually cure them of their excessive self-confidence. - - Only in a pure despotism would the enforcement of unquestioning - obedience to authority be admissible. No country aspiring to - political liberty could tolerate such a system. Even if all political - considerations were dismissed, the development of subjective - character alone would demand a condemnation of such a method. But in - a country like ours, where men are both personally and politically - self-governing, education to leadership is not second to education - to obedience. There comes a time, therefore, when argument is in - place, provided its purpose is to clarify the pupil's insight into - prudence or duty. It will not be too much to insist upon obedience - without argument with all pupils so far as the ordinary school - virtues--regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry--are - concerned. Old and young can see their necessity. When it comes to - the more intricate phases of conduct, the grounds for authority, if - it is still exercised, may be revealed through dialogue. It is the - constant effort of training to establish regulative principles in the - minds of the older pupils, so that within the range of their capacity - they may become self-governing. In other words, the moral plateaus of - Kant are to be attained, not at a bound, but by a gradual progress - in moral autonomy. Herein we see the superiority of Herbart's - conception of moral training. What Kant gave up as an unsolvable - problem, can be seen to be only a natural process. Says Kant, "How a - law can of itself directly determine the will is for human reason an - insoluble problem, for it is identical with the problem how a free - will is possible."[19] The difficulty with Kant's theory was that - he admitted no psychological means for attaining the free directive - power of the mind. He could only say to the child: "You are free; be - free. You are morally autonomous; exercise your power; be a free, - self-governing citizen." Kant regarded natural impulses, emotions, - desires, pleasures, interests, as impure, hence to be rejected. They - are indeed to be rejected as the final ends of character, but what - Kant did not recognize is that they are the psychological means - for attaining character. Primarily these feelings, far from being - radically bad, as he thought, are radically good, since they help to - furnish the necessary conditions of survival, both for the individual - and for the race. Hunger, fear, courage, combativeness, prudence, - sexual instinct, inquisitiveness, love of adornment, frugality, - and a hundred other elemental passions have preserved the race - from destruction in the past. A new set of social and intellectual - impulses will in the future provide the instruments of survival, - now that the field of evolution is transported from the jungle to - the city. It is through intellectual insights that new ideals are - formulated; it is through these elemental feelings that the active - powers of the mind are stirred up to motor efficiency for their - realization. From being biological means for physical survival, - the feelings of man have now become psychological means for civic - survival. Psychologically, therefore, men are not born free; they - become free. To become free they must have opportunity to exercise - freedom; at first within definite but widening limits while they are - under the tuition of the school; later within the limits set by civil - society; at last absolutely, when they have recognized that what is - rational law in society is the law of their own being. - -[19] "Selections," p. 284. - -174. But the matter of greatest importance from the point of view of -training is consistency or inconsistency of action. One who lightly -sets up maxims must be made to feel the difficulty of living up to -them. In this way a mirror is held up to the pupils, partly in order to -put to rout untenable maxims, and partly to reinforce valid principles. - -Among the untenable maxims we include also those which, although in -accord with prudence, would offend against morality. If the pupil does -not see already that they cannot be maintained, the application, by -exhibiting their objectionable consequences, must bring to light their -true character. - -175. Regulative training often calls for rousing words from the -teacher. He has to remind the pupil of happenings in the past and -predict future consequences in case his faults should continue; he has -to induce him to look within himself for the purpose of tracing the -causal connection of his actions to its source. If, however, this was -done earlier, with a view to moral education, no long speeches are now -needed. Moreover, the teacher's remarks become calmer and briefer the -more effective they have been, the more he is justified in expecting -independent judgment on the part of the pupil, and finally the more -fully the latter has entered upon that period during which he looks -about him to observe the words and actions of strangers. For, at the -time when he has begun to compare the new with the old, his receptivity -for the old is very weak, and soon vanishes completely; unless, -indeed, the old had been deeply impressed beforehand. - - The purpose of the "rousing word" is to stimulate the mind to - exercise its dynamic force to moral ends. The pupil must not be - permitted to assume the attitude of negation, or to be a mere passive - observer, or an innocent, devoid alike of power and significance, - but he must be roused into a responsible character, an efficient - participant in life's activities. Successful appeal may be made to - insights already acquired, but theoretically held; to dispositions - implanted, but not yet actively exercised; to the application of - old habits to new uses. Even where appeal must be made against - objectionable conduct, it is better to apply the "inhibition of - substitution" to that of "negation."[20] While protesting against the - evil, point the way to the right road. - -[20] James, "Talks on Psychology," p. 192. - -176. Fourth. The pupil is to be kept in a quiet frame of mind; his -intellect in a state suitable for clear apprehension. To outbursts of -passion this applies absolutely; not so generally to emotions. Above -all, tranquillity is the condition for the formation of theoretical -judgments and hence also, although not exclusively so, for laying the -foundation of morality. - -Every desire may develop into passion, if the soul is so often and so -long in a desiring state that thoughts become focussed in the object -longed for, whereby plans shape themselves, hopes arise, and ill-will -toward others strikes root. Accordingly, watchful attention must be -given to all persistent and recurrent desires. - -177. The most usual desires are those which arise from the physical -need of food and of bodily activity. Now the first step to take is, -while guarding against excess, to satisfy these natural impulses in -order to subdue the unruliness springing from unsatisfied cravings. -We ought not to permit hunger to tempt a boy to steal, nor encourage -truancy by making him sit still too long. This warning is not -superfluous. Such things happen even in families where less irrational -practices might be expected. Over-indulgence, to be sure, is of far -more frequent occurrence. - -When the natural wants have lost their sting, a positive and -irrevocable refusal must be opposed to further desires. With it should -be combined some occupation capable of diverting the attention. - -If the object which continues to excite desire can be removed, all the -better. In one's own home this is more often practicable, and more -necessary as well, than in that of strangers. If the object cannot -be removed, gratification may be put off until some future time. The -foregoing statement may be illustrated by reference to the eating of -fruit from the tree. An unconditional prohibition carries with it a -dangerous temptation to disobedience, while unconditional permission -would be equally inadmissible on account of the plucking of green -fruit, let alone the possible injury to the orchards of others. - -Analogy will suggest many similar applications of the rule given. - -178. Again, children must be watched at their games. The more free -play of the imagination we discover, and the more change there is, -the less cause for concern. But when the same game is frequently -repeated according to the same fixed rules, when a species of study is -devoted to it in order to attain special proficiency, passions may be -generated, such, for instance, as an excessive fondness for playing at -cards, even where no stakes are involved. Gambling must be forbidden -entirely, and in case compliance with this prohibition is doubtful, -obedience must be secured by watchful supervision. - - To what end shall a teacher watch the games of children? To prevent - the bullying of the weak by the strong, to see that unfairness - does not creep in, to ward off vulgarity and profanity--these and - similar purposes will be in the mind of the teacher. One of the chief - functions of play, however, is to cultivate social efficiency. This - has two aspects, willingness to cooperate with a group and ability - to lead a group. It is necessary that there should be alternation - of leadership and cooperation. If one child is allowed to lead all - the time, he becomes overbearing; if another is always compelled to - follow, he becomes subservient. Each has a one-sided development. - Without discouraging unduly natural capacity for leadership, it - is well for the teacher quietly to see to it that each child has - his chance, both to lead and to follow. Just as the kindergarten - utilizes play to simulate the occupations of men, arousing sympathy - with them and respect for them, so the school may by proper - modification make the numerous group games, in which children - delight, a potent means for securing cooperative habits and a general - aptitude for social activities. Not a little attention is now paid - to the various forms of children's play. This is especially true of - such publications as the _Pedagogical Seminary_, published at Clark - University, Worcester, Massachusetts. - -179. An excellent means to avert the dangers connected with passionate -tendencies is to engage in the acquisition of one of the fine arts, say -music or drawing, even though there should be no more than a modicum of -talent. The student must be given to understand, however, that he is -not to take up the study of several musical instruments at once, nor -give himself up to distracting attempts in sundry branches of pictorial -representation. On the contrary, he is to strive consistently for -proficiency in one definite direction. - -In the total absence of aptitude we may avail ourselves of preferences -of one kind or other, such as fondness for collecting plants or shells, -for work in papier-mache, for joinery, for gardening even, etc. - -Poetical talent, highly desirable in itself, nevertheless demands a -solid counterweight in the shape of serious scholarly effort; for the -young poet sets up claims that are likely to prove dangerous if he -becomes absorbed in them. - - The importance of this suggestion can hardly be overestimated. It - is a case of the permanent inhibition of a host of possible evil - tendencies by substitution. The youth who can turn with pleasure - to his violin at every spare moment, never seriously misses the - companionship of his mates. He has, moreover, a never failing source - of enjoyment when there is nothing to interfere with his happiness, - and an equally inexhaustible source of consolation when the waves of - life are rough. - -180. Projects springing from passionate impulses, and betraying -their existence by their interference with order, diligence, and -the distribution of time, must be resolutely thwarted. This step is -rendered all the more urgent when several share in the same plan, above -all when ostentation, party spirit, and rivalry enter as impelling -factors. Such things must not be allowed to gain ground; they very -quickly vitiate the soil which education has been at such pains to -prepare for tillage. - -181. The passions being kept at a distance, the successful grounding -of the pupil in morality depends in general on the manner in which -instruction cooperates with his occupations. The branch of instruction -primarily most important in this respect is religious instruction. The -most immediate source, however, of the development of disposition is -found in the pupil's social environment, and it becomes the business -of training to cultivate a right spirit or disposition. Let us, -therefore, take up the practical ideas one by one. - - England and Germany are a unit in insisting upon the necessity of - religious instruction in the schools. Half the elementary schools - of the former country are in charge of the Church of England, - five per cent are controlled by Roman Catholics, three per cent - by Wesleyans, and some forty-two per cent by public boards of - education. All of these schools are subsidized by the state, yet - all, with few exceptions, give religious instruction. In Germany - there are but two strong religious organizations--the Roman Catholic - Church, mostly at the south, and the Lutheran, mostly at the north. - The state establishes all schools, furnishing most of the funds - for sustaining them and controlling their administration in large - measure; yet the morning hour of the day is devoted to instruction - in religion. Not so in the United States. Here, religious teaching - is, to all appearances, permanently excluded from the public - schools. In this condition of affairs there is but one resource: - we must the more diligently insist upon those things that reflect - the content of religion. That is, we must teach children to live in - close cooperative union with their fellows. The subjective side of - this training is portrayed in the sections that follow, where the - transformation of ethical insights into ethical habits is discussed. - -182. To speak of strife first, which cannot easily be wholly prevented -among children, and which is present to their minds, at least as a -possibility, self-help against unexpected bodily assaults cannot be -forbidden. A determined self-defence is rather to be recommended, but -self-defence paired with a merciful treatment of one's assailant. On -the other hand, it is necessary to prohibit absolutely any arbitrary -appropriation of objects, even though these objects should consist -of ownerless or discarded trifles. No one must imagine that his mere -pleasure is a law unto others. On the contrary, children ought to get -used to limitations on ownership. That which has been given them for a -certain purpose is to be used for that purpose alone, and must be taken -care of with that purpose in view. Promises among children should not -lightly be declared void, however foolish and impossible of fulfilment. -The boy who, by a hasty promise, puts himself in an embarrassing -position must be made conscious of the fact. Let his perplexity serve -as a warning for the future. But over-hasty promises are to be accepted -as little as they are to be made; and here is where we have to begin in -untying the knots in which children occasionally entangle themselves. - -It is not undesirable that pupils by their own acts furnish themselves -with a few keenly-felt instances of complicated questions of rights. -But pleasure in wrangling must be discountenanced; the pupils should -learn to prevent and to avoid contention. They may gain enough -familiarity with it to realize that it gives displeasure. - -183. At this point two paths open to our reflection. In the first -place, contention pleases children because it implies strength; in -seeking it they are, as a rule, merely giving vent to excess of animal -spirits. The outlet in this direction we must block, but we must -furnish another elsewhere. Gymnastic exercises, too, are exhibitions -of strength; emulation, which is not contention, is a welcome -feature of sport and play. Mental activity likewise affords suitable -opportunities for excelling; it also provides proper occasions for -making comparisons; but relative excellence, children must understand -distinctly, is not to be advanced by them as a basis for claims. Where -the question is one of degree of attainment,--therefore one of _perfice -te_,--the pupil is supplied with a practically useful standard by his -own progress and retrogression. To hold up one pupil as a model for -another to follow awakens envy; it will be much better, instead, to -make allowances where a weak pupil cannot do more than he is actually -doing. - - In all the ages of the past men have been the teachers of boys. Being - men, they have naturally taken the man's attitude toward youthful - conduct. When one boy is gratuitously assaulted by another, they have - upheld a sturdy self-defence as belonging to self-respect. In their - eyes an unsuccessful defence is better than a cowardly retreat. With - the advent of women as the teachers of boys it is natural that the - doctrine of passive non-resistance should be emphasized. When women - were only the physical mothers of the race, there was no danger of - the decay of virility, but now that they have become the intellectual - mothers as well, there may be such a danger. It is generally - conceded that the English boys' schools, like Eton, Harrow, and - Rugby, have been the best English conservers of independent manhood, - for there every boy stood on his own merits, having to fight his own - battles, being responsible for his own conduct, and at the same time - living under a high code of boyish honor. In our own public schools, - where no such _esprit de corps_ is possible, and where the doctrine - of peace at any price is likely to be insisted upon, it is possible - that there may be a distinct decline of virility in the boys. Such - a result would be deplorable; it would work to the detriment of - public education, and would decrease in public estimation the value - of woman's services in the schoolroom. While discouraging strife, a - teacher may, by a word of approval or excuse, justify an exercise of - primitive defence of the person against unwarranted assault. Manly - social games, like foot-ball, basket-ball, base-ball, are our best - resources in developing those phases of character that are closely - associated with motor efficiency. Here under proper guidance, - self-control, sense of power and efficiency, courage, and almost - every characteristic of virility may be happily developed. That - forethought and supervision are needed is most true, else unlovely - traits of character may easily get the upper hand. - -184. The second of the two ways alluded to takes us from the idea of -rights to that of equity. Strife is displeasing, but revenge still -more, notwithstanding the truth of the saying: what is fair for one -is fair for another. Children may indeed exercise their ethical -acumen by trying to determine how much one deserves to suffer or to -receive at the hands of others for the liberties he has taken or the -self-restraint he has practised, but they are not to arrogate to -themselves the function of inflicting punishments or of bestowing -rewards. Without surrendering their own insight, they must in this -respect submit willingly to the authority of their superiors. - -A similar course is to be pursued with reference to the distribution -of presents, enjoyments, and marks of approval. To avoid giving the -appearance of favoritism, the teacher should not, except for very good -reasons, depart from the principle of equal division; but, on the other -hand, he should refuse to accord to the pupils a right to these free -gifts. While permitting them to have an opinion on the appropriateness -of a greater or smaller share, he will properly deny them any right to -demand by virtue of this opinion. - -185. In cases deeply engaging the children's own sense of justice and -equity, complaisance and readiness to yield should not be exacted on -the spot. Children must have time to get to the end of their thoughts, -and to weary of what is often very fruitless brooding, before they -realize that to yield is after all a necessity, and hence in no sense a -matter of magnanimous choice. At some future time they may be reminded -that their path would have been smoother if the sentiment of good-will -had been in control from the beginning and had arbitrated the dispute, -or rather had prevented it entirely. - -Good-will is to be revered everywhere as higher than right; still the -latter must be represented as something that cannot be set aside with -impunity, unless it be by common agreement; that is, in consequence of -the consent of the holders of rights. - - There are two distinct aspects to good-will,--the benevolent, and - the cooperative or social. The well-known story of the Jericho Road - illustrates the first. He is the good neighbor who rescues the life - of the man who has been assaulted by the way. But social good-will - is more than benevolence; it is cooperation for the accomplishment - of common purposes. Among farmers it means mutual care to prevent - aggression, because of unruly stock or bad fences; it involves - combined efforts for good schools, good roads, public libraries, - educational agencies for promoting successful farming, associations - for promoting successful pleasures. In cities social good-will means - cooperation for paving and lighting streets, for the suppression of - crime, for furnishing good water and efficient sewerage, for defence - against fire, for rapid transit, besides the myriad agencies for - promoting the mental, moral, and spiritual welfare of the people. - A man in a city needs to be a good neighbor to everybody, even - though he may know personally but one in a million. In other words, - the civic man must be a brother, not only to him who falls among - thieves, but to him who lives among them; not only to his brother in - adversity, but also to his brother in prosperity. - -186. Finally, the degrees of difference among older boys, and -especially among young men, with respect to the nearness with which -they approach the still distant realization of the idea of inner -freedom, are, as a rule, sufficiently marked to be patent to all. The -superior excellence of those distinguished for steady and rational -conduct is usually dwelt on by the teacher rather too much than too -little; children are themselves too keen in observing each other's -shortcomings not to see how far behind the best some are. We ought, -therefore, rather to avoid stimulating in children the tendency to -belittle others, than to turn their attention to that which does not -escape them anyway. - -187. The bad conduct of adults near to the pupils will not, of course, -be exposed by the teacher; and if publicly known, the example set -will repel more than allure, so long as self-interest does not prompt -imitation or a search for excuses. But we need not entertain much -hope either that a worthy example will be followed; youth is too -prone to regard rectitude as a matter of course. Hence it will not be -superfluous to call special attention to right conduct, and to give -expression to the esteem which is its due. This applies particularly -to the time when a growing boy's outlook over society widens, and he -begins to compare many things whose false glitter might deceive him. - - There are many aspects of inner freedom. It is possible for a - narrow-minded man to live in perfect tranquillity, so far as his - conscience is concerned. Even if one lived true to Kant's categorical - imperative, which says, "So act that the maxims, or rules, of your - conduct might, through your own will, become universal laws," it - would still be possible for one to have a mind at peace with itself - while doing things that a higher code of morality would forbid. For - example, suppose I am an American Indian, and the question arises, - Shall I torture my enemies? Of course: do not the traditions of my - tribe prescribe it? This simply means that our ideals of conduct - grow out of our environment; they are social in their genesis. This - truth shows the infinite importance of making instruction reveal - clearly the best ideals of religion and civilization, for there may - be as much inward freedom, or good conscience, in the slums as in the - wealthy districts of the city. Subjective peace of mind may mean much - or little. A murderer may sleep as soundly as a missionary, but a man - of high ideals is whipped as with scorpions, if his conduct be base. - He feels that his higher self is outraged; he has no peace except - through repentance, restitution, and reform. - -188. Fifth. The pupil's mind, we will suppose, has been properly -directed, partly through the social relations obtaining among children, -partly through examples and instruction, to the requirements of the -various moral ideas, and he has learned accordingly to discriminate -with some keenness between will relations. Now the time has arrived for -moral education in the strict sense. For we cannot leave it to chance -whether our young charges will, of their own initiative, synthesize -for themselves noble actions on the one hand and base actions on the -other, whether they will take time to reflect, and will, each for -himself, apply the lessons taught. On the contrary, they all have to -be told, each one individually has to be told, truths that no one is -wont to hear with pleasure. The more thoroughly the teacher knows his -pupils, the better. By showing them that he divines their thoughts, he -supplies them with the most effectual incentive to self-observation. -Now the basis of what is commonly known as moralizing is furnished -by a retrospective view of the pupil's conduct for some time past, -by references to influences formerly at work within him, and by an -analysis of his good and bad qualities. Such teaching is by no means -to be condemned, nor even to be regarded as superfluous. In its proper -place it is absolutely essential. Many, it is true, grow up without -ever having heard a serious word of deserved censure, but no one ought -to grow up in that way. - -189. Only praise and censure are thought of here, not harsh words, much -less harsh treatment. Reprimands and punishments following upon single -acts are something different; they, too, may lead to moral reflections, -but must first have become things of the past. Moral improvement is not -brought about by the constraint of government, nor is it the result -of those pedagogical punishments which warn the pupil and sharpen his -wits by means of the natural consequences of actions (157). But it is -brought about through the imitation of the language of conscience and -of genuine honor, as seen in impartial spectators. Moreover, this -does not exclude consideration of the excuses which every one readily -finds in his heart. But while due allowance is made for mitigating -circumstances, the pupil is cautioned against relying on them in future. - -190. Ordinarily youth deserves neither strong commendation nor severe -criticism, and it is well to guard carefully against exaggeration -in either direction, if for no other reason than merely this, that -exaggeration either detracts from effectiveness, or else causes, -if not timidity, at least an unfortunate embarrassment. There is -one species of magnifying, however, which subserves a good purpose, -because it enables pupils to see more clearly the importance of -trifles and the great significance of their own actions, and in this -way helps to counteract thoughtlessness. We refer to viewing the -present in the light of the future. The pettiest faults are liable to -grow through habit; the faintest desire, unless kept under control, -may turn into passion. Then, too, the future circumstances of one's -life are uncertain; allurements and temptations may come into it, or -unlooked-for misfortunes. This prevision of the possibilities of the -future is, of course, not prophecy, and no such claim should be made -for it; nevertheless, it does good service as a warning. - -191. When the pupil has been brought to the point where he regards -his moral education as a matter of serious import, instruction in -conjunction with a growing knowledge of the world may bring it about -that a glow of moral sentiment permeates his whole thought, and that -the idea of a moral order unites on the one hand with his religious -concepts, and with his self-observation on the other. Henceforth the -direct, emphatic expression of praise or censure will have to be less -frequent. It will no longer be as easy as formerly to give a clearer -account to the pupil of what goes on within him than he has already -rendered to himself. We may still, however, come to his assistance from -another direction, namely, that of general concepts,--a field in which -advancing youthful reflection is little by little finding its bearings. - -192. Sixth. It is the business of training to remind at the right -moment and to correct faults. We may safely assume that, even after a -young man has reached the plane of moral decisions, he will still stand -in need of frequent reminders, although in this respect individuals -exhibit great differences, which observation alone is able to reveal. -But that which he is reminded of consists of resolves which lay claim -to something like universal validity, but which are not likely to make -good that claim when incorrectly formulated or conceived in the wrong -connection. General considerations become predominant with only a very -few at best; but youth especially sees and experiences so much that -is new that the old is easily slighted for the new, and, accordingly, -the general for the particular still more. Nevertheless, it is far -easier for training to remind and to correct with success where a good, -firm foundation has been laid, than it is to support (161-166) when in -adolescence nothing is found by which the pupil might try to steady -himself. - -193. It is evident from the wide divergence among the principles which -schools old and new have accepted as the basis of ethics and of systems -of justice, that many conflicting, or at any rate, one-sided views may -arise when the attempt is made to introduce order, definiteness, and -consistency into existing ethical concepts. This whole conflict and -one-sidedness of opinion, together with the innumerable fluctuations -that may find a place here besides,--all this is likely to be -reproduced in youthful minds, particularly where they make it a point -of going their own way. Very frequently acquired principles adjust -themselves to inclinations; the subjective side of character adapts -itself to the objective. Now, while it is the business of instruction -to correct error, training must avail itself of those opportunities -that reveal a directing of thoughts by inclination. - -194. When, however, the pupil has once established confidence -in his disposition as well as in his principles, training must -withdraw. Unnecessary judging and over-anxious observation would only -impair naturalness, and give rise to extraneous motives. When once -self-culture has been assumed, it should be left alone. - - - - -SECTION IV - -SYNOPSIS OF GENERAL PEDAGOGICS FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF AGE - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=The First Three Years= - - -195. Owing to the delicate character of the thread of life during -the earliest years, care for the body, a subject falling outside the -limits of the present discussion, has precedence of everything else. -The state of health, accordingly, implies great variations in the time -available for profitable culture of the mind. But short as this time -may be, it is extremely important, because of the great receptivity and -susceptibility of the first period of life. - - The lines of study suggested by these few remarks upon infancy have - been arduously pursued in recent years by Perez,[21] Preyer,[22] - Baldwin,[23] and others. The attempt has been made in these works - to show how the psychical and physical powers of the young child - actually unfold. In this way it has been possible to correct many - erroneous deductions from adult psychology, thus making elementary - training more successful. - -[21] Perez, "The First Three Years of Childhood." - -[22] Preyer, (a) "Mental Development in the Child," (b) "The -Development of the Intellect," (c) "The Senses and the Will." - -[23] Baldwin, (a) "Mental Development in the Child and the Race," -(b) "Social and Ethical Interpretations." - -196. Those moments when the child is fully awake and free from -suffering should always be utilized by presenting, but not obtruding, -something for sense-perception. Powerful impressions are to be avoided. -The same caution applies to violent changes; very slight variations -often suffice to revive waning attention. It is desirable to secure a -certain completeness of eye- and ear-impressions, so that the senses -may be equally at home everywhere within the fields of sight and sound. - -197. As far as safety permits, the spontaneous activity of the child -should have free play, primarily that he may get practice in the use of -every limb, but also in order that by his own attempts his observations -of objects and their changeableness may be enlarged. - -198. Unpleasant, repellent impressions of persons, whoever they are, -must be most carefully guarded against. No one can be allowed to treat -a child as a plaything. - -199. On the other hand, no one must allow himself to be ruled by a -child, least of all when the child becomes importunate. Otherwise, -wilfulness will be the inevitable consequence, a result almost -unavoidable with sickly children, by reason of the attention demanded -by their sufferings. - -200. A child must always feel the superiority of adults, and often his -own helplessness. The necessary obedience is founded on this feeling. -With consistent treatment, persons constantly about the child will -secure obedience more readily than others who are rarely present. -Outbursts of passion must be given time to subside unless circumstances -urgently require a different course. - -201. On rare occasions there may be an exhibition of force inspiring -enough fear to make a threat effective and to check an excess of animal -spirits. For if government is to escape the extremely harmful necessity -of severe disciplinary measures later on, it must become firmly -established during the earliest years of childhood. - -202. The language of children demands scrupulous attention from the -beginning, in order to prevent the formation of incorrect and careless -habits of speech, which at a later period it usually requires much -trouble and loss of time to eradicate. But literary forms of expression -that are beyond the comprehension of children are to be strictly -avoided. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Ages from Four to Eight= - - -203. The real boundary line is fixed not by age, but by that stage of -development when the helplessness of the first stage is superseded by -control of the limbs and a connected use of language. And the mere -fact that children are now able to free themselves from much momentary -discomfort carries with it greater calmness and cheerfulness. - -204. In proportion as the child learns to help himself, assistance from -without must be withdrawn. At the same time government must increase -in firmness, and with many children in severity, until the last traces -of that wilfulness vanish, which the former period does not as a rule -wholly escape. But this presupposes that no one provoke the child -unnecessarily to any kind of resistance. The firmer the established -order of things about the child, the readier his compliance. - -205. The child must be given as much freedom as circumstances will -permit, one purpose being to induce frank self-expression, and to -obtain data for a study of his individuality. Still, the main thing -at this age is to guard against bad habits, especially such as are -connected with objectionable tendencies of disposition. - -206. Two of the ethical ideas concern us here directly, each, however, -in its own way. They are the ideas of good-will and perfection. Some -particular aspects of the latter a child will almost always hit upon -himself. The former less often springs up spontaneously; it has to be -implanted, and this cannot always be done directly. - -207. The ill-will, which many children exhibit frequently, is always -a bad sign,--one that needs to be treated very seriously. A character -once perverted in this respect can no longer be radically changed -for the better. And this perversion sometimes begins very early. The -steps to be taken in this connection are determined by the following -considerations:-- - -208. In the first place, younger children are not to be left alone very -much. Their life should be a social life, and their social circle one -subject to strict order. This requirement fulfilled, all manifestations -of ill-will are at variance with the rule; and as soon as they appear, -the child finds himself opposed by the existing state of things. Now, -the more he has grown accustomed to participation in the common will, -to occupying his time, and being happy within its pale, the less will -he be able to bear the feeling of isolation. To punish a child for an -exhibition of ill-will, leave him alone. - -209. But such punishment presupposes the undiminished sensitiveness of -the younger child, who, on being left alone, begins to cry, and feels -utterly helpless and weak, but who, on the other hand, becomes cheerful -again the moment he is readmitted into the social circle. If this -period has been neglected, if the ill-disposed child has already caused -aversion in the circle in which he could have been happy, one feeling -of ill-will begets another in return, and nothing remains but to insist -on strict justice. - -210. The mere social spirit which keeps ill-will at a distance, is, of -course, very far from being good-will; children are even prone to look -upon descriptive illustrations of the latter, in the ordinary run of -books for children, as fables easily invented. Hence the first thing -to make sure of is faith in good-will. We have in mind here especially -the child who through force of habit has lost his appreciation of the -kindnesses constantly showered upon him in the course of his education. -Deprive him of some of the care to which he is accustomed; its renewal -will then make him recognize and prize it as a voluntary act. When, -on the contrary, children regard what is being done for them as their -right, or as the effect of some sort of mechanism, this blunder of -theirs becomes a fruitful source of the most manifold moral evils. - -211. To the union of kindness with the necessary degree of severity, we -must add friendliness, lest the heart of the child become chilled, and -the germs of good-will perish. During the period under consideration, -the child's frame of mind is still determined directly by the treatment -he receives. Continued unfriendliness of manner produces dull -indifference. The twofold problem of lifting the idea of good-will into -adequate prominence and of actually awakening sentiments of good-will -can, it is true, not be solved as early as childhood. But much has been -gained if sympathy, supported by sociable cheerfulness, unites with a -belief in the good-will of those on whom the child feels dependent, as -if they were higher beings. The soil is ready now for religious culture -and its furthering influences. - -212. The idea of perfection in its universal aspect is indeed as -foreign to the child's mind as that of good-will; nevertheless, the -rudiments of what this idea implies can be imparted with far greater -assurance of success. As the child grows and thrives, his strength -and accomplishments increase likewise, and he takes pleasure in his -own progress. But here innumerable differences in kind and in degree -demand our observation, particularly in view of the purpose of linking -instruction to the stage of growth. For it is during this period that -synthetic as well as analytic instruction begins, although it does not -as yet normally constitute the chief occupation of the child. - -213. As the child's sphere of free activity widens and his own -attempts create a growing store of experiences, which the teacher will -often find it very necessary to augment by purposely showing him about, -the earlier fancies are gradually being overbalanced by experiential -knowledge, although different individuals may exhibit great variations -of ratio. From this impulse to appropriate the new, spring the numerous -questions children put to the teacher, on the tacit assumption that he -is omniscient. They are the outcome of the mood of the moment, they are -purposeless, and most of them do not recur if not answered then and -there. Many of them concern words alone, and cease on mention of some -suitable designation of the object in question. Others relate to the -connection of events, especially to motives underlying the actions of -human beings, fictitious and real alike. Now, although many questions -cannot, while others must not, be answered, the tendency to ask -questions should, generally speaking, receive constant encouragement as -a sign of native interest, of the absence of which the teacher often -becomes painfully aware later on without being able by any skill on his -part to revive it. Here an opportunity is presented for preparing the -ground in many directions for future instruction. Only, the teacher -has to refrain, in answering questions, from the prolixity of untimely -thoroughness; what he ought to do is to sail on the waves of childish -fancy. And this does not usually lend itself to experiments; its -movements are, on the contrary, often inconveniently capricious. - -214. So long as there can be no fixed time for the analytic lessons -woven into answers to the questions of children, analytic instruction -is coincident with the guidance of the child's attention, with his -social intercourse, with his occupations and the consequent cultivation -of habits, with hardening exercises, ethical judgments, and the -earliest religious impressions; in some measure also with reading -exercises. - -215. To the latter portion of this period belong the first steps in -synthetic instruction, reading, writing, ciphering, the simplest modes -of arrangement, and the first observation exercises. If the child -is as yet incapable of uniform attention during a whole hour, the -teacher will be satisfied with smaller divisions of time; the degree of -attention is more important than its duration. - -Note that the subjects enumerated fall into different groups. Counting, -arranging, observing, are different phases of the natural development -of the mind. Instruction does not create these activities; its business -is merely to accelerate them. At the beginning, therefore, our mode -of procedure must be as much as possible analytic. On the other hand, -reading and writing can be taught only synthetically, although on the -basis of an antecedent analysis of speech sounds. - -(1) Arranging--commonly neglected, though wrongly so--is an -exceedingly easy exercise in itself, and facilitates the performance of -many other tasks. It is therefore appropriate for children. That three -objects may change places from right to left (from front to rear, from -above to below) and _vice versa_--this is the beginning. The next step -is to show that three objects admit of six permutations in a straight -line. To find how many pairs can be formed out of a given number of -objects, is one of the easiest problems. How far to go, is a matter to -be determined by circumstances. Not letters, however, but objects,--the -children themselves,--should be changed about, permuted, and varied in -position. The teaching of a subject like this must in a measure have -the semblance of play. - -(2) The first observation exercises begin with straight lines drawn -vertically or cross-wise. Use may be made also of knitting needles -variously placed, side by side or across each other, of domino checks, -and of similar objects. Next comes the circle, subdivided and presented -in manifold ways. - -(3) For arithmetic, likewise, concrete objects are needed,--coins, -for example, which are counted and arranged in different groups to -illustrate sums, differences, and products. At first the highest number -employed should not exceed, say, twelve or twenty. - -(4) For work in reading we may avail ourselves of letters and numbers -printed on cards, which lend themselves to a variety of arrangements. -If children are slow about learning to read, the blunder must not be -made of neglecting their mental culture in other directions, as though -reading were its necessary prerequisite. Reading often demands a large -amount of patience, and should never be allowed to produce a feeling of -aversion to teachers and books. - -(5) Writing is ushered in by the elementary drawing that must accompany -observation exercises. Writing itself, when once well started, furthers -reading. - -216. But already at this point many fall behind. Puzzled at first by -the demand upon them for the dull labor of learning, they surrender -themselves later on to the feeling of incapacity. In large schools, -where there are always some outstripping the rest, and where the -majority are trying to keep up with the pace set, performance can be -had more readily, although it is performance by imitation rather than -by an inner sequence of thought. And even here we find thoroughly -disheartened laggards. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=Boyhood= - - -217. The boundary line between boyhood and early childhood is fixed, so -far as this is possible at all, by the fact that the boy, if allowed to -do so, will leave the company of adults. Formerly he felt insecure when -left alone: now he considers himself fairly well acquainted with his -immediate environment, beyond which vistas of all sorts are opening. -Accordingly, at this stage it becomes incumbent on the adult to attach -himself to the boy, to restrain him, to divide the time for him, and -to circumscribe the fancies born of his self-confidence,--a course of -action rendered all the more necessary by the circumstance that the boy -is a stranger as yet to the timidity with which the youth joins the -ranks of men. For boyhood is marked off from adolescence by this, that -the boy's aims are still unsettled; he plays and takes no thought of -to-morrow. Moreover, his dream of manhood is one of arbitrary power. -The play-impulse remains active for a long time, unless checked by -conventionality. - -During this period, the work of linking instruction to sense-impression -is by no means to be omitted entirely, not even where fair progress -has already been made in scholarship. We must make sure of a solid -foundation. - -218. Our chief concern during the age of boyhood must be to prevent -the premature fixation of the circle of ideas. It is for instruction -to undertake the task of doing so. True, by far the greatest part of -the process of learning, however manifold, is performed through the -interpretation of words, the pupil supplying the meaning out of the -mental store collected previously. But this very fact obviously implies -that quantitively the pupil's stock of ideas is for the most part -complete; instruction merely works it up into new forms. Accordingly, -such shaping must take place while the material is still in a plastic -state; for with increasing years it gradually assumes a more solid -character. - -219. Boys differ from girls, individuals differ from one another; -and the subjects taught, together with the methods of teaching them, -should be differentiated accordingly. But here the family interposes -the interests of rank or station, and claims the right to determine by -these how much or how little instruction a boy needs. - -Looked at pedagogically, each study calls for a corresponding mental -activity to be suited to the general condition of the individual. Its -success must not involve exhaustion of the pupil's powers, nor make -demands upon them at the wrong time. - -But it would be an error to argue that one who is being initiated -into one subject ought to combine with that subject a second, third, -or fourth, on the ground that subjects one, two, three, and four are -essentially interrelated. This conclusion holds for scholars, who, -so far as they are personally concerned, have long passed beyond -preliminary pedagogical considerations, and even in their case it -applies only to those branches which are intimately connected with -their specialties; it has nothing to do with the psychological -conditions by which the course of education must be governed. Only too -frequently do masses of ideas remain isolated despite the fact that -the objects corresponding to them are most intimately and necessarily -interconnected; and such isolation could not have been prevented by -merely starting work in a large web of erudition in a number of places. - -The case is different where certain studies constitute the necessary -preparation for thorough knowledge of one kind or another. Here we are -right in concluding that one who cannot master the former is equally -unable to get hold of the latter.[24] - -[24] These remarks upon correlation are instructive in view of later -developments of the Herbartian school in Germany. The reader is -referred to discussions in the First and Second Year-Books of the -National Herbart Society. - -220. It is difficult to deal with the rare instances of tardy -development unless we find that they are due to neglected health, -or to lack of assistance in enlarging the range of experience, and -to failure to change the mode of instruction. Here an attempt may be -made to supply what is wanting. But even where the rate of progress -becomes more rapid at once, the teacher's efforts will have turned -out favorably only when the boy gives also clear proof of a vigorous -striving for advancement. - -221. To revert to fundamental ethical principles, particular mention of -the ideas of justice and equity needs to be made in this connection. -These ideas issue from reflection on human relations; they are -consequently less accessible to early childhood, which finds itself -subordinated everywhere to the family. The boy, on the other hand, -lives more among his peers, and the necessary corrections are not -always administered so promptly as to leave no time for independent -judgment. Not infrequently voluntary association takes place among -boys, personal authority plays a part, and even usurpation of power is -not rare. Now, education has to provide for clear ethical concepts and -for government and training besides. But not only that; it must also -furnish the kind of instruction that will exhibit similar but remote -relations, for purposes of unbiassed contemplation. Such instruction -must borrow its material from poetry and history. - -222. To history we are referred by still another consideration. As -has already been shown (206-211), the idea of good-will points to -the necessity of religious culture; and this relies for support on -stories, old stories at that. The expansion of the pupil's power of -thought which is here demanded must be generally attained, even though -very incompletely, in every course of instruction, that of the village -school included. - -223. Another fixed goal, the importance of which exceeds even that of -reading and writing, is furnished by arithmetic, which gives clearness -to the common concepts of experience, and is indispensable in the -practical affairs of life. - -224. Decimal arithmetic no pupil would be likely to think out by -himself; he would very certainly not invent Bible history. Both must -accordingly be regarded as belonging preeminently to the province of -synthetic instruction, which always involves the difficult problem of -how to assure its entrance, as a potent factor, into existing masses -of ideas. As to this, it would be a blunder to conclude that, since -Bible history and history as a whole, arithmetic and mathematics as -a whole, hang together, there is also a corresponding pedagogical -connection (219). But so much is certain, that the efficiency of -a group of ideas increases with expansion and with multiplied -association. It will be an advantage, therefore, to Bible history -and to arithmetic, if as wide a range is given to historical and -mathematical teaching as circumstances and ability permit, even if -the conditions should be such that a many-sided culture is not to be -expected. - -225. The subjects next to be considered in the choice of material for -instruction are poetry and natural history, great care being taken -not to disregard the necessary sequence. The time for fables and -stories should not be curtailed; it is important to make sure that -boys do not lose the taste for them too early. The easiest and safest -facts of zoology will have been presented already in connection with -the picture-books of childhood. The right moment for introducing the -elements of botany has arrived when the boy is collecting plants. -Foreign languages would be assigned the lowest place, if particular -circumstances did not in many cases lend them a special importance. -The ancient classical languages, at any rate, form to such an extent -the basis of the study of theology, of jurisprudence, and of medicine, -they are so necessary to all higher scholarship, that they will -always constitute the fundamental branches of instruction in academic -preparatory schools. - -It is obvious, however, that the extent of instruction depends too -much on external conditions of rank and means to permit a definite -prescription of instruction-material for all cases. Far less dependent -is the development of many-sided interest in its relation to branches -of study. If the limits set to the latter are narrow, it is still the -business of instruction to secure an approximation to many-sided -culture; while under highly favorable circumstances the very abundance -of educational help must put the teacher on his guard against losing -sight of the real aim of instruction. - -226. Frequently the burden of necessary and useful studies is made -excessively heavy, a fact which the members of the teaching profession -try to conceal from themselves, but which attracts the attention of -outsiders. A few hours of gymnastics do not sufficiently counteract -such evil effects. As an offset we have at best the prevention of -the vices of idleness. From every point of view, for the mere reason -that this matter calls for special attention and that the method of -procedure has to be determined in accordance with the results of -observation, the home must do its part toward relieving that natural -strain which even good instruction exerts--and the school must not -encroach on the time necessary for that purpose. In extreme cases, to -be sure, it may be expressly demanded that the school engage the whole -of a boy's time. But, as a rule, outside school-work should take up, -not the largest, but, on the contrary, the smallest amount of time -possible. How the remaining hours are to be employed is for parents -and guardians to decide according to individual needs, ascertained -by observation; and it is on them that the responsibility for the -consequences rests. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=Youth= - - -227. Whether instruction comes to an end or is continued during -this period, all it can accomplish depends now on the fulfilment -of the condition that the young man himself regard the retention -and increase of his attainments as something valuable. Accordingly, -the interrelations of knowledge, as well as its connection with -action, must be brought before his mind with the greatest possible -distinctness. He must be furnished, also, with the strongest incentives -to reach the goal determined upon, provided the question is merely how -to overcome indolence and thoughtlessness. For it is just at this stage -that the teacher needs to fear and to prevent those wrong motives which -would issue merely in an artificial semblance of talent. - -228. Moreover, the allowance made for the child and the boy can no -longer be made for the youth. His whole ability is to be put to the -test, and his position in human society determined according to the -outcome. He must experience something of the difficulty of obtaining -a foothold among men. Positions for which he does not seem quite -prepared are contested; he is surrounded by rivals, and is spurred -on by expectations, which it is often difficult to moderate when most -necessary. - -229. If now the young man puts his trust in favorable circumstances, -and, in spite of all appeals, gives himself up to the pursuit of ease -and pleasure, education is at an end. It only remains to conclude with -precepts and representations which future experiences may possibly -recall. - -230. If, on the other hand, the youth has his eyes fixed on a definite -goal, the form of life which he is striving to attain, and the motives -that impel him, will determine what else may be done for him. According -as the ideals of honor that he makes his own are directed more -outwardly or inwardly, they stand more or less midway between plans for -actions and maxims. - -231. The youth is no longer pliant, except when his failures have made -him feel ashamed of himself. Such cases must be made use of for the -purpose of making good deficiencies. But on the whole, duty requires -that the stern demands of morality be held up to him without disguise. -Perfect frankness can hardly be looked for any longer, and to insist -on it is out of the question entirely. The reserve of the age of -adolescence marks the natural beginning of self-control. - - These brief paragraphs on the development of the individual through - infancy, childhood, boyhood, and youth, mark an early interest - in what is now known as child-study, the literature of which has - become voluminous. For a dissertation on the experimental study of - children, and a bibliography of the subject, the reader is referred - to the monograph by Arthur McDonald, of the United States Bureau of - Education, entitled "Experimental Study of Children." A smaller but - more useful bibliography has been compiled by L. N. Wilson. It is - found in _Pedagogical Seminary_ for September, 1899. - - - - -PART III - -_SPECIAL APPLICATIONS OF PEDAGOGICS_ - - - - -SECTION I - -REMARKS ON THE TEACHINGS OF PARTICULAR BRANCHES OF STUDY - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=Religion= - - -232. The content of religious instruction is for theologians to -determine, while philosophy bears witness that no knowledge is able to -surpass the trust of religious faith. But both the beginning and the -end of religious instruction call for remarks from the point of view of -pedagogy. - -Religious instruction culminates, if it does not end, in the rite of -confirmation, and the subsequent admission to the Holy Communion. The -former is characteristic of a particular Christian denomination; the -latter, on the contrary, of the whole brotherhood of Christians. -Now the profound emotion which marks the first Communion service -should imply a conquest over the feeling of separation from other -denominations, especially since the mere admission to Communion is -conditioned on the general requirement of earnest ethical aspiration. -It is thus assumed that members of other confessions, provided they are -communicants at all, have fulfilled the same condition. Preparatory -instruction must work toward this end all the more, since with many -persons Christian love for those who differ from them in important -articles of faith belongs to the more difficult duties. Moreover, the -fact that this same instruction necessarily had to set forth clearly -fundamental denominational differences, lends additional weight to the -necessity of inculcating the virtue of Christian charity. - -233. In academic schools, if Greek is begun early enough, it is -possible to deepen the impressions of Christian teaching by the -dialogues of Plato that bear on the death of Socrates, particularly -the "Crito" and the "Apology." Being the weaker, however, impressions -of this sort should precede the time when the solemn initiation into -Christian fellowship produces its whole powerful effect. - -234. Going back in thought, we find that the portion of religious -instruction which deals with characteristic denominational -distinctions, presupposes that which deals with tenets common to all -Christians, and we find that this in turn has been preceded by Bible -stories, including those of the Old Testament. But the question arises, -"Must we not go back to something more fundamental still?" - -235. Religion cannot possibly be adequately presented by treating of it -merely as a perpetuation of something historical and past. The teacher -must needs make use also of the present testimony furnished by the -adjustment of means to end, in nature. But even this, for which some -knowledge of nature is prerequisite, and which leads up to the ideas of -wisdom and power, is not the first step. - -236. True family feeling is elevated easily and directly to the idea -of the Father, of the father and mother. Only where such feeling is -wanting does it become necessary to make churches and Sunday observance -the starting-point as indications of humility and gratitude. An -all-pervading love, providence, and watchful care constitute the first -concept of the Highest Being,--a concept limited by the mental horizon -of the child, and expanding and becoming more elevated only by degrees. - -237. The process of elevating religious concepts and purifying them -of unworthy admixtures must, however, have taken place, and the true -concepts must have been deeply impressed, before the mythological -conceptions of antiquity become known; in which case the latter will -produce the right effect by the contrast between the manifestly -fabulous and crude, and the worthy and sublime. If managed properly, -this subject presents no difficulties. - -238. But there are other difficulties,--difficulties growing out of -individual peculiarities. While some would be harmed by much talk -about sin, because they would thus either become acquainted with it, -or else be filled with fantastic terror, there are others whom only -the strongest language can move, and still others who themselves -preach against the sins of the world, and, at the same time, front the -world in proud security. Then there are those who brood over ethical -problems, and who, without having heard of Spinoza, argue that what the -Highest Judge has permitted to happen he has approved of, whence might -is the practical proof of right. There are contemners of mere morality, -who think that prayers will consecrate their evil actions. Isolated -traces of such perversions may indeed be met with even in children, -especially if their glib reproduction of the sermon, or worse yet, -their praying aloud, has happened to receive praise. - -Hence it is necessary to observe the effect of religious instruction on -each individual. Another task for home training. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=History= - - -239. The most common blunder that younger teachers of history are apt -to make is that, without intending it, they become increasingly prolix -in presentation. It is not that interest deepens, but that the network -of events lures them, now one way, now another. This of itself evinces -preparation; but mental preparation alone does not suffice; preliminary -practice, too, is necessary. - - Young teachers of history, like young teachers in other subjects, are - prone to error. What the prevailing error in a given study will be, - is likely to depend upon conventional methods of presenting it. In - Germany it is customary for the teacher himself to be the historian - through whose mind all historical knowledge passes on its way to - the children. But just as good writers of history are rare, so good - teachers of history are likely to be few, since in an important sense - they are at once teachers and oral historians. Where the text-book is - depended upon for the narrative, as in the United States, a different - difficulty presents itself to the teacher. What shall he do with the - text, all the pupils having read it? Perhaps the commonest method is - to call upon them one by one to reproduce it in class. But this is a - deadening process, since it compels nineteen pupils to sit passive - while the twentieth recites the words that the nineteen could repeat - equally well. If, therefore, the besetting fault of the teacher of - history in German is prolixity, that of the American teacher is - tediousness. The German method is that of primitive man, where the - legends of the tribe are handed down from father to son by word of - mouth; the American presentation of history is modern, where all the - resources of scholarship and the advantages of the printing press are - utilized. Each method has peculiar advantages, the former having the - possible charm of first-hand narrative, the latter that of accuracy - and comprehensiveness. The narrative method is greatly superior to - that of the text-book with children whose powers of reading are - not well developed; the text-book, together with its available - accessories, is greatly to be preferred with older pupils capable - of large amounts of reading. The following sections give a vivid - description of the narrative method at its best; the commentary will - attempt to show how the printed page may be made equally attractive, - and, at the same time, much more useful. - -240. If, to begin with, a purely chronological, but accurate, -outline-view of history is to be imparted, the teacher must be able -to traverse mentally the whole historical field, going with equal -readiness back, forward, or across (synchronistically). The notable -names must form definite groups and series; and the teacher must -possess facility in making the most notable names stand out clearly -from the groups, and in condensing the most salient points of a long -series into a short series. - - If this mastery of subject-matter is important for the narrator, it - is equally important for the teacher who depends upon print for the - narration. Observation of current history teaching betrays the fact - that the teacher rarely becomes master of his material to such an - extent that he can throw it into new forms. As it stands in the book, - he probably knows it; but to take liberties with the facts, to expand - parts, or throw masses into brief outline, to make new groupings, or - to change a long series into a short one, usually lies beyond his - ability. This lesson the American teacher must learn through a better - mastery of his materials. - -241. Again, the teacher must make himself perfectly familiar with -general notions that relate to classes of society--constitutions, -institutions, religious customs, stages of culture--and that serve -to explain events. But not only this; he must study likewise the -conditions under which he can develop them and keep them present in -the minds of his pupils. This consideration alone shuts out most -generalizations from the first lessons in history. And, accordingly, -ancient history, whose moving causes are simpler than the more modern -political factors, maintains its place in presentations of historical -material to younger pupils. - - American history is better than ancient history in respect to its - richness of picturesque variety. It is, moreover, easier for children - to comprehend, since our present conditions have emerged directly - from our pioneer state. Not only are constitutions, institutions, - and religious customs to be studied, but the economic conditions of - those early times are particularly worthy of study, since they are - both important and interesting. Methods of farming, of conducting - household affairs, such as cooking, making fires, producing - clothing, securing shelter, means of transportation on land and - water, methods of communication, and many other similar topics are of - interest to the young. - -242. Furthermore, due attention must be given to the difficulty of -narrating well a complex event. The very first condition is continuity -of the thought-current, in order that the thread of the story may -remain unbroken, except where there are intentional rests. This, in -turn, presupposes fluency of speech, careful cultivation of which is -indispensable to a good presentation of historical events. But mere -fluency does not suffice. There must also be resting-places, because -otherwise alternate absorption and reflection cannot be secured; and -because, without such pauses, even the formation of the series fails, -since what has preceded arrests what follows. It is therefore not -immaterial where a historical lesson begins and ends, and where the -reviews are inserted. - -While the narrator can utter words in succession only, the event has, -in his mind, a very different form, which it is his business to convey -to his hearers. Nor does the form of the event resemble a level plane; -on the contrary, a manifold interest lifts some things into prominence -and lets others sink. It is essential, accordingly, to distinguish how -far, in a given instance, the narration should follow in a straight -line the succession of events, and where, on the other hand, it should -deviate to include accessory circumstances. The very language used -must possess the power to induce side-glances and retrospective views, -even without leaving the main road. The narrator must have skill to -introduce descriptions here and to linger over pictures there, but must -be able also, while moving his hearers, to retain his own self-control -and to keep his bearings. - -243. There remains one other requisite of prime importance, namely, the -utmost simplicity of expression. The condensed and abstract language of -more recent historians is hardly suited even to the highest class of a -secondary school; a sentimental or witty treatment, such as that found -in modern novelists, must be avoided entirely. The only safe models are -the ancient classics. - - The most serious fault with the text-book method is the barrenness - arising from condensation. To teach history solely from a single - book, even if this be among the best, is to produce an atrophy of the - historical interest. It is on this account that successful teachers - introduce large amounts of collateral reading, not of similarly - condensed books, which would be like remedying the drouth with more - dry weather, but of sections from fuller works on the same subject. - In American history the pupil is directed to read selected portions - of standard works like those of Fiske, Parkman, McMaster, Turner, - Tyler, or earlier historians. In English history he is sent directly - to such men as Gardiner, Green, Freeman, Traill, Ransome, Cunningham - and McArthur, Harrison and Macaulay. The method of copious readings - has, in turn, its disadvantages, the most conspicuous of which is - diffusiveness. It is easy for the student to become so absorbed in - a mass of details that he lose the proper sense of proportion, or - overlook the relative importance of events, or fail to fix firmly - in mind the causal series that binds all together. In the case of - either of the methods described, it is the teacher who is responsible - for order and for clearness of detail. In the one case his narrative - must have the artistic unity of the finished historian; in the other - he must so manage a wealth of given material that the golden chain - of cause and effect shall be seen binding diversity into unity. The - ability to do the first is of a much rarer order than that of the - second, for the art of teaching is not so difficult as the art of - historical composition. The remedy for the specific difficulty which - modern text-book teaching of history encounters will be discussed - under paragraph 247. - -The stories of Herodotus should serve the teacher as the basis for -practice. In fact, they should actually be memorized in an accurate but -fluent translation. The effect on children is surprising. At a later -stage use may be made of Arrian and Livy. The method of the ancients of -letting the principal characters utter their views and set forth their -motives with their own lips, the narrator abstaining from reflections -of his own, should be scrupulously imitated, and should be departed -from only in the case of manifestly artificial rhetorical devices. - -244. The course of preparation outlined above (240-243) having gone -hand-in-hand with a thorough, pragmatic study of history, it is -further necessary, in the exercise of the art acquired, to learn to -expand or contract, according to circumstances and the specific aims of -each occasion. Concerning this point no generally applicable rules can -be given, on account of the great variety of possible cases; but the -following suggestions should be noted:-- - -In general, all helps whereby historical objects may be represented to -sense--portraits, pictures of buildings, of ruins, etc.--are desirable; -maps for the more ancient times must be regarded as particularly -indispensable. They should always be at hand, and their study -should not be neglected. Among these helps must be included charts, -substantially like that by Strass entitled "The Stream of Time," which -places before the eye not only synchronistic events, but at the same -time shows also the alternate union and division of countries. The lack -of such aids causes the loss of much time and temper over mere memory -work. - -Again, attention is due to the following four aspects of the teaching -of history:-- - -245. (1) In the first place, even the earliest lessons in geography -give rise to the question, whenever the description of a country is -finished, "How did things look in this country formerly?" For it is -a part of correct apprehension that cities and other works of man -should not be regarded as of equal age with mountains, rivers, and -oceans. Now, although the teacher cannot stop, during the time set -apart for geography dealing with the present, to show and explain maps -illustrative of the past, it will be useful, nevertheless, to add a -few remarks about the early history of the country under discussion. -The art of narration, however, is out of place here, inasmuch as the -question, although reaching back in time, is suggested by the country. -Mention of former activity, such as migrations and wars, is made simply -for the purpose of adding life to the conception of a stationary -surface. At the beginning, the notes on by-gone periods in connection -with the geography of Germany will accordingly be as brief as possible; -gradually, however, as France, England, Spain, Italy, are being studied -in succession, these historical notes become knit together, and history -is thus, so to speak, made to loom up in the distance. How far to go -in this direction can be determined more definitely by distinguishing -between the requirements of the first, and of the second course in -geography. In the first course the most general statements may suffice, -_e.g._, that not so very long ago Germany was split up more than now; -that there were older times, when cities and neighboring princes often -made war upon each other; that the barons used to live on more or less -inaccessible heights; but that, in the interest of better order and -stricter surveillance, Germany was divided into ten districts, etc. - -The second course will admit of more historical facts than the first, -although still only very few pertaining to an older epoch. Only the -more recent events can be conveniently connected with geography, except -in the case of still extant historical monuments,--such, for instance, -as the ruins in Italy, the composite language of England, the peculiar -political organization of Switzerland with its many subdivisions, -visible on the map, and its diversities of language. - -If, as is sometimes recommended, the plan is adopted of preparing -the way for the study of mediaeval and modern history by a separate -introductory course in short biographies, such a plan, though at best -only fragmentary in its results, becomes at least more feasible where -historical notes of the kind just mentioned are incorporated with the -lessons in geography. But in this case it is all the more essential to -have a chronological chart upon the wall, to some dates of which the -teacher must take every opportunity to refer, in order that the pupils -may obtain at least some fixed points. Otherwise scattered biographies -are liable to occasion great confusion. - -246. (2) The chief basis for the earlier stages of historical teaching -will always be Greek and Roman history. It will not be inappropriate -to commence with a few charming stories from Homeric mythology, since -there is a close connection between the history of a people and their -religion. Two wrong ways, however, are to be avoided: one, that of -giving a detailed theogony or of including objectionable myths, for -the sake of completeness, which would here be devoid of a rational -purpose; the other, that of having the mythological elements memorized. -Only true history should be memorized by children. Mythology is a study -for youths or men. - -Persian history must be told approximately in the sequence and setting -given by Herodotus; to it the history of Assyria and of Egypt may -be joined in the form of episodes, Greece being kept well in the -foreground. The stories from the Old Testament, on the other hand, form -a chain of lessons by themselves. The history of Rome must at first -retain its mythical beginnings. - - Whatever German opinion may be regarding the beginnings of historical - instruction for their own children, American history possesses - strong claims for precedence when we come to children of the United - States. If we regard the chief intellectual purpose of history for - the student to be the understanding of the present status through - a knowledge of the historical progress that has led to it, then - the primitive and pioneer history of this country is infinitely - more valuable than any other to an American child, for in it lie - enfolded the forces that have developed our people; whereas Greece - and Rome are as distant in influence as they are in time. It is the - mythology of Greece and Rome that most attracts children; but this - belongs to literature rather than to history. Accounts of battles - are about the same the world over, but it takes more maturity of - mind to understand the Greek rage for individuality after the rise - of philosophy, than it does to understand a corresponding feeling - among the American pioneers, to say nothing of the desirability of - teaching the latter as a phase of our own development. For reasons - of simplicity, therefore, as well as for psychological nearness and - national importance, American history must take precedence over that - of Greece and Rome for American children. - -247. Suppose, now, that detailed stories after the models furnished by -the ancients have won the attention of the pupils; the mere pleasure -of listening to stories can nevertheless not be allowed to determine -continuously the impression to be produced. Condensed surveys must -follow, and a few of the main facts be memorized in chronological order. - -The following suggestions will be in place here. The chief events are -to attach themselves in the memory to the memorized dates in such a -way that no confusion can arise. Now, a single date may suffice for -the group of connected incidents constituting one main event; if it -seems necessary to add another, or a third, well and good, but to -keep on multiplying dates defeats the very end aimed at. The more -dates the weaker their effect, on account of the growing difficulty -of remembering them all. In the history of one country dates should -rather remain apart as far as possible, in order that the intervening -numbers may be all the more available for purposes of synchronistic -tabulation, by which the histories of different countries are to be -brought together and connected. The same sparing use should be made of -the facts of ancient geography, but those that are introduced must be -learned accurately. - - Granted that the primitive method of historical narration by the - teacher is the most effective in its appeal to the beginner, it - must be maintained that the combined knowledge and literary skill - of modern historians infinitely surpass the powers of the ordinary - teacher. The modern problem is, not how to compose history, but how - to utilize that which has been composed. It is, in short, to guard - against the confusion that comes from diffuseness. Wide historical - reading may be as bad for the student as wide reading of novels. The - mind may surrender itself to the passing panorama as completely in - the one field as in the other, until the impressions made are like - those of a ship upon a sea. The remedy is the thorough organization - in the mind of the student of the knowledge gained in diverse fields. - This is secured by teacher or author, or both. Some authors secure - clearness of outline by topics, references, and research questions. - Larned's "History of England" concludes every chapter in this way. - As an illustration we may quote from Chapter XVI, which narrates the - quarrel between King Charles and his people:-- - - 202. _Charles I._ - Topic. - 1. Charles's character and views. - References.--Bright, II, 608, 609; Green, 495; Montague, 118; - Ransome, 138, 139. - - 203. _Bad Faith in the Beginning of the Reign._ - Topic. - 1. Charles's marriage and broken pledges. - Reference.--Bright, II, 608, 614. - - 204. _The First Parliament of King Charles._ - Topics. - 1. Charles's designs and his treatment of Parliament. - 2. Attitude of Commons and their dissolution. - 3. The King's levies. - Reference.--Gardiner, II, 502, 503. - Research Questions.--(1) What were the legal and illegal sources - of the King's revenues? (Ransome, 151, 155). (2) What might be - said to constitute the private property of the crown? (3) What - contributed to make Charles's court expensive? (Traill, IV, 76). - (4) How would this need for money make for parliamentary - greatness?[25] - - In a similar way the remaining topics of this section of English - history are recorded, guiding the pupil in his outlines and his - readings. With suitable care on the part of the teacher to see that - the student fixes the outline firmly in mind, there is no danger of - becoming lost in a wilderness of words. At the same time the pupil's - mind is enriched from many noble sources, instead of being limited by - the presumably meagre resources of a single teacher. By this method - the child may enjoy the benefits of modern erudition, without at the - same time being harmed by dissipation of mental energy. - - Other authors reach the same ends by different means. Fiske's - "History of the United States," for example, concludes each chapter - with a topical outline in which cause and effect are emphasized. - At the close of Chapter X, on the "Causes and Beginning of the - Revolution," we find the following:-- - - - =Topics and Questions= - - 76. _Causes of Ill Feeling between England and her Colonies._ - 1. What was the European idea of a colony, and of its object? - 2. What erroneous notions about trade existed? - 3. What was the main object of the laws regulating trade, etc.? - - 77. _The Need of a Federal Union._ - 1. One difficulty in carrying on the French wars. - 2. An account of Franklin. - 3. Franklin's plan of union, etc. - - 78. _The Stamp Act Passed and Repealed._ - 1. The kind of government needed by the colonies. - 2. How Parliament sought to establish such a government. - 3. The nature of a stamp act, etc. - - 79. _Taxation in England._ - 1. How Pitt's friendship for America offended George III. - 2. The representation of the English people in Parliament. - 3. How the representation of the people is kept fair in the - United States. - 4. How it became unfair in England. - 5. Corrupt practices favored by this unfairness. - 6. The party of Old Whigs. - 7. The Tories, or the party of George III. - 8. The party of New Whigs and its aims. - 9. Why George III was so bitter against Pitt. - 10. The attitude of the King toward taxation in America. - 11. The people of England not our enemies, etc. - - At the close of these topics there follows a list of fifteen - "Suggestive Questions and Directions," with page references to - Fiske's "The American Revolution," Vol. I, the whole being concluded - by eighteen topics for collateral reading from "The American - Revolution," and from Cooke's "Virginia."[26] - - It is a significant fact that modern text-books for children are - being prepared by masters in the various departments of knowledge, - not a little thought being bestowed upon the highest utilization - of all modern instruments for arousing the intelligent interest of - the pupils. This being the case, it is idle to rely upon primitive - methods, however potent they may have been in the past, with pupils - who have learned to read fluently. - -[25] Larned, "History of England," Houghton, Mifflin & Co., p. 396. - -[26] Fiske, John, "A History of the United States for Schools," -Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, pp. 211-215. - -248. The general surveys that follow the detailed narratives have this -advantage for the pupil: he infers of his own accord, that in periods -of which not much is told, a great deal took place, nevertheless, -which the history or the teacher passes over in silence. In this way -the false impressions are prevented that would be produced by purely -compendious instruction, which indeed, at a later stage, becomes in a -measure unavoidable. - -249. (3) Mediaeval history derives no assistance from the study of the -ancient languages, nor is it closely related to present conditions; -there is difficulty in imparting to the presentation of it more -than the clearness obtainable through geography and chronology. But -more than this is requisite: the burden of mere memory work without -interest would become too great. The fundamental factors, Islamism, -Papacy, the Holy Roman Empire, Feudalism, must be explained and given -due prominence. Most of the facts down to Charlemagne may be made to -contribute additional touches to the panorama of the Great Migration. -With Charlemagne the chain of German history begins, and it will -usually be considered advisable to extend this chain to the end of -the Middle Ages, in order to have something to which synchronous -events may be linked later on. Yet some doubt arises as to the value -of such a plan. To be sure, the reigns of the Ottos, the Henrys, the -Hohenstaufen, together with intervening occurrences, form a tolerably -well-connected whole; but as early as the interregnum there is a -sad break, and although the historical narrative recovers, as it -were, with the stories of Rudolph Albrecht and Ludwig the Bavarian, -there is nothing in the names of succeeding leaders, from Carl IV -to Frederick III, that would make them proper starting-points and -connecting centres for the synchronism of the whole period in question. -It might be better, therefore, to stop with the excommunication of -Ludwig the Bavarian, with the assembly of the electors at Rhense, -and with the account of how the popes came to reside in Avignon. -Then--going back to Charlemagne--France, Italy, even England, may -be taken up, and greater completeness given to the history of the -crusades. Farther on, special attention might be called, in a -synchronistic way, to Burgundy and Switzerland, and to the changing -fortunes of the wars between England and France. French history may -then leave off with the reign of Charles VIII, and English history -with that of Henry VII, while German history, from Maximilian on, -is placed again in the foreground. The Hussite wars will be treated -as forerunners of the Reformation. Other events must be skilfully -inserted. Many modifications of grouping will have to be reserved for -subsequent repetitions. - -250. (4) In presenting modern history, the teacher will do well to -avail himself of the fact that modern history does not cover so long -reaches of time as mediaeval history does, and that it falls into -three sharply defined periods, the first of which ends with the -treaty of Westphalia, the second extends from this date to the French -Revolution, and the third, to the present. These periods should be -carefully distinguished, the leading events of each should be narrated -synchronistically, and a recital of the most essential historical facts -about each country should follow. Only after each has been handled -in this way, and the subject-matter presented has been thoroughly -impressed upon the memory by reviews, will it be well to pass on to a -somewhat fuller ethnographical account reaching back into the mediaeval -history of each country and extending forward to our own times. No -harm is done by going over the same ground again for the purpose of -amplifying that which before appeared in outline only. - -The chief point is, that no course of instruction which claims at all -to give completeness of culture can be regarded as concluded before it -has introduced the pupil to the pragmatic study of history, and has -taught him to look for causes and effects. This applies preeminently to -modern history, on account of its direct connection with the present; -but mediaeval and ancient history, too, have to be worked over once more -from this point of view. History should be the teacher of mankind; if -it does not become so, the blame rests largely with those who teach -history in schools. - -251. A well-compiled and well-proportioned brief history of inventions, -arts, and sciences should conclude the teaching of history, not only in -gymnasia, but also and especially in higher burgher schools, because -their courses of study are not supplemented by the university. - -Moreover, the whole course in history is properly accompanied by -illustrative poetical selections, which, although perhaps not produced -during the different epochs, yet stand in some relation to them; and -which in some measure, even if only by illustrating ages very far -apart, exhibit the vast differences in the freest activities of the -human mind. - - =Note.=--National history is not the same for each land, nor - everywhere of equal interest, and, owing to its connection with - larger events, often unintelligible to young minds when torn out - of its place and presented by itself. If its early introduction is - desired in order to kindle the heart, special pains must be taken - to select that which is intelligible and which appeals to boyhood. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=Mathematics and Nature Study= - - -252. Aptitude for mathematics is not rarer than aptitude for other -studies. That the contrary seems true, is owing to a belated and -slighted beginning. But that mathematicians are seldom inclined to -give as much time to children as they ought is only natural. The -elementary lessons in combination and geometry are neglected in favor -of arithmetic, and demonstration is attempted where no mathematical -imagination has been awakened. - -The first essential is attention to magnitudes, and their changes, -where they occur. Hence, counting, measuring, weighing, where possible; -where impossible, at least the estimating of magnitudes to determine, -however vaguely at first, the more and the less, the larger and the -smaller, the nearer and the farther. - -Special consideration should be given, on the one hand, to the number -of permutations, variations, and combinations; and, on the other hand, -to the quadratic and cubic relations, where similar planes and bodies -are determined by analogous lines. - - =Note.=--This is not the place for saying much that might be said - concerning that which renders early instruction in mathematics - unnecessarily difficult. But it may be remarked in brief that - some of these difficulties arise from the terminology, some - from the teacher's accustomed point of view, and some from the - multiplication of varying requirements. - - (1) The phraseology used forms an obstacle, even to the easiest - steps in fractions. The fraction 2/3, for example, is read - two-thirds, and, accordingly, 2/3 * 4/5, two-thirds times - four-fifths, instead of, multiplication by two and by four, and - division by three and by five. The fact is overlooked that the - third part of a whole includes the concept of this whole, which - cannot be a multiplier, but only a multiplicand. This difficulty - the pupils stumble over. The same applies to the mysterious word - _square root_, employed instead of the expression: one of the two - equal factors of a product. Matters grow even worse later on when - they hear of roots of equations. - - (2) Still more might be said in criticism of the erroneous - view according to which numbers are recorded as sums of units. - This is true as little as that sums are products; two does not - mean two things, but doubling, no matter whether that which is - doubled is one or many. The concept of a dozen chairs is not - made up of 12 percepts of single chairs; it comprises only two - mental products,--the general concept chair and the undivided - multiplication by 12. The concept one hundred men likewise contains - only two concepts,--the general concept man and the undivided - number 100. So, also, in such expression as six foot, seven pound, - in which language assists correct apprehension by the use of the - singular. Number concepts remain imperfect so long as they are - identified with series of numbers and recourse is had to successive - counting. - - (3) In arithmetical problems the difficulty attaching to the - apprehension of the things dealt with is confounded with that of - the solution itself. Principal and interest and time, velocity and - distance and time, etc., are matters which must be familiar to - the pupils, and hence must have been previously explained, long - before use can be made of them for practice. The pupil to whom - arithmetical concepts still give trouble should be given concrete - examples so familiar to him that out of them he can create over - again the mathematical notion and not be compelled to apply it to - them. - -253. The measuring of lines, angles, and arcs (for which many -children's games, constructive in tendency, may present the first -occasion) leads over to observation exercises dealing with both planes -and spheres. Skill in this direction having been attained, frequent -application must be made of it, or else, like every other acquirement, -it will be lost again. Every plan of a building, every map every -astronomical chart, may afford opportunities for practice. - -These observation exercises are to be organized in such a manner that -upon the completion of mensuration the way is fully prepared for -trigonometry, provided that besides the work in plain geometry, algebra -has been carried as far as equations of the second degree. - - Extended discussions as to the place and value of the ratio - idea in elementary arithmetic are found in "The Psychology of - Number," by McLellan & Dewey,[27] and in "The New Arithmetic," - by W. W. Speer.[28] The former work advocates early practice in - measuring with changeable units, claiming that the child should - early acquire the idea of number as the expression of the relation - that a measured somewhat bears to a chosen measurer, and making - counting a special case of measuring. Mr. Speer makes the ratio idea - still more prominent by furnishing the school with numerous sets of - blocks of various sizes and shapes with which to drill the pupils - into instantaneous recognition of number as the ratio between two - quantities. For an extended examination of these principles the - reader may well consult Dr. David Eugene Smith's able treatise on the - teaching of elementary mathematics.[29] - - =Note.=--It is now nearly forty years since the author wrote a - little book on the plan of Pestalozzi's A, B, C, of observation, - and he has often had it used by teachers since. Numerous - suggestions have been given by others under the title, "Study of - Forms." The main thing is training the eye in gauging distances and - angles, and combining such exercises with very simple computations. - The aim is not merely to secure keenness of observation for objects - of sense, but, preeminently, to awaken geometrical imagination and - to connect arithmetical thinking with it. Indeed, exercises of - this sort constitute the necessary, although commonly neglected, - preparation for mathematics. The helps made use of must be - concrete objects. Various things have been tried and cast aside - again; most convenient for the first steps are triangles made from - thin hard-wood boards. Of these only seventeen pairs are needed, - all of them right-angled triangles with one side equal. To find - these triangles, draw a circle with a radius of four inches, - and trace the tangents and secants at 5 deg., 10 deg., 15 deg., - 20 deg., etc., to 85 deg. The numerous combinations that can be - made will easily suggest themselves. The tangents and secants - must be actually measured by the pupils; from 45 deg. on, the - corresponding figures, at first not carried out beyond tenths, - should be noted, and, after some repetition, learned by heart. - On this basis very easy arithmetical examples may be devised for - the immediate purpose of gaining the lasting attention of the - pupils to matters so simple. Observations relating to the sphere - require a more complicated apparatus, namely, three movable great - circles of a globe. It would be well to have such means at hand - in teaching spherical trigonometry. Needless to say, of course, - observation exercises do not take the place of geometry, still less - of trigonometry, but prepare the ground for these sciences. When - the pupil reaches plain geometry, the wooden triangles are put - aside, and observation is subordinated to geometrical construction. - Meanwhile arithmetic is passing beyond exercises that deal merely - with proportions, to powers, roots, and logarithms. In fact, - without the concept of the square root, not even the Pythagorean - Theorem can be fully grasped. - - "Herbart's A, B, C, of Sense Perception," together with a number of - minor educational works, has been translated into English.[30] It - abounds in shrewd observations and ingenious devices, yet as a whole - it represents one of those side excursions, which, though delightful - to genius, is not especially useful to the world. To drill children - into the habit of resolving a landscape into a series of triangles, - may indeed be possible, but like any other schematization of the - universe, is too artificial to be desirable. Nevertheless, a limited - use of the devices mentioned in this section might tend to quicken an - otherwise torpid mind. - -[27] McLellan & Dewey, "The Psychology of Number," International -Education Series, D. Appleton & Co., New York, 1895. - -[28] Speer, W. W., "The New Arithmetic," Ginn & Co., Boston, 1896. - -[29] Smith, David Eugene, "The Teaching of Elementary Mathematics," -Ch. V, The Macmillan Co., New York, 1900. - -[30] Eckoff, William J., "Herbart's A, B, C, of Sense Perception," -International Education Series, D. Appleton & Co., New York, 1896. - -254. But now a subject comes up that, on account of the difficulties it -causes, calls for special consideration, namely, that of logarithms. -It is easy enough to explain their use, and to render the underlying -concept intelligible as far as necessary in practice--arithmetical -corresponding to geometrical series, the natural numbers being -conceived of as a geometrical series. But scientifically considered, -logarithms involve fractional and negative exponents, as also the -application of the Binomial Theorem. The latter, to be sure, is merely -an easy combinatory formula so far as integral positive exponents are -concerned, but, limited to these, is here of comparatively little use. - -Now, since trigonometry in its main theorems is independent of -logarithms, but is little applied without their aid, the question -arises whether beginners should necessarily be given a complete and -vigorously scientific course in logarithms, the highly beneficial -instruction in trigonometry being postponed until after the successful -completion of such a course, or whether the practical use of logarithms -is to be permitted before accurate insight into underlying principles -has been gained. - - =Note.=--The difficulty encountered in this subject--undoubtedly - one of those difficulties most keenly felt in teaching - mathematics--is after all only an illustration of the injurious - consequences of former sins of omission. If the geometrical - imagination were not neglected, there would be ample opportunity, - not only for impressing far more deeply the concept of proportion, - demanded even by elementary arithmetic, but also for developing - early the idea of function. The object lessons mentioned above - have already illustrated the dependence of tangents and secants - on angles. When these relations of dependence have become as - familiar as may be expected after a half year's instruction, sines - and cosines also are taken up. But it is not sufficient to leave - the matter here. Somewhat later, about the time when mensuration - is introduced, the squares and cubes of natural numbers must be - emphasized, and very soon committed to memory. Next it should be - pointed out how by finding the differences of squares and cubes - respectively, and then adding these differences, the original - numbers may be obtained again. A similar treatment should be - accorded to figurate numbers. - - Small wooden disks, like checker-pawns, commend themselves for the - purpose. By means of them various figures are found. The pupils - are asked to indicate how many disks they need to construct one - or the other kind of figures. A further step will be to show the - increase of squares and cubes corresponding to the increase of the - root, and to make this information serve as the preparation for - the elementary parts of differential calculus. Now the time has - come for passing on to the consideration of consecutive values of - the roots, which are found to differ by quantities of continuously - decreasing smallness as one progresses continuously through the - number system. And so, after the logarithms of 1, 10, 100, 1000, - etc., also of 1/10, 1/100, etc., have been gone over many times, - forward and backward, the conception is finally reached of the - interpolation of logarithms. - -255. In schools where practical aims predominate, logarithms should -be explained by a comparison of the arithmetical with the geometrical -series, and the practical application will immediately follow. But even -where recourse is had to Taylor's Theorem and the Binomial Theorem, -the gain to the beginner will not usually be very much greater. Not -as though these theorems, together with the elements of differential -calculus, could not be made clear; the real trouble lies in the fact -that much of what is comprehended is not likely to be retained in the -memory. The beginner, when he comes to the application, still has the -recollection of the proof and of his having understood it. Indeed, with -some assistance he would be able, perhaps, to again retrace step by -step the course of the demonstration. But he lacks perspective; and in -his application of logarithms it is of no consequence to him by what -method they have been calculated. - -What has been said here of logarithms may be applied more generally. -The value of rigid demonstrations is fully seen only when one has made -himself at home in the field of concepts to which they belong. - - It is customary in American schools to take up elementary algebra and - elementary geometry upon the completion of arithmetic, both algebra - and geometry being anticipated to some extent in the later stages of - arithmetic. The following paragraphs from the pen of David Eugene - Smith[31] indicate some of the advance in algebra since Herbart's - time:-- - - "The great revival of learning known as the Renaissance, in the - sixteenth century, saw algebra take a fresh start after several - centuries of complete stagnation. Tartaglia solved the cubic - equation, and a little later Ferrari solved the biquadratic. By the - close of the sixteenth century Vieta had put the keystone in the - arch of elementary algebra, the only material improvements for some - time to come being in the way of symbolism. For the next two hundred - years the struggle of algebraists was for a solution of the quintic - equation, or, more generally, for a general solution of an equation - of any degree. - - "The opening of the nineteenth century saw a few great additions to - the theory of algebra. The first was the positive proof that the - general equation of the fifth degree is insoluble by elementary - algebra, a proof due to Abel. The second was the mastery of the - number systems of algebra,--the complete understanding of the - negative, the imaginary, the incommensurable, the transcendent. - Other additions were in the line of the convergency of series, the - approximation of the real roots of numerical equations, the study of - determinants--all finding their way into the elements, together with - the theories of forms and groups, which must soon begin to influence - the earlier chapters of the subject. - - "This hasty glance at the development of the subject is sufficient - to show how it has been revolutionized in modern times. To-day it - is progressing as never before. The higher culture is beginning to - affect the lower; determinants have found place in the beginner's - course; graphic methods, objected to as innovations by some who - are ignorant of their prominence in the childhood of science, are - reasserting their rights; the 'imaginary' has become very real; - the inheritances of the algebra-teachers' guild are being examined - with critical eyes, and many an old problem and rule must soon go - by the board. It is valuable to a teacher to see what changes have - been wrought so that he may join in the movement to weed out the - bad, to cling to the good, and to reach up into the realm of modern - mathematics to see if, perchance, he cannot find that which is good - and usable and light-shedding for the elementary work." - - The true order of elementary mathematics, according to Dr. Smith, is - substantially as follows:-- - - 1. Elementary operations of arithmetic. - - 2. Simple mensuration, correlation with drawing, the models in - hand:-- - - Inductive geometry--the primitive form of the science. - - 3. Arithmetic of business and of science, using the simple equation - with one unknown quantity wherever it throws light upon the - subject. - - 4. Simple theory of numbers, the roots, series, logarithms. - - 5. Elementary algebra, including quadratic and radical equations. - - 6. Demonstrative plane geometry begun before the algebra is - completed and correlated with it. - - 7. Plane trigonometry and its elementary applications. - - 8. Solid geometry. Trigonometry. Advanced algebra, with the - elements of differentiation and integration. - - "The student should then take a rapid review of his elementary - mathematics, including a course in elementary analytic geometry and - the calculus. He would then be prepared to enter upon the study of - higher mathematics." - -[31] Compare Smith, David Eugene, "History of Modern Mathematics," in -Merriman & Woodworth's "Higher Mathematics," Wiley, New York, 1896. - -256. Demonstrations taking a roundabout way through remote auxiliary -concepts are a grave evil in instruction, be they ever so elegant. - -Such modes of presentation are rather to be selected as start from -simple elementary notions. For with these conviction does not depend -on the unfortunate condition requiring a comprehensive view of a -long series of preliminary propositions. Thus Taylor's Theorem can -be deduced from an interpolation formula, and this, in turn, from -the consideration of differences, for which nothing is needed beyond -addition, subtraction, and knowledge of the permutation of numbers. - - The following account of imaginary and complex numbers by - Dr. David Eugene Smith is so lucid that it is given at length:-- - - "The illustrations of the negative number are so numerous, so - simple, and so generally known from the common text-books that it is - unnecessary to dwell upon them.[32] Debt and credit, the scale on - the thermometer, longitude, latitude, the upward pull of a balloon - compared with the force of gravity, and the graphic illustration of - these upon horizontal and vertical lines--all these are familiar. - - "But the imaginary and complex numbers have been left enshrouded in - mystery in most text-books. The books say, _inter lineas_, 'Here is - sqrt(-1); it means nothing; you can't imagine it; the writer knows - nothing about it; let us have done with it, and go on.' Such is the - way in which the negative was treated in the early days of printed - algebras, but now such treatment would be condemned as inexcusable. - But there is really no more reason to-day for treating the imaginary - so unintelligently than for presenting the negative as was the - custom four hundred years ago. The graphic treatment of the complex - number is not to-day so difficult for the student about to take - up quadratics as is the presentation of the negative to one just - beginning algebra. - - "Briefly, the following outline will suffice to illustrate the - procedure for the complex number:-- - - 5 4 3 2 1 | 1 2 3 4 5 - |___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___| - | - - 0 + - - "1. Negative numbers may be represented in a direction opposite - to that of positive numbers, starting from an arbitrary point - called zero. Hence, when we leave the domain of positive numbers, - _direction_ enters. But there are infinitely many directions in a - plane besides those of the positive and negative numbers, and hence - there may be other numbers than these. - - "2. When we add positive and negative numbers we find some results - which seem strange to a beginner. For example, if we add +4 and -3 we - say the sum is 1, although the _length_ 1 is less than the length 4 - or the length -3; yet this does not trouble us because we have - considered something besides length, namely, direction; it is true, - however, that the sum of 4 and -3 is less than the absolute value - of either. This is seen to be so reasonable, however, from numerous - illustrations (as the combined weight of a balloon pulling up 3 lbs., - tied to a 4-lb. weight), that we come not to notice the strangeness - of it; graphically, we think of the sum as obtained by starting from - 0, going 4 in a positive direction, then 3 in a negative direction, - the _sum_ being _the distance from 0 to the stopping-place_. - - [Illustration: Graph of 1 multiplied by sqrt(-1) twice] - - "3. If we multiply 1 by -1, or by sqrt(-1) * sqrt(-1), or by sqrt(-1) - twice, we swing it counter-clockwise through 180 deg., and obtain -1; - hence, if we multiply it by sqrt(-1) once, we should swing it through - 90 deg. Hence we may graphically represent sqrt(-1) as the unit on - the perpendicular axis YY', and this gives illustration to - - sqrt(-1), 2[sqrt(-1)], 3[sqrt(-1)], ... -sqrt(-1), -2[sqrt(-1)], - -3[sqrt(-1)], - - or, more briefly, [+-]i, [+-]2i, [+-]3i, ... where i stands for - sqrt(-1). We therefore see that i is a symbol of quality (graphically - of direction), just as is + or -, and that -3 * 5i, i[sqrt(5)], etc., - are just as real as -3 * 5, sqrt(5), etc. It is impossible to look - out of a window -3 * 5 times as it is to look out -3 * 5i times; - strictly, one number is as 'imaginary' as the other, although the - term has come by custom to apply to one and not to the other. - - "4. The complex number 3 + 2i is now readily understood. Just as - 3 + (-2) is graphically represented by starting from an arbitrary - zero, passing 3 units in a positive direction (say to the right), - then 2 units in the opposite direction, calling the sum the - distance from 0 to the stopping-point, so 3 + 2i may be represented - graphically. Starting from 0, pass in the positive direction (to - the right in the figure) 3 units, then in the i direction 2 units, - calling the sum the distance from 0 to the stopping-place. - - [Illustration: Graphical representation of 3 + 2i as the hypotenuse - of a right-angled triangle with sides of 3 and 2i units] - - "Of course the question will arise as to the hypotenuse being the - sum of the two sides of the right-angled triangle. But the case is - parallel to that mentioned in paragraph 2; it is not the sum of - the _absolute values_, any more than is 1 the sum of the absolute - values of 4 and -3; it is the sum when we define addition for numbers - involving direction as well as length. - - "A simple illustration from the parallelogram of forces is often used - to advantage. - - [Illustration: Parallelogram of two forces +3 and +2i with - resultant OP] - - "Suppose a force pulling 3 lbs. to the right (+3 lbs.) and another - pulling 2 lbs. upwards (+2i lbs.); required the resultant of the two. - It is evident that this is OP, _i.e._, OP = 3 + 2i. - - "This elementary introduction to the subject of complex numbers shows - that the 'imaginary' element is easily removed, and that students - about to begin quadratics are able to get at least an intimation of - the subject. This is not the place for any adequate treatment of - these numbers: such treatment is easily accessible. It is hoped that - enough has been presented to render it impossible for any reader - to be content with the absolutely meaningless and unjustifiable - treatment found in many text-books."[33] - -[32] See Beman & Smith's "Elements of Algebra," p. 17. - -[33] For an elementary presentation of the subject, see Beman and -Smith's "Elements of Algebra," Boston, 1900. For a history of the -subject, see Beman and Smith's translation of Fink's "History of -Mathematics," Chicago, 1900, or Professor Beman's Vice-Presidential -Address before the American Association for the Advancement of Science, -1898, or the author's "History of Modern Mathematics," already -mentioned. - -257. The pedagogical value of mathematical instruction, as a whole, -depends chiefly on the extent to which it enters into and acts on -the pupil's whole field of thought and knowledge. From this truth -it follows, to begin with, that mere presentation does not suffice; -the aim must be rather to enlist the self-activity of the pupil. -Mathematical exercises are essential. Pupils must realize how much -they can do by means of mathematics. From time to time written work in -mathematics should be assigned; only the tasks set must be sufficiently -easy. More should not be demanded and insisted on than pupils can -comfortably accomplish. Some are attracted early by pure mathematics, -especially where geometry and arithmetic are properly combined. But a -surer road to good results is applied mathematics, provided only the -application is made to an object in which interest has already been -aroused in other ways. - -But the pupils ought not to be detained too long over a narrow round of -mathematical problems; there must also be progress in the presentation -of the theory. Were the only requisite to stimulate self-activity, -the elementary principles might very easily suffice for countless -examples affording the pupil the pleasure of increasing facility, and -even the delight arising from inventions of his own, without giving -him any conception of the greatness of the science. Many problems may -be compared to witty conceits, which may be welcome enough in the -right place, but which should not encroach on the time for work. There -ought to be no lingering over things that with advancing study solve -themselves, merely for the sake of performing feats of ingenuity. -Incomparably more important than mere practice examples is familiarity -with the facts of nature, and such familiarity renders all the better -service to mathematics if combined with technical knowledge. - -258. Even young children may very well busy themselves with picture -books illustrating zoology, and later with analyses of plants which -they have gathered. If early accustomed to this, they will, with some -guidance, readily go on by themselves. At a later time they are taught -to observe the external characteristics of minerals. The continuation -of the study of zoology is beset with some difficulties on account of -the element of sex. - - Though industriously debated, there is no field of education more - undecided both as to matter and method than nature work in the - grades. Some scientists would teach large amounts of well-classified - knowledge; others are content when they have secured a hospitable - frame of mind toward nature. If a love for flowers and birds can be - cultivated in children, the latter class are satisfied that the best - result has been attained. Thus a discussion arises as to which is the - more valuable, _attitude_ or _knowledge_. - - It is feared by some that any attempt to teach real science, even - of an elementary kind, will result in a paralysis of permanent - scientific interest. To this it is replied that a sentimental regard - for aesthetic aspects of nature insures little or no true scientific - interest. - - Both sides are, in large measure, wrong; for, though apparently - antagonistic in their aims, they make merely a different application - of a common principle, which, if not wholly erroneous, is at least - inadequate. Both parties assume that the end to be attained in nature - study is something only remotely related to the pupil's practical - life. One would present nature for its own sake as scientific - knowledge; the other would offer it for its own sake as a source of - aesthetic or other feeling. The scientist often assumes that to a - pupil a scientific fact or law is its own excuse for being. He thinks - there must be a natural, spontaneous response to such a fact or law - in the breast of every properly constituted child, so that, to imbue - the mind with the scientific spirit, it is only necessary to expose - it to scientific fact. - - Perhaps, unfortunately for the normal child, this view is somewhat - encouraged by the biographies of scientific geniuses. On the other - hand, those who hold the poetic view of nature assume that there must - be a native response to natural beauties in every child; so that - the true method is to expose him to nature's beauty, when rapture is - sure to follow. Unfortunately again for the pupil, this view is also - encouraged by the influence of the nature poets. The result is that - natural science is presented as an end in itself--in the one case as - scientific knowledge, in the other as the lovable in nature. - - While it may be admitted that a few children will respond now to - the one stimulus, now to the other, the great mass are not thrilled - with rapture at nature's beauty, nor are they fettered by scientific - interest in her laws. To become an object of growing interest to - children, nature must have a better basis than natural childish - delight in the novel, or reverence for scientific law. The first of - these is evanescent, the second feeble. - - We may agree with the scientist as with the poet, that both science - and poetic appreciation are desirable ends, but they cannot be - imparted to the childish mind by didactic fiat. - - If there is one service greater than another that Herbart has - rendered to education, it is in bringing clearly to our consciousness - the supreme importance of the principle of apperception, or mental - assimilation, as a working basis for educative processes. So long - as a fact or a principle or system of knowledge stands as an end - in itself, just so long is it a thing apart from the real mental - life of the child. Even a formally correct method of presentation, - should it even appeal at once to all 'six' classes of interest, will - fail to create more than a factitious mental enthusiasm. It is like - conversation that is 'made' interesting; it may suffice to lighten a - tedious hour, but it awakens no vital response. When, however, the - natural love of novelty or inborn response to the true is reinforced - by a sense of warm personal relationship, when the facts of forest, - or plain, or mine, or animal life flood the mind with unexpected and - significant revelations concerning either the present or the past in - close personal touch with the learner, then instruction rests upon - an apperceptive basis. Abstractions that before were pale, beauties - that were cold, now receive color and warmth because they get a new - subjective valuation that before was impossible. - - A sedate sheep nibbling grass or resting in the shade, a skipping - lamb gambolling on the green, are suitable objects of nature study. - Their pelts, their hoofs, their horns, their wool, are worthy of - note as scientific facts. A diluted interest may even be added by - recitation of the nursery rhymes about "Little Bo-Peep" and "Mary had - a Little Lamb." But these are devices for the feeble-minded. - - If the teacher can reveal to the pupil the function of wool in making - garments for the race, and can lead him to repeat the processes - by which, from time immemorial, the wool has been spun into yarn - and woven into cloth; if, at the same time, the influence of this - industry upon the home life, both of men and women, can be shown, the - study of the sheep becomes worthy the attention even of a boy who - can play foot-ball or of a girl who can cook. The literature of the - sheep is no longer infantile or fatuous. We have a gamut reaching - from Penelope to Priscilla. In the words of Professor Dewey: "The - child who is interested in the way in which men lived, the tools - they had to do with, the transformation of life that arose from the - power and leisure thus gained, is eager to repeat like processes - in his own action; to make utensils, to reproduce processes, to - rehandle materials. Since he understands their problems and their - successes only by seeing what obstacles and what resources they had - from nature, the child is interested in field and forest, ocean and - mountain, plant and animal.... The interest in history gives a more - human coloring, a wider significance, to his own study of nature."[34] - - The conclusion arising from this argument is that nature study - as an end in itself, or a thing apart from the real or imagined - experiences of the pupil, is but a faint reflection of what it may - become under a more rational treatment. In order of time, nature - study in the earliest grades may indeed rest upon the mere delight - of the childish mind in the new, the strange, the beautiful, and - especially in the motion of live creatures, and may be reinforced - by childish literature. When boyhood and girlhood begin, however, - then the industrial motive, first in the home environment, then of - primitive times, becomes the chief reliance for an abiding interest. - In the reproduction of primitive processes, there is of necessity - a historical element. When nature has attained a firm apperceptive - basis through imitation of primitive industrial processes, and has - obtained a historical background, then it may properly be further - reinforced by literary reference. The poetic value of nature will now - appeal to the mind with a potency that springs from inner life and - experience; scientific law will now have some chance of appealing to - the mind with something of the same reverence that Kant besought for - the moral law. The true order of appeal in nature study is therefore - as follows: For infancy, natural curiosity and delight in the - movements of living creatures; for the age of boyhood and girlhood, - imitation, real or imaginary, of processes depending upon natural - objects and forces, together with historical and literary reference; - secondarily, nature work may also appeal to youthful interest in - natural law or beauty. - -[34] Dewey, John, "The Aim of History in Elementary Education," -_Elementary School Record_, November, 1900, University of Chicago -Press. - -259. With the foregoing should be conjoined much attention to external -nature, to the changes corresponding to the seasons, and to means of -intercommunication. - -Under this head belongs, on the one hand, observation of the heavenly -bodies,--where sun and moon rise, how the latter waxes and wanes, where -the north star is found, and what arcs are described by the brighter -stars and the most conspicuous constellations. - -Here belongs, on the other hand, technological knowledge, acquired -partly through direct observation, partly through lessons in -descriptive physical science. Technology ought not to be considered -merely from the side of the so-called material interests. It furnishes -very important connecting links between the apprehension of the facts -of nature and human purposes. Every growing boy and youth should learn -to handle the ordinary tools of the carpenter as well as rule and -compasses. Mechanical skill would often prove far more useful than -gymnastic exercises. The former benefits the mind, the latter benefit -the body. With burgher schools should go manual training-schools, -which does not mean that the latter must necessarily be trade schools. -Finally, every human being ought to learn how to use his hands. The -hand has a place of honor beside language in elevating mankind above -the brute. - -The foregoing store of information also enters into the study of -geography; how, will appear in the next chapter. - - The soundness of the foregoing remarks is witnessed by the rapid - development of manual training-schools in the last decade, and the - almost universal desire, if not practice, of providing considerable - amounts of manual training for the pupils of the grammar grades. - The girls usually have some form of sewing and cooking, while the - boys have sloyd or other similar tool work in wood. The _rationale_ - of requiring girls to do carpenter work instead of the forms of - manual exercise that especially pertain to their sex is not yet - satisfactorily established. - -260. On the observation of the heavenly bodies is based popular -astronomy, which provides a test as to whether the mathematical -imagination has been properly cultivated. - -261. Elementary statics and mechanics will serve as an early -introduction to physics, which combines with the easiest portions -of chemistry. Long before physics is formally presented, it must be -foreshadowed by many things stimulating the attention. Notice is -directed to clocks, mills, the most familiar phenomena of atmospheric -pressure, to electrical and magnetic toys, etc. In burgher schools, -at least, so much must be said about buildings and machines as is -necessary to incite to further study in the future. The same holds for -the fundamental facts of physiology. - -262. As often as a new topic for study is introduced, it is important -to give prominence to some of the salient facts, and these must be -accurately memorized. Moreover, pupils need to have practice in exact -description. Where practicable, these descriptions are corrected by -actually looking at the objects themselves. - -Hasty and superficial observation of objects presented for inspection -always calls for severe criticism; else collections and experiments -become valueless. Nor should objects be shown too lavishly; pupils must -often be told beforehand what they will have to look for. Frequently -it may serve the purpose to employ successively good descriptions, -pictures, and direct observation. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=Geography= - - -263. As to geography, at least two courses may be distinguished. One of -these is analytic and begins with the pupil's immediate neighborhood, -the topography of the place, while the other starts with the globe. -Here only the former will be discussed, as the latter can be had -directly from good text-books. - - =Note.=--The usual method of taking the globe as the point of - departure would be less open to criticism, if, in order to render - the conception of the earth's sphericity more intelligible, - attention were directed to the shape of the moon, the observation - being carried on occasionally with the aid of a telescope. But - even if this is done, it still remains a blunder to substitute the - faint and vague idea of a huge ball for direct perception. Equally - injudicious is the plan of beginning with Portugal and Spain. - That spot where pupils and teacher are at the moment is the point - from which the pupils must take their bearings, and in thought - extend their horizon. It will never do to pass over the natural - starting-points provided by sense-perception. - - Had the note to this section been properly heeded, we should not have - had to wait for fifty years after Herbart's death before witnessing - the present rational methods of applying geographical science to - elementary education. It is the proud boast of the modern elementary - geography that it begins with a study of the pupil's actual - environment. The term _home geography_ has now become a familiar one. - It signifies that the pupil is taught to observe the geographical - elements as they exist in his own neighborhood. He studies hills, - watercourses, soil, woods, lakes, together with the industrial - phenomena that come within the reach of his investigation. Upon - this primary sense-basis he rears the structure of his geographical - knowledge. - -264. Geography is an associating science, and use must be made of -the opportunities it offers for binding together a variety of facts, -none of which should be allowed to remain isolated in the mind of the -learner. It is not the mathematical portion, supplemented and made -interesting by popular astronomy, that serves as the first connecting -link between mathematics and history (second course); even the -rudiments of geography may, on the basis of observation exercises, -furnish practice in the determination of triangles which occur on the -first maps used, although this step is not always necessary when once -some skill has been acquired in singling out features worthy of note. -(The determination of position by latitude and longitude is, for the -first course, as irrational as the action of a traveller in Germany -or France would be if he set about to put together the picture of the -places where he expects to remain, with the aid of their relation to -the equator and the first meridian.) - -Physical geography presupposes some knowledge of nature, and furnishes -the occasion for enriching that knowledge. Political geography -designates the manner in which man inhabits and uses the earth's -surface. It is the pedagogical aim of instruction in geography to -associate all this. - -265. The teacher must cultivate the art of narration; his accounts must -resemble those of a traveller. But the narrative should conflict with -the determination of the relative position of places (by grouping them -about one principal place, and in the case of more than one by the use -of triangles) as little as, in teaching history, the story of events -should conflict with the scheme of chronology. The two go together. The -narrative is to present a clear picture, and to this end requires the -support of a few fixed points in space. On the other hand, these points -should not remain isolated; they are to be connected by the lines of -the picture. - -266. It is not a matter of indifference how many unfamiliar names are -mentioned in one minute or hour. Nor is it immaterial whether they -are uttered before or after perception of the picture which the map -presents. The first requisite is that every map placed before the -pupils be conceived of as a country; three, at most four, names of -rivers, and the names of a few mountains are sufficient; completeness -is out of place here. The few names given provide ample opportunity -for fixing the position of notable points, both with reference to one -another and to the boundary lines of the country. - -Due prominence having been given to these geographical features, they -should then be connected, say with the aid of a blackboard, on which -they are roughly sketched one by one, and properly joined together -afterward. In the case of the sources and outlets of rivers, this may -be done by a line to indicate the course. If now the pupils have made -good previous use of their eyes, especially if they have noticed the -fall of brooks and rivers, and have observed the slope of the ground -in a particular region,--if they have not, the deficiency must be made -good first of all,--it will not be too early to pass on to a general -description of the appearance which the country under consideration -would present to a traveller. And now the time has come for a somewhat -fuller mention of the names of rivers and mountains, but these names -must at once be gone over several times by the pupils. Doing so will -reveal whether the list of new names has been made too long; it is -often largely due to carelessness in this respect, if the study of -geography proves barren or onerous. Next in order follow detailed -descriptions of particular wonders of nature, where there are such. -Attention is then given to some of the principal cities, mention -being made of the number of inhabitants. Here the determination of -relative location comes in again, and for this the self-activity of the -pupils is indispensable. Finally, human industry and art, so far as -they relate to the products of the country, together with the little -of political organization that pupils can grasp. The names of the -provinces should ordinarily be omitted from the first course. - - This section is suggestive of the old geography of the last half - century,--location, names, maps, the barren details of the science. - Geography is something richer than all this. The old geography was - political in the foregoing sense. The first break was in making it - physiographical, the last in making it social. Names as such are - nothing, and physical facts little more, but both become of value - as soon as they are brought into relation to man,--his life, his - work, his recreation. Geography is not essentially the location of - places, nor is it physiography, but it is a study of the essential - facts concerning the surface of the earth as they are related to man - himself; it is, in short, _human_ in the fullest sense. It gives a - concrete explanation of civilization; it explains the production, - the exchange, and, to some extent, the consumption of goods. It - contrasts countries, not so much by square miles, as by the number - of miles of railroads they possess. (The most momentous fact of - modern civilization is the railroad. Twelve billions of dollars are - invested in it in the United States alone. In view of these facts, - what shall be said of those recent geographies that keep the children - poring over primitive maps for years--maps without a suggestion of a - railroad in them? This is an illustration of how prone education is - to lag behind the progress of society.) - -267. The reviews, which should be frequent, must steadily work toward -a growing firmness of association between names and places. Each name -is to be referred to the place it designates; hence the sequence of -names must often be reversed, and the map looked over in all directions -and from all points of view. How far to go is determined in accordance -with individual capacity. From some, only what is absolutely essential -can be demanded; from others, much more, in order that they may exert -themselves properly. - -268. In the midst of other studies on which greater stress is laid, -geography is as a rule slighted by pupils and sometimes even by -teachers. This attitude merits severe criticism. Instruction in -geography may be reduced to a minimum, the first course even requires -this, but it should not be disparaged. With many pupils, geography -is the first study which gives them the consciousness that they can -learn as they are expected to learn. With all pupils, geography must -connect the remaining studies and must keep them connected. Without -it everything remains unstable. Historical events lack places and -distances; products of nature are without the regions where they are -found; popular astronomy, which is called upon so often to prevent -and dispel erroneous notions, is deprived of its very basis, and the -geometrical imagination of one of its most important incentives. If the -facts of knowledge are allowed to fall asunder in this way, instruction -endangers the whole of education. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -=The Mother-tongue= - - -269. There would be less controversy about language teaching if -existing differences in conditions were given proper attention. - -The most general distinction to make is that between understanding and -speaking. The distance between the two is a given factor at the time -when regular instruction begins. It is very great in some cases, and, -again, slight in others, according to individual aptitude and early -surroundings. - -270. First of all, one's language was acquired by hearing it spoken, by -receiving it from others, by imitation; it was refined or vulgar; it -was perceived accurately or indistinctly; it was imitated by organs, -good, bad, or indifferent. Little by little the imperfections of the -earliest stage are outgrown, where cultured persons set a daily example -and insist on correctness of speech. Sometimes, however, it takes years -to bring about such a result. - -271. Another factor, and one deeply rooted in individual temperament, -is the stronger or weaker impulse toward expression through language. -This fact elevates the language of each one above mere imitation; its -improvement must start from the thoughts which it seeks to express. -Striking progress of this kind often occurs during adolescence. - - The differences noted in this and the two preceding sections are - psychological, hence common to German and American children. The - problem of teaching American children their mother-tongue, assumed to - be English, is both harder and easier than to teach German to German - children. It is easier in that English is mostly uninflected, hence - unencumbered by nice distinctions in grammatical form. This same - fact, on the other hand, causes didactic difficulties, since most - teachers are at a loss as to what definite body of knowledge they - should or can impart that will train the child into a mastery of good - English speech. The last twenty years have seen a large number of - experiments on the part of authors in the effort to present a body of - information and exercises calculated to secure a good training in the - mother-tongue. These efforts have met with but partial success, owing - to the inherent difficulties of the subject. Many who can teach a - foreign language, where there is a movable fulcrum of difficulties to - be overcome, such as those found in inflection, or in the meaning of - foreign words, fail when confronted by a language that is practically - uninflected, and in which the words are easily understood. - - The old recourse was technical grammar. But this is an analytical - study, calculated to lead to apprehension of subtle meanings, rather - than to an instinct for correct form. Furthermore, the grammar cannot - be successfully studied until after the habits of speech are fairly - fixed. For these reasons, it bears much the same relation to living - speech that formal logic does to real thinking. Grammar makes the - mind keen to detect formal errors of speech, just as logic trains - one to detect fallacies in reasoning. - - The first important instrument for securing good English in the - early primary grades is narration by the teacher and repetition - by the children. This means, potent enough to form the speech of - any child whether from the slums or from the homes of those who - know no English, is rarely utilized up to the full measure of its - efficiency. Teachers are filled with the prepossession that they - must enable their pupils to write good English, forgetting that if - the mind is habituated to _think_ in good English first, the problem - of writing it is well-nigh solved. The requisites for successful - oral training in the mother-tongue are first, the selection of a - body of interesting and appropriate literature, and second, skill in - narration by the teacher. Given these two things, and we have the - first in great abundance, and every child will be able in a year - to give extended and correct speech within the range of his sphere - of thought to an almost unlimited extent. His tenacious memory for - forms frequently heard, together with his delight in repeating almost - word for word stories told in his presence, will produce astonishing - facility in correct speech. As much of this may be written as seems - best, but it is probable that there would not be great loss if a - child were not called upon to write a 'composition' before he is ten - or twelve years old. Could we be sure he would go through the high - school, formal writing might be postponed until he enters it. Not - much is ever gained by attempts to produce fruit before its natural - period for appearing. - - Upon the basis of this training in correct oral speech, the children - may begin, when nine or ten years of age, to have systematic language - lessons, which should be calculated to produce two results: first, a - facile use of the pen in recording thought, special caution being - given not to weary the mind and body too much by unduly extending - the length of the written exercises; second, an inductive approach, - through brief written exercises, toward the classifications and - distinctions of technical grammar. To be of use, this latter - requirement should be clearly understood. The method of approach - is purely synthetic. It consists in devices to enable the pupil - repeatedly to use a given construction, say a relative pronoun, until - the name and construction seem natural from use alone.[35] - - At the age of thirteen or fourteen the analytical study of grammar - should be begun. The essential thing here is that the pupil should - connect _words_ with the _ideas_ they express, and _sentences_ with - the _thoughts_ that give rise to them.[36] Seeing mental distinctions - clearly, he has small difficulty in their written or oral expression. - -[35] For extended illustration of this point, see the "Annotator's -Language Lessons," the Werner School Book Co., New York, Boston, and -Chicago. - -[36] This position is best exemplified by Mr. George P. Brown in his -"Essentials of English Grammar," the Werner School Book Co., New York, -Boston, and Chicago. - -272. Now such facts might seem to point to the conclusion that no -special periods of instruction are needed for the mother-tongue, or -at least not for language lessons alone. On the one hand, it might be -urged that cultured teachers will improve the language of their pupils -by their mere example, and by the occasional corrections which will of -course be necessary; while, on the other hand, the gradual progress of -mental development will shape the means of expression from within, to -the natural limits of individual capacity. But before accepting the -view here given, we need to remind ourselves, in the first place, that -for a long time the educated teacher is only imperfectly understood by -the uneducated listener, and that instruction is very much impeded if -each unusual turn of expression necessitates an inquiry as to whether -its meaning is clear. - -273. But this is not all. Language is also to be read and written. -Hence, it becomes a standing object for consideration, and, to one -whose knowledge of it is deficient, a source of embarrassment. -Accordingly, the first thing for the teacher to do is to show -analytically, on the basis of what has been read or written, how -the meaning would be lost or altered if either single words were -interchanged, or the inflectional endings (especially in German) were -incorrectly chosen. That the synthesis of sentences should follow next, -advancing step by step toward greater complexity, especially by means -of various conjunctions, may be assumed to be well understood. - -274. Now if all experienced equal difficulty in their reading and -writing, the language lessons designed as a remedy would commend -themselves in all cases, and might fittingly be carried to the same -extent everywhere. - -But here the widest divergence appears. Accordingly, where many are -being taught together, the teacher will seek to connect language work -with other subjects. Thus, in the course of the same recitation, -analytic instruction may be directed to the language side for some -pupils, while for others it may be given a far wider scope. Moreover, -the accompanying written exercises may have a corresponding diversity. - -275. The work of a recitation period will be further diversified by the -introduction of exercises in reading aloud, and in oral reproduction. -But never will it be possible to raise all pupils to the same plane of -proficiency. Here, above all, the determining power of individuality -must be acknowledged. - -276. For older boys and young men, the work in the mother-tongue will -consist partly in the study of excellent examples of the various kinds -of poetry and oratory, partly in the writing of essays. Such study -will prove the more profitable, the more perfect the models, the more -suitably they are adapted to the stage of culture already attained -by the student, and the more scrupulously the teacher refrains from -forcing upon him a literary taste not congenial to his nature. The -least promising of all written exercises are those in letter-writing. -Confidential letters every one can write, each in his own way. Best of -all are written exercises with a definite and rich store of thought -to draw from and admitting of various forms of treatment. Several may -then emulate each other in handling the same theme, and the process of -correcting will awaken greater interest in consequence. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -=Greek and Latin= - - -277. As is well known, the exposition of grammatical distinctions -and of the many turns of expression whereby language may become an -adequate symbolization of thought, gains very materially in clearness -by a comparison of the mother-tongue with Latin and Greek. Even with -boys not more than eight years old the attempt may be made to utilize -this advantage in the teaching of English, whether it has been finally -decided, or not, that they are to take the regular classical course. -Some boys learn, without much trouble, enough of Latin inflections to -enable them soon to translate short sentences from the mother-tongue -into Latin, and _vice versa_. - - The present plan in Germany is to have boys in the gymnasia begin the - study of Latin at the age of ten. The study is continued for a period - of nine years. Greek is begun three years later and continued for - six years. In the United States the prevailing plan is to postpone - the study of Latin until the pupil enters the high school at the age - of fourteen or fifteen. Good private schools and many city grammar - schools permit children to begin when some two years younger than - this. The Report on College Entrance Requirements made before the - National Educational Association in 1899 suggested the propriety - of extending the influence of the high school over the two highest - grades of the grammar school, making in effect a six-year high school - course. For students who expect to enter college or technical schools - this plan offers great advantages, since it permits the desirable - preparation to be distributed over six years instead of being - concentrated into four. - -278. This experiment will not, however, be long continued; since, with -the large majority of pupils, the difficulties accumulate so rapidly as -to lead unavoidably to the admission that the burden cannot be assumed -merely for the sake of incidental advantages. Moreover, the customary -view, handed down from the time of the Reformation, of the relation of -the classical languages to the sciences, and to the needs of the age, -is undergoing a change more and more apparent from decade to decade. -The labor implied in the study of the ancient languages now pays only -where talent combines with the earnest purpose to achieve the most -complete scholarship. - - This remark is prophetic of the enormous increase of instruction - in the sciences since Herbart's day, yet Latin has also enjoyed a - phenomenal increase in popularity in American schools. According to - the Report of the National Commissioner of Education the increase of - enrollment in high schools for the years between 1890 and 1898 was - 84 per cent, while the increase in the number of students pursuing - Latin was 174 per cent.[37] This surprising growth in the number - pursuing an ancient language can hardly be accounted for by increased - stringency in college entrance requirements in Latin, but must rather - be ascribed to a growing conviction among the people that the study - is indispensable in secondary education. That this must be the case - is seen by the attendant circumstances. In the first place, Latin has - become an elective in nearly all high schools; in the next place, - many rich equivalents are offered, both in science and in modern - languages; and finally our system of universal elementary education - has sent large classes of persons into the secondary schools that - have never previously been there. Yet the number of students electing - this study grows by leaps and bounds. - - =Note.=--(1) The assertion is often heard that the ancient - languages supply a permanent standard by which to judge of the - progress and the decay of modern languages; also that the ancient - classics must be regarded as furnishing the models for purity and - beauty in style. These and similar contentions are undeniably - correct, and carry the greatest weight, but they are unpedagogical. - They embody the absolute requirement, but not that which younger - pupils need for _their_ culture; and the large majority of those - who are fitting themselves for official positions cannot afford to - make themselves guardians of language and style. They must take - language as it is, and acquire the manner of expression which is - adapted to the world of affairs. Those higher cares belong to - authors, but no one is educated for authorship. - - (2) It is a familiar notion that the difficulty would diminish if - the ancient languages were begun later, that then the ability to - learn would prove greater. On the contrary, the older the pupil the - stronger the tendency of his thought-mass toward exclusion. Memory - work must be introduced early, especially where its usefulness - depends wholly on the acquisition of facility. It is essential to - begin early in order to make it possible to proceed slowly and to - avoid unpedagogical pressure. Four hours a week of Latin do not - hurt a healthy, bright boy, provided his other tasks are arranged - with pedagogical correctness. To put modern languages first would - be to put the cart before the horse. Useful enough, however, are - single French and English expressions relating to everyday life. - They will be of service in acquiring the pronunciation; but a few - phrases do not constitute the teaching of a language. - -[37] Bennett and Bristol, "The Teaching of Latin and Greek," Longmans, -Green & Co., New York, 1900. - -279. The manner of teaching the ancient languages, where they are -regarded as a matter of necessity or conventionality, no account being -taken of pedagogical considerations, need not be discussed here. It -must rather be admitted at once that no pedagogical means whatever -exist, whereby those who live with their interests strictly confined -to the present could be brought to acquire, with genuine sympathy, the -content of the works of antiquity. - - American teachers in estimating the value of Latin for the high - school student lay more stress upon training in the mastery of the - mother-tongue than upon the literary contents of the classical - writings. Professor Bennett in his treatment of "The Teaching of - Latin in the Secondary School,"[38] places in strong light the - splendid linguistic training a youth undergoes when taught by a good - teacher of this subject. In Germany, since Herbart's time, Professor - Russell tells us that the teaching of Latin has fluctuated between - two aims--"between that view which makes the classics a purely formal - discipline, and that other view which bases the worth of such a - study on the acquisition of humanistic culture, in contact with 'the - best thoughts of the best men of antiquity.' In the one case it is - considered of equal value as a means of preparation for all trades - and professions dependent on intellectual acumen; in the other case - it is of worth only for those who can practically apply the technical - knowledge thereby acquired, or may have sufficient leisure to enjoy - its aesthetic qualities. It is a question of making the ancient - literature a means to an end or an end in itself."[39] - - The dogma of formal discipline as a leading aim in education has - nowhere been more discredited than among Herbartian writers. A - judicious estimate of its truth and error is made by Professor - Hinsdale.[40] His main conclusions are as follows:-- - - 1. The degree to which power generated by education is general - depends upon the extent to which it energizes the mind, and - particularly the extent to which it overflows into congruent channels. - - 2. Such power is far more special than general; it is only in a - limited sense that we can be said to have a store of mobilized mental - power. - - 3. No one kind of mental exercise--no few kinds--can develop the - whole mind. - - 4. No study, no single group of studies, contains within itself the - possibilities of a whole education. - - On the other hand, American students rarely study classics long - enough to acquire much facility in mastering the literary contents of - the ancient writers. If, to considerable extent, the idea of formal - discipline is a delusive one, and the idea of a broad, humanistic - culture is an illusion of the American schoolmaster, we must justify - the study of Latin upon other grounds. The linguistic advantages - arising from it are obvious and decided. Among these stands first the - mastery of the mother-tongue, first through the comparative study - rendered necessary by translation, then by study of the roots of a - large part of the English vocabulary, and more remotely by the light - thrown by Latin upon history and institutional life. - - There is an advantage in Latin of great, though usually unmentioned, - importance, and that is its peculiar usefulness as an educational - instrument, in that it presents to the pupil a graduated scale of - surmountable difficulties. In this respect it is surpassed only by - mathematics. The difference between a good and a poor educational - instrument lies in this: a study offering few surmountable obstacles - is a poor educational instrument, for the pupil can find no fulcrum - upon which to use his mental powers. Thus he may stare at a natural - object when directed to observe its characteristics, but he finds - it hard to think when no thought problem is presented to him. But a - study that involves thought problems of a definite and solvable kind - is a good educational instrument, for the pupil finds something to - move and a fulcrum upon which he may exert his power. Translation - from an ancient language exercises the working powers of a student up - to their highest efficiency, for the translation of ten sentences may - easily provide the hardest kind of work for an hour; if ten lines do - not, then more lines will. When a foreign language ceases to offer - such surmountable difficulties, we leave it for something else that - does offer them. - -[38] Bennett and Bristol, "The Teaching of Latin and Greek," pp. 11-32, -Longmans, Green & Co., New York, 1900. - -[39] Russell, "German Higher Schools," Longmans, Green & Co., New York, -1899. - -[40] Hinsdale, "Studies in Education," pp. 46-61, Werner School Book -Co., Chicago, 1896. - -280. Pedagogically considered, every difference in the degree of vivid -realization of antiquity, in the degree of its correlation with -other main departments of knowledge, and in the extent to which a -disagreeable aftertaste of school-day drudgery is prevented, determines -the greater or smaller value to be ascribed to the knowledge acquired. -If the same realization could be secured without the ancient languages -and without the potency of early impressions, then the studies -mentioned in preceding chapters, which outline the work of burgher -schools, would leave nothing further to be desired; and the study of -the ancient languages in gymnasia would be a necessary evil, highly as -their incidental advantages are usually extolled. - -281. But languages alone give to a boy a picture neither of bygone -ages nor of men of the past; to him they are solely troublesome tasks -imposed by the teacher. Nor can golden maxims, fables, and short -narratives change his attitude. For even if these are well suited to -the youthful mind, they do not materially offset the aversion to the -work on stems, which have to be memorized; inflections, which must be -practised; and conjunctions, which are required for guidance in the -study of periods. - -Ancient history (243, 246) is the only possible groundwork for the -pedagogical treatment of the ancient languages. - -282. Now it is true that if Latin is begun first, Eutropius and -Cornelius Nepos suggest themselves as suitable authors for study, as -soon as the merest rudiments of Latin have been learned in connection -with instruction in the mother-tongue (277). And their use is not to -be entirely condemned, provided the teacher takes it upon himself to -make the past present through narration. But, as is well known, these -authors are after all very meagre, and, besides, where to look for a -path beyond them still remains an open question. - -283. The reasons which accord to Homer's "Odyssey" the preference -for early use are familiar.[41] They are patent to every one who -attentively reads the "Odyssey" with constant reference to the various -main classes of interest which teaching is to awaken (83-94). But the -question involved is not merely one of immediate effect, but also of -finding points of departure for the later stages of instruction. There -can be no better preparation for ancient history than to establish an -interest in ancient Greece by means of the Homeric story. At the same -time, the soil is being made ready for the cultivation of taste, and -for language study. - -To reasons of this kind, derived directly from the chief aim of all -teaching and opposed only by tradition (the conventional _doing_ of -the classics), the philologists will have to listen some time, if they -are not willing that, with the growing importance of history and of -the natural sciences, and with the increasing pressure of material -interests, the study of Greek in schools should be pushed into a corner -and suffer a reduction similar to that which has already taken place -in the case of Hebrew. (A few decades ago Greek came very near being -remitted for all but those intending to study theology.) - -Of course, the "Odyssey" possesses no miraculous power to inspire -those who have no talent whatever for language studies or do not take -them seriously; nevertheless, as many years of experience have shown, -it surpasses every other work of antiquity that might be selected in -definite pedagogical effect. Moreover, its study does not preclude -an early commencement of Latin (nor even of Greek, where that seems -necessary); only Latin cannot be pushed with the customary rapidity -at the same time; for the "Odyssey" requires an hour daily, and -grammatical and lexicological work besides. - -Experience has proved that the grammatical rudiments pertaining to -declension and conjugation must be worked over very carefully first, -although reduced to what is absolutely essential. Besides, the first -lessons in the "Odyssey" ought not to exceed a few lines each time; -and, during the first months, no accurate memorizing of words is to -be demanded. But farther on the acquisition of a vocabulary must be -vigorously insisted on; in fact, it becomes the pupil's most necessary -collateral work. By continued effort in this direction a considerable -portion of the whole stock of words is gradually acquired; the language -forms are supplied with the content to which they refer, and through -which they become significant. The teacher must know exactly, not only -when to hasten on, but also when to delay; for every perceptible gain -in facility is likely to betray pupils into some carelessness which -needs to be corrected at once. With good pupils it is not infeasible -to read the whole of the "Odyssey," since facility increases very -rapidly toward the end. Nevertheless, such work should not extend much -beyond two years; otherwise weariness sets in, or time is taken from -other things. In schools it will be well to assign the first four books -to one class, perhaps the class composed of pupils nine or ten years -old, the next class to begin with Book V. To determine exactly how -many books each class can work up thoroughly is unnecessary, as good -translations can be used to fill in the gaps that occur. The reason -for the division just made will be manifest at once upon a closer -inspection of the "Odyssey." Some books more advanced pupils may later -on read by themselves, but they should be expected to render an account -of what they are doing. It is not necessary at this stage to explain in -detail the rarer peculiarities of the Homeric dialect. Such things may -well be deferred until, later in the course, the study of Homer (of -the "Iliad") is resumed. The teacher who is afraid of the difficulties -connected with the plan presented should remind himself of the fact -that progress by any other path is equally beset with difficulties. -While at work on Homer, care should be taken to keep pupils from being -influenced simultaneously by such tales as those from the Arabian -Nights, because they blunt the sense of the wonderful. - -[41] These reasons apply in no way to the "Iliad," but only to -the "Odyssey." Moreover, it is presupposed that religious feeling -has been sufficiently awakened long beforehand. In that case the -mythical elements can do no harm whatever, for, in so far as they -are inconsistent with religious feeling, their effect is decidedly -repellent, and renders an excess of illusion impossible. - -284. Only two poets, two historians, and two philosophers need to be -mentioned to indicate the continuation of the course. Homer and Virgil; -Herodotus and Caesar; Plato and Cicero. What authors should precede -these, or should intervene, or follow, may be left for circumstances -to determine. Xenophon, Livy, Euripides, Sophocles, and Horace will -probably always retain a place by the side of those mentioned; Horace -especially offers brief maxims, the after-effect of which the educator -should by no means underestimate. It is obvious that Virgil and -Herodotus are rendered much easier by taking up Homer first; on the -other hand, the return to Homer (to the "Iliad") during adolescence, is -as little to be omitted, if only on account of mythology, as the return -to ancient history for purposes of pragmatic study (250). Again, the -syntactical scheme of the ancient languages, which involves far greater -difficulties than do even inflections and vocabulary, is more easily -mastered by placing the poets before the prose-writers, because then -the pupils are not compelled to struggle with all the difficulties of -sentence structure at once. At any rate, it is desirable that, just -as the student's Greek vocabulary is built up from the "Odyssey," his -hoard of Latin words should be drawn from the "Aeneid." The latter, -however, will hardly be read entirely, because it cannot be gone over -with nearly the same rapidity as the latter books of the "Odyssey," -when facility in reading has been attained. Caesar's "Bellum Gallicum" -must be studied with exceptional carefulness, since its style comes -nearer to being a desirable first model for the student of Latin -than the style of the other authors in use. After this has been -accomplished, the strictly systematic teaching and memorizing of Latin -syntax, together with selected brief examples, is in order as one of -the main lines of work. In Plato several books of the "Republic," -especially the first, second, fourth, and eighth, constitute a -desirable goal. That Cicero should be revealed to young minds on his -brilliant side first, namely, as orator, need scarcely be mentioned. -Later on his philosophical writings become important; but many passages -require a fuller development of the subject-matter than is given by him. - -Cicero should frequently be read aloud, or rather declaimed, by the -teacher. An orator demands the living voice; the usual monotonous -reading by the pupils fails to do justice to him. As regards Tacitus -for school use, there is a difference of opinion. Generally speaking, -authors that say much in few words are particularly welcome, not -merely to the explaining teacher, but also to the responsive pupil. -The opposite is true of Cicero; he must be read rapidly in order to be -appreciated. - - For a full discussion of Latin texts to be read, the reader is - referred to Professor Bennett's chapters on "The Teaching of Latin - in the Secondary Schools,"[42] pp. 111-130. For a discussion of the - Greek texts, see Professor Bristol's exposition in the same volume. - -[42] Bennett and Bristol, "The Teaching of Latin and Greek," Longmans, -Green & Co., New York, 1900. - -285. Experience has long since shown how much or how little can be done -with students in Greek and Latin composition; and no method will ever -be devised which would induce earlier than at present that degree of -mental maturity which reveals itself in a good Latin style. So long as -gymnasium pupils are no more select than they now are, the majority, -so far as writing Latin is concerned, will begin something that will -never lead to successful performance. It would be better, instead, to -practise diligently that which can be achieved, namely, composition -during the recitation hour, with the assistance of the teacher, and, -afterward cooperative consideration of the appointed task, by the -pupils. This plan secures the advantage of set essays without the -disadvantage of innumerable mistakes, the correction of which the pupil -rarely remembers. Joint labor is interesting, and can be adapted to -every age. As a substitute for essays, abstracts in Latin of texts -previously interpreted are to be recommended, these abstracts to be -made at first with the help and afterward without the help of the book -in question. To abstract does not mean to imitate, and ought not to -mean that. To imitate Cicero requires Cicero's talent, and unless this -exists, the attempt to imitate, it is to be feared, will result in -cold artificiality. Even Caesar is not so simple that his style could -be taught and learned. But many passages of Caesar may be memorized; at -first short sentences, then longer periods, finally whole chapters. The -usefulness of this practice is attested by experience. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -=Further Specification of Didactics= - - -286. The more precise determination of the theory of instruction -depends on the nature of particular subjects of instruction, on the -individuality of the pupil, and on the external conditions of ethical -life. - -287. Where the goal to be reached is technical knowledge and -multiformity of scholarship, each branch of study asserts its claims -to thoroughness without regard to the rest. Such is the attitude of -the state, which requires many men with special training, together -constituting an efficient whole. Hence it disseminates knowledge and -establishes institutions of learning, without inquiring, save with -reference to future official appointments, who the individuals are that -avail themselves of the offered opportunities. - -288. The family, on the other hand, interested as it is in the -individual, must take the pedagogical point of view, according to -which every human being is to realize the best he is capable of. It is -essential that families should grasp this distinction, and accordingly -concern themselves, not with greatness of particular achievements, but -with the totality of culture possible for the individual. - -289. Closely connected with the foregoing is the difference between -interest and skill. Skill of various sorts can be obtained by force; -but it is of no value to general culture when the corresponding -interest is lacking. - -Insistence on this distinction is a sufficient answer to much -uncalled-for criticism and much unwarrantable assumption of superior -knowledge concerning the results of early stages of instruction. These -results, it is charged, are inadequate; if this or that had been -converted earlier into ability to do, greater progress would have been -made. But when interest has not been aroused, and cannot be aroused, -compulsory acquisition of skill is not only worthless, leading as it -does to soulless mechanical activity, but positively injurious, because -it vitiates the pupil's mental attitude and disposition. - -290. Whether the pupil's individuality will endure without injury the -pressure which drill in skilful performance would necessitate, is a -question which at times cannot be decided except by trial. Reading, -arithmetic, grammar, are familiar instances. - -291. The more perfect the instruction, the greater the opportunity it -affords for comparing the excellences and faults of the individuals -receiving it simultaneously. This point is of importance both to the -continuation of instruction and to training; to the latter, because the -teacher's insight into the causes of the faults which training has to -combat is deepened. - -292. The ethical life may attach itself to views embracing the -universe; it may, on the contrary, move within a very narrow range -of thought. Now while it is true that external circumstances will -usually set limits to instruction, its scope should nevertheless not -be narrower, but in every way wider than the realm of necessary, -everyday prudence. Otherwise the individual will always be in danger of -exaggerating his own importance and that of persons closely related to -him. - -293. It is more difficult, as a rule, to extend the mental horizon in -the direction of the past, than within the present. In teaching girls, -therefore, and children from the lower classes, greater prominence -is given to geography and whatever can be grouped about it than to -historical studies. Again, in cases where a shortening of the course of -study becomes necessary, it becomes well-nigh necessary to take account -of the difference in question. But, conversely, where the scope of -instruction is to be wide, the historical side, because more difficult, -must receive increased attention. - - - - -SECTION II - -THE FAULTS OF PUPILS AND THEIR TREATMENT - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=General Differentiation= - - -294. Some faults are inherent; they are a part of the pupil's -individuality. Others have sprung up in the course of time; and of -these, again, some have been influenced by the factor of individuality -more than others. Faults that the pupil commits are left out of -account for the present. With increasing years some of the inherent -faults grow, others diminish. For there is a continual change of -relation between that which man derives from experience,--between -those ideas which rise spontaneously, and those masses of ideas which -approach stability. There is, besides, an ever varying succession of -diverse reproductions. All this change is pervaded throughout by the -consciousness of one's own body (the original base of support for -self-consciousness) with respect not merely to its needs, but also to -its powers of motion and fitness for use. Again, the apprehension -of the similar is being multiplied; the ideas of things approximate -to general concepts. In addition, the process of judging is shaping -more and more the material presented; accordingly the manner in which -the individual analyzes and puts in order his knowledge becomes -gradually determined. On the one hand there is a growing confidence of -affirmation; on the other, questions remain, the answer to which is -given over to the future. In part they become transformed into longing -expectation. - -Upon all that has been enumerated, the physical organization of the -individual exerts retarding and furthering influences. The effect of -the body is seen in a certain physiological resistance to psychical -processes, and in strong physical impulses far more complex, no doubt, -than ordinary experience shows. - -295. Very frequently the fact forces itself upon us, that persons who -have passed through many vicissitudes of fortune can nevertheless be -recognized by individual traits that were already noticeable in youth. -Here a certain uniformity reveals itself in the characteristic way -and manner in which such persons involuntarily seize upon and work -up various impressions. In order to arrive at a just estimate of his -pupils, the teacher should observe this permanent element as early as -possible. - -Some always know the right moment and whither it calls them; they -always perform the nearest duty, and have their stock of knowledge -uniformly well in hand. Others bury themselves in thought, and give -themselves up to hopes and fears, to plans and projects: they live -in the past or in the future, resent being disturbed by the present, -and require time and effort to bring themselves back to it. Between -the former and the latter are found others, who do indeed note the -given and the present, not, however, to take it as it appears, but -rather to look beyond, for the purpose of spying what lies concealed -behind, or in order to move, displace, interfere, perhaps to distort, -ridicule, and caricature. With many the tendency described is merely -superficial. They play and tease--a common manifestation of youthful -animal spirits. Now the question arises: how much seriousness lies -back of the playfulness. How much depth beneath the animated surface? -Here temperament enters as a factor. The play of one with a sanguine -temperament comes to an end; but where sourness of temper is habitual, -there danger threatens, if, as commonly happens, sport turns to -earnest. Self-assertion plays a part also, manifesting itself in -various ways. It assumes one form in him who has confidence in his -strength, physical or mental, and another form in those who know their -weakness--with or without the mental reservation as to the future -employment of artifice or cunning, and so also with more or less -acknowledgment of the superior power or authority. Passionate playing, -on the whole, implies little seriousness; but may well indicate -sensitiveness and a propensity to freedom from restraint. Prudence in -sport is a sign of ability to take the opponent's point of view, and -to foresee his plans. Love of play is far more welcome to the teacher -than indolence, or languid curiosity, or gloomy seriousness; it is one -of the minor faults, if now and then work is forgotten over a game and -time wasted; the situation is more grave, sometimes very grave indeed, -where extravagance, or greed of gain, or secretiveness, or bad company -is involved. In such cases decided interference on the part of the -teacher is necessary. - -296. Since courage and rationality grow with increasing years, the -faults of mere weakness leave room for hope of improvement, although -there is need of an invigorating mode of life, invigorating physically -and mentally, and of counsel and reproof in particular instances. Under -continued watchful care weak natures improve much more than at first -thought would seem to be likely. - -297. Unsteadiness, continual restlessness, where they accompany good -health without being the result of external stimulation, are doubtful -indications. Here it will be well to look to the sequence of thoughts. -Where, in spite of variableness in general, thoughts are sound and -well connected, this restlessness is not a serious matter. The case is -worse when the opposite is true, especially when the vascular system -appears very irritable, and dreamlike reveries occur. Here the danger -of insanity is seen lurking in the distance. - -The appropriate treatment for such pupils consists in holding them -strictly to definite tasks, especially to those occupations that -compel a close observation of the external world, and in exacting the -performance of the work assigned, without failing to encourage whatever -is undertaken from choice. - -298. Sensual impulses and violence of temper are apt to go from bad to -worse as pupils grow older. Against these, careful supervision, earnest -censure, and the whole rigor of moral principles must be brought to -bear. Momentary ebullitions of passion, however, unless persistently -obstinate attempts are made to justify them, need to be handled gently, -that is, as evils calling for precaution and vigilance. - -299. The faults hitherto noted lie for the most part on the surface. -Others have to be studied as occasion offers in instruction. - -There are minds so dull that even the attempt merely to secure -connection with definite portions of such thoughts as they have -does not succeed. Easy questions intended to raise their ideas into -consciousness only increase the resistance to be overcome. They are -seized with embarrassment from which they seek to escape, sometimes by -a simple, "I don't know," sometimes by the first wrong answer that -comes to hand. Mental activity has to be enforced, yet remains feeble -at best, and it is only in after years, under pressure of necessity, -that they acquire some facility for a limited sphere. Others, whom one -would be inclined to call contracted rather than generally limited, -because by them reproduction is performed successfully but within a -narrow compass, exhibit a lively endeavor to learn, but they learn -mechanically, and what cannot be learned in that way they apprehend -incorrectly. These undertake, nevertheless, to form and express -judgments, but their judgments turn out to be erroneous; hence they -become first discouraged and then obstinate. Again, there are those -whose ideas cannot be dislodged, and still others whose ideas cannot -be brought to a halt. These two classes call for a more detailed -consideration. - -300. Among the various masses of ideas (29) some necessarily acquire -permanent predominance, others come and go. But if this relation -reaches full development and becomes fixed too early, the controlling -ideas no longer admit of being arrested to the extent necessary -for the reception of the new material offered by instruction. This -fact explains the experience that clever boys, notwithstanding the -best intentions to receive instruction, yet frequently appear very -unreceptive, and that a certain rigidity of mind, which in later -manhood would not occasion surprise, seems to have strayed, as it -were, into boyhood. No one should allow himself to be betrayed into -encouraging such narrowness by commendatory terms such as pertain to -strength and energy; just as little, however, should clumsy teaching -and its sequel, listless learning, be left out of account, as having no -bearing on this state of affairs. - -For, rather may it be assumed that the fault mentioned might have been -largely forestalled by very early instruction of all kinds, provided -such instruction had been combined with a variety of attractive -rather than of too difficult tasks. Where, on the other hand, mental -nervousness has once taken root, it cannot be eradicated by all the art -and painstaking effort of a multitude of teachers. When the questions -of a child, six years old let us say, give rise to the apprehension -that they proceed from a too contracted mental horizon, there should be -no delay about resorting to manifold forms of stimulation, especially -in the way of widening the pupil's experience to the greatest -practicable extent. - -301. On the other hand, it is not rare to find boys, and even young -men, in whose minds no one thought-mass attains to any very prominent -activity. Such boys are always open to every impression and ready for -any change of thought. They are wont to chat pleasantly, and to form -hasty attachments. Here belong those who learn easily and forget as -quickly. - -This defect, too, when once confirmed, resists all skill and good -intentions; strength of purpose, from the very nature of the case, -is out of the question. The situation varies in gravity, however, -according to the influences of the earliest environment. If these -proved distracting, the fault mentioned assumes alarming proportions -even in minds otherwise well endowed. But where some form or other -of necessary respect has been steadily at work, the youth will raise -himself to a higher plane than the boy gave promise of doing. Least -of all, however, can the teacher allow himself to be betrayed into -hoping for a future development of talent by superficial alertness, -combined, it may be, with droll fancies, bold pranks, and the like. -Talent reveals itself through persistent endeavor, sustained even under -circumstances little favorable to it, and not until such endeavor -clearly manifests itself is the thought of giving it support to be -entertained. - -The two faults under discussion may indeed come to light only in the -course of time; nevertheless, they are inherent faults, and can be -mitigated, to be sure, but not completely cured. - -302. Far easier to deal with are the erratic movements of energetic -characters capable of ardent enthusiasm. The mere thoroughness and -many-sidedness of good instruction, which emphasizes and aims to -effect rational connection and balance of mind, obviously supply the -corrective. - -303. Originally it would have been easier to have prevented those -faults which are due to the mismanagement or to the omission of early -government, instruction, or training. But with time, the difficulties -of a cure grow in a very rapid ratio. In general, it is well to note -that the teacher has every reason to congratulate himself, if, after -early neglect, there appear under improved treatment some belated -traces of those questions which belong to the sixth or seventh year of -childhood (213). - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=The Sources of Moral Weakness= - - -304. Under this head five main points come up for consideration:-- - - (1) Tendencies of the child's will impulses. - (2) Ethical judgments and their absence. - (3) Formation of maxims. - (4) Organization of maxims. - (5) Application of organized maxims. - -305. (1) Where training has not provided for occupation and for the -distribution of time, we must always expect to encounter an activity -which has no aim, and which forgets its own purposes. From such a state -of affairs arise a craving for liberty averse to all control, and, -where several pupils are grouped together, contention, either for the -possession of something or for the sake of showing off. Each wants -to be first; recognition of the just equality of all is deliberately -refused. Mutual ill-will intrenches itself and stealthily waits for an -opportunity to break forth. Here is the fountain head of many passions; -even those which spring from excessive sensuousness must be classed -under this first head, in so far as they are promoted by lack of -regulated activity. The havoc caused by passions is a pervading element -in the discussion of all of the remaining topics. - -306. (2) It is true that education usually counteracts the tendency to -indolence and to unruliness, not only by the use of the spur and the -bridle, but also through guidance in the direction of the proprieties; -giving rise to the thought "what will others say," it shows existing -conditions as mirrored in the minds of others. But when these others -are compelled to remain silent, or when the pupil is sure of their -partiality, or is exposed to their errors of judgment, the effect is to -vitiate rather than to arouse the ethical judgment. - -Nevertheless, calling attention to the judgment of others, and not -merely of particular individuals, is very much better than waiting -for the spontaneous awakening of ethical judgment. In most cases the -waiting would be in vain. Matters of ethical import are either too -close to the ordinary human being, and so, of course, to the boy left -entirely to himself, or they are too remote, _i.e._, either they have -not as yet passed outside the pale of affection or aversion, or else -they are already fading from the field of vision. In neither case can -an ethical judgment be formed with success. At any rate, it will vanish -before it can produce an effect. - -In order to reach those ethical judgments on which morality rests, the -child must see will images, see them without the stirring of his own -will impulse. - -These will images, moreover, must embrace relations, the single members -of which are themselves wills, and the beholder is to keep such members -equally in sight, until the estimate of value rises spontaneously -within him. But such contemplation implies a keenness and calmness of -apprehension not to be looked for in unruly children. Hence it may -be inferred how necessary training is--serious, not to say severe, -training. Unruliness must have been tamed and regular attention -secured. The preliminary condition fulfilled, it is further essential -that there shall be no lack of sufficiently distinct presentations of -the foregoing will images. And even then the ethical judgment often -matures so tardily that it has to be pronounced in the name of other -persons--persons higher in authority. - -307. In this connection the instances of one-sidedness of ethical -judgment must not be overlooked, such as occur when one of the -practical ideas stands out more prominently than another, or when that -which is outwardly proper rises above them all. - -308. (3) All desires persistently operative and productive of -fluctuating states of emotional excitement, therefore rightly called -passions, lead to experiential knowledge of the beneficial and the -injurious. The beneficial suggests frequent repetition in the future, -the injurious continued avoidance. Accordingly rules of life take -shape, and the resolution always to observe them is made. In other -words, maxims result. - -From simple resolution to actual observance is still, to be sure, a far -cry. But the claim for the universal validity of the rule, so that the -individual may regard it as applicable to others as well as to himself, -enters the mind far more directly by way of desires which point forward -to similar cases in the future, than it does under the guidance of -ethical judgments whose universal element is abstracted from given -single instances with difficulty. In fact, this difficulty is often so -great that the ethical judgment itself may be missed in the search for -the universal. - -309. Now, the promptness and loyalty of obedience to the sum total of -duties, once recognized as such and fixed through the maxims adopted, -are passed upon by the moral judgment. Correct moral judgment, -therefore, presupposes true insight into the value of will, which -insight again can be obtained only through the ethical estimate as a -whole. But in view of the circumstances pointed out a moment ago, we -must expect to come upon maxims that are false or at least inaccurate. -Under the latter head fall points of honor, social obligations, fear of -ridicule. - -310. (4) Maxims ought to form a unit, but in youth they are not fully -determined even singly, much less are they closely united into a -definite whole. The proviso of exceptions still clings to them, so also -that of future tests through experience. - -The maxims arising out of the desires and pleasures can never be -brought into perfect union with those springing from ethical judgments. -Accordingly the wrong subordination takes place, or, at all events, a -contamination of the latter by the former. - -311. (5) In the application of maxims more or less unified, the -volition of the moment is apt to prove stronger than the previous -resolves. Hence, man becomes only too prone to condone and fall in -with discriminations between theory and practice. The consequence is a -certain moral empiricism, which, if nothing else will do to justify its -disregard of moral law, falls back upon pious feelings. Plans of action -are formed without regard to maxims, but with the apparent compensation -of another kind of morally regular life. - -Such contempt of moral judgment gains ground and spreads ruin all the -more, the farther the ethical judgments on which morality must rest -fall short of the clearness that ought to mark them, and the cruder -the pupil's knowledge is of the antithesis between them and maxims of -utility or pleasure. - -312. The natural aid to the formation and union of maxims is the -system of practical philosophy itself. But the teaching of it involves -difficulties. One of them is that such marked differences occur among -young men in the relation of systematic exposition to the grade of -culture which they have attained. For observations of this nature, -religious instruction prior to confirmation provides an early -opportunity. How such instruction is to be given, is, of course, by -no means immaterial, but, after all, the moral sentiments, which it -gathers together and strengthens, must, in substance, already exist. - -Again, if the end sought were more strictly scientific form for the -moral sentiments, there would have to be ground for presuming that -the student is able to appreciate that form and has acquired skill -in the use of logical methods. The study of logic, together with -appropriate exercises, would obviously be a necessary preliminary step. -Prerequisites like these need to be borne in mind, especially in the -case of lower schools and all other institutions that do not, as a -rule, lead to the university. - -313. Erroneous systems of ethics, moreover, might occasion the adoption -of very absurd measures, concerning which, on account of the importance -of the subject, at least something has to be said. Everything would be -turned upside down, if, instead of bringing together and uniting maxims -under the concept virtue, the attempt were made to deduce from some one -formula of the categorical imperative a multiplicity of maxims and from -these, rather than from the original ethical judgments, the estimates -of will values, the final undertaking being, perhaps, to divert the -will itself by such operations. - -On the contrary, the will must early have been given such direction by -government and training, that its lines of tendency will of themselves -coincide as nearly as possible with the paths disclosed later, when -the pupil is being shown the way through ethical judgments. Those -beginnings of evil noted above (305) must not be permitted to appear at -all, for their consequences usually prove ineradicable. But even so, it -is not certain that a way can be hewn through the errors of others to -truer judgments. When, however, both ends have been gained, experience -and history and literature must next be called in, in order to show -clearly the confusion into which the maxims based upon pleasure and -passion plunge human beings. Not until now has the time come for more -or less systematic lectures, or for the study of suitable classical -writers. Lastly, there will still be need of frequent appeals to moral -obedience, and it will be found necessary to reinforce these appeals by -reflections of a religious character. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -=The Effects of Training= - - -314. - - A. Training prevents passions in that it:-- - (1) satisfies needs, - (2) avoids opportunities for violent desires, - (3) provides employment, - (4) accustoms to order, - (5) demands reflection and responsibility. - - B. Training influences the emotions in that it:-- - (1) checks violent outbreaks, - (2) creates other emotions, - (3) and supplements self-control. - - C. Training impresses the courtesies of life (counteracts bad - manners), consequently:-- - (1) the deportment of individuals is made approximately uniform; - (2) the number of possible points of social contact becomes much - greater than where strife and contention rule; - (3) while the development of one or the other individual is - checked, the more important energies are not stifled, provided - excess of severity be avoided. - - D. Training makes cautions, for:-- - (1) It restricts foolhardiness, - (2) It warns against dangers, - (3) It punishes in order to make wiser, - (4) It observes and accustoms the human being to the thought of - being observed. - -315. Looked at as a whole, these obvious and familiar effects of -training show at once that, generally speaking, its power to lessen -evil is very great, and that it is capable of effectively acting upon -the interrelations of various masses of ideas. But they suggest also -the presence of danger. Training, by driving evil from the surface, may -give rise to clandestine deeds. - -316. When this happens, the relations between teacher and pupils grow -increasingly abnormal, since secret practices become general and -concerted, and the pupils assume a studied behavior in the presence of -the teacher. - -The consequences are well known:--Inexorable severity in dealing with -concealed offences when discovered; great leniency in the case of open -transgressions; recourse to the machinery of supervision, often even to -secret watching, in order that the system of concealment may not get -the better of education. - -317. It lowers the dignity of the teacher to take part habitually -in a competition between spy and concealers. He must not demand to -know everything, although he ought not to allow his confidence to be -victimized by clumsy or long-continued deception. - -Such difficulties, however, only make it more intensely necessary -that the foundation of education be laid during the earliest years, -when supervision is still easy, and the heart is reached by formative -influences with greater certainty than ever afterward, and that, if -possible, families should not for any length of time lose sight of -their own members. - -Ethical and moral judgments can be simulated; the finest maxims and -principles may be learned by rote; piety may be put on as a cloak. -Unmask the hypocrite, however, and turn him out, and, forthwith, he -plays his game over again elsewhere. Nothing remains but recourse to -severity which deters, and constant occupation under close supervision -in another quarter, in order that he may get away from the hiding -places of his misdeeds. Sometimes banishment is capable of bringing -about improvement. - -318. The will is most directly tractable in social relations, where it -appears as common will. In infancy, the child, wholly devoted to his -mother, is manageable through her; at a later period training is surest -of success when it promotes attachments among the young and carefully -fosters the seeds of goodness. The social ideas, purified by teaching, -must gradually be added. - -319. But as far back as boyhood, factions spring up and exclusive -sets are formed, facts which the teacher cannot permit to elude his -vigilance. - -When a kind of authority is granted to some older and tried pupils -over those younger and less mature in judgment, the former become -responsible; but the latter are not on that account relieved of all -reflection on their own part, nor are they obliged to submit to every, -though plainly unreasonable, demand of the former. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -=Special Faults= - - -320. First of all it is necessary to distinguish between those faults -which the pupil commits and those which he has. Not all faults one -commits are direct manifestations of those he possesses; but those -which are committed repeatedly may grow permanent. This truth must be -made clear, and must be impressed upon the mind of the pupil to the -full extent of his powers of comprehension. - -321. In the case of false steps caused from without by unnoticed -pitfalls, or made in spite of a firm resolve to the contrary, the pupil -is himself usually frightened by what he has done. If so, all depends -on the gravity of his offence as compared with the degree of his horror. - -There is a host of minor faults, blunders, and even acts resulting in -damage, which tax the patience of the teacher severely; but it would -imply a mistaken conception of the difficulty of moral education, if -he should repel the frankness of his pupils by harsh treatment of such -offence. Frankness is too essential a factor to be sacrificed; once -gone it will hardly ever wholly return. - -322. But the first lie uttered with evil intent, the first act of -theft, and similar actions positively detrimental to morality or -health, have to be dealt with severely, and always in such a way that -the pupil who thought he was permitting himself a slight fault, is made -to experience most thoroughly both fear and censure. - -323. Serious treatment of a first offence is demanded also where pupils -try to see how far they may safely disregard authority and command. -It is important, however, not to overestimate the intention of these -attempts; important also to exhibit strength, but not anger. Yet -there are cases where the teacher must seem to act with some warmth, -because the necessary treatment, if combined with coldness, would only -intensify bitterness and cause pain an inordinate length of time. But -very likely as much feeling as is expedient will show itself upon -simply laying aside the assumed coldness. - -324. On the restoration of perfect order after a period during which -government and training were lacking, a large number of faults will -disappear of themselves, and accordingly do not require to be combated -one by one. Respect for order, and incentives sufficiently strong to -regular activity, are the main things. - -325. Faults which the pupil seems to possess are often only the -borrowed maxims of the society which he hopes to enter. Here it becomes -the business of education to set him right, if possible, and to -elevate his view of human relations, in order that he may disdain the -false appearances he before held in esteem. - -326. Faults which an older pupil actually possesses rarely occur -singly. Moreover, they are seldom fully disclosed; their appearance is -determined by a prudent regard for circumstances. During the period of -education such faults can, indeed, be largely prevented from growing -worse, but the radical improvement of those who are secretive from -prudence is rarely to be thought of before they have become more -prudent still, too proud for concealment, and more susceptible to the -true estimate of moral values. - -Where older boys and young men are found to possess unused talents, and -where instruction can be so arranged as to develop them, there is some -prospect of supplying a counterbalance to those habits which have been -contracted. But, in general, efforts looking toward a lasting reform -are successful only when made at an early age. At all events, where -there is much to amend, the feeling of dependence on strict training -must be kept alive for a long time. - -327. More success is likely to attend the endeavor to correct those -faults which are not tolerated within the social class of which the -pupil regards himself a member. Two factors determine the proper mode -of procedure: the importance of making the pupil acquainted with the -worthiest side of his social group, and, on the other hand, the -unavoidable necessity of causing him to see its less noble features in -case he discovers in it free scope for his inherent faults. - -328. Here the pupil's capacity for education, as well as the limits -of that capacity, are brought home to the teacher. As boys approach -manhood, they let birth and external circumstances designate for -them that class of society to which they will belong. The class -defined, they seek to acquire its form of life, and to get into its -main current. On the way thither they accept and take along so much -of higher motives, of knowledge and insight, as, on the one hand, -instruction offers and training favors, and as, on the other hand, -the individuality of each one, which the earliest impressions have -further determined, is ready to assimilate. Those are rare exceptions -who, through the development of an absorbing interest of some kind, -in religion, or science, or art, have become less susceptible to the -attractive force of their social class. Their course has been marked -out by the instruction which induced the absorption; henceforth they -are self-actively engaged in the pursuit of whatever accords with the -end in view, and accept only a small part of what is presented to them. - -329. Specific forms of a pupil's attitude toward society, especially -the relative prominence in his mind of state or family relations, will -have to receive due consideration in marshalling motives to counteract -particular faults. Indeed, the same is true of the appeal to those -motives through which it is sought to establish a preponderance of -worthier endeavor over moral imperfection in general. - - - - -SECTION III - -REMARKS ON THE ORGANIZATION OF EDUCATION - - - - -CHAPTER I - -=Home Education= - - -330. On discovering that his own efforts encounter impediments, the -individual teacher might easily come to think that society could -do everything, if it only would, and if it possessed the necessary -insight. Further reflection, however, reveals the existence of -difficulties peculiar both to state and family. - -331. The state needs soldiers, farmers, mechanics, officials, etc., and -is concerned with their efficiency. Its attitude toward a large number -of persons, whose existence as individuals has significance only in a -narrow sphere, is, in general, far more that of supervision designed to -prevent the harm they might do, than one of direct helpfulness. He who -is able to render competent service receives preferment; the weaker has -to give way to the stronger; the shortcomings of one are made good by -another. - -332. The state applies its tests to what can be tested, to the outward -side of conduct and of knowledge. It does not penetrate to the inner -life. Teachers in public schools cannot penetrate much farther; they, -too, are more concerned with the sum total of knowledge imparted by -them, than with the individual and the way in which he relates his -knowledge to himself. - -333. To the family, however, no stranger can make up for what one -of its members lacks; to the family the inner condition becomes so -manifest, and is often felt so keenly, that the merely external does -not satisfy. It is obvious, therefore, that moral education will always -remain essentially a home task, and that the institutions of the state -are to be resorted to for educative purposes only with a view to -supplementing the home. - -But on closer inspection it is found that family life is very often -too busy, too full of care, or too noisy, for that rigor which is -undeniably required both for instruction and for morality. Luxury and -want alike harbor dangers for youth. Consequently families lean on the -state for support more than they ought. - -334. Private institutions as such do not possess the same motive power -as either state or family, and are seldom able to make themselves -independent of the comparisons to which they are exposed, because of -the fact that they are expected in one case to take the place of the -state schools, and in another that of the family. - -Nevertheless, sturdy minds which do not require the emulation obtaining -in schools can be advanced more rapidly, and instruction adapted -more easily to individual needs, than in public institutions. As for -training, moreover, the evils that may spring from environment can be -prevented more successfully than is possible in many families. - -If the institutions in question could choose from among many teachers -and many pupils, they might, under otherwise favorable circumstances, -be able to achieve great results. But the fact of a picked set of -pupils alone shows how little the whole need of education would be -met. Besides, even those that were chosen would bring with them their -earliest impressions; they would incline toward the social conditions -for which they believe themselves to be destined; the faults of -individuality (294 _et seq._) would cling to them, unless such faults -were recognized before the selection, and were avoided by exclusion. - -335. As much as possible, then, education must return to the family. -In many cases private tutors will be found to be indispensable. And of -instructors excellently equipped as to scholarship, there will be the -less lack, the better the work done by the gymnasia. - -It must be noted, also, that instead of being the most difficult, the -most advanced instruction is the easiest of all, because imparted with -the least departure from the way in which it was received. People are -therefore mistaken when they assume that private tutors are capable -of furnishing an equivalent only for the lowest classes in gymnasia. A -far greater difficulty lies in the fact that even the most skilful and -active tutor cannot give as many lessons as a school provides, and that -accordingly more has to be left to the pupil's own efforts. To be sure, -this is exactly the mode of instruction which suits the bright student -better than one that must accommodate itself to the many, and which on -that account must progress but slowly. - -336. But home education presupposes that sound pedagogical views have -been arrived at in the home, and that their place is not occupied -by absurd whims or half knowledge. (Niemeyer's famous work, "The -Principles of Education and of Instruction," is intelligible to every -educated person, and has been widely known for many years.) - -337. The necessity of sound pedagogical knowledge in the home becomes -all the more urgent where teachers, private or public, change -frequently--whereby inequalities of instruction and treatment are -introduced which need to be corrected. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -=Concerning Schools= - - -338. The school system and its relations to local authorities, on the -one hand, and to the general government, on the other, form a vast and -difficult subject involving not merely pedagogical principles, but also -such aims as the maintenance of higher learning, the dissemination -of useful information, and the practice of indispensable arts. In -university lectures a few words on such topics suffice, since young -men who accept a school position assume, at the same time, obligations -which for a long time to come prescribe for them the path they must -follow. - -339. They must, in the first place, consider the character of the -school in which they are to instruct. The school programme provides -them with information concerning the scope of the curriculum, the -established relations of the branches of instruction to one another, -and the various stages in each subject. The teachers' conference -affords them an insight into multiplex relations to authorities, -parents, and guardians, and to the pupils, also relations leading to -cooperation, more or less perfect, on the part of the teachers. The -whole of the educational effort directed upon younger, intermediate, -and older pupils is presented in one view; it is known also where the -pupils come from, with what kind of preparation, and where as a rule -they go upon leaving the school. - -340. It must obviously make a vast difference whether pupils look -forward to the university, or whether the gymnasium is filled with boys -who do not intend to pursue higher studies; whether a burgher school -sets a final examination to mark the stage of general culture to which -the school is expected to advance the pupils, or whether the pupils -enter and leave without well-defined reasons according to what seems -best to their respective families; whether an elementary school is -conducted merely as an institution preparing for gymnasia or burgher -schools, or whether its course provides for the suitable education, -during his whole boyhood, of the future artisan, etc. - -The American school system possesses this great advantage over that -of Germany,--it has an educational ladder planted in every elementary -school upon which any child from any social class may mount as high as -his ambition incites, or his means and ability permit. It is the only -suitable system in a democracy, where opportunity should be open to -all. Even to obtain greater perfection than the German school system -has ever attained, a democratic nation cannot afford to impair its -present organization, in so far as it makes advancement possible to -every aspiring soul. - -341. In each case the official activity entered upon must adjust itself -properly to the whole, the outlines of which are given. These determine -the proportion and the subdivision of the store of learning to be kept -ready for use, the degree of confidence to be shown to pupils as to -knowledge already acquired, and the manner in which they are to be -addressed. It is important that the teacher should appear before his -class adequately prepared and with confident self-possession, that he -should look about attentively at every one and make each pupil feel at -once that it would not be easy for him to undertake anything without -being noticed. - -342. The questions to be put to the pupils need to be formulated -clearly and concisely, and they must follow each other in easy -sequence. The answers must be corrected and, when necessary, repeated, -in order that all may hear them. No pause should be unduly prolonged; -no explanation to the weaker pupil should be allowed to become -oppressively tedious to the more advanced. Those who are at work -at the moment must be assisted, but ought not to be disturbed by -much interrupting talk. The current of thought is to be invited and -accelerated in all, but not hurried, etc. - -Such requirements instruction will meet with greater or less -difficulty, according as classes are small or large and the inequality -of pupils great or slight. - -343. In the assigning of work the capacity of each pupil must be taken -into account as much as possible, in order that no one may surrender to -ill-humor and discouragement on account of excessive demands, nor any -one permit himself carelessly to abuse a task too easy for him. - -344. Inequalities of division resulting from rearrangements of classes, -or other changes, must be pointed out to the authorities as clearly -as possible, for the purpose of urging a more even distribution and a -reduction of excessive numbers. - -345. In the course of the gradual extension of such efforts many a -defect will come to light. It may be found, for instance, that the -school is not a whole, because of the lack of a competent teacher for -an important subject, or because of marked inequalities of knowledge -and culture due to the preparatory schools, or because the school (such -as those in small towns) follows the curriculum of a gymnasium while -its real aim is supposed to be that of a burgher school, etc. - -346. Reports of such single defects will as a rule lead only to -correspondingly partial improvements in the system and to relief from -the most onerous perplexities, since it is seldom found possible to -organize the system of a whole province at once in such a way as to -make one harmonious whole. - -347. But in case comprehensive reforms of the school system were -undertaken, it would be necessary not merely to tolerate great -multiformity, but even to create it purposely. For division of labor -is in all human performance the right path to better things; and the -preceding discussion must have shown with sufficient clearness how much -depends on a more discriminating segregation of pupils. - - - - -INDEX - - - A, B, C, of Perception, 253. - Absorption and Reflection, 66. - Action, clandestine, 315. - Action and Rest, 156. - Administrative System, 15. - Adolescence, and obedience, 161; - bibliography for, 231. - Aesthetics, 93. - Affection, 24. - Algebra, history of, 255. - Alertness of mind, superficial, 301. - American History _vs._ that of Greece and Rome, 241. - Analytic instruction, definition, 106; - first stages of, 111; - other forms of, 117; - with children, 214. - Ancient Languages, their use as employment, 98; - labor of mastering, 103. - Apperceiving attention, capacity for, 129. - Application, 67; - a stage of method, 70. - Approbation, 151. - Arguing with children, evils of, 164. - Arithmetic, with boys, 223-224. - Arranging of objects, 215. - Arrested development, 171. - Art of narration, 76. - Arts, 251. - Assistance, gradual withdrawal, 204. - Association, 67; - promoted by conversation, 69. - Athletics, over-valuation of, 169. - Attention, divided, 63; - forced and spontaneous, 73; - primitive and apperceiving, 74. - Authority, 53-163; - delegated, 319. - Aversion, 24. - - - Bad conduct of adults, 187. - Baldwin, quoted, 168, 195. - Barrenness of text-book method, 243. - Barriers to education, 5. - Bennett and Bristol, "The teaching of Latin and Greek," 279. - Bible stories, 234. - Biblical stories _vs._ Mythology, 237. - Boundary between boyhood and adolescence, 217. - Boyhood, boundary between, and adolescence, 217. - Brown, George P., 271. - - - Capacity for education in children, 33. - Caprice of will, 1, 3. - Categorical imperative, not the true source of maxims, 313. - Censure, 151. - Character, development of, 64; - objective side of, 143; - subjective side of, 143; - strength of, 147. - Cheerfulness, social, 211. - Children, government of, 45-55. - Childhood, 203-216. - Child study, 33, 34. - Choice, content of, 167; - of subject-matter, 95. - Choosing, 167. - Chronology in history, 240. - Clandestine action, 315. - Classical _vs._ scientific education, 85. - Classification of interests, 83; - how to provide for, 135. - Clearness, 67. - Combats between teacher and pupils, 163. - Commands, sweeping, 48. - Committing to memory, 81. - Communion, 232. - Comparative study, 89. - Complication of ideas, 30. - Composition, true nature of, 123; - in Latin and Greek, 285. - Concealed offences, severity for, 316. - Concert work, 69. - Conduct, becoming, 137. - Conferences, teachers', 339. - Confirmation, 232. - Conjunctions, children's use of, 31. - Consequences, discipline of, 157. - Consistency of action, 174. - Contempt of moral judgment, 312. - Contention, why it pleases children, 183. - Continuity of education, 7. - Contrasts in pupils, 28. - Control, restlessness under, 305. - Conversation, 67. - Corporal punishment, 51. - Correlation of studies, 65; - limits of, 219. - Courage, 296. - Culture, Dogma of Formal, Hinsdale, 279. - Cynics, 83. - Cyrenaics, 83. - - - Dates, 247. - Delegated authority, 319. - Demonstrations, 256. - Depression and elevation, 156. - Desire and passion, 176; - bodily, 177; - gratification of, 155. - Determining influence of training, 167. - Dewey, Dr. John, 38, 63, 73, 150; - and McLellan, 253. - Differences, individual and sex, 219. - Discipline, social basis of, 55; - of consequence, 157. - Diffusion of thought, 35. - Disorder as index of failure, 55. - Disposition, cheerful, 137. - Divided attention, 63. - "Dogma of Formal Culture," Hinsdale, 279. - Doerpfeld, 70. - Drudgery _vs._ work, 63. - Duel, 13. - Dulness, 299. - - - Ease of government, 54. - Easy before the difficult, 127. - Eckoff, Wm. J., 254. - Educability of pupils, 1. - Education according to age, 195-231; - first three years, 195-202; - from four to eight, 203-216; - boyhood, 217-226; - youth, 227-231. - Education as home task, 333. - Educational bookkeeping, 50. - Educative instruction, 59, 100; - value in fixing curriculum, 100. - Election, basis of, 65. - Electives, 89. - Elevation and depression, 156. - Employment, the foundation of government, 46; - for children, 56. - Endurance, 154. - English schools, effect on character of boys, 183. - Environment, influence of, 5, 55; - of pupils, 94. - Equilibrium of ideas, 75. - Equity, definition, 13. - Erratic mental movements, 302. - Estrangement and its removal, 66. - Ethical Basis of Pedagogics, 8-19. - Ethical judgment, 25. - Ethical life, range of, 292. - Ethics, the goal of education, 2. - Examination _vs._ review, 117. - Experience, limits of, 110. - Explication, 67. - Expulsion, 52. - Evil, exclusion of, 149. - - - Faculties, 20, 21, 22, 23; - names for, 27. - Family, its interest in the individual, 288; - its lack of vigor, 333. - Fatalism, 1, 3. - Fatigue, produced by instruction, 70. - Favoritism, 184. - Faults of children and their treatment, 294-329; - general differentiation, 294-303; - sources of moral weakness, 304-313; - effects of training upon, 314-319; - special faults, 320-329; - habitual, 326; - minor, 321; - committed _vs._ faults possessed, 320. - Faust, 83. - First offences, treatment of, 323. - Fiske, method of using text-books of history, 247. - "Five windows of the Soul," 37. - Fixation of ideas, premature, 218. - Formal Culture, Dogma of, Hinsdale, 279. - Formal steps, 67. - Frankness, lack of, 26; - need of, 322. - Freedom and restraint, 156. - Friendliness, with children, 211. - - - Games, the supervision of, 178; - cooperative, 178. - General notions, definition, 30. - Generalizations, 92. - Gentle measures, 43. - Geography, 263-268; - home geography, 263; - an associating science, 264; - narration in, 265; - the old _vs._ the new, 266; - reviews in, 267. - Geographical aspects of history, 245. - Geographical _vs._ historical studies, 293. - Geometry, advantages of association, 102. - Good will, definition, 11; - in children, 206; - two aspects of, 185. - Golden rule, 148. - Goldsmith on the moody teacher, 166. - Government of children, 45-55. - Grading, 344-345. - Grammar, amount to be given, 130. - Greek and Latin, 277-285; - time for beginning, 277-278; - manner of teaching, 279. - Greek and Roman history, priority of, 246; - _vs._ American history, 246. - Greek, authors to be used, 283; - relation of, to religious impressions, 233. - Groups of ideas, 29. - Gumplowicz, 5. - Gymnastic exercises, excessive, 132. - - - Harris, Dr. Wm. T., 37, 143. - Harmony of insight and volition, 9. - Heavenly bodies, observation of, 259. - Herbert Spencer, 85, 157. - Herodotus, stories of, 243. - Higher education, the comparative study of branches, 89. - Higher _vs._ lower schools, 340. - High school, six-year course in, 103. - Hinsdale, "Dogma of Formal Culture," 279. - History, 239-251; - prevailing error of young teachers of, 239; - American _vs._ Greek and Roman, 241; - mediaeval, 249; - modern, 250. - Historical instruction, a branch of education, 37. - Home education, 330-337. - Home work, not a saving of labor, 123. - Homogeneity of pupils, 112. - Honor, standards of, 169; - a feeling of, 223. - _Humaniora_ _vs._ _realia_, 99. - - - Ideas, groups of, 29; - their source, 36; - equilibrium of, 75; - degree of strength, 102. - "Iliad" and "Odyssey," 283. - Imaginary and complex numbers, 256. - Imagination, 22. - Incapacity, feeling of, in children, 216. - Inclinations _vs._ principles, 193. - Individuality, modification of, 41; - differences of, 54. - Individual traits, permanency of, 295. - Indolence of youth, 227. - Inequalities, correction of, 60. - Infancy, 195-202. - Inherent faults, 294. - Inner freedom, aspects of, 187. - Instability of ideas, 301. - Instruction, 56-135; - relation to government and training, 56-61; - aim of, 62-65; - conditions of many-sidedness in, 66-70; - conditions determining interest in, 71-82; - as information giving, 35; - and rudeness, 35; - in relation to pupils' ideas and disposition, 36; - branches of, 36; - its good beginning, 105. - Insertion _vs._ continuation, 129. - Insight, definition, 8; - harmony of with volition, 9. - Intercourse, social, 78. - Interest, conditions of, 71-82; - main kinds of, 83-94; - many-sidedness of, 62; - direct and indirect, 63; - _vs._ effort, 63; - bearing of on virtue, 64; - classification of, 83; - not sole guide to selection of studies, 135; - compared with skill, 289. - Inventions, 251. - Irritability, 297. - - - James, quoted, 175. - Judgment, 23; - of moral quality of actions, 9; - ethical, 25. - Justice and equality with boys, 221. - - - Kant, 3; - his views on moral obedience, 173. - - - Lange's "Apperception," 74. - Language lessons _vs._ grammar, 271. - Languages, difficulties of, 129. - Larned, method of using text-books, 247. - Latin and Greek, 277-285; - time for beginning, 103; - composition in, 285. - Latin, increase in study of, 278; - reasons for teaching, 279; - authors to be read, 282. - Letter writing, 276. - Listlessness, 158. - Literary masterpieces, study of, 76. - Logarithms, 254. - Love, 53. - - - Magnitudes in mathematics, 252. - Main kinds of interest, 83-94; - materials of, 95-104; - process of, 105-130; - plan of, 131-135. - Manly games, effects of on boys, 183. - Manual training, 259; - effect of on discipline, 56. - Many-sidedness, 66-70; - of interest, 62. - Materials of instruction, 95-104. - Mathematics, 252-257; - linked to nature, 39; - correlation of, 39; - aptitude for, 252. - Mathematical teaching, order of, 255. - Maxims, origin of, 310. - McLellan and Dewey, 253. - McMurray, 74. - Measuring, 253. - Mediaeval history, 249. - Memorizing, 81, 108. - Memory of will, 161. - Mental faculties, names for, 27. - Mental instability, 301. - Mephistopheles, 83. - Method, 67. - Mob spirit, the, 168. - Mobility of ideas, 35. - Modern history, 250. - Modern languages, arguments for their study, 98. - Modern methods of using text-books in history, 247. - Money, teaching the use of, 170. - Moodiness in the teacher, 166. - Moods and whims, 147. - Moral eccentricity, 307. - Moral freedom, possibility of, 173. - Moral education in strict sense, 188. - Moral judgment, contempt of, 312. - Moral revelation of the world, 167. - Morality, demand of upon youth, 231. - Mother-tongue, the, 269. - Motives of youth, 229. - Musical instruments, study of, 179. - - - Narration, art of, 76; - historical, 239-243. - Natorp, 143. - Natural science, 258-262. - Nature study, 258-262; - apperceptive basis for, 258; - and history, 258. - Niemeyer, 112, 113. - - - Obedience, 48; - to authority, 173; - promptness of, 309. - Object lessons, how to teach, 114-116. - Observation, of children, 33, 34; - exercises, 215; - which does not observe, 111. - Occupations, 47, 98; - self-chosen, 134. - "Odyssey," 283. - Offences, concealed, 316. - One-sidedness, 86. - Order, restoration of, 324. - Organization of pupil's ideas, 31, 32; - of education, 330-347. - Outlines of general pedagogics, 45-231. - Outside occupations, 134. - Overburdening of pupils, 97, 226. - - - Pampering, 45. - Passions, 180, 181; - prevention of by training, 314; - what they lead to, 308. - Paulsen, 3, 73. - "Pedagogical Seminary," 178. - Pedagogics, ethical basis of, 8-19; - psychological basis of, 20-44; - outlines of general, 45-231. - Perez, 195. - Perfection, idea of, definition, 10; - importance of, 17; - false idea of, 18; - in children, 207-210. - _Perfice te_, 17. - Pestalozzi, 112, 114. - Physical activity, need of, 46. - Physical weakness, consideration for, 159. - Physics, elementary, 261. - Plan of instruction, 131-135. - Play, love of, 295. - Playground, need for, 132. - Plasticity, limited, 4. - Pleasure and pain, sources of, 168. - Praise and censure, 189-190. - Premature fixation of ideas, 218. - Preparation, 70. - Presentation, 70, 119. - Presentative instruction, its present function, 109. - Presentative method, meaning of, 106. - Preyer, 195. - Primacy of ideas, 73, 143; - of will, 73, 143. - Principles _vs._ inclinations, 193. - Private _vs._ public schools, 334. - Process of instruction, 105-130. - Proficiency in knowledge a late acquirement, 127. - Prudence, 145. - Psychological basis of pedagogics, 8-19. - Psychology as instrument, 2. - "Psychology of Number," 253. - Public opinion, respect for, 306. - Public _vs._ private schools, 334. - Punishment, 51-53. - Pupil's interest, how to measure and secure it, 101. - - - Quality _vs._ quantity, in securing interest, 101. - Questions, childish, 213; - character of, 342. - Quietude of mind, 176. - - - Rationality, growth of, 296. - Reading, 273-275. - _Realia_, advantage of, 101. - Recitations, number per week, 133. - Records, of conduct, 50. - Recreations, 132. - Reflection and absorption, 66. - Reform, school, 103. - Regulative principles, establishment of, 173. - Regulative training, 172. - Religion, 232-238. - Religious culture with boys, 222. - Religious feeling, beginnings of, 236. - Religious instruction, 94; - in England, Germany, and the United States, 181. - Religious training, need of, 19. - Reminders, 192. - Repetition, what it accomplishes, 118. - Reproduction, 109. - Rest and action, 156. - Restlessness, 297; - under control, 305. - Restraint, 55; - and freedom, 186. - Revelation of the world, moral, 167. - Reviews, conduct of, 117. - Rigidity of mind, 300. - Rosenkranz, 66. - "Rousing word," the, 175. - Rudeness _vs._ instruction, 35. - Russell, "German Higher Schools," 279. - - - Savings banks, 170. - "School and Society," Dr. John Dewey, 38. - School hygiene, literature of, 132. - Schoolrooms, need for spacious, 132. - Schools, organization of, 338-347. - School system, 338. - Scientific instruction, a branch of education, 37. - Scientific _vs._ classical education, 85. - Seclusion _vs._ society, 168. - Secondary education in United States, its brevity, 103. - Self-activity, 71. - Self-defence, 183. - Self-determination, 26. - Sensibility, kindness of, 152. - Sensual impulses, 298. - Sequence, common view, 96; - of studies, 128. - Series of ideas, 121. - Severity for concealed offences, 316. - Simulation of ethical judgments, 317. - Sin, 338. - Six-year high school course, 103. - Skill _vs._ interest, 289. - Sluggishness of pupils, 165. - Smith, David Eugene, 255, 256. - Social cheerfulness, 211. - Social circle, relation of child to, 208. - Social ends of training, 160. - Social environment of pupils, 94. - Social faults, correction for, 327. - Social intercourse, 78. - Social pressure in government, 161. - Social relations the source of will, 318. - Social, the, in conduct, 62. - Society _vs._ seclusion, 168. - Source of ideas, 36. - Special applications of pedagogics, 232-293; - religion, 232-238; - history, 239-251; - mathematics and natural science, 252-262; - geography, 263-268; - the mother-tongue, 269-275. - Speer, 253. - Spencer, Herbert, 85, 157. - Spinoza, 3. - Spy, the teacher as, 317. - Standards of honor, 169. - State, its attitude toward the individual, 331. - Strife, 182. - Structure of groups of ideas, 31. - Studies, social function of, 62; - as social instruments, 64; - for boys, 225. - Study of literary masterpieces, 76. - Style of speaking, 108. - Subjects to be taught, 100. - Supervision, 48; - strictness of, 49, 50. - Sweetmeats, educational, 99. - Syntax, Latin, 284. - Synthetic instruction, definition, 106; - nature and course of, 125-126. - System, 67; - promoted by connected discourse, 69; - of laws and rewards, 14; - of civilization, 16. - - - Tardiness, 161. - Teacher as spy, 317. - Teachers' conferences, 339. - Temperaments, 295. - Temper, violent, 298. - Tests by the state, 332. - Text-book methods, barrenness of, 243. - Text-book _vs._ oral presentation of history, 239. - Themes for composition, 124. - The mob spirit, 168. - The mother-tongue, 269-276. - Thoughtlessness of pupils, 164. - Time, amount to be given to instruction, 132. - Training, 136-194; - definition, 136, 141; - relation to government and instruction, 136-140; - aim of, 141-142; - differentiation of character, 143-147; - differentiation in morality, 148-150; - helps in, 151-159; - general method, 160-194; - blended with government, 140; - function of, 151. - Transfer of pupils, 52. - Translation, difficulty of, for German children, 103. - Trigonometry, 254. - Tutors, place of, 335. - - - Unification, 65, 66. - Use of things, how taught, 114. - - - Vendettas, 13. - Violin, value of use of, 179. - Virility in the school, 183. - Virtue, definition, 8, 62; - unevenness of development, 8; - its relation to interest, 64. - _Viva vox docet_, 107. - Volition, harmony with insight, 9; - of the moment, 311. - - - Wiget, 70. - Will, memory of, 161. - Women teachers and fighting pupils, 183. - Work _vs._ drudgery, 63. - Written exercises in the mother-tongue, 276. - Written work, tediousness of, 59; - correction of, 123. - Wundt, 74. - - - - -LECTURES ON TEACHING - -DELIVERED IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE - - -By J. G. FITCH, M.A. - - WITH AN INTRODUCTORY PREFACE BY - THOMAS HUNTER, Ph.D., President of the Normal College, New York - -16mo. Cloth. $1.00 - -"This is eminently the work of a man of wisdom and experience. He -takes a broad and comprehensive view of the work of the teacher, -and his suggestions on all topics are worthy of the most careful -consideration."--_New England Journal of Education_. - -"The lectures will be found most interesting, and deserve to be -carefully studied, not only by persons directly concerned with -instruction, but by parents who wish to be able to exercise an -intelligent judgment in the choice of schools and teachers for their -children. For ourselves, we could almost wish to be of school age -again, to learn history and geography from some one who could teach -them after the pattern set by Mr. Fitch to his audience. 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Cloth. 8vo. $2.25. - - - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK - - - - -[Transcriber's Notes: - - Descriptions of the illustrations were added by the transcriber. - All punctuation errors were corrected. - Inconsistent hyphenation was retained. - In Contents, the following changes were done to match chapter titles - in the text: - "of" after "Conditions" was deleted (The Conditions Determining - Interest). - "Material" was changed from "Materials" (The Material of - Instruction). - "The" was inserted before "Relation" (The Relation of Training). - In paragraph 36, "one-sidedness" was changed from "one-sideness" - (one-sidedness of instruction). - In paragraph 38, "counteracting" was changed from "counter: acting" - (counteracting selfishness). - In paragraph 70, alternate spelling of annotator's surname as - "DeGarmo" was retained. - In the Index, - "as" was changed from "an" (Disorder as index of failure). - "Humaniora" was changed from "Humanoria" (_Humaniora_ _vs._ - _realia_).] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Outlines of Educational Doctrine, by -John Frederick Herbart - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF EDUCATIONAL DOCTRINE *** - -***** This file should be named 44905.txt or 44905.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/9/0/44905/ - -Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Marie Bartolo and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian 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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