Dangerous enterprises were of course forbidden, but the teachers of
the institute neglected no means of training our bodies to endure
every exertion and peril; for Froebel was still alive, and the ideal of
education, for whose realization he had established the Keilhau school,
had become to his assistants and followers strong and healthy realities.
But Froebel’s purpose did not require the culture of physical strength.
His most marked postulates were the preservation and development of the
individuality of the boys entrusted to his care, and their training in
German character and German nature; for he beheld the sum of all the
traits of higher, purer manhood united in those of the true German.
Love for the heart, strength for the character, seemed to him the
highest gifts with which he could endow his pupils for life.
He sought to rear the boy to unity with himself, with God, with Nature,
and with mankind, and the way led to trust in God through religion,
trust in himself by developing the strength of mind and body, and
confidence in mankind--that is, in others, by active relations with
life and a loving interest in the past and present destinies of our
fellow-men. This required an eye and heart open to our surroundings,
sociability, and a deeper insight into history. Here Nature seems to be
forgotten. But Nature comes into the category of religion, for to him
religion means: To know and feel at one with ourselves, with God, and
with man; to be loyal to ourselves, to God, and to Nature: and to remain
in continual active, living relations with God.
The teacher must lead the pupils to men as well as to God and Nature,
and direct them from action to perception and thought. For action he
takes special degrees, capacity, skill, trustworthiness; for perception,
consciousness, insight, clearness. Only the practical and clear-sighted
man can maintain himself as a thinker, opening out as a teacher new
trains of thought, and comprehending the basis of what is already
acquired and the laws which govern it.
Froebel wishes to have the child regarded as a bud on the great tree
of life, and therefore each pupil needs to be considered individually,
developed mentally and physically, fostered and trained as a bud on the
huge tree of the human race. Even as a system of instruction, education
ought not to be a rigid plan, incapable of modification, it should be
adapted to the individuality of the child, the period in which it is
growing to maturity, and its environment. The child should be led to
feel, work, and act by its own experiences in the present and in its
home, not by the opinions of others or by fixed, prescribed rules. From
independent, carefully directed acts and knowledge, perceptions, and
thoughts, the product of this education must come forth--a man, or,
as it is elsewhere stated, a thorough German. At Keilhau he is to be
perfected, converted into a finished production without a flaw. If the
institute has fulfilled its duty to the individual, he will be:
To his native land, a brave son in the hour of peril, in the spirit of
self-sacrifice and sturdy strength.
To the family, a faithful child and a father who will secure prosperity.
To the state, an upright, honest, industrious citizen.
To the army, a clear-sighted, strong, healthy, brave soldier and leader.
To the trades, arts, and sciences, a skilled helper, an active promoter,
a worker accustomed to thorough investigation, who has grown to maturity
in close intercourse with Nature.
To Jesus Christ, a faithful disciple and brother; a loving, obedient
child of God.
To mankind, a human being according to the image of God, and not
according to that of a fashion journal.
No one is reared for the drawing-room; but where there is a drawing-room
in which mental gifts are fostered and truth finds an abode, a true
graduate of Keilhau will be an ornament. “No instruction in bowing and
tying cravats is necessary; people learn that only too quickly,” said
Froebel.
The right education must be a harmonious one, and must be thoroughly in
unison with the necessary phenomena and demands of human life.
Thus the Keilhau system of education must claim the whole man, his inner
as well as his outer existence. Its purpose is to watch the nature of
each individual boy, his peculiarities, traits, talents, above all, his
character, and afford to all the necessary development and culture. It
follows step by step the development of the human being, from the almost
instinctive impulse to feeling, consciousness, and will. At each one
of these steps each child is permitted to have only what he can bear,
understand, and assimilate, while at the same time it serves as a ladder
to the next higher step of development and culture. In this way
Froebel, whose own notes, collected from different sources, we are here
following, hopes to guard against a defective or misdirected education;
for what the pupil knows and can do has sprung, as it were, from his own
brain. Nothing has been learned, but developed from within. Therefore
the boy who is sent into the world will understand how to use it, and
possess the means for his own further development and perfection from
step to step.
Every human being has a talent for some calling or vocation, and
strength for its development. It is the task of the institute to
cultivate the powers which are especially requisite for the future
fulfilment of the calling appointed by Nature herself. Here, too, the
advance must be step by step. Where talent or inclination lead, every
individual will be prepared to deal with even the greatest obstacles,
and must possess even the capacity to represent externally what has
been perceived and thought--that is, to speak and write clearly and
accurately--for in this way the intellectual power of the individual
will first be made active and visible to others. We perceive that
Froebel strongly antagonizes the Roman postulate that knowledge
should be imparted to boys according to a thoroughly tested method and
succession approved by the mature human intellect, and which seem most
useful to it for later life.
The systematic method which, up to the time of Pestalozzi, prevailed in
Germany, and is again embodied in our present mode of education, seemed
to him objectionable. The Swiss reformer pointed out that the mother’s
heart had instinctively found the only correct system of instruction,
and set before the pedagogue the task of watching and cultivating the
child’s talents with maternal love and care. He utterly rejected the old
system, and Froebel stationed himself as a fellow-combatant at his side,
but went still further. This stand required a high degree of courage
at the time of the founding of Keilhau, when Hegel’s influence was
omnipotent in educational circles, for Hegel set before the school the
task of imparting culture, and forgot that it lacked the most essential
conditions; for the school can give only knowledge, while true education
demands a close relation between the person to be educated and the world
from which the school, as Hegel conceived it, is widely sundered.
Froebel recognized that the extent of the knowledge imparted to each
pupil was of less importance, and that the school could not be expected
to bestow on each individual a thoroughly completed education, but an
intellect so well trained that when the time came for him to enter into
relations with the world and higher instructors he would have at his
disposal the means to draw from both that form of culture which the
school is unable to impart. He therefore turned his back abruptly on
the old system, denied that the main object of education was to meet
the needs of afterlife, and opposed having the interests of the child
sacrificed to those of the man; for the child in his eyes is sacred, an
independent blessing bestowed upon him by God, towards whom he has the
one duty of restoring to those who confided it to him in a higher degree
of perfection, with unfolded mind and soul, and a body and character
steeled against every peril. “A child,” he says, “who knows how to do
right in his own childish sphere, will grow naturally into an upright
manhood.”
With regard to instruction, his view, briefly stated, is as follows: The
boy whose special talents are carefully developed, to whom we give the
power of absorbing and reproducing everything which is connected with
his talent, will know how to assimilate, by his own work in the world
and wider educational advantages, everything which will render him a
perfect and thoroughly educated man. With half the amount of preliminary
knowledge in the province of his specialty, the boy or youth dismissed
by us as a harmoniously developed man, to whom we have given the methods
requisite for the acquisition of all desirable branches of knowledge,
will accomplish more than his intellectual twin who has been trained
according to the ideas of the Romans (and, let us add, Hegel).
I think Froebel is right. If his educational principles were the common
property of mankind, we might hope for a realization of Jean Paul’s
prediction that the world would end with a child’s paradise. We enjoyed
a foretaste of this paradise in Keilhau. But when I survey our modern
gymnasia, I am forced to believe that if they should succeed in
equipping their pupils with still greater numbers of rules for the
future, the happiness of the child would be wholly sacrificed to the
interests of the man, and the life of this world would close with the
birth of overwise greybeards. I might well be tempted to devote still
more time to the educational principles of the man who, from the depths
of his full, warm heart, addressed to parents the appeal, “Come, let us
live for our children,” but it would lead me beyond the allotted limits.
Many of Froebel’s pedagogical principles undoubtedly appear at first
sight a pallid theorem, partly a matter of course, partly impracticable.
During our stay in Keilhau we never heard of these claims, concerning
which we pupils were the subject of experiment. Far less did we feel
that we were being educated according to any fixed method. We perceived
very little of any form of government. The relation between us and our
teachers was so natural and affectionate that it seemed as if no other
was possible.
Yet, when I compared our life at Keilhau with the principles previously
mentioned, I found that Barop, Middendorf, and old Langethal, as well
as the sub-teachers Bagge, Budstedt, and Schaffner, had followed them in
our education, and succeeded in applying many of those which seemed
the most difficult to carry into execution. This filled me with sincere
admiration, though I soon perceived that it could have been done only
by men in whom Froebel had transplanted his ideal, men who were no less
enthusiastic concerning their profession than he, and whose personality
predestined them to solve successfully tasks which presented
difficulties almost unconquerable by others.
Every boy was to be educated according to his peculiar temperament,
with special regard to his disposition, talents, and character. Although
there were sixty of us, this was actually done in the case of each
individual.
Thus the teachers perceived that the endowments of my brother, with whom
I had hitherto shared everything, required a totally different system of
education from mine. While I was set to studying Greek, he was released
from it and assigned to modern languages and the arts and sciences. They
considered me better suited for a life of study, him qualified for some
practical calling or a military career.
Even in the tasks allotted to each, and the opinions passed upon our
physical and mental achievements, there never was any fixed standard.
These teachers always kept in view the whole individual, and especially
his character. Thereby the parents of a Keilhau pupil were far better
informed in many respects than those of our gymnasiasts, who so often
yield to the temptation of estimating their sons’ work by the greater or
less number of errors in their Latin exercises.
It afforded me genuine pleasure to look through the Keilhau reports.
Each contained a description of character, with a criticism of the work
accomplished, partly with reference to the pupil’s capacity, partly to
the demands of the school. Some are little masterpieces of psychological
penetration.
Many of those who have followed these statements will ask how the German
nature and German character can be developed in the boys.
It was thoroughly done in Keilhau.
But the solution of the problem required men like Langethal and
Middendorf, who, even in their personal appearance models of German
strength and dignity, had fought for their native land, and who were
surpassed in depth and warmth of feeling by no man.
I repeat that what Froebel termed German was really the higher traits of
human character; but nothing was more deeply imprinted on our souls than
love for our native land. Here the young voices not only extolled the
warlike deeds of the brave Prussians, but recited with equal fervor all
the songs with which true patriotism has inspired German poets. Perhaps
this delight in Germanism went too far in many respects; it fostered
hatred and scorn of everything “foreign,” and was the cause of the long
hair and cap, pike and broad shirt collar worn by many a pupil. Yet
their number was not very large, and Ludo, our most intimate friends,
and I never joined them.
Barop himself smiled at their “Teutonism” but indulged it, and it was
stimulated by some of the teachers, especially the magnificent Zeller,
so full of vigour and joy in existence. I can still see the gigantic
young Swiss, as he made the pines tremble with his “Odin, Odin, death to
the Romans!”
One of the pupils, Count zur Lippe, whose name was Hermann, was called
“Arminius,” in memory of the conqueror of Varus. But these were external
things.
On the other hand, how vividly, during the history lesson, Langethal,
the old warrior of 1813, described the course of the conflict for
liberty!
Friedrich Froebel had also pronounced esteem for manual labour to be
genuinely and originally German, and therefore each pupil was assigned
a place where he could wield spades and pickaxes, roll stones, sow, and
reap.
These occupations were intended to strengthen the body, according to
Froebel’s rules, and absorbed the greater part of the hours not devoted
to instruction.
Midway up the Dissauberg was the spacious wrestling-ground with the
shooting-stand, and in the court-yard of the institute the gymnasium
for every spare moment of the winter. There fencing was practised with
fleurets (thrusting swords), not rapiers, which Barop rightly believed
had less effect upon developing the agility of youthful bodies. Even
when boys of twelve, Ludo and I, like most of the other pupils, had our
own excellent rifles, a Christmas gift from our mother, and how quickly
our keen young eyes learned to hit the bull’s-eye! There was good
swimming in the pond of the institute, and skating was practised there
on the frozen surface of the neighbouring meadow; then we had our
coasting parties at the “Upper House” and down the long slope of the
Dissau, the climbing and rambling, the wrestling and jumping over
the backs of comrades, the ditches, hedges, and fences, the games
of prisoner’s base which no Keilhau pupil will ever forget, the
ball-playing and the various games of running for which there was always
time, although at the end of the year we had acquired a sufficient
amount of knowledge. The stiffest boy who came to Keilhau grew nimble,
the biceps of the veriest weakling enlarged, the most timid nature was
roused to courage. Indeed, here, if anywhere, it required courage to be
cowardly.
If Froebel and Langethal had seen in the principle of comradeship the
best furtherance of discipline, it was proved here; for we formed
one large family, and if any act really worthy of punishment, no mere
ebullition of youthful spirits, was committed by any of the pupils,
Barop summoned us all, formed us into a court of justice, and
we examined into the affair and fixed the penalty ourselves. For
dishonourable acts, expulsion from the institute; for grave offences,
confinement to the room--a punishment which pledged even us, who imposed
it, to avoid all intercourse with the culprit for a certain length of
time. For lighter misdemeanours the offender was confined to the house
or the court-yard. If trivial matters were to be censured this Areopagus
was not convened.
And we, the judges, were rigid executors of the punishment. Barop
afterwards told me that he was frequently compelled to urge us to be
more gentle. Old Froebel regarded these meetings as means for coming
into unity with life. The same purpose was served by the form of our
intercourse with one another, the pedestrian excursions, and the many
incidents related by our teachers of their own lives, especially
the historical instruction which was connected with the history of
civilization and so arranged as to seek to make us familiar not only
with the deeds of nations and bloody battles, but with the life of the
human race.
In spite of, or on account of, the court of justice I have just
mentioned, there could be no informers among us, for Barop only half
listened to the accuser, and often sent him harshly from the room
without summoning the school-mate whom he accused. Besides, we ourselves
knew how to punish the sycophant so that he took good care not to act as
tale-bearer a second time.
MANNERS, AND FROEBEL’S KINDERGARTEN
The wives of the teachers had even more to do with our deportment than
the dancing-master, especially Frau Barop and her husband’s sister
Frau von Born, who had settled in Keilhau on account of having her sons
educated there.
The fact that the head-master’s daughters and several girls, who were
friends or relatives of his family, shared many of our lessons, also
contributed essentially to soften the manners of the young German
savages.
I mention our “manners” especially because, as I afterwards learned,
they had been the subject of sharp differences of opinion between
Friedrich Froebel and Langethal, and because the arguments of the former
are so characteristic that I deem them worthy of record.
There could be no lack of delicacy of feeling on the part of the founder
of the kindergarten system, who had said, “If you are talking with any
one, and your child comes to ask you about anything which interests
him, break off your conversation, no matter what may be the rank of the
person who is speaking to you,” and who also directed that the child
should receive not only love but respect. The first postulate shows
that he valued the demands of the soul far above social forms. Thus it
happened that during the first years of the institute, which he then
governed himself, he was reproached with paying too little attention to
the outward forms, the “behaviour,” the manners of the boys entrusted
to his care. His characteristic answer was: “I place no value on these
forms unless they depend upon and express the inner self. Where that
is thoroughly trained for life and work, externals may be left to
themselves, and will supplement the other.” The opponent admits this,
but declares that the Keilhau method, which made no account of outward
form, may defer this “supplement” in a way disastrous to certain pupils.
Froebel’s answer is: “Certainly, a wax pear can be made much more
quickly and is just as beautiful as those on the tree, which require
a much longer time to ripen. But the wax pear is only to look at, can
barely be touched, far less could it afford refreshment to the thirsty
and the sick. It is empty--a mere nothing! The child’s nature, it is
said, resembles wax. Very well, we don’t grudge wax fruits to any one
who likes them. But nothing must be expected from them if we are ill and
thirsty; and what is to become of them when temptations and trials
come, and to whom do they not come? Our educational products must mature
slowly, but thoroughly, to genuine human beings whose inner selves will
be deficient in no respect. Let the tailor provide for the clothes.”
Froebel himself was certainly very careless in the choice of his. The
long cloth coat in which I always saw him was fashioned by the village
tailor, and the old gentleman probably liked the garment because half
a dozen children hung by the tails when he crossed the court-yard.
It needed to be durable; but the well-fitting coats worn by Barop and
Langethal were equally so, and both men believed that the good gardener
should also care for the form of the fruit he cultivates, because, when
ripe, it is more valuable if it looks well. They, too, cared nothing
for wax fruits; nay, did not even consider them because they did not
recognize them as fruit at all.
Froebel’s conversion was delayed, but after his marriage it was all the
more thorough. The choice of this intellectual and kindly natured
man, who set no value on the external forms of life, was, I might say,
“naturally” a very elegant woman, a native of Berlin, the widow of
the Kriegsrath Hofmeister. She speedily opened Froebel’s eyes to the
aesthetic and artistic element in the lives of the boys entrusted to his
care--the element to which Langethal, from the time of his entrance into
the institution, had directed his attention.
So in Keilhau, too, woman was to pave the way to greater refinement.
This had occurred long before our entrance into the institution. Froebel
did not allude to wax pears now when he saw the pupils well dressed and
courteous in manner; nay, afterwards, in establishing the kindergarten,
he praised and sought to utilize the comprehensive influence upon
humanity of “woman,” the guardian of lofty morality. Wives and mothers
owe him as great a debt of gratitude as children, and should never
forget the saying, “The mother’s heart alone is the true source of the
welfare of the child, and the salvation of humanity.” The fundamental
necessity of the hour is to prepare this soil for the noble human
blossom, and render it fit for its mission.
To meet the need mentioned in this sentence the whole labour of the
evening of his life was devoted. Amid many cares and in defiance of
strong opposition he exerted his best powers for the realization of his
ideal, finding courage to do so in the conviction uttered in the saying,
“Only through the pure hands and full hearts of wives and mothers can
the kingdom of God become a reality.”
Unfortunately, I cannot enter more comprehensively here into the details
of the kindergarten system--it is connected with Keilhau only in so far
that both were founded by the same man. Old Froebel was often visited
there by female kindergarten teachers and pedagogues who wished to learn
something of this new institute. We called the former “Schakelinen”;
the latter, according to a popular etymology, “Schakale.” The odd name
bestowed upon the female kindergarten teachers was derived, as I learned
afterwards, from no beast of prey, but from a figure in Jean Paul’s
“Levana,” endowed with beautiful gifts. Her name is Madame Jacqueline,
and she was used by the author to give expression to his own opinions of
female education. Froebel has adopted many suggestions of Jean Paul, but
the idea of the kindergarten arose from his own unhappy childhood. He
wished to make the first five years of life, which to him had been a
chain of sorrows, happy and fruitful to children--especially to those
who, like him, were motherless.
Sullen tempers, the rod, and the strictest, almost cruel, constraint
had overshadowed his childhood, and now his effort was directed towards
having the whole world of little people join joyously in his favourite
cry, “Friede, Freude, Freiheit!” (Peace, Pleasure, Liberty), which
corresponds with the motto of the Jahn gymnasium, “Frisch, fromm,
frohlich, frei.”
He also desired to utilize for public instruction the educational
talents which woman undoubtedly possesses.
As in his youth, shoulder to shoulder with Pestalozzi, he had striven to
rear growing boys in a motherly fashion to be worthy men, he now wished
to turn to account, for the benefit of the whole wide circle of younger
children, the trait of maternal solicitude which exists in every woman.
Women were to be trained for teachers, and the places where children
received their first instruction were to resemble nurseries as closely
as possible. He also desired to see the maternal tone prevail in this
instruction.
He, through whose whole life had run the echo of the Saviour’s words,
“Suffer little children to come unto me,” understood the child’s nature,
and knew that its impulse to play must be used, in order to afford it
suitable future nourishment for the mind and soul.
The instruction, the activity, and the movements of the child should
be associated with the things which most interest him, and meanwhile it
should be constantly employed in some creative occupation adapted to its
intelligence.
If, for instance, butter was spoken of, by the help of suitable motions
the cow was milked, the milk was poured into a pan and skimmed, the
cream was churned, the butter was made into pats and finally sent to
market. Then came the payment, which required little accounts. When
the game was over, a different one followed, perhaps something which
rendered the little hands skilful by preparing fine weaving from strips
of paper; for Froebel had perceived that change brought rest.
Every kindergarten should have a small garden, to afford an opportunity
to watch the development of the plants, though only one at a time--for
instance, the bean. By watching the clouds in the sky he directed the
childish intelligence to the rivers, seas, and circulation of moisture.
In the autumn the observation of the chrysalis state of insects was
connected with that of the various stages of their existence.
In this way the child can be guided in its play to a certain creative
activity, rendered familiar with the life of Nature, the claims of the
household, the toil of the peasants, mechanics, etc., and at the same
time increase its dexterity in using its fingers and the suppleness of
its body. It learns to play, to obey, and to submit to the rules of the
school, and is protected from the contradictory orders of unreasonable
mothers and nurses.
Women and girls, too, were benefitted by the kindergarten.
Mothers, whose time, inclination, or talents, forbade them to devote
sufficient time to the child, were relieved by the kindergarten. Girls
learned, as if in a preparatory school of future wife and motherhood,
how to give the little one what it needed, and, as Froebel expresses it,
to become the mediators between Nature and mind.
Yet even this enterprise, the outcome of pure love for the most innocent
and harmless creatures, was prohibited and persecuted as perilous to
the state under Frederick William IV, during the period of the reaction
which followed the insurrection of 1848.