§ 115. In the process of education the interaction between pupil and
teacher must be so managed that the exposition by the teacher shall
excite in the pupil the impulse to reproduction. The teacher must not
treat his exposition as if it were a work of art which is its own end
and aim, but he must always bear in mind the need of the pupil. The
artistic exposition, as such, will, by its completeness, produce
admiration; but the didactic, on the contrary, will, through its perfect
adaptation, call out the imitative instinct, the power of new creation.
--From this consideration we may justify the frequent statement that is
made, that teachers who have really an elegant diction do not really
accomplish so much as others who resemble in their statements not so
much a canal flowing smoothly between straight banks, as a river which
works its foaming way over rocks and between ever-winding banks. The
pupil perceives that the first is considering himself when he speaks so
finely, perhaps not without some self-appreciation; and that the second,
in the repetitions and the sentences which are never finished, is
concerning himself solely with _him_. The pupil feels that not want of
facility or awkwardness, but the earnest eagerness of the _teacher_, is
the principal thing, and that this latter uses rhetoric only as a
means.--
§ 116. In the act of learning there appears (1) a mechanical element,
(2) a dynamic element, and (3) one in which the dynamic again
mechanically strengthens itself.
§ 117. As to the mechanical element, the right time must be chosen for
each lesson, an exact arrangement observed, and the suitable apparatus,
which is necessary, procured. It is in the arrangement that especially
consists the educational power of the lesson. The spirit of
scrupulousness, of accuracy, of neatness, is developed by the external
technique, which is carefully arranged in its subordinate parts
according to its content. The teacher must therefore insist upon it that
work shall cease at the exact time, that the work be well done, &c., for
on these little things many greater things ethically depend.
--To choose one's time for any work is often difficult because of the
pressure of a multitude of demands, but in general it should be
determined that the strongest and keenest energy of the thinking
activity and of memory--this being demanded by the work--should have
appropriated to it the first half of the day.--
§ 118. The dynamical element consists of the previously developed power
of Attention, without which all the exposition made by the teacher to
the pupil remains entirely foreign to him, all apparatus is dead, all
arrangement of no avail, all teaching fruitless, if the pupil does not
by his free activity receive into his inner self what one teaches him,
and thus make it his own property.
§ 119. This appropriation must not limit itself, however, to the first
acquisition of any knowledge or skill, but it must give free existence
to whatever the pupil has learned; it must make it perfectly manageable
and natural, so that it shall appear to be a part of himself. This must
be brought about by means of Repetition. This will mechanically secure
that which the attention first grasped.
§ 120. The careful, persistent, living activity of the pupil in these
acts we call Industry. Its negative extreme is Laziness, which is
deserving of punishment inasmuch as it passes over into a want of
self-determination. Man is by nature lazy. But mind, which is only in
its act, must resolve upon activity. This connection of Industry with
human freedom, with the very essence of mind, makes laziness appear
blameworthy. The really civilized man, therefore, no longer knows that
absolute inaction which is the greatest enjoyment to the barbarian, and
he fills up his leisure with a variety of easier and lighter work. The
positive extreme of Industry is the unreasonable activity which rushes
in breathless chase from one action to another, from this to that,
straining the person with the immense quantity of his work. Such an
activity, going beyond itself and seldom reaching deliberation, is
unworthy of a man. It destroys the agreeable quiet which in all industry
should penetrate and inspire the deed. Nothing is more repulsive than
the beggarly pride of such stupid laboriousness. One should not endure
for a moment to have the pupil, seeking for distinction, begin to pride
himself on an extra industry. Education must accustom him to use a
regular assiduity. The frame of mind suitable for work often does not
exist at the time when work should begin, but more frequently it makes
its appearance after we have begun. The subject takes its own time to
awaken us. Industry, inspired by a love and regard for work, has in its
quiet uniformity a great force, without which no one can accomplish
anything essential. The world, therefore, holds Industry worthy of
honor; and to the Romans, a nation of the most persistent perseverance,
we owe the inspiring words, "_Incepto tantum opus est, cætera res
expediet_"; and, "_Labor improbus omnia vincit_."
--"Every one may glory in his industry!" This is a true word from the
lips of a truly industrious man, who was also one of the most modest.
But Lessing did not, however, mean by them to charter Pharisaical
pedantry. The necessity sometimes of giving one's self to an excess of
work injurious to the health, generally arises from the fact that he has
not at other times made use of the requisite attention to the necessary
industry, and then attempts suddenly and as by a forced march to storm
his way to his end. The result of such over-exertion is naturally entire
prostration. The pupil is therefore to be accustomed to a generally
uniform industry, which may extend itself at regular intervals without
his thereby overstraining himself. What is really gained by a young man
who has hitherto neglected time and opportunity, and who, when
examination presses, overworks himself, perhaps standing the test with
honor, and then must rest for months afterwards from the over-effort? On
all such occasions attention is not objective and dispassionate, but
rather becomes, through anxiety to pass the examination, restless and
corrupted by egotism; and the usual evil result of such compulsory
industry is the ephemeral character of the knowledge thus gained.
"Lightly come, lightly go," says the proverb.--
--A special worth is always attached to study far into the night. The
student's "midnight lamp" always claims for itself a certain veneration.
But this is vanity. In the first place, it is injurious to contradict
Nature by working through the night, which she has ordained for sleep;
secondly, the question is not as to the number of hours spent in work
and their position in the twenty-four, but as to the quality of the
work. With regard to the value of my work, it is of no moment whatsoever
whether I have done it in the morning or in the evening, or how long I
have labored, and it is of no consequence to any one except to my own
very unimportant self. Finally, the question presents itself whether
these gentlemen who boast so much of their midnight work do not sleep in
the daytime!--
§ 121. But Industry has also two other extremes: seeming-laziness and
seeming-industry. Seeming-laziness is the neglecting of the usual
activity in one department because a man is so much more active in
another. The mind possessed with the liveliest interest in one subject
buries itself in it, and, because of this, cannot give itself up to
another which before had engrossed the attention. Thus it appears more
idle than it is, or rather it appears to be idle just because it is more
industrious. This is especially the case in passing from one subject of
instruction to another. The pupil should acquire such a flexibility in
his intellectual powers that the rapid relinquishment of one subject and
the taking up of another should not be too difficult. Nothing is more
natural than that when he is excited he should go back to the subject
that has just been presented to him, and that he, feeling himself
restrained, shall remain untouched by the following lesson, which may be
of an entirely different nature. The young soul is brooding over what
has been said, and is really exercising an intensive activity, though it
appears to be idle. But in seeming-industry all the external motives of
activity, all the mechanism of work, manifest themselves noisily, while
there is no true energy of attention and productivity. One busies
himself with all the apparatus of work; he heaps up instruments and
books around him; he sketches plans; he spends many hours staring into
vacancy, biting his pen, gazing at words, drawings, numbers, &c. Boys,
under the protection of so great a scaffolding for work erected around
them, often carry on their own amusements. Men, who arrive at no real
concentration of their force, no clear defining of their vocation, no
firm decision as to their action, dissipate their power in what is too
often a great activity with absolutely no result. They are busy, very
busy; they have hardly time to do this thing because they really wish or
ought to do that; but, with all their driving, their energy is all
dissipated, and nothing comes from their countless labors.