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
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[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_).]