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THE APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY

TO THE

SCIENCE OF EDUCATION
THE

APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY

TO THE

SCIENCE OF EDUCATION

BY
JOHANN FRIEDRICH HERBART

Translated and Bdited

WITH NOTES
AND AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART

BY

BEATRICE C. MULLINER, B.A., Lonp.

LECTURER AT THE LADIES’ COLLEGE, CHELTENHAM

Wiitb a Preface by
DOROTHEA BEALE

PRINCIPAL OF THE LADIES’ COLLEGE, CHELTENHAM

 

WITH FIVE PLATES

NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1898

v
PREFACE

HAT do we owe to Herbart, and what is the

secret of the strange fascination which he
exercises over the educational thinkers of to-day in
Germany and America, and by which England is not
altogether untouched ?

Two things are usually cited as the legacy we owe
to him :—

1. Clearer views on the doctrine of apperception.
As his predecessor Kant, in opposition to the sensa-
tional school of Locke and Hume, insisted on the
necessary forms of thought, so has Herbart insisted on
the importance of the subjective in every apperception,
shown how every conception is modified by all
precedent experience, by the “content” of the per-
ceiving soul.

2. He has insisted on the unity of the Subject,
protesting against the mode of regarding the soul as
a collective noun, consisting of many faculties,
Herbart fixes our attention on the One rather than
onthe Many. He deprecates all the one-sided develop-
ments which mar the completeness of character.

As we study his psychology, however, we find there
vi PREFACE,

is much that will not fit into our universe of thought.
The great advance in science, especially in physiological
science, has much enlarged our knowledge of the
relation of the mind to the body, and we think at first
that it is impossible for us to follow him, or benefit by
his teaching.

But before we can understand Herbart, we have to
transport ourselves into a different thought-world. As
we cannot read Dante or Milton without a clear vision
of their cosmos, so neither can we follow the psychology
of Herbart without translating our conceptions into the
language of his thought; and then, though his poetic
figures are not ours, yet the truths expressed are
brought vividly before us by his imagery.

Taught by him, we learn to think of ideas not
as merely objective to the Ego, and of the Ego by a
dialectic process selecting the ideas, and assigning their
functions by the laws of logic; we also think of them
as active powers, the living offspring of the thinker.
We learn from him to think of the Ego building up
itself by constantly adding fresh contents; as giving
birth to conceptions, ideas, which become in some
sense real entities, an active environment dominating
the Ego, and in relation with which the Ego comes
to know itself; one is reminded of Kant’s words:
“Der Mensch macht die Natur.” Thus, at the basis of
Herbart’s system, lies the doctrine of apperception, and
we have to think of these ideas as forming, for good or
evil, the character of the Ego. At first, as we read
PREFACE. vii

‘about his ideas—objective as those of Plato—meeting,
contending, suppressing, attracting one another ;—as
we study what he calls mathematical psychology, we
feel as if we had gone back to an old-world mythology,
entered some Egyptian temple, where we see flitting
about mythological ghosts called ideas, which rise and
fall, contend and suppress one another, “vault” and
“taper.” These materialised conceptions remind us of
the sprites of the poets, which come into the dream-
world with their suggestions; but as we reflect, and
look into the darkness, we find this language of poetry
does express for us truths of experience. That which
we have received into the body of our thought does
live in us, helping us to form each new conception—
rising unbidden, by the laws of association, suppressing
other thoughts which we are striving to evoke, passing
below the “threshold of consciousness” into the dark-
ness, where we yet feel that it is, though we cannot
always call it up; and so we read on, and find
that the hieroglyphs of Herbart express for us in
mystic language truths of daily experience, truths
which religion, too, affirms, and which are full of
significance for the educator. Ideas do seem to have
an inherent vitality to present themselves unbidden,
and, if once received, to present themselves again and
again, fitting themselves into the soul environment,
which is our intellectual and moral universe. And
when we linger on, and seek to penetrate further into
these mysteries, we begin to see that Herbart’s 4 BC
vill PREFACE.

of Sense Perception and his Aisthetic Revelation of the
Universe bridge over the opposition between the Pure
and Practical Reason.

There is much too, to attract us in Herbart’s imagi-
native power. We find in him the intellectual subtlety
of Kant combined with the enthusiasm of Fichte, and
giving form to the practical philanthropy of Pestalozzi.t
We feel our intellectual and moral life quickened,
though we may not be able to live altogether in his
intellectual universe. The teacher, as he dwells upon
the psychology of Herbart, learns to recognise more
and more its pedagogical and ethical value. In the
region of thought the disciple of Herbart will not be
content till ideas have taken definite, clear shape for
the pupil. He will know that to see clearly we must
look intently; so he will first of all awaken interest,
he will associate each new thought with the already
existing mental content, and group all round a centre.

But he will not be satisfied with mere knowledge—
pure reason; thought is to give form to desire, and
desire pass over to action, and energise the will.
The moral self is the harmonizing unity which
correlates, supplements, formulates all that is given
in sense, which, brooding on the objective vision,
gives it a subjective life, so that it reacts upon its
maker.

And then we cannot but ask, as educators, if indeed

1 It is just a century ago, 1797, that the first meeting took place
between Herbart and Pestalozzi.
PREFACE. ix

we are each of us helping those whom we influence to
apperceive “the Alsthetic Revelation” of the world,
which is ever being made to the individual
and to the race, widening the horizons of those
who love the light, and making for righteousness.
The revelation is ever being made through sense and
through sympathy with kindred souls, not only in
the present, but in the records of the past, in the
history and sacred literature of the world. It is ours
to see that our children’s minds are furnished with
things pure and lovely, with noble ideals, above all,
with the vision of the ideal, the perfect manhood, the
fullest revelation of the Divine.

Herbart has carried on the work of Kant in several
directions. Kant showed us that the Ego must furnish
the forms of thought by which the energy communi-
cated through sense becomes an objective conception,
an idea; so Herbart has insisted that every act of
apperception is the outcome of the subjective energy,
giving form to sensation. Kant so changed the con-
ditions of thought, that we see no longer a meaning
in the question whether there is a boundary to space
and time; his life was too short to work out fully
the problems of Practical Reason which he suggested.
Herbart entered into his labours, and the moral self
formed the chief subject of his observations.

It would be contrary to the spirit of the Master if
we adopted his system as a complete whole. It is
because we think Herbart has laid a good foundation
x PREFACE,

that we desire educators should enter into his thought
and build on it, and the proof that it is based on truth
is, that several schools have been built upon these
foundations.

The “ methods of concentration” adopted by some of
his followers may seem to us fanciful and futile; they
were an advance on mere conglomerate methods, which
he so much condemns; there are, what I may perhaps
call organic methods, which commend themselves more
to the leaders of thought now; but these are not out
of harmony with Herbart’s principles.

The enormous progress made in physiological psy-
chology by means of histological research, especially the
valuable and important work initiated by Dr. Stanley
Hall at the Clarke University, has shown how large is
the field for exploration ; and the more the true theory
of apperception is studied, the more apparent will
become the marvellous adaptation of the intelligence
of man to the intelligible universe, the more the
relation of the individual to the universal. This book
of familiar and explanatory letters will help some
perhaps to a fuller insight into the teaching of
Herbart, than can be attained by the study of only
formal treatises.

The question often suggested itself to the translator,
whether that only should be given, which seemed to fit
into our schemes of thought to-day. But in the midst
of much that appears valueless to us now, there were
to be found suggestive thoughts which could not stand
PREFACE. xi

apart from the context, and it was finally decided to
give the letters as Herbart wrote them, and let
readers judge for themselves.

With Miss Mulliner’s comments and explanations,
this volume will, I hope, form a useful book for those
who come to it with a sufficient equipment of
philosophical ideas. The work of translation has
been a difficult one, and it has been thought best
to keep close to the text, even at some sacrifice of
English idiomatic structure. I am persuaded, how-
ever, that no complete translation into another lan-
guage, of systems of thought elaborated in Germany,
is possible for those who are unfamiliar with the
language and literature of that country.

We must have, so to speak, a “native ministry.’
The German thought-environment is different from
ours, and numberless allusions to what is supposed to
be known, escape us. America has given us valuable
translations and elucidations. I may mention especially
the works of De Garmo and Ufer, and Lange and Eckoff,
and we have an English translation by Felkin of the
Science of Education. We want, not translators only,
but English psychologists and philosophers to naturalise
the best thoughts of educational thinkers of the world,
translate them, not into our language only, but into
our forms of thought, adapt them to our environment.
Our philosophy and our religion grow from one root.
As the old poem expressed it, there grew in the
midst of the garden the tree with its two branches,
xii PREFACE.

the tree of life, and the tree of the knowledge of good
and evil.

Not until we have chairs such as those occupied by
Kant and Herbart, Rosencranz and Fichte and Lotze,
can we hope, that men with such powers of thought,
will be able to find the leisure and intellectual
surroundings which will make it possible for them
to accomplish this work for us. Such a literature is
beginning to go up in Scotland and England. We
have Ward and Laurie, and Sully and Findlay, but we
are far behind America and Germany.

The tide against which many of us have been
rowing has at last turned; the old empiricism, which
declared there was no such thing as a science and
philosophy of education, speaks no longer with so
loud a voice; the demand for thoughtful works is
increasing, and will increase, and then precious time
will be saved, and minds and wills will be better
disciplined, and we shall realise more that the know-
ledge of the truth, and obedience to God’s law, is
perfect freedom.
TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE

A the publication of his great series of works
on mental and moral science, Herbart might
well have thought that he had discharged for ever
his debt to psychology. But his keen interest in
education, and the desire to make scientific use of
the practical experience gained in his school at
Kénigsberg, induced him to resume his psychological
studies. The result was the work before us. The
Letters on the Application of Psychology to the Science
of Education were addressed to Friedrich Karl
Griepenkerl, a friend of many years’ standing, who
had been engaged in practical educational work with
Fellenberg at Hofwyl, and now held the post of
Professor at Carolina in Braunschweig. Unfortunately
the letters are unfinished. Herbart discontinued the
work when his removal from Kénigsberg to Gottingen,
and the consequent closing of his school, deprived him
of the field of experience whence it had grown. That
he had quite given up the idea of its completion and
publication is clear from the fact that he has used
whole passages from it elsewhere, especially in the
second edition of his Yext-Book of Psychology.
Xiv TRANSLATORS PREFACE.

Of the existing thirty-five letters the three first
form the Introduction, in which, after stating their
object, Herbart brings out briefly the nature and
threefold task of psychological education ; then, after
otherwise expressing satisfaction with the improve-
ment in schools since the beginning of the century, he
deplores the neglect of the necessary study of the
individual capacity of the pupil, and insists on the
necessity of home training, as contrasted with the form
of State education desired by Fichte. The remaining
thirty-two letters deal with the many-sided individual
capacity for culture in the pupil. This is demonstrated
both as regards “Innate Differences” (Letters iv.—xxix.)
and “Differences which are acquired” (Letters xxx.—
xxxv.). The former may be divided thus: differences
of a purely psychological kind, iv.-ix.; those which
concern physiology and psychology, x.-xiii.; the purely
psychological, xiv.—xxix.

The translator would specially thank Miss Beale,
not only for unvarying kindness and help throughout
the progress of the work, but also for her valuable
Preface, showing the importance of the study of
Herbart in England.

Many thanks are also due to Dr. Rein, of Jena,
for information and assistance with regard to difficult
points in Herbartian theory.

The translator would take this opportunity of ex-
pressing her gratitude to Miss Rose Seaton and Miss
Lupton, of the Ladies’ College, Cheltenham, without
TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE. xv

whose kind aid a somewhat laborious task would
scarcely have been possible.

Many thanks are also due to Mr. Sydney Herbert
for the illustrations of the culture epochs, and to
Fraulein Clara Burz, of Bonn, for her careful revision
of the translation.

B. C. M.

Tue Lapigs’ CoLLEGE, CHELTENHAM.
November, 1897.
ANALYSIS OF THE LETTERS

InrRODUCTORY 3 ‘ . Letters i,-iii.
The many-sided and ‘ndivianal capacity
for culture in the pupil . é . » —soAV.-XXXV.
Part I,
Innate DIFFERENCES. ; 85 iv.-xxix.
Section A. Physiological Defences : 3 iv.—ix.
»  B. Physio-Psychological ,, » KX Xi.
» ©. Psychological sy 39 xiv,—-xxix,
(i.) Immediate or direct
Reproduction.
(ii.) Mediate or indirect
Reproduction.
Part II.

AcquirED DirrERENCES F

XXX.—-XXXV.
INTRODUCTION
TO THE STUDY OF HERBART

CHAPTER I.
HERBART AND HIS SCHOOL.

“ Hitherto,
At present (and a weary while to come),
The office of ourselves . . . has been

For the worst of us—to say, they so have seen ;
For the better—what it was they saw ; the best
Impart the gift of seeing to the rest.”—RoBERT BROWNING.

“There is nothing more divine than Education.”—PLato.

OHANN FRIEDRICH HERBART was born at

Oldenburg, in North Germany, on the 4th of May,
1776. His father, Thomas Gerhard Herbart, a lawyer
and privy councillor of the town, was a reserved,
silent man of somewhat phlegmatic temperament. His
mother, Lucie Margarethe Schiitte, a woman of re-
markable individuality and keen intellect, exercised
no small influence on the career of her only child.
Regarded by those who did not know her as odd and
eccentric, she nevertheless arranged for her son’s
education with the utmost care. It was she who
selected his tutor, took part in his lessons, and learnt
Greek herself that she might the better sympathize
with his interests. From the first the boy showed
extraordinary ability. His. retentive memory and

6
XVili INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

aptitude for mathematics and philosophy were some
of the earliest signs of future greatness. The study
of Logic begun at eleven years of age, of Metaphysics
at twelve, and an original essay on Human Freedom
at fourteen, give us a fair idea of the precocious,
brilliant child who was destined to occupy not un-
worthily the chair of Kant at Kdénigsberg. The
concluding words of this essay on Freedom show to
what an extent the child was father of the man: “ It
is contrary to all philosophy to reject an argument
against which we have nothing to urge.”

At Easter, in 1794, Herbart entered the University
of Jena, then the centre of the philosophic life of
Germany. Nominally he came to study jurisprudence
at his father’s wish; but the innate bent was too strong,
and the youth became the enthusiastic disciple of
Fichte, who had just been appointed to the vacant
chair of philosophy.

In 1797, through his mother’s influence, he left Jena
before his course was completed, and became private
tutor to the three sons of Herr von Steiger-Reggisberg,
Governor of Interlaken. Ludwig, Karl, and Rudolf
von Steiger, aged respectively fourteen, ten, and eight
years, were left entirely in the hands of the young
tutor, their father merely requiring that a letter should
be written to him every two months reporting their
progress. Karl von Steiger grew up Herbart’s devoted
friend and disciple.

This very important period came to an end in 1799,
when, partly on account of his mother’s illness, partly
through political considerations, Herbart left Switzer-
land for Bremen, that he might study philosophy, and
thus qualify for a university chair. In 1799 he had
visited Pestalozzi at Burgdorf, and from 1801 begins
the publication of his various works on philosophy,
psychology, and education. A list of the more im-
portant of these will be found in Chart I,
HERBART AND HIS SCHOOL. xix

In May, 1802, having taken his Doctor’s degree, he
entered upon academic work at Gdéttingen, and his
lectures and writings on philosophy and education
began to attract increasing attention. In 1809, how-
ever, he was at last offered the chair of philosophy
which Kant had occupied at Kénigsberg. Here he
spent the next twenty-four years of his life in
constant intellectual activity, lecturing and writing
for an increasing circle of adherents.

One of the chief events in this period is his mar-
riage in 1811 to a young English girl, Mary Drake,
whose father, at one time a wealthy merchant, had
been almost ruined by the war. The union was a
singularly happy one, and the intellectual sympathy
and peace which Herbart found in his own home
give point to his strong arguments in favour of the
maintenance of family ties.

In addition to the publication of a succession of
important works on psychology, Herbart carried out
in Kénigsberg his long-cherished plan for the establish-
ment of a training college for teachers, in which
students could practically apply the theories learned
in the class-room.

The undertaking aroused so much interest, that the
Prussian Minister of Education, Wilhelm von
Humboldt, authorized him to procure an assistant
in his work at a yearly salary of 200 thalers (£30),
The pupils were taught for sixteen hours a week by
four students. Herbart himself took the mathematical
lessons, and the classical course he had devised for
the von Steigers was carried out with great success.
In 1833 the action of the Government towards the
University of Kénigsberg made Herbart anxious for
a sphere of greater freedom, and he accepted the offer
of a lectureship at Gottingen. His fame had preceded
him, and he had an enthusiastic reception. Light
more years were thus spent in the usual round of
xx INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

successful university work and the writing of certain
important treatises.

Early in August, 1841, though apparently in perfect
health, he told a friend, with a strange accent of
certainty, that he should not live much longer. On
the 9th he gave his usual lectures to the students
with all the old power and brilliancy. The next
evening he spent with his family, and they specially
noticed the cheerful kindliness which of late years
had never left him. At three o’clock in the early
morning of August 11th, he died almost instantaneously;
and a few days later, in the deepest grief, the students
carried to the grave the body of their beloved master.

By far the most remarkable feature of Herbart’s
character was his passion for truth. Faithful to his
home, his work, his friends, he was above all faithful
to his ideals; and the feeling of his contemporaries,
expressed in the lines on the marble cross which
marks his tomb, will be shared by the student of
his works:

“Der Wahrheit bell ge Tiefen zu durchdringen,
Fir Menschen wohl mit Freudigkeit zu ringen,
War seines Strebens Ziel ; nun ruh’hier seine Hille,
Nun schaut sein freier Geist des Lichtes Fiille.”

He may have erred in some points, he may have
failed in others—who has not? But he used faith-
fully a noble intellect for the good of his fellows,
and made ready a path which has been successfully
trodden by others. We have entered into his labours;
_ he has passed on to the clearer vision of the truth
which he loved.

Such is a brief sketch of the somewhat uneventful
life of the author of the Letters.

It is more important for us to inquire into the
position which Herbart holds in the world’s thought,

1 Further details will be found in a work by G, A. Hennig
(Siegismund and Volkening, Leipzig),
HERBART AND HIS SCHOOL. xxi

and the claims which his teaching has on our attention
at the present moment. A glance at Chart II. will
explain the atmosphere of tumult and intellectual
restlessness which surrounded the young philosopher.

In 1776 the ill-fated Louis XVI. had been two
years on the throne of France, and a reserved boy
of inflexible will was growing up in Corsica whose
name was Napoleon Bonaparte. In 1789, the year
that Herbart became a schoolboy at the Gymnasium
of Oldenburg, men were startled by the first thunders
of the French Revolution. His last school year was
that of the Reign of Terror in France. In 1799,
when he began to study philosophy at Bremen,
Napoleon became first Consul; and soon after this,
out of his small yearly stipend, Herbart was com-
pelled to contribute 1500 frances for war expenses.

In 1806, at the battle of Jena, on the very hill
above the University, Napoleon annihilated the Prus-
sian army. Nine years later the cause of Liberty was
saved by his crushing defeat at Waterloo.

Such, then, was the Europe of that day, a world
indeed of excitement and revolution. Other men
were swept away by the current. Fichte, an idealistic
philosopher, was the very firebrand of German
patriotism. Froebel fought as a soldier in the cam-
paign of 1813 against Napoleon. Pestalozzi was
fighting the social misery of the time, for it was he,
who, in 1798, after the massacre by the French at
Stanz, came to the rescue and gathered the orphans
under his care.

Herbart seems to have lived apart from the political
turmoil; “the spectres he fought were those of the
mind.” His life-work was to equip the future leaders
of thought, and the environment which really affected
him was that of the intellect.

The Chart shows that in 1762 Emile had been
published by Rousseau; in 1774 the Philanthropinum
XXli INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

had been founded by Basedow; from 1775 to 1780
Pestalozzi was the “saviour of the poor” at Neuhof.
Above all, in 1781 a quiet, methodical professor,
already past middle age, unexpectedly brought out a
new book which has revolutionized the world of
philosophy. The writer was Immanuel Kant; the
work was The Critic of Pure Reason. The result was
that almost every chair of philosophy was soon filled
by Kantists, and Gottlieb Fichte, Herbart’s revered
teacher at Jena, was an enthusiastic admirer of “the
Sage of Konigsberg.”

For Herbart’s relation to Kant the reader is referred
to the Introduction, pp. xxxiii-xxxvii. With regard to
the Pestalozzian movement, Professor De Garmo has
pointed out that any great reform of this kind is
emotional rather than scientific in its early stages.
Divine enthusiasm is what moves men long before
the time comes for exact and logical thought. Besides,
there was no psychology at that time on which
Pestalozzi could have founded his system, for Kant
had not been able to carry his investigations into the
practical side of experience. The Pestalozzian reform,
then, had to do with the heart rather than with the
head. “Like an impetuous leader with an army before
a river, Pestalozzi does not wait to build a bridge,
but bids all rush in. Many get over, yet some are
lost, and all are wet.” A great threefold task was
then before Herbart :—

1. He had first to develop a psychology which
could be used in the practical problems of teaching.

2. He had to scientifically apply this psychology
to education by means of his doctrine of apperception.

3. He had to perfect the work of Pestalozzi by
bringing unity into the systems of the past. In a
word, he had to give a scientific basis to what had
as yet been merely empirical.

1 Dre Garmo, Great Educators, Herbart, p. 6.
HERBART AND HIS SCHOOL. xxiii

As regards the first, we note the following state-
ment by Professor Ward in the Encyclopedia
Britannica: “For exactness and penetration of
thought Herbart is quite on a level with Hume and
Kant. We are most indebted to him for the enormous
advance psychology has been enabled to make.”

His claim to have accomplished the two last rests
on his theory of education which will be discussed
later. (See chapter ii.)

In concluding this part of the subject, the question
arises, what has been the practical outcome of Herbart’s
life-work? His own training college for teachers in
K6onigsberg was in existence from 1810 until his
departure for Géttingen in 1833. Early in the year
1832 one of his pupils, Heinrich Gustav Brzoska, came
to the University of Jena, and in 1836 attracted con-
siderable attention by publishing a book, entitled The
Necessity for a Pedagogical Seminary, and its Proper
Organization. The author’s early death in 1839 pre-
vented the carrying out of the undertaking. In his
place, however, in the summer of 1843, when the
cause of educational training in Jena seemed well-nigh
hopeless, a young lecturer, Dr. Karl Volkmar Stoz,
came forward with all the enthusiasm of youth, and
founded among his students an educational society,
which was to combine theoretic discussion with
practical exercises. He had himself gone through the
theoretical work of the Herbartian school, and his
capacity as a practical teacher had been tested in the
Benderschen Educational Institute at Weinheim.

The formal opening of the Seminar-School took
place on December 9th, 1844. In 1858, the 300th
anniversary of the inauguration of the University of
Jena, some new buildings were secured, and the name
of the Johann Friedrich School.was adopted in memory
of the great Elector. On the death of Dr. Stoz, on
January 23rd, 1885, the activity of the Seminar was
xxiv INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

for a time interrupted. But the many difficulties were
at last overcome, and the work began again with re-
newed vigour in October, 1886, under Dr. Rein. Since
then the circle of interest has been steadily widening,
and the visitors and students at Jena are now gathered
from all parts of the world. The spirit of the Seminar
is opposed to demanding from anyone slavish imitation
or subjection to a set of rules. It prefers to send its
members forth on their different paths, that each in his
own way may seek truth, and contribute his share
towards the solution of the countless problems of
education. Its one watchword is :—

“Tn necessariis unitas,

In dubiis libertas,
In omnibus caritas.”

The 130 members of the holiday course held at
Jena this year (1897), in August, represented fourteen
different nations. Germany took the lead in point of
numbers, but England, France, Belgium, America,
Norway, Sweden, Australia, Hungary, Switzerland,
Denmark, Servia, and even New Zealand, sent repre-
sentatives to a friendly international conference of an
almost unique type. The lectures were on various
subjects, including theology, art, literature, and science,
but interest seemed to centre round those given by Dr.
Rein on the general science of education. Lectures on
practical pedagogy, illustrated by specimen lessons to
different classes of boys, were delivered by Herr
Lehmensick, the head-master of the Jena Practising
School. So great was the interest aroused, that Dr.
Rein convened a special evening meeting for educa-
tional discussion, at which the position of the modern
Herbartian school was more clearly defined.

o the students of modern Herbartianism. The educational interest

‘ 1 A pilgrimage to Thuringia cannot be too strongly recommended
of Jena is increased by the unique surroundings. The quaint
HERBART AND HIS SCHOOL. xXXV

The Pedagogic Seminar of the University of Jena
deserves special notice. Its aim is the development
of the Science of Education. It is connected with
the Professorship of Pedagogics at the University,
and has also a practising school, in which students
teach under the direction of the Master of Method.
Membership in the Seminar may be of three kinds :—

1. The “ Hospitanten,” or bye-students, who attend
the Professor’s lectures, and also any lessons which
they like to select in the practising school.

2. Special members, who are expected to take part
in the theoretical work, the criticism of lessons, reports
of school anniversaries, examinations, expeditions, ete.

3 Ordinary members, who, in addition, undertake
to teach some subjects in the practising school for at
least a term, subject to the supervision and criticism of
the class teacher.

No special period of residence is enforced, but not
less than a year is recommended, as otherwise little
benefit can be obtained.

As regards the progress of Herbartian principles in
other places, Hisenach might be mentioned and its
Karolinen Schule for girls. There are some 200 pupils
at present in this school, and attached to it is a train-

medieval town, with its narrow streets, grey walls, and venerable
tower, affords a striking contrast to the modern ways of a holiday
course, and this year the past and present seemed indeed to blend
in the entertainment given for the first time by English ladies to
their fellow-members in the Schiller Garden. The curious survivals
of medieval student-life may also be seen at Jena almost better than
in any other German University; amongst these the “Carcer”—where
the students suffer a mild imprisonment for trifling misdemeanours,
and where they while away the hours by the most remarkable drawing
in coloured chalk on wall and ceiling—must not be overlooked.

Once in Thuringia, Eisenach, with its exquisite scenery and im-
portant Herbartian school, can be visited. It should be noted that
the greatest courtesy is shown_to foreigners in- these institutions.
Visitors are permitted to attend Classes, and are given every facility
for obtaining information regarding the working and curriculum of the
schools, fh

~
XXV1 INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

ing department for women teachers under Director
Ackermann. Herbartian training schools also exist
in Gotha, Weimar, Schwabach (Niirnberg), Kaiser-
slautern (Bavaria Palatinate), Karlsruhe (Baden), and
Chur (Switzerland). Another thoroughly Herbartian
school for girls is that at Altenburg, where there are
some 200 pupils under Dr. Karl Juste.

There are also several influential societies in
Germany and elsewhere formed with the object of
furthering the science of education as explained by
Herbart. The following are worthy of notice :—

1. In Vienna, under Dr. Vogt, Professor of the
University. This has 650 members, and a fairly
extensive literature of its own.

2. In Thuringia, under Professor Rein in Jena;
number of members, 330.

3. In the districts about the Rhine and Westphalia,
under Rector Horn; number of members, 847.

4, In the United States, under Professor de Garmo,
of Swarthmore College; number of members, 2000.

Besides these, many smaller societies exist in various
parts of Europe and America, and in the latter
especially the movement is very strongly supported.

The following quotation from the preface of Dr.
Eckoff’s recent translation of Herbart’s A BC of Sense
Perception is worthy of attention :—

“We live in the beginnings of another educational
reform—the Herbartian. . . . Many who know our public
school system best and love it most are persuaded that
Herbartianism is the proper solution for the difficulties of
to-day. . . . It is hardly possible to attend an educational
gathering of fair pretensions to magnitude or dignity
without hearing Herbart’s name at least. ... American
educators have begun to live, move, and have their being
in an atmosphere of Herbartianism. It is coming to be
the pedagogic spirit of the times.”
HERBART AND HIS SCHOOL. XXVii

Thus the English student returns from America and
Germany fired with fervent enthusiasm for Herbart;
and, like a true disciple, thirsting for knowledge at the
fountain-head, he invests in the somewhat ponderous
works of the great master. He knows Bartolomai’s
words, “No philosopher has surpassed Herbart in the
lucidity of his classic style, or paid more devoted
homage to the genius of the German language”; and
he has read the preface to the Levana, where Jean Paul
Richter speaks of Herbart’s “exquisite and alluring
language.” Expectation runs high; the mental appetite
is keen. Alas for his feelings! He begins with the
two volumes of the pedagogical works and plods
patiently through a few pages, but he is stopped at
every turn. He thought, perhaps, he knew German,
but he rises from Herbart a sadder and a wiser
man. There are words used with unusual meanings,
psychological terms of peculiar difficulty; involved
constructions, which are only the more annoying be-
cause their very convolutions suggest that herein lies
the pith of the whole argument. Difficulties also of
another kind arise. The hapless student with sore
labour has mastered a paragraph, and thinks gaily that
now the goal is surely in sight. Alas again for his
delusion! Herbart remarks in the next paragraph
that this particular subject is quite clear from a passage
in his philosophical or psychological works, and there-
fore needs no further explanation now!

“ Exquisite and alluring language!” The Englishman
wonders whether some hidden analogy exists between
mental and physical digestion, and whether the former,
like the latter, is more robust in his German brother
than in himself! A frank English critic once said even
of a translation, “ Sit down to it and you are dismayed”;
but he also added, “Glance through it, and you are
delighted with the wisdom it contains.”

It is best to face things as they are. We can never
XXVili INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

say Herbart’s is an easy, popular style, at least to the
English taste. It was said of Kant that when lecturing
he kept his eye on some particular student, and judged
by his face if the lecture were clear. One is tempted
to wish that the blank faces of some of his readers
could have haunted Herbart. But we must remember
that those readers were not his first care; he wrote in
the intervals of leisure in a busy university life, for,
and to, men of his own type, who understood his
language,—deep-thinking, keenly intellectual German
students, disciples of Fichte, and followers of Kant;
men who were, perhaps, careless of style, but who
were ready for any problem, however abstruse. To
such hearers an allusion was sufficient, a rapid tran-
sition inspiriting, a lengthy explanation dull. What
has been the result? In K6nigsberg the crowds who
attended his lectures could not find room to sit in the
auditorium. He died in 1841, but was scarcely more
than a name in England till 1892. At the present
day the English public is beginning to know Herbart
second-hand, %e., through his modern disciples, for
people are content to hear lectures and read “Intro-
ductions” and “ Reviews” on this subject. But there
must be a more excellent way. “Some books,” said
Bacon, “are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and
some few to be chewed and digested.” If we “taste”
Herbart we shall probably, like the above-mentioned
critic, be delighted with the words of wisdom contained
therein; yet we must remember Bacon’s further warn-
ing, “Some books ... may be read by deputy, and
extracts made of them by others; but that would be
only in the less important arguments and the meaner
sort of books; else distilled books are like common
distilled waters—flashy things.”

If we “swallow” Herbart (Bacon presumably meant
whole), mental indigestion is undoubtedly imminent, at
least to the English constitution. The third is really
HERBART AND HIS SCHOOL. xxix

the only safe plan. But how is it to be done? If we
are looking into these writings expecting a new land
of promise, where all is distinct and clear and orderly,
where the high roads are made, the country mapped
out, and the villages classified, we must inevitably be
disappointed; and in the work before us Herbart
himself warns us against hoping for anything of the
kind. But if we are willing to accompany a dis-
coverer who circumnavigates an unfamiliar coast, to
use the strong glasses of his intellect to explore dim
vistas of beauty, to trace the courses of rivers to
unknown springs, to catch his spirit of adventure,
which, bound by no narrow rules, presses on to the
heights of Truth, aye, if we are willing even to follow
Goethe’s advice—

“Gib dich an einen Meister hin
Mit ihm zu irren ist dir Gewinn,”

then we need have no fear. There is a curious passage
in point in Herbart’s own Science of Hducation. He is
describing an “impressive ” moment in a lesson :—

“The teacher retires into himself, tears himself free by
force as from a false relationship, which seems to mock him,
or he comes out of himself and rises above the trivial,
which was too narrow for him. The pupil sees the torn
threads lying; whilst musing over it the right principle
or the true means begin to appear indistinctly before him,
and when he is ready to seize and restore them the teacher
hastens to meet him, dissipates the darkness, helps to unite
what is severed, to smooth difficulties, and to strengthen the
wavering.”

In other words, the first great secret of Herbart’s
power is his suggestiveness, He never meant to bind
men by hard and fast rules, and the ablest of his
present disciples utterly disclaim the idea. Rather,
like Socrates, he would suggest new paths for us to
Xxx INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART,

try. He bids us share his tentative efforts. He shows
us frankly the torn threads which once impeded him.
He would awake in us his own “apperceptive investi-
gating interest,” and we must confess that the history
of the Herbartian school is itself the greatest example
of his success. Herbart himself would be the last
to expect us to hold all his theories now, though
there is often a strange interest attaching to those
we discard! and there is much to be learnt even
from the mistakes of an intellectual pioneer.

Secondly, besides the suggestiveness of Herbart’s
writings which every persevering student can find out
for himself, we are undoubtedly indebted to him for
bringing into prominence certain grand principles
which form the real basis of all good teaching. It
is above all things necessary that we should keep
these in mind as we read the letters before us.

It is the main object of the present introduction to
give a brief summary of these great thoughts on which
Herbartianism rests.

A special lesson has been added as a practical illus-
tration of the Formal Steps. It is.an application of
Herbartian principles to a purely English subject, viz.,
the story in Spenser’s Faerie Queen of the encounter
between the “ Knight of Holiness” and “ Despair,”

1 Among the latter we would mention parts of a chapter in his
Psychology on the ‘‘ Destiny of Man.” ith the conviction of im-
mortality in his mind, he pictures the possibilities of ‘‘the play of
the psychical mechanism,” and the calming of the soul after death ;
and we seem to read between the lines of scientific reasoning the old
longing of the race for peace ‘‘ after life’s fitful fever.”
CHAPTER II.

THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION,

SECTION A.
THE AIM IN VIEW.

‘* Sacrifice is offered for and to
Something conceived of.
An ignorance of means may minister
To greatness, but an ignorance of aims
Makes it impossible to be great at all.”
E. B. BRrownine.

‘*How much the more thou knowest, and how much the better
thou understandest, so much the more grievously shalt thou there-
fore be judged, unless thy life be also more holy.”

TuHomAs A KEMPIs,

“Unto man He said, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom ;
and to depart from evil is understanding.”—Book of Job,

EN have set up strangely different aims for
education. Rousseau would above all things
teach his pupil to live? Yet, as Herbart sarcastically
remarks, “ Evidently life is not the highest good,” for
in the Hmile the whole of the tutor’s valuable life is
to be sacrificed to the one pupil.

Again, Locke would above all things educate the
boy into “a gentleman,” a conventional man of the
world. Well, says Herbart, one can say nothing to
this: “Buy, at any price, a trustworthy man of refined
habits as your tutor; you may succeed. The world
is in league with the worldly.”

1 “ Vivre est le métier que je lui veux apprendre,”
Xxxj
XXXll INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

Herbert Spencer has severely criticised his con-
temporaries. He points out that in order of time
decoration precedes dress, and that “men dress their
children’s minds as they do their bodies, in the
prevailing fashion.” As the Orinoco Indian puts on
paint before leaving his hut, not with a view to any
direct benefit, but because he would be ashamed to
be seen without it, so a boy’s drilling in Latin and
Greek is insisted on, not because of their intrinsic
value, but that he may not be disgraced by being
found ignorant of them, that he may have “the
education of a gentleman.” True, but what does
Spencer suggest as a better aim? He repeats the
maxim of Rousseau: “How to live: that is the
essential question for us. To prepare us for complete
living is the function which education has to dis-
charge.” But what is complete living? Some men
have felt Spencer’s ideal life of prosperity a failure
and a delusion, and have echoed the words of the
philosopher poet, that the grandest life is much rather
“Energy of Love,’—

“Divine or human, exercised in pain,
In strife and tribulation, and ordained,
If so approved and sanctified, to pass
Whee shades and silent rest to endless joy.”

But this is self-sacrifice, not Utilitarianism, and we
are left as much in the dark as ever. The formal aims
quoted by Dr. Rein are too indefinite, as, for example,
the maxim of Goethe:! “Educate the pupil to in-
dependence,” or “educate the pupil to be his own
educator ;” or again, that of Hector for Astyanax :?
“Educate the child so that he will become better than
his educator.”

Herbart’s doctrine in contrast to all these is simple
and clear. “The one problem, the whole problem, of

1 Hermann and Dorothea. 2 Tliad.-
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. xXXXiii

education may be comprised in a single concept— /
morality.” Psychology does indeed furnish us with a
basis for pedagogy, but it is to ethics that we must
look for its aim ; and thus “ Erziehender Unterricht,” or,
as the Americans translate it,—“the instruction that
makes for character,” has become the leading watchword .
of the Herbart school.

Herbart further explains his meaning thus: “By
forming the character we mean this or nothing—we
lead the pupil to realize his own free personality in
choosing the good and refusing the evil.” This
definition leads at once to the question——What is
good? Granted that ethics is to furnish the aim,
what system of ethics do we propose to adopt? Can
we agree with the Utilitarians, and judge an act by
its consequences? Henry V., on the eve of the
battle of Agincourt, is represented by Shakespeare
as defending himself against an accusation of this
kind. A soldier charges the king with the guilt of
all the horrors of war. “Nay,” answers Henry, “every
subject’s duty is the king’s, but every subject’s soul
is his own.” Bad men may meet sudden death in
battle, but that cannot make the king’s action in
declaring war blameworthy. The carelessness which
lost a sovereign in the street saved a despairing
creature from suicide. The honest pilot was misled
by a wrecker’s light, and he steered 500 men to their
death. But evil cannot be good, nor good, evil. What
is goodness ?

Herbart echoes Kant’s grand reply to this ques-
tion when he says in his Metaphysics: “There is*
nothing in the whole world, or indeed out of it, of
which we can conceive, which can be taken without
limitation as good, except the goodwill.” “Neither
knowledge, nor goods, nor external actions are good in
themselves... .. It must be the person’s own will,
developed by insight into the absolutely binding

e
XxXxiv INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

validity of the moral law, or the absolute beauty of
the moral ideal.” ?

Moral judgment, then, can only really be passed on
acts done consciously as the expression of will; and
the will is liable to censure or praise, even when the
action quite fails to be its true expression. Savonarola,
when tortured, recanted in his delirium that which he
believed to be the truth, but we pass no moral censure
on him, and his unflinching death in the market-place
of Florence confirms our judgment. When Dante is
ascending through the rolling spheres of the Paradiso
he sees the form of a nun, Piccarda Donati, who had
apparently been forced to break her vows. He wonders
that her place is not higher, since she could not help it
that they dragged her from the cloister’s shade. Why,
then, in this lower moonlight, not untouched by the
shadow of earth? But Beatrice answers him :—

“ These souls no real violence sustained,
Since will unwilling is not to be quenched ;

But, like to fire, persists incessantly,
Though thousand times by violence it be wrenched.”?

So Piccarda must be left in the dim heaven of
imperfect wills, because perfect Justice knew it might
have been otherwise.

The next difficulty is the choice of an ethical
standard. In what does the goodness of the will
ultimately consist? We now get three widely- dif-
ferent standpoints with regard to the ethical concept,
which Dr. Rein has thus tabulated :—

Ethical Concept.
ae

 

1. Hedonism. 2. Culture. 3. Morality.
Concept of Pleasure, ( Concept of Culture ( Concept of Principle
(or Perfection). (Gesinnung).
Feeling. Thinking. Willing.
Enjoyment. Work. Service,

1 Ren. 2 Paradise, iv.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. XXXV

1. We may say with Mill, actions are right in
proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong
in proportion as they tend to produce misery. Happi-
ness, then, is “our being’s end and aim,” and the
army of martyrs and heroes really died merely because
they preferred the more refined spiritual happiness to
that derived from a lower source; and the saints of the
earth are they who have adjusted the balance most
finely between the pleasures of time and the joys of
heaven.

Bentham was right, then, when he said, “ We are
under two great masters, pleasure and pain; it is for
a alone to determine what we ought to do.”

Again, we may say actions are right or wrong
as - tend towards culture. As Hedonism was in
the main egotistical and individual, so culture or
perfection is social, and has regard for the progress
of the whole. Aristotle is one of the greatest repre-
sentatives of this view. According to him the chief
good for man is to be found in the actuality of his
powers according to their own proper law of excel-
lence; and it consists chiefly in the evocation of his
highest faculty, the reason. Thus the greatest happi-
ness is to be found in contemplation and speculative
thought. The joys of the philosopher are beyond
compare; a satisfaction of an inferior kind is to be
found in the exercise of the moral virtues:

“Moral development and the realization of our powers
(évépyera) require as external conditions a settled com-
munity, social habits, the restraints and protection of laws,
and a wisely-regulated system of public education. Man is
by nature a political creature, he cannot isolate himself
without becoming either less or more than man.”!

Spinoza answered the question, as to the chief good
for man, in much the same way :—

1 Encyclo, Brit., article on “ Aristotle.”
XXXVi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

“The highest good is to arrive at a state consisting in the
knowledge of the union which the mind has with the whole
of nature, and to be able to enjoy that state in common with
other individuals.”

3. Lastly, we may believe with Kant and Herbart
that morality does not consist in a series of truths or
rules relative to an end, such as perfection or happiness
for oneself or people in general, but rather in truths
which are independent and absolute in their character.
The mere recognition that I ought to do this is the only
adequate reason why I should do it; if I do it from
any other motive the action is not truly moral. As
Herbart expresses it :—

.* “The goodwill is good, not through that which it
 effectuates or does, or through its fitness to attain a pre-
scribed aim, but solely in virtue of the willing, ze., it is
good in itself.”

One more difficult question must be dealt with, and
it is important, because here Kant and Herbart differ.
What is the origin of this sense of obligation in my
inmost consciousness? Whence comes it that I so per-
sistently feel I ought to do this and refrain from that ?

Kant’s well-known theory was, that wherever man
is found he possesses certain intuitions about right and
wrong, that these are universal and binding in them-
selves, and are the command of pure reason to the will.
Man is free to choose to obey them or not. A will in
harmony with them is alone truly moral. This, then,
is the famous “categorical imperative,” as opposed to
any hypothetical command which prescribes an action
merely as a means to an end. The contrast is seen in
the two forms, “Thou shalt be righteous,” and “Thou
shalt be righteous if it conduces to thy highest happiness.”

Kant’s central thought was that of a perfect
righteousness, which viewed all things from the
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. XXxXvii

standpoint of the universal, or, as Christians would
say, “from the throne of God.” His highest principle
of morality was :—

“ Act so that the maxims of thy will can at the same time
be valid as the principle of a universal lawgiving, ¢.e., that
no contradiction shall arise in the attempt to conceive the
maxims of thy acting as a law universally obeyed.” }

This corresponds with the Christian principle, “Do
unto others as you would they should do unto you.”

Herbart’s doctrine differs from that of Kant in two
points. (1) He did not believe in transcendental
freedom. (2) He thought it “a mistake to begin the
science of ethics with the categorical imperative,” for
the following reason. To command is to will, and if a
command as such be possessed of original and absolute
certainty, then one act of volition as such must take
precedence over all others. But each will, as will, is
equal to any other will; consequently, since no will, as
will, is superior to any other, no command as such has
any original right to command. Hence, that which is
commanded cannot as such carry with it the obligation
of duty. In other words, Herbart did not hold that
the categorical imperative was the jirst thing in con-
sciousness, because he saw no adequate reason why one
special volition should be thus raised above the rest.
The command surely comes, and woe unto those who
try to ignore it; but it is derived from something else,
and what that is demands special attention.

An artist in music can enumerate. the harmonic
relations of his art, and definitely show their correct
use. He is perfectly aware of the relation between
one chord and another, but if you demanded proofs
from him of his statements, as Herbart says, he “could
only laugh at or pity the dull ear that had failed to

apperceive.”
1 ScuweGLeEr’s History of Philosophy, p. 255.
XXXVili INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

If you do not hear a discord the greatest musician
cannot prove to you that it is one, though the moment
it sounds you see his esthetic judgment of disapproval
in his face. We are not all bound to be artists; if we
have no taste for a thing the wiser course is to with-
draw from its study. But supposing there is that in
a man’s own mental world which is the object of
instantaneous judgments of this kind; from himself
he cannot separate, and they may “by their quiet,
yet ever audible speech, in time coerce him, exactly as
they do the amateur who has set his heart upon becoming
an artist.” If we suppose, moreover, that these judg-
ments take place whenever there is conscious activity
of the will,—a silent independent witness of approval
or disapproval of every real volition,—we shall have
before us that which Herbart substitutes for Kant’s
categorical imperative, to which he has given the name
of the esthetic judgment. It is wsthetic simply in the
sense that we see in it the same kind of necessity
which attaches to our instantaneous judgments on
painting, music, and the other arts, and not that we
are to identify the good with the beautiful.

Summing up what Herbart says about the subject,
we gather that these intuitive judgments are original,
involuntary, and without proof; they do not enforce
their claims, nor do they become commands until the
personality has yielded to them, and thus as it were
raised them into the position of the categorical im-
perative. It is their slow pressure which men call
conscience. We easily recognize that judgments of
this kind can be passed on the human will only in
its various relationships to itself and others; action
without will and consciousness is non-moral.

The will must stand in relationship either to itself
or some other will; and thus, by the most careful
analysis, Herbart has reduced all possible cases to
five, two in which there are two wills existing in the
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. xxxix

same person, and three in which two or more persons
are involved. The series of great concepts formed by
the mind of these relationships is known as that of
the five Moral Ideas.

I. Inner Freedom. The child enters the world,”
says Herbart, “without a will of his own”; that is,
“instead of a true will, which renders him capable of
determination, there is only a wild impetuosity, im-
pelling him hither and thither—a principle of disorder
disturbing the plans of adults, and placing the future
personality itself in manifold dangers.” And out of
this we get what has been described as the conflict
between the two wills. The earliest developed is the
objective, based on the natural desires, passions, and
inclinations, that which the individual finds already
existent when he begins to observe himself. Later on
develops the subjective, the new will, which arises in
and with self-observation, based on the intuitive
judgments which the boy is already beginning to
pass on himself and others. And thus very early
comes the consciousness of inner discord. “When I
would do good, evil is present with me.” Claudius,
roused by Hamlet’s play, is a case in point. The voice
of conscience thunders through the inner world that
his “offence is rank,’ that it demands restitution
and repentance, and the subjective will strives for
supremacy. But opposed to it is the objective, based
on the desire to keep the results of sin, the throne and
Gertrude :—

“My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen,

May one be pardon’d and retain the offence ?
... tis not so above.”

Knowing the higher command, he yet yields to the
lower, and peace flies from the darkened soul; the
man is enslaved. Inner freedom is attained by the
unconditional surrender of the objective to the sub-
jective or law-giving will.
xl INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

II. Perfection—The harmony of the objective will
with the subjective arouses the esthetic judgment of
approval. In the case of Hamlet, according to the
ethical system of the day, it was the son’s most solemn
duty to avenge his father’s murder. Hamlet does not
shrink from this, although nothing could be more
appalling to the intellectual dreamer than such a task.
This rouses our approval; but the deed was not done.
There was a most serious delay, ending in widespread
ruin. The cause was a fault in the will. There was
not enough energy in it to carry out efficiently the
mandate of the higher self.

“Tf we think of the force and the resistance with which
a human being maintains the goodness of his will against
those emotions and desires that work in opposition to it,
then morality—at first merely a quality, a determination
of the will—becomes to us the virtue, power, action, and
efficacy of the will so determined.”!

It has been noticed that in Mrs. Ward’s Hdward
Langham we have a strange picture of a modern
Hamlet. Langham had won a woman’s love, and his
love for her was so real, that at one moment he was
ready to face a revolution in the habits of a lifetime.
Then he quailed before it like Hamlet.

“Tn both lives the tragic woof is the same; it is the
tragedy of spiritual impotence, of deadened energies and
paralysed will, the essential tragedy of modernity. Hamlet
fascinates us, just as Langham fascinates us, because we see
in him ourselves; we are all actual or potential Hamlets.”

Contrast with this the spirit of the aged Bede. He
had set himself to complete a task, a translation for
the good of his people; but he was dying, and his
disciples besought him to rest. “Nay,” was the answer,
“it must be finished, write quickly”; and, wrestling

1 Hervarr's Lsthetic Revelation of the World.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. xli

with death, the old man faltered on till the last word
Vie written; then he died with the “Gloria” on his
Ips.

As the lower rises to obey the higher the latter
must also ascend, even as in climbing a mountain the
heights ever seem to rise beyond us. Browning ex-
presses the same thought :—

“Ah! fragments of a whole, ordained to be
Points in the life I waited. What are ye
But roundels of a ladder which appeared
Awhile the very platform it was reared
To lift me on?”

“Perfection,” then, in this case is not used for the
sum total of completed virtue, but for the adequate
efficiency or strength with which the law-giving will
is obeyed.

III. Benevolence—The two first ideas alone do not
necessarily involve moral volition, because they only
deal with the form and not the content of moral action.

Inner freedom demands the coincidence of volition
with judgment; perfection, the adequate strength to
carry out the judgment. But the moral insight may
be faulty, and a strong will may be in the service of
the passions. The Indian mother, who throws her
child into the sacred river, acts in accordance with
both ideas; but her action per se is not praiseworthy.
We require, then, the idea of benevolence, the unselfish
devotion of one will to the good of another.

The rare beauty of this idea never fails to attract
the nobler spirits among men, and ever since the days
of Jesus Christ it has been inseparably connected with
His name. The cross is the emblem of its supreme
power. Yet there is much so-called benevolence which
will not bear any test. To seek the real good of
another will may involve keen suffering to both
individuals. The highest love triumphs over even
xlii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

this. The prayer for the wayward Sintram is a
striking example :—
“Mein Gott und Herr
Das Weltgezerr
Wend ab von seinem Herzen
Ruf ihn hinein

Zum Himmelschein
Sei’s auch durch tausend Schmerzen.”

IV. The Idea of Right—The common sphere of
action for human wills is the external world. Here it
must necessarily often occur that two wills are set on
one and the same object. When this happened to
man in what Hobbes calls a state of nature the
result was war; and thus, as the same writer says,
life was “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, short.” Man
learnt slowly that to do as he would be done by was
safer and better for all, that benefit accrues to the
individual if he agrees to use only as much liberty
against other men as he wishes them to use against
him. In other words, he assents to law, and is willing
to be punished himself if he commits theft, as he
wishes other thieves to be punished. “Right is the
concordance of several wills regarded as a rule for
the prevention of strife.”! This idea of right militates
against over-developed individualism, and that one-
sided culture of certain special tendencies in mind
which is so strongly condemned by Herbart.

“Doubtless the lover of the bizarre and of caricature
would rejoice to see, instead of many fully and proportion-
ately-developed men, fit to move in rank and file, a crowd of
hump-backs and cripples of all kinds tumbling wildly over
each other. But this is what happens where society is
composed of men of widely-different modes of thought;

each brags of his own individuality, and no one understands
his fellow’s.” 2

1 HERBART. 2 Science of Education, p. 142.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION.  xliii

In contrast to this the idea of right demands that,
like Plato’s just man, we should see things from the
universal standpoint, that we should live according to
the laws of that ideal city of which the pattern is
laid up in heaven.?

V. Justice or Equity.—The idea of justice demands
that the benefit or harm intentionally done by one
will to another should be returned to the will which
originated it in the form of reward or punishment.
But this must be kept distinct from all vindictive
personal feelings. Punishment must not fall on the
wrongdoer through man’s natural impulse to return
blow for blow, but as the solemn vindication of the
moral law.

By applying these five ideas to social life we obtain
the following developments. From the idea of right
we get jurisprudence and the concept of a law-abiding
society (Rechtsgesellschaft); from equity or justice
develops penal law and a system of rewards and
punishments. The idea of benevolence demands that
every member of a community must contribute to
the welfare and good government of the whole.
Perfection requires each man to take part in the
advancement of general culture. Inner freedom in-
volves the willing submission of the individual to
the will of an ideal state. This thought of a heavenly
city appears under many forins as one of the highest
ideals man seems able to conceive. It occupies a
prominent place in Jewish literature; it is worked
out in the Republic of Plato; it appears faintly even
in Teutonic myth, in the vague longing for an entrance
into Valhalla, the hall of the kinsfolk. A community
of the good and the noble, an Urbs beata, seems to have
ever been the summit of human aspiration, The
superb vision of St. John in Patmos is its most signifi-
cant expression. There, the battlements flashing with

1 Republic, Book viii.
xliv INTRODUCTION TO TUE STUDY OF HERBART.

rainbow tints, seem to symbolise in a remarkable way
the Herbartian idea of carefully-preserved individu-
alities, while at the same time the whole city is lit
up with the white light of absolute moral beauty,—for
“the Lamb is the Light thereof.”

We do not propose to discuss fully Herbart’s views
on the subject of religion. Suffice it to say here that
he attaches supreme importance to the teaching of it
to children.

“God, the real centre of all moral ideas and of their
limitless efficacy, the Father of man and the Lord of the
world, should fill the background of memory as the oldest,
the first percept, to which all recollection of the mind,
returning out of the confusion of life, must invariably come
at last, that it may rest as in its very self in the repose of
faith.”?

And again :—

“As the ultimate point of the universe, as the summit
of all sublimity, this idea of God must glimmer in early
childhood as soon as the mind begins to venture an outlook
over its knowledge and thought, its fear and hope, as soon
as it tries to look beyond the bounds of its horizon. Above
all, the mind must keep Sabbath in religion. It should
turn to it for rest from all thoughts, desires, cares.”

The modern Herbartian school have made religion
the centre of their scheme of instruction.

Whatever Herbart himself may have held, one thing
seems clear. So far from being incompatible with
faith in revelation, the Herbartian principles only
bring out more clearly the divine reasonableness
of redemption. One question of considerable ethical
difficulty may exemplify this. “If you would ruin a
nation,” says Dr. Rein, “ you need only persuade them
that the ethical standard is variable.” This is self-

1 Zsthetic Revelation of the World.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. xlv

evident. Who would strive to ground maxims for the
guidance of life on theories which may be found
invalid in a few years? On the other hand, we cannot
shut our eyes to the presence of development here as
elsewhere. We look upon many acts now as immoral
which the most upright of our ancestors committed in
all good conscience. What, then, has changed? Surely
we are here face to face with the old problem, “ Zn
allem Werden ein Sein,”’! and it is not to be solved by
denying the existence of either of its parts. Moral
perfection exists in the five great Ideas taken together,
and the mind of man can conceive nothing higher; but
the application of these concepts to the tangled maze of
human life is quite another matter. It is one thing to
state them, one thing to dimly grasp their méaning,
quite another to apperceive their full content. Apper-
ception and the theory of the culture epochs t seem to
throw a flood of light on this subject. If we believe
that the child reproduces in his little life the develop-
ment of the nation, we shall see that the moral
standard need never have varied. In the infancy
of the race man apperceived it but little, his tastes
were crude, his desires simple, his grasp of abstract
truth exceedingly limited. The vision of absolute
perfection, like that of absolute truth, would have
been simply blinding; yet men had light, some more,
some less, as there was capacity to receive it, and
especially in those early days it seems coloured with
the tints of national individuality. White light they
saw not, perhaps could not see and live. As they
followed what they saw, it grew brighter, and there
were some precocious children of the race, whose gaze
was so long and earnest, that a fulness and a beauty
dawned on them beyond their age. So a Socrates
lived in the world of his day, but not of it; for as

1 “Tn all becoming there is being.”
2 See Introduction, p. lxxxvii.
xlvi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

Emerson says, “Holiness confers a certain insight.
Such persons are nearer to the secret of God than
others . . . they hear notices, they see visions, where
others are vacant.”

But at last appeared a Man who had gazed un-
blinded on the perfect moral ideal, and its glory shone
through His life. What was the result? He was a
mystery to His age. Men were conscious that some-
thing quite new was before them, and His presence
constantly provoked ethical questions. The feeling of
many of His contemporaries was that of the puzzled
Roman, “ Whence art Thou?” But they could not
understand Him, could not apperceive His moral
beauty; and so that happened which Plato had fore-
seen—they crucified their one Just Man. Since
then His life has changed the aspect of the world;
for when He had apparently left them, men began by
degrees to understand the meaning of what they had
seen. The chains fell from the slave at His touch;
woman became ennobled; His tenderness for the sick
built hospitals; His love for children protected the
orphan ; His forgiveness slew revenge; His peace is
beginning to hush even the clamour of war.

Every spark of moral beauty, which men think they
have evolved, they find was there before in the stain-
less light of that one personality. As the national
ideals rise, His life is still beyond and above us,
because we are only now gathering the apperceiving
factor to understand it even a little. The question
is reiterated by the history of the ages, “ Whence art
Thou ?”

Suppose the members of a race had somehow ethi-
cally fallen, and moral degeneration had set in, how
could they, blind as they were, even see holiness again ?
Only by degrees, and through the human; that alone
they could understand. Is there not, then, divine reason

1 Republic, ii, 361 (Jowxtt’s Trans., p. 41).
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION.  xlvii

in the message, that because of this, because there was
no other way and none other that could save, Deity
itself accepted the limitations of humanity ;—“ He
emptied Himself (ékevwoe), taking the form of a ser-
vant, being made in the likeness of men,.. . becoming
obedient even unto death, yea the death of the cross ?
For—‘ God was in Christ.”

Socrates thought that if once men saw absolute
goodness they could not choose but follow it; but
he knew no remedy for an enslaved will which had
deliberately shut the eyes of the mind. In the religion
of Jesus there was this supreme addition. Absolute
beauty appeared in a Person who appealed to the will,
and gave it strength by His love So that as apper-
ception strengthens, His friends are changed into His
image, and at last they will be like Him, for they “shall
see Him as He ts,”

We have seen that the five great Ideas, taken
together, blend into the moral ideal. But we cannot
expect to find them in their fulness in the little
child.

The esthetic judgments are as yet undeveloped.
To place the power already existent, and in its nature
trustworthy, under such conditions that it must
infallibly and surely accomplish a rise into willing
personal obedience, is the possibility before the teacher.
Children do not at first know the things which are
per se base or praiseworthy. But as artistic taste is
developed by the observation of shades of colour, so
moral judgments are called forth by observation of
actions, regarded as the manifestation of will.

Beginning at first with vague feelings, indefinite and
easily led astray, they must develop into logically-

1 It is in the concept of the Good Shepherd, who came to seek that
which was lost, and who passed even through the valley and the
shadow of death that His own might fear no evil, that we see the
supremacy of Christianity over Platonism.
xlviii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

formed and clearly-expressed judgments. The sur-
roundings of his home, his lessons, his books, the
world with its full and manifold life, all present
material for the exercise of the boy’s judgment, and he
ought to attain a noble freedom which shall establish a
law to himself. Whether he does so or not depends
on whether he becomes first “immersed in the calcula-
tions of egotism or in the esthetic apperception of the
surrounding world.”

This ought not to be left to chance. It is the
teacher’s office to see to it, that there is such a
presentation of the universe that evil impressions
may be counteracted, and what is good may be
strengthened.

All that is pure and stainless, lovely and noble, in
the world of thought, history, art, literature, lies ready
at our hand. It 7s a moral world, as our greatest
thinkers reiterate; to call evil good, and good evil is false
to the nature of things. “The soul that sinneth, it
shall die.” Shall we let our children listen to the lie
of the serpent, “Ye shall no¢ surely die” ?

It is ours to introduce these youthful strangers into
the august society of the mighty dead, but it will
be through us they meet them. If the siren’s voice is
music in our ears, it may lure them on the rocks; if the
poisoned cup be sweet to our taste, they will drink
of it.

In a somewhat difficult passage Herbart describes
the result of presenting a lowered ideal. Our task is
“to prepare beforehand in the child an inward facility
for attaining the aims which, as a man, he will place
before himself.” And “ who will warrant us that the
future man will not search out the good, to make it the
object of his willing, the aim of his life, the standard
of his self-criticism ? Who will protect us against the
severe Judgment which will then overtake us? There
are instances of the kind; and it is never safe to set up
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION,  xlix

as business manager for another if we have no mind to
do the work well.”

One of the most awful moments conceivable is that
pictured by Lowell. Two shadows darken the door of
a closing life—the youth that is dead and the lost
ideal of the past; and they enter a ruined temple, a
desecrated shrine :—

“The sacred vessels moulder near,
The image of the God is gone.”

But there is that which is worse,—to see a dead ideal
in one whom we have taught, a bright dream of child-
hood which faded at our touch.

In passing, we must not omit to notice how Herbart’s
ethics are inseparably connected with his psychology,
and, above all, with his doctrine of apperception.! In
this case the point emphasized is, of course, the great
fact, that though the same world lies open to all, men
see strangely different things in it. It is the riddle of
Odysseus :-—

“Tam a part of all that I have met ;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’

Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.”

Here we can only notice that from this point of
view, in ethical considerations, a teacher can only
lead his pupil to see that which he sees himself. As
Herbart says :—

“The teacher himself will be to the pupil an odject of
experience at once as fruitful as itis direct; yes, in the
hours of teaching an intercourse grows up between them
which is, at the least, a foretaste of intercourse with the great
men of antiquity, or with the clearly-drawn characters of
the poet. Absent historic or poetic characters must receive
life from the life of the teacher.” ?

1 For a full discussion of this doctrine see page Ixiv.
2 Science of Education.
d
1 INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

What sort of life are we prepared to give to these
beings of the mind ?

Swift, in the words of his giant king, saw men as
“the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that
Nature ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the
earth,” and as the lurid gloom deepened he saw them
as—Yahoos! A Tennyson could show men a King
Arthur, or a Sir Galahad. Surely Plato was right: “I
ought to be careful that I do not lose the eye of my
soul,” The thought, truly, is many-sided, “ What if
earth were but a shadow of heaven ?”

“A touch divine,

And the scaled eyeball owns the mystic rod,
Visibly through His garden walketh God.?

“Earth’s crammed with heaven
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes.”?

Was not Dante dreaming of an ideal guide, when he
said, “I looked on Beatrice, and she on heaven” ?

Section B,
THE MEANS OF EDUCATION.

I, PRELIMINARY QUESTIONS.
Metaphysics and Psychology.

Experience propounds to us two great questions
concerning the universe in which we find ourselves.
Charles Kingsley aptly personifies them in his scientific
talks with. children as Madam How and Lady Why.
Since the days of Bacon our acquaintance with the
former has ripened into respectful intimacy. Of the
latter we speak with deeper reverence than we did.

1 Rosert BROWNING. 2k. B. Brownine,
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. li

Our desire to see her has increased, but we realize
now how rare and fitful are the glimpses she vouchsafes
us. Still, we cannot avoid inquiry, and it stands on the
very threshold of the “means of education.”

When Herbart speaks (page 4) of the pupil’s capacity
for cultivation, and tells us we must consider, first,
“that into which the passive may develop,” the question
forces itself upon us, What is the nature of this so-
called “passive?” We watch the phantasmagoric change
of mind-phenomena ; their beginnings are obscure, their
complexity baffles us, and at their grandest point of
development, when the experience is full, the judgment
sound, and wisdom has at last crowned the knowledge
of earlier years, there may come a slight failure in the
physical mechanism, and “the rest is silence”; gone,
but “whence, and oh heavens, whither ?”?!

A few points must be noticed before we discuss
Herbart’s views as to the nature of mind, The
first is the reaction between mind and body. Physio-
logical psychology has made enormous progress since
the beginning of the century,? and some of Herbart’s
tentative remarks in Letters 1V.-IX. naturally cannot
now be endorsed. Still, here again we can only wonder
at the masterly mind which anticipated so many of the
discoveries of a later decade, and at the ability of the
pioneer who pointed out the way which others have
since pursued.

It is incontrovertible that the body powerfully affects
the mind. Consciousness disappears wholly or in part
as a result of disturbance or injury to the brain. If
the body is sound, the mind is fresh and active; with
a sickly body it is weak and miserable. Insufficient
nourishment, bad air, insanitary conditions soon injure
mental activity.

1 CaRLyu’s Sartor Resartus,

2 See an interesting account in the Mineteenth Century for July,
1897, ‘‘ Recent Science,” by PRINCE KRAPOTKIN.
lii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

«A mere catarrh hinders imagination, concussion of the
brain destroys it wholly or in part, movement of the body
helps it. Rousseau had to walk in order to think, Lenau
and Mozart composed with most pleasure when moving,
Xenophon and Goethe delighted in riding, Klopstock and
Herder in skating. Aristotle recommended lively motion
to tragic writers in order to get themselves into an emotional
condition,”

Lastly, we know that trifling annoyances seem
maddening to the over-worked, and “the grasshopper
is a burden” to the old.

But even more mysteriously does mind affect body,
and here indeed the phenomena of nineteenth century
neurosis and hysteria show how much there is yet to
be investigated in this matter. The body is often the
expression of the soul. The eye shines with joy, the
voice is modulated to express feeling ; speech, above all,
gives utterance to mental activity. “Say something,”
said Socrates to Charmides, “that I may see thee.”
Imagination has the strangest effect on the physiological
processes. Imagined danger quickens the action of the
heart; the belief that one has drunk poison sometimes
has the same effect as taking it. Kirchner cites a pupil
of Boerhave, who had to give up medical study because
he actually contracted every sickness which he heard
described. A number of cases of this kind are col-
lected in Hecker’s Epidemics of the Middle Ages, and
Moore’s Power of the Soul over the Body. The wild
dance of St. John or St. Vitus, which seized upon
thousands after the visit of the black death; the French
nuns, who, led by the strange impulse of one sister,
mewed regularly every day for hours together; the
dancing dervishes of the East, all show that the mental
state called sympathy may bring about the strangest
physical conditions. Still more remarkable are some

1 KrrcHNER's Psychology, p. 229.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION, liii

of the sense deceptions which have been caused by
imagination. Le Sage tells us that Olivarez actually
died of horror at an apparition which never left him,
although he knew it was only a delusion. Nor can we
by any means confine these experiences to the insane
or weak-minded. “Even Goethe saw himself in 1771
riding to meet himself,” and some of the greatest
poets, artists, and thinkers “could amuse themselves
with hallucinations at will.” Amongst these were
Goethe, Tasso, Jean Paul, Walter Scott, Cardanus, and
Spinoza.

What, then, is the nature of mind, and how are
we to account for the mysterious correlations evidently
existing between the nervous mechanism and the
phenomena of consciousness. To the first inquiry
three different answers have been given :—

1. Materialistic. This denies the existence of any
reality other than the material substance of the living
and active nervous system.

2. That called by Hoffding the Identity hypothesis,
which regards brain and mind as phenomenal aspects
of one reality, which is like neither, but manifests
itself in both.

3. Spiritualistic; which denies the possibility of
explaining mental phenomena without referring them
to a non-material or spiritual entity as real subject.

For a full and masterly discussion of these answers,
the reader is referred to Prof. Ladd’s Physiological
Psychology, Part III. p. 585. Suffice it to say here,
that to the first attaches this fundamental objection,—
it confuses dependence with Identity.

“The fire which is kindled from ice by a burning-glass is
yet not of the same nature as ice. . . . To say that a feel-
ing is really the vibration of a brain fibre, or really an
electro-chemical process is manifestly no explanation. For
liv INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

the vibration which may be parallel to that feeling or may
be its foundation, is yet not that feeling itself. To identify
both is, as Fick strikingly observes, as bad as to explain
the pain of a broken leg by the sight of waggons in
collision.”

Again, all nerve commotion admits of measurement
by the common physical standard, but the mental
phenomena defy us; “a weighty argument,” “a high
ideal,” cannot be gauged thus. A simple sensation of
a damask rose may be ours, but the “red” retinal
elements are not themselves red, and if they were, it
would not help us to understand the state of con-
sciousness called a sensation of red.

To the second theory the objection may be raised
that it lands us in agnosticism at a very critical point;
it offers no explanation as to what the “double-faced
Unity” really is, nor how it comes to manifest itself
in two such different forms as mind and matter.

The third, advocated by Prof. Ladd, asserts that

“The subject of all the states of consciousness is a real
Unit Being called Mind, which is of non-material nature,
and acts and develops according to laws of its own, but is
specially correlated with certain material molecules and
masses, forming the substance of the brain. For the
latest modern physiological-psychology gives no definite
account of the origin or destiny of mind. It fails to
explain the entire being of mind, as arising out of the
physical, from which the bodily members unfold. It knows
no decisive reason why the mind should not exist in other
relations than those it now holds to brain; rather does it
disclose certain phenomena suggesting, perhaps confirming,
the possibility of such existence.”

What now are Herbart’s views on this subject? He
believes the Soul or the Ego to be one of the noumena
of the Universe. To him it is an absolute Real, a
Monad, simple, eternal, indissoluble, indestructible,
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION, lv

and consequently immortal; its nature is unknown
to us.}

1 “In reply to this pointed query (as to the fundamental nature
of the soul) it would be simplest to confess our conviction that what
the soul is we never shall know; but by such a confession we should
create the impression that through this ignorance we must lose
much that is of importance for our investigation, and that in regard
to the soul a difficulty is to us insoluble, which is easily removed in
regard to all other things.” Lotze goes on to prove that this latter
statement is very far from correct, that all our definitions of real
objects are hypothetical, and that they never denote the thing except
as that which, under different conditions, will appear in different
characters. ‘‘In granting, then, that the essence of the soul is
unknown, we do so only in a sense that includes the impossibility
of saying what would be the essence of anything in the entire absence
of the conditions that are the exciting occasions of its manifestations.
It is just as impossible to know what the soul is before it enters on
any of the situations in which alone its life unfolds, as it is to tell
how things look in the dark. ...

‘But if it be true that the essence of things in this sense is
to us unknown, is it also true that we lose much by this ignorance,
and is it in this essence, which eludes our grasp, that we must seek the
essential that we would not willingly fail to find? I do not think
this question need be answered affirmatively. .. .

‘In the sense of another man’s knowledge, the tone of his
mind, the dispositions of his character, and the peculiar action
and reaction of these elements on one another, we think we have

resented to us his entire personality. If our acquaintance with
fia is such that we have mastered these items, we do not fancy
that we should gain insight into the innermost core of his being,
by his being set before us as he was originally, before, in the process
of growth, he had acquired his present highly-developed internal
existence, or as he is now at bottom, and would even now show
himself to be, if all the results of his past life, as well as all the
conditions by which he might still be influenced, were removed. We
acknowledge indeed that this mental life could not have developed
itself, had there not been previously » primitive soul, as yet unex-
pressed, for the influence of the vital conditions to act upon as they
came into being; but this, which in other cases we look on as
the peculiar and fundamental essence of the thing, we here regard as
an indispensable, yet in itself worthless pre-requisite, as a necessary
means of that development which itself contains all value and all
essential significance. It seems to us that the true essence lies in
that which the subject of the development has become, and no
more than we believe we possess in the unfolded and blossoming plant,
something inferior to the simple and shapeless germ from which it
sprang, do we here feel any inclination to look with regret on the
ideas in which we share, on the feelings and efforts in which, with all
lvi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

“Between several dissimilar simple essences exists a
relation, which, with the help of a comparison from the
physical world, may be described as pressure or resistance.”

The Reals of the Universe, then, would press against
and produce changes in each other, if it were not
also inherent in them to resist and maintain them-
selves in their original quality.

“‘Self-preservations of this kind are the only events
which really occur in nature, and this is the combination
of event with being. The self-preservations of the soul
are (at least in part and so far as we know them) simple
concepts, for the act of self-preservation is as simple as is
the essence which is preserved.”!

All psychical phenomena whatever result from the

action and interaction of these elementary ideas, which
Herbart calls the Vorstellungen. They are the varying
states into which the soul is thrown by its efforts at
\self-preservation.
_ The soul (according to Herbart) has originally no
content whatever. “The production of a content
begins as soon as the soul enters into union with
the body.” According to this, we cannot of course
speak of faculties of the soul per se, because all human
souls are in their quality alike. This, however, is a
purely metaphysical point as regards Education. We
have to do only with embodied spirits, and here indi-
viduality comes in at once. The differentiation is
based on :—

(I.) Inherent capacity, dependent on bodily structure.

CII.) Acquired capacity, dependent on environment,
human or otherwise.

the ardour of our sympathy, we takepart, as a poor substitute for
the vision of the undeveloped, primitive 7d rf of the soul.” HERMANN
Lorzz, Microcosmus, Book ii. ch. ii. pp. 189, 190.

1 Hersarr’s Text Book of Psychology, p. 120.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. lvii

These two factors, which together make up Individu-
ality, may offer the strongest opposition to the teacher’s
efforts.

We have considered the rise of elementary ideas.
Herbart has a further explanation for the phenomena
of Emotion and Volition.

The difficulty of defining feeling is felt by all
psychologists. Kirchner points out that it can be
described only in a roundabout way, because it is a
manifestation of the soul itself. Yet the fact is indubit-
a soul is affected by its own states, motions,
land activities. “Feeling is thus the being aware
\(apperception) of our total state. According as this is
‘harmonious or not, the soul feels pleasure or pain.”
Kant again defined it as “the unmeditated idea by
which the soul defines its own state with reference
to the objects of its sensations.”

Ho6ffding says, “Feeling might, perhaps, be defined
as that in our inward states which cannot by any
possibility become an element of a percept or of an
image. It is an inner illumination which falls on the
stream of sensations and ideas.” Prof. Ward writes that
Feeling “is not in itself a presentation, but a purely
subjective state.”

Herbart’s theory is somewhat different. A sailor
boy, after a long voyage, is returning home. By
night he dreams of his father’s cottage, by day the
image of his mother floats before his eyes; he hears
voices of welcome even in the sighing of the wind.
The day arrives, he lands, catches a glimpse of the
familiar glow of the fire-light, hears his father’s voice,
the door opens—he is at home. The throng of pre-
sentations, with which he has lived for months, receive
a sudden accession of strength by the presence of
similar sense-impressions ; he feeds intense pleasure.

But suppose a different case. The same boy is again
returning, flushed with the same expectations. This
lviili INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

time the light in the window is absent, the door is shut,
the cottage is empty, for Death has been in his home.
The throng of happy images receives a sudden terrible
check, and is pressed back as it struggles into con-
sciousness. He feels intense pain. ‘The life of the
soul, says Herbart, is one of ideas; every furthering of
them is at the same time a promotion of the life
activity of the mind; every arrest of ideas is also an
arrest of soul life. A feeling is the consciousness of

Xan arrest or promotion of those ideas which at the
time predominate in consciousness. Mixed feelings are
“really only oscillations of quickly changing contrasts
of feelings, whose rapid succession appears as co-exist-
ence.” Everyone knows what it is to feel pleasure that
is bitter and torment that is sweet. “ Parting” may
actually be “such sweet sorrow.”

Before we pass on to Herbart’s theory of volition, a
few words are necessary on the state of desire. It
has been said that “desire is distinguished from feeling

~in that it does not, like the latter, indicate a single

-)momentary condition of thought, but a passing through

<,several such conditions, i¢., a movement. Single cross
sections of this movement are feelings.” Desire may

‘be defined as a state of mind struggling towards bring-

<aing about another state not now present. In extreme
thirst, the idea of water, looked upon as the satisfac-
tion of desire, is arrested; impulse strives to shake off
the unpleasant state of arrest, ae, to obtain complete
mastery over the object. Desire is perfected impulse;
it has been said to resemble the sea, having ebb and
flow, but no absolute rest; the perfect satisfaction of
it is ideal. It may range from scarcely perceptible
pain up to a height approaching madness; satisfaction
ee produces a pause. Sir Walter Scott speaks of it
thus :-—

“This is the course and the end of human wishes, They
are produced by trifles, inflamed by imagination, and
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. lix

nourished by the breath of hope, until they finally consume
what they have kindled, and the man with his hopes,

passions, and wishes sinks into one contemptible heap of
ashes,”

The content of desire is only an idea. Although we
commonly speak of Macbeth desiring the throne, that
complex psychic state for which his soul was struggling
was obviously nothing external, but merely the sensa-
tions and percepts caused by the idea of royalty.
“Tgnoti nulla cupido.” We can, then, only desire the
unknown, in so far as we long to bring into greater
clearness certain elements in our idea of it which are
already familiar.

In Letter XVII. Herbart strikingly brings out how
this bears on the awakening in children of a craving
for new knowledge.

We pass on now to volition. Desire becomes will
when it is associated with the idea that its object can
be attained.

A student, for instance, desires to take a degree, but
time and means seem too limited to make it possible.
Still his mind dwells on the subject till the following
series is formed. An evening class might be practicable,
for which money could be spared through self-denial.
By helping a less able fellow-student a step further is at-
tained; the fees earned make further advance possible.
Diligent work attracts the professor’s notice, and
suggestion is made’ of a scholarship. An examination,
which some time ago seemed hopeless, is mentioned
to the student; the path to the degree suddenly be-
comes clear, and now he wills it; desire has passed
into volition. We see, too, in this illustration that
frequently, as Herbart says, it is action “which
generates the will out of desire.” We cannot will
the possession of that which we see no means of
attaining. The question is, how far can imagination
Ix INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

supply images of the necessary actions? The general
desires a victory; he proceeds to act tentatively and .
with caution: a march here, a counter-march there,
scouts posted, soldiers encouraged, etc.; then suddenly
a complex series of movements presents itself that
will entrap the enemy, now he wills to conquer.

“The great man acted long before in thought; he felé
himself acting, he saw himself advancing before the ex-
ternal act, the facsimile of the internal became visible.
A few passing attempts in performance, proving in reality
nothing, suffice to change a flattering faith into confidence
that he will be able to realize in act what he sees with
inward clearness. In order to create a firm volition this
courage supplies the place of the act.” ‘Whoever then |
says, ‘I will,’ has already conquered for himself the future
in thought. He already sees himself achieving, possessing,
enjoying.”?

3 Much, then, depends on the versatility and richness
sof mind in him who desires, for the clearer the insight
Sas to the attainability of the object, the stronger the
Swill. There is another side to this, as Herbart has

also brought out. “Unhappy are they who are

wanting in power when they will something great.
- The path of destruction is the course of education
c_Teversed, Dejection which becomes habitual is consump-
“tion of the character.”

Once convince a child that the task set is too hard,
that he cannot do it, and the power is gone; desire
may still linger, but the great factor in success, a firm
will, is absent. Hence the danger of the secret fear of
a new subject, which Herbart describes in Letter XVI.;
hence, too, the strangely disastrous effects of a dis-
couraging manner. The teacher’s great object is to

, produce an “inward facility” for attaining certain
ends; if doubt arises, it means the entrance of a new

1 HERBART’S Science of Education, p. 12. 2 Ibid., p. 211,
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION, lxi

presentation, which arrests those already in conscious- |
ness, and half the vital energy will be squandered in.
the struggle. In Bunyan’s picture of the battle with
Apollyon the arguments of the fiend were simply
these: “Thou art mine, my subject, my slave, thou
canst not escape, the Celestial City is not for such
as thee; back then to the City of Destruction.” But
the “fiery darts” were hurled back by the shield of
faith, for belief in the possibility of attainment is
irresistible. Where there is a will there 7s a way.

In its ethical bearing the importance of this prin-
ciple cannot be exaggerated. There are authors who
depict a world wherein some cannot do right. The
affections are too strong for a man, say they, he cannot
control hate and love; even if his passion do bring
disaster and ruin he is to be pitied rather than blamed.
What does this mean? Can the Judge of the world
be sleeping, or are we automatons, the victims of
circumstances, so that Gloucester is right—

“ As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods,
They kill us for their sport” ?

The play of King Lear has another meaning than
this. “ Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also
reap.”

“The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to scourge us.’

The old king must suffer, Edmund must die, because
we can do right and God is just.

But it may be suggested, does not all this tend
to foster a spirit of self-sufficiency and of unbounded
confidence in personal power? May not that be mis-
placed, and therefore end in hopeless dejection? The
intellectual danger here is a real one, and the warning
for the teacher is clearly against setting lessons which
are actually beyond the strength of the pupils. The
lxii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

latter begin confidently, perhaps, but they grow sorely
disheartened if failure is prolonged, and faith both in
their own ability and the teacher’s judgment wavers.

On the other hand, the ethical vista opened out by
these thoughts is very striking. It often explains the
victory of the vanquished, the triumph of apparently
the weakest and the humblest of mankind. Is not
this the secret of men who have had a “ mission”?
Let a man once be convinced that a thing is right,
and that God has appointed him to carry it out, then,
no matter the difficulty or the danger, he is immortal
till his work is done; and such may be even a weak
man’s confidence in the possibility of attainment, that
no human power can stand against it. Let anyone
believe that in the great battle of life he is at the post
appointed by the General, that he is on the side of
the force which makes for righteousness, and that
man is lifted above the fear of defeat or failure. What
matter if the counter-marches do seem perplexing,
and the sound of retreat rings in his ears ; what matter
if the mists of death gather thick over the field, he
fears nothing ; the end is certain, and at the roll call of
the morning watch he will answer to his name. For
when “confidence in the possibility of attainment”
passes beyond the human, and lays hold on the unseen
God, there zs no failure.

“He always wins who sides with God,
To him no chance is lost ;
God’s will is sweetest to him when
It triumphs at his cost.”

The forces of the universe pressing in on the monad
of the soul may be very strong. To some men they
have seemed as the whirling of the potter's wheel
under the helpless clay;} to others as the strange

+ See R. BRownine in Rabi Ben Ezra.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. _ lxiii

and perplexing difficulties of a long journey;! to
others as a host of armed and dangerous foes which
plot destruction.2 And all men have felt that the
last step is as a plunge into a river, or as nearing

“The power of the night, the press of the storm,

The pe ost of the foe ;

Where he stands, the arch fear in a visible form,
Yet the strong man must go:

For the journey is done, and the summit attained,
And the barriers fall ;

Though a battle’s to fight ere the guerdon be gained,
The reward of it all.”$

Professor James says that when a dreadful object
like this is presented, the worthless among us lose
their hold on the situation altogether, and either escape
from its difficulties by averting their attention, or if
they cannot do that, collapse into yielding masses of
plaintiveness and fear. The heroic mind does differently.
To him, too, the object may be sinister and unwelcome,
but he faces it; he does not lose his hold upon that in
life which is greater, and then in a moment all the horror
is gone,

“For sudden the worst turns the best: to the brave,
The black minute’s at end .

Science and the nature of things echo the promise
of the throne “to him that overcometh.”
And this is the victory, even .... faith.

Il, GOVERNMENT—INSTRUCTION—DISCIPLINE.

Education has three means at its disposal for the
attainment of its end, viz., government, instruction,
and discipline. Herbart discusses the second first, not,
because it must necessarily precede the other two in

1 Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, 2 SpENSER’s Faerie Queen.
5 R. Brownina, Prospice.
lxiv INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART,

time, but because it involves certain psychical con-
siderations which require a preliminary explanation.
“For the same reason that in psychology presentations
were treated of before desire and will, in pedagogy the
theory of instruction must precede that of discipline.”
Again, in the Science of Education, he further explains
himself :—

“The circle of thought contains the store of all that,
which, being intensified by interest, rises to desire, and
then by means of action brings forth volition. The whole
inner activity indeed has its abode in the circle of thought.
Here is found the initiative life, the primal energy.”

And in the Aphorisms on Pedagogy, when speaking
of direct and indirect discipline, he says :—

“The latter is the more important, since it works on the
circle of thought, predisposing that circle to adopt certain
interests, and thereby co-operating in the determination of
character.”

I. Instruction.

In speaking of instruction, the first subject which
must be considered is that of the Herbartian doctrine
of apperception.

(a) Apperception.— Once when the Medes and Lydians
stood opposed, ready to fight a bloody battle, the heavens
suddenly darkened and the sun lost its light. Then they
recognized that their gods, Ormuzd and Mithras, were angry
at their deeds. They thereupon lowered their weapons and
concluded a peace with each other.”!

Yet after many years, when the same thing befell
another race, they went on with their quarrels, adjusted -
their telescopes, wrote columns for the journals of
science, but gave not a thought to Ormuzd or Mithras.
Perception was the same, apperception very different.

1 LANGE, Apperception, p. 9.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. lxv

The tiny inverted picture of the sunset on the retina
of a Ruskin and of the low type African are identical,
but do the two men sce the same? Nay, does the one
man at different times in his life see the same world?
Wordsworth wrote :—

“T have learned
To look on Nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth . . . and I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man,
A motion and a spirit that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things.”

But the blue sky and the sunset glow and the
tossing waves were for all who had eyes to see.

“When the boy in Goethe’s ballad mistakes a streak of
fog on the edge of the meadow for the Erlking, a shining
willow for the Erlking’s daughter, and in the whistling of
the wind hears the alluring, coaxing words of the water
sprite... we are not confronted by erroneous percep-
tions ; the senses do not deceive, not because they always
judge correctly, but because they do not judge at all.”

Even perception is an acquired thing, given to us by
a combination of sensational and reproductive brain
processes. As Reid says, “Nature is frugal in her
operations, and will not be at the expense of a
particular instinct to give us that knowledge which
experience and habit will soon produce.”

The infant goes through a long education before he
can grasp the realities perceived by adults, simply
because of this complexity. His mind must learn to
translate and give meaning to his own sense impres-

e
lIxvi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

sions. For what are these material things, of whose
reality we are so sure? Sensations of a red colour, a
sweet smell, a soft touch, and we say we perceive a
thing of beauty, a rose; but it is mind which has given
the unity ; mind, which in presence of the one sensa-
tion, will reproduce the others; mind, which may form
a wrong judgment about this real thing, which, in one
sense, is its own creation.

And, strange to say, no actual fusion need neces-
sarily take place between the sensational elements and
the reproduced ideas. As we look at a thing we may
feel the change in the sensations which the incoming
ideational elements produce. Prof. James, in his
Psychology, cites some curious examples :—

“This is probably the reason why, if we look at an
isolated printed word and repeat it long enough, it ends by
assuming an entirely unnatural aspect. Let the reader try
this with any word on this page. He will soon begin to
wonder if it can possibly be the word he has been using all
his life with that meaning. It stares at him from the
paper like a glass eye, with no speculation in it. Its body
is indeed there, but its soul is fled. It is reduced, by this
new way of attending to it, to its sensational nudity. We
never before attended to it in this way, but habitually got
it clad with its meaning the moment we caught sight of it,
and rapidly passed from it to the other words of the phrase.
We apprehended it, in short, with a cloud of associates, and,
thus perceiving it, we felt it quite otherwise than as we
feel it now, divested and alone.”

But we may have a still more curious proof of
this. The following illustrations are also taken from
Professor James’ Psychology. Let the reader take
them in order of difficulty, and notice carefully his
first impressions of (1) and (2) before proceeding
further. Now, if figure (1) has appeared to him a
cut diamond, and figure (2) as a tub upside down on
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION.  Ixvii

the floor, let him try to see (1) as a transparent glass
box, and (2) a tub right way up. It can be done by
the mind changing its conception of the distance from

 

 

Xs

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fie. (1). Fie. (2).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fia. (3).

the eye of the central lines in each figure. Figure (3)
is much more difficult ; in a large class nearly all easily
saw a solid block of steps. When asked if they could
change the idea, and imagine themselves looking at a
lxviii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

flight of stairs upside down, very few could see it. When
the lecturer had passed on to other subjects, a sudden
involuntary exclamation startled the class; the second
perception had at last come to another student, greatly
to her own surprise. If the reader has any difficulty
in forming this second perception he can generally
obtain it by trying to mentally draw out the lines
where the stair rods would be, as if they were actually
nearer the eye than the edge of the stairs. It may
also be seen by looking at the figure inverted.

We are now in a position to explain many so-called
sense illusions. Let A be the group of sensations of
colour, form, temperature, and resistance, produced by
a white marble monument. Let (a), (0), (c), and (@)
respectively represent these four attributes. A nervous
youth, passing through the churchyard by moonlight,
is aware of (a) and (6), which ought immediately to
call up (c) and (d). But they do not. They call up
other strong ideational elements, reproductions of the
legend of the murdered lady, whose story was read
the night before. In an instant she is before his eyes,
and not a moment does he pause to correct the error.
He takes to his heels, with the wailing of the ghost,
(or the sighing of the night wind ?), in his ears.

Thus, when our minds are full of anything, or any
person, the slightest similarity in an impression may
produce a mis-translation or illusion of the senses. As
Professor James puts it, “Twenty times a day the
lover, perambulating the streets with his pre-occupied
fancy, will think he perceives his idol’s bonnet before
him.” Imagination is thus constantly playing tricks
with our “sober senses.” Work is pressing, and we
have given orders to be called at five o'clock. The
knock comes, and we rise with the weary consciousness
of how tired we are. Suddenly the clock strikes seven,
we have slept peacefully for eight hours, and the
weariness changes to vexation at the lost time and
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION.  Ixix

the faithful servant! We tend to feel as we think
we ought to feel, to see what we expect to see.

But let us take Herbart’s careful analysis of these
phenomena.

Suppose one of the simplest forms of sensation
enters consciousness by the gates of the senses; that
is, a new object in the outside world produces a certain
nervous commotion in our organs of sight, touch, and
smell; these are translated by the mind into sensations
of whiteness, a soft yielding surface and a strong sweet
odour. The jirst effect caused by this entrance of the
new will be to stimulate the ideas already possessed
by the mind. It will repel what is unlike, and will
attract all that is similar. In this case other concepts
of flowers will be stimulated into activity, and the
class lily will be brought into special prominence. At
this stage of the process the new comer is undoubtedly
the most powerful influence in consciousness.

Herbart compares it to a-light coming into a dark
place, and casting its rays all around. The stimulated
ideas rise up round it like the arched vault of a cavern.

But the second stage begins with the steady arrest
of all the less similar ideas which at last allow only
the perfectly similar ones to come forward. The
images of one flower after another are thus checked,
till only lilies of a particular kind hover into con-
sciousness. What we are losing in quantity and
breadth we are gaining in intensity and vividness.
Or, to compare it again with the light in the cavern,
the similar ideas are now like the walls rising up
to a high point and forming the apex of the arch;
the irrelevant ideas retire into the background; the
light, from being diffused, is now focussing.

Lastly, the new perception takes its place among the
old ideas; we recognize the flower as the familiar lily’
of the valley, and there is to some extent a fusion of
the new with the old. This is what Herbart means by
lxx INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

the “vaulting” and “tapering” of presentations in
Letter XVII, and it is his clear analysis of this
process which has opened out the way for so much
subsequent research. In the assimilation, then, of
new knowledge, all depends on the presence of similar
ents in the concepts which already exist in the
ircle of thought; these will have to act as our apper-
ceiving factor. When the mental life is rich, percep-
‘tion is always accompanied by apperception, and the
‘latter occurs with special rapidity if these old and
‘similar elements already stand high and clear as
‘ruling ideas. As Lazarus says, in this case, apperceiv-
ing notions are “ like armed men in the strongholds of
consciousness, ready to hurl themselves upon every-
thing that appears at the portals of the senses, over-
coming and making it serviceable to themselves.” !

One important point remains to be noticed. It is
the old ideas which are really the most powerful, and
which retain control over the mind, and that for two
reasons.

1. The new percept loses its power as its stimu-
lating force subsides; in other words, the novelty
wears off.

__-2.-The old ideas in the mind are generally stronger
because of their old established connections.

The result of all this is that the new takes its place
~m the older series, it is adjusted to the system already
in the mind. As Professor De Garmo expresses it,
“ Apperception is then in general the process of giving
significance to facts by relating them to our more firmly
established knowledge.” He then proceeds to draw
our attention to Figure 1, pointing out that though we
could all probably describe the lines, we at first sight
see no idea, no purpose in the whole. If we are

1 Quoted in Lancu’s Apperception, p. 15.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. lxxi

reminded, however, that a painter once boasted that
he could by means of three lines represent a soldier
and his dog entering an inn, some will at
once associate the meaningless marks with
a system of ideas, because mind instantly
supplies the missing detatls.

Another example may make this plainer.
An air is played on the organ; it is some-
thing familiar, but we cannot give it a
name; it stimulates the activity of the
mental content. As it is on the organ,
images of various churches come into
consciousness, only to be arrested as un-
satisfactory and irrelevant. Suddenly
Westminster Abbey appears; yes, that
is somehow connected; it may stay. X
Thus stage II. is reached; the vaulting
gives place to tapering, as ideas cluster
definitely round the concept of the old Fro. (1).
building. A certain winter afternoon, Sun-
day, the crowded Abbey, the fading light, the preacher’s
text, all hover into consciousness. Some of them are
rejected as irrelevant, as the tapering centres on the
service, the anthem, the voluntary—there, you have it.
Stage III. is reached. The air is from an oratorio, and
fusion takes place with its satisfactory identification.

And now probably the new ceases to be the most
prominent thing in consciousness, as the mind wanders
off to the associations connected with an oratorio
which has been known for years. This brings us to
some details which have been much worked out by
Herbart’s followers.

A fairly weak series of ideas may, by virtue of their.
novelty and stimulating force, overpower the old; but
ultimately the victory will remain with that which is
deeply rooted in consciousness. For instance, an old
friend acts in a way which seems strange and unpleasant.

 
lxxli INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

It is inconsistent with our concept of his character,
and is painfully prominent at first in the mental world.
But, as we bethink ourselves, a change comes; the old
faith asserts its sway and we do not send the indignant
letter; extenuating circumstances, the probability of
mistake, the possibility of explanation come forward,
and we are wont to say that now we see the thing in a
new light. No, in this case, it is not anything new, it
is the light of our past; we see now what years of
intercourse have prepared us to see.

In connection with intellectual development, these
’ facts may have an unfavourable aspect. As Professor
James brings out, every new experience must be dis-
posed of under some old head. “The great point is
to find the head which has to be least altered to take
it in.” So our education is a ceaseless compromise
between the conservative and the progressive factors,
Very few can form new heads readily even to receive
fresh experiences. “Most of us grow more and more
enslaved to the stock conceptions with which we have
once become familiar, and less and less capable of
assimilating impressions in any but the old way. ‘Old
fogyism, in short, is the inevitable terminus to which
life sweeps us on..... Genius means little more than
the faculty of perceiving in an unhabitual way.” These
words should be specially compared with Herbart’s
remarks on “rigid minds” in Letter XVIII.

But this also seems to explain much of the loneli-
ness of human life. Two are together in one house,
yet they live in different worlds. There is only one
key to the locked door into another soul. That is
love; and it can do much, for by the magic of
sympathy we may eel what another is feeling, even
when the apperceiving factor, that is, the knowledge
of the cause of the feeling, is very imperféct. But even
then, how little we know, even of those nearest to us.
“Let it be your method,” said Marcus Aurelius, “to
THE HERBARTIAN TUEORY OF EDUCATION. Ixxili

contemplate spirits apart from the shell they are shut
up in.” But life is short, and the method difficult.
If we misunderstand ourselves, and fail to translate
the signs of the microcosmus, how great are our
mistakes with regard to each other.

‘So near, and yet so far apart,
No silver link of common speech
To bridge the shadowy space across
That separates us each from each.
We move on lines that never meet,
We never touch each other’s life;
Unknown, unread in tone or look,
The token of a hidden strife.”

Sometimes we miss much by this inability to enter
into other lives: the strength of sympathy for our-
selves, the more blessed opportunity of strengthening
others. But when all is done that is possible, we live
alone, and alone we die.

The senses furnish much the same characters to all;
to the one they are dim hieroglyphics, to the other
they are full of meaning and beauty.

“ All that meets the bodily sense I deem
Symbolical—one mighty alphabet
For infant minds, and we, in this low world,
Placed with our backs to bright Reality,
That we may learn with young unwounded ken
The Substance from the Shadow.” !

What if Coleridge’s figure were the actual truth ?
He is thinking of Plato’s cavern prisoners, who,
chained with their backs to the firelight, could see
only moving shadows and hear only echoes. Some
were satisfied that that was all there was in the
universe, but Socrates suggests that at last a prisoner
was freed. He came up out of the darkness into
the sunlight, and then he saw things as they were.

1§. T, CoLERIDGE.
lxxiv INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

At present the only medium between mind and the
macrocosmus is the body, and the limitations and
possibilities of error are many. But hereafter,... it may
be that Science is silent, but there are not wanting
“August anticipations, symbols, types,
Of a dim splendour ever on before” ;

It may be we too shall find

“The low dark verge of life
Is but the twilight of Eternal Day.”

“ To die, is gain.” How much that may mean.

Lazarus has worked out yet another development.
It is possible for a man to be unconscious of the
masses of old ideas which are really controlling that
which he apperceives. If the question arises, how
can we fail to notice such an important factor in
the mental world, we can only answer that human
obedience to the old Greek maxim, yyw6: ceavroy, is
more limited than we imagine. Professor Ward has
a curious passage in point in his article on psychology.
(Encyclo. Brit.) .

He points out how vague at best is our concept of
self: we see little bits at various times, but even then
the greater part is in shadow. Masses of feelings
and ideas may be gathering of which we are very
dimly conscious, and when the sudden call to action
comes we do that which surprises ourselves. This
is a generally recognized fact as regards feeling; it
has been less noticed that the same law applies to
thought.

-...s Do we realize in teaching that we are definitely
forming a circle of thought in a child’s mind, which
swill not only influence his present attainment, but

. .\will actually control what he shall apperceive as life
goes on? There are many perceptions which are not
apperceived at first. There is desultory talk which
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. Ixxv

seems to sleep in deaf ears; things which enter the
deep chambers of memory, and wait, sleeping, till years
after, another percept wakes them, and they come forth
and have to be reckoned with. It is rash indeed to
trust to the annihilation of a thought. We know
Jean Ingelow’s legend of the dead year—how she
buried the thing in state, and laid her dead out of
her sight, and thought it was safe in its marble shroud,
never to wound her again with its memories of pain.

“Year, I said, and turned away,
I am free of thee this day ;
All that we two only know
I forgive and I forego,

So thy face no more I meet
In the field or in the street.”

But it could not be. The dead drew the living into
the rock-hewn tomb; for the soul and its past are one.

We think we look at a new thing fairly, but the
dominant ideas, “the armed men in the stronghold
of consciousness,” seize it, and place it where they will.

So on purely scientific grounds we reach that which
men have called judicial blindness—incapacity to see
the right. Lack of knowledge at first sight appears a
plausible excuse for human failings. Yet “I did not
know ” may mean either “I never had the opportunity
of learning or the capacity to grasp this thing,” or,
“JT once had the chance, but I refused to follow the
light I had, ze I shut my eyes.” The first excuse
is certainly applicable to the insane, and possibly to
many of the heathen; but no one man can speak
definitely for another. The second ends in judicial blind-
ness, because by natural law, if the soul forms a low-
toned circle of thought, the faculty for the apperception
of spiritual beauty becomes proportionately weak. The
converse is equally true. Train the mind to see the
loveliness of nature, and you will form an apperceiving
lxxvi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

\factor for art; train it in the apperception of causal
relations, you will form one for science. Train it in
the perception of moral truth, to follow the light as
afar as it is seen, and you will develop an increased
sgapacity for the vision of absolute perfection. To
_zefuse one ray of moral light is to diminish our chance
#of seeing the next.
Wordsworth says of one :—

“His high endeavours are an inward light
That makes the path before him always bright” ;

and Milton also expresses it thus :—

“ I will place within them as a guide
My umpire conscience, whom, if they will hear,
Light after light well used they shall attain,
And to the end persisting safe arrive.”

We see some people with a strange influence for
good, and in their presence others seem instinctively
at their best. We explain it to ourselves by saying
that such have a high standard. But a standard is
that by which we measure ourselves and others—an
ideal, a thing of the mind. How then did they obtain
one that was higher than that of other men? Simply
by following the light as it came; whensoever they
saw that which was pure and lovely and of good
report, they dwelt on it, and it became a part of their
being. Therefore they see the good in all things and
all men, and sin and unholiness shrink from their
presence. They make men think of Plato’s mystic
city, whose citizens are scattered about in this world,
but who feel constrained to live according to the laws
of their homeland, “having nothing to do with any
other.” Sometimes the contrast is so sharp between
them and their environment, that familiar words in-
voluntarily occur to us: “They confessed that they
were strangers and pilgrims on the earth; they looked
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. Ixxvii

for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and
maker is God.”

The whole subject recalls two remarkable stories,
the scientific depths of which have yet to be fathomed,
They are tales of two Eastern lords.

One in high position was obliged to leave his
dominions, and having summoned certain of his
officers, possibly satraps of provinces, he left them
in charge of large but varying portions of his wealth.
The other also knew that he must be absent for a time,
but he committed certain small equal sums to the men
of his household. The owner of the property in the
first case received from the officers on his return sums
(according to our money) varying from about £200 to
£2000, but two of the men by diligence had doubled
the amounts entrusted to them. The result was an
exact equality of reward of a truly royal kind—the
friendship of their sovereign, and a place very near
the throne.

In the second case the sums received by the owner
on his return were but small. One man had raised
his few shillings to about £4 10s.; another had not
made so much; a third could only restore what had
been given. But the rewards were poles asunder.
One rose to almost royalty, another entered upon a
citizen’s life, the third sank to destitution.

The meaning of the first story is clear. Human
minds differ enormously in point of capacity; our
sense of justice forbids the thought that the work of a
Newton or a Dante should be expected of all. But
the second case emphasizes a less noticed fact, that in
one particular every soul has an equal chance. No one
is left without light, and the choice rests with the
individual as to how great that light shall be. The
dullest of intellects cannot prevent a soul rising to
ethical majesty. The results, then, were no arbitrary
rewards and punishments, but simply inevitable
lxxviii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

natural law. He who had been faithful in the very
little was morally fit for the royalty to which he rose.
He who had neglected the small things lost even that
he had, and when the time came for the great
crisis,—change, judgment, evolution, call it what you
will—he sank. The master was no tyrant. The
sentence which condemned the man was his own past.

It is science which reiterates that from him that
hath not, even that he hath shall be taken away.
Evolution, if nothing else, would thrust the unprofit-
able servant into outer darkness.

(b) Experience and Intercourse.

Before passing on to consider Herbart’s masterly
discussion of the concept of interest, a few words are
necessary to explain the relation of instruction to
experience and intercourse. “From Nature,” says
Herbart, “man gains knowledge and sympathy by
means of experience and intercourse.”

To dispense with them in education would be “to
dispense with daylight and content ourselves with
candlelight. Fulness, strength, individual definiteness
in all our presentations, practice in the application of
the general, contact with the real, with the country
and the age, patience with men as they are, all this
must be derived from these original sources of mental
life.” Yet “to leave man to Nature, or even to wish
to lead him and to train him up in nature, is merely
folly.” The risks are too great, the limitations too
serious. As Herbart says, “Human nature is like a
ship, constructed and arranged with highest art, that
it may be able to adapt itself to every change of wind
and wave, but it awaits the steersman to direct it to
its goal, and guide its voyages according to circum-
stance.”

Life is too short for us to allow children to stumble
painfully through the failures made by the race in past
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. Ixxix

ages. They have to live in the nineteenth century.
The adjustment, then, to environment should be made
as smoothly and rapidly as possible, provided the laws
of apperception are never infringed. We have said
that experience is seriously limited. The town child
is cut off from a most important series of perceptions,
and even in the country many a one fails to notice
natural objects without instruction. Ufer gives as an
instance that among 300 six-year-old country children
8 per cent. had failed to notice a grain field, 43 an oak,
26 had not been on any mountain, and 37 could not
tell how bread is made from corn.

Social intercourse is also limited. If sympathy is
confined to the family, the village, or even the father-
land, it will be too narrow.

“Ought we to conceal from ourselves how often that
which is distant is more exquisitely illuminated in de-
scriptions and drawings than the present; how much more
satisfying and elevating is intercourse with the ancients
than with contemporaries ; how much richer in insight is
idea than observation, and indeed how indispensable
to action is the contrast between the actual and what
ought to be?”

Again, our great object is to awaken in the child’s
mind a many-sided interest. But experience and
intercourse are often of necessity slow and un-
interesting. No doubt it is good for us to bear this,
That which George Herbert says of a hopelessly dull
sermon is true of many an important lesson in life,
“God takes the text and preaches patience,” and in
such a case the benediction undoubtedly comes at the
end. But the pupil should never be condemned to
suffer such a thing at the hands of the teacher. “To
be wearisome is the cardinal sin of instruction.” This
does not mean that everything is to be made easy and
like play. “It is the privilege of instruction to fly over
lxxx INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

steppes and morasses, and if it cannot always wander
in pleasant valleys it can train, on the other hand, in
mountain climbing, and reward with a wider prospect.”
The glow of triumph over difficulty may thus bring
interest into the driest subject.

\ It is the work of instruction to analyse the masses
.which experience has heaped together. Herbart
quaintly describes the mind of an uninstructed man as
a thing wherein there is no settled top or bottom, We
might add that the fact sought for generally seems at
the bottom, and like an article in an ill-packed trunk,
cannot come out without a good deal else. “ Everything
is mixed up together. The thoughts have not learned to
watt. On a given occasion all come forward, many
become excited by the threads of association at the
same time, and so come suddenly into conscious-
ness.”

Coleridge observes “that in the narrations of un-
educated people in Shakespeare, just as in real life,
there is a want of prospectiveness and a superfluous
amount of regressiveness. People of this sort are
unable to look a long way in front of them, and they
wander from the right path. They get on too fast
with one half, and then the other hopelessly lags.
They can tell a story exactly as it is told to them
(as an animal can go step by step where it has been
before), but they cannot calculate its bearings before-
hand, or see how it is to be adapted to those to whom
they are speaking, nor do they know how much they
have thoroughly told and how much they have not.
‘I went up the street, then I went down the street,
no, first went down, and then—but you do not follow
me; I go before you, sir.’ Thence arises the complex
style usually adopted by persons not used to narration.
They tumble into a story, and get on as they can,”! ~

1 BacEuor, Literary Studies, i. p, 145,
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. Ixxxi

(c) Interest.

It is the work of instruction to supplement and not
supersede experience and intercourse. “I confess,” says
Herbart, “to have no conception of education without
instruction, just’ as on the other hand I recognize no
instruction which does not morally educate.”

“Character forming is will training. The will springs
from the thought-complex which instruction has to form. ,
The educative value of instruction, then, consists of the -
influence which it shows with respect to the will.”

Some so-called instruction forces upon the child a
number of facts in which he really takes no interest.
Obviously no energetic volition will be the result of
such a process.

But interest itself may be of two kinds. We some-
times demand interest in a subject simply because
it will facilitate the acquirement of knowledge.
Slater’s “method,” explained in a small book published
some thirty years ago, is a case in point. Each of the
nine units is represented by one or more consonants,
and odd little sentences are drawn up with reference
to each date, wherein the initial letters of the words
give the key to the figures required. We give a few
examples :—

Now Semiramis, Beautiful Sinner
2 0 8 0
They Contrived a Balloon and Rose up
1 7 8 4
(The first balloon experiment in London)
Try Which of us Lacks Pluck
1 8 5 9
(The Volunteer Movement)
This is a Most Ruinous invention, Swartz
1 3 4 0
(Invention of Gunpowder)

1 Urer’s Introduction to Herbart, p. 58.

f
Ixxxii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

The psychology of the thing, of course, is that the
sentence arouses interest, and can easily be connected
with the fact, whereas the bare date was dull and
unpalatable.

Many other methods come under the same heading,
eg., counting with brightly-coloured beads, singing
the multiplication table, etc; in fact, whenever the
interest is used solely for the purpose of acquiring
knowledge, with no necessary connection with the
subject in hand. We notice that this, which Herbart
calls receptive interest, does not ensure that the facts
thus acquired will be utilized, nor has it necessarily
any effect on volition. Of quite another kind is
apperceptive or investigating interest. A child
attends a first lesson on botany, and an interest in
nature is aroused. On his walks he collects flowers,
in the holidays he adds to his specimens, till the taste
becomes a passion, and the schoolboy develops into
a scientist. In a lesser degree this is constantly
happening, and thus investigating interest becomes
the root of desire and volition.

‘ Herbart enumerates its four characteristics thus.
t is—

\-T. Far-reaching; as it ever seeks to extend the
knowledge gained.

L-~TI, Immediate; it is its own reward, “Alas! for
that kind of activity which makes us impatient for
the end, instead of rejoicing by the way.” If the
work is only done for the sake of passing the examina-
tion or gaining the prize, it is psychologically in vain.

III. Many-sided—* The mind’s interest depends on
the strength, variety, novelty, and varied succession of
... phenomena.”

_ Here comes in the danger of a too early specializa-
tion in any subject; the specialist is inclined to see
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. Ixxxiii

things out of proportion; he lives in his own little
sphere of thought; other men’s lives appear to him
small and distorted, his own immoderately important.
The youngest Fellow of Trinity is too apt to think
himself the prop of the University. “The earth is
weak, and J bear up the pillars of it,” is the mental
attitude of some, who would not after all be greatly
missed,

This explains the beauty of character which is
sometimes seen in the old, as distinguished from the
young. The former realize how vast and brilliant
truth is, and how here at best we see it broken into
the prismatic rays. As we draw nearer the larger life,
it dawns upon us that all the scattered colours must
unite before the glory of pure white light can really
shine.

Herbart distinguishes six kinds of many -sided
interest. Three arise from knowledge and three from
sympathy.

From knowledge we get—

1. Empirical interest, aroused by experience and
the observation of phenomena.

2. Speculative, which arises through a conscious-
ness of the mysterious relations existing in nature,
and leads on to the investigation of causes and origins,

3. Aisthetic, aroused by the perception of the
beautiful in nature, art, and morals,

From sympathy we get—

4, Personal interest, attaching itself to the sorrows
and joys of individuals.

5, Social, aroused by sympathy with the family and
the nation.

6. Religious, which embraces interest in the destiny
of the human race and its relation to God,
lxxxiv INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

We give as an illustration of this the chief points
in a lesson on the life of Sir Philip Sidney.
The forms of interest derived from knowledge are :—

1. Empirical, aroused by the presentation of details
concerning Sir Philip Sidney’s life—his bravery, personal
beauty, adventures at court, in camp, in battle, etc.

2. Speculative, aroused through considerations of
cause and effect—why he felt so strongly against Spain
and the Pope, why he went to the Netherlands, ete.

3. disthetic, aroused by admiration for “this flower
of knighthood,” the noblest type of the Englishman of
the age.

Those derived from sympathy are—

4. Individual and personal, aroused by sympathy
with the chivalrous soldier, who threw off his armour
so as to have no unfair advantage over his foe; with
the wounded man who gave up the only draught of
water to a dying comrade, ete.

5. Social, aroused by sympathy with the sorrow of
the nation at the death of their hero; sympathy also
with the national appreciation of his goodness.

6. Religious, aroused by sympathy with the race in
its progress, as shown in the development of such a
character; also by the consideration of the religious
forces of the age, and the fact that religion was the
ruling principle in Sir Philip’s life, etc.

The last characteristic of many-sided interest is that
it should be—

IV. Well-balanced.—The advance of modern science,
tending more and more towards the discovery of a
deeper unity in nature than we have yet dreamed
of, must be a special warning against that narrowness
which refuses an all-round study of phenomena. We
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. Ixxxv

are beginning to realize that a one-sided education is
not only loss as regards that which it omits, but is
also actually detrimental to the one study in which
it specializes. In other words, no amount of know-
ledge will make up for the lack of wisdom, which may
be the result of neglecting certain mental functions,
and allowing them no opportunity of development.

Herbart, however, warns us also against the opposite
danger. Many-sidedness must not degenerate into
frivolity. An enlarged curriculum, over-competition,
the pressure of nineteenth-century life, must not
hurry us into the position of “Jack of all trades,
master of none.”

‘Shall we, to avoid one-sidedness, plunge into frivolity?
The frivolous man is a new person every moment, or, at
any rate, the shades of character in him appear to change,
for he himself is properly a nonentity. He who always
yields to impressions and fancies has never possessed him-
self or his surroundings; the many sides are not there, for
the personality of whom they must be sides does not exist.”!

Herbart speaks elsewhere of a mind “scribbled over”
by the confused markings of an ever-changing environ-
ment. One might be tempted to wonder with Carlyle,
whether, when the clothes drop away from it, and the
vesture of mortality falls, there will then be anything
left by which we may recognize the poor frivolous
little soul!

Our reading is too often so “scrappy,” the demands
on our attention so frequent, even the claims on our
help so pressing, that at first sight it seems hardly
right to refuse response. But the real question surely
_is, How may we best serve our day and generation ?
' True, life is short, but for that very reason it demands
the best, the deepest that is in us, and if we would
give that we must have time to be ourselves,

1 Herpart’s Science of Education.
lxxxvi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

Hence Herbart emphasizes the need for what he
calls concentration (vertiefung) and reflection (besin-
nung) :—

“He who has at any time given himself up con amore to
any object of human activity understands what concentra-
tion means. It takes place when presentations are succes-
sively brought into consciousness in sufficient strength and
purity without obstructions. Besinnung, or reflection, is the
collecting and binding together of these presentations. The
more perfectly and purely these operations are performed
the greater will be the success of instruction.”

Since we are finite we require concentration, which
demands the banishment of irrelevant matter. It is
all important that a child should be able to concentrate
attention on some particular thing, to the temporary
exclusion of all others.

Since we are personalities we require reflection, lest
we should lose ourselves in our subject. The acts of
concentration mutually exclude each other; they: must
be united by subsequent acts of co-ordinating reflection.
They thus are set in order in their relation to each
other and to the personality.

These two processes, vertiefung and besinnung, form
the act of mental respiration, and must always alter-
nate with each other. For illustrations of their
practical use, the reader is referred to the specimen
lesson, pp. cxix, cxx. They bear an important relation
to interest on account of the dependence of the latter
on clear and bold outlines.

Three very important practical points in the Herbar-
tian theory of instruction remain to be discussed.

(d) The choice and arrangement of the material of
instruction, or The Culture Epochs.

(e¢) The co-ordination of material for instruction and
the connection between its branches, or Concentration.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. Ixxxvii

(f) The treatment of the subject matter, or The
Formal Steps.

(ad) The Culture Epochs.

The first maxim in the selection of material for in-
struction has been thus formulated by Professor Rein:—

“Only that should be subject matter which is able to
awaken and chain the interest of the scholars. Only such
material should be chosen as must necessarily awaken a
spontaneous permanent interest in every child of normal
mental endowments.”

But, as we have seen, one of the psychological
conditions of interest is the recognition of similarity,
and this demands the most exact consideration of
the stages of apperception. Goethe puts it thus:
“ He could be genuinely esthetic-didactic who could
enter with his scholars into all that is worth feeling,
or could bring it before them exactly at the moment
at which it culminates, and when they are most
highly sensitive.” Elsewhere he states still more
clearly: “The human mind receives nothing which
does not suit it.” Shakespeare also pointedly empha-
sizes this fact in his mysterious conception of the
supernatural in Macbeth. There the same appearance
is before the eyes of two men. Banquo even sees the
witches first, and looks curiously at their strange forms.
But they are nothing to him. To Macbeth they are
full of meaning; they shake his “single state of man,”
and the reason is that they, like the phantom dagger,
only marshal him “ the way that he was going.”

Goethe noticed also another fact: “Although the
world in general advances, the youth must always
start again from the beginning, and as an individual
traverse the epochs of the world’s culture”; that is

-to say, in our search for subjects of interest we must
bear in mind the psychological law that mental de-
lIxxxvili INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

_—velopment in the race and in the child follow the same
lines. To again quote Dr. Rein :—

“The material and the formal points of view coincide.
A people does not stand at once upon a definite height
of culture; centuries of zealous and unwearied labour are
necessary before the height can be reached. It must climb
up from lower to ever higher stages; it must pass from
simpler to ever more complicated relations in order to
satisfy the bent for improvement and the realization of
the kingdom of God upon earth. And the individual,
the same as the people, rises in his development from
lower to ever higher stages, from simpler to ever richer
mental contents, if only his ideal tendency be not smothered
by material sensuality, or by the feeling that he has already
attained a fine height.”

But is there a real analogy between the development
of the race and of the child ?

The history of language and its expression is a
remarkable corroboration of the theory.

Vision in the child is undoubtedly first directed
outward. External objects are the subjects of atten-
tion long before internal processes. The first words
are the names of the immediate surroundings of home
—father, mother, food, natural objects, furniture, etc.
But philology now takes us back to the childhood of the
race. It tells us that most of the European languages
have been developed from Indo-European—the speech
of a great pre-historic tribe which probably lived near
the Himalayas. By a careful comparison of cognates,
we can trace the ancient roots running through the
whole family—Celtic, Latinic, Hellenic, Teutonic, etc.,
etc. They prove to us that the farther we go back
the more presentive language becomes, and the less
symbolic; that is, there are words, and in some cases
signs, for the sensuous and the visible, but no terms at
all for the abstract and invisible. Hence ald our abstract
terms are derived from the names of objects of sense.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION, lxxxix

The Greek Wux7, the Hebrew nephesh, the Latin
anima, the French dme, all meant originally “breath.”
Soul signified first that which flows, and hence it came
to mean moving power. The abstract idea of a non-
material being was almost inconceivable to the Homeric
mind, as it is to the child’s of to-day.

“ With Homer the vx is only the vital force personified,
an ethereal body within one that is material, separable from
the latter, and existing as a shadowy form (eiSwAoyv), a figure
in a dream, or a column of smoke (Odyssey, x. 495, xi. 222) ;
the visible body is the real man (Iliad, i. 4, xxiii. 65), As
soon, therefore, as the shades in Hades have drunk blood
consciousness returns again to them (Odyssey, x. 494, xi. 220),
so that they again feel pleasure, pain, love and hatred.”

The soul of the Trojan hero descends to the shades,
but he himself is a prey to dogs.

Probably the same bewilderment possesses the mind
of the thoughtful child of to-day when he hears us
speak of death. He is told, perhaps, that “mother”
is gone away to that “happy land” of which his hymns
speak ; but he sees a grave covered with flowers, and,
even if the actual sight of death is kept from him, the
question soon arises, “ How did mother go? She was
ill; how did they take her?” It remains a mystery
to him, partly because mental development is not
sufficiently advanced.

The symbolic expression of language affords another
striking illustration. It is, of course, a highly con-
ventional and abstract idea to use the forms of the
alphabet as symbols for certain sounds, The actual
origin of our letters will probably never be satis-
factorily traced, but there can be no doubt that they
began with something much more definite than they
are now. The inverted head and two horns of an ox
is probably the origin of our A (A), and the Hebrew
Beth 3. (B) certainly suggests its supposed earlier
meaning of house.
xc INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

Plate I. is a set of examples from other primitive
languages. In Fig. 7 (the Turanian sign of an open
hand) we have a case of the ideogram, which was
simply the picture for the thing, developing in course
of time into the ideograph or symbol for the abstract
idea of seizing, possessing, and understanding.

In Figure 1 we have an inscription found upon
a tree in Ohio. It was probably cut by Indians, and
commemorates a battle with the English. On the
right we have depicted an engagement of six days’
duration; underneath one of four. To the left we see
a fortified camp, near which is a tortoise, denoting
security. Below are six Indians on the war-path;
and, lastly, there is one Englishman with a head, and
another somewhat significantly without one.

It is, however, in the Egyptian hieroglyphics, Plates
IL-V., that we get the most complete example of
the development of language and the remarkable
similarity in this respect between the child and the
race. The latest research shows that primitive
Egyptian was purely monosyllabic and without in-
flexion, being written simply with ideographic signs;
that is, it had a stage parallel to that in which the
child only names the objects round it. The first step
towards inflexion was the use of substantives in
symbolic senses for prepositions and adverbs, the
primitive ideographic signs being still sufficient for
the purposes of writing.

Later we see the usage of phonetics coming in,
followed by ideographs, which are employed as deter-
minatives. The highly abstract ideas which are thus
symbolized are worthy of special notice. The simple
picture of the man squatting and eating (IL, Fig. 14)
has become the symbol for speech and thought; while
the calf’s head may denote breath, sleep, or pleasure.

The connection between 9, 10, and 54 should be
noticed. The first, representing a curl, also conveyed
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1. Indian inscription found upon a tree in Ohio, Subject: An engagement with
the English. 2. Chinese, representing a child.
3. Chinese, representing ‘‘ right.” 4, Chinese, representing ‘‘ left,”
5. Turanian (Accadian), representing a house.
6. Turanian (Accadian), representing a town.

7. Turanian (Accadian): i. Ideogram for open hand; ii. Ideograph for seizing,
possessing, understanding.
Prats IV.

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84, Tepat=a fish. 35. SpER=approach.

86. RemM=weep: the three strokes representing tears.

87. Neraru=gods: the plural is formed by thus repeating the hieroglyph
thrice. 88. Kzernu=night. 39. Ua=one.

40. SAa=one hundred. Sen=ten million; also eternity,

41, Szn=a tree. 42. BENER=a palm tree.

43, Suren=king: a figure bearded like the gods,

44, Sunt=egg, followed by its ideograph.

45. Marennu=roads, with the lotus flower growing on each side,

46, Anep=wall, 47, Iaswater, 48. Tersdepth, 49, ANER=stone,

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60, Art=milk : a jar with the fluid emblem issuing from the top.

51, Pet= Heaven. 52. Spa=star. 53, SzcueT=field.

54. AneM=colour. 55. Nus=gold: the rings of gold appear underneath.
56. Hen=fire. 57, Nep=Lord. 58. Ma= water.

59, TEneR=hide ; the headless skin only appears.

60. Pa=house, 61, Ta=earth.
XCvi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

the determining ideas of hair, blackness, colours, grief,
and turns. This usage as a determinative is seen in
10 and 54.

Another specially worthy of attention is 16. From
the simple picture of a child with its hand to its
mouth, are developed the highly abstract ideas of
education and renewing. The hieroglyphics, if written
on the papyrii, are rudely drawn, but when cut upon
stone or marble they are accurate and well balanced,
due regard being given to picturesque decorative
effect. We have no actual inscription which can be
said to belong to the infancy of Egyptian art, but
we must presuppose a set of signs which dealt only
with inanimate objects, and which were incapable of
expressing abstract ideas.

The Egyptian language was, like other tongues,
affected by the operation of those physiological laws
now so familiar to students of comparative philology,
through which, in the course of ages, the entire aspect
of a language is gradually altered. Even as early
as the 19th Dynasty phonetic decay had brought
about considerable modifications in the use of the
hieroglyphics.

The principle of the analogy between the develop-
ment of the child and the race once being granted, it
remains for the teacher to study most carefully the de-
velopment of national culture, so as to find some parallel
age of human history which will furnish materials for
instruction. Herbart says that we ought to present
to the boy such men as he himself would like to be;
but, however great our poetical genius, that will be
a sorely difficult task. We are adults; our minds are
full of pedagogic notions and our own experiences;
we are, above all, the product of a highly developed
and conventional age. There is a better way. We
must go back to the childhood of the world, the tale of
Troy, the wrath of Achilles, the daring of Odysseus.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. xcVli

The Herbartians maintain that the mind of a child
of six is at much the same stage of development as that
of our ancestors at the dawn of history, so that the best
material, in this case, will actually be the fairy tales
which the past has bequeathed to us. Hence the
central topics for instruction during the first year of
school life consist of some dozen of the simplest
legends current among the countryfolk in the neigh-
bourhood of the school. This is actually carried into
practice under Dr. Rein’s directions at Jena, and in
many other Herbartian schools in Germany. For the
second year of school life, the story selected as most
adapted to the content of a child’s mind at the age of
seven is that of Robinson Crusoe, but for the little
German he sails, not from York, but Hamburg!

For the further practical working out of the theory
the reader can refer to Rein’s Pedagogics, translated by
Van Lieu, or to the discussion of the school curriculum
in the Encyclopedia of Pedagoyy by the same author.
The latter is now published as a separate article.

(e) Concentration.

“ All conceivable expedients should be devised in order
that time and energy may be economized and an intensity in
the results of instruction be attained, through unity in the
foundations, association of related materials, and the com-
bination of mutually complementary elements. If in
certain courses of study history of the Middle Ages,
readings from Herodotus, geography of America, and
German literature since Lessing, are found side by side
at the same time, we ought to be glad, if . . . the children
do not trouble themselves much about some of these things,
but... rather devote their energies to the independent culti-
vation of some special portion of the field of instruction.”}

The desire to avoid this serious danger has led to
the working out of the theory of concentration in the
school curriculum.

1 Quoted in Rrrn’s Pedagogics, p. 102.
g
XCViil INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

In the first place, concentration is directly opposed
to the so-called concentric circles. According to the
latter method, the child is to pass through the simplest
elements of all branches of instruction in the earlier
school years, and then to repeat the work in more
detail as he grows older. The series of text books on
“Primary,” “Intermediate,” and “Higher Geography ”
are based on this theory. The objections which have
been urged against it are—

1. The loss of interest. Jean Paul, when speaking
of the restlessness of city life, says, “We become
indifferent to men only when we see them often and
not rightly, when we associate with many without
becoming rightly acquainted with one.”

As Lange observes :—

“Might not that hold good also with historical characters,
who hasten, according to the ‘concentric circles,’ in motley
array every year or two across the threshold of the childish
consciousness? Does not many a pupil become frightfully
indifferent to the ideal figures of Biblical history, and to
those of his country, because he had intercourse with too
many, one after the other, without ‘being rightly acquainted
with any one’?

“That which is to become a power in the pupil, and to be
closely welded to his most cherished thoughts and feelings,
must not pass hurriedly and unconnectedly before his soul
like the images of a kaleidoscope; it must occupy him long
and uninterruptedly.” }

2. The waste of mental energy. This is due to the
constant breaking up of the old series of ideas and the
formation of new ones. Having thoroughly mastered
a certain sequence of events in a reign, the pupil is
required next year to change this series for one which
contains more details. The first then often becomes
confused and lacking in clearness.

1 LANGE, Apperception, p. 187.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. xcix

In contrast to this, those who hold the dual theory
of the culture epochs and the concentration centres
claim for their system—

I. That the material offered for instruction is
adapted to the child’s mental attainments. As Prof.
Rein states it, the “ascending series of the chief
historical stages can rely upon a corresponding series
of stages in the development of the inner life of the
pupil, and hence upon his deepest interest.” \

II. That the sequence and co-ordination of the
material is so arranged as to ensure a thorough and
many-sided course of apperception. “The psychologi-
cal basis,” says Mr. Harris, “for the principle of |
concentration is to be found in the activity of °
apperception.”

Concentration in instruction demands the fixing
of éntion on some one object, and the group-

ing round it of all that is in any way related in the
previous knowledge, environment, home, ete. of the
child. Concentration in the curriculum demands a
like centre of unity for the different parts of the
material of instruction.

Herbart himself divided instruction into two main
branches, the one for understanding, the other for
feeling and imagination.

“ The centre of the educator’s activity is the develop-
ing personality of the pupil, to which the manifold
interests must always be referred.” Therefore, as the
worth of a man consists in character rather than mere
knowledge, all the branches of instruction must be
subordinated to those which most directly discipline
the will, viz., the humanistic group. To supplement
experience, then, which constitutes Herbart’s first line
of instruction (viz. that for the understanding) we
require natural science in the widest sense. To supple- '
Cc INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

ment intercourse, which deals with feeling and
imagination, we require the historical humanistic
branch, and it is this which should exercise the real
ascendency.

Dr. Rein tabulates it thus?:—

The Circle of Thought.

ee &.
A, EXPERIENCE. B, INTERCOURSE.

Things of the environment. Men of the environment.

Nature. Life.

Knowledge. Sympathy.

Broadening of Experience. Broadening of Intercourse.

Natural Sciences. Historical Branches.

Realistic Direction. Humanistic Direction.

Concentration demands that these two lines shall not
be carried on independently, but shall be brought into
the closest possible association, under a dominating
humanistic influence.

Although many of the attempts to carry out this
theory have provoked ridicule, and although there
is danger that, in our efforts at connecting that which
nature has separated, we should form really false
associations, there can nevertheless be no doubt that
the psychological principle involved is of the highest
importance, and has received far too little attention in
education.

Two aspects of the subject should be noticed—

I. The important connection between concentration
and memory, and hence the bearing of the former on
the content of the circle of thought.

IL. The effect of concentration on the application of
knowledge to life, hence its bearing on the form,
structure, and movement of the presentation masses.

First, then, concentration, through its close connec-
tion with memory, affects the content of the circle

1 Pedagogics, p, 111.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. ci

of thought, and thus influences the formation of the
apperceiving factor.

Professor James points out that the phenomena of
memory involve two things: (a) recall, () retention ;
the cause of both is the law of habit in the nervous
system working in the association of ideas. The basis,
then, of memory is found in the law that “when
two elementary brain processes have been active
together or in immediate succession, one of them, on
re-occurring, tends to propagate its excitement into the,
other.”

(a) Association explains recall. We try to remem-
ber the context of the sentence, “ After life’s fitful
fever he sleeps well.” The missing lines themselves
are not in consciousness, but the mind rapidly surveys
all the connected ideas in the hope that one will
suggest what we are seeking. Sleep, death, Duncan,
murder, treason, some such series as this may be
recalled by association, and suddenly the thing sought
for is there.

“Duncan is in his grave.

After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well.
Treason has done his worst.”

“In short, we make search in our memory for a
forgotten idea, just as we rummage our house for a
lost object. In both cases we visit what seems to
us the probable neighbourhood of that which we
miss.”

(6) Association explains retention, which after all
only means the possibility of recall: its basis is the
existence of brain paths which associate the experience
with the occasion and cue of the recall. Memory
being thus altogether conditioned by these paths in the
brain, its excellence will depend partly on their number
and partly on their persistence. Instruction has but
little to do with the second condition. The quality of
cii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

permanence in the paths is a physiological peculiarity,
and greatly varies in different individuals and in
the same person at different periods of life. Professor
James thinks, that though tenacity is greater in fresh
and vigorous hours than in sickness or weariness,
no amount of culture can really modify a man’s
general retentiveness. Some minds are like wax under
a seal, no impression, however disconnected with others,
is wiped out. Others, like a jelly, vibrate to every
touch, but, under usual conditions, retain no permanent
mark. Some of the historical examples of memory
point to the possession of amazing retentiveness of
the physiological sort. Cyrus and Cesar, for instance,
knew all the names of their soldiers. Themistocles’
memory was such as to lead him to wish for an art of
forgetting. Mithridates knew twenty-two languages,
and the elder Seneca could reproduce 3000 words
repeated to him. All these cases may to some extent
be due to what Kant calls the mechanical power of
learning by heart, ze, to the possession of desultory
memory which has its origin in the unusual tenacity of
the brain substance for any path once formed therein.
“But there comes a time of life for all of us when
we can do no more than hold our own in the way of
acquisitions, when the old paths fade as fast as the new
ones form in our brain, and when we forget in a week
quite as much as we learn in the same space of time.”
That is, the physical tenacity generally deteriorates in
middle life, and we vainly regret the powers of child-
hood. Fortunately there is compensation at hand, for
retention also depends on the number of the brain
paths. “In mental terms, the more other facts, a fact
is associated with in the mind, the better possession of
it our memory retains,” or, as Professor James again
says, “Of two men with the same outward experiences
and the same amount of mere native tenacity, the one

1 James's Psychology, p. 208.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. cli

who thinks over his experiences most, and weaves them
into systematic relations with each other, will be the
one with the best memory.”

We could scarcely have a stronger statement than
this as a support to the theory of concentration. The
formation of an orderly but highly complex network
of brain paths is its actual physical aim: once let that
be attained and the strength afforded by union will be
seen in the increased vigour and Glearness of repro-
duction. The mind content can thus undoubtedly be
increased at a minimum expenditure of effort.

II. Concentration has also an important influence on
the form and mobility of the circle of thought, and
hence on the application of principles to life.

If we leave the mind absolutely at the mercy of the
law of association, it is in danger of what Professor |
James calls “total recall—a perpetual treadmill of
concrete reminiscences, from which no detail can bel
omitted.” The only escape from this state lies either
in some sudden interruption from the outside world, or
in the presence of some dominant controlling tendencies °
in the mind itself, which draw some elements of the\
past into the full light of consciousness, and suppress
others as irrelevant. :

It is the special aim of concentration to form these’
dominant masses, which will select and set in order
the multiform products of experience. We all know’
the opposite type of mind—the student who always
fails to catch the point of a lecture, the witness who is
the despair of barristers, because he seems unable to
state the bare facts which his senses have told him, the
examinee who discusses all things in heaven and earth
except what was asked. Miss Bates in Jane Austen’s
Emma has been quoted as one of the many classical
examples :—

“¢But where could you hear it?’ cried Miss Bates.
‘Where could you possibly hear it, Mr. Knightley? For
civ INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

it is not five minutes since I received Mr. Cole’s note—no,
it cannot be more than five—or at least ten—for I had got
my bonnet and spencer on, just ready to come out. I was
only gone down to speak to Patty again about the pork—
Jane was standing in the passage—were not you, Jane 1—for
my mother was so afraid that we had not any salting pan
large enough. So I said I would go down and see, and
Jane said, ‘Shall I go down instead? for I think you have
a little cold, and Patty has been washing the kitchen,’” etc.,
etc.

The wise listener does not get angry; he waits
patiently, because he knows it is not intentional; it is
the way this mind works, and no exasperation on his
part will hurry or alter it. Concentration in early
training might have changed matters, but now very
little can be done.

Lastly, concentration is intimately connected with
“the formation of the will. “Great moral energy,” says
» Herbart, “is the result of broad views, and of whole
_unbroken masses of thought.” ?

Life principles are not the growth of a day. If they
are to stand the stress of circumstances they must be
deep-rooted, with their fibres woven into the inmost
being. Concentration, emphasizing as it does the
humanistic side, really demands that every part of
instruction shall be pervaded with the same high tone.
As Herbart says, all men start in life with much the
same natural inclinations. We all shrink from pain,
we welcome~pleasure: the differentiation comes in
when we begin to put a definite value on desire, that
is, when we decide how far we are prepared to go to
achieve its attainment. “We must know how dear
our wishes cost us. The-trivial . .. must fall to the
ground before the greater, the more important.”

Many of the crises of life assume this form, We
have to decide between two courses, and neither seems

1 Science of Education, translated by FELKIN, p. 222.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. cv

absolutely wrong; the vital question remains, Which
is of most worth? A just valuation of the objects
of desire is the aim of concentration. “For the ideal
ae as Herbart expresses it, “each thing has a limited
value.”

One only should “ fill the mind with illimitable en-
deavour,” and that is the highest. Therefore “he that
loveth his life” overmuch shall lose it ; they, too, who
love the world are mistaken, for “the world passeth
away, and the lust thereof,” that is, there is loss again,
because the soul is immortal, and the things which are
seen are temporal. Therefore, they alone are blessed
“who hunger and thirst after righteousness,”

(f) The Formal Steps. —-—~

This brings us to that part of Herbartian theory
which has provoked the most severe criticism. The
very name of “method” seems obnoxious to many,
while Glayre’s reproachful words to Pestalozzi are still
hurled at Herbartians, both in Germany and England.
“Vous voulez mécaniser ]’Education.” Yet what do
we mean by method? Herder said, “Every teacher
must have his own method; he must have created it
himself, through his own intelligence, or it is of no
advantage to him.” According to this, the educational
world is in a worse position than was Israel in the
days of the Judges, when “every man did that which
was right in his own eyes.” Certainly in such a
state of things it is in vain to talk of general prin-
ciples or laws of mind, and Herbartianism becomes
a myth.

Comenius, however, thought differently. “There is
but one natural method,” he said, “for all sciences,
arts, and languages.” If we recognize a science of
mind at all we must accept the hypothesis that
psychical processes conform to law; therefore there
can be only one natural method of instruction, that,
evi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

namely, which renders a perfect obedience to these
laws. Here, as elsewhere, we can subdue Nature only
by obeying her. So the natural method becomes an
ideal towards which we would humbly strive. Humbly,
never forgetting the enormous debt we owe to our
predecessors; but still hopefully, since we recognize
the great advance made in our own day by that
psychology which must of necessity be our guide in
the future. The modern leaders of the Herbartian
school strongly deny the charge of wishing to lay
down hard and fast rules, or, in a word, to mechanize
education. To quote again Dr. Rein :—

“The truth must, nevertheless, be advanced against .. .
scorners of all method; even the most happily constituted
nature, the teacher by divine grace, is not restricted nor
rendered ineffective by the directions of method; on the
contrary, his activity is promoted and rendered truly
effective. . . . No one will assume that the highest stage
in development has been reached ; everyone will admit that
recent improvements only advance us one step further on
the way that leads to the highest goal, viz., the finding
of the one natural method of teaching.”

From the apparent labyrinth of abstract conceptions
to be found in Herbart’s Science of Education, Professor
Ziller of Leipzig has elaborated a series of practical
rules for the guidance of teachers. We will suppose
the material of instruction is before us. “The subject
matter to be treated must first be separated into small
divisions, small wholes of instruction or methodical
unities, each one of which is to be subjected to an
elaboration by itself.” “The one criterion of a well-
chosen method unit is the single, chief, general truth
which is embodied in its content. Its treatment
yrequires a regular process of generalization.”

Here we see one of the most important Herbartian
principles, viz., that, as Dr. Rein explains it, the whole
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. evii

of the process of learning may be summed up under
two activities :—

1. The attainment of clear, distinct percepts.
2, The deduction from them of accurate general
notions.

The first activity is that of the apperceptive process,
and divides again into two:—

(a) The preparation of necessary, related, and already
known material.
(0) The presentation of the new ideas.

The second is the process of abstraction, dividing
into :—

(a) The comparison of all known cases.
(6) The extraction of the essential and the generally
valid.

One last step completes the process; it is the appli-
cation of the knowledge, that it may become ability
and power, which is always at command.

_ These results may be thus summarized :—

HERBART AND ZILLER.

Stace]. Apprrcertion Step I. Cxzar- ( (a) Analysis (prepara-

(to obtain clear, dis- NEss. tion).

tinct percepts). (b) Synthesis (pre-

sentation).

Sracr II. Azsrraction (Step II. Assocra-

(to deduce accurate TION.

general notions). Strep III. System.

Srer1V. Metruop
(application, function).

The aim of instruction, then, is to lead the child
to pass easily from the particular to the general.
Many great thinkers are agreed on this point. “ Per-
ceptions,” says Kant, “without conceptions are blind,
just as conceptions without perceptions are empty.”
Cvili INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART,

“A boy,” writes Lessing, “whose whole mental powers
are, so far as possible, constantly extended in every direction ;
who is accustomed rapidly to compare all that is daily added
to his store of knowledge with what he knew yesterday,
in order to see if through this comparison he does not come
upon things which were never told him; who is constantly
led out of one science into another; who is taught fo
rise from the particular to the general as easily as to descend
JSrom the general to the particular again, such a boy must
become a genius, or one can become nothing in this world.”
In his letters he writes still more definitely. ‘‘Only the
skill to rise quickly in every emergency to universal truths
makes the great mind, the true hero in virtue, the discoverer
in science and art.”

The importance of this principle may be shown
in all branches of knowledge. What really is genius
‘but a marvellous power of seeing into the inner
crelations of things? The great mind can pass over
the petty details and differences which distract the
smaller folk, and, by what seems almost like intuition,
is able to grasp the underlying unity. For ages men
had noticed the fall of weights to the earth; for ages
they had observed the movements of the moon in the
midnight sky. It was the leap of genius which
connected these particular facts under the universal
law of gravitation. So it is an important moment
in mental development when a child realizes, that
Euclid’s proof of the equality of two triangles applies,
not only to the two particular figures, but to every
conceivable triangle which fulfils the conditions.

Again, in history and literature, which deal with
human conduct, all depends on whether we arrive at the
underlying ethical principles. In this we are simply
following in the footsteps of all the great teachers,
poets, and historians. These are the “seers” of the
ages, for amid the tangle of human circumstances they
see and bring out before men’s eyes the golden threads
‘THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. cix

of universal truth. We get absorbed in particulars, in
the endless little details of our own lives and of those
about us; and only as we are drawing near the end do
we begin to realize why certain things happened, why
some things were withheld. In literature we look at
our own lives “writ large.” In Macbeth we see the
result of yielding to the thought of evil, in Sidney the
beauty of self-sacrifice, in Spenser the striving after
the ideal. Thus in teaching we have specially to avoid
the present-day risk of too many details. We white-
wash our villains and lose our heroes. We watch
Elizabeth coquetting before her glass, and trifling
through the petty nothings of court life, till we lose
sight of her greatness and her love for England. We
have read ourselves into the weak position of con-
temporaries, and have come down from our vantage
ground of time; and so we fail to grasp the main
drift of the character, and the lesson of the life is lost.
The poet looks through the coloured veil! of Nature
which sometimes distracts our weaker sight, and he
sees her perfect beauty, sees that which is eternal and
unchanging behind the play of phenomena, and the
ceaseless variety of the becoming; sees that, over
which even the mighty Titaness Mutabilitie has no
power.? These are the imperishable lessons of literature
and history.

We have seen that the sum of the method units
will give us the amount of subject matter which is to
be mastered in a given period. It is impossible to
determine the time required in every case for the five
formal steps, as all depends on the subject and the
child’s stage of development. In arithmetic, geometry,
or physics, a method unit might be completed in the
one hour, whereas in geography, history, or language

1 See SpensEr’s Faerie Queen, vii.; Mutabilitie, vii. 5, 6; and
Cuaucenr’s Parliament of Fowles.
2 Spenser's Mutabdilitie, vii. 58.
cx INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

we might require several. Having decided on the
subject of the lesson, the first thing in Herbartian
practice is the “Statement of the Aim.” This, in
Dr. Rein’s phraseology, is included under the head-
ing of the first step, which he calls Preparation.
-.. The object is to give the thoughts of the pupil a
definite tendency, to arouse expectation, stimulate
‘interest, and give intellectual activity from the
beginning that impress of work tending towards a
definite end, which distinguishes it from mere play.
Nothing betrays the unskilful teacher more clearly
than a bad beginning. As a rule the statement
should be simple, introducing no unknown words or
concepts, and it should have a concrete rather than
a formal content.

This brings us to the first formal step :—
Analysis,
Synthesis.
.\ Analysis corresponds to Dr. Rein’s first step of
Preparation, and its purpose is to pave the way for
apperception. It consists of a carefully-conducted
analysis of the presentations in the child’s mind.
One of its best forms is that of a skilfully-guided
conversation with the children, as this causes a free
rise of presentations on the subject already introduced
by the statement of the aim.

I, CLEARNESS,

“Then the dullest mind has time to act, and even the
retiring disposition is encouraged by the confidential tone
of conversation. No one should be omitted in the relation
of his experience, and each, according to the measure of
his knowledge, will add something to the new thought
structure. Everyone rejoices that his own knowledge,
which has heretofore been smuggled in as forbidden
ware, as compared with the word of the teacher, is
recognized and respected, and each looks forward to every
new lesson with redoubled interest. This condition of
mind is the most favourable that the new material can
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. exi

meet; the apperceptive process is introduced in the very
best way possible.}

Synthesis corresponds to Professor Rein’s Presenta-
tion of the new facts. This step is governed by the
law of successive clearness. As Professor De Garmo
expresses it, “The matter of instruction must not be
presented in the mass, but in small, logically-connected
sections, to each of which in succession the pupil
should give his undivided attention.... These two
processes, absorption in individual notions and their
apperception as connected,’ are what we have
already referred to as Concentration and Reflection.
Herbart compares them to the process of breathing,
the inspiration and expiration of the soul.

II. Assocration. This third step begins the process
of abstraction, by the comparison of the new facts with
the old. The mind must be carefully guided to those
special associations which will bring out the general
truth of the method unit. In this way the universal
is gradually reached through the particular, and the
whole is arranged and classified by

III. System. (Generalization, classification.) It has
been said that this really completes the process of
abstraction, and requires (1) “the separation of the
notional from the concrete ; (2) the formulation of th
statement of the notional in language; (3) the placing
of the concept thus attained in its proper place in.
already formed series of concepts, 2.¢., 1ts classification
(4) the repetition and securing of the concept.

The form assumed by this step, of course, varies
with the subject in hand. In history it may find
expression in some ethical, social, or political maxim ;
in science, in the formation of a classification, the

1 LANGE, Apperception, p. 212,
cxii INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

drawing up of a table of genera, families, etc., which
furnishes in a concise form the generalized result of
the observations; in geography, system may appear in
the drawing of a map.

~ IV. Mernop. (Application.)

“Perhaps the worst thing,” said Pestalozzi, “which an
evil genius has presented to this age is knowledge without
ability to use it.”

“When the reviewing and applying are omitted, when
the range of thought is constructed without being united in
every possible way with the other groups of ideas, the power
of influencing thoughts subordinate to it is lost, no matter
how clear the range of thought may be in itself. Then it
forms, as it were, an upper house of ideas, independent of
the lower house, and not taking into account other ideas.”

“When the pupil does not put away his school thoughts
with his school implements, but likes to make use of what
he has learned in school, outside of it; when, for example,
he borrows the characters of history and imitates them in
work and play; when he carries out practically what he
has learned in natural history; when he voluntarily seeks
to extend and fix what he has learned by observation and
by diligent research ; then a proper mental activity has been
attained, then we see knowledge that is in the very best
way to be transposed into volition. This is what Goethe
meant when he said, ‘The secret of teaching consists in
reducing problems to postulates.’” 2

The tendency to neglect the application of what is
learnt to the affairs of life may involve serious conse-
quences. The gradual growth of a separation between
\the world of presentations and feelings, and that of

action is most disastrous to character. Professor
James well expresses it thus :—

1 How Gertrude Taught Her Children.
2 Lanen, Apperception.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION.  cxiii!

“A tendency to act only becomes effectively ingrained
in us in proportion to the uninterrupted frequency withj!/
which the actions actually occur, and the brain ‘grows
to their use. When a resolve or a fine glow of feeling is
allowed to evaporate without bearing practical fruit, it is
worse than a chance lost; it works so as positively to hinder
future resolutions and emotions from taking the normal
path of discharge. There is no more contemptible type of
human character than that of the nerveless sentimentalist
and dreamer, who spends his life in a weltering sea of
sensibility and emotion, but who never does a manly, con-
crete deed. Rousseau, inflaming all the mothers of France
by his eloquence, while he sends his own children to the
foundling hospital, is the classical example of what I mean.
But every one of us in his measure, whenever, after glowing
for an abstractly formulated good, he practically ignores
some actual case, among the squalid ‘other particulars’ of
which that same good lurks disguised, treads straight on
Rousseau’s path. All goods are disguised by the vulgarity
of other concomitants in this work-a-day world; but woe to
him who can recognize them only when he thinks of them in
their pure and abstract form. The habit of excessive novel-
reading and theatre going will produce true monsters in this
line. The weeping of the Russian lady over the fictitious
personages in the play, while her coachman is freezing to
death on his seat outside, is the sort of thing that everywhere
happens on a less glaring scale. Even the habit of excessive
indulgence in music for those who are neither performers
themselves nor musically gifted enough to take it in a
purely intellectual way, has probably a relaxing effect upon
the character. One becomes filled with emotions which
habitually pass without prompting to any deed, and so thes:
inertly sentimental condition is kept up. The remedy
would be never to suffer one’s self to have an emotion
at a concert without expressing it afterward in some active
way.”}

M 1 Jamus’s Text Book of Psychology, p. 148.
cxiv INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

(f) Lesson on English Literature.

SuByecT—Spenser’s Faerie Queen, Canto ix. 21-54.

In previous lessons the story of the preceding Canto
had been given, and stanzas 1-3 of Canto i had been
learnt.

GENERAL TRUTH embodied in method unit :—
“We count them blessed which endure.”

STATEMENT OF THE AIM. We shall see to-day how
the Knight of Holiness fell into the greatest peril.

I. PREPARATION. Conversation in which each
child takes part concerning the past dangers and
difficulties through which the Knight has passed;
how he has slain the monster Error, fought with
Sansfoy and Sansloy, escaped the wiles of Duessa in
the House of Pride, etc., ete, but that his task is not
yet accomplished. Children repeat the stanza :—

“Upon a great adventure he was bond
That greatest Gloriana to him gave
That greatest, glorious Queene of Faerie lond
To winne him worship, and her grace to have
Which of all earthly things he most did crave ;
And ever as he rode his heart did earne
To prove his puissance in battell brave
Upon his foe, and his new force to learne ;
Upon his foe, a dragon horrible and stearne.”

But the Dragon still lives, therefore no time yet
for rest,

II. PRESENTATION. Story (partly told, partly
read impressively), divided into :—
1, CONCENTRATIONS.

(a) Vivid picture of the meeting with the Knight
Sir Trevisan: his white, scared face, bristling hair, the
cord round his neck, the panting horse.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. CXv

(0) Trevisan’s breathless story: how he and Sir
Terwin had been unfortunate in love; their meeting
with “a man of hell that calls himself Despair”; the
suicide of Sir Terwin with the “rusty knife.”

(c) The Red Cross Knight’s brave answer; his deter-
mination to conquer Despair.

REFLECTIONS combine (a), (0), and (c) by means of a
brief summary.

2. CONCENTRATIONS.

(a) THE CAVE OF DESPAIR, its gloom and horror: the
bare trees fit for gallows; the haggard old man, his
hollow eyes and ragged clothes; the sight of the body
of Sir Terwin.

(0) THE CONVERSATION. (1) Despair’s deceptive
words ; the rest and ease of death. (2) The Knight's
answer; the soldier must not leave his post. (3)
Despair’s taunt about the Knight’s past failures, “the
longer life, the greater sin,” therefore “die soon.” (4)
The Knight nearly yields, but is saved by Una’s
reminder of work yet unfinished.

Reflections combine (a) and (0).

III. ASSOCIATION.

(a) Comparison of the Knight’s endurance in this
case with his previous victories over Sansloy, Sansfoy,
Error, ete.

(6) Comparison of the Knight’s endurance with that
of others; children mention cases, eg., St. Paul,
Christian and Faithful in Pulgrim’s Progress, the
Martyrs (especially those who accomplished a definite
life-work), Bishop Hannington, etc.

CoNTRAST with Sir Terwin who had killed himself,
with Pliable in Pilgrim’s Progress, with Elijah who
once prayed that he might die, ete.
Cxvi INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

IV. SYSTEM. Formulation. “Blessed is he that
endureth temptation.”

“The soldier may not move from watchful sted,
Nor leave his stand until his captaine bed.”

“ Be thou faithful unto death.”

V. APPLICATION. Difficulties in our lives ;
grumbling over difficult work; giving a thing up
because it is hard; asking for holidays before term
is over.

“ He that overcometh shall inherit all things.”

Singing of the hymn :—

“¢¢To him that overcometh’ on earthly battle-fields
We crown the noble victor, we scorn the man who yields ;

Loud rings the shout of triumph, fair shines the laurel wreath,
We bring the robe of victory, we lay the sword in sheath.

‘To him that overcometh’ a crown of gold is given,

The glory of God's children, the perfect rest of heaven,

The morning star for jewels, a robe of purest white,

And Christ our Lord will own him His follower in the fight.”

IL, WI. Government and Discipline.

Before passing on to government and discipline, it
will be necessary to consider Herbart’s analysis of the
ordinary phenomena of volition. “I am astonished,”
he writes, “that a parallel has not been more carefully
drawn between the constancy of our conceptions and
the constancy of willing, which goes to make up the
chief basis of the objective part of character.”

Willing, we have seen, develops out of desire when
attainment seems possible. For example, the sight of
a cold and starving boy rouses desire in another child
to mitigate his pain, or at least to give him some
pleasure. This passes into will, as the presentations
arise of the money which can be spent for the sufferer,
and the clothing and the food which can be procured.
The child succeeds in carrying out his purpose. On
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. cxvii

the next day he sees a similar pitiable object.
Instantly the complex mind-picture of yesterday is
recalled, bound up together as it is by the volition,
and with it comes back the sympathetic pleasure
experienced in relieving pain. A second time the
result is unselfish action, and the effect is to intensify
and give greater coherence to the will-picture. The
law of habit rules here as elsewhere. The oftener the
process of willing is repeated the stronger and more
definite becomes the tendency to will in this particular
way, until at last to act with benevolence becomes a
maxim or governing principle of life.

Supposing, however, on the second day, when the
will-picture is reproduced, a strong selfish motive is
also present. Opposing presentations arise of the self-
denial involved in giving away money and toys to the
poor. For a time there is an uneasy consciousness of
struggle between the rival elements, then perhaps
egotism is too strong, and the first will-picture is
driven out of consciousness. A tendency is thus
formed to resist the impulse to benevolence, and that,
too, may become rivetted by the chains of habit.
Everything depends on what Herbart calls memory
of the will, that is, on the movement and energy of
the concepts in which the will originates.

Without agreeing with Herbart’s actual derivation
of will from cognition, we can recognize the truth
of these statements. Memory of the will depends on
firm union and systematic order among the presenta-
tions. If it be strong and vigorous, the new cases
which life offers for our decision will be rapidly sub-
sumed under already established principles, and action
will be unhesitating and effective.

As we read in fomola, it is the inexorable law of
human souls, that we prepare ourselves for sudden
deeds by the reiterated choice of good or evil, and that
gradually determines character.
CXVili INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

A singular statement in the Dhammapada, a work
of the Buddhist Canon, forms a comment on Herbart’s.
views :—

“ All that we are is the result of what we have thought.
It is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our
thoughts. If a man speak with an evil thought, pain
follows him as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that
draws the carriage... .. If a man speak or act with a
pure thought, happiness follows him like a shadow that
never leaves him.”

Thus the sway of the law of habit, even in this
deepest part of our personality, leads us to the fact
that from a purely scientific point of view character
tends to a final permanence.

Slowly, but surely, its chains tighten on us. Up to
twenty, says Professor James, is the important period
for the fixing of personal habits, vocalization, pro-
nunciation, gesture, etc. Hardly ever do we find a
youth brought up in low society able to take a proper
place among his betters.

“Hardly ever, indeed, no matter how much money there
be in his pocket, can he ever learn to dress like a gentleman
born. The merchants offer their wares as eagerly to him as
to the veriest ‘swell,’ but he simply cannot buy the right
things. An invisible law, as strong as gravitation, keeps
him within his orbit, arrayed this year as he was the last ;
and how his better-clad acquaintances contrive to get the
things they wear will be for him a mystery till his dying
day.”

From twenty to thirty is the critical period in the
formation of intellectual and professional habits. By
twenty-five “you may see the professional mannerism
settling down on the young commercial traveller, or
the young doctor, or the young minister, or the young
counsellor-at-law. .... In most of us by the age of
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. exix

thirty the character has set like plaster, and will never
soften again.”

For character, as J. §. Mill says, is “a completely
fashioned will,” and “a will, in the sense in which he
means it, is an aggregate of tendencies to act in a firm
and prompt and definite way upon all the principal
emergencies of life,”

Possibly this is the undercurrent of meaning in the
weird legend Ranke heard in Greenland. They say
there that if a sorcerer makes a stirrup out of a strip
of sealskin and winds it round his limbs, three times
about his heart, thrice about his neck, seven times
about his forehead, and then knots it before his eyes,
that then, when the lamps are put out at night, the
man may rise into space and fly whithersoever his
leading passion dictates.

So must we ever reckon with the subtle but binding
chains of habit on thought, feeling, and will. Who
shall say that when the night comes, and the con-
ventionalities of day are over, and the play of the
“psychical mechanism” is free from present limita-
tions, that then the spirit shall not pass into the
unseen, following still the lead of the dominant
passion ?

The last two “means of education” which we must
now consider are government (regierwng) and discipline
(zucht), or, as some prefer to translate it, training.
Both differ from instruction in that the pupil himself
is now “immediately in the teacher’s mind as the being
upon whom he has to work,” whereas in instruction
the material of necessity absorbs some attention.
“The worth of a man,” says Herbart, “consists not
in what he knows, but in how he wills. It is the
purpose, then, of education so to form the circle of
thought that right volition may be the result.

Instruction should supply a knowledge, which, since
it is coloured with interest, will lead to volition. “If
Cxx INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

this volition,” says Ufer, “is controlled by the ethical
ideas, the work of Instruction is done.” But the task
of education is something more. The latter demands
moral strength of character, the steady efficiency of a
will at the service of the esthetic judgments. The
first means to be considered as a help to this end is

Government. “A spirit of order” is a necessity
before instruction is even possible. Childish im-
petuosity and restlessness, which do not necessarily
proceed from an evil will, must yet be kept in check,
lest they lead to bad habits and anti-social tendencies.
Herbart suggests four means of child government:
(a) occupation, which forms a healthy outlet for
natural activities; (5) supervision, which is neces-
sary in the earliest years, but is attended by certain
serious dangers, such as the loss of originality and
self-knowledge; (c) and (d), threatening and punish-
ments of a special kind. The latter only take cog-
nizance of wrong action without regard to the desire
to do evil.

“ All punishments, as measures of government, must be
inflicted without directing the attention to the fact that the
naughtiness committed was bad, and therefore reprehensible ;
they must be carried out without exciting the childish
mind; they must appear to the child as a natural conse-
quence necessarily following upon the act committed.”

In a word, the aim of government is simply to guard
against mischief, and to accustom the child to habits
of order, punctuality, neatness, industry, etc. The
obedience it exacts is prompt and unquestioning. Its
importance is seen in the serious evils which it pre-
vents. Yet, above all things, it must not be continued
too long, for the growth of ethical insight demands
a different method, and that is discipline.

Discipline “must see to it that the volition of the
pupil receives its tendency from the ethical ideas,”
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. cxxi

that his actions in the larger life beyond the school-
room may be steadily moulded in accordance with
the xsthetic judgments. It should be specially con-
trasted with government.

First, as regards the obedience required under govern-
ment, the child submits because he must; under disci-
pline, because he consciously wills to bow to a higher
law. The measures of government are short and
decisive in tone; those of discipline represent rather
a continuous moulding power, an atmosphere which
surrounds the child and appears to him illimitable.
The very thought of escape from it should not occur
to him. Common experience confirms this. Wherever
any real intercourse takes place, the mental atmos-
phere is determined by the strongest personalities
present. We know the strange lowering of tone in
a class or a school caused by one unprincipled
character. We know, too, how the very presence of
one lofty spirit has a hallowing influence amid the
worst surroundings. So we catch a glimpse of
Herbart’s ideal teacher, one whose life is such
that the discipline he maintains is simply the out-
come of personality, for “a kind of omni-presence
of moral criticism is the necessary condition of moral
truth”; one like him of whom Tennyson wrote :—

“J had such reverence for his blame.”

To such an one the child must consciously submit
his own will, for the highest moral ideal could not
be that which was controlled by any outside force.
Government may last till reason awakes, but we have
achieved nothing if then there is no inner response;
that is, if the will is not given freely to the service
of the moral ideas. And this fact is suggestive of that
deeper law which governs all psychical development.

We are but children of a larger growth, and life, the
great teacher, tests men and women in the same way.
CGxxll INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

Like children, we set our hearts on passing trifles, and
if we would but listen, the discipline of life points out
gently the folly of our choice. If we are wise, we bow
to a higher will, and acquiesce to a wisdom which
is perfect love; if we are not, we grasp at the object
of our desire like a child. And then comes govern-
ment—short, sharp, decisive—sent to save us from
ourselves, and the thing is taken from us. The loss
is a double one, for the child might have risen to
a higher class, and the pupil might have learnt to
know his teacher’s further plans; this could not be,
because he chose government. For the great point
which Herbart emphasizes above all is this: the battle
of life is not with outside things. It centres within,
and it ¢s in the will. Character is the embodiment of
will, and we may now add the corollary to this state-
ment, that character tends to a final permanence in its
innermost preferences. All depends on that which
Herbart calls taste, that of which Ruskin once said,
“Taste is not only a part and an index of morality,
it is the only morality. The first and last and closest
trial question to any living creature is, ‘What do you
like?’ Tell me what you like, and I will tell you what
you are.”? Circumstances may for a time thwart the
outer life, the stern hand of government may be too
strong for us; but at last comes a time when we must
choose, and we choose what we have long desired.

There was a ferryman in Pilgrim’s Progress whose
face was set towards the celestial city, but he was
rowing in the opposite direction. The case is no
uncommon one, and we are sometimes not quite
conscious ourselves of these inner and powerful
springs of action. What will a man choose when
the restraints are gone ?

The ethical collapse of Balaam seems a case in
point. Here we see apparent obedience ending in

1 Quoted in FeLK1n’s Science of Education, p. 86.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. cxxiii

moral downfall. The explanation is that the “taste”
was evil; the set of the personality was in the wrong
direction. He knew from the first night that to curse
Israel was sin. The esthetic judgment had given the
verdict; after that there was only one safe course,
instant voluntary submission. This might not have
involved precipitate action, but simply readiness to
comply with the subjective will in harmony with
moral insight. But the dominant inclination in the
objective will was an unchecked love of gain; and this
really conquered, though for a time it was restrained
by fear of the consequences; he wished to have as
much of Balak’s treasure as could be gained safely.
There was no yielding of the lower to the higher will,
no consent to discipline, only a lurking fear of govern-
ment. But we saw that government is for the child
who does not know any better. This man knew well,
so it had to be discipline or ruin. One last sharp
warning he seems to have had. Whether that vision
was subjective or objective matters little. To an
Eastern mind, used to symbolism, nothing could be
plainer. He found himself in a narrow path of the
vineyards hedged in on either side; two courses alone
were possible, forward to Balak, back to Pethor, and
in front was a drawn sword. A voice sounded in his
ears; not, “Thy way is perverse” (the Hebrew is much
more forcible than this), but, “Thy way is headlong
before me,” that is, it is nothing short of moral suicide.
The end is tragic enough. At last the restraints were
removed. In the end he managed to win Balak’s
friendship, he brought the deadliest curse on Israel, he
attained that which his taste approved—the gold.

Respite after that was unavailing; the visionary
sword in a few months became reality. So in ethics
there inevitably comes a point where arrested develop-
ment involves degeneration.

1 Num. xxxi, 8.
cxxiv INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF HERBART.

But the converse is also true, and has been recognized
by many writers. In Marcella one of the finest scenes
is the death of Hallin. He had just been told the
secret which could give supreme happiness to the two
he loved best, and his friend stood by his side. At
that moment speech began to fail; he was dying, and
he knew it. There was one fierce conflict, a passionate
desire for at least a moment of time, and then Hallin
sank back silent but content. It was the last grand
victory of a surrendered will, a realized inner freedom,
and therefore peace. For they are not free who “do as
they like.” Nor are they free whom thousands obey.
He alone is free who has conquered self.

Dante also saw this. The man whose life had been
spent amid the restless political tumult of Florence
could picture the torture of the inferno and the cease-
less struggle of the purgatorio, but how was he to paint
a realm of eternal rest? He gives us the answer from
the lips of that same Piccarda Donati, whom he found
in the lower heaven of the moon. He questions her,
does she never long for a higher sphere ?

“She with those other spirits gently smiled ;
Then answered with such gladness that she seem’d
With love’s first flame to glow: ‘ Brother, our will
Is in composure, settled by the power
Of charity who makes us will alone
What we possess, and nought beyond desire :
If we should wish to be exalted more,
Then must our wishes jar with the high will
Of Him who sets us here: ...
Rather it is inherent in this state
Of blessedness to keep ourselves within
The divine will by which our wills with His
Areone...
And in His will is our tranquillity.” 1

There is one other passage. Dante is ascending
the steep path of purgatory. The flush of dawn has

1 Paradiso, iti. 50-89.
THE HERBARTIAN THEORY OF EDUCATION. CXXV

faded into common day. It is all effort—interminable,
monotonous ascent. He pleads with Virgil—

“T fain would learn
How far we have to go; for the hill rises
Higher than eyes of mine have power to rise.”

It is the old question :—

“Does the road wind uphill all the way ?
Yes, to the very end.”

And Virgil answers :—

“This mount is such that ever
At the beginning down below ’tis tiresome,
And a: oe more one climbs the less it hurts ;
Therefore when it shall seem so pleasant to thee
That going up shall be to thee as easy
As going down the current in a boat,
Then, at this pathway’s ending thou wilt be.”

Herbart speaks, too, of a time when at last the soul
may possess a symmetrical passion for good. The task
of discipline shall then be over, for will shall cease to
work along the lines of greatest resistance, and shall
attain

“The ultimate angels’ law
There, where law, life, love, impulse are one thing.”
THE
APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY
TO EDUCATION

Letrrer I.

1, The occasion of the Letters—Ethics furnishes Education with its
aim—Psychology, with guidance as to helps and hindrances—
The present work is written to supply the psychological deficiencies
of an earlier treatise ; e.g., the Science of Education.

2. The Function of a Psychological Science of Education—It
should be: (a) a revelation of the possibilities of development in
a human being ; (6) a mirror to show the bad teacher what he is
doing ; (c) a guide and counsellor in noble aims—Its threefold
task is to consider (a) the pupil’s manifold capacity for cultivation ;
(2) the means at our disposal, such as books, apparatus, coercive
measures, &c.; (c) the different kinds of schools,

FTER so many years’ experience, my dear friend, you
have too long put off collecting and publishing the
results of your educational thought and observation.
Do you fear forsooth that you will find no audience ?
Forget this danger, common almost to all, and think
only of the age, which is so little conscious of its
needs. Surely your quiet, measured tones are well
adapted to cause reflection, at least in some, in spite of
contending prejudices. And since we agree as to
principles, permit me to hope that your experience
also may not be opposed to mine. Perhaps it is in
your power to procure for me valuable proofs and
A
2 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

a

illustrations of those things which I, as usual, shall
state in the form of general ideas.

But I do not write this letter merely by way of
exhortation to you. There is that also in my mind
which I might have called an old obligation, or at least
a promise, which I made to myself many years ago.
You know my General Principles of the Science of
Education. You know the book is incomplete, because
although, (as the title shows), it is a deduction from the
aim of Education, it is deficient in Psychology, which I
was then studying for the first time. Since then we
have read so many different things about, and in
opposition to my Psychology, that if it has not yet
expired under the treatment, it ought surely to furnish
some proof of its vitality, were it only to prevent
much younger people taking us antiquated practical
Pedagogues into the schools of their empirical
Psychology.1 But at my age one loves ease. Now you
can guess the rest quite well. To write letters to
you is very easy for me; it may also be an adequate
means, not only of furnishing certain additions to
Psychology, but also of discharging this indirect educa-
tional debt, to which I have alluded.

A system described in letters would be almost
as ridiculous as a system in verse. But you would
hardly welcome me if I offered you anything quite
unsystematic, for to chatter in a desultory fashion
about Education is, or at least seems, only too easy, and

2 Willmann thinks that this is an allusion to Beneke, who seems
to have much resented the views expressed in Herbart’s works on
Psychology.
LETTER I. 3

I dare not offer anything of the sort to you. The more
education appears in the circle of daily experience
as something commonplace, the more necessary it is
to bring into definite order our thoughts on the subject,
and so to fix them that they may not be lost in the
stream of mere opinion. To be sure the case would be
quite different if my mind were set on any so-called
methods and their recommendation to the Public. But
in that case I should not write letters to you.

Let us begin at once with an abstraction, the only
value of which is to explain a concept, and to sketch
out a line of investigation.

Education is related to Ethics by the conception ofj
the aims which the Educator has in view. By the con-
sideration of means and hindrances it is driven back |
to Psychology. That first relation you are no longer |
seeking to investigate; any alterations touching it,
perhaps as regards wording, which my earlier writings
require, you will discern naturally with the slightest
attention. But the Psychology of Education is so diffi-
cult and so many-sided, that we shall do well to occupy
ourselves first merely with its general conceptions, and
to sketch it out in bare outline, unconcerned even at
the misshapen forms which may appear before our eyes.

Picture to yourself a hoary diplomatist, whose stony
countenance betrays no trace of sympathy for the
weal or woe concerning which he, as a soothsayer,
is consulted. He notices which way the wind blows
and adjusts his flag accordingly. Here I see an
illustration of purely psychological Pedagogy. It gives
the power of insight by which we recognize the
4 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

possibility of a human being, under certain circum-
stances, developing on such and such lines. It can
reveal to the bad as well as to the good teacher what
he is doing; to all it is useful for every sort of object;
by its guidance the one may cause improvement, the
other ruin.

Does there then exist such a pure psychological
Science of Education? Is it desirable if it should
exist? Perhaps; that is to say, it might serve as
a mirror for bad teachers. And if we did possess
such a thing, what would hinder our appealing to it
for counsel in the attainment of noble aims? I
confess we do not at present possess such a psychology
in its completeness, neither do we possess such a
philosophy of history, as perhaps the new Spinoza
schools would like, who believe themselves able to
reckon up the necessary metamorphoses of the world-
spirit, and trace them in events. We will, however,
just consider, in case such a science should be vouch-
safed to us as a connected whole, what form might
naturally be expected of it.

Whenever we perceive that which is active set
over against what is passive, there appears to us a
twofold and varied possibility, first, of that into which
the passive may develop, and, second, of the effects
which the active can produce; and the difficulty will
be greater or less, according to the relative conditions
of the active and the passive Certain modifications

1 That is, the greater or less difficulty depends first on the active
being a suitable means to work upon the passive; second, on the
passive being a suitable subject to be thus acted upon.
LETTER J. 5

follow if a third forms a link between the two, and thus
from the two possibilities brings before us one actual
event. You already guess that I am thinking of the
pupil’s capacity for cultivation, next of the means
which we are accustomed to use, and, thirdly, of the
arrangements for public and private education, where-
by the methods of Culture come into operation.

It is manifest that a psychological Science of Educa-
tion would consider first the pupil’s manifold capacity
for cultivation, both the natural gifts and the attained
ability which comes into operation at each stage of
the onward progress; that we should then have to
speak of books and apparatus, encouragements and
coercive measures, so as to place before us, in connec-
tion with these, certain ideal pupils, and how they are
to be developed, if out of every educational means
its own peculiar form of activity is to go forth in
full strength; and, lastly, the discussion must turn on
schools, seminaries, and the like.

But you, my friend, are perhaps already smiling
at the system in letters, which is coming up like
a grey rain cloud? Do not seize an umbrella too
hastily. I have laid before you a classification, but
I have not promised a treatise. You will soon see
how selfishly I have kept my own ease in view in
choosing the free and easy form of a letter.
Lerrer II.

Concerning Public Instruction, past and present—(a) Recent im-
provements: (i.) Modifications of superficial Philological Culture ;
(ii.) Increased attention given to Mathematics; (iii.) Increased
efficiency of the Gymnasiums ; (iv.) Steady improvement generally
in the Science of Education since the time of Locke.

(b) Consequences of these changes—(i.) The Gymnasiums at
first over-rated, partly on account of their improved results,
partly through the felt need of increased public spirit against the
despotism of Napoleon; (ii.) Future development of a juster
estimate, resulting in less pressure on pupils, and more care in
the selection of candidates for the harder examinations.

F we look back at that time when we first thought
out together the science of Education,—before you
went to Switzerland —we shall find less alteration,
comparing it with the present, than one could expect
after the lapse of a quarter of a century. Niemeyer’s?
principles of Education were already then in force;
they were universally known and were more carefully
followed than they are now, since Germany has been
roused up and renovated in so many ways. Schwarz?

1 A. H. Niemeyer, an influential writer on Education. In 1836
he published Grundsétze der Erziehung und des Unterrichts. He was
also one of the first to insist on the importance of making use of all
the facts that have been handed down to us; and with this in view,
he published an Ueberblick der allgemeinen Geschichte der Erziehung.

2 F. H. Ch. Schwarz, the author of one of the first noteworthy
histories of Education. It was published in 1813, and was entitled
a Geschichte der Erziehung.

6
LETTER IT. 7

was beginning to exercise an influence. Jean Paul?
soon followed. I believe I was the first to speak of
“Tnstruction which should be educational.” You will
remember that we laid the greatest stress on the fact
that Instruction was then looked upon too much as a
secondary matter in education, whereas it is that,
nevertheless, which generally has the most lasting
effect, because acquired knowledge remains while
habits and customs vary.

The expression “Educational Instruction” has since
been taken out of my mouth and used very much in
opposition to my views.2 However, the expression

1 Johann Paul Friedrich Richter (1763-1825), (usually called Jean
Paul,) the greatest German humorist, was the son of a schoolmaster
and organist at Wunsiedel. He attended the University of Leipsic,
and from 1787 to 1789 was engaged as a tutor in several families
at Schwarzenbach. After years of struggle with extreme poverty,
his literary work began to attract attention, and win for him a wide
circle of admirers. In 1807 he brought out a work on Education,
entitled Levana, oder Erziechungslehre. The book is actually a peda-
gogical romance, in which it is sought to answer the question how
a boy “‘by means of his native ability would probably develop, who,
removed from the harmful influences of the world, was brought up
in an underground chamber. Graphically as Jean Paul pictures the
moment when the boy for the first time emerges upon the upper
world in all its beauty, he has nevertheless forgotten that a boy who
has not had the privilege of collecting a large store of concrete sense
experiences is not in the least educable, but is utterly incapable of
interpreting the external world.” From Urer’s Introduction to
Herbart.

2 An allusion to a work by Von NrerHammeEr, called Der Streit
des Philanthropinismus und Humanismus, ete. (Jena, 1808), which
aroused considerable interest at the time, but which called forth the
severest condemnation from Herbart. In one of his letters he speaks
of it again as a book full of empty fancies and actual ingratitude to a
succession of educational forerunners,
8 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

matters little provided the meaning is realized. “Does
the Instruction of the present day deserve throughout
the name of “Educational Instruction”? It has at
least gained some completeness. That superficial side
of philological culture, which neglected Greek for the
sake of Latin, has indeed not yet disappeared, but is
much modified. Mathematics has obtained far more
attention, and that would scarcely happen to-day
which once occurred to me as I was going through
the class-rooms of a celebrated Gymnasium. On the
blackboard had been written an exceedingly simple
equation of the first degree, and when I said “That
is of course for the Third Form?” the answer was,
“No, that is for the First.” The efficiency of the
Gymnasiums generally has been increased; aristo-
cratic families have resigned themselves to the fact
that their sons must exert themselves if they are to
be ready for the University.

Of the Pestalozzian enterprises on which in our
younger days all eyes were turned, you know more
than I do. You can judge whether the thing was as
worthless as people have since represented it ; at least,
I am not yet ashamed of my object lessons, the idea of
which I obtained from Pestalozzi; on the contrary, I
am still going on with them. To be sure everything
which is heralded and carried on with exaggeration and
enthusiasm necessarily declines; it has done its work,
when it has changed into energy and attention the inert-
ness and indolence which it first encounters. Would
that we could speak with as much praise of the philo-

1 For the relation of Herbart to Pestalozzi, see Introduction, p. xxii.
LETTER II. 9

sophical schools of that time. Would that we did not
see here indolence as the consequence of exaggeration,
and to some extent a feverish heat, which only leads to
disintegration.

In my opinion we are justified in holding the favour-
able opinion, that since Locke the Science of Education
has made steady progress, even if not always in a
straight line. Certainly much remains to be desired;
much indeed must change with time and circumstances.
If Niemeyer were to write now he would derive his
illustrations from quite a different circle of experiences
from that which forms the basis of his celebrated work.
Nevertheless the fundamental ideas would be the
same, though they would be practically applied in
different ways. Pedagogy changes slowly; it follows
neither speculation! nor experience alone, but shows
traces of the effects of both, which modify and correct
each other.

Are you shaking your head, my dear friend, as you
read what I have just written? I should indeed like
to know; but I am not sure about it. Opinions are

1 Spekulation; this word is throughout used by Herbart to
signify reflection concerning causal connections. In enumerating the
different kinds of interest, Ufer distinguishes experience and specu-
lation thus :—

‘*Knowledge derived from the sphere of experience may direct
itself towards the much, the many-coloured, and the manifold, and
the mind may take pleasure in the variety and novelty of impressions.
The excitation and eager continuance of endeavour in this direction
is called empirical interest.

‘‘The element of the obscure and enigmatical, as it is met in the
facts of history, urges, from a mere observing, as it predominates in

the empirical interest, to reflection concerning causal connection ;
in order to understand facts and events, one seeks to become clear
10 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

always wont to differ about a thing which has changed
with time. So much, I think, you will concede to
me, that the instruction of to-day, especially in the
Gymnasiums, has a completeness and a brilliance which
was not known in our youth; and the desire might
easily seize us to be young again, that we might make
the Gymnasiums of that day furnish as complete a
course of study as is now provided for receptive minds.
Doubtless also the present teachers feel how much they
are valued, and so, pleasure in, and love for the work
last much longer than formerly. Teachers remain
longer useful, and ripeness of age, of experience, and
of judgment, is combined with power that is better
economized for practical use; certainly a great advan-
tage over a former age, which naturally wore out more
quickly the worse paid and much less respected
teacher, while it would go on employing him even
when he was useless for anything else.

If the dream of our youth should return once more,
of wishing to achieve something great by the improve-
ment of Instruction, should we also lay as much
concerning their causes and conditions. An effort of this kind pre-
supposes a mental activity, to which Herbart gave the distinguishing
name of speculative interest.” —Introduction to Herbart, p. 61.

The man who observes the wonderful phenomena of mind, and
admires its strange complexity, may be filled with empirical interest.
Yet this is scarcely possible without questions arising as to the why
and the wherefore of these mysteriously rapid changes. What is the
cause of it all? Is it my fear which is producing faintness? or is it
the disturbed action of the heart which is causing fear? Such
subjects are full of speculative interest, and the psychologist must
needs become a metaphysician. As Charles Kingsley graphically

shows us in his wonderful fairy tale, ‘‘Madam How” is beautiful,
but men ever long for the rarer glimpses of ‘‘ Lady Why.”
LETTER II, 11

stress as formerly on giving a larger place to Greek,
as compared with Latin—Mathematics as compared
with Languages? I almost believe the ruling bent of
our educational wishes would now be a different one,
because a great part of that which we once wished has
been fulfilled, though in many respects certainly
in quite a different way from that in which we, with
our views, might have arranged it.

But a truce to wishes, at least for the present. We
are more anxious to consider what probable con-
sequences are to be expected. When the modern
developments of Instruction were set on foot twenty
years ago, many of the public expressed their discon-
tent at the burden which was placed on youth, and at
the severe conditions which were then imposed on
candidates for the Civil Service. A little later it was
seen that the burden was still bearable, whereas the ad-
vantage to able minds was no small matter. Courage
then rose; the parents attached more and more
value to the Instruction in the Gymnasiums. They
knew that they themselves had been far less perfectly
instructed; so much the more did they value the gift
offered to their children. But it is not difficult to
foresee that this must necessarily somewhat alter
the relation of the schools to the public. The time
will soon come when the pupils, whom the schools
have efficiently provided with learning, will be adults.
Then the parents will have to be content, if the
children learn as much as they themselves have
learnt, for the amount of Instruction cannot increase
any more. The emotion which a father now often
12 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

feels when he sees how much more his son has
attained than himself, will then be fairly a thing of
the past. On the contrary, words will then be oftener
repeated, which are not unknown even now,—words of
encouragement from experienced fathers, who promise
their sons, that the youthful pleasures of the next
generation shall not be so severely curtailed by the use-
less cramming which they personally had to undergo,
though they were never able in later life to give a
satisfactory answer to the question Cui bono. So also
will those speak to whom the present scholarly
Gymnasium instruction has been offered, when their
natural capabilities were not able to advance in pro-
portion; for whom, on account of clever rivals and
the present strong competition, the road to civil office,
if not quite closed, was opened too late, and who have
then afterwards devoted themselves to country life,
the army, and industrial pursuits of a higher or lower
kind, Am I making a mistake about this? Do not
the majority of the final school examinations, along
with much that is encouraging, also furnish us with
sad evidence of how difficult it becomes to the
Gymnasiums to get rid of these pupils, whom it would
have been better never to receive than to be thus
troubled with them? If such people have a little
common sense they will take care not to expose their
children to the danger to which they themselves fell a
victim, without proper examination into that which
nature demands or refuses. The Gymnasiums will
keep their admirers, but only those to whom they have
been useful, and the admiration will slightly decrease,
LETTER II. 13

for performances which now evoke astonishment will
come more and more into the sphere of the ordinary.

You, my friend, were close to the whirling current
of Pestalozzian thought at the time when the present
Gymnasium system was in preparation, but you need
only glance at Fichte’s Address to the German
Nation: to form an idea of that which perhaps
you could not observe for yourself with sufficient
clearness. There was a time when the adult race
almost despaired of itself. Hope centred on youth,
but on a national youth not yet existing in Germany.
It was evident that private teachers were not capable
of developing it. Besides, even if much more efficient
than they are generally, in the most favourable
cases they only help the family spirit, and instead
of a separation into homes and families, a general
rising was wanted against the despotism of Napoleon.
That is why the incompetence of private teachers was
attacked so severely, whereas the public schools, on
the other hand, were praised and recommended.

1 See note on p. 21,
Lerrer III.

State Education—Confusion in men’s minds of the true proposition,
“True education brings advantage to the State,” with the false
one, ‘‘ Education is the more true the more advantage it brings
to the State”—Relation between the State, the Family, and the
School—The State is the Confederation of all Families, only
in so far as families fall into a State classification according to
professions, means, claims, etc.—Thus the State founds schools
to educate soldiers, civil officers, scientists, etc.—Main objections
to State Education: (i.) The State thus educates on the principle
of utility to itself alone,—if the individual development is at
all taken into consideration, it still remains with the family to
see that the help is applied to the right cases; (ii) School
discipline is generally good for strong, but not for weak,
characters; (iii.) The instruction may be too rapid for the
indolent pupil; (iv.) Onesidedness is apt to appear (a) in the
instruction, with a view to gain some special end; (5) in the
teacher’s observation of the children, which is confined to such
characteristics as appear in school life; (v.) Difficulty of ensuring
a high moral standard in a boyish community—The danger of
Fichte’s proposal for societies of boys, separate from, and in-
dependent of, adults; difficulty of subduing incipient barbaric
tendencies without the gentle influence of the family.

Conclusion.—Not that private teachers should be exalted at
the cost of the schools, but that no improvements in school-
masters or curriculum will make up for the loss of the family
spirit as the basis of Education.

OT you, indeed, but many others have hinted
or said plainly to me, that I trouble myself
too little about my opponents. Perhaps, for once,
I will stoop to do penance for this offence. There-

fore, in order to avail myself of the opportunity I
14
LETTER II. 15

will, in thought, add a Momus to my former letter,
who scoffs at my utter folly.1 For nothing more
foolish could be thought of than to proclaim a Science
of Education thus: It is not to be a Science of State
Education. In our times, when the minds of all men
are full of politics, it is a matter of course that no
one educates or demands education except just for the
sake of the State, or, at least, to serve some party
in it. Momus will also easily call up against me a
Thrasymachus, who opposes me, perhaps, with the
following dialectic :

The Right is the advantage of the stronger.?

But the State is far stronger than the family.

Consequently the Right is rather the advantage of
the State than that of the family.

We need only include right education under the
concept of that which is right, and the conclusion
is complete.

1 Momus was the god of mockery and censure.

2 The reference is to a passage in PiarTo’s Republic, book i.
Socrates and Polemarchus are discussing the nature of Justice, when
Thrasymachus, the well-known sophist from Chalcedon, having
listened for some time, can no longer hold his peace. ‘‘ Gathering
himself up, he came at us like » wild beast, seeking to devour us.
We were quite panic-stricken at the sight of him. He roared out
to the whole company, ‘ What folly, Socrates, has takea possession
of you all? And why, sillybillies, do you knock under to one
another? I say that, if you want really to know what Justice is,
you should not only ask but answer. .. . And now I will not have
you say that Justice is duty, or advantage, or profit, or gain, or
interest, for this sort of nonsense will not do for me. I must have
clearness and accuracy.’” He was at once ironically pressed by
Socrates and the company to give his own definition, and at last
proclaimed, ‘‘Justice is nothing else than the interest of the
stronger.”
16 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

Right education is far more the advantage of the
State than of the family. Consequently it must
keep this in view, otherwise it is not the right
kind.

Yet such crazy logic is not too bad for the great
mass of those who admire, love, honour, and praise
only that which is strong, and who, when their dis-
cernment has been spoiled, cleverly attach themselves
to him who is strong, and are thus just as difficult
to put to shame as that platonic Thrasymachus,—a
figure that we shall see unveiled often enough in
Germany if the fatal scheme to provoke political
passion succeeds. Is it a great step, if we pass
from admiring Napoleon, to accepting the state-
ment, “The Right is the advantage of the stronger” ?
The glitter of power, the pomp of victory, contrasted
with the misery of the conquered,—this spectacle
turns men’s heads till they reach the shameless
assertion of unjust nonsense.

But matters need not go nearly as far as this to
win assent to the ambiguous proposition—right educa-
tion is the advantage of the State. For, in the first
place, no one doubts that the presence of well-
educated citizens would be more advantageous to the
State than that of the badly educated. But in our
age of mistakes and paralogisms,’ the two proposi-
tions—

“True education brings advantage to the State,”
and: “Education is the more true the more advantage

1 Paralogism—a rarely-used word, meaning an illogical statement,
something contrary to reason, error,
LETTER IIL 17

it brings to the State,’—stand much too near each
other in men’s minds as they are, for the true not to
get often confused with the false. For who has
organized the schools? The State. For whom has it
organized them? For itself. But who profits by the
schools? The family. Thus here the advantage of
the family falls in with the aim of the State, as,
indeed, in the postal system. For the post office is,
first, to serve the authorities; but then the public is
asked to share the convenience as well as the cost of
it, as an institution.

What is, then, the State? Between the famous
answer, “1’Etat c’est moi,” and the other extreme, “the
State is a union of all families,” there are various
opinions. But daily experience proves clearly that
State and family welfare, State and family affairs,
enthusiasm for the State, and care for the family,
are quite different things. In the advantages of the

1 The well-known words “l’Etat c’est moi” have been ascribed
to Lewis XIV., who, at any rate, governed in accordance with this
principle. It is said that on April 13th, 1655, he appeared in
hunting-dress and riding whip before an intractable Parliament, and
with these words answered the first President, who set the interests
of the State on a par with the royal commands, According to
another version, it is said that he thus interrupted a judge, who
spoke of king and State in the same breath.

The reason why Herbart lays such stress on a home education,
as opposed to that of a public school, is principally to be found
in the fact that the moral ideas appear more prominently in family
life than in that of any other community.

We may compare with this some passages from his JMoral
Philosophy.

“The rule of Love is to be found under many forms in family
relationships. . . . He who belongs to a family finds himself reflected

B
w

18 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

State some have a greater, some a smaller interest,
and there is a constant fluctuation about these
interests which no Statecraft, even if it wished, can
equalize.

Undoubtedly the State is the confederation of all
families—not directly, however, but only in so far
as families fall into different classes, according to
position, profession, means, claims, and needs, and
thus, as such, belong to the State. Thus the State
intends that one class shall be educated with a view
to trade, another with a view to the defence of the
country, a third for the civil office, a fourth for the
culture of arts and sciences. According to such
standpoints different schools are founded. But indi-
vidual differences lie too deep to be rightly construed
according to considerations of mere utility, and if
fathers allow themselves to be misled by anxiety
for their sons’ advancement into judging of their
in the other members ; he reckons them as his own ; in them he feels
honoured or shamed ; he feels himself neglected, if he suffers them
to fall, or gives them up to fate and malicious tongues.”

Herbart proceeds to point out that the members of a family lean
on each other, especially if no estrangement has ever separated
them, and the image of family likeness has never been defaced.
For it is the anxiety lest we should appear in a misshapen form to
our own relatives, which is the basis of those family duties, which
themselves spring from the idea of Right. . . . Through all family
relationship, therefore, runs the claim that we should not set up
an example which ought not to be followed. This is the sphere of
moral considerations with which the idea of Equity is generally
connected ; but Benevolence and Perfection come in also, if we take
into consideration the different members, or regard the personality
of the whole as one. For this reason we may even add inner

Freedom ; and, in short, anything which has to do with refined social
life. (See also Introduction, pp. xxxix.—xlii.)
LETTER III. 19

abilities according to this standard, the Science of
Education should enlighten them. It can remind
them, first, that the less useful an individual is, the
less the State will trouble itself about him. Its
schools are to provide it with those whom it requires.
It chooses the most useful; the rest may look after
themselves.

However, if it be assumed that the State should be
so magnanimous as to make itself of service in the
culture of individuals, even to the setting aside of its
own needs, so that each one may attain as much as he
is able,—still, even in that case, the same thing happens
as in charity clubs. We apply the help where it is
most efficacious. We wish each one to help himself
as far as he can.

If schools are to meet the requirements of families,
the latter must look to it that the proffered help is
applied in the right direction. The severity of school
discipline helps the very busy or too indulgent father
in the case of strong characters, but not with those
which are weak and gentle; it is of use if supervision
in leisure hours and holidays is not lacking ; its effects
are reversed if a young man finds means of escaping
from the punishment and discipline to which he has
had to submit. The indolent pupil gains in brightness,
industry, and order, through the example of fellow-
students, if he is able and willing to do the work set;
but not if the instruction is too rapid or too varied
for him, nor if taste and talent impel him in other
directions. The evils of onesidedness are brought under
notice in public instruction, but not always remedied ;
20 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

it is often impossible to avoid yielding to it in order
to gain any result at all, and then special lessons are
required. Children of mediocre brains go on for a
long time mechanically with what is required of them;
they are praised, and they are contented with their
good reports; but they do not know how to use the
knowledge they have gained, and they lose it as soon as
possible. There is no small delusion as to the amount of
knowledge which goes forth yearly from the schools:
not a little of it is lost in university life as useless
material. The teachers in public institutions make
many observations of various pupils; but the cases are
rare when children willingly reveal their inmost souls,
and so these observations refer only to that which
appears on the surface, touching the discipline and
study of school life. Soa historian sees human beings
in relation to events, he sees masses of men and their
movements, he does not see nor can he pay any atten-
tion to that which has no historical consequences.
The pupils also who know each other acquire an

1 This fact is one of the many explained by the Herbartian
doctrine of apperception. The historian has spent his life in
collecting and arranging historical presentations. In them his
mental wealth consists: they constitute his apperceiving factor. A
new presentation is seized upon and fitted into these ready-made
groups, and others which present nothing similar are passed over.
(See Introduction, pp. lxviii., Ixx.) The teacher in the public school is
in danger of a like onesided view of his pupils, if he forgets that the
actual school course is but a small part of their lives. If his apper-
ceiving factor consists merely of the subjects of a school curriculum,
his observations of complex humanity will be superficial. The Malay
is right, when he says of the moaning of the wind through the bamboo

trees, “The forest organ plays for each his favourite tune.” We
apperceive only that for which our past has prepared us,
LETTER III. 21

insight into character; it were better for many if they
could remain ignorant longer in this matter. A
social spirit arises among them; some learn to obey
those whom they ought not, others to rule when it is
not fit for them. One attains power by his strength,
another by his self-confident bearing; the cunning boy
knows how to push forward others that they may carry
out his plans, and all unite in maintaining a code of
honour, secrecy, and mutual help in times of difficulty.
The larger such a boyish community is, the more it
should be controlled and watched with suspicion; but
increased appearance of despotic rules will be accom-
panied by an increase in the secret resentment they
arouse, and in the tendency of the pupils to hope that
some day they, too, will be despots. Does anyone think
it easy to prevent or remedy such evils if the influence
of the family spirit be despised ?

You, my friend, will certainly not think that, for
you have educational experience. But that which
Fichte propounded in the year 1808,' when he dreamt
of his new education “in which pupils, severed from
adult social life, should yet live together as in a
society, and so should form for themselves a separate

1 Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1762-1814) combines ‘‘the penetration
of a philosopher with the fire of a prophet and the thunder of an
orator.” Over his whole life lies the beauty of stainless purity. The
victories of Napoleon at Auerstadt and Jena drew from him the
famous Reden aw die Deutschen, These addresses were delivered
in the winter of 1807-8, while a French Marshal was governor of
Berlin, and the lecturer’s voice was often drowned by the tumult
of the enemy in the streets. In them he lamented that age had

denied him the privilege accorded to Aeschylus and Cervantes of
making good his words by manly deeds,
22 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

and independent commonwealth,”—such a view, I say,
deserves to-day even a severer criticism than it seems
to have found at the time when it was uttered. All
honour to the man, who, in the moment of danger, had
the courage to give loud and emphatic utterance to
any proposal for the salvation of the nation. But
a proposal which, at a most critical state of affairs,
appealed to the heart of a whole nation with all the
dignity of intense earnestness ought not to have lacked
thoughtful attention. Now in this case the mischief
was by no means taken into consideration, which is
caused by the rough psychical mechanism in that great
crowd of boys and men, who, without the gentle
influence of the family spirit, measure their strength
one against the other, till some are subdued, others take
the lead, and the greater number adapt themselves
to their surroundings. Such a struggle does not carry
with it the slightest security that the best will conquer.
Amongst lively boys, crowded together and shut off
from other people, all evil and- barbaric tendencies
must always arise; and even after the application
of the greatest severities on the part of adults, the
tendencies would be only concealed without being
remedied. Armed bands for mountainous warfare,
qualified to fight in ravines and forests, might grow
up in this way,—dangerous first to the enemy, then
to their own land. The nation required very different
deliverers, and it has found them. But a predilection
for schools has remained; as if the friction amongst
many pupils brought not danger, but safety; as if the
sharpening of the intellect which it furnishes were
LETTER III. 23

moral improvement; as if the brotherhood, which
grows from it, were free from party spirit; as if the
instruction were education; the discipline, character
building; as if, speaking generally, the culture of
youth were a business which could be advantageously
carried on wholesale without regard to individuals,
even as factories by machinery. Let us be on our
guard against favouring this view, otherwise we might
indeed have the fanatics on our side, but the experi-
enced men against us, especially those whose ethical
ideas have attained a suitable degree of refinement.
A truly praiseworthy endeavour and line of action,
but it bears the stamp of a past age!

Do I seem to wish the golden age to come back to
private teachers? Certainly not, at least not at the
cost of the schools. But this you know, that in
the matter of education I regard the suppression of
the family spirit as in the highest degree culpable, and
this is just the point to which I would now require
your somewhat prolonged attention. Scholarly zeal,
higher salary, increased respect for the teacher's
position, examination laws, patriotic impulses, the ever
widening prospect of State promotions of various
kinds—all these working together may rouse youthful
activity directly and indirectly ; the result is something
quite opposed to education if the family spirit is either
altogether absent or working in a different direction.
It results in brotherhood with fellow-pupils or its
reverse, partly the subordination of the weak to
the strong, partly discord among those who lay claim
to the same things. Undoubtedly we may praise in
24 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

many ways the aristocracy of the cleverest, and the
enforced modesty of all others, who early learn to
know their natural limitations; but these are political
words of praise, not educational. The teacher does not
compare his pupil with others, he compares him with
himself, he compares that which the youth becomes
with that which, probably, he might have been. He is
content with none who lag behind their own possible
ideal, he is discontented with none who become as
great as could presumably be expected of them.
Where, then, should the incentive lie which develops
the man according to the measure of the power which
isin him? Each is attached first and most distinctly
to his own family. But what shall we do with those
pupils, who, through loss of parents or some other
misfortune, are in such a position that they do not
know to whom they belong? You must have ex-
perienced, my dear friend, even as I, the uncertainty

1 This should be compared with a remarkable passage in The
Science of Education, p. 109: ‘‘The teacher must represent the future
man in the boy, consequently the aims which the pupil will as an
adult place before himself in the future must be the present care of
the teacher; he must prepare beforehand an inward facility for
attaining them.” Again, on p. 112, Herbart contemplates the possibility
of a teacher setting up a worldly aim for the boy committed to his
care, and asks: ‘‘ Who will warrant us that the future man will not
himself search out the good, to make it the object of his willing, the
aim of his life, the standard of his self-criticism? Who will protect
us against the severe judgment which will then overtake us? How
will it be if he calls us to account, because we presumed to anticipate
the chance which yet perhaps might have brought about better
opportunities of genuine elevation of spirit. . . . It is never safe to
set up as business manager for another if we have no mind to do the
work well.” (See Introduction, p. xlix.)
LETTER III. 25

attaching to education in such cases. However, let it
suffice for the present, if you are not displeased, that
quite at the beginning I thought it more suitable and
more necessary to speak of family relations (as con-
trasted with an avowed or disguised political Science
of Education), than to appeal to the principles of
practical philosophy and psychology. The system to
which we have accustomed ourselves will steal upon
us quite soon enough; at least it stands ready for our
use; and even if unused, it serves as a ground for my
hope that I may informally lay before you for exam-
ination a fragmentary work to be useful or helpful in
any way you please.
Jart I.
INNATE DIFFERENCES.
Szction A.—PHYSIOLOGICAL DIFFERENCES.

Letter IV.

Individual peculiarities—Their basis in the reactions between soul
and body, with special reference to Sensibility, Irritability, and
Vegetation—Disorders arising from physiological deviations from
the normal in quality and quantity—Educational considerations
as regards: (A) Diseases arising from an impaired quality in the
organism; ¢.g., idiocy, scrofula, etc.; possible disappointment to
teacher and pupil in the case of the scrofulous subject—Necessity
of making physical health the first consideration—(B) Diseases
arising from impaired quantity— Fevers, and the weaknesses
connected with undue vascular susceptibility ;— Difficulty of
attaining any continuous steady development in such cases—
Derangement of health—Reaction of the whole organism against
any foreign body causing disease ;—Independence of the different
organs in health, eg., digestion, brain, etc.—Undue irritation
proceeding from the vascular system; restless boys, the mental
dulness which generally follows ;—General weakness of the vascular
system ; a more hopeful case, since it will improve with increased
physical vigour, whereas in the former, the excitements of youth
may quite destroy educational gains.

HAVE often noticed with wonder, my dear friend,

how quickly the family characteristics are brought

out in pupils by a short stay with their relatives

during the holidays. If the permanence of those

peculiarities in manner, speech, and interests, which
26
LETTER IV. 27

obviously take root in many homes, were the same
thing as the family spirit—which I wish to see in
Education ruling over the political—then we should
no longer need to desire that which would take place
of itself. Or, if only affection for one’s relatives were
as quickly acquired as family likeness, it would surely
on that account be worth while to wish for the latter,
for the son’s effort to please his parents is certainly
the firmest centre round which we may collect, and, as
it were, condense in him moral impulses,

But I will not weary either you or myself with
discussion about this matter. Speaking generally, let
us, for the present, refrain from pious wishes. We
too, indeed, must learn to take things as they are,
and if the question why they are thus should also
occupy us, at least it may give rise to a more pleasant
conversation than the consideration of that which
should be different, but which we cannot alter.
Family likeness reminds me of individualities of many
kinds, which will never adapt themselves to the
form of one general plan of education; thus also of
the manysidedness of educational experience, since
in our own doings we are obliged to bear the re-
action of every individual, according to his peculiar
nature.?

The inborn is an heirloom; the habits acquired in
earliest years are a dowry. If necessary, let this

1 That is, if we exercise an influence, we cannot but submit also
to the ‘‘return influence,” or reaction from the person whom we have
thus affected ; and each individual returns our influence in a way
peculiar to himself.
28 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

analogy be my excuse for the sudden change of
thought which I am about to introduce.

Why does the same education have such different
effects on different people? Wherein lies the indi-
viduality which, as a rule, sets itself unalterably
against us? No materialistic physiology is required
to remind us that bodily differences must be reflected
in mental expressions, and you will not be vexed if
I ask you to glance even beyond physiology, at the
science of medicine, so that we may see, not only
the general fact of the union between soul and body,
(for this is not the subject of our research), but the
characteristics of these bodily differences. Help me
to make extracts from the exceedingly clever writings
of my honoured colleague, Sachs,! whose two large,
though, unfortunately, still unfinished works, besides
shorter writings, now lie before me. Whilst I invite
you to this, will you kindly refer sometimes to my
Natural Philosophy, a book which is well known to
you, in order that the connection with our present
aims may be the clearer. Permit me to direct your
attention to a few facts.

The names Sensibility, Irritability, Vegetation, are
familiar. If a medical classification of diseases can be

1 Ludwig Wilhelm Sachs, who was born in 1787 at Grossglogau,
and died in 1848, was in 1818 Professor of Medicine at Kénigsberg.
He was a man of great learning and, like Herbart, vigorously
opposed in his writings the upholders of the old Faculty-Psychology.
He was for this reason accused of being one of Herbart’s adherents.

2 Sensibility,—generally capacity for feeling, —denotes here specially
nerve-activity, as it appears in the living animal organism. Vegeta-

tion (z.¢., nutrition or assimilation), refers to those processes in the
organism on which growth depends. Irritability (z.¢., sensitiveness)
LETTER IV. 29

connected with them, we may expect similar deviations
from the common normal to arise, even in a state of
health, the remote consequences of which will be per-
ceptible to the educator as hindrances to his action,
and will the more surprise him the less he has
concepts at his command to which he can refer back
for an explanation. You know well that it must

is the capacity of the tissues (especially the muscles) for being affected
by, and reacting on, external influences,

Herbart has adopted these names from the works of the famous
doctor and anatomist, Albrecht von Haller (1708-1777),

Sachs divides all forms of disease into three classes :

(L) Inflammatory diseases, in which the sensible and irritable
system generally protects itself against some foreign danger which
presses in upon the organism.

(ii.) Fevers, in which the reaction is specially from the side of
irritability.

(iii.) Nervous diseases, in which the reaction is the result of the
nervous system,

Fevers, in which the nerve-system has been injured or arrested
as to its power of reaction, fall into three classes :

(i.) Synocha (inflammatory fever), in which the nerve-system
cannot itself react against the foreign irritation, but is able to rouse
the system of irritability to energetic reaction, since both systems,
sensibility and irritability, pass into a state of the greatest activity.
This is frequently accompanied by the inflammation of some central
organ—brain, heart, or lungs.

(ii.) Nervous fever, in which the nerve-system is so attacked that
it cannot itself even rouse irritability to vigorous resistance; a
reciprocal action of a fitful character from both systems is the result.

(iii.) Putrid fever, in which the nerve-system is so oppressed and
paralysed that it cannot in any way rouse the system of irritability.

Herbart’s classification takes the following form :

Deviations from the normal as to

A. Quality. Examples: idiocy, scrofula, etc. (1).

B. Quantity. (a) Nerve-system checked ; fevers (2): inflammatory,
nervous, putrid—(d) Inflammatory diseases: entrance of a foreign
body (3), vascular irritation (4), vascular weakness (5).
30 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

be far from my thoughts to change psychology for
physiology; but when we deal with the actual
human being as a whole, have we there simply
psychological effects? Certainly not, rather do we
see mental activity restricted or promoted by the
constant co-operation of the body; and to investi-
gate the exceedingly varied character of such co-
operation must be important to us, even if it should
appear that the advantage of such considerations
can be but small for the Science of Education. If
others seek to find more than is reasonable in the
body, and fail to appreciate the mind, we for our
part must necessarily draw the opposite conclusion.
There is much more to be found on the mental
side than on the physical, while there is less in
the latter than people have thought, though it is
still always important in limiting less fruitful inquiry,
and keeping a place vacant for that which is of con-
sequence.

The course of the investigation will bring out a very
simple distinction, viz., a division according to quality
and quantity. If nerve and blood are altered in quality,
quite a different class of diseases, or, speaking generally,
of abnormal conditions, arise, to those which result
when only the relations of quantity deviate somewhat
from the normal. As an example of the first kind,
I might mention gout; but there is another which
interferes with educational thought only too much as a
frequent childish ailment—that is scrofula. On the
other hand, in the second case, wherein at any rate at
the outset only a relation of quantity comes into con-
LETTER IV. 31

sideration—(and the first or original stage is the only
one of importance to us, since we have not to do with
developed diseases, but only with tendencies to disease)
in this second case, I repeat, a new distinction is
necessary in order to define the chief classes of disease.
We all know, at least superficially, that disturbance of
the vascular system (the heart, arteries, and veins),
which we call fever. Our guide bids us here regard
the activity of the nerve-system as checked, whilst he
places the so-called intermittent fever in quite another
division, so that the whole class of properly-speaking
feverish diseases reduce to Inflammatory, Nervous, and
Putrid fevers. But there still remains a large class
over, after we have put fevers collectively on one side.
That is, if we are no longer to regard the nervous
system as checked, we must expect to find that the
closely connected vascular system and vegetation gene-
rally may be in an unhealthy state of excitement, and
that thus the whole organism seeks to maintain itself
against the existing cause of disease. And this now
actually gives us the first of the three classes, which
I however mentioned last, so as to be able to quote
more conveniently from the works lying before me.
That is, the first important class falls into three divi-
sions, according as the general disorder of the organism
has its seat specially in the nerves, in the vascular
system, or in the sphere of vegetation. Before any
further consideration it is clear that this class will
interest us most, for we naturally presuppose that in
healthy, or at least apparently healthy pupils, the
harmony of the chief systems of the organism is not
382 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

materially injured, and certainly we shall not meddle
with nervous and putrid fevers, but hand them over to
the treatment of the physician. On the other hand, it
matters a good deal to us whether the nervous system,
or the system of the blood, together with irritability,
or lastly mere vegetation, is in the ascendency in an
individual ; in experience we must be prepared to find
here the smallest differences, far-reaching in results.
Specially important to us is the nervous system, and
above all, the brain. Not quite so important is the
spinal cord; at first sight we might be almost inclined
to ignore the ganglion system, at least that part of it
which has its seat in, and which controls the abdomen,
but we should soon bethink ourselves that such nerves
as rendered no immediate service to mental activities
might yet perhaps put all the more hindrances in their
way. Also as regards the blood system, the distinction
should not pass unnoticed as to whether its excitation
would be more easily perceptible in the arterial portion
of the vessels, or in the veins and capillary system.

If you now inquire whether these distinctions can
furnish anything of educational interest, I will try to
lay before you some further considerations.

1. The whole of that large class of diseases, in which
the chief fault lies in an impaired quality of the
organism, seems at first sight to make all education so
manifestly fruitless, that no one anywhere would
attempt to begin or carry it on. Who wishes to under-
take the education of an imbecile——a case which, no
doubt, comes in here? And yet I might mention that
there are different degrees of idiocy; that parents ought
LETTER IV, 33

not too soon to give up hope of a change for the
better, and so on. But far more noteworthy is the
already-mentioned case of scrofula, which warns us
how easily the teacher may get into a position, wherein
he prepares for himself bitter disappointment, in a
matter which he cannot refuse to undertake. That is
to say, remarkable mental activity is not infrequently
combined with a tendency to scrofula. Instruction
is successful, and seems to be richly rewarded; yet,
perhaps, it only raises an unhappy being, who must
of necessity sink down from the heights reached with
the sad consciousness of not being able to maintain his
position. It may be so, but perhaps the contrary will
take place. The disease disappears or disguises itself
during the years of bodily development, if all the
conditions, exercise, pure air, special diet, care of the
skin, co-operate in the proper way. The teacher will
therefore be venturing on an uncertain experiment,
a thing, nevertheless, which we see occur only too
often, and in too many different ways. But, granted a
boy of remarkable intellectual power, tainted with
scrofula, or a like malady, whose family circumstances
were such that one would not expect as a matter of
course that he should wish to study, should we take
such an one out of the position in which he was born,
fearing all the time that at some future day the
cultured mind would feel painfully the lack of a
strong physical support? I am doubtful about it as
far as you and I are concerned; rather do I think
that in such a case we should consider health first
and mental culture second.
c
34 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

2. Would that every kind of fever would leave the
educational sphere alone; it is bad enough if such
cause household cares. But I will not omit to notice
that my educational experience could furnish some
confirmation of the statement, that in fevers the nerves
are affected, for I can think of people who never seem
beyond reach of fever, even when they are well. Their
vascular system has remarkable susceptibility, and they
become flushed or pale without special cause; a state
of confusion in examinations, burning cheeks during
moderate exertion or reproof, painfully suppressed
weeping if crossed in trifling matters, and at the same
time incapacity, or at least great difficulty, in com-
posing themselves when once the emotion has been
aroused,—these and similar signs lead one to the
conclusion that in such the nervous system has
susceptibility to excitation, but no adequate power
of resistance to the reactionary effects of the vascular
system, and thus no power to rule or control them.
If wit, taste, and versatility now raise the spirits of
the teacher, he must set bounds to his hopes. For
even in the bloom of health there lurks a weakness in
this tendency to a feverish condition, which will not
allow anything of a continuous nature to come to perfec-
tion, Thus we cannot reckon on that composure which
is necessary if we are to attain by learning a sure foun-
dation for knowledge. We must expect to find many
things soon forgotten, others distorted; and this evil will
not cease until perhaps a welcome strengthening of the
vascular system takes place, whether it be a gift of nature
or chance, or the work of careful dietetical treatment.
LETTER IV. 35

Let us compare this case now with the former.
We perceive in both disorder in the nervous system,
in both also some hope of improvement, but under
very different conditions.

Scrofula will affect intellectual activity as a con-
nected whole less disadvantageously. It will permit
the building up of a lofty mental structure, but
it threatens it with the worse downfall the higher
it rises, The irritability of the vascular system will
cause more local disorders, and will permit less learn-
ing; on the other hand, it will give greater variety
to the emotions, more play to the feelings, and will
cause weal or woe to both. The worse cases of torpid
scrofula, or of actual disease through exaggerated vas-
cular irritability, we may pass over here.

3. Now if we take it for granted, as a suitable
hypothesis for all education, that the body is healthy,
we must then unquestionably admit, that in case of
the entrance of some foreign element which might
cause disease, the whole organism will be immediately
ready to carry out a reaction. In this, not only brain,
spinal cord, and ganglionic centres, but also the blood,
with the organs which conduct and purify it, the
nervous system, and even vegetation with the diges-
tive organs, which prepare its way—each and all have
their part to play. I say intentionally “in case of the
entrance of a foreign element which might cause
disease!” For so long as it is not required of any
organ to give up the wonted sphere of its activity
and respond to a foreign stimulus, it is inversely quite
characteristic of the signs and requirements of health
36 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

that the organs severally, according to their then
existing circumstances, should continue their functions
without the interference of the one with the activity
of the other. To be sure, even in the best authors
we read the words “ the life act of the whole organism
is but one,” but we scarcely need the reminder that
in this we must recognize an element of the idealistic
nature-philosophy of Spinoza. We may content our-
selves with the most familiar experiences. Nothing
is more certain than that the really healthy man
is not conscious of his body. The famous opposition
of the ego and the non-ego comes to pass quite
casually; even the Idealist as a healthy man considers
the inquiry touching the “mediator” between our
individuality and the outer world, (ie, the body)
as irrelevant, until it perhaps occurs to him afterwards
to investigate in his own way air and light; but he
investigates neither the spinal cord, nor the cauda
eguina, nor the pia mater, nor the dura mater,
because since he has learnt nothing about them he
knows nothing, and ought to know nothing, or he would
cease to be a healthy man.1 No organ ought to draw

1 The cauda equina is the lowest part of the spinal cord. The pia
mater is that very fine membrane which encloses the brain and the
spinal cord. The dura mater is the strong membrane which consti-
tutes the outermost covering of the brain and spinal cord. The point
Herbart seems to emphasize is that the most important physical
processes, even those which are intimately connected with the higher
mental life, are sub-conscious in a state of health. The outer world
presses in upon us from our earliest years, and their very continuity
prevents our noticing the reactions it calls forth in our nervous
structure. When disease sets in, and the organism fails to adjust

itself to the environment, the creaking machinery attracts only too
much painful attention.
LETTER IV. 37

attention to its individual existence; none ought to
proclaim its activity or inactivity,—that is to say,
none ought thus to bring into prominence a change
in the condition of the nerves of the brain. Whilst
digestion is going on the brain yields to thought, and
that which now busies the thinker, out of the entire
thought region, must be a matter of as much indiffer-
ence to the digestion, as the various foods which are
at the moment being digested, should be a matter
of indifference to the brain. Thus if it should happen
that a regulated diet has to be observed, if it even
becomes necessary to remove from the working hours
the time after meals, as unsuitable for study, perfect
health is no longer present.

You will not so misunderstand me as to think that
in this I wish to oppose the most common laws of
prudence in diet. Who would advise wilful im-
prudence? Disease is always threatening, and it
threatens the most healthy. Perfect health is an
ideal ; proximity to it marks the degree of the present
relative health of each individual. And doubtless
I might have called myself comparatively healthy
in my young days, when I had my dinner daily
immediately before school-time, and then ran hurriedly
down the street to sit on the school bench and learn my
lessons. What organic process goes on more easily,
what less disturbs the rest of the organism in youth
than digestion? And how much, on the contrary,
has it to be noticed and considered in more advanced
years! For many years I laughed at those who
warned me, that it was not good for the health to walk
38 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

quickly whilst deep in thought. I walked miles and
miles actually as a means of mentally botanizing the
better. And now,—but silence on that subject.

In short, the more removed from a condition where-
in the different parts of the nerve-system demand the
co-operation of each other’s activities, excite even the
vascular systems and at last drag vegetation itself into
play,—lI repeat, the more removed from such a state of
things, so much the better will that be which we
teachers call health. The boy should be able to sit
still. He should also be able to run when he wishes,
or is ordered to do so, without trouble either to the
brain or the spinal nerve-system.

4, We do not, however, find it thus always. Very
often those who would willingly work whilst sitting
still appear to need some movement; they change the
position of the body, and stretch out arms and legs
hither and thither. No doubt this is due to some
irritation, which, going forth from the vascular system,
communicates itself to the ganglionic centres and the
spinal cord. In rare cases there are little boys of so
restless a temperament that they cannot keep their
feet still a moment during the most pleasant stories or
conversation. Experience tells us that in later years.
we may then expect dulness of mind, and cessation of
mental progress, combined with unwelcome and pre-
mature excitement of the vascular system. Who
would mistake such a condition for that of lively,
active boys, who may indeed show themselves quick
at running and jumping, and also in seizing, lifting,
or handling anything, but who do it always with a
LETTER IV, 39

purpose proceeding from the mind, and not as if
mercury were in the blood and made itself felt in oppo-
sition to the brain. If we had attended more to the
condition of the blood and required less of the brain,
perhaps we might, with a somewhat low diet, have
quieted the vascular system, and done more to prepare
the way for later mental culture. Still I confess that I
consider a real change in such natures very doubtful.
5. There is no doubt that great attention to physical
welfare attains far better results in the case of those in
whom we notice weakness of the vascular system, and
consequent relaxation of mental vigour. Careful diet
and good nourishment help gradually to supply the
lack; and then instruction also is more effective.
However, we must compare this with what has just
been said. These excitable temperaments do not
exactly make instruction difficult, until the period of
youth, but then the storm of emotion brings devasta-
tion into cultivated regions; the gains of instruction
are for the most part lost. On the other hand, one
has seen pale, bloodless children, whose mental activity
is for a long time at a standstill; they hesitate over
their words, while the wrong answers regularly make
their appearance before the right ones; but as the
system of the blood becomes more vigorous the stream
of thought gathers strength, and although the early
boyish years have produced but little, a later age,
nearer that of youth, brings compensation for it.
However, the important relation existing between
the systems of the blood and the nerves, reminds me
of a subject of such consequence to every teacher, that
40 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

in comparison other things often appear trifles,—that is.
memory, the first of all the faculties of the mind, on
which all instruction, the best as well as the worst, /
builds its hopes. For neither the senses, nor the
understanding, nor feeling help the teacher to attain
any result worth mentioning, if what was learnt yester-
day be forgotten to-day, no matter whether it were

seen, or thought, or felt,
Lerrer V.

Memory depends on (i.) the structure, and (ii.) the unchanged re-
production of presentation series—Hindrances in (ii.) obviated by -
shortening the time allowed to elapse—Memory faults: (a) altered
successions ; (5) omissions ; (c) intrusion of foreign matter.

(b) Omissions, frequently caused by failure to understand in the
first instance, ¢.g., in a lesson continued too long, nerve irritation
ends in the reactionary effect of the vascular system on the nerves,
causing failure to apperceive and, therefore, remember.

PHYSIOLOGICAL CoNDITIONS oF A GooD Mremory—A right relation
between the vascular and nerve-systems, otherwise vascular action
may disturb the process of perception and crush retention in the
first stage—Possible connection between rapid or excessive growth,
and general memory weakness,

EE, my friend—even I have come to talk about
memory as a faculty of the soul! Ought I not to

be shocked at myself? At least, I laid aside the pen as
it occurred to me, how often even you, in the midst
of educational experiences, may have found it difficult
where this was concerned, to preserve your faith in my
psychological researches. For do we not see before our
very eyes that some boys have naturally an excellent
memory and some have not? Do we not see that
in this the question as to the existence of a good will
has very little to do with the matter? The greatest
efforts of pupil and teacher cannot obliterate marked
difference, Even the other faculties of the soul, (see

how generous I am!) do not make the situation
41
42 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

any more comprehensible. No special intelligence or
lack of intelligence shows itself in the fact that one
easily repeats what the other forgets. Even the lack
of interest does not hinder the former from retention,
whilst the latter, to be sure, only forgets the more
easily that which he does not consider necessary to
impress upon himself. But the phenomena of memory
are too varied for me to distinguish and investigate
them all at once. We shall often have to refer again
to the subject. For the present let it suffice to
consider them only in connection with my former
letter.

| Memory depends on the structure and unchanged
, Teproduction of the presentation series. The hindrances
' thus lie either in the original structure of the series, or
in their reproduction. Those inaccuracies which lie in
the reproduction, we may consider as, for the most part,
removed, if we allow no time, or very little time, to elapse
between learning and repetition. For what we, properly
speaking, call forgetfulness requires time; other thoughts
must have intruded between the committal to memory
and the repetition; even the worst memory is still
generally correct after the lapse of a quarter of an
hour. And yet does not many a boy forget the very
word which he has looked up in the dictionary only
a couple of minutes before? One who is not accus-
tomed to the use of the Logarithm tables, will scarcely
retain seven figures accurately enough to put them on
paper, without referring more than once to the book,
and carrying out his task piece by piece. Nevertheless,
if we shorten the time during which the thing observed
LETTER V. 43

is to be retained, we shall in any case make clearer the
observation required. There is at least, then, a re-
appearance of a part of that which has been observed,
but in a distorted form, if the series formation has
been faulty; distorted either through altered successions,
or through omissions, or through the intrusion of
foreign matters. The second of these faults is the
simplest; the first and third may for the present
be ascribed to erroneous reproduction, although both
might arise quite reasonably, even during the process
of perception.

As regards omission—the exact opposite of retention
—we must ask first whether what is omitted has in
every case been understood. If the lesson lasts too
long for the pupil, we soon notice that he fails to
understand anything. No wonder then that he retains
nothing even for a minute. This process is indeed
generally physical, on account of the heaping up
of many quite fresh presentations; but we notice
often enough that the wearied pupils can no longer
give an account of the best known facts, they seem
to have forgotten everything, even that which they
may again know the next day. If we do not even
then cease teaching, (though indeed it was time to do
so long before), physical discomfort betrays itself at last
quite unmistakably, and, indeed, as emanating from
the condition of the vascular system. Look and colour
warn us to tell the pupil to stand up that he may have
exercise, which means that the circulation of the blood
may be again free. An emotion has arisen for which
there is perhaps no suitable name, but which plainly
44 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

includes in itself the two constituents of every
emotion,—irritation of the essential parts through the
nerves, and reactionary checking of the nerves on the
part of the vascular system. Some time must elapse
before this emotion is again quieted.

Is this excitation and arrest always a hindrance
to learning? We are reminded of much that was
learnt with tears and sobs, but still was learnt and
remembered. How many a tree has been forcibly
bent, and then, as it goes on growing, has retained the
position into which it was forced? And however
unwillingly we may put it into words, there is a
very healthy, youthful frolicsomeness, which must
necessarily be subdued, if, good-natured as it is, it
is not to be the herald of early vices, or at least
permanent ignorance. But I might call this the
exuberant form of memory-weakness, because it
depends on existing energy, which, too soon deter-
mined as to direction, must be driven out of its
course in order to be better guided. This evil, then,
which is easily cured in early years, may for the
present be set on one side, for it is not by any means
true weakness, but only the deceptive appearance
of it.

Leaving this out of the question, we may state
that a right relation between the vascular and nerve
system is the first essential condition of a good
memory; for the peculiar state of the mind during
perception ought not to be disturbed in the least, if
the newly formed presentation is not to suffer an
arrest, too sudden to bring the desired development
LETTER V, 45

to a proper blending with that which went before
and which follows. If the vascular system can thus
in any way succeed in determining the condition of
the brain in its own way, without being subdued by
an intentional reaction from that quarter, it will then
ruin,—not perhaps, the reproduction, which at other
times would succeed,—but even the first series forma-
tion itself; retention will be crushed in the germ, that
is, in perception.

It is not necessary that we should as yet distinguish
the making of the impression, or the actual memoris-
ing from perception; enough that this far higher
psychical activity must certainly also suffer much, if
the cerebral states are to be exposed to the disturb-
ance of inrushing blood-waves, or if there is any
stoppage of the blood (or the lymph), from all of
which the brain ought just now to be free.

Let us turn to experience; it will not, I think, fail
to confirm us at this point. In the first place the well-
known fact may occur to us, that great minds have
often dwelt in conspicuously small bodies, whose blood-
system has thus exercised no dominant germinat-
ing impulse; and such great men as Frederick and
Napoleon are famous just on account of their memory,
which served as a foundation to their other intellectual
activity. On the other hand, I can think of indi-
viduals whose early growth, not only in height but
at the same time in breadth, was connected with
general memory weakness. And though this cannot
be looked upon as a rule, a specially favourable
structure of the brain, and obviously of the forehead,
46 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

might make up for the disadvantage of vigorous growth
in plethoric bodies, just as far as is necessary to pre-
vent memory weakness from becoming conspicuously
prominent.

But it is very necessary here to think of the two
other nervous systems beside the brain. For in the
first place the brain is closely connected with the rest
of the organism through the spinal cord; and, on the
other hand, the movement of the blood depends for
the most part on the ganglion system; hence, very
complicated relations may arise, the manysidedness of
which is perhaps the reason why common experience
has not long ago led to exhaustive remarks on this
subject.
Letrer VI.

DerFinitions: Irritability is capacity for voluntary movement —
Sensibility, capacity for feeling—Vegetation, includes the remain-
der of physical life—As these form the basis of mental life, dis-
order in one or more gives rise to seven classes of mental disease.
(1) Defective Vegetation: result, the choleric temperament ;
vivacity, often combined with discontent and contradictoriness.
(2) Defective Irritability: result, the ‘‘ musical” temperament
(i.e, in a Platonic sense); cheerfulness, mental activity, with
aversion to physical exercises. (3) Defective sensibility of three
kinds: (a) In the inner sense, resulting in the so-called Boeotian
temperament, characterized by a general dulness and inertness in
the mental life, untinged by excitement; (b) In the brain, the
sanguine temperament, characterized by frivolity or self-conscious-
ness ; as a pupil, the Beeotian is apt to be indifferent and stolid,
the sanguine forgetful and pleasure-seeking ; cases which are
Beotian and sanguine by turns; others which are sanguine in
the outer life, though Beotian in the inner. (4) Defective
Vegetation and Irritability ; ¢.e., the melancholic temperament ;
such subjects are peevish and yet indolent, needing help, yet
incapable of finding it for themselves. (5) Defective Vegetation
and Sensibility ; the Beeotian subject of choleric temperament, or
the knavish dunce. (6) Defective Irritability and Sensibility ;
the phlegmatic temperament, approaching almost to the plant’s
life. (7) Defective Vegetation, Irritability and Sensibility, resulting
in Imbecility.

EAVING you to ascertain whether you can
derive more information from medical writings
on psychical peculiarities which depend on the blood,
I must now remind you of my Natural Philosophy
in which, as you know, I have restricted the notions

of irritability and sensibility more than is usual, because
47
48 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

I have rather followed Haller, as I could not convince
myself that the extension of his class-names helped
the matter to any clearer explanation. For the present
I will not touch any further on the physiological
questions. From an educational standpoint the con-
sideration of the disturbance, which a rush of blood
may cause in the stream of thought, is quite distinct
from the consideration of strong and weak muscles,
by which more or less physical activity and vigour
is assured to our pupils; and for us only confusion
would arise if we wished to bring into relation
the former and the latter simply by the word
“irritability.” Just in the same way sensibility of
the ganglion system, so long as thereby no sensa-
tions come into consciousness, is for us something
quite different from the frankness of mind, and easy
perception, on which we immediately depend for
education. Do not wonder, then, if from this point
I relegate entirely to the process of vegetable growth,
as to the third factor in animal life, many things to
which our attention is not directed in irritability and
sensibility, and this, as it seems to me, not without
physiological reason; for even the nerves and the
muscles certainly possess vegetable growth; they
certainly have their health and disease as vege-
tables; they must grow like all other parts of the
body, and as they increase it is highly probable that
they also decrease, and thus suffer metabolic assimila-
tion, which actually constitutes the real fundamental
condition of all vegetation. On the other hand, in
Irritation and Sensation this change of matter does
LETTER VI. 49

not come under consideration; muscles and nerves
have their activity here as something now existent,
and not as that which is only developing. Hence I
might, by way of comparison, remind you of the
chief principles of mechanics. Accelerating forces
produce velocities; but the first differential of space
does not depend on the forces, but only on the already
existing velocity.

Thus, from this point, I understand by the term
irritability nothing but capacity for voluntary move-
ment; by sensibility, simply capacity for feeling. All
the rest of physical life I comprehend under the
expression, “vegetation,” which, as far as I am con-
cerned, may amongst other things include, from this
point of view, even the muscles and nerves.

This pre-supposed, we now proceed to a search for
some method of combination. Whilst vegetable growth,
irritability, and sensibility still always determine the
basis upon which the mental world arises, we may
refer the limitations which are to be feared on its
behalf from that quarter, to seven possible cases; for
either one, or two, or all three of these factors of
physical life may suffer, thus:

1. The vegetable life alone may suffer, not, however,
to that extent or in such a way as to produce a notice-
able loss in movement and feeling. So we may see
our pupil in full activity of body and mind, strong
and energetic in fetching and carrying, observing and
thinking, and yet, nevertheless, peevish, as one who,
while apparently healthy, is yet oppressed or troubled
by hidden disease.

D
50 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

I believe that very many bad signs, which are a
source of the greatest embarrassment to the teacher,
are to be traced to a condition of this sort. We
cannot. deny that experience shows us contradictory
minds; it shows them to us even in the early years
of boyhood. There are children who are never
contented, who taste bitter drops in every cup, who
find fault with, blame, and speak evil of everything,
because they always look on the dark side of things,
and even in enjoyment are never really happy. Evil
in them develops so easily and so early that one is
involuntarily reminded of original sin. Sometimes, but
not always, their bodily structure betrays something
wrong; but could anyone be surprised if, in some cases,
such a thing should be completely hidden? Every
capable teacher will, to be sure, put such subjects
under strict discipline; will inspire them with respect
and even fear; he will, at the same time, be careful
not to irritate them unnecessarily, and least of all jest
with them.

But these are palliative measures. Careful diet,
strict moderation in lessons and enjoyments, perhaps
medicine, is necessary for them. Amusement is
salutary, if only we can procure it in harmless ways.

With these we contrast others, in whom the happy
disposition to see everything in a rosy light reigns
from early youth on into later life. Unfortunately for
thought and action, they are not disposed to attain
truth by means of criticism; fair illusion is the
element of their life. With such the educator has
no trouble, except perhaps as a teacher who has to
LETTER VI. 51

make their mental vision more keen. The doctor will
scarcely admit that these are any more healthy than
the former. If only all conditions of disease were
manifest to the physician! Would that at least
diagnosis were not lacking in the teacher, so that he
might take care not to confuse these with subjects
apparently similar, but far more easy to cure, the
cause of whose disease is mistaken treatment in very
early years. Under this heading would come in cases
where there has been severity in the father with secret
indulgence from the mother, stratagems on the part of
those about them soon discovered, and also successful
imitation of bad examples. Improvement is difficult
also in this case, but it lies then in the sphere of the
teacher, who will not be obliged to ask the physician
more questions than the latter can answer.

In order to give a name for future use to the
first case mentioned, we will remind ourselves of
the well-known distinction of the temperaments.
The choleric, whose secret disorder was once sought
for in the gall, in whom, nevertheless, there was
acknowledged to be vivacity of body and mind, and
who suffers through ill-humour without sufficient
outside cause, may pass here for the contradictory
nature.

2. Irritability alone may be the seat of disorder.
Here we recognize the cheerful, good-hearted boy, to
whom, however, through muscular weakness, inner
activity is more natural than outer. Among his com-
panions he is immediately recognized, because, by
activities of a mental kind, he aspires to compensa-
52 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

tion for that honour which youth so eagerly seeks in
gymnastics. According to Plato music is the antithesis
of gymnastics; so we will call this the musical tempera-
ment. It is clear what the teacher will do for his
improvement: he will prescribe for him movement,
moderate physical exercise, baths, if possible sea-
bathing; and he may sometimes stop his reading.

3. Sensibility alone may be defective, but this factor
of the physical being is so important to us from a
psychological point of view, that we must consider it
in sections :

(a) There is a sensibility which ordinary psycho-
logists would attribute to the inner sense. If this be
lacking the man takes but little notice of his own
states. His thoughts may change, but they do not
therefore disturb his wonted composure. He knows
that the vicissitudes of life have brought him joy or
sorrow; he knows it, indeed, but no special mental
excitement follows, least of all such an excitement as
we are wont to call emotion. His fundamental tone
of feeling remains on the whole unchanged. We will
ascribe to him the so-called Boeotian temperament;! but
I must add that I have only found it very noticeable in
experience, when it was at the same time connected
with some dulness of the outer senses. Perhaps the
possibility of it is bound up with some addition of
that sort, in those cases in which it ought to be

1 Beotia was a district of Greece proper, the capital of which was
Thebes; it was famous as the reputed birthplace of Bacchus and
Hercules. In classical literature the inhabitants of Beeotia are referred

to as being noted for their stupidity,—hence the use of the word here
to denote the dull peasant type.
LETTER VI. 53

regarded as natural temperament, and not as only the
consequence of a very uniform manner of life; for to
conceive of an organic tendency to the possession of
an inner sense, which may be present or may not, shows
utter ignorance of true psychology. Hindrances may
certainly be conceived of, but even the outer senses
may excite more or less the total nervous activity, and
thus make habitual a greater or Jess flux in the
emotional life. It may be, and is even probable, that
there are different degrees of rapidity with which the
sensations spread themselves throughout the nervous
system; and that by reason of the delay which the
otherwise adequate sense activity suffers in many
people, the whole nervous condition attains a kind
of constancy; this is maintained, even when other-
wise inner apperception would tend to arouse vigorous
emotions, which would determine as they liked the
whole disposition, or in other words, the collective
mass of presentations. Of the case when single outer
senses are weak we will not speak particularly; we
will, however, notice a wrong relationship, wherein the
two chief branches of sensibility may appear in oppo-
sition to each other.

(b) As a rule the sensibility of the brain ought to
be very great as compared with that of the ganglion
system. This proportion may be disturbed, not indeed
merely by a defect in vegetation, but actually by its
rapid progress at a time when the brain does not keep
up an equal advance.

Under this heading we find the Sanguine subject,
who is far too conscious of his own well-being and also
54 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

of the smallest lack therein, and cannot overcome the
feeling by thought or will. The Sanguine subject stands
nearer to the Beeotian than one would think. In grave
situations the one appears frivolous, the other patient;
that is to say, both are careless if there is no immediate
pressure. Still, if necessary, one will be the more
quickly aroused, and the other will accomplish the
most. Both, however, let things come to them, pro-
vided that the Sanguine has present well-being, and the
Beeotian, peace. Both cause anxiety enough to the
teacher, although the Beeotian learns diligently and
regularly what is given him, whilst the Sanguine
hastily seizes upon that which does not give him
trouble, or waits till what is required is forced or
coaxed out of him. What good is it if the Beotian
learns and retains? He feels nothing, he is indif-
ferent to everything, if his repetition is over he has
finished. To what purpose is it that the Sanguine
subject easily grasps that which he immediately
forgets? Even the compulsion and coaxing is effec-
tive only for a time. He will soon hasten to fling
himself into the whirlpool of pleasure. The higher
mental life will ever be as foreign to the one as to the
other.

Some I have regarded as Beotian and Sanguine by
turns. Is that wonderful? Higher sensibility is lack-
ing. If we ask why it is lacking we often indeed see
no reason beyond the deficiency itself; at other times
a love of ease is evident which would, above all things,
make for comfort or merriment. Sometimes there is
an incomprehensible patience in receiving reproofs and
LETTER VI. 55

in saying a hundred times over one repetition ; some-
times the most marked impatience is apparent in the
pupil, who can only be induced to sit still by the
exercise of personal authority, not by the interest
taken in the subject, and who cannot be forced to
listen and reflect.

And often enough the Sanguine subject really lies
hidden behind the Boeotian. On the other hand, he
who is Sanguine in the outer, may be Beeotian enough
in the inner life. The second and third classes will not
detain us so long, for in cases wherein more than one
factor of the physical life is lacking, the spirit is not
merely embodied, but actually imprisoned.

4, Vegetation and irritability are both lacking at
the same time to an appreciable extent. Such is the
melancholy subject, or the sickly woman: peevish and
indolent, needing help, and incapable of looking round
for it themselves, Yet if sensibility is still awake
there is here an opportunity for a very kindly educa-
tional providence to do valuable service, and more
often than we might think it finds itself rewarded, if
only it does not seek brilliant results. It is evident
that education in such a case must be at once physical
and mental, that it must not only strengthen, but also
brighten and encourage.

5. Vegetation and sensibility are both seriously
lacking. Only irritability is still prominent. What
can it then produce? It can still destroy; at
least, it can injure. The Beotian subject of choleric
temperament,—the knavish dunce—belongs to this
class.
56 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

6. Irritability and sensibility, both lacking at the
same time; still, vegetable growth is flourishing. Thus
we approach the plant’s life: the phlegmatic subject
vegetates. The highest degree of phlegm already
approximates to the following and last class.

7. A threefold defect: vegetable growth, irritability,
sensibility, are all lacking at once. This results in
imbecility. To speak more particularly of the three
last classes as regards education would be to abuse
the patience of my friend.
Letter VII.

Different interpretations of the names given to the temperaments
—Distinction to be drawn between inborn and acquired tempera-
ments; eg., the sanguine may be depressed to melancholy by
tyranny, the gentle may be made choleric by teasing, while the
monotonous life of the peasant tends to produce the Bootian—
Temperament, regarded as that which is inborn, is a natural
defect, since in the ideal pupil the three factors of physical life
should work perfectly and in due proportion.

HE names of the Temperaments have been subject

to many interpretations, in the same way that

the four cardinal virtues of the Ancients? still retain
the old names, though with great difference in the
concepts. You might remind me even of my own
psychology, wherein the sanguine and melancholy
temperament has been traced back to differences in
feeling ; and, on the other hand, the choleric and phleg-
matic, to the degree of excitability in the emotions.
And where then is the Beeotian temperament? Let us
in any case begin with this, so that we may afterwards
throw light also on the rest. The Bceotian tempera-

1 The so-called four cardinal virtues of the Ancients, according
to the Stoics, (who regarded virtue as one, though appearing in four
chief aspects), were Wisdom (¢pdvyors), Courage (dvdpela), Temperance
(cwppoctvn) and Justice (dexacoovvy). In Plato’s ideal Republic,
Wisdom appertains to the ruling class, Courage to soldiers, Temper-
ance to the handicraftsmen, and Justice, as the harmonizing principle,
to all classes and relations.

57
58 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

ment or the boorish,—which name pleases you best ?
Both are to signify one and the same thing. But how
is that possible? Suppose that the Bceotians, as a
tribe, had a peculiarly unfavourable organization as a
common hereditary defect,—have peasants universally,
not counting Beotians, the same defect? You easily
observe the confusion of two completely different
concepts: innate peculiarity in a race, and acquired
peculiarity through position in life. This is the main
point also as regards the other temperaments. We
can make a child, and even a man, into a choleric
subject by frequent annoyances which he is obliged to
endure. Perhaps he was originally the gentlest of
men. By tyranny we can depress him to melancholy,
if he were originally sanguine. Many an one experi-
ences the same change of temperament through his
own fault, because he plunges himself into misery
and regret. And the peasant, with his trained muscles,
hardened skin, habitual round from harvest to seed
time, seed time to harvest, uniform life, with no
prospect of riches and honour,—becomes on every spot
of the earth a Beotian, let his natural temperament
be what it will. What then does it mean if anyone
prides himself on being of a choleric-sanguine tem-
perament? Certainly not the contradiction, which,
according to my earlier explanation would exist, if the
vegetable growth were at the same time accused of
deficiency and excess; nor even the solution of the
contradiction which someone might attempt, because
he saw vegetable growth going on impetuously, and
for that very reason, inharmoniously in its different
LETTER VII. 59

parts. On the contrary, choleric-sanguine ought to
mean active and happy, for no one considers it credit-
able to be phlegmatic, that is to say, idle; and no one
likes to live in a melancholy, and therefore a miserable
state of mind. But still the effect of such changes is
to prevent the distinction between the four tempera-
ments from being of any use to education,—even if in
psychology, (and you know how here everything is
wont to fall into confusion), the feelings were duly
distinguished from the emotions. For in education the
distinction is very significant between what is inborn,
which is fixed in the organism, and what is acquired,
which ever permits hope of improvement; and so long
as such concepts lie still in confusion, practice can
receive no light from theory. If in psychology I
permitted myself to take the words in their ordinary
usage, and to make clear, as occasion served, that
feelings are not emotions and emotions are not feelings,
that ought not to hinder me now from marking out
the temperaments collectively as natural defects, as
soon as we see in them only what is inborn: so
that an ideal pupil should have no temperament at
all, just because the three factors of physical life in
him ought to work together perfectly and in proper
proportion.
Lerrer VIII.

Influence of defects in social surroundings—The case of a gentleman,
remarkable for justice, high principle, ability, and successful
attainment, whose children, in spite of apparently the utmost
care, had not turned out well—Possible causes: evils of too many
tutors; dangers inherent in the possession of great wealth ;
absence of impulse to earnest work—The opposite case of hard
surroundings: the ‘‘ withering of the southern plants born in a
northern clime.”

HAVE just come back from an excursion to ——.

A few of the company were still together ; amongst
others some foreigners, who were pleased to meet each
other and be reminded of acquaintances at a distance.
The conversation turned on agriculture, and on neigh-
bourhoods where it was in a specially flourishing con-
dition. The talk for some time was about a gentleman,
who, when he had come into his property, found there
only swamp, sand, and half-used-up woodland, but who,
through industry and good management, had made out
of it a paradise. His severity was called to mind
against even the slightest carelessness, but with it his
perfect equanimity, with regard to loss which occurred
through natural events, to which no blame attached.
His skill in ruling men was especially praised,—often,
to be sure, a rule of considerable sternness, in
accordance with the principle, “Love must spring
out of severity.” His taste was also commended, and

60
LETTER VIII. 61

the elegance of his social life, the liberality with which
he showed visitors what was worth seeing, the favour
and respect which he had won from high and low. In
short, they described a man, to whom, according to
the above analysis, I should probably ascribe no
temperament at all, but who, in the ordinary usage
of speech, might have been called in the main choleric,
and also in a less degree sanguine.

The conversation also turned on the sons of this
man, only to that extent, however, that the sons of
very rich parents do generally make themselves talked
about. Had economy, eagerly pursued perhaps, occupied
the man too much for him to think of education? Oh
no! many tutors had been employed. Had womanly
co-operation been lacking? Not so! mother and
father lived for their children. In what the failure
actually consisted I obtained no information, but was
left to my conjectures.

The thought first occurs to us both, my dear friend,
that the many tutors are somewhat suspicious. For
supposing even that one of them had all the responsi-
bility as a teacher, that this one had at least known and
taken to heart Niemeyer’s principles, and that he was
above being blinded and led away by the splendour of
a wealthy household, so as to seek enjoyment rather
than work, the question still remains whether the
others would willingly afford him proper assistance ;
whether the soul would thus be so uplifted through
religion,—so guided into the past by means of history,
—into distant lands by means of geography,—as would
be necessary to balance the possession of a glittering
62 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

environment, which only invited enjoyment. As
regards this point I leave it to your judgment whether
the question might not perhaps be inverted. For we
might have supposed just the opposite, that the con-
sideration of distant lands, of the past, and even, in
such a connection, of that which is higher, if it did not
penetrate very deeply, might have resulted in a sort of
diversion, and have drawn away practical thought from
immediate concerns. Otherwise the worthy economist
wight at least have had the joy of his sons treading in
his footsteps, and, like him, employing themselves in
the scientific management of field, meadow, and forest.
Instead of following out these thoughts here any
further, I must explain to you why I let something
apparently foreign to the subject come in after my
earlier remarks about temperaments. Certainly not
with the idea that the sons of this gentleman, accord-
ing to information which I had received, might be
suspected of any natural defects, such as those to which
I have given the name of the temperaments; on the
contrary, we may assume that they would be choleric
like their father, only not strict towards subordinates
with so appropriate a severity. We might imagine
also that the sons would perhaps have a little more of
what we call the sanguine temperament, without thus
being obliged to think of my former interpretations of
those words, which deviated from the ordinary usage of
speech. My intention was to call this fact to mind,
that in the series of faults through which education
may suffer, and is wont to suffer very frequently, the
consideration of unfavourable surroundings must follow
LETTER VIII. 63

the mention of natural defects, wherein the most
healthy natures often enough so entangle themselves,
that excellent parents and able educators and teachers
cannot in the end rejoice in their labour. Your
experiences will have told you, just as mine have told
me, that even where riches do not lead to luxury, or
high station to flattery, healthy children, nevertheless,
grow up with the evidences of being pampered and
spoilt; perhaps only for this reason, that in the lap of
fortune, with wants satisfied and the future void of
care, they receive no sufficient impulse to earnest
work. The northern plant is then to its loss born in
the south. In cases of this kind I wonder whether the
severity of our present gymnasiums, with their terrible
final examination, afford any real help? Superficial
observers will rashly answer in the affirmative, and
I feel inclined to admit that at least an important
mitigation of the evil is obtained through this
assistance, transitory though it is, and by no means
thorough. With real pity we shall here bear in mind
the counterpart of such a case; that is, the southern
plants which wither, because they are born in a
northern clime. But this is too familiar for us to
linger over it here, for we cannot help it. Moreover, I
only wished to remind you of these unfavourable sur-
roundings and not detain you over them; rather do
I wish to reserve your patience for subjects, the
examination of which will cost us more trouble.
Lerrer IX.

Bearing of the preceding considerations on psychical matters—Such
psychical differences as are indicated by the terms ‘‘southern and
northern natures,” and which appear even in children, seem to
hint at the existence of soul faculties—Cases of children who
show remarkable memory, understanding, feeling, will, etc. : (1)
Theoretical defect in the faculty doctrine—When certain faculties
are supposed to exist, the peculiar function ascribed to them is
not always present as their effect ; (2) Its practical uselessness—
Its supporters state facts already well known concerning mental
differences, but bring forward no explanation of them—Their
investigations concerning lunacy are premature as regards educa-
tion, since so much is still to be done in examination of the
normal type—Herbart has more sympathy with the theological
inquiry into the origin of evil than with the extreme Libertarian
position.

OUR thoughts will anticipate mine, and it seems

to me that I already hear you ask: “How can
there be southern and northern natures?” How could
there be indeed unfavourable external surroundings if
it were not an evidence to us of internal difference?
Relationships are always guides to the actual condition
of the things related,! and if here, the son of the work-
man would thrive better in the lap of wealth, and there,
on the other hand, one would wish for the young count
1 That is, the very fact of the want of harmony between certain
individuals and their environment, or the evidently defective relation-
ship maintained between the two, whereby the worst developments
seem to arise, is an evidence that the individuals in question must

differ from each other. We may compare with this the following
64
LETTER IX, 65

that he had been born a farmer’s son, the reason for it
must lie finally in a difference, which, if the education
is not to blame, we can only seek in natural disposition.
This consideration leads us next into the sphere of
empirical psychology, since we now set on one side
such differences as were before connected with the
physiological concepts of Sensibility, Irritability, and
Vegetation.

Not only from hearsay, but from the personal
observation of years and from educational experience,

extract from CHARLES UFER’s Introduction to Herbart, translated by
ZINSER :—

‘It follows that two pupils with exactly the same educational
influences would develop absolutely alike, provided that—

‘*(1) Their bodily constitutions were completely identical.

**(2) Their acquired capabilities were the same.

6©(3) The hidden and uncontrollable influences which assist in edu-
cation were in their minutest details identical as to quality and
degree. But as these two factors never entirely agree, children of
the same environment must develop differently. The educator cannot
make of his pupil what he will; he cannot form him entirely accord-
ing to his mind (as Helvetius, not Herbart, claims), for the inherent
and acquired powers, together called individuality, resist his influence
when he has reached a certain limit; there are in addition to this
all manner of influences that hinder the teacher and cross his plans,
so that the pupil does not even become entirely known to him.”

While strongly opposing the doctrine that the soul could be divided
into a number of Faculties, Herbart held equally strong views as to
the reality and great importance of Individuality. None knew better
than he, that, whatever our theories, we shall have, sooner or later,
to reckon with “southern or northern natures,” and fortunate is the
teacher “if individuality in no way combats his efforts, or by giving
them a crooked direction, causes something different to be developed,
which neither teacher nor pupil would desire. The latter fate almost
always befalls those who have had no experience in dealing with men,
and therefore are ignorant of the way in which to treat in the boy, the
already existent man.” (The Science of Education, p. 113.)

zg
66 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

I am aware of differences, which become clearly promi-
nent even in boyhood, and which afford the strongest
support to the doctrine, as widespread as it is mistaken,
of the soul faculties. On the one hand, a special facility
in voluntary remembering or Jearning by heart is often
prominent, which we usually ascribe to the memory,
although it is a very different thing to the involuntary
retention of events and words. On the other, although
much more rarely, there is an early disposition to linger
over abstract propositions and concepts, (to inquire
about grammatical rules for example), on account of
which the understanding is praised, although this
talent is very far removed from cleverness, cunning,
caution, or discretion. Or again, a remarkably religious
temper appears in children, whereby religious instruc-
tion obtains a value, and makes an impression which
we seek in vain with the majority; then moral reason is
commended, although honesty, love of truth, and sense
of justice, though readily uniting with it, are also often
to be noticed among those whose thoughts do not yet
rise beyond this world. We see great strength of will
sometimes, though but rarely in boyhood. I have
found it, however, in very different characters; always,
indeed, with traces of that which is commonly blamed
as wilfulness, and generally connected with a certain
reserve, which would not give way immediately or to
anyone. The qualities accompanying it, however, were
very different; in the one case there was intrinsic
honesty, and in the other craft. Meanwhile, in this
we must notice that the whole difference, if I accu-
rately recall the experience, might be traced back with
LETTER IX. 67

great probability to early impressions of environment
in quite childish years; so that this disposition,
although greatly requiring careful education, may
still be reckoned among excellent ones, if only it is
not bound up, (which may also happen), with a Beeotian
insensibility to every kind of instruction, for in this
case it scarcely permits the teacher to reach it. In
contrast to such appear the so-called keen intellects,
which grasp everything quickly, but do not retain it
firmly; pupils who chat pleasantly on a subject, but
think little about it; seek to seize upon enjoyment where
they can find it, and therefore try even to accommodate
themselves to instruction during lessons, in order to
spend the time with as little unpleasantness as possible.
They submit to exhortations, as for the present inevit-
able; if obliged to listen now to praise and now to
blame, in their thoughts the praise grows fantastically
great, and the blame diminishes, because after all
there is no true interest and no true will in them;
feeling rules, even the feeling of the moment, and they
have no serious purpose to set up opposition to it.
Every teacher who looks back at his own circle of
experience will in this way find many things to think
about in the words memory, understanding, reason,
will, emotion; and if he is satisfied with superficial
reflection he will believe that the assumption of soul
faculties is now verified by most undeniable facts,
But if he attempts to invert the argument, another
and a serious aspect will appear; for when proceed-
ing from these soul faculties, as the supposed actual
causes of the differences in experience, he will nowhere
68 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

obtain definite explanations. When memory, under-
standing, reason are present, then everything which
is ascribed to these faculties as their peculiar function
ought to appear as their action and effect. And it
sounds quite right and even impressive, if the teacher
speaks somewhat thus to the young man, who has
repeated his part in little comedies: “Do you see, my
friend, what a good memory you seem to have? Why,
then, do you not remember words and grammar ?
Why are you always behindhand in chronology and
even in geography?” The youth will not know how
to answer, but if the teacher so speaks in sober
earnest and does not see any deeper than that, he is to
be pitied. Such words as these would be utterly
ridiculous: “You evidently have feeling, for you give
yourself up to the pleasures of leaping and shouting ;
you are sensitive to reproof, and you act as if you
already possessed a kind of honour which ought not to
be impugned. Why, then, have you so little sense of
duty?” The pupil thus addressed would certainly have
difficulty in guessing, how anyone could manage to put
into one class a sense of duty and the momentary
feeling of pleasure and pain; and then, on the ground
that he had the one, demand from him also the other.
In books and papers you may daily notice, my
good friend, the behaviour of those whose atten-
tion we would call to the theoretical deficiency, and,
(most important of all), the practically useless and mis-
leading nature of the doctrine of the soul faculties.
First, the separate faculties are lightly brought before
us, as if no empirical cause existed why we should
LETTER IX. 69

believe in them. “We have already known a long
time” (they say) “that all the faculties together are,
after all, only one power of the mind.” To this we
would answer, that with such an evasion, the undeni-
able difference in minds becomes still more incompre-
hensible, and the metaphysical error in the idea of the
so-called one power, which is to be equal to many
faculties, becomes still worse than before; so we begin
to hear different words: “Do not mention metaphysics ;
who would trouble himself about metaphysics? Who
would indeed study mathematics for the sake of
psychology? We boast of our experience. You must
leave us our experience.” So people talk whose ex-
perience has been collected in the study. Now they
teach everyone in the name of empirical psychology that
which he already knows, and which, perhaps, if he did
not know, would be, as far as he is concerned, incom-
prehensible. But it becomes clear that such teaching
and learning end by being exceedingly wearisome ; then
they stray into the lunatic asylums, and make believe
that psychology is a medical science. Let us leave
that alone. Our educational sphere of experience is too
precious for us to be inclined to exchange it for the
hundred-fold repeated stories of madness and delirium,
always similar to each other, and that for very good
reasons; but the chief point is, that practical necessity
forces upon us the care of a youth, which is not yet at
an age when madness and delirium are even possible.
And fortunately for the welfare of mankind, we have
no cause to believe that some form of madness, or of
any mental decay lurks in the majority of the pupils
70 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

who cause us anxiety. Only would that scrofula, fever,
and fits lay equally far off! As long as even scrofulous
subjects and those afflicted with infantile fits come into
our sphere only as exceptions, how little are we called
upon to trouble ourselves about possible insanity in
the future. How lucky we should be if the course of
investigation had, in our case, gone on to the exceptions,
instead of even the most ordinary things making us
feel our great lack of knowledge, and the difficulty of
really necessary investigations! After all, as far as
theologians are concerned, on whose hearts lies heavy
the question as to the origin of evil, you know, my dear
friend, that I agree with them most decidedly as to the
gravity of the question, and I also find their conversa-
tion incomparably more appropriate to the matter in
hand, than the ever-repeated talk of the opposite party
about freedom, words which, from an educational point of
view, mean nothing but absolute ignorance, which is
too obstinate to wish to learn anything ; but, unfortu-
nately, there is no hope at all of obtaining from these
theologians any useful explanation about that which
we have todo. Let such pupils, as can be reached by
theological remedies, accept them, if suitable precau-
tions are taken against the pharisaic pride of those
who call themselves pre-eminently good. We know
only too well that the number of those who cannot be
reached in this way is far greater, and will always
remain so.}
1 See Introduction, pp. xliv.-xlvii.
Section B.
PHYSIOLOGICAL-PSYCHOLOGICAL DIFFERENCES.

LETTER X.

Co-operation of the physical and psychical in emotion—Quick alter-
nations of laughter and tears in children—Reaction of the body
on the mind—Difference between children and adults in this
respect, due to the greater independence in the different organs of
the latter—Educational importance of this, since deviation in any
one point may prove injurious to the child’s whole inner world—
Great importance of the emotions: their effects,—stammering,
facial contortions, etc.—Variable dispositions in children through
different surroundings, and at different ages—Frequent repetitions
of earlier stages, ¢.g., the wild youth returns to the nobler aims of
boyhood ; the child, now receiving careful education, shows perver-
sity, previously developed—Effect of a good education in delaying
the development of many emotions, opposing inner tumult, and
hastening the attainment of inner freedom of the will.

OW would it be, my friend, if we agreed to retrace

our steps for a while? Truth to tell, I have dwelt

on psychology in the immediately preceding pages, at an
earlier point than we seem to have reached for serious
investigation in this province. It was my purpose
to give an introductory review of the points which
must be called in question; but the consciousness of
present difficulties throws us back upon the physio-
logical considerations before touched on; for those
very differences of temperament, which, for the super-

ficial observer, bring to light quite prominently now
71
72 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

this, and now that isolated mind faculty, are those
which cannot at all be explained by pure psychology ;
they belong not to the mind, not to the presentations,
not to the series which shape themselves therefrom,
nor to their higher products and methods of action,
but to the bodily conditions to which the soul
is subjected in this or that individual. Much indeed
is considered psychological, which is really physiologi-
cal, and such an error easily leads one afterwards
to consider purely mental life as physical.

But I have obtained no better explanation from
physiologists of the subjects really lying on the
border-land between psychology and physiology, than
from those who call themselves psychologists. Rather
am I here left far more than I like to my own experi-
ments. Be content with the few which I venture to offer.

When I paused at the subject of temperaments we
had already touched slightly on the emotions, and
you must have found the mention of them too cursory.
You could not indeed have missed here the proper
psychological concept of them, viz, deviation of
the presentations from equilibrium, for that is an
abstraction, and the completely developed phenomenon
of the emotion, as we perceive it in children, embraces
much more. Children laugh and ery, and thereby
capillaries and muscles are visibly excited; indeed,
often with them the sun shines out again while it
is still raining; and at another time laughing does not
by any means cease, though our threat has already
called forth fear. In short, the emotion is evidently
not merely psychical but also physical, only the two
LETTER X. 73

phenomena are not entirely and precisely simul-
taneous. Rather is the comparison with the sea
appropriate here, which, gradually roused by the storm,
goes on raging for a while, and makes the nearest
stratum of air restless, when the atmosphere as a
whole is already still. So the body is at first strongly
affected by the mind; but then in the former the
agitation continues, and in its turn will not allow the
mind to immediately regain its natural state and
activity. Again, do we not know from our own
experience, that when once anger has obtained the
mastery, the solitary corner is our best refuge where
the storm may wear itself out? In cases when we
cannot do this, longer and sometimes serious suffering
threatens the health.

Now listen to my hypothesis. The relationship just
mentioned might easily appear and repeat itself, not
merely between mind and body generally, but, to define
it more accurately, first in the interchange of activity
between the mind and the nerves, then between
the different parts of the nervous system,—brain,
spinal cord, ganglia,—further, between these and the
vascular system, together with the blood and the
other humours, and finally, between the humours and
vegetation with its manifold organs.

It can indeed scarcely be otherwise, for every force,
which works for a time, accelerates in the physical
world the existing motion, and at the moment when
the acceleration ceases, the generated motion does not,
as we might assume, cease; but, on the contrary, at
that very moment reaches its maximum, from which
74 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

it is only gradually reduced by means of the existing
hindrances.

But very great differences may appear in the
rhythm of such events, according as the members
of a connected whole are more or less excitable as
regards each other. The man does not laugh s0 easily
as the child; he weeps seldom or not at all. His
perfect health demands that the different systems and
organs should approach an independence, which is not
to be thought of either with children or with women.
This is particularly manifested in the fearlessness of the
warrior, which is lost as soon as the thought of danger
can work through the nerves or the blood system.
With children, on the other hand, all the parts of the
organism share in each other’s activities; every stimu-
lus affects the whole. Thisis the reason why they should
have no wine or anything exciting. Hence, too, they
do not require nearly such strong medicine as men.
They should not have to suffer from any long want of
nourishment or any long periods of wakefulness, but
frequent sleep after great activity in the day. These
are only familiar things, but they all remind us, how
with a child, everything stands in some connection,
everything is affected by everything else, and the
slightest deviations in any one point must, in the
course of time, prove injurious to the right con-
struction of the whole.

Let us remember how everything is rooted in the
emotions. Stammering originates in embarrassment ;
the strangest contortions of the face may be tried
in the play of fancy, and later on they remain as
LETTER X. 75

a habit; absurd expressions of flattery are lovingly
put together, and are repeated in moments of the
most devoted affection; beside these there are rough
invectives and formule of protestation, even hack-
neyed puns and word-play,—in short, a host of things
which annoy governesses and private tutors still
more than real educators, for the simple reason that
they do not always deal with the cause of the
emotion, but wage war with its expression in order
to preserve decorum. The true educator is, on the
other hand, at least not quite without resources, which
enable him so to penetrate into the mind, that the
foolish whims cannot easily reign for whole days and
hours together,—the common sign of ill-breeding
among low, disreputable people when they are alone,
or do not find it necessary to control themselves.
We know how very wise and careful mothers are
on their guard against allowing their children to be long
out of their sight. We know also that they are right.
Our own experience tells us that even in later boyhood,
we find pupils peevish and absent-minded, if not rough
and spoilt, when they have been a week away from us.
Our eyes and ears show us, that those, who in our
society enjoy orderly, happy activity, very soon plunge
into wild excitement in which they do not even know
themselves, or sink into indolence from which they
know not how to escape, if they remain too long with-
out supervision. “In that house,” people often say to
us, “the boy is not the same as he is here.” We know
also, it is true, that youths who for a time have led
a wild life are wont to return to a better mind, and
76 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

then to come back to their own higher resolutions, but
as a rule only in those cases when something better
has gone before of which they can bethink themselves;
somewhat like depraved nations, who, if they rise again
to anything nobler, seek for support in historical
memories, but know not how to save themselves, if
these, unhappily often broken reeds, are not strong
enough to bear them. Finally, we know also to what
a serious extent perversity will reappear, if developed
in children before the beginning of a careful education.

What, then, is this perversity? Presentations, no
doubt, but not merely presentations. Such, according to
the laws of the psychological mechanism, would admit
of being driven out by other presentations. Besides
this, the same objects are presented to many at the
same time, the same examples stand before many eyes,
and the opportunity of taking advantage of them is
often exactly the same for several brothers of nearly
the same age: still they act differently. Under such
circumstances feelings and longings would also be the
same, in so far as they arose in and out of the pre-
sentation masses, if some strong reason for difference
had not been present. The reason attaches to the
individual: it lies in his organism. With the latter
it varies sometimes in the course of years,—the youth
laughs where the boy wept, the man remains cold
where the youth was touched. Yet for the most part
we may still recognize the boy in the man.

A system of emotions is bestowed with the organism
which is possible in it. The course of years affords
opportunities for the pessible emotions to become real
LETTER X. 77

ones! Good education delays the development of the
greater number. Riper age lessens, especially in the
male sex, these original possibilities, because the
different organic systems attain greater independence.
If now thorough mental culture is added, the circle
of thought lends its opposition to the inner tumult, and

that is attained which, in a narrower moral sense, we .

call freedom of the Will. If that is lacking, a Will
indeed makes its appearance, but only that which has
its seat in the circle of the earlier roused emotions.

1 That is, the course of Time brings opportunities for awakening
the dormant emotions.

‘The emotions are states of mind in which the presentations are
considerably removed from a state of equilibrium; the stirring
(ristig) emotions bring a greater amount of presentation power
into consciousness than can exist there, whereas the melting emotions
(i.e. paralyzing to activity) force a larger amount out of consciousness
than ought to be thus expelled, considering the nature of the existing
presentations. ...

“Hence it follows that all emotions are so transitory. The mental
states must again approach equilibrium, in accordance with the
commonest laws of the psychological mechanism, as soon as the
intensity of the presentations becomes sufficiently strong to overcome
the causes arousing the emotion.

‘« Further, this explains the physical fatigue caused by all emotions,
as soon generally as a connection is set up between the mental states
and the organism. For we must consider the force, which, on the
one hand, is exercised by an abnormally increased sum of arrest (in
the case of the stirring emotions) ; and, on the other, by a number of
presentations which are on, or near to, the mechanical threshold
(in the case of the melting emotions) ; the labour, which is imposed
on the organism in its accompanying movements, depends no doubt
on the then increased rapidity in the change of the mental states. . .

‘*As regards Feeling, it does not matter about the number of
presentations in consciousness, but rather on the pressure which the
opposing forces exercise on each other; whereas in emotion the
number is very important as bearing on the state of equilibrium.
Therefore it is erroneous to say that the emotions are stronger
feelings, since the two are to be measured by a different standard.”—
From Hrerzart's Psychology as a Science.
Lerrer XI.

The fallacy of tracing back the Emotions to the Feelings, or of assert-
ing that the Emotions are nothing more than stronger feelings—
Justification of a former statement—‘‘ Emotions make feeling
dull”; for example, a man feels the beauty of, and clearly dis-
tinguishes the difference between, the Moral ideas; the emotion
is aroused of self-praise or self-blame, physical effects begin, nerve
and blood are excited, and the feeling becomes scarcely distinguish-
able from that roused by good or bad news ; hence when tears fall
in showers the cause of weeping may be forgotten.

A good education by delaying the development of many emotions
tends to preserve the fineness of the feelings—Injurious effect
of arousing a new set of emotions, for the sake of opposing those
already present.

lig is a strange thing to write letters to which we get
no answer, and more inconvenient than I first
thought. True, my friend, I shall certainly receive
your answer some time; but I should like to know now
what you say to the foregoing remarks. If you were
merely a pedagogue I would go on writing boldly, but
you are at the same time a zealous friend to Psy-
chology; and you have often enough expressed the
wish that I would myself answer many things which
have been said against my Psychology, whilst my
opinion is that you could undertake that in many
respects with more success than J. It even now
occurs to me that many could not reconcile themselves

to my distinction between emotions and feelings. I
78
LETTER XI. 79

could almost entrust it to you to defend me in this
matter, but I fear you will accuse me of having made
it still more difficult, just through the foregoing
remarks. What is there said of the emotions will
by some be interpreted of the feelings, and since it
manifestly also holds good of the emotions, we shall
for that very reason be reminded by others of the old
proposition: “Emotions are nothing more than stronger
feelings.”! Is this not true?

Do not hope now that I am about to withdraw my
request. Just in such matters, which do not exactly

1 Herbart’s use of the words emotion and feeling requires explanation.
Ufer writes thus:

‘*Presentations are the primary states or conditions of the soul,
and can in turn have their own (secondary) conditions, The latter
divide into two groups, viz., the feelings and the desires. . . .

‘“A mother has promised to take her two children to the fair.
Long in advance they picture to themselves, upon the basis of
previously acquired ideas, all the glories that await them. The
looked-for day arrives; they think of nothing else, forget eating and
drinking, always busy with those concepts that have reference to the
fair, while all others have sunk. Shortly before the appointed hour
one of the children is naughty, and his mother says, ‘Now you must
stay at home.’ Then arises a severe struggle within the child.
Those ideas that have previously been rising are so lively that they
cannot at once sink below the threshold of consciousness (be forgotten),
while new ideas not at all reconcilable with the former, (prohibition),
appear with full force. Thus the rising of concepts is arrested, and
the result of check is a feeling of pain, which relieves itself by
weeping. Now the sister intercedes for the offender, and the mother
says, ‘For this once I will let it pass; come, let me dress you.’
Now the previously arrested concepts fly up into consciousness, as if
by a suddenly released spring, because arrest has disappeared, and
the child laughs out, while the tears still stand in his eyes. A feel-
ing is therefore the becoming aware of an arrest or promotion of those
ideas, which at the time predominate in consciousness. Arrest pro-
duces a feeling of pain; promotion a feeling of pleasure. If feelings
80 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

call for calculation, I depend upon you and your logic.
If you will help me out with it, it is well; if you will
not, that is as much as to say you do not consider it
necessary, and then for aught I care, too, each man
can keep his own opinion. For really I do not at all
see that I am bound to correct the opinions of others,
when I have already long ago offered for public use the
scientific means of assistance which I am wont to make
use of myself.

Meanwhile, although I do not at all wish to inter-
polate here a chapter on Psychology, I find a propo-
sition amongst my papers which I had really destined
for another place, but which may reasonably serve
here, too, to remove every appearance of confusion
from my former letters. The sentence reads thus:
“Emotions make feeling dull.”!

of pain and pleasure follow each other so rapidly that they cannot be
kept apart we speak of mixed feelings, fluctuations of feeling... .

“¢ Feelings are distinguished from sensations in that the former bring
into our consciousness conditions of the soul, the latter conditions of
the body; again, sensations are primary, feelings, secondary soul-
states. Feeling is not a separate, independent faculty of the soul, but
only a consequence of the mutual interaction of ideas.”—Jntroduction
to Herbart, by C. Uren, translated by J. C. ZiInsER, pp. 26, 27.

1 “Emotion dulls feeling.” For the raison d’étre of the tears or
laughter is lost as soon as the physical emotion, which is the same
whatever be its cause, gets the upper hand. Hence the child forgets
the cause of his tears as soon as the occasion for weeping is past.—
Aphorisms on Psychology.

“After the emotions, (transitory variations from the condition of
equanimity), have been separated from the passions (rooted desires),
a prevailing opinion has arisen that the emotions are nothing but
stronger feelings. But there are very strong enduring feelings which
have grown into the deepest recesses in the foundation of human
character (e.g., adherence to our own people and to the fatherland),
LETTER XI. 81

For you, my dear friend, the proposition is no riddle.
You know as accurately as I do myself the different
moral ideas. What has kept the distinctions between
these ideas so long hidden? The similarity of the
emotion which arises, when, after any of the ideas,—
no matter which,—each man praises or blames himself.
An evil conscience gives pain, and in this pain we do
not notice its origin, any more than one who feels a
sting notices whether a thorn or a needle pricked him.
Therefore I assert that the feeling has become dulled.
But was it then originally just as dull? If we think
of the idea of Benevolence we feel its beauty; if
instead of this, we form a conception of the idea of
Right we feel its rigour. Now are these two feelings of
the same kind? Certainly not. Only when they mingle

with which the most complete equanimity exists, so long as nothing
of an opposite nature which may disturb them appears, The moment
of danger to one’s own, or to the fatherland, may arouse emotion,
but this emotion is widely different from feeling itself. In the same
way a man may possess a strong and lasting feeling of honour with-
out being in a condition of emotion fromit... .

“Variations from equanimity may occur from two causes—either
there is too much or too little present in consciousness, To the latter
class belong mental shock, sadness, fear; to the former, joy and
anger. The emotions are not merely a psychological but also a
physiological subject, for they act upon the body with remarkable,
often dangerous power, and by this means, in reverse order, make
the mind dependent upon the body, partly from the continuance
of the bodily condition, (which does not cease so quickly as would
the mental state by itself), partly from the tendency of the body
to yield to emotion. Thus courage and timidity are very often
dependent upon health and sickness. It is a remarkable circumstance
that different bodily conditions belong to different emotions. For
example, shame drives the blood to the cheeks, fear makes one pale,
anger and despair increase the strength of the muscles, etc.”—
Herpart, 4 Text-book in Psychology.

F
82 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION,

with the feeling of self-praise or blame, which is by
no means necessarily connected, do their distinct
characteristics generally begin to disappear; but when
the emotion comes in, when the man becomes hot and
cold in self-examination, then nerve and blood are
excited, and what he now feels, he scarcely dis-
tinguishes from the warmth or chill aroused through
joyful or sad news. Hence Eudemonism might even
be confused with Morality ; discrimination of the very
foundations of all Morality would then be completely
out of the question?

Do you wish me to spend any more words over such
things ?

It is better for us to apply the proposition educa-
tionally. Previously we noticed that it was the
benefit conferred by good education to delay the
development of many emotions. This appears in a
new light if we add to it that the feelings run a risk
of being neither ennobled, distinguished, nor purified
through the emotions, but of being drawn down into
the common mass. You, as esthetic critic, certainly
do not approve of the so-called play of emotion, and
why not? I suppose for the reason that when tears
fall in showers, very soon nobody remembers the cause
of the weeping; much as in the quarrels of the philo-

’ Eudemonism is that system of Ethics which takes Pleasure as the
ultimate end of all truly rational action. Since Herbart bases all
Morality on the sthetic judgments, he would naturally regard as
disastrous, any doctrine which confuses the emotions of pleasure and
pain which may accompany those judgments, with the actual intuitions
themselves as to the Right and the Beautiful.—See Introduction,
pp. xxxvi., xxxviii,
LETTER XI. 83

sophical schools when the questions at issue are set
on one side and gradually forgotten! Would you
approve any the more of the educational play of
emotion? In this way, I think, the mistaken idea
is already opportunely corrected, that it might be
expedient to struggle with emotions by setting up
others of an opposed kind;? however certain conditions
might alter the case. Still it is not. necessary to say
anything about it here.

1 The fault of the schoolmen was that in their keen interest in
the means for the attainment of truth the end of the dialectic was
forgotten, as Bacon says of them: ‘‘The wit and mind of man, if it
work upon matter, which is the contemplation of the creatures of
God, worketh according to the stuff, and is limited thereby ; but if it
work upon itself, as the spider worketh his web, then it is endless,
and brings forth indeed cobwebs of learning, admirable for the fine-
ness of thread and work, but of no substance or profit.”

2 Because emotion of any kind produces physical effects, which
lessen the possibility of discriminating between the different kinds
of feeling.
Letrrer XII.

Anger and fear in animals physiologically and psychologically con-
sidered—The dog, at the sight of an unfamiliar object in his own
home, is angry and barks ; the cat is frightened and runs away—
Fear drives the blood inward, anger outward—Objection to the
physiological statement that when the blood is suffered to rush
inward there is fear, and when the heart can resist the pressure,
anger arises ;—the dog, away from familiar surroundings, often
shows fear, i.¢., the emotion is governed by the presentations—
Reason for these phenomena: When the existing presentations
are repulsed the life-energy dwindles, and the blood flows into the
large capillaries; then the disturbed organism re-acts on the
mind, fear is there before anger can develop; since the dog’s
vascular system is more independent than the cat’s, it re-acts
better against the first shock—Observation of the first emotions
in children—Importance of the independent action of the brain
and capillary system.

INCE we are still standing on the boundary be-
tween physiology and psychology, it is a fitting
place to glance at animals and to observe the special
differences in the first emotion, manifested by our two
most ordinary domestic animals, when anything new
comes into their accustomed sphere. The cat is
frightened and runs away, the dog is angry and
barks. But after a little while this distinction dis-
appears,—they only betray their curiosity, the one at
a distance, the other near and boldly.
Generally speaking, to be sure, fear of human beings

rules in all animals, in so far as they are not excited
84
LETTER XII. 85

either by injury or hunger. Even the dog is known
to become frightened as soon as he finds himself
outside the precincts which he regards as his own,
especially in the midst of many strangers. Thus the
anger which he displays so clearly to the new comer,
on his own ground, is the exception; fear is the rule.
Since, however, the exception is common to the whole
race of dogs, it must be founded in the organism of
the species.

Both emotions show the connection between nerves
and capillaries. Fear drives the blood inward, anger
outward.

What would you think if we inverted the state-
ment and said thus: When the blood is suffered
to rush inward there is fear, but when the heart
is powerful enough to resist the pressure anger
arises? Would that perhaps be more correct? At
least it would be so from the standpoint of the
physiologists, who derive the mind from the body.
But the dog whilst he wanders about at a distance
from home takes his heart with him; only his brave
heart remains in the house. He knows where he
is, and the emotion is governed by this knowledge.
Thus from the organism we cannot get the explana-
tion, just as little as we could bring the matter to a
conclusion without it. First, the dog is disturbed in
his familiar circle of presentations, and it is this very
circle which furnishes the first opposition against the
unwelcome disturber, so long as the sight of present
surroundings serves as a support (ve. if the dog is at
home). Thus the Turgor vitalis also maintains itself—
86 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

it even increases and presses forward violently. But
when the existing presentations allow themselves to be
repulsed, then the life-energy also dwindles, and the
blood runs away into the large capillaries, as into mere
reservoirs, whilst its special use, that is, nourishment, is
arrested. This holds good in the opposite case. If the
capillary system is weak and not sufficiently indepen-
dent, as in the case of the strongest man after loss of
blood and humours, as in children, and often in women,
then blood and nerves succumb to the first shock which
the presentations receive and transmit. And- now
follows immediately the second act of the emotion;
the disturbed organism re-acts, checking the mind;
fear is already there before anger is able to develop.
If now the largest cat will run sooner than the smallest
dog, we shall undoubtedly conclude that the dog
possesses more independence of the vascular system;
consequently, he can endure and afterwards re-act
better against the first shock, which his circle of
presentations, and therefore also nerves and blood
must suffer at the sight of the foreign object. In
the cat the capillary system suffers, and also involves
in this suffering the nerves and the circle of pre-
sentations. However, all cats do not run equally
far, many an one turns round soon and looks expec-
tant as if to see what will happen next, as a sign
that even then the presentations are recovering their
tension,

Fiat applicatio! It is of great importance to observe
the first emotion of children at the appearance of a
new object; but neither fear nor anger are welcome.
LETTER XII. 87

Brain and capillary system should, in the human race,
depend on each other as little as possible.

Only let us not forget that anger does not arise in
the dog until a purely psychical process has preceded
it and sufficiently developed. He had first to get
familiar with his own ground, his master, and his
master’s friends; indeed, he had to learn to actually
shut off this circle first by itself that he might
recognize strangers. Quite young dogs do not show
anger, and very clever dogs, which after their fashion
know the world, are less excited than the little ones
which have not left the chimney corner far behind.

This letter I shall be obliged to send to you in
manuscript, in order that those to whom psychology
means the same as anthropology may not get to see
it. In order, moreover, that those solemn pedagogues
may not be shocked thereat, who are continually
declaiming in lofty phrases about the dignity of man-
kind, whilst their pupils give them the slip.. We will
see; if I do not find it necessary to refer to what is
said here I will take the letter out of this collection.

1 The discussion of Fear and Anger is continued on p. 107.
LETTER XIII.

Fear of the unknown in children—Differences in perception traced
back to differences in emotion—Transition to the psychical side of
the discussion—Physiological data now considered, especially
as regards hindrances, which affect the psychical mechanism
—Hitherto inadequate investigation of the connection between
the different organs—The two periods of an emotion, (i.) accelera-
tion of the one system through the other; (ii.) reaction of that
which was accelerated ; a consideration of this as regards sensi-
bility, irritability, and vegetation leads to inferences respecting
the great variety of the emotions— The more perfect the develop-
ment of the organism, the less will be seen of emotion in the
educational sphere—Hindrance to the psychical mechanism, some-
times even pain, produced by the reaction of the body against
mental activity.

hier former letter may stand, but the application
you will soon find out for yourself.

It cannot have escaped your notice that all children,
boys and youths, are not alike in the way they receive
any new object which presents itself. Rather are there
many differences in this respect, in which we may
notice traces of emotion, not violent indeed, but still of
considerable influence. For the sake of clearness I
might first refer here to the weeping of little children
as soon as they are left alone, even for a short time in
a strange place; or to the fear of being in the dark,
which is felt even by some adults. Here you will

immediately think of the arrest which the existing
88
LETTER XIII. 89

force of the presentation must suffer, if the mind
receives a general impression which is unfamiliar. We
should ourselves feel a similar arrest, if in our travels
we came into regions where everything looked different
from what it did at home, though even world-wide
travellers rarely, if ever, find places which do not,
generally speaking, show, at least, some similarity to
familiar objects. But such examples lie too far off our
present consideration. It is more necessary to notice
that the curiosity, which we generally see in children
when anything new presents itself, is in no way com-
mon, and is least of all the first emotion which the
strange object, as such, is apt to arouse.

Many a time timidity is noticeable when we hoped
for curiosity ; often aversion, when we wished to arouse
attention. And not seldom the boy ignores that which
we have set for him to observe as a thing which in
no way concerns him, and about which it is not neces-
sary that he should trouble himself. The response
of the children may make instruction very easy in
lesson-time, but because it is so often lacking we
get commands, anger, and threatening. We seek to
improve our method of teaching, and then we stumble
over an earlier and similar difficulty. Instruction, we
say, ought to be combined with the known in experi-
ence and environment; yes, if only the children
fully profited by all their opportunities for ex-
perience. But response has been lacking for a long
time; only the clever ones perceived and heard; the
others let the things pass by them without noticing.
You see, my dear friend, that details here le hidden
90 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

which it must be of great interest to bring to light.
The most trivial differences of the emotion, which,
if it were magnified a hundred or thousand-fold, could
only then be discernible enough to be called fear
or anger, may succeed in spoiling the mental grasp on
the one hand of designed instruction, and on the other
of the commonest objects of experience. These
emotions, when they occur, have no doubt physical
causes; but it will be seen that even the rude indiffer-
ence itself, which is more often noticeable, is to be
explained physiologically.

We now approach a point from which we must
return definitely to individual, psychological investiga-
tions. Physiology must thus retire into the back-
ground, that we may consider it under the quite
general concept of a hindrance, which indeed seldom
necessitates complete inaction, or absolutely cross
action, of the psychological mechanism, (not to speak
of sleep or insanity), but which all the same retards
it and changes its rhythm. But in order to trace the
manifold consequences which may arise therefrom, it
is necessary to have before our eyes the psychical pro-
cesses themselves; for in them is found that diversity
and variety, the character of which is changed by
means of the hindrance. The immediately preceding
pages already introduced this discussion. Before I
explain it further, I must notice the gap which un-
avoidably remains.

The connection of the different parts of the brain
with each other, with the spinal cord, and the
sympathetic nerve system; further, the connection
LETTER XIII 91

between all of these and the capillaries; and, lastly,
the connection of vegetation with sensibility and
irritability has, up to this time, been investigated far
too little by physiologists for the variety of the
emotions according to their real causes to be clear.
But the general concept of emotion, already mentioned
above, according to which it always breaks into two
periods,—first, the acceleration of the one system
through the other, and, second, the reaction of that
which was accelerated, whereby that which before
caused the acceleration now becomes passive,—this
conception, I say, applied to the different organs
which belong to sensibility, irritability, and vegeta-
tion, leads one to expect that the variety of the
emotions must be extraordinarily great. On the
other hand, the more perfectly the human, and
especially the male organism develops, the less is
to be seen of all these emotions in the sphere of
educational observation, and this, too, as early as the
later years of boyhood and the beginning of youth;
hence we lose little if we cannot accurately distinguish
the reactions of the liver, the lungs, the stomach, and
so on. It matters little whence the hindrance comes
which changes the rhythm of the psychological mechan-
ism; only the effects which it produces, whereby it
puts difficulties in the path of education, are of interest
to us. Only one more remark by way of preface:
it is that the reaction of the body against mental
activity is not always limited to mere hindrance, but
that sometimes positive physical suffering ensues.
Study, then, produces pain; indeed, I have known
92 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

cases when it caused convulsions, which, by their
frequent repetition, at last. prohibited mental exertion,
True, in other cases the pain is sometimes overcome;
much more often valuable time is lost to education,
until the nerves become sufficiently strong to serve the
mind better.
Srction C.

PSYCHOLOGICAL DIFFERENCES.

Letrer XIV.

Concept of a physiological hindrance—That it is not absolutely
rigid, but that while hindering presentations, is also liable to be
checked by them—Concept of free space: A presentation suddenly
free from arrest, only gradually and according to a mathematically
defined law fills the free space allotted to it—Example: (1) Let
B=presentation now sleeping which is to be aroused—(2) (a) and
(8)=presentations in consciousness—(3) A new presentation (c)
enters, arresting (a) and (8), and rousing B—(4) A certain amount
of B=(y) awakes in time r—(5) (y) is proportionate in size to the
free space X, obtained by B when the pressure of (a) and (8)
ceased—(6) Suppose the existence of a physiological hindrance P,
with which (a) and (8) have maintained a sort of equilibrium ; as
(a) and (8) decrease, P will increase, since it was not in equilibrium
with B—(7) With the entrance of (c), (a) and (8) sink, but instead
of (y) becoming prominent P rises, lessening the representing
power ; all depends now on the equilibrium established between P
and (a), (8), (c)—(8) If (¢) is presented in continuous perception, it
also will lose energy through the pressure P—If (c) turns out
smaller through P, (a) and (8) will suffer less arrest, and the
reproduction of B fares still worse ; therefore the state of (a) and
(8) in consciousness will suffer little change, except for the dulling
of the mind by the growth of P—(9) If (c) represents a whole
series of new perceptions, the same will be repeated ; example of
this in the teaching of sleepy or ill-humoured children.

dD you wish to turn immediately to the field of
empirical psychology already touched upon (IX.),

and review one after another the so-called faculties of
93
94 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

the soul? I think that allusion to the subject is quite
sufficient to prevent at least our feeling the want
of a brief sketch of all that concerns our discussion.
You, my friend, would not thank me if I merely
sketched out lines in a field of thought, wherein every
detail requires close attention. Such logical arts
have deceived people long enough with the empty
appearance of knowledge; we leave it to those who are
not disposed to earnest investigation. Let us rather
make use of the preparatory work already accom |
plished. Let us leave higher things alone, until, as
far as our present knowledge serves, we have inves-
tigated, on behalf of education, those lower things
on which the higher depend. Let us accordingly put —
now on one side all that has reference to general
concepts, judgment, language, reflection, co-operation of
several presentation masses, and finally self-conscious-
ness, for we cannot say anything definite, from an
educational point of view, about any of these till the
elementary points have been discussed.

You are doubtless expecting that I should bring
under consideration the structure of the presentation
series? Soon, but even this not immediately. There
is something earlier to be considered which is con-
nected with the last letter.

Not only the indirect reproduction whereon the
construction of the series depends, but even that which
is direct calls forth observations which we ought not
to pass over.

First, I beg you to recall in psychology the concept
of a physiological hindrance. You know that such,
LETTER XIV. 95

at least in health, should not be thought of as rigid or
incapable of any yielding, but that while it hinders the
presentations, it is on the other hand liable to be
checked by them. Otherwise sleep, the best known
phenomenon which arises from such physiological
hindrance, could never be overcome.! A great noise,
however, strong light, or any powerful sense impression,
is able to rouse us even from the deepest sleep. That
is to say, it depends in such a case on the relation
which exists between the energy of the representing
power and the physiological check.

This being pre-supposed, let us, from the calculation
concerning direct reproduction, consider specially the
concept of free space. Suppose a presentation should
be suddenly free from all arrest, then the free space
would be as extensive as the whole hitherto arrested
amount of this presentation; but, nevertheless, it
would not suddenly change its arrested condition into
one which is not arrested ; rather would it only gradu-
ally approach the unchecked condition, accordingly to
a mathematically-defined law, or as we might even
express it, it would only gradually fill the free space
allotted to it.

For the sake of clearness, I will now mention the
single points which are of importance in direct repro-
duction; and that you may more easily compare it

1 This is a reference to the important fact that mind can and
frequently does triumph over the most serious physical hindrances,
For example, fainting can in many cases be overcome by the exercise
of self-control, and patriotism has borne many a soldier through
physical suffering of a most paralyzing kind.
96 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

with the “ Psychology,” I will use the same terms here
that I did there.1 Thus—

1. There is an earlier presentation B, which at the
present moment is to be again aroused. For we
generally express it thus, as if the presentation were
asleep; and, moreover, this analogy of sleep is quite
correct; only with the further restriction, that when we
sleep, all our presentations are arrested for physiological

1 This somewhat difficult letter is fully illustrated and explained
by Letter XV.; but a simple example may make the case here
considered clearer.

1, Let B represent the concept of Mary Queen of Scots, which you
desire to arouse in the minds of some children by means of the similar
presentation (c), which in this case represents the question, Who was
Elizabeth’s great Scotch rival ?

2. Let (a) and (8) represent the irrelevant thoughts at present in
the minds of the children ; in this case, suppose (a) to stand for the
gay dress of a particular child and, (8) a noisy wind outside.

3. The words, ‘‘ Elizabeth’s rival,” arrest the irrelevant thoughts,
and so leave free space for the concept ‘‘ Mary Queen of Scots” to
rise.

4. Parts of this concept (7), in time (7), gradually come into con-
sciousness. (For example, Mary's name, her beauty, her ability, etc.)

5. This concept proceeds to fill the free space (X) left by the with-
drawal of the irrelevant thoughts.

6. Suppose now the presence of a physiological hindrance P, i.e.,
in this case the children are already weary through a previous lesson
having been continued too long. Their weariness had been in a state
of equilibrium with the irrelevant thoughts, but not with the concept
of Mary Queen of Scots, which had been asleep.

7. When (c) enters, 7.e., when the words are uttered, ‘‘ Elizabeth’s
rival,” the irrelevant thoughts are arrested, but the children become
again conscious of their own weariness, which had been to some extent
checked by (a) and (8), and the representing power is dulled.

8. The reproducing presentation (c) (Elizabeth’s rival) also suffers
from the physiological hindrance, therefore the irrelevant thoughts
undergo less arrest. The mental state changes but little, z.¢., the
children are listless, and fail to attend.
LETTER XIV. 97

reasons, but if we are perfectly awake, the cause why
the presentation B sleeps, is not any hindrance, which
can be explained on physiological grounds, but simply
the pressure of other presentations.

2. Whilst it sleeps some other presentations must
be awake, or, which comes to the same thing, must
be present in consciousness, the pressure of which
must also be the cause why the former, and with it
also countless others, sleep. Let (a) and (8) denote
the presentations now awake, although there may be
a number of them. As a dramatic poet, if he requires
a character which belongs to an indefinite number of
persons, often allows such to be represented by two
individuals, so here two presentations appear in the
discussion as (a) and (8), because these are sufficient
to discover the general laws which we require to begin
with.

3. So long now as (a) and (8) are awake B must
sleep. Consequently, on the other hand, in order that
B may be aroused (a) and (8) must be arrested.
This happens most simply and easily, if a new pre-
sentation enters by perception or sense impression,
which works against (a) and (8), but not at the same
time against B; for in the latter case B also, so far
as it encountered this opposition, would obtain no free
space. So, briefly, we assume: a new presentation (c)
is given, which (c), however, is similar to B; so that
if B were the sensation of sweetness, then would (c)
also be sweetness; but if B were green, then (c)
would be green. Or, if you would rather, let B be
the presentation of a well-known person; if the

G
98 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

latter, of whom we were not just then thinking, met
us, then the new observation of this person would
be the above-mentioned (c).

4, Now awakes the analogous presentation B. But
not wholly or completely. Only a certain amount (y),
which is a part of B, (or what may be for the present
considered as such, although it is really a stage in
the presentation), becomes prominent in the time 7,
so that with more time, if 7 increases, (y) also will
increase.

5. This (y) adjusts itself as regards the size, which
it has at any moment, very much in accordance with
the free space, which was granted to B. And what
is this free space already referred to, which is now to
be more accurately defined? Nothing but the possi-
bility that B will be able to raise, and, as it were, re-
cover itself, just in so far as the pressure from (a) and
(@) ceases. Now call the free space XY. This X is
just as great as the free space taken from (a)
and (8) by (ce), and pressed out of consciousness by it.
To be sure you have read it all, my dear friend, in
my psychology in a dozen lines; therefore pardon my
diffuseness, which is not intended for you, and yet
may some time be useful. I am sure you understand
what I mean!

6. Up to this there has been no mention of
physiological hindrance. Now we will introduce such
an one and call it P. The above-mentioned hypothesis
now holds good of this pressure P. That is, whatever
may be the origin of this pressure, immediately in the
nerves, and earlier perhaps in the blood, or in vegeta-
LETTER XIV. 99

tion,—action and counter-action must already have
taken place between body and mind, and even a sort
of equilibrium between the two, if not fully present,
is yet so far set up as to be sure to make its
appearance. Thus the pressure P will become
greater if (a) and (8) are smaller; or if (a) and
(8) become greater, then P becomes smaller. For you
will remember that by (a) and (@) we designated that
force of representation which is just now, either wholly
or in part, present in consciousness. With this the
physical condition has placed, or ought to have placed,
itself in equilibrium; though not perhaps with B, which
was asleep or was on the statical threshold.

7. What happens then when (c) comes in as well?
(a) and (8) suffer from it: they sink in consciousness.
The power which worked against P is weakened. Thus
instead of the result being that (y) should come
into prominence, while B obtains free space, P rises,
which betokens generally a lessening of the repre-
senting power. It is now no longer true that the
free space for B is as great as that caused by the sub-
sidence of (a) and (8) collectively ; but it still depends
on what sort of equilibrium P will enter into with (a),
(@), and (c) taken together,

8. But if, as is usually the case, the presentation (c)
is not presented once for all, but in continuous percep-
tion, it will itself lose energy through the pressure P.
For every presentation which arises from progressive
feeling, or perceiving, loses something continuously
through the arrest to which it is subjected from the
beginning. The consequences which follow therefrom
100 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

are evident. Through (c), (a) and (8) were to be
arrested, and through this arrest free space was to
be procured for B. Now if (c) turns out smaller
through the pressure P, then (a) and (8) suffer less
arrest. That is a new reason why the reproduction of
B fares worse. And since the former mental state
depended on (a) and (8) being in consciousness, this
state will now undergo but little change: it remains
much as of old, and the most noticeable difference
consists in the dulling of the mind, which we have
before explained by the growth of P,

9. If now a whole series of new perceptions is
furnished, be it through instruction, or through
experience and environment, there is always a repe-
tition of what has been just described. The dulling
of the mind increases; reproduction fares badly; the
old dream is still dreamed, or but little disturbed.
Do you not at once recognize in this what has very
often happened to you and me, with sleepy, wearied,
or, for some cause or other, ill-humoured children ?
Letter XV.

Application to Instruction—Let (c) be the new instruction; B the
supply of previous knowledge with which it is to be connected (i.¢.,
the apperceiving factor) ; (a) and (8) the pupil’s irrelevant thoughts
—Let P be the pressure on some presentations connected with a
certain definite emotion—Application of this (i.) to the difficulty
of changing an occupation to which a pupil has become accus-
tomed ; (ii.) to the re-appearance of discontent when a burdensome
study has been altered ; (iii.) to the dissatisfaction of a nation
which has overthrown an oppressive government; (iv.) to any
remedy which fails to touch a complex evil; (v.) to diseased
physical conditions, since comparative health is an equilibrium of
many kinds of evils—The case of a youth of bad propensities ;
the difficulty of correcting them—Defects in the older educational
works (¢.g., Campe’s writings), due in many cases to the holding
of the theory of soul faculties.

OW for certain addenda. It will be no trouble

to you to substitute your instruction for the
above-mentioned (c), the supply of earlier knowledge,
with which it is to be connected, for B, and the
irrelevant thoughts in the minds of the pupils for (a)
and (8), which will appear every now and then, as
soon as instruction makes a pause, and which we
nearly always find with children, at least at the
beginning of lessons. But is this P always a
general negation to the process of presentation ?
That is a question, and by a change in this, the
signification of P may be made still wider.

Let P now be a partial pressure, not on all presen-
101
102 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

tations generally, but on such masses of presentations
as are calculated to arouse a certain definite emotion,
You have before you, for instance, a pupil who learns
grammar with painstaking diligence. His disinclina-
tion has already placed itself in equilibrium with
this occupation, which carries with it its own peculiar
emotion. You wish now to enliven him with history
or poetry; you seek to arouse his interest in these
new subjects by choosing out and presenting them
in a manner, as far as possible, adapted to his life,
his associations, and his own experience. What
happens? Since you remove him for the present
from his accustomed occupation, apathy arises,—just
that uncomfortable feeling which hitherto was gener-
ally held in check by his diligence over grammar.
The gentle tones which you use fail to appeal to him;
no response greets you from his inner world, and at
last it is found that grammar has a stronger hold
than you thought. Pursued indeed without love,
it is still found endurable. On the other hand,
what you offer wins neither thanks nor success,

Shall we invert the example? Someone has learnt
history without the goodwill of the Muses; now he
is told to put the history on one side. Grammar
is set for the study hours, which before were
devoted to history. We think a burden is removed;
but the former discontent only comes out more
prominently, because the burdensome history is no
longer there to check it. We hoped to be able to
put one study in the place of the other, but the
grammar is not acceptable. It remains a stranger,
LETTER XV. 103

nothing comes to meet it, and the earlier occupation
is not so easily dismissed as would appear.

Is there not indeed something similar to this in
the strange conduct of a people, who have just thrown
off a government with which they were discontented,
and who now, when another has come in its place,
instead of attaching themselves to the new ruler,
give way still more to discontent? Indeed, I much fear
that the principle under consideration reaches much
further than might have been thought at first sight.
He who is suffering from some indisposition seldom
notices that it is a combination of many elements,
which together enter into equilibrium; he hopes by
some remedy to arouse again the earlier healthy life.
If now this remedy only touches a part of the complex
evil, then the increased activities of restored health are
not the first to come into prominence; rather does the
other part of the sickness increase, and by gradually
gaining ground it makes the application of the remedy
of no effect, even as regards that part of the indisposi-
tion which it touches.

The temptation is great to apply what I have
just said to disease, especially as this depends at
least as much upon inner conditions as upon outer.
We are not obliged here to think of definite diseases
to which names are assigned by physicians, although
even these may not be so simple as a single definite
name seems to indicate. But that which we are wont to
call comparative and, consequently, imperfect health, is
certainly not simple; rather is it a condition of equi-
librium among many kinds of evil mutually disguised
104 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

one by the other; of these, according to circumstances,
now one, now another, comes the more into prominence;
but no one is really cured, even though remedies are
applied which might have proved successful in simple
cases.

Meanwhile, we will willingly leave these supple-
mentary remarks, to which here it is not possible to
give greater precision, and we will turn back to the
sphere of education. Have you not yet felt the per-
plexities of a teacher, with children who have been
spoiled? A young man has an inclination for card-
playing and low pleasures; you deny him these. What
happens? Other secret evil inclinations, which through
those diversions were held in check, grow stronger;
the nobler things which you wished to put in their
place, but which indeed should generally come as a
response from within, do not seem to thrive; they
even fail when their existence is due to earlier youth-
ful impressions, which only require to be freed from
hindrances and provided with fresh stimulus. The
new thoughts which you substitute must wither before
even they can be properly received into the existing
thought circle. Hence the result, that very soon card
playing and low pleasures will again be the order of
the day, for the man was not changed from within.

Now I pray you to compare with this the educational
directions which one generally finds in books. The
faults of pupils have received names; against each
fault you find directions for its cure; some volumes
of Campe’s works have often reminded me of the old
medical writings which are full of prescriptions, so
LETTER XV. 105

that we might think we had before us a treasury of
medicines, as valuable as they were safe, and it would
only be a matter of choosing the best among so many
remedies. In this case we may justly complain that the
world of books is quite different from that of reality.
But how is that? Had those teachers really no ex-
perience ?

Oh, yes, they had experience indeed, but they did
not know how to make themselves at home in it. The
faults of the pupils, as subjects of pedagogical re-
flection were, and rightly so, to be explained by
psychology. The psychology was at hand, indeed, if
people sought to set their thoughts in order, or write
a book. But what was at hand? True psychology ?
No, the old doctrine of the soul faculties. Now it
was imagination which was supposed to be diseased,
now understanding, at another time the will, and again
moral reason. The true connection of things could
not be more seriously misrepresented, or collective
experience be made more useless, than in theories in
which even the first concept of the laws of the
psychical mechanism is wanting, and is so completely
wanting that the psychologists of the present day
actually are not yet in a position to grasp it, on
account of the absolute impossibility of combining
it with their accustomed prejudices. And what are
our schoolmen of the present day doing with it?
They are writing archives for philology and education.
Who will grudge such to philology ?
Lerrer XVI.

Hindrance to the perception of what is new; (i.) Fear, which
assumes an appearance of indolence, and is excited by foreign
names, unknown characters, etc. ; (ii.) Anger, appearing in more
vigorous characters, resenting the claims made on attention—
Means of counteracting fear—Patient instruction in childhood,
thus avoiding the dangerous novelty of objects ; a judicious use of
the so-called play system—Importance of strictly continuous work
with dull children; physiological hindrance sometimes to be
overcome by the emotion roused ; benefits of the cane and the
stern tutor—The necessity of curtailing study in cases when the
physiological hindrance proves obstinate.

VERYONE except you, my dear friend, would
now require of me that I should say what the
practical teacher has to do in such difficulties as those
I have mentioned. That is the reason I write letters
to you. You may add to what I have said in my name.
You know that no practical teacher stands alone; that
if help is possible this must be common to all. If
public opinion be led astray by those who are con-
sidered competent, it will work against the teacher
more powerfully than any single evil. Some time ago I
should have again taken up my pen, laid aside a quarter
of a century before, to write on Pedagogics, if I had not
known that for a better education a fundamental
Science of Education was necessary, and that for a
Science of Education psychology was necessary, and
that if the latter at any time prospers, then the science

\ of Pedagogics and practical education will follow as a
! 106
LETTER XVI. 107

natural consequence, provided that beyond everything
we seek them in the family and carry them into
practice. So long as people deceive themselves on
this point no science renders any assistance worth
inentioning.

Let us now turn back again to the point at which
we were considering the first emotion which the new
object can arouse. Fear is universal; anger more
rare. Still, the human organism, if it is healthy, and
if the new impression is sufficiently gentle, protects
itself so effectually against these otherwise natural
emotions, that, in healthy children, curiosity, which
otherwise would follow fear and anger, generally comes
forward quickly enough, so that these emotions cease
to be noticeable, for the time which they require to
develop is excessively short. But we have already
acknowledged, nevertheless, that this curiosity is not
general; for often enough a dull indifference takes its
place, in which the new does not penetrate, and the
old, which is analogous to it, is not properly repro-
duced. The existing state of consciousness changes
but little, almost the only effect being the dulling of
the mind; this, however, passes over quickly if there
is not too much of the new, leaving it so unchanged
that no one could assert any progress had been made.

Now, psychologically we could account for what has
just been described without borrowing from physiology
more than the idea of a hindrance. If, on the other
hand, fear or anger becomes noticeable, we must seek
the explanation in the relation between the nervous
and capillary systems. You will not, however, be
108. APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

inclined to deny that something of all this, even when
striking symptoms are not prominent, does actually
appear in many individuals; that the one thing corre-
sponds with the other, and that the difference of
temperament which we had begun to investigate rests
to a great extent upon it.

In order now to examine details a little more closely,
perhaps you are inclined first to question about fear,
as to whether it often hinders the reception of what is
new.

Naturally I do not here speak of that fear, which in
danger, and threatening evils, arises from the uncer-
tainty about that which may possibly happen. The
teacher who does not know how to deal with such a
reasonable fear, arising from ignorance about things,—
just in the same way as we make a timid horse
approach the objects at which he has shied,—such an
one is too lacking in common shrewdness to derive
any help from theories,

But I have in my mind that secret fear which
assumes an appearance of indolence and laziness in
learning and work, and wherein the mind wanders,
whilst the body still sits quietly before us. Many
are frightened at foreign names, Greek characters,
algebraical symbols, and geometrical figures, who know
how to throw a fair enough cloak over the emotion of
fear, by asking for congenial, intellectual occupations,
just when efforts are being made to cultivate their mind
and taste.?

1 That is, the children do not recognize the efforts which are already
being made to cultivate their mind and taste. Such complain that
LETTER XVI. 109

In vigorous natures instead of this fear, suppressed
anger is aroused. They resent it that claims should be
made on their attention.

Shall I propose an antidote for this fear? Only one
of a radical nature is known to me, and, if used too
late, it turns out far from easy and scarcely practicable :
it is patient instruction, which advances very slowly
in quite early childhood. Women and mothers, who
earnestly endeavour to prepare the way for further
education, generally take the children with marvellous
patience round about the house and garden, and teach
them to read and count. Proceeding in this way we
shall gradually avoid the dangerous novelty of objects,
which, heaped up together, may later produce an
incurable dread of school. On the other hand, when
a teacher appears before an unprepared pupil, with
masses of strange sounding words and symbols, even
the clever feel distress, and with young people who
live amid wealthy surroundings no constraint and no
exhortation is afterwards able to overcome the mental
revulsion.! If ignorant teachers of youth mistake for
really trifling play, without end or connection, the slow,
sometimes apparently playful kind of procedure in very
they do not see ‘‘ the good” in certain lessons, and ask to be allowed
to change them, (such as algebra and geometry for literature and
history), the cause really being that they are afraid of the new
symbols.

1 The danger of arousing fear by the presentation of the new in
teaching, is specially serious on account of its paralysing effect upon
the will. Herbart defines will as ‘‘a desire coupled with the pre-
sumption that it will attain its object.” ‘‘ Whoever says ‘I will,’ has

already conquered for himself the future in thought.” Desire then is
the ‘‘ mere self-inclination to an object, without the assumption that
110 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

early instruction, they give occasion just as much to
false judgments on the so-called play system, as when
the apparent play is raised to an universal method, and
is even applied to such natures as do not require it, to
whom the new is not oppressive or effective in rousing
either fear or anger. Only with those who are much
too excitable from physical, or to us unknown causes,
whom the new rebuffs, (especially if not in any way
made palatable), we must by a slow method of pro-

it will be reached ; its passage into volition ‘‘depends upon insight
into the attainableness of the desired object.”
Fear is only too likely to produce doubt as to our own power to
grapple with the new.
“ Doubt—a blank twilight of the heart—which mars
All sweetest colours in its dimness same ;
A soul-mist through whose rifts familiar stars
Beholding, we misname.”
The same thought is expressed by Robert Browning—
“ He wills, how should he doubt then?”

If this fear and doubt of his own ability become habitual in a
child, all action will be crippled. Hence the importance of first
lessons in any subject, that the pupil should not feel overwhelmed
by the strangeness of the new methods, or discouraged by the thought
of future difficulties. Hence, too, the serious results of setting a
lesson really beyond the strength of the learner, who thus will lose
confidence in the teacher’s knowledge of his pupil’s ability, and will
not attempt tasks which he could really accomplish.

As regards the ethical bearing of the subject, we see a vivid example
in Mephistopheles’ dealings with Faust, where the taunt always was,
“Thou canst not do the right.” This was the meaning probably
of the fatal bond. As Marlowe’s version makes clear, the fallacy lay
in the belief in the validity of the compact. If once the ill-fated man
could have realized that the deed was illegal, that he could repent,
the power would have been there. Hence the evident anxiety of
Lucifer, and the fierce attempts of the spirits to daunt Faustus by
fear ; once let Will step in, and their game was lost. But, as Herbart
strikingly says, ‘‘ Dejection, which becomes habitual, is the consump-
tion of character.”
LETTER XVI. 11]

cedure gradually lead up to what is unfamiliar, after
it has already been skilfully portioned out. The bright,
strong natures, on the other hand, are best won by a
quick method, which places them at once into the
middle of an occupation which soon awakes interest.
Without distinguishing between individuals, however,
no rule is here at all possible.

It is a happy chance if the excitable are not at the
same time dull. When this deplorable quality is added
to the former we shall never make much progress.

With merely dull children, if thoroughly willing, 2.e.,
fearless and not hot tempered, the best results are
attained by strictly continuous work. I have known
such who did not grasp a thing till their cheeks flushed
crimson. The physiological hindrance in such a case
can be overcome by the emotion aroused; hence we
get many examples of the familiar assertion, that the
rod and the cane are the best tutors; a statement, how-
ever, which is not absolutely true, or always to be
followed. But certainly there are very few to whom,
at least sometimes, a strict tutor would not be a real
blessing to teach them to practise self-command. Con-
straint ought not to be quite banished, otherwise many
an one would never realize how much, if need be, he
can stand, and how much to expect of himself

1 The principle here laid down should not be lost sight of in the
argument for and against examinations. Granted that, as intellectual
tests, public examinations may often be very faulty,—have they not
their use in providing discipline to character, and training in self-
command? Certainly there are some who, without them, would
scarcely have realized how much they could stand, or how much,

(and that, too, without physical or mental injury), they could expect
of themselves.
112 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

But what is to be done when the physiological
hindrance proves obstinate? If by steady persistence
it cannot be overcome at all, or perhaps not often, or
not without danger to health, character, and the ex-
ternal relations of life, what else remains to be done
but this, to lessen the mass of new things which are
to find an entrance, and to require from reproduction,
(on which we must count for the sake of association),
only what is easiest and most familiar, renouncing
what is difficult and remote. And what does that
mean? Nothing, I suppose, but to remain as near as
possible to the individual’s original circle of thought,
ae. to reduce the learning. Even in the most onesided
learning, however, the question remains fraught with
danger, whether the obscuring process will decrease or
increase in the course of years. In robust subjects we
may perhaps hope for the former; in the weak, as experi-
ence teaches, the second is only too much to be feared,
and that especially after mental strain.

1 Here the relations in which the children stand to the people with
whom they are associated.
Letter XVII.

The curiosity of children aroused by the struggling forward of the old
in the new—1. Vaulting and Tapering: Examples taken from the
sounding of musical tones—A tone B is to be aroused by a similar
tone (c)—Tones (a) and (8) then in consciousness suffer an arrest,
and other older presentations similar to B also rise. If now instead
of B we take the tone (b), which is very like (c), we shall conclude
that when (c) is sounded not only 2, but a little of (b), and of all the
tone presentations between (6) and (c), will work up into conscious-
ness. We conclude, then, that every presentation directly repro-
ducing itself, brings up others with it, which share in its freedom
from arrest to some extent. But while they are subject to a
growing necessity to again sink, the one (z.e., in this case B),
which is exactly similar to the present perception (c), combines
with the presentation just produced by the perception. Therefore
‘* vaulting” is the rise, ‘‘ tapering,” the sinking of all the neigh-
bouring presentations taken together, leaving the one similar
presentation jutting out sharply ; in this process we see the basis
of children’s curiosity—2. To what extent desire is present in
curiosity—Desire is to be found not in direct reproduction, but
in indirect, when much that is associated rouses expectation and
appears in new connections.

NE thing remains still to be considered, and that
is, the more favourable case,—the curiosity of
children. What a strange craving it is! How can
the new be already an object of desire? It was
formerly said, and with reason, “Ignoti nulla cupido.”
In short, (for I must not detain you with rhetoric),
the new is not the object of the desire, but the old,
which struggles forward in confused expectation, and
requires sense-perception to bring it into order,
113 H
114 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

“What did it look like?” “How was it, and how
did it happen?” so questions curiosity, and children
even ask about myths and fables: “Why did he do
that?” “Why did he not rather set about it thus?”
For the illusion is strong enough in the child to
give life even to the doll, and change the stick into
a horse; more than strong enough then to create
a wistful interest in imaginary characters. If the poet
were not able to make us children again, how could he
rivet our interest in the Epic or the Drama ?

Now I wish you to bear in mind the expressions
“vaulting” and “tapering,” which I shall often have to
use If the words have escaped your memory it is my
own fault, for they do not stand in a favourable position
in my psychology, and we make too little use of the
concepts which they denote. Every direct reproduction
furnishes an opportunity for their use. To show this
I would refer to the former presentation B, which

1 A full explanation of Apperception, including “ Vaulting and
Tapering,” is given in the Introduction, pp. lxiv.—lxx., and should be
read before Letter XVII.

The example given here may be thus summarized: A child has at
some previous time heard the tone B, the presentation of which is at
the present moment sleeping. The note is now struck, producing
a presentation in the child’s mind exactly similar to that which is
sleeping. This new presentation, which Herbart calls (c), reproduces
B and combines with it. But with the arrest of the irrelevant
thoughts (a and 8) other presentations neighbouring to and blending
with B also arise into consciousness, sharing in B’s freedom from arrest,
Such are (6) and the presentations of any tones between (b) and (c).
This rise is called the ‘‘ vaulting.” The ‘‘tapering” consists of the
subsidence of these neighbouring presentations, whilst the only one
which is exactly similar, viz., B, continues to rise, and juts out as
it were clear and distinct.—See Introduction, p. lxix,
LETTER XVII. 115

was aroused, while (a) and (@), existent in conscious-
ness, had to suffer an arrest through (c). We will now
assume that there are other older presentations very
similar to B, and thus also of nearly the same kind
as (c); of these very nearly the same will hold good
as of B—that is, while the arrest becomes less they
can rise, and having the power they make use of it.
If need be, you can take the letters Band (c) for the
names of two musical tones, although I did not origin-
ally intend this, If now for once we write (6) instead
of B, we shall indeed no longer assume, as before, that
(6) is of the same kind as (c), but it will be still very
near it, and you will not long be in doubt, that if you
hear the tone (c), a little of (6), and of all your audible
stock of tone presentations between (0) and (ec) will
work up into consciousness. If that were not so, the
tone (6) would never have received the name c-flat,—
for c-flat means a lowered (c), therefore (c) can be
considered as changed to c-flat. However, since the
tone (0) is by no means the nearest possible one to (c),
but is removed, on the tone scale, to a very appreciable
distance from it, it is a matter of course that every
presentation, which can be considered as a point lying
between (c) and (6), rises up the more easily in pro-
portion as it lies nearer to (c); and that this holds
good just as well for tones between (c) and c-sharp as
for those between (c) and (0). Let us now put the
example on one side. Every presentation, directly
reproducing itself, will have others near, which, with
it, immediately become more or less free from the
arrest which has hitherto acted, and these, in con-
116 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

sequence, begin to rise. But how far can they
succeed? If the tone (c) now actually sounded, the
longer it continued the less you would retain (0) in
consciousness.

If a definite sensation is given continuously, its
neighbours indeed rise, but at the same time there
rises a growing power of arrest, that is to say, a
growing necessity to again sink.! That older presenta-
tion, which is exactly of the same kind as the present
perception, is the only one which does not fall under
the same rule as the rest; it need not again sink, but
as much of it as has arisen, combines without further
difficulty with the presentation just produced by
perception.

Are the words “vaulting” and “tapering” now
clear? Vaulting is the rise, tapering the sinking of

1 To explain Herbart’s usage of the difficult word ‘‘ Hemmungs-
summe,” 7.¢., the sum or collective force of the arrests, it will be
necessary to give a short account of his theory of the nature of
presentations.

Prof. Ward, in his article on Herbart in the Encyclopedia Britannica,
summarizes it thus ;

In his Psychology Herbart rejects altogether the doctrine of
mental faculties, as one refuted by his metaphysics, and tries to
show that all psychical phenomena whatever result from the action
and interaction of elementary ideas or presentations (Vorstellungen).
The soul being one and simple, its separate acts of self-preservation
or primary preservations must be simple too, and its several presenta-
tions must become united together. And this they can do at once
and completely when, as is the case, for example, with the several
attributes of an object, they are not of opposite quality. But other-
wise there ensues a conflict in which the opposed presentations
comport themselves like forces and mutually suppress or obscure
each other. The act of presentation (Vorstellen) then becomes partly
transformed into an effort, and its product, the idea, becomes in the
LETTER XVII. 117

all the neighbouring presentations taken together.
For that which rises, taken collectively, forms, as it
were, the figure of a rising vault; but when sub-
sidence begins, the centre still continues to rise, whilst
round about the neighbouring presentations sink; and
the middle forms, as it were, a point which juts out the
more sharply the longer this process goes on.

It were desirable to have a mathematical statement
of this process, but I have not yet arrived at this
point, and shall the less reach it as there are so many
similar needs, some with far greater claims. For
immediate use, what has been said may quite suffice.

The curiosity of children was our subject. Under such
a general term, so many kinds of things are now in-
cluded all at the same time, that in different cases the
most various considerations of a connected nature may
come in; but it scarcely requires any further explana-

same proportion less and less intense till a position of equilibrium
is reached; and then at length the remainders coalesce. We have
thus a statics and a mechanics of mind, which investigate respectively
the conditions of equilibrium and of movement among presentations.
In the statics two magnitudes have to be determined—(1) the amount
of the suppression or inhibition (Hemmungs-summe), and (2) the
tatio in which this is shared among the opposing presentations. The
first must obviously be as small as possible: thus for two totally
opposed presentations a and 6, of which a is the greater, the inhé-
bendum = 6. For a given degree of opposition this burden will be
shared between the conflicting presentations in the inverse ratio of
their strength. When its remainder after inhibition =o, a presen-
tation is said to be on the threshold of consciousness, for on a small
diminution of the inhibition, the ‘‘effort” will become actual
presentation in the same proportion. Such total exclusion from
consciousness is, however, manifestly impossible with only two pre-
sentations, though with three or a greater number, the residual value
of one may even be negative.”
118 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

tion to show that the already-described vaulting and
tapering may serve as a basis on which to build. If
a gaily-coloured moving object presents itself to a child,
or if a story fascinates a boy, it certainly is not a
question of merely a single point (c), and a single
presentation B, with its neighbours; the tapering also
does not take place in so perfect a fashion, at the point
where it began, as if the perception were stationary
till it were over, but the vaulting begins at every
single point of the object at the same time, and the
points shift every moment while the process is going
on. But such things are self-evident, and it would
be ridiculous wishing to expend or to require any
more words over considerations which belong to
mathematical psychology.

Only one question may occupy us here for a
moment: that is, how far can we recognize in
curiosity a desire, and its satisfaction in the obser-
vation of the new object ?

Nothing need be said here about the folly of those
who imagine a special desire faculty, and a reciprocal
action between the desire faculty and the desired
objects; who do not understand that all desire and
all satisfaction simply take place in the circle of
presentations, in the conditions of which they cause
change.

But this should be mentioned, that the origin of
desire must not be sought in direct reproduction; for
in the mere rise or sinking of the presentations there
is nothing of the feeling which is associated with a
want, and consequently still less of that which is
LETTER XVII. 119

connected with its satisfaction. But very frequently
indirect reproduction combines with the direct. That
is to say, every presentation does not rise merely by
its own force, but is maintained and borne on to the
points which it reaches, by those with which it is
partially blended. Let us pause a moment here.

Previously I have spoken of neighbouring presenta-
tions. In large towns neighbours often do not know
each other at all; then each one acts for himself,
independently of the rest. Such “large town”
conduct I have before described; the neighbours came
of themselves, and then departed without further
delay, when they were sent home again. But if we
turn now to a little town where all know each other,
then the neighbours hold together better, and they feel
it, if one is separated from the rest. So also act the
neighbouring presentations which come forth at the
same time, if they have already blended with each
other.

With curious people not only many kinds of things,
but also much that is associated, struggles out at the
same time. But the subject which satisfies curiosity
rouses first expectation, in that it concedes some points
and neglects others. Then it adds much that is un-
expected and, therefore, really quite new; that is, new
in the connection in which it now appears. Thus it
gives new points of support to the aroused presenta-
tions, and in these stronger associations; while at the
same moment the upward struggle against existing
arrest is promoted; that is to say, curiosity is satisfied,
since the questions wherein it expresses itself, or could
120 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

then express itself, are answered. Certainty instead of
doubt is generally satisfaction. In a narrower sense an
object is said to be satisfying if it comes up to, or even
rises above our expectation; in the latter case it
borders on the esthetic judgment of which we are
not now speaking.
Letrer XVIII.

Necessity of vaulting and tapering in Instruction, since the former
brings about association, and the latter precision, definiteness, and
accuracy ; (i.) The effect on this of the physiological hindrance
is to produce rigidity of mind—Consequent rising of the older
presentations alone, with no adequate vaulting—Example: The
mechanical learning of just that which is strongly impressed :
result, isolated scraps of knowledge; (ii.) Tapering defective:
result, an appearance of philosophy, with little power of criticism ;
(iii.) Comparison of mental rigidity with the Beeotian temperament
—lIn the latter there is lack of sensibility, both to the inner and
outer worlds; in the former there is sensibility to the inner and
outer worlds, but no sufficient movement and response from
within, z.e., the presentation store lacks the power of using its
own elasticity—In the rigid mind the hindrance is working at
the point where presentations struggle up to the threshold of
consciousness ; hence a small hindrance may easily spoil so
weak a force as the beginning of vaulting—In the Beotian the
hindrance has to be strong enough to prevent the sinking of the
sum of arrests among the presentations, hence it is a much rarer
case than that of mere rigidity.

HOULD children be actually required to show
curiosity in confronting everything new which
presents itself, or which we offer to them? Curiosity is
often inopportune, often neither possible nor necessary.
It is often inopportune, only on account of the
circumstances in which we find ourselves; that, is
however, no fault in disposition. But often it does
show a fault, since it reveals evil desires. Yet the

tault does not then lie always in the curiosity as such,
121
122 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

but in the emotion, which has its seat in the older and
now aroused presentations, and its root in the organism.
Therefore we shall blame this, and not the curiosity
itself.

In instruction, curiosity is only possible in its
developed form when sufficient association has been
established among the older presentations ; that is, here,
in the knowledge acquired previously. Then we call it
Interest} although other definitions also apply to this
word. But for successful instruction only that first

1 The comparison which follows between rigid minds and Beotians
can scarcely be fully understood without a deeper knowledge of
HERBART’s Mathematical Psychology than is required for the greater
part of the present work.

The following points may, however, be noted :

1. In the Beotian, or peasant mind, the physiological hindrance
affects the presentations actually in consciousness, and prevents their
blending or influencing each other. The peasant fails to grasp the
relation between the facts he knows. He perceives new things, but
does not understand their significance. His mental world, even as his
outer life, suffers but little change. Winter and summer, cold and
heat, seed-time and harvest, are but pictures of the simple transitions
of his ordinary thoughts. Herbart seems to mean the typical dull
mind.

2. In the case of rigidity the physiological hindrance affects the rise
of presentations into consciousness ; that is, it obstructs the vaulting,
preventing the appearance of the neighbouring presentations which
should accompany the reproduced and similar ones. Hence the com-
parison of clever women with men of evidently deep thought. The
former, Herhart notices, are remarkable for greater versatility and
quick wit. The latter are anything but dull; but possibly their very
habits of concentration, of shutting out all thoughts which even
appear irrelevant, prevent their allowing that free, bright play of the
psychical mechanism on which vaulting often depends.

A very slight cause may easily prevent vaulting for the time, in
even a brilliant mind, whereas really Bceotian dulness is a very
different and more serious matter.
LETTER XVIII. 123

foundation of curiosity is necessary, which we have
symbolically denoted by vaulting and tapering. With-
out this there is something lacking in the union of
the new with previous knowledge, and also in accuracy
of perception. The vaulting brings about association,
whereas in tapering lies precision, sharpness, definite-
ness, and accuracy.

Let us return to that fault of disposition, which,
in contrast to this, we shall find when the hindrance
before discussed, and to be explained on physiological
grounds, stands in our way. We may denote it by the
expression rigidity of the mind.

If the hindrance opposes even simple immediate
reproduction (XIV., XV.) it will still more obstruct
vaulting, which is nothing but reproduction of a
weaker kind, and consequently more easily hindered.
What is the result? Those older presentations which
succeed in rising, (although to a less degree than was
intended), remain almost alone. They have not brought
with them the apparel with which they should be
clothed. They stand there already pointed, and cannot
therefore be made to taper any more; hence the move-
ment is lacking which was expected, and with it the
feeling which would have been appropriate to it. Thus
something is learnt mechanically, that is to say, at each
moment the pupil learns just that thing which the
tutor or experience sufficiently impresses. As it was
indifferently received, it will also be carelessly exposed
to a sinking back out of consciousness. Of everything
thus learnt a small amount gradually becomes fixed ;
this enters into association, and if in the course of time
124 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

the association attains any considerable energy, it then
becomes rigid and admits nothing more that is new.
In this there are different degrees. One succeeds with
difficulty in learning his mother tongue, but a foreign
language is quite out of the question. Another learns
Latin also, but no one must worry him with Greek.
French sounds to him like poor Latin, English like bad
Latin and German. Not without reason to be sure,
but that is no benefit to him who thus deprives himself
of modern languages.

In later years the minds of such people are almost
like bags containing stones, pebbles, or sand, according
as their mechanical industry in youth was great, small,
or non-existent. For the diligent there are many lines
of study, and for the studies various teachers. They
perceive that interconnection which they happen to
find in the sciences, and later they allow no alteration
in it. The idle learn nothing of interconnection, and
do not discover association, though they know much
that is isolated.

The contrast to this is in those who seem philosoph-
ical, because everything appears to them connected.
The vaulting is then present. But if the tapering is
lacking, emotion, even enthusiasm, arises rather than
criticism. To this class belong those who require
philosophy to be throughout of one form, and who
are told in vain that Logic, Ethics, and Physics are
different sciences.

That we may not fall into mistakes I beg you to
compare the rigidity which I have just described with
the earlier mentioned Bcoeotian temperament. Some-
LETTER XVIII. 125

times the two are combined, but by no means always;
on the contrary the rigid minds may, and often will,
appear of very good mental power in comparison with
the Bootian. Where lies the difference? In the
Beeotian subject we found a lack of sensibility, not
always perhaps in the external senses, but simply in
the irritability of one presentation mass as regards the
other. In this case the ruling masses of the presenta-
tions existing at the time do not permit their condition
to be changed by that which approaches them, whether
from within or from without. But with rigid minds
the fundamental defect is of a different nature. They
receive that which presents itself, they learn from the
outside world, and they are sensible of that which is
within. Only when the movement ought to come from
within, when the vaulting before described should take
place with considerable breadth, and should only then
begin to taper off, the basis of it all does not prove
flexible enough, and therefore affords too little help to
the apperceiving masses of presentations. We men
often enough find ourselves in this respect disadvan-
tageously placed in comparison with clever women, to
whom the solution of a riddle occurs sooner than it
does to us, and who for this very reason in social rela-
tionships are quicker to notice, trace out, and take into
consideration that which is scarcely perceptible, and
which escapes us easily. We are not Beotian, for we
feel quickly enough what we have missed when it is
afterwards explained, but we were rigid when we ought
to have directed mental vision in the right direction to
perceive it. As our books make us physically short-
126 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

sighted, so the manifold exertions of our reading and
thinking have injured our brains,—who knows to what
extent,—so that the presentation store often cannot
make its natural elasticity available, or at least only
when it is too late.

It is not a matter of consequence here to either of
us to pass judgment on the brain, and to investigate
physiologically its possible defects. But it is very
necessary that we should psychologically distinguish,
whether the hindrance is working at the point where
presentations struggle up from the threshold of
consciousness, or, where the presentations already
existing, have to submit to some arrest through the
coming of the new presentation.

Which of these two cases presupposes the greater
hindrance? That is to be estimated by the energy
which is met and repressed by the hindrance. If
presentations have already come together in con-
sciousness which cause a sum of arrests, a hindrance
of a very powerful kind will be necessary to prevent
the sinking of the sum of arrests, and thus the corre-
sponding alteration of the whole state. The case is
quite different when the hindrance only affects the
vaulting process. You know the proposition from
my psychology; the reproduced presentations rise at
first according to the square of the time, or rather
according to the cube of the time, if the new per-
ception which is arousing them requires, as usual,
a short space of time in order to become even
noticeable. What does that mean, and to what does
the proposition refer? In the first place it means this
LETTER XVIII. 127

much, that for the first few moments or for a very
short time, we shall find the reproduced presentation
move with one-half or one-third of this energy. Conse-
quently it is very easy to hinder so small and so weak
a force. But the proposition more especially refers to
that reproduced presentation, which is exactly of the
same kind as the new perception. This now has some-
how more energy than its neighbours, which have to
develop the above-mentioned vaulting. Consequently
a smaller hindrance will now so much the more easily
spoil the vaulting, or may at least disfigure it, if it does
not proceed symmetrically at all points. Hence we
very naturally find rigidity much more often than the
Beeotian temperament, which presupposes a much
greater deviation from the normal condition.
Letrer XIX.

The case of lively, pleasant, but superficial children — Apparent
absence of consistent characters in real life, as opposed to the
simplicity of mental phenomena in poetry and the old psychology ;
(1) Understanding found to be not of the finest type in such cases
—Memory good for isolated facts, unfavourable for associations ;
(2) Demand for constant recreation, society, change ; (3) Inability
to attain alone any continuous trains of association—Cause: A
physiological hindrance, which is intermittently, not continuously
active.

SLIGHT change in our former supposition as
regards the hindrance will place us in quite
a different region of our educational circle of experi-
ence, and we shal] get an example of how very similar
causes often show a wide difference in their effects,
Such examples are important as a warning to us not to
seek afar off that which lies at our feet, and above all
not to be surprised at cases which can be explained in
the simplest manner.

Doubtless, my dear friend, you know a class of mind
which seems just formed to buoy up and deceive the
teacher with false hopes. Lively, pleasant children,
quick in perception, acute in observation, clever and
robust, who indeed are somewhat troublesome to hold
in check, but who still can be guided, and in whom, if
controlled and kept from evil, what is good and right
comes forward spontaneously in various desirable ways.

Only the pity of it is that in the end nothing becomes
128
LETTER XIX. 129

settled and firm, the flesh is and remains stronger than
the spirit.

The old psychology will say: “What you see here is
sensuality ; it is the difference between understanding
and reason; the clever mind, which, as soon as it is a
question of duty, subordinates reason to sensuality !”

If the matter could be sketched in such rough
outlines we should certainly give ourselves no trouble
over a reason, which is for ever enslaved, and we
should expect nothing better than a thoroughly selfish
understanding, as is often enough depicted on the
stage, and I believe still more often in novels; for
poetical characters, or such as the old psychology
describes, are uncommonly consistent, whereas in
actual educational experience so varied and so vivid is
the play of colour, that one has some trouble in finding
concepts which adequately correspond to facts.

With regard first to the understanding, in the class
of people referred to, if looked at closely it is seen
to be not of the finest type, in spite of frequent
apparent brilliance. Quite apart from duty or enjoy-
ment it appears volatile and aimless; with this is
observed a wonderful memory, which is excellent for a
multitude of isolated facts, but quite unfavourable to
associations; so that, (speaking in accordance with the
old psychology), understanding seizes upon and grasps
many things with extraordinary rapidity in study
hours, of which memory will retain little or nothing.
I say intentionally “will retain,” for it seems as if this
otherwise good, and indeed excellent soul faculty were
positively capricious. Hence a natural delusion arises

I
130 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

in the mind of the teacher. He investigates the
matter. Has the young man a bad will? No; he does
not even quite know what he wants; at any rate
his will adapts itself to circumstances. Why cannot
we then obtain from him a good will of such strength
and persistency, as is required to retain and impress
once and for ever what has already been sufficiently
grasped by the understanding? If he remembers so
many isolated facts, why should he again let go what
is connected, when it has once been rightly grasped ?

If the features of my description, gathered from
experience, appear sufficiently clear, my good friend,
you already know why I have added this to my
previous remarks. At first sight, to be sure, nothing
can look more unlike, than the ability of which I am
now speaking, and the rigidity which was the subject
of my former letter. But you will have already
noticed that just behind the ability is hidden a
peculiar kind of rigidity, which in no way depends on,
or proceeds from the will, but which exerts upon it a
very strong and unfavourable influence; that is, asso-
ciation is lacking in the case just considered, even as
in the former one. Here, as there, perceptions exist
isolated and in fragments, and instead of unbroken
transitions we find flaws and rents.

To what, then, does this class of phenomena point ?
Perhaps I ought to have said that at once.

That hindrance, which has already occupied us for
so long, is not always a continuous one; it may arise
and pass away. The organism can bear, for a certain
length of time, a certain amount of strain on the
LETTER XIX. 131

mental side, but unless it is to cause a fatal reaction
it must not be increased or prolonged. This is familiar
enough in all cases when a mental strain is intentionally
continued too long. Now think of people who require
a little recreation every moment, and whose organism
actually procures this liberty for itself, even before they
notice and consciously decide upon it. Upon that they
are fresh again immediately, in quite good humour and
mentally active; but the thread of thought is broken
and changed during the pause which has just taken
place. Such can attain anything which is to be won
in haste; they even appear rich in thoughts, at least,
in sudden thoughts, and they are still richer in words.
But one peculiarity betrays their weakness : they cannot
be alone. Company, or at least a book, must ever come
to their help; and not too serious company and no
systematic book; that they call dry and slow, if they
speak frankly. But they are not always frank and
not always incapable of self-control; on the contrary,
a definite purpose or a definite situation always incites
them to sufficient exertion to conceal their weakness,
If anyone helps them by offering variety, leading them
from different sides repeatedly back to the same point,
their thoughts easily attain an apparent harmony, a
momentary connection; but if left alone they string
together loosely passing ideas, then they grow dis-
satisfied with themselves, and seek distraction or
actual excitement. Hence an appearance of dominant
sensuality, which often cannot in any way be assigned
to the sanguine temperament or to unusually strong
vegetation, but which has to bear the blame, so that
132 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

the fault may receive a name suggested by its possible
future consequences. What forms of evil have not
been ascribed to sensuality in cases where it is quite
innocent ?

But why have these people a bad memory, together
with one which is excellent? A bad one for associations,
a good one for isolated facts? Why is their memory
still bad, even when reflection has penetrated into
association? A provisional answer is easy. They
seemed to penetrate into association because they
could knit together the extreme ends of the thought
threads, but the earlier facts had escaped them and
the later were not yet foreseen, when for the moment
they were following connected instruction. Their
minds thus produced no association, but they were led
over narrow bridges, on which at each moment they
saw only the points on which they must next tread.

In these natures the roots of the evil lie just as
little in the will as in sensuality or memory. They
in no way resemble those contradictory minds which
we previously pointed out as afflicted with the choleric
temperament, they are too shallow for that. Neverthe-
less in youth they are apt to assume a stand-off manner,
which is a mixture of vanity and dogmatism; if it
should happen that they retain one thought securely
and combine with it a longer series, conscious of their
usual weakness they attach to it a special importance ;
they then willingly yield to the delusion that they have
no need of earnest thinking and accurate knowledge,
and so may reasonably leave it to others.
Lerrer XX.

Examples of vaulting and tapering :

(1) Music.—When tone (c) is heard the vaulting should include
every tone presentation which has ever been heard within the
upper and lower octave; these would then be quickly suppressed
by the tapering process, which brings (c) into prominence in
opposition to all other tones.

(2) Complex vaultings and taperings in language; every word
and every letter produces its own, on the success of which
depends the comprehension of the whole.

Three sources of possible error :

(1) In the foundation whence the vaulting is to rise,

(2) In the hindering of the vaulting.

(3) In the interruption of the tapering; of these (2) and (8)
may depend on the physiological hindrance, (1) refers us back
to the thought structure which existed before reproduction took
place.

Limitations of a mind which is only capable of forming short
series.

ET us turn back now to the concepts of vaulting

4 and tapering. The vaulting ought to be actually
large enough to embrace all those presentations which
acquired any degree of freedom, any free space, (as I
called it before), through the new object presented,
The above-mentioned example (XVII.) may illustrate
this. You know that I considered the distance of the
octave on the tone scale as that which must be
traversed before we reach the point of full contrast,
This being granted, when the tone (c) is heard, every
tone presentation which had ever been heard within

the upper and the lower octave should be roused
133
184 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

into activity. The basis of the vaulting should thus
embrace not less than two octaves. But if the per-
ception of the tone (c) just sounded, only attains the
smallest duration, it is certain that by far the larger
part of this vaulting is very quickly suppressed again
on account of the opposition between (c) and the
other tones. This suppression is already part of the
tapering process, which, however, will require an
appreciable time to develop fully. If anyone tries
to sing the tone (c) just heard, and sings it incorrectly,
whilst he fancies he has hit it right, the tapering
process in him is certainly not perfect.

Without troubling ourselves further over the example,
let us notice here two concepts of very general use:
that of the basis of the vaulting, and that of the time
which the tapering process requires to attain a definite
degree of accuracy.

Further, let us consider that if a given perception
is not simple, then the vaulting caused by it will be
of a complex character, and that if many perceptions
follow each other more quickly than the adequate
taperings can take place, the process arising from this
must also be very complex.

It is worth while here to think of language, and of
how we understand it. Each word, (indeed really each
letter of every word), produces the vaulting and taper-
ing peculiar to it; the comprehension of a whole
sentence proceeds from all these points, and is the
total result, which is only thus possible.

In order now to retain the former figurative ex-
pression we must imagine many vaultings, one inside
LETTER XX. 135

the other, which are conceived of as being in constant
movement, rising and sinking, till the most perfect
comprehension is attained.

Who will wonder that such a process is easily
injured ?

Granted even that we always spoke faultlessly,
scarcely one of our hearers would fully understand us.
But there appear to be three sources of possible error:

(1) In the foundation itself, whence the vaulting is
to rise.

(2) In the hindering of the vaulting.

(3) In the interruption of the tapering.

The two last errors may depend on the hindrance
which is to be explained physiologically, whether it be
continuous or intermittent; but the first fault, (<e, if
the presentations which are to arise have not them-
selves the right construction), sends us back at the
outset to psychology; it must also be of an earlier date,
since the basis, and foundation, formed by the sum of
existing presentations, was doubtless there before the
opportunity for reproduction made its appearance.

You already see, my dear friend, that I shall soon
invite you to go with me more deeply into the matter,
since I now bring into the question not only the repro-
duction itself whilst it occurs, but also the structure
which must be already there before actual reproduction
takes place.

But I must not forget that this is the place for a
remark on the possible form assumed by that which
is to be reproduced. If a hindrance of a variable
kind, with pauses in its activity, were established in
136 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

the organism from birth, then the development of the
series of presentations itself, which we must now soon
take into consideration, could not help suffering under
its influence. The threads of thought must every-
where turn out short, as if they had been frequently
cut off If they had developed in those pauses, the
hindrance, already attaching to the presentation pro-
cess, would have appeared again, and, coming in just
like a pair of shears, would have brought them to an
end at a point, where as regards the subject, the end
ought not yet to have come. Thought will then in-
evitably appear like a badly-punctuated composition.
Such seems to be always the case with absent-minded
listeners. Even though experience and instruction often
resemble a book which can be read over again, this is
not what happens always; besides, the most necessary
repetition is often omitted. Consequently, as a general
rule, we shall find a difference in people whose thought
series are short, and those in whom they are longer. If
now anything can be compounded out of a short series,
the former class will be able to produce something;
but when longer series are required through the nature
of the subject, then they fall short and betray their
incapability. If you should perchance be thinking
here of Greek and Latin authors, and of those periods,
which, involved as regards internal structure, are yet
joined to each other by every sort of connective; or
even of the association of mathematical demonstra-
tions, or of historical philosophy,—such a side issue
would not seem to me at all inopportune, although I
cannot now follow it out.
Lerrer XXI.

Digression on the Perception of the Time-measure—(1) Consideration
of the case of a repeated flash of light: chief difference between
this and the continuous sensation before mentioned ; in the latter,
the tapering process is continuously active ; in the former, it only
begins when the sensation enters again, through the second flash
—(2) The case of the clock striking (cf. Arsis and Thesis, 1.2,
rising and sinking, in metre); with the first stroke the old
presentations of the same tone arise, with the neighbouring ones ;
with the second the neighbouring ones sink—(3) Presentation of a
pause; the third stroke makes prominent the time-measure—
Difficulty of determining what a time presentation is—Summary :
Some past series formation furnishes us with material to serve as
a standard of measurement—Let B (as before)=a presentation
which is to be recalled, of which (y) is a part; (a) and (8)=the
thoughts now in consciousness ; (c) = the reproducing presentation
—tThe first stroke (c) raises a certain amount of time-material
with (y) (the reproduced part of B)—The second stroke cuts off
the material, but at the same time raises it again from the
beginning—The third stroke again cuts it off definitely at the
same place; but (i.) the pause or time material must be distin-
guished from the neighbouring presentations which sink under
arrest—(ii.) The reproduction of e's by means of the succeeding
strokes, must be distinguished from the reproduction of (y), part of
B, in the first instance—Again, at the first stroke, whilst (y) begins
to raise the time-material, the first (c) has time to combine and
form a complex, with just as much of it as comes between the first
and second strokes—At the second stroke, just that part of the
time material which has blended with the first (c) is put into
a state of reproduction—If the third stroke is late, this repro-
duction arising from the first (c) will give rise to the feeling of
emptiness, by breaking off before the sound is heard—Effect
which depends on the degree of strength in strokes following each
other regularly—A strong third stroke gives rise to an ictus,

137
138 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

and consequently a new vaulting; if the second and third are
both weak, both unite in tapering, and hence in subsidence—
Examples: In metre, dactyls, and spondees ; in music, } time and
%; in the arts, the new vaulting also depends on varieties and
fresh combinations of melody, harmony, etc.

[F you allowed me to take you for a walk, doubtless

you would not mindbeing led a little out of our
way, just for the sake of an interesting view. So
now I invite you to a détour for the sake of a psycho-
logical outlook, which will I suppose some day, like
all psychological investigations without exception,
prove an important matter for education, even though
I cannot demonstrate it to be so at the present
moment,

We have, so far, always regarded vaulting and
tapering as one connected process, and yet not merely
are the concepts opposed, but we also know that one
must happen after the other. Ought we not to be
able, then, to separate these two? Certainly, the
possibility is clearly evident.

If you saw a sudden flash anywhere, or a gleam
of light shine out and disappear, what would arise
in you? Vaulting. If you saw it again just the
same, and in the same place, what would follow?
Tapering.

But please bear in mind that even an absolutely
momentary sensation, if there really were such a
thing, (which can never be proved), would by no means
have such an effect as to be entirely limited to the
moment of its occurrence.

Let us look once more at that presentation B, of
LETTER XXI. 139

which a part (y) (see XIV.) comes into prominence.
This coming forward always takes time, even if the
arrest through (a) and (8) could disappear suddenly ;
but even that cannot be, for the sum of the arrest
(between (a) and (@) on the one side, and (c) on the
other) only sinks gradually, even if (c) were a momen-
tary sensation, or could count as such. Just in the
same way as (y) gradually increases, the neighbouring
presentations also rise, whose awakening constitutes
that which we call vaulting. And the first difference
between the present and the earlier hypothesis shows
itself in this, that the vaulting remains free from that
on which the tapering formerly depended, until, that
is, the same sensation enters for the second time.!
For only then begins the arrest of the neighbouring
presentations, through the sensation to which they are
not absolutely similar. On the other hand, the con-
tinuous sensation, considered earlier, would have been
active in a tapering process throughout its whole
duration.

But you, my excellent connoisseur of esthetics,
could you now guess to what investigation I am
herewith inviting you? Its nature indeed is not

1 In the earlier case, a continuous sensation was producing tapering
throughout its whole duration, as, for example, when we see the
light shine out from a distant lighthouse. The neighbouring pre-
sentations, which rise in the vaulting (here, perhaps, former
perceptions of various lights) will be arrested, and sink (tapering)
through the influence of the continuous sensation of the light.

In the second case, 7.¢., of the flash, the vaulting will be free from
tapering, because the sensation is not continuous. The tapering will

not begin till the second flash, which wil] cause the sinking of the
presentations which are not exactly similar.
140 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

esthetic, for the judgment of the Beautiful and the
Ugly is immutable, no matter whether one can under-
stand the possibility of such a judgment or not. Still
it might be interesting if I were able to solve for you
the riddle of the perception of time-measure, which in
poetry as well as in music is so very important.

Let us see whether we have found, I will not say
yet the solution, but a preliminary to it. Meanwhile
think of other examples beside the former one of a
flash of light, which I only selected that the follow-
ing, which are more convenient, might not stand
alone, or limit the range of view in a disadvantageous
manner.

The clock strikes, or you hear the drops falling
from a gutter, or you beat regularly on the table, or
anything else you like, so long as you have a series of
sensations, which are repeated in a similar manner
after equal pauses.

At this point you will naturally think of that which
in metre and music is denoted by the words rising and
sinking (Arsis and Thesis). I take rising here to mean
the same as vaulting, sinking the same as tapering;
and by this explanation not only will possible mis-
understanding of the words be avoided, but also the
thing itself will be made clear. By the first stroke
which you hear, your older presentation of the same
tone is raised, together with all the neighbouring
ones; by the second the neighbouring ones will be
repelled or caused to sink.

But where is the time-measure? Obviously you
cannot grasp that until the third stroke, if its time-
 

LETTER XXI. 141

distance from the second is just the same as the
time-distance of the second from the first.?

So we must continue the discussion. The second
stroke does not only cause subsidence to the neighbour-
ing presentations, but also tapering to the principal
one. If the first stroke made you listen, and even
perhaps ask yourself, “What do I hear?” then the
second stroke gives you the answer, whilst you now
recognize the tone quite definitely as this and no
other. But that is not all. The sinking, at the second
stroke, had reference only to the neighbouring pre-
sentations; but as regards the chief presentation, the
second (¢) works just the same as the first (c) to
procure free space for the older B, which is of a
similar kind; thus, at the second (c) the free space
for B, already won by the first (c), becomes suddenly
larger, and it is as if B received by it an impetus, so
that the part of it which we called (y) suddenly in-
creases, or, to speak more accurately, goes on growing
with a sudden increase of rapidity.

If we only knew now what that actually is which

1 Let (y) be part of a presentation B of a chord on a violin. A
similar chord (c) is struck on the piano, Though we do not know
what a presentation of empty time is, we shall yet speak of the time
material. The chord (c), struck on the piano, rouses a part (y) of the
presentation of the violin chord. This (c) also combines with the
vague, indefinite presentation of a pause, which is suddenly cut short
by the chord on the piano (c) being struck a second time, After this
the time-material, reproduced through its blending with the first (c),
will tend to stop abruptly when the limit of the first interval is
reached, and if the third (c), (¢.e., the third striking of the chord on
the piano), is late, the sudden end of the time presentation gives rise
to the feeling of emptiness,
142 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

we call a presentation of time! The metaphysical
concept of time certainly does not help us at all here.
But I am now asking, what that is which we,—to-
gether with every soldier who marches to time, and
every drummer who understands his art,— represent
to ourselves as a pause between the two nearest
beats, whilst we perceive or measure out time ?

Unknown as it is, it must at any rate be a quantity
which we, who are practised in the perception of
measure, can make greater or less as we like, in order
to play Adagio or Allegro. This quantity must be
already measured off between the first and second
beats, so that then, coming in between the second
and third, it may indicate that the third stroke will
follow at exactly the right moment. But that which
serves here as a standard of measurement must
really be in us a gradual event, which completes itself
just at the instant when we demand the third stroke,
and recognize it as coming at the right moment.

Whatever then may be the material, of which
a greater or less quantity now serves as a standard of
measurement, so much is clear: that the first stroke
raises the material with the before-mentioned (y), the
second cuts it off, and at the same time raises it again
from the beginning, and the third cuts it off once
more at the place where it was before severed, which
definite severance the fourth and each following stroke
at regular intervals will then repeat.

You foresee, doubtless, that an accurate investigation
of this material will lead us to the doctrine of the
formation of the series of presentations. Indeed, if
LETTER XXI, 143

we speak of time,—to gather up our thoughts on the
subject,—we need not stop longer over the idea of an
hour than of a minute; and, again, we can investigate
a minute just as easily as a second. But could you
conduct an orchestra if a piece of music were being
produced, wherein only long notes occurred, each of
the length of a minute? Even if you could, I, for
my part, would not care to listen; and for this reason,
because though I have the concept of a minute, that
is sixty seconds, my time standard, by means of which
I directly perceive measure, does not ever last over
six, much less over sixty seconds; whereas I measure
with ease whole, half, and quarter seconds. In the
range of this convenient time standard there occurs
in us a really successive presentation, which uses just
as much time as serves to measure it out, and, my
friend, I do not need to tell you that the laws and the
full possibilities for the actual successions in this
process of presentation, must be sought in the doctrine
of the development of series. Later I will remind
you of it quite in detail.

Let us now gather up what has been already said to
see how far it takes us. Any series formation what-
ever, though we may know nothing further about it,
has already some time ago provided us with a certain
amount of material, of which the first stroke, since it
reproduces the part (y) of B, raises gradually an
indefinite quantity. The second stroke gives to the
(y) a sudden acceleration; at this, the quantity of
material, now exactly the size to which it had grown
up to the moment of the second stroke, is suddenly
144 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

raised up still more, for it rises by means of and with
the accelerated (vy). It is by the action of this second
stroke, that this quantity is now cut off, and separated
from the part of the material which follows, which
was in the very act of coming forward, and on which
just such an arrest is now at work as that which
we know as the basis of the tapering process. But
here I must make myself plainer. Distinguish—

(1) The neighbouring presentations which suffer an
arrest as they sink, from the material which is repre-
sented as intermediate time, or as a pause.

(2) The reproduction of the first (c) through the
second (c); and speaking generally, the reproduction
of the collective preceding (c’s) through the (ce) which
now follows, from the reproduction of the (y).

That is to say, the material represented as inter-
mediate time ought to experience no subsidence, just
in so far as the time is measured, for that would
be equivalent to saying that the presentation of the
measurement standard suffered arrest, quite contrary
to the main drift of our discussion. But it is not
difficult, if you look back, to grasp the difference.
What sort of accessory presentations were those which
are said to have been sunk? The neighbouring ones,
which you found in our previous example, when you
ran through an octave from (c) upwards and down-
wards. But that material which changes itself for us
into the presentation of a pause, and of empty time,
cannot possibly be anything so definite; otherwise, in
this way, we might even define that which we set
aside to fill out and measure off the time-distance,
LETTER XXI. 145

But our time-measure has no sound, even as our eye-
sight has no colour.

Further, at the second and each following stroke
two kinds of reproduction occur together. First, the
older presentation B, which already lay in the store of
our presentations, receives a fresh impetus towards
reproduction, or its reproduced part (y) becomes larger.
But second, the first, and, generally speaking, each
preceding (c) raises itself at the entrance of the second
and each following (c).

Now notice again that whilst (y), at the first stroke,
already began to raise the time-material depending on
it, opportunity was thus given for the first (c) to com-
bine, blend, and form a complex with this material;
that is, with just so much of it as could come forward
between the first and second strokes. At the second
stroke now, through the combination which has arisen,
just that which is associated, but no more, is put into
a state of reproduction through the first (c). If the
third stroke thus came too late, that reproduction
which proceeded from (y) would bring with it still
more of the indefinite material, but the other repro-
duction which begins from the first (¢) would no
longer follow, because it cannot go any further ;1 and
when it breaks off, it causes the familiar feeling of
emptiness, which we experience if we count the
strokes of the clock, and when, in our opinion, it
ought to be eight the clock tells us it is just seven.

You will now notice for yourself that it makes

1 Because the reproduction from the first stroke (c) was definitely
cut off short by the second stroke.

K
146 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

an important difference with what degree of strength
the third stroke follows, as regards its relation to the
first, and especially to the second. That is, if a new
rise takes place, after the subsidence caused by the
second, an ictus will be attached to it. But what
effect can that have? Let us ask first what effect
it must have? The answer appears from what has
been said previously: a new vaulting, for without it
there can be no rise. Now it can easily be understood
that the first stroke would have been too feeble to
cause all the vaulting which was possible; the second,
however, being still weaker, would thus be incapable
of increasing it; then a stronger or third stroke might
unquestionably complete it, if it only procured more
free space. If, on the other hand, the third, together
with the second stroke, are both weak in comparison
with the first, then both unite in tapering, and con-
sequently in the subsidence. This reasoning is
obviously applicable to the Dactyl, and the way in
which it differs from the Spondaic Metre! The
difference in music is of the same kind, depending on

1 In the lines—
“ Mérrily, mérrily, shall I live now
: Under the hélly that hangs on the bough"—
we have an example of the dactylic foot, where the beat falls on
the first of the three syllables; another example is to be found in
Tennyson’s ‘‘Ode to the Six Hundred ”—
‘Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to léft of them,”
The spondee, which is a foot consisting of two long syllables, is not
generally used in English verse ; but it exists in the words, ‘‘ Amen,”
and ‘‘ Farewell.” In Coleridge’s metrical lines it is represented thus :
“Slow spondée stalks from léng té léng,"
LETTER XXI1. 147

whether the third beat belongs to the last note in
the bar, as in }-time, or whether the following bar
begins with it, as in 2-time. But in the application
to the arts we ought not to forget the quantity
of that which is presented to the ear. No music
or poetry will offer us only beats on the drum, or
the monotonous sound of the fall of drops from a
gutter. With these come also a variety of words,
of melody, and of harmony, which must remind us
of the psychological investigations about the decrease
of sensibility. If the musician, with the introduction
of the new time, brings us also a new harmony, or
only a continued melody, a part of the necessary
power to produce a new vaulting lies in the fresh
receptiveness to which he now lays claim when the
former is almost exhausted; and in this way, with
the lesser help of the ictus, he constantly effects
the change between the rise and fall which art
requires. Many other things of various kinds will
occur to you of themselves, but it is time for me
to close this long letter and the digression contained
therein.
Letter XXII.

Presentations which rise simultaneously— Hypothesis: (i.) Two
presentations (a) and (6), rising at the same time, attain a higher
degree of clearness, than if, sinking simultaneously from an un-
checked position, they are obliged to press down each other—
Cause: At the general rising, the sum total of the arrest only
gradually comes into force ; at the subsidence it is in a complete
form from the beginning—(ii.) If three presentations of unequal
strength rise at the same time they oppose each other far less than
at the subsidence.

HAT a thing which cannot be found should turn

up in a place where no one thought of looking
for it, is a matter of daily experience. But men
who can scarcely hear the name of mathematical
psychology without fear and anger, are not the only
ones who fail to perceive the application of this to
psychology. Even I, who have known for many a
long year that the key to psychology was to be

1 Letter XXII. presupposes so much knowledge of Herbart’s
mathematical psychology, that though it is inserted here for the
sake of completeness, it can safely be omitted by all but advanced
students. In the original, it is supplemented by some calculations
of a difficult kind, touching the rise of presentations. As a know-
ledge of higher mathematics is required to understand the formule
given, this supplement has been omitted in the present work. For
the same reason Letter XXVII., and two other supplements, viz., to
Letters XXVI. and XXXI., have not been inserted, as without a
considerable knowledge of Herbart’s works, (some of which have not
yet been translated,) they would have been of little value to the
general reader.

148
LETTER XXII 149

sought in mathematics, have found the easiest things
lie hidden from me, and then have all at once dis-
covered them when the time came that I should look
for them in the right place.

Not much more than a year has gone by since
you congratulated me on having found at last the
clue to the calculus of the presentations rising
simultaneously, whereby the examination of the
sinking presentations, contained in my printed psycho-
logy, receives its necessary counterpart. You pointed
out then that the effect of instruction, as well as
the self-activity of the pupil, must immediately depend
on the simultaneously rising presentations; hence I
do not require to give you any detailed proof of the
importance of the subject, and only a word about
it is necessary. This, then, is the time to say it.

First of all, the vaulting, which has occupied us
up to this, was a general rising, and if you will now
set on one side the cause of this rising,—that is, the
reproduction of the B through the (c), which is similar
to it,—you will find yourself already face to face with
the problem which I must now set before you; hence
I have only this to add, that the extent of the arrest,
which actually comes into consideration at the vaulting,
(for the neighbours of B are just those which raise
themselves into a vault), is set on one side in the
calculus, which is to be mentioned immediately; not
perhaps as unimportant in itself, but in order to free
the mechanism of the calculus for the present from
a tedious complication. We must not require every-
thing of mathematical psychology, but we ought to
150 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

be thankful if only the possibility of regular progress
opens out at all, where hitherto neither way nor
path was visible.

Further, in order to perfect our knowledge of different
dispositions, we must consider from a new point of view
the physiological hindrance already mentioned; that
is, to what degree it changes the rhythm of the presen-
tations rising at the same time. But no further grounds
of justification are required, for me now to tell you
something, concerning which you have long desired
more accurate information.

Please turn first to paragraph 93 in my Psychology.
There you will find as an hypothesis the first funda-
mental idea, that two presentations (a) and (8) rise at
the same time; that is, the principle that two presen-
tations rising together can attain a higher degree of
clearness, or a higher position, than in the case in
which, sinking simultaneously from the unchecked
original position, they are obliged to press down each
other. You will also remember the cause, which is that
at the general rising the sum total of the arrest? only
gradually comes into force, whereas at the subsidence it
is there in a complete form from the very beginning.
A couple of opposing forces, which struggle upward
simultaneously, set, indeed, a limit the one to the other,
(the limit of the rise), which they can only approach
and not overstep; and hence neither attains to the
full activity which by natural strength would have
been possible to it. But if we suppose both forces in
full activity when they meet, they will intercept each

1 See note on pages 116, 117.
LETTER XXII. 151

other considerably more, just because the opposition
begins at once with full vigour. But be on your guard
against the common but erroneous idea of force creep-
ing in here. You know that presentations are only
active as forces, in so far as they are opposed to one
another. ....

Here it may well occur to you that the process may
be very simple at the subsidence of two presentations,
whereas the matter is much more involved when three
of them sink at the same time, since in this case the
weakest of the three may easily be cast upon the
threshold of consciousness, and indeed on the statical
threshold ;! which is as much as to say, it not only
disappears altogether from consciousness, but is also
so absolutely asleep as to have no further influence
over that which is still going on there. But you will
ask: “ What happens if three presentations of different
strength actually do rise at the same time?” Then
they oppose each other far less than at the subsidence.
Will three of them, of which one had been driven on
to the threshold by the others at the general sub-
sidence, be able then to exist together, when all three
simultaneously raise themselves from the threshold ?

1 Presentations which ‘‘fall asleep” immediately, because they suffer
arrest through others, are said to be on the threshold of consciousness,
Herbart calls this a statical threshold, if the presentation, in spite of
its struggles to rise into consciousness, is made as inactive as if it
did not exist, by the influence of the other presentations; it is a
mechanical threshold, if the presentation works with all its strength
against the arresting presentations, and although itself expelled, and
its object not represented, is thus sufficiently active to bring about
a peculiar state in consciousness. For Vaulting and Tapering, see
Introduction, p. lxix.
152 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

This naturally presupposes that before, for some cause,
all three had been completely arrested.

With some reflection we may perhaps guess what
the calculation will teach us; that is, that three
presentations may indeed rise together, even if the
weakest possesses very little force in comparison with
the other two. But soon there comes a moment when
it is driven back, while the others continue to rise.
And now various things may take place. Either the
third, again forced into subsidence, will never, even in
any length of time, be completely driven back; or
this might happen, but does not, since it would require
illimitable time. Or finally, it actually does happen,
and, indeed, in quite a short time. These preliminaries
must suffice... ..
Letrer XXIII.

Addition of the physiological hindrance to the former case—At first
the weakest presentations yield to it most—First (c) loses, then
(6), then (a)—Whilst the hindrance exerts its greatest activity
against (a), it frees (b) and (c) from some of the pressure which
(a) exerted on them—Thus (b) and (c) come forward, but equi-
librium is not thus attained, because the stronger must again
come into prominence, and by this time the nerve system generally
has become unsteady,—consequently fluctuation arises, and con-
tinuous clearness of the strongest presentations is prevented—Vice
versd, restlessness, lack of thoughtfulness, etc., may often point to
some defect in the nervous system, which should be dealt with
rather by physical than intellectual training. Comparison of super-
ficial and rigid minds—(i.) In the rigid, the defect lay in the lack
of vaulting; and, when the hindrance was intermittent, mental
poverty lay hid behind apparent versatility ; in these cases repro-
duction of presentations is presupposed ; whereas in the superficial,
there is no reference to reproduction, as the defect lies in such
presentations as rise of themselves, every morning, for instance, at
waking; (ii.) In the rigid, we face the difficulty of the teacher
in rousing the old asa starting point for the new ; in the super-
ficial it is a question of self-activity, which ends in desultory
attempts instead of steady progress; (iii.) In the rigid the hin-
drance, in this case, acts periodically ; in the superficial it is
continuous ; (iv.) In the rigid the vaulting is spoilt, and the rise
of the adjacent presentations hindered ; in the superficial the rise
of opposed presentations is changed to unsteady movements.—Case
in which both defects are present ; the hindrance which impedes
the vaulting then proves still more fatal in the region of personal
activity ; the uniformly rigid has the advantage over the
apparently versatile, in that, conscious of personal limitations, he
does not attempt what are to him impossibilities.

OU shall not be detained by calculations longer

than is necessary, my dear friend. You have

yourself, doubtless, already thought that something of
153
154 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

the same kind must hold good about four, five, or more
presentations as about three. All may rise at the same
time, but the time of rising will for most of the weaker
ones become so very short, that nothing noticeable will
be left of them. On the other hand, the pressure which
the presentations exercise against each other will be
much diminished, as soon as the degrees of arrest are
less, for the previous statement was made with refer-
ence to the greatest possible degree of arrest. Any
change which the combination, complexity, or blending
of the presentations may involve must be reserved for
further inquiry, since we have long been aware that
all images of objects, which in common life are called
presentations, are constructed in an extraordinarily
complex manner. Let us leave that for the present ;
be so good as to give me your attention now for the
next point. .

What will happen if that hindrance, which can be
explained on physiological grounds, of which we have
so often spoken already, should intrude into the process
just described ?

You remember that we have to imagine this strange
hostile force as yielding to the pressure of the presenta-
tion process, but for this very reason as capable of
exercising a stronger counter-action. At first, doubtless,
the weakest of the rising presentations will give way
to it the most. Thus at first (c) loses, then (6), and,
lastly, (a) in perceptible proportion. Thus the foreign
force begins to work with intense activity agaiust (a),
from which it suffers most. But in this way (c), ere long,
attains free space, since now those forces by which it
LETTER XXIII 155

was oppressed have turned against each other, and
cannot right themselves again until between them the
sum of. arrest? has sunk. In so far as (0) is considerably
inferior in strength to (a), it has little share in the press-
ing back of the hindrance, and the less it is occupied
in the struggle, the sooner it can and will make use, not
long after (c), of the free space which has appeared.
So (6) and (c) come again into prominence; but
equilibrium is not thus restored; the stronger forces
must again make their superiority felt. However, as a
rule, the nerve system itself will now have become
unsteady, and this condition, after the manner of
emotions, will continue some time. Without yet
committing ourselves to this we will only notice
how the rise of the presentations, which should
approach a limit defined by the above equations, is
subjected instead to fluctuation, whereby now one
and now another presentation sinks and rises.

Consequently, uniform, continuous clearness of the
strongest presentations cannot be expected when their
rise is opposed by a foreign hindrance. And vice versd,
when in place of a steady thoughtfulness we perceive
restless change, and especially an increase of the
weaker and therefore inconstant and fugitive thoughts,
then we shall recognize in the transitory character of
that which ought to remain stable, the sign of a hind-
rance which has its seat in the organic temperament of
the nervous system; a matter with which the physical
training has to contend much more than the intellectual,
in cases when it is at all possible to overcome it.

1 See note on pages 116, 117.
156 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

If now physical education has done what it can, if
the boy joins cheerfully in play, digests his food, grows
as he ought, and in spite of all this, steady thoughtful-
ness is still wanting, is there nothing else at all that we
can do? Shall we be content to repeat the verdict of
the mothers who complain of frivolity? It is an old
and very common charge, and is even heard of in cases
which ought rather to be treated for melancholia.

It will now immediately occur to you that I have
not given any description here of shallow minds. The
discussion turned on presentations rising at the same
time. In so far as this is characteristic of any mind,
to that extent, at least, it possesses self-activity ; and
this is still the case, even if instead of peaceful
equilibrium of opposed presentations, fluctuation rules
among them. So with such minds there is always
something to be done, even though the evil, whence
their limitation springs, cannot be removed. The main
point is to find out what, and how much, can still be
achieved in the existing straitened circumstances: the
first condition, however, is, that the evil should be
clearly recognized, and properly distinguished from
others which may be perhaps outwardly similar.

We have already spoken of so-called clever minds,
which are at the same time very narrow. (Letter XIX.)
Let us compare these with the present case. The
former were akin to the rigid type, notwithstanding
an appearance of versatility. We saw that the cause
of the rigidity lay in the lack of vaulting, and thus
in the bareness, with which, at the reproduction of
older presentations through experience and environ-
LETTER XXIII 157

ment, only that came forward which was directly
recalled, without the natural surrounding of connected
ideas, which in an abler mind are wont to rise, even
if dimly, at the same time. Such rigidity, (we noticed),
is often present in such a manner as to cause delay,
and in happy moments, when much might be perceived
correctly, the association is so lacking that only poor
effects follow; hence there is an appearance of versa-
tility, which conceals mental poverty; and the latter
unhappily will come forth at last after much teaching
and learning.

Where now lies the difference between these two
cases? First, the presentations of which we are
speaking are quite different in the one from what they
are in the other. Here a reproduction was pre-
supposed, whilst our formule in the supplement do
not at all refer to any reproduction by means of new
perception, but rather to such presentations as rise of
themselves every morning at waking, without requiring
any previous hearing or seeing. In the former we
thought of difficulties which the teacher finds in
instruction, if he rouses the old in order to make it
a starting point for the new. Here, on the contrary,
we place ourselves in view of mental self-activity—we
imagine, if you like, the human being as thinking or
dreaming, but perhaps also as acting, according to his
own ideas; but with it we miss the thoughtfulness
which ought to remain the same, and find on the other
hand a fluctuation of thoughts which, if they do come
forward into action, end in desultory attempts. And as
for the hindrance from which both kinds of evil arise,
158 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

it is to be considered in the one case as periodically
interfering, but in the other as doing so continuously.
But again, in the first case it was the vaulting which
was spoilt, and it was the adjacent presentations whose
collective rise was prevented. But here we speak of
opposed, and possibly strongly opposed, presentations,
whose simultaneous rise is not perhaps, as there,
directly hindered, but is rather changed into a succes-
sion of unsteady movements. But could both kinds of
defect be present at the same time? Every man who
does not absolutely belong to the mentally deficient has
a certain, even if only a narrow, circle of presentations
in which he is self-active. If now a hindrance appear
in his nerve system, which at reproduction impedes the
vaulting, this very hindrance will, in personal thought
and action, render much more difficult, if not impossible,
the quiet review of the opposed elements, which were
to be set in order. But the rigid minds, irresolute as
they often are, will yet have a sort of advantage over
these apparently versatile ones. He who is uniformly
limited attains gradually to stability in his narrow
sphere; he does not thoughtlessly attempt that which
is beyond his power; he gives up trying to grasp that
which he cannot retain. But often when the hindrance
subsides, or is quite in abeyance, such an individual
feels as if he had ability; he resolves and undertakes
that which only the able can carry out, and thus
complications arise of the most unpleasant kind.
Letter XXIV.

Signs of Frivolity in physical actions—Childish restlessness not
always the sign of frivolity—The phenomena of frivolity to be
traced in part to physical hindrances in the psychical mechanism ;
hence there is danger in blaming all frivolity as immoral action,
because (1) the blame may not make a proper impression ; (2) all
self-control is not necessarily moral, even if attained after reproofs
for frivolity—The antithesis to frivolity, seen in the true esthetic
comprehension of a great work of art, ¢.e., in the holding together
of several contrasted things, which many see only in detail—
This furnishes a simpler example than either true speculative
or empirical perception, since the former involves a movement
among the presentations, and the latter, space and time, and
consequently the formation of series,

LITTLE while ago we mentioned frivolity,—that

fault with which youth is more frequently charged
than any other. How is frivolity to be recognized ?
Ordinary teachers do not as a rule look very closely
into the movement of presentations, but, generally
speaking, they judge from words or actions, (words of
course being merely a special kind of action), that
there is a strong inclination to frivolity.

To us, on the other hand, the consideration of
wavering presentations suggested the observation of
not merely the inner and mental, but also of the
physical actions. And thus the previous investigation
will indeed open out considerably. Youth has but
little reserve ; the younger child, especially, says what

occurs to him, and lays hold of all that he can reach,
159
160 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

When now there is an opportunity of carrying the
inner flux of presentations into outward bodily action,
the mental process is then generally protracted, so that
we can perceive it as through a magnifying glass; for
outside things put more or less opposition in the way,
while through the process of observation the existing
presentation grows stronger, and in action the progress
is delayed, which the psychical mechanism was on the
point of making.

Hence youth suffers itself to be drawn hither and
thither in action, in inverse ratio to its possession
of a quiet thoughtfulness; moreover, where there are
many children, the restlessness of one communicates
itself the more surely to others.

But are all children thoughtless? On the contrary,
there are to be found, although rarely, those who
quite early in life act deliberately in a remarkable
manner, in the narrow circle of their knowledge and
ability. Such are thus in a position to grasp what
is manifold, without the opposition of the isolated
presentations bringing about a restless change of
thought.

This is a proof that the phenomena of frivolity have
not their origin in the purely psychical mechanism,
Otherwise, doubtless, the presentations which corre-
spond to a certain sphere of action would play the
same part in all minds, and so it might be questioned
at last whether anyone could be said to act deliberately.
However, we are not here considering the advantages
of adult life. But as only a few human beings are
born beautiful, and perhaps only a few perfectly
LETTER XXIV. 161

healthy, so it is only permitted to a few to allow
their own psychical mechanism to rule with perfect
freedom. If, moreover, this freedom of the mechanism
from natural hindrance is mistaken for the attained
freedom of the moral will, what will then come of the
science of education ?

Perhaps you will answer: in this matter the mistake
will do no harm; for in the end the freedom of moral
resolution must still be called forth against frivolous
action. If, therefore, the teacher should blame frivolity
as immoral action, not much harm is done: the only
important matter is to strengthen moral watchfulness
and self-control. Without altogether opposing this
statement (for there is some truth in it), I would ask
two questions. First: will the teacher make a deep
impression by such blame as this? Must he not often
fear that he will make bad worse by remedies applied
in vain? Second: are you convinced that all self-
control, including even that which is attained after
frequent reproof for frivolity, is therefore necessarily
moral? You will certainly not agree with this last
assertion.

But enough for the present if you admit my mathe-
matical formula, lately stated, that frivolity consists in
a deviation from the regular process which such
formule represent. Meanwhile I will not ask you
to admit too much. If we drew a picture corre-
sponding to the general concept frivolity, we should
unquestionably put into it a number of other
features; enough, therefore, if that deviation may be
regarded as the rough sketch.

L
162 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

I should like to find a suitable contrast to frivolity.
See if the following satisfies you: the true esthetic
comprehension of a great work of art. You know
how most people look first at the detail, and not at
the whole as such; you easily see there is no fairy
at hand to perform a puzzling wonder, but that in
the work of art lie many kinds of contrasted things,
which true esthetic perception holds together, only
on condition that it remains undisturbed. We shall
not require of children, with whom we read the
Odyssey, that they abstain from being absorbed by
the particulars. On the contrary, we demand sympathy
for the characters and adventures described there.!
Even so we are not surprised if, in the fairest land-
scape, the boy only perceives a number of towers,
hills, trees, and rivers. _ sure such a boy will
scarcely become ar artist, PM science of education
neither could 4°r would sie § 4m one, for it cannot
overcome as "ganic hinetranc,

1 A leading pepe in Herbartian thought is that true education
x». the pupil from the ‘particular to the general. In this

, #iphasizes what hss been taught by other great thinkers,
. ,atand Pestalozzi. ‘‘ Perceptions,” said the former, ‘‘ with-

.1 notions are blind ; general notions without perceptions are
hei: And again, we read in Lessine’s Briefe, ‘Only the skill to
: pe in every emergency to universal truths makes the great

: true hero in virtue, the discoverer in science and art,”

   
     
 

had watched falling objects, many had observed the lunar progress
round the earth, but it required a Newton to unite these particulars
by one sublime and general law. So it is the genius of the artist
which perceives unity amid variety in the picture, and the general
laws of Beauty fulfilled in the details of the landscape. See also
Introduction, pp. cxii., cxiii.
LETTER XXIV. 163

If you ask me why I did not mention true specula-
tive perception! rather than esthetic, I answer because
the speculative involves a necessary movement in the
process of presentation, whereby that which is pre-
sented, changes; and that has nothing to do with the
previous remarks.

Rather might I have cited the true empirical
perception, perhaps, of the skilful geographer and
historian. But here space and time are involved,
and consequently the formation of series and the
movement of the presentation process through series.
That was not then our subject, but it shall engage
our attention now.

1 By speculation Herbart means inquiry into causal relationship or
reasoning. See also note to p. 9.
Letter XXV.

The important process of construction depends on the ae
of series—(1) The normal length of the series a, 6, c..
extends as far as the last member (p), with which (a) can aig
blend before it is forced out of consciousness—Let P represent the
reproducing term; 7, 7’, m”, w”, etc., reproduced ones which
follow: (2) The degree of connection between the members—If (a)
sinks quickly, its remainders, left to combine with (d), (c), (d), will
be smaller than if it sinks slowly ; hence the result will be a poor
series ; the case of badly connected or “‘steep” series; well connected
or ‘“‘level” series—(3) Different kinds of series, e.g. : (a) Uniform
in degree of combination; (6) Uniform as to the strength of
individual terms ; (c) Not uniform, stronger terms at the begin-
ning or end, ete.—(4) Many series combined into one—Example: a
long, difficult word repeated slowly becomes a series of vowels and
consonants, though the final result, after many repetitions, appears
simple—(5) Variations in reproduction according to (a) different
circumstances, (b) different dispositions—(6) Periodic series, or
those which repeat themselves, ¢.g., catches, rounds, etc.—(7)
Series which contain subordinate series, connected with certain
prominent terms—(8) Complex series, containing side series,
which do not make progress with the principal one, e¢g., the
co-efficients in an algebraical equation—(9) Side series which
proceed out like rays from one term—(10) Side series which com-
municate with each other—(11) Presentation complexes, wherein
each element is the starting point of a series—(12) Series which
pass from simple to complex—(13) Series in which one is the
converse of the other, as in space relations.

yo you laugh at the thought that I took so
seriously, and even now bear in mind, your con-
gratulations for having at last begun the investigation

of the simultaneous rise of presentations? Who
164
LETTER XXV, 165

knows! Your friendship would scarcely protect me
from it, though your knowledge as a specialist, and
your insight into the importance of the subject, might
be some safeguard.

In pure mathematics a proposition is finished when
it is proved: in applied mathematics, to which psycho-
logy belongs, we must first have proof how far the
application reaches, and whither it leads; but perhaps
nowhere is it so necessary as in psychology to investi-
gate the whole sphere of possible cases, which a
formula may include. And how urgently the Science
of Education demands it of us, you know, my friend,
as well as I. This brief reminder, and the request
bound up with it for your attention, and at the same
time your indulgence, for the still inevitable imper-
fection of what follows, may, for aught I care, take
the place of an invocation to the nine Muses.

First of all, if it were necessary to demonstrate
in one word the importance of the subject, I should
not be at a loss for an expression. I should call it
“construction.” This word holds good of esthetic,
mathematical, and logical processes of construction, as
well as of those which are empirical and purely
external.1 And though we ought not, generally
speaking, to require our pupils to form anything new,
they should yet spontaneously imitate that which
we provide for them as a finished structure. But, in
all fairness, we ought to have a complete psychological
grasp of that important process of mental activity

1 The word here is sinnlich, t.e., perceptible by means of the
senses,
166 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

called construction, before we undertake even to so
much as guide it in the minds which we have to
cultivate.

The simplest element of each construction is a
series, for whereas in a figure, things lie involved
in each other in very varied ways, in a series the com-
plexity appears quite simple, when the place which
a thing occupies can be defined by the preceding and
following members. The concepts, right, left, above,
below, are only closer definitions arising out of this.
On this subject, if you had not known it long ago,
I should have to refer you to my Psychology. Here
again we cannot discuss the opposed prejudices of
a former day. We must not look back but forward.
Whether others may follow us or not is their own
affair, and does not concern us.

The following will serve as a preliminary and logical
sifting of the points of inquiry :

(1) The series already differ according to their length.
If the presentation (a) is mingled with (0), less with
(c), still less with (d), and so on, then let (p) be the
last member with which (a) can still possibly blend,
before it is forced out of consciousness. This distance
from (a) to (p) we will call the normal length. Thus
it appears that a series which reaches from (a) to (r)
or (s) is no longer held together by (a), but through
the blending of (8) or (¢) or (d), and so on, with the
following members. If now a series, which passes
beyond the normal length, is to be reproduced in
consciousness, the force of this reproduction -cannot
be sought in (a) only; and since we will not commit
LETTER XXV. 167

such folly as to look for reproducing power in memory,
or in any other soul faculty, we must suppose it to be
in (0) or (c) or (d), and so on. Now that, indeed, is
possible, but it complicates the investigation. We are
considering first the reproduction of the series, only
in so far as it proceeds from the first term, conse-
quently we limit ourselves to the normal length ; and in
order that the difference between the first reproducing
term and the reproduced ones which followed, may
not escape us, we will denote the first by (P), but all
the following ones by a, 7’, 7”, 7”, and so on, which
symbolism will be familiar to you from psychology.

(2) The degree of connection between the terms of
a series may be stronger or weaker. If (a) sank
quickly in consciousness, while (0), (c), (d), and so on,
were produced one after another, the remainders of
(a), which had mingled with the following terms, must
be found collectively smaller than when (a) sinks
slowly. The series must, therefore, have turned out
badly, and no mind faculty can make good the defect.
But the old proverb may well occur to the teacher,
“ Repetitio est mater studiorum,” for with repetition,
association grows stronger amongst the terms of the
series. With reference to an illustration which you
will find in Section 100 of my Psychology, I will call
the badly-associated series, “steep” (sted); that which
is better connected, “level” (flach), and level here is a
term of praise.

(3) The series may be throughout uniform or not,
both as regards their degree of combination and the
strength of individual terms. With those which are
168 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

not uniform the stronger terms may be either at the
beginning, or at the end, or somewhere in the middle.
If you will here notice the rhythm, in which a series
(poetical, or even musical) is produced, you will find
the stronger terms have attained their pre-eminence
either through energy or through duration.

(4) Sometimes many series pass for one. That which
was repeated ten times, if it include a series, must
bring that series tenfold into consciousness, in which
the before-mentioned varieties may occur.

For example, when your pupil is to be impressed
with a long and difficult word, if he does not retain
it correctly the first time, you repeat it, speaking more
slowly. But now the word is a series of vowels and
consonants. By means of your repetition this series
forms itself in the mind of the pupil. The repro-
duction arising therefrom, when he has at last learnt
the word, seems to you simple, whereas it is really the
complex of all those reproductions which correspond
to just as many perceptions of the same series.

(5) Reproduction may occur under different cireum-
stances. It often happens that a boy seems at one
time to have forgotten that which nevertheless on the
next day he will know, though he has not learnt it
again. Dispositions also vary very much with regard
to reproduction, so that many an one who actually
possesses greater intensity of presentation, outwardly
appears weaker than another, in whom reproduction
occurs more easily. Hence come the complaints that
one who learns easily does not retain long.

(6) In order now to approach compound series we will
LETTER XXV. 169

remind ourselves first of series which return into them-
selves, because either the first or one of the succeeding
terms repeats itself. This takes place in everything
which is to be regarded as in any sense a round or as
periodic.

(7) In the case of series which are not uniform, on
the other hand, some prominent terms often form and
raise up a series among themselves. So in classifica-
tions, when the generic notions are co-ordinated
together. The great facility which is attributed to
retention by means of classification depends upon
this.

(8) In complicated series one term or several terms
have often a side series, whose course does not imply
progress in the principal one, as in equations when
the co-efficients themselves form a succession, We
might think of the main statement in algebraical
equations, and the compounding of the co-efficients
from the roots. If you wish to follow the series which
belongs to the formation of a co-efficient, so long
will thought remain stationary over the power of the
unknown quantity to which the co-efficient belongs.
Hence a constraint is brought to bear upon the psychi-
cal mechanism which is found unpleasant, and which
contributes much to that which is generally called hard
and dry in the sciences.

(9) But even one and the same term may have several
side series which proceed forth from it like rays, as in
the history of a great state at the moment of its
breaking up into many smaller ones, or the activity of
a great man in different directions.
170 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

(10) The side series may communicate with each
other as the radii of a circle through the cords.

(11) In complexes of presentations, (such as are all
our concepts of the objects of sense), each element of
the complex, (ze. each sense characteristic), may be
the starting point of some series,—as for example, of
changes.

(12) There may be series which begin simply, but
which afterwards become complex. A burning, sul-
phurated thread, which at last fires a mine, may serve
here as an illustration.

Lastly, there are series of which one is the converse
of another, as in everything which we look upon as
relating to space. Still, the previous analysis may
suffice for the present, in order to point out the great
variety of that over which the series structure has sway,
so that the tutor, who neither knows nor cares about
it, is never really conscious what he is doing, when he
requires from the pupil a series formation and its
reproduction.
Letrer XXVI.

ForRMUL& oF SERIES Formation: P=reproducing presentation;
=reproduced presentation; w=a part of 7; w'=a part of 7’,
etc.—Defective series: The members in the wrong order point to
a defective blending of P with the different 7’s—Example: a boy
listens to a list of Roman kings now attentively, now carelessly,
therefore P(= Roman kings) possibly blended with x” more than
with 7’, consequently the reproduction appeared in reverse order;
P must sink slowly whilst the remainder of it, r, 7’, 7’, etc.,
follow each other in due order ; but it must not sink too deeply,
Jest the presentation, ‘‘Roman kings,” be quite forgotten before
the series is finished—Lastly, if the’ reproduction of the series is
successful, 7 (a remainder of P) blends with 7; 7’ (a remainder of
P) blends with wr’; r” (a remainder of P) blends with x”, etc.—In
rigid minds reproduction suffers from the hindrance.

HOPE you are not expecting that I shall now

discuss one by one the separate points in the
previous letters. Far be it from me. I wished to
indicate a field for reflection, wherein are many things
which you certainly have known some time, but which,
perhaps, you have not yet thus associated together.
But the mere analysis and synthesis is of no assistance
beyond the usual empiricism, and therefore does not
raise us above the general confession, that we do not
even know why a pupil grasps one thing easily and
another with difficulty, or why the one comes to a
standstill here and the other there; and it is just as
little clear what the teacher and educator can actually
do in such a case. Now, without promising great

elucidations, I can offer you an exercise for reflection
171
172 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

on such questions,—that is, if you have some mathe-
matical patience left; for without this, positively
no one will find an entrance into this part of the
investigation.

In Section 86 of my Psychology, you see the symbols
P and w used in the above-mentioned sense; that is,
P is always the reproducing presentation, and 7
signifies the reproduced one. Suppose you ask a boy
the names of the Roman kings, and he repeats the list
from Romulus up to Tarquin, then the thought of the
Roman kings in the mind of the boy is our P; on the
other hand, Romulus, Numa, Tullus, and so on, are our
7, 7, 7, ete.

In the same place in the Psychology, you notice also
the letter w, which signifies a part of +; in the same
way w' isa part of v7’; w’,a part of 7’, etc. That is,
the part w of a is to come into consciousness in time
t, the part w’ of 7’ in the time ¢’, the part w” of 7”
in the time ¢”’.

Why, then, are not all these parts equal? What
determines the presentation P, that it should not
permit Romulus, Numa, Tullus, etc., to advance all at
once into consciousness? You are really answered by
the boy who learns incorrectly and without clearness ;
perhaps he says: Romulus, Ancus, Tullus, Tarquinius,
Numa, etc. To what does it point when he speaks
thus, and what should be altered in his mind ?

You have it! The defect must lie in the blending
of the presentation P with the different z’s. When
you alluded briefly to the Roman kings, (for this defect
will not easily show itself in detailed imaginative in-
LETTER XXVI. 173

struction in history, which is really the kind suitable
for younger boys), if the boy had listened to you
now with attention, and now carelessly, the presenta-
tion of a Roman king would have risen and fallen in
his consciousness, among various distractions and
arrests. So it might happen that not only the names,
briefly mentioned, blended very little with each other,
but that also a greater part of P blended with 7”
than with 7+’, and may have combined with the latter
more than with 7’; and then quite naturally the
reproduction appeared in reverse order.

For it is the remainders 7, 7’, 7”, etc., on which every-
thing depends! These parts of the presentation P
must follow each other in such order, as will occur if
anyone hears with perfect attention the words, “the
Roman kings are Romulus, Numa, Tullus... Tar-
quinius Superbus.” That is, the presentation of the
“Roman kings,” then sinks gradually while the names
are mentioned. To be sure it must not sink so deeply,
as that at the end, when we speak of Tarquinius
Superbus, the concept of a Roman king should have
quite disappeared; for it often happens, that when we
have finished a too lengthy series, the pupil no longer
knows what we have been talking about For this

1 Another example of the failure of the reproducing P to blend
with the other members of the series, may be noted in badly-written
essays. Instead of presenting us with certain definite leading
thoughts, with which all subordinate details blend, we are forced to
pass in a desultory fashion from point to point, perhaps jostle up
occasionally against some brilliant idea, only to lose it again amid
the crowd of the commonplace. At last the sad truth dawns on the

reader that he has totally forgotten whence he set out, and that he
could not possibly reproduce what he has read.
174 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

reason I spoke previously of a normal length, which
in an example of this kind would be already much too
long. But a modification must necessarily be made
for the sake of those cases, wherein, if Roman kings
are spoken of, Romulus occurs to the boy earlier than
Numa, and the presentation of Numa finds expression
before that of Tullus, and so on. And what is this
modification? What is left of the presentation P is

then blended.
r with 7

7” with 7’
r” with 7”
and so on, according to the formation of the series. . . .

But we will not now touch upon the more difficult
calculations, which, in the Psychology, follow the
passage we have quoted, rather will we seek out an
easy counterpart to that formula, the analogy of which
lies close at hand.

For have we not already spoken of rigid minds? In
such, reproduction naturally finds a hindrance, which
is generally more or less yielding. But take the most
extreme case, when it cannot be made to yield at all.
To be sure we must not think that therein lies a
complete negation of the process of presentation, for
in such a case the person in question would be actually
asleep. The hindrance is only said to work thus far,
that one presentation meeting another in consciousness
has to bear alone the whole sum of the arrest which it
causes... ..
Letrer XXVIII.

Application to Instruction—Different temperaments as regards external
action—Origin of dexterity in external action to be found in
regularly-formed mental series—Influences of external action on
the presentation series—(i.) Alteration in the rhythm by placing
the terms further apart; (ii.) Furnishing of a new observation—
Example: the pupil speaks, hears his own words; another presen-
tation requiring words presses forward—Opposition and arrest
among the words, and, therefore, among the presentations which
they represent—Failure of the slender thread of words to represent
fully the thought structure even in the mind of the pupil—Yet the
teacher’s work is to draw out, test, and correct every part of the
thought structure—Importance of the course of the series formation,
because of its bearing on education and action generally—Although
the subject of series formation as a whole includes the approach of
one presentation to another, as well as the withdrawal of one to
make room for successors, it is the latter or successive method,
which is specially necessary to the course of the series, otherwise
the presentations would overwhelm each other and disappear—
Thus, writing, (by which we pass from point to point), affords aid
to reckoning.

WOULD now very willingly, my dear friend, put

in a clear light for you the educational significance
of the result at which we have arrived, but I proceed to
the attempt with a certain amount of diffidence. Not,
perhaps, as if it were hard to me to conduct you from
the letters of our formule again into the circle of
general educational thought; rather does the difficulty
lie in this, that those formule appear to me as a
treasury, whence inexhaustible riches may flow, and
that I do not yet sufficiently trust my own power

to make an adequate statement of a subject which
175
176 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

even to me is still fairly novel. For this reason do not
ask for perfect order. I must be allowed to deal with
that first which is most obvious, with the reservation
that I may afterwards come back to statements which
actually lie nearer.

Previously we have often and at length considered
different temperaments and peculiarities, which at one
time oppose the practical teacher as unconquerable
hindrances, but at another provide advantages of which
he must make use. To these peculiarities of the pupils
belong unquestionably their different temperaments as
regards external action. Some sit patiently, others are
restless; many cannot see an object without pushing,
turning, or somehow setting it in motion. Some are
quiet, others talkative ; some are helpless, others active,
teachable, dexterous. This capacity for external action
is not, as we might suppose, a simple thing, so that one
could assert with brief accuracy that it was present
in a certain degree or not; rather is it of varied and
widely different kinds, so that one kind may be present
when another is lacking. Everyone knows now that
this external dexterity has a very great influence on the
pupil’s capacity for culture. But ought we not to be
able to trace out more accurately what the state of the
case actually is?

First of all it certainly occurs to you at once that
the dexterity cannot be anything simply and solely
external. On the contrary, hands, feet, speech organs,
and all movable parts of the body are first impelled by
the mind to such movement as may be regarded as
intentional, and skilful with a view to something, even
LETTER XXVIII 177

though only in the lowest sense. But when anyone is
unskilful he generally complains “I do not know
how to begin.” And what does the teacher probably
answer? “T will show you the beginning, or make
it for you, only try now to go on.”

And you, my friend, see now at least how this is
connected with what was said before. He who does
not know how to begin, or how to go on, has some
defect in his knowledge, and something faulty, or at
least lacking, in his series culture. And if the shy boy
must hesitate through fear, the reproduction of an
already-formed series for the time comes to grief.

But I do not wish for the present to apply to
external action, what has been said about the forma-
tion of series; rather do I speak of external action
because it is something visible and striking to the eye;
so that if I can perhaps connect this sufficiently
palpable thing with the comparatively obscure mean-
ing of my previous formule, I may get valuable
assistance in bringing out that which hitherto has not
been clear.

To this end we must, however, first consider what
influence external action may exercise on the presenta-
tion series, through which it is set in motion. I will
not speak here of the common and important change
wrought in our process of presentation, as soon as we
attempt to carry out that which we have planned ;} or

1 “ Action,” says Herbart in his Scéence of Education, ‘‘ generates
the will out of desire.” By tentative actions aimed at the nearer
ends, we may gradually form a presentation of a means to attain the

ultimate end; thus what seemed at first a vague desire, becomes
definite will. This presentation of the adequate means of gratifying

M
178 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

of how frequently we confess we have had experiences,
because things happened quite differently from what we
expected. On the contrary, let us suppose external
action to be always easy and successful. I only ask
what influence it exercises on the course of the
presentation series, even in those cases when it fails
to adjust them.

The first answer doubtless is that it alters their
rhythm, and places their terms farther apart, for
action, as a rule, does not proceed as quickly as
thought.

But this also I will set on one side, for even this is
not the first important thing which interferes with the
psychical mechanism.

The main point is rather this: that through action
something happens which furnishes a new perception.
This perception, even while it rises, is subjected to
the laws of the psychical mechanism. The presenta-
tion, which is produced in perception, does not only
blend at once with the already existing similar pre-
sentation, governing the action, but it is also attacked
by the arrest, by means of the other presentations
which are in consciousness, and thus it must im-
mediately sink very perceptibly, as has been described
in the Psychology, § 77.
desire often arises by means of a combination of presentations. For
example, the general desires a victory, which at first seems so im-
possible, that wilZ cannot arise. He reflects on certain military
tactics, calculated to gain,—some one point, some another ; suddenly
w combination of them all opens out before him, confidence in his
own ability to achieve success revives, and he wills to conquer.

1 It has been an experience to us that things turned out so differently
to what we expected, z.¢., we have seen something of “life.”
LETTER XXVIIL 179

Often, to be sure, action now comes to a standstill,
and changing into contemplation, disappears under the
influence of that which has just been produced. Then
the presentation series is not very energetic as com-
pared with the sense impression, or there is in addi-
tion great sensitiveness for the latter. (Psychology,
§ 94-99.)

But with further development, that which is done,
changes into that which is done with; which can now
no longer rouse us to activity, and close to which
presses forward the presentation of that which is to
be done next.

In order to consider the matter more conveniently
let us take the simplest, or, for the teacher, the
most common example. The pupil speaks. The word
which he utters he hears. The word is now spoken,
therefore another must follow it.

Here you see an action, which succeeds so easily,
that the presentation of the object denoted by the
word does not at all need to press forward to its full
strength before the utterance follows; on the contrary,
the least stirring of the thought,—provided no cause
for reserve is at work,—quite suffices to rouse the
tongue to full activity.

But how if the presentations, which require words,
press forward too quickly to be uttered? Then the
pupil cannot answer us; he is dumb, not through
ignorance, but through the fulness of thought.

This reminds us of the opposition and the arrest
which takes place among the words, in so far as they
are partly spoken and partly heard. The first word is
180 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

thrust back by the second, the second by the third,
and so on. But the presentations are bound up with
the words; consequently these also feel the pressure,
and must yield to each other in the same order, if not
completely, still to a sufficient extent, for the series to
run its course, the terms of which now appear all
about the same height, since they have attained utter-
ance. That something similar takes place in every
other action is a matter of course.

But I beg you to notice that the terms only appear
of equal height. For it does not follow from this, that
in a man’s thoughts there are just as few heights and
depths as there are in his speech and action, and we
know quite well that the opposite is true. As regards
you and me, for instance,—who are both accustomed to
make known our thoughts in lectures by the hour,—
how badly off should we be if the slender thread of
the words, which we allowed to pass our lips, repre-
sented our thought structure.

The practical teacher ought never to forget that
even in the mind of his pupil, there is, and ought to be,
quite a different building or web of presentations, from
that which lies in the succession of the words, which
it is possible to examine. But, still, every smallest part
of the web must by this means be to some extent
created, tested, and corrected; so that by teaching,
questioning, and answering, it is drawn forth in the
form of a series, to which the necessary corrections
are applied. Whilst thus the course of the series is
not by any means the most important part, and still
less the whole of that which we have to take into
LETTER XXVIII. 181

consideration, under the general name of series forma-
tion,—we ought, nevertheless, to attach considerable
importance to the possibility of it, because it constitutes
the general condition of teaching and admonition, as
well as of learning and action. And it will especially
strike you how closely the importance of language
culture, and even of articulate speech, is connected
with it.

The approach of one presentation to another belongs
just as much to series formation as a whole, as the
withdrawal of the earlier members to make room for
succeeding ones. On the other hand, the course of the
series is not possible without this withdrawal. Now an
adequate account of it was not given in the Psychology;
and it appears that the subject cannot be explained
in a few words. For the course of series is often no
purely psychical phenomenon. We saw just now how
one word thrusts the next back, whereas the thoughts
only unite one with another. You may remember
here what increased facility writing affords to
reckoning, and that mental arithmetic itself rests
for the most part on the practice of imagining the
numbers as if they were written. If, instead of the
successive method in reckoning, the thoughts were
allowed simply to accumulate, one would very soon
overwhelm the other, and simply on account of the
sum of their inherent arresting force, they would
disappear almost completely from consciousness. But
what has already been said will lead you to another
observation, which I reserve for the next letter.
Letrer XXIX,!

Opposition among themselves of the presentations which form a
series—(1) Each presentation is most yielding when it has attained
its maximum strength—(2) If a presentation, (through external
action, speech, etc.), produces an observation corresponding to
itself, it will quickly reach its maximum—(8) It will tend to sink,
if a following presentation, also through external action, produces
an observation which opposes the first; but this opposition will
not, of course, take place if external action is lacking—(4) Effect
on the series of opposition among the presentations themselves—
(5) If the second presentation, through possessing higher velocity,
should force the common pressure on the first, the maximum of
the first must be reached sooner than was before calculated, and
the second presentation will work on higher, uniting its opposition
to the pressure already bearing on the first—(6) The pre-eminence
of the second over the first presentation will only last till the
moment when the former has attained its maximum; then the
order of the series will come to an end, whilst both sink together—
Practical bearing of this on Instruction: Defective methods,
resulting in inopportune interruptions of the psychical mechanism ;
disturbance of its action by cross-questions; failure to set the
pupil on the right track ; possible development of stammering and
hesitation.

ae is the opposition of the presentations among them-
selves, which thus form a series of the different
7’s,? to which we must now direct our attention; for

1 What has been said concerning Letter XXII., p. 148, is equally
applicable to Letter XXIX. It is inserted here for the sake of those
students who are familiar with Herbart’s system of mathematical
psychology, but the general reader is advised to omit the section
enclosed in asterisks,

® See Letter XXV., p.167. P there represents the reproducing term,
w, 7’, 7", the reproduced ones in a series.

182
LETTER XXIX. 183

there is a short space of time during which, on account
of this opposition, the preceding presentations may be
driven back by those which come after. But suffer me
to refer once more to what has been said.

Every presentation is most yielding at the moment
when it has attained its maximum strength, for then
is it least of all in a struggling condition, a state
which is just the reverse of real presentation.! If a
presentation 7, through external action, speech, or the
like, produces a perception corresponding to itself, it
will, through it, quickly reach its maximum, raised
perhaps even above that which was reckoned a
maximum in previous cases, and determined by
counter pressure. So much the more certainly must
it sink, as soon as the following presentation, through
its activity, has produced an observation in harmony
with itself, which opposes the first. But the latter
does not occur when external action is lacking, and it
now depends on whether those conditions are still
present in a sufficient degree, under which the mere
opposition which lies in the presentations themselves
can effect the course of the series. For it is evident
that, if it be strong enough, a like effect is to be
expected from it, as from the opposition among those

1 As long as a presentation is struggling upwards, it has not
attained its perfection; whereas when the maximum is reached it
is in a state of rest, and is then most truly typical of the presentation
process. At the same time it is then most ready to subside or yield
to others, not being in a state of full activity itself. For example,
when we are ‘‘ trying to think” of a half-forgotten line of poetry, the
presentation of the fragment of the line is in full activity; when,

however, we have succeeded, and the wished-for line is in full con-
sciousness, we are ready to think of something else.
184 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

external perceptions; on the other hand, everything
does not depend on this alone, and for this reason I
have said nothing about it in my former letters... ..

It is self-evident, that at the moment when a pre-
sentation attains its maximum, its velocity is=0, for
otherwise it would have risen higher... ..

What will happen, if, in accordance with earlier
development, the greater energy, appearing in the
higher velocity of the second presentation, forces the
common pressure on the first? Then must the
maximum of the first be reached sooner, and at a
lower point than that before calculated; on the other
hand, the second presentation will work on higher,
since it overcomes the pressure better.

Moreover, the opposition of the second presentation
may now combine with this pressure against the first,
only we must bear in mind that both presentations
necessarily suffer from this opposition, and the more
severely the stronger it is.

But how long can the pre-eminence of the second
presentation over the first last, whereby as the second
term of the series it makes itself felt near to, or after,
the first? At most, only up to that moment when it
has itself attained the maximum, and then begins to
sink. For then it is quite evident that it was really
borne up by weaker energy, and the order in the series
comes to an end, whilst both sink together.

This latter circumstance is one to which I would
specially call the attention of the practical teacher,
who only too easily forgets how soon the tide on which
he would launch begins to ebb.*
LETTER XXIX, 185

You know, my dear friend, that my official position
has given me opportunity of observing the methods of
many teachers, and especially of younger ones. I will
not speak here of the faults which are usually com-
mitted in continuous lectures, I will only mention
those which appear when it is a question of starting
the pupil well in his work, and supporting and helping
him in it, even as often occurs in translation or
arithmetic. It is here I have so often noticed how
little, teachers generally comprehend the psychical
mechanism, to the activity of which they ought to
attach the greatest importance. For whereas they
ought to be of assistance, they are really in the habit
of disturbing its action, now with repetition, now by
correction without urgent need, often with cross-
questions and exhibitions of bad temper; at another
time, they do not even so much as take pains to start
the mechanism in the right way, but allow the pupil
to needlessly worry himself about matters which he
really cannot guess, and does not know. All this shows
that they have no conception of the rhythm in which
a presentation series can develop, and which should
be treated with the utmost care. Hence the habit
of hesitating and stammering,—an annoyance both to
themselves and others,—has often attacked not only
whole classes, but even entire schools, from the lowest
to the highest forms, and has had such sway that
intelligent reading and explanation, or the immediate
comprehension of the whole of what is read, is not
to be thought of. If only there were some idea
that a psychical mechanism existed at all, which has
186 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

its own peculiar velocity and definite rhythm, wherein
alone it can proceed easily; if it were but recognized
that the time lost and wasted by inopportune inter-
ruptions and lack of assistance cannot be made up,
since when once the presentations have lapsed into
general subsidence, reproduction for the time being
can scarcely be restored to an adequate activity; if
only proper attention were paid to the lessons, which
anyone who is willing to learn may deduce from ex-
perience—then many an awkwardness between teacher
and pupil, which now causes annoyance to both, would
disappear of its own accord, and many a school subject,
which is now considered too difficult, could quite easily
be so treated as to produce its effect soon enough.
However, it was not yet our intention to draw up
practical rules; rather did we wish to examine the
capacity for cultivation in the pupil, with regard first
to natural temperament. Let us turn back to this.
art LW.
ACQUIRED DIFFERENCES.

LETTER XXX.

Résumé of the preceding letters.—The effect of a physiological hind-
rance in destroying a series, and causing all the presentations to
be driven out of consciousness—Example of this in naturally dull
boys—Reproduction often fails in the observation of anything not
quite to their taste, or anything adhering to connecting links
established earlier, such as the words of a foreign language—The
foreign words form a series each attached to a word of the mother
tongue ; hence the serious nature of the loss if the latter should
be defective—Importance of progress in language, due partly to its
intimate connection with external action—Importance of basing
all instruction on experience and intercourse, i.¢., on the leading
presentations (P's) already in the mind of the child—(i.) The
new information to be afterwards reproduced (7, 7’, 7”) must
not be too great in quantity, in proportion to the old to which
it is to be attached (P); hence the evils of learning foreign
languages when the knowledge of the mother tongue is imperfect
—(ii.) The importance of establishing first certain strong points of
support in the child’s mind, to which small portions of the new
information may be attached; these should be combined with
the largest possible quantities of the old, the series not being too
long, lest the leading presentation P should have sunk too deep ;
the arrest among the presentations themselves must not be too
strong—Mistakes of unskilful tutors, especially in failing to make
clear leading points—Necessity of using the bodily activities of
the child, especially in the earlier stages of development.

E proceeded first with the supposition of complete
rigidity in that which counteracts the rising re-
production of a series. Such a rigidity cannot arise

from the presentations just then in consciousness taken
187
188 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

by themselves; they are always yielding to a certain
extent, and the opposition, originating in them, only
gradually becomes strong against that which is repro-
duced in consciousness. But if a hindrance of a
physiological kind is added, then it can easily be under-
stood that the existing presentations, which are, as
it were, involved in it, will also be found unyielding ;
the sensualist, the glutton, and the person whose
emotions are excited, furnish us with examples of
this. We have seen now what will follow with
reference to reproduction. That is, in the mathematical
addenda it appears first that the reproduced presenta-
tions then approach a lower limit, and that at this
boundary—and this is specially to be noticed here—
they come near to each other, but in no way take
their places in the form of a series. Rather would
the whole mass, into which the series has now
transformed itself, together with the presentation
reproducing it which we called P, be driven again
out of consciousness.

We see something similar happen in naturally dull
boys, whenever we wish to engage their attention in
subjects, of which the presentations, in them, are not
yet strong enough to maintain themselves indepen-
dently in consciousness. We see reproduction
frequently come to grief in all learning, or even in
the observation of that which is not just to their
taste; in everything also which adheres to connect-
ing links established earlier, (to such a P, for instance,
as was mentioned above), which thus would necessarily
come forward again with the links, if it had power to
LETTER XXX. 189

come forward at all: the words of a foreign language,
learnt with difficulty, may serve as an example of this.
For what are these words? They are series of letters
or speech sounds attached to a word of the mother
tongue. These series must be easily and accurately
reproduced in the order of the letters if we want to
learn the language. Examples of a higher kind might
be mentioned, of as varied a character as they are
plentiful in number. TI will not linger over them.
But what happens if learning the mother tongue itself
is a failure;—a thing which may easily take place from
similar causes, for here those series, which, bound up
with ideas and intuitions, form the words of the mother
tongue, should be surely and accurately reproduced by
means of thought. Then is lacking even the most
ordinary means of assistance, viz., that from the sphere
of external action, which, as we have seen (XXVIIL.),
renders most important service in the evolution of
the series.

Therefore we cannot wonder that the teacher gener-
ally judges a boy’s capacity for further culture, as well
as his natural ability, in the first place, by the progress
in language which he has already made. But un-
doubtedly, in this estimate of natural ability, the
rest of external action, both as regards its aims and
the dexterity displayed in it, must also be taken
into account.

Further, we shall notice that our discussion of the
capacity for cultivation in the pupil here passes quite
naturally from innate temperament to that which
depends on the use made of earlier years. For not
190 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

all series are so constructed that they can be repro-
duced with equal facility.

Our formule draw our particular attention to the
relation between the quantities r and 7. What does
that mean? As a preliminary explanation I might say
that it points to the importance of having all Instruc-
tion based on and connected with experience and
intercourse, though the subject is by no means
exhausted thus.}

If you wish to illustrate this explanation by some
educational Principle, doubtless well known to you
from your own practice, put the oft-mentioned repro-

1 The relation between Instruction, Experience, and Intercourse is
also worked out in Herpart’s Science of Education. On the one hand
he could not agree with Rousseau, for—“ To form ‘ Nature-men’ means
to repeat if possible from the beginning the succession of evils already
overcome. To narrow the sphere of teaching and warning to the
immediate environment is the natural result of a man’s own limita-
tion, which neither knows what is beyond nor understands its
application.” (p. 81, Felkin’s Translation.) Again, ‘‘ Human
nature, which appears to be suited for the most diverse conditions,
is of so general a character that its special determination and develop-
ment is entirely left to the race. The ship, constructed and arranged
with highest art, that it may be able to adapt itself to every change
of wind and wave, only awaits the steersman to direct it to its goal,
and guide its voyages according to circumstances. We know our
aim. Nature does much to aid us, and humanity has gathered much
on the road she has already traversed ; it is our task to join them
together.” (p. 136.) But on the other hand, Herbart guards himself
against being supposed to undervalue Experience and Intercourse.
**Who can dispense with Experience and Intercourse in education ?
To do so would be to dispense with daylight and content ourselves
with candlelight! Fulness, strength, individual definiteness in all
our presentations, practice in the application of the general, contact
with the real, with the country and the age, patience with men as they
are—all this must be derived from those original sources of mental
life.” (p. 137.)
LETTER XXX. 191

ducing presentation P (XXV., XXVI_) first, before
everything else, in the pupil’s circle of experience,
We will hope that you will find there not only one
but several excellent examples of P, otherwise we
cannot effect much. All those leading presentations
of the pupil, which are blended with long series of
other weaker presentations, come under this heading,
as well as all those which are important as centres
and turning points for his other thoughts, and all
those which home-sickness calls up in him if he has
been long absent from home.

The above-mentioned! 7, 7’, 7”, and so on, are parts
or remainders of those P’s, and the greater the better,
for it is well known that they are the real forces in
reproductions. But now both formule and investi-
gations teach, that the a, 7, 7”, ete, with which
they are combined, ought not to be too great as com-
pared with the 7’s; and, moreover, that in the case

1 The P’s here represent the leading presentations already possessed
by the child. The greater their number, the richer the mental
content. They constitute the apperceiving factor, for it is with parts
of them (r, 7”, etc.) that the new knowledge (7, 7’, etc.) must be
combined if it is ever to be reproduced. Example: If P=concept
of the Roman kings, every one of the names of the kings (7, 7’,
mw”) must be combined with the concept clearly and definitely, if
the series is to succeed. Again, in learning the members of the class
triangle; the concept,—a three-sided figure, bounded by straight lines,
—must combine with each addition to the series, right angled, obtuse,
etc., the 7, m’, w”, etc., of the formula. This passage also shows
the importance of establishing firm connections between the new know:
ledge and the already familiar subjects of thought. For example, the
scenery round the pupil’s home, especially if rich in historical
associations, furnishes a valuable series of P's. Expeditions of various

kinds,—geological, botanical, archeological, etc., also help materially
in enlarging the store of factors for apperception,
192 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

of decreasing 7’s the series of the w’s must not
likewise decrease, but must rather grow if the re-
production is to succeed.1

To what does this refer? Doubtless to that instruc-
tion, which we build on experience as on a necessary

1 As the new structure,—here the 7’s which represent the names
of the kings,—rises into prominence, the r’s, or remainders of the
old presentation P (i.e., the concept Roman kings) retire more into
the background. The fact that this general concept is to some extent
dim in consciousness should not involve the destruction of the series,
The 7’s have done their work, and the 7’s ought now to increase
in independent strength. As the next paragraph shows, Herbart
strongly opposed that educational theory which limited the pupil to
his own narrow experience. The child of the nineteenth century has
a right to reap the benefits of his forefather’s struggles; the heirs
of the ages should not be deprived of their inheritance. Rather are
they to be ‘‘led back by the life thread” of their seniors, for there
is no reason why we should repeat “from the beginning the succession
of evils already overcome.”

In a fine though somewhat difficult passage in the Science of
Education, on the office of a true teacher, Herbart brings this out
more clearly.

“A young man who is susceptible to the charm of ideas, who has
the conception of education in all its beauty and all its greatness
before his eyes, and who is not afraid to resign himself for » time
to numberless alternations of hope and doubt, despair and joy,—such
a man can undertake the task of training up a boy in the environment
of actuality to a nobler life, provided always that he possesses mental
force and science to apprehend and represent this actuality as, from
the point of view of humanity, only a fragment of the great whole.
He will then say of his own accord, that not he, but the whole power
of what humanity has felt, experienced, and thought, is the true
and right educator, to which the boy is entitled, and that the teacher
is given to him merely that he may help him by intelligent inter-
pretation and elevating companionship. Thus to present the whole
treasure of accumulated research in a concentrated form to the
youthful generation is the highest service which mankind at any
period of its existence can render to its successors, be it as teaching
or as warning.”
LETTER XXX. 193

foundation. Thus, for example, instruction in foreign
languages pre-supposes, above everything, a great
familiarity with the mother tongue, if such fatal
confusion is not to arise as is found among children,
who chatter Low German and High German, or French
and German mixed up together, before they possess
a proper knowledge of their native language; or,
as I once found in a young Englishman, who, having
been placed as a child in a German school, learnt
there the very worst German, and, in the meantime,
almost forgot his English; so that, finally, he could
not be instructed in any language, until, by special
care, his English had been partially set right.

But our consideration goes further! It tells us that,
generally, whenever it is a question of enlarging the
circle of thought, «2, of learning in the widest sense of
the word, certain strong points of support must be

1 Herbart is here emphasizing certain important points in his
doctrine of apperception, when especially applied to the reproduction
of a series. An example may make this clearer. We wish a class
to learn the succession of events, which took place during the reign
of Edward VI. These are represented by the , 7’, 7” of the
formula. What can we find to serve as our series of P’s, that is, our
series of leading presentations, already possessed by the children,
which shall serve as ‘‘strong points of support,” and with which
we must combine the new information? Everything here of course
depends on the teacher’s knowledge of his pupil’s circle of thought ;
still, with a fairly advanced class, some such arrangement as the
following might suffice :—The problems left over from the last reign
had to be solved in some way by the two successive Protectors, Somerset
and Northumberland. The children will probably be eager to furnish
details on such points as the social, religious, and political difficulties
of the time. From their knowledge, the teacher can easily select
facts, (represented in the formula by 7, 7’, 7”, etc., the remainders of
the P’s), which will readily combine with the new information. For

N
194 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

first. established, and then the connecting knowledge
should be added, if possible, in small quantities, though,
at the same time, in the closest possible sequence,
without forming long series. Why is this? Firstly,
the 7’s should not be greater than is necessary.
There should be no large masses, only small portions
of the connected wholes. Secondly, they should be
combined with the largest possible remainders of the
leading presentations, (the P’s); a thing which could
not succeed, if these, just now called into prominence,
had managed to sink during fairly long time intervals;
hence the series of the 7’s must form a close sequence
in order to combine with the largest possible 7, 7’, 7”,
ete. Thirdly, the series ought not to be long, for the
same reason, because the longer they are, the deeper

example, the social distress will lead up to the story of the rebellions;
the religious difficulties, to the organization of the Church, and the
work of Cranmer, and so on.

On three points Herbart lays special stress, First, the new inform-
ation should not be too extensive ; too many details are fata] to all
clearness in reproduction. Second, it should be combined with as
much as possible of that which is already known. Third, the different
series of new events, to be combined with each of the old leading
presentations, must not be too long; in this case we must not expect
a too detailed account of the rebellions to be securely reproduced by
means of our older concept, (¢.¢., social trouble).

The danger is lest in the mass of facts, the pupil should lose sight
of the leading thought; (the P must not have sunk too deeply).
Lastly, in the building up of any series, the skill of the teacher is
shown in finding a happy medium between two extremes. If the
members are too sharply separated, 7.¢., if the arrest between the
presentations is too strong, the structure tends to collapse, or in this
case, the connection between the events is lost sight of, through
the abruptness of the thought transitions. On the other hand, if
the members run into each other too much, clearness is lost, and
interest flags for lack of any sharp outlines,
LETTER XXX. 195

will the leading presentation P have sunk. This,
however, is purely relative; for if the leading pre-
sentation P is firmly held in consciousness, so that
it only sinks very gradually, it may serve as an
adequate support for a much longer series than if
the opposite is the case. Moreover, it is evident that
the degrees of arrest of individual members must not
be so great as to bring about the collapse of a structure
which is in course of erection; however, if only the
series could shape itself connectedly, its reproduction
at the end of the series group, simply through arrest
of single members amongst each other, would be so
much the more clever; hence the latter is rather to
be sought for than avoided, if it be not carried too
far.?

Would you recognize in these characteristics any of
the methods of narration proper to Homer or Herodotus?
It is probably too soon yet, however, to remind you of
the classical Art of Discourse; for, so far, the investi-
gation is wanting in too many points to give a
psychological account of it.

But there is certainly no lack of illustrations of the
opposite case. Such arise everywhere where the earlier
instruction has accumulated mistakes. How often
unskilful tutors fail to connect their teaching with
that which has a firm basis in the pupil’s circle of

1 There should not be such opposition among the presentations
themselves, that the mind fails to form a connected whole, so that
the structure collapses in isolated fragments. But, on the other
hand, it would be a clever result, if the presentations were arranged

to follow each like the dissolving scenes in a magic-lantern, one
member overpowering and arresting the next in orderly succession,
196 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

experience. How often, without suitable analysis, do
they cram in at once whole masses of unfamiliar things,
or else neglect to bring their own words into a coherent
flow. How often, even in their teaching, do they fail
to make sufficiently sure of certain leading points,
whereon that which follows may rest, and with which
it may be combined; and just as often we find as the
product of such treatment, incapacity for reproduction,
even in clever children. The streams of knowledge
have mingled confusedly with each other, and whilst
we wish to make further progress, we mourn over the
lack of thorough preparatory training.

But at this point the question arises, how far we
have availed ourselves of the external action of the
pupil, and his dexterity in it? And, first of
all, how far we have induced the pupil to speak
and express himself in the lesson; for it is well
known that instruction which makes the pupil dumb—
as in the lecture-room of a professor—is worthless in
early youth. Altogether the bodily activity of the
pupil should be utilized as much as possible; he him-
self should be made to open the book, point out, prove,
construct whatever can be so treated, so long as we
cannot depend upon his inner mental activity.
LETTER XXXI.

The simultaneous rise of presentations which have blended, as con-
trasted with those whose whole movement depends on what is left
of a presentation reproducing them—Examples of the former are
to be seen in the study of a subject, spontaneously continued ; of
the latter, in its immediate abandonment when lessons are finished
—In all a circle of thought is eventually formed in which they
are spontaneously active in feeling, thinking, and willing, and in
this comparatively small circle of spontaneity, the life-principles
of the individual have their basis.

T the sight of such familiar things many an one

might ask “Is that all?” “Are Psychological
calculations to take us no further than to a repetition
of that which every experienced practical teacher
already knows ?”

Would that such knew it and acted in accordance
therewith! But whilst you will excuse my basing the
proof of the truth of my psychological investigation
on well-known educational maxims, you, my dear
friend, may yet be conscious of certain more serious
doubts. Is then the foregoing sketch correct? Does
all reproduction depend on one single leading presenta-
tion? And is this leading presentation always to be
looked upon as the first term of a series? Where,
then, is the construction mentioned earlier? Does all
real construction indeed proceed from one single point,

like the now antiquated philosophy of Fichte ?
197
198 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

Suppose you are inclined to question me thus, my
first refuge would be easily found in the reminder
that I have promised nothing of a complete character.

However, since both of us would willingly avoid
onesidedness, and since the line of thought thus far,
about series formation, might really lead to a serious
defect of this kind, prepare yourself now to see some-
thing different, although still most incomplete.

The investigation of the presentations rising simul-
taneously, (in the supplement to XXII), gives rise to
the question whether a blending could take place
among freely-rising presentations, by means of which
an order and sequence of ascent might be formed in
proportion to its degree. This would furnish the
counterpart to the earlier conception of the subject,
according to which the presentations brought into
prominence do not rise freely; but whilst their own
energy is hindered in its rise by arrest, their whole
movement depends on what is left of a presentation
reproducing them. At this point there occur to us,
old practitioners in teaching, many subjects which
pupils only study just so long, and so far, as they are
set as lessons; in such a case the free rise of presen-
tations, and therefore spontaneous culture and construc-
tion, are not to be thought of. But whether our pupils
fare well or ill, a circle of thought is at last formed in
them in which they are spontaneously active in feeling,
thinking, and willing; whence also external action
receives its determination. Even the most learned
man has the greater part of his knowledge in books, or
in that which, as we say, is stored in his memory, and
LETTER XXXI. 199

the thought of it only rises in him when specially
called forth. But not all knowledge can thus be a
mere storehouse, for if it were so, there would be no
life-principle forthcoming, on which the use of the
storehouse and its leading tendencies depend. We
will now examine the comparatively small circle
wherein spontaneity has its seat, to see whether
even there series culture might take place.
Lerrer XXXII.

Connection between Memory, Imagination, and Belief—Original
imagination works up the old materials of Memory and ends in
belief, in so far as observation and experience do not give rise
to opposition—Imagination, traced back to the blended pre-
sentations which rise simultaneously, and then hover up
into consciousness as if they were those of the objects of
experience—Frequent determination of mental individuality by
physical structure, through organic irritability giving rise to
habitual emotions—Importance of the educational consideration
of children’s imagination: (i.) Early products of imagination
dislodged by new fancies ; (ii) Importance of the child’s discrimi-
nation, by means of external activity, between illusions and objects
of experience ; (iii.) Basis of belief in most men; a thing is per-
ceptible to their senses, and its existence is attested with emphasis
by others—Reason: Lack of imagination, capable of creating a
really finished product; hence such often obtain ‘‘belief”
second-hand ; (iv.) All men have imagination of some kind in
the circle of freely-rising presentations—In the Savage and the
Egotist only such as concern very narrow interests attain free
movement ; (v.) Importance of observing children in very early
years, not waiting till the period of youth, when the freely-rising
presentations may be obscured by other activities ; (vi.) Danger of
the pressure of instruction preventing the formation of the images
of imagination—Element of truth in the accusation, “The more
school, the less imagination in an age.”

T the present moment where are we, my dear
friend? I think we are in the region of Imagina-

tion and Belief, because familiar names must at least
be mentioned, that we may find our bearings according

to the compass of the old, so-called, empirical Psycho-
200
LETTER XXXII. 201

logy. We have not thus, to be sure, forsaken the
sphere of memory; on the contrary, it appeared from
the calculation that even the presentations which rise
freely, preserve, to a great extent, an analogy with
reproduction, according to the time succession of the
materials of experience. And however varied, and
even fastastic, the creations of imagination may often
be, the new is always made up of old materials, and
every such bit of material contains a quantity of the
smallest fragments of presentations, which have been
moved little, or not at all, from their old places, and
thus indeed still bear the stamp of memory; hence
Imagination, even if it were of a higher nature than
memory, should not despise the important services of
the latter.

But how does Belief come to be side by side with
Imagination? Am I to expect objections from you at
this point? On the contrary, that mythological learn-
ing, in which you are far my superior, would correct
me, if I had not been warned often enough already,
by calculation and educational experience, not to con-
sider the imagination of the modern novelist as an
original soul faculty. He, who intentionally, and with
his eyes open, invents something, must certainly speak
falsely for a long time before he succeeds in believ-
ing his own tales. On the other hand, the original
imaginative power naturally ends in belief, in so far as
observation and experience do not give rise to opposi-
tion. The last words of the preceding paragraph speak
clearly enough, I hope, of the product, in which the
continuous blending of the presentations which rise
202 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION,

freely often ends! This product is a necessity, in
so far as the circle of presentations, whence it origi-
nates, is a closed one, and the inducement to a free rise
is renewed often enough, and with such variety, that
anything which can arise out of the presentations
furnished may do so. When this product hovers into

1 On the difficult subject of the nature of belief we may compare
Prof. Ward’s views (Encyclopedia Brit., Article on Psychology). He
identifies Belief in its simplest form with mere apprehension ; when
we perceive, remember clearly, or judge without hesitation, we are
laid hold of (as it were) by the fact or representation, and make
no struggle against it. ‘‘There is no conflict of impressions. You
cannot doubt, you see, when the sun shines. Doubt begins with the
presence of rival impressions. Hence children are less critical than
adults ; dreamers than those awake. When we say, ‘I believe A is
B,’ we mean that the proposition takes hold of us, impresses itself
as vividly, overbears rival suggestions as convincingly as do the ohjects
of actual perception.” The question of Belief seems to resolve
itself into a peculiar case of what other psychologists have called
inseparable Association. James S. Mill says: ‘‘ When two or more
ideas have been often repeated together, and the Association has
become very strong, they sometimes spring up in such close combina-
tion as not to be distinguishable.” ‘‘ When impressions have been so
often experienced in conjunction that each of them calls up readily
and instantaneously the ideas of the whole group, those ideas some-
times melt and coalesce into one another, and appear not several
ideas but one.” These words explain the peculiar connection
between belief and decisive action. If Doubt has been shown to
be crippling and disintegrating, frittering away the soul’s strength
in the strife of presentations, and preventing the formation of the
very means of attaining desire, Belief, on the other hand, is the
integrating power, welding together ‘unbroken masses of presen-
tations,’ and giving almost incredible energy to action. We are
reminded of the psychological truth underlying the words, ‘ This
is the victory which overcometh the world, even your Faith.” The
question of the basis and ‘‘foundations of Belief” is of course
another subject of the deepest importance; here we would merely
lay stress on the fact of its extraordinary power.
LETTER XXXII. 203

consciousness like the presentations of the objects
of experience, it is considered a reality, even as that
which is heard and seen; or, in other words, it is
believed. The myths and legends of every nation
form on a large scale such a complete or nearly com-
plete product, which only partially lends itself to
intentional embellishment.

But we are not now speaking of nations, but of
children. There is no need to enlarge here on the
necessity of religious instruction for them, and indeed
for any age, just in proportion as they are in danger
of creating something else idolatrous by their own
imagination, No one doubts this, and you least of all

Even with little children, as soon as they can speak,
we often notice with astonishment, sometimes with
anxiety, how they not only talk imaginatively, as if
quite removed from the circle of experience, but also
even laugh and cry in their fancied joy and sorrow.
For organic irritability has a share in this, and many an
emotion forms for itself a channel, like a spring feeding
a stream, which at last, mingled with other streams,

1 Man is indeed innately religious. His very reason, as Herbart
shows, at its highest development, leads him into the presence of
a great Unknown God, ‘in whom we live and move and have our
being.” ‘‘Sympathy with the universal dependence of men is the
essential natural principle of all religion. We must direct the pupil’s
eyes where human beings express the feelings of their limitations, and
point out to him every piece of arrogance as a false and dangerous
imagination of strength. . . . Above all, the mind must keep
Sabbath in religion. It should turn to it for rest from all thoughts,
desires, cares.” Science of Education, pp. 171-175. It is more
natural to be an idolater than an atheist. (See also Introduction,
pp. xliv., xlv.)
204 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

grows into a mighty river. This is the source which
produces and determines mental individuality through
the physical structure.

However, the earliest products of the imagination
do not long remain objects of belief; in healthy minds
they are thrust back by experience, and almost com-
pletely dislodged by new fancies. The ten-year-old
boy already speaks laughingly of what he quite
believed when he was little. He does not know how
often in time to come, he will become greater
and wiser in his own eyes Successions of fresh
imaginative structures are built one on the top of
another, and not infrequently form a volcanic founda-
tion, whose eruptions are destined to throw everything
into confusion.

The danger decreases in proportion as the boy, when
no longer a child, tells himself it is play, when he gives
himself up to illusions, but that, on the contrary, it
is a serious occupation if he is handling an object
of experience, which will teach him by good or bad
effects. Here we come to the highly-important
reciprocal action between inner activity, 2.e., Imagin-
ation, whereby the man lays the foundation of his
mental personality, and external activity, by which

1 But as life advances, the wiser among us realize this fact. For
mental vision strengthens, as the dim vistas of knowledge beyond and
above us open out, and we realize how short and insignificant is the
path already traversed. The consciousness of the limitations of the
human mind and the majesty of Truth, the hope of future develop-
ment and clearer light, make great men humble. It was « Newton
who felt that all his life he had been as a child picking up pebbles on

the shore of the great ocean of Truth; and it was a Goethe whose
dying words were so significant, ‘‘ Mehr Licht.”
LETTER XXXII. 205

he first learns that he can and must be taught. The
connecting link between the two, viz., Attention, we
shall soon take into closer consideration, but a glance
back is first necessary at the individual limitations,
which have so often before occupied us.

Most men believe that which is said to them with
emphasis, and which is made perceptible to the senses.
Why? The first answer is that they have no imagina-
tion which is capable of creating a finished product.t
But what then does it mean to possess or to want
Imagination? We saw in the previous letter that
presentations, rising simultaneously, blend the more
completely the oftener they rise, and that they
construct a series-like whole the more certainly, the
more they blend. The images of imagination are
nothing but the representation of such blended pre-
sentations. Therefore everyone has imagination in the
circle of his freely-rising presentations, if there is no
hindrance there. The Imagination of the merchant
may certainly be different to that of a shepherd or
a soldier, but the difference in subject, in accordance
with occupation, explains neither the strength nor
the weakness.”

It is a matter of course that freely-rising presenta-

1 If they had sufficient Imagination, Herbart seems to imply, they
would not thus so readily take their beliefs second-hand. The firm
blending of the presentations is thus effected for them by external
influences. Their own presentation store is not sufficiently flexible to
form the necessary new combinations, without external assistance.

2 That is, imagination in different individuals naturally differs
widely in range of subject, but these peculiarities in no way explain

the remarkable variations as to strength and energy which likewise
appear.
206 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

tions do exist. Most animals appear determined to
such an extent by bodily conditions that they only
rarely represent anything different from that which lies
in the circle of their momentary desires and emotions.
The lazy savage who idly rests as soon as he is satisfied
differs from them but little. And the perfect Egotist
—what other presentations attain free movement in
him, beside those which concern his narrow interests ?
Out of these his thoughts are formed, and this is the
authority which permits no unprofitable arts to thrive
under its sway.t

If anyone desires educational observation, he must,
above all, observe children in their early years, when
the rule of determined Egotism has not yet established
itself. At this time also they practise the least con-
cealment, their speech and action are the immediate
expression of their fancies. If impartial and accurate
observations of that early age were passed on to the
tutors of later years, we should then see more easily
and more certainly what was to be expected from the
pupil’s disposition and activity. Instead of this, that
observation which can be attempted by the tutor of
the growing boy is for a long time concentrated on his
more or less successful appropriation of the new,
furnished by instruction; but it is years before freely-
rising presentations are visible in the sphere of teach-
ing and learning. The greater part even of that which
is well learnt does not for a long time rise in conscious-
ness without books and questions. That is why the pupil
is quite different at home from what he is at school.

1 That is, no arts which do not further his own narrow interests.
LETTER XXXII 207

Please notice the beginning of the supplement to
the previous letter. In the case when we can least
of all trace the influence of any dominant presenta-
tions, or find any analogy with memory, where freedom
and equality reign among the presentations, do we
there see single ones aroused dependent on others?
No, they come in a mass, and not until they are already
in full consciousness do they receive form. What is
then the result if any foreign pressure,—whether it
be the earlier oft-mentioned physiological hindrance,
or the authority of a teacher, or any social influence
whatever,—should hinder the final development of the
presentations, which so far have risen together in a
mass? Naturally, structure will be lacking, and the
individual becomes so much the less himself the more
a strange form is forced upon him, or even merely
provided. Let us not hide from ourselves the fact
that the more there is of the school, the less there is
of imagination in the age, and the more models, the
less individual production. And then people complain
how wearisome a thing is, which is always monotonously
repeating itself.

Many have found less of the school-room with me
than they expected. Why? Because I wished to
leave men as much of their own individuality as
possible. The more pity if under such treatment but
little develops from within. But once and for all
I object to that instruction which hinders rather than
furthers free presentations.
Lerrer XXXIII.

Apperceiving attention, as the co-operation of imagination and the
sensitive faculty—Reciprocal action of the presentations freely
rising and sinking, when the attentive pupil responds to Instruc-
tion—Presentations which rise freely; points to notice, (1) The con-
cept of a free rise is only relative, and is always limited by (a) the
environment, (b) the physical condition—(2) To explain apperceiv-
ing attention, we presuppose objects which offer themselves to
observation ; by observation is here meant the perception of a
certain object in preference to others, whereby it is identified as
one particular thing and no other—(3) Some presentations, though
nearly rising, fail to come into full consciousness, because the
object which nearly reproduces them is too transitory, and its
presentation runs on into a Jong series—If the same object, how-
ever, is again presented, apperceiving observation begins at once ;
the dissimilar is repressed, and the old presentation springs up
freely—(4) Limitations of apperceiving observation ; (a) power
of preconceived ideas to fill out onesided perception ; (6) com-
plexity in the apperceiving presentation, so that the whole result
depends on its structure and blendings ; (c) dependence of apper-
ceiving observation on the relation between the shape assumed by
the arching, and that of the sense perception; if the former is
dominant the observation may be misleading ; if mental practice
has already provided a correct shape for the observation, then the
perception will be in accordance with reality ; (d) importance of
a manysided observation, one perception beginning where another
ends, as when a child turns a thing over, touches it, ete. ;
(e) Effect of a physiological hindrance ; cases approaching idiocy
—lack of apperception not always to be ascribed to this, since
new surroundings may at first oppress the dull boy, and teaching
may improve the ignorant one.

T is absolutely necessary, (and can certainly be
carried out with your consent), that we should go
somewhat more deeply into Psychology than could be

done in previous letters. What is more important to
208
LETTER XXXII. 209

the educationalist than attention? I have only just
touched on this before, and then not at all on volun-
tary, nor even on original attention, which was the
subject of my treatise, De attentionis mensura; the only
kind discussed was that which is apperceptive, which
to the practical teacher is, if possible, even more im-
portant than the other two.

But apperceiving attention is a combination of
imagination, which works from within, and the
sensation coming in with external impressions. In
other words, there appears in it a reciprocal action
between the freely-rising presentations, and those
which become part of the subsidence up to complete
arrest. We attend for the sake of the apperception
of the object, which, left to itself, would have been
forgotten. This is what happens if the attentive pupil
responds to the instruction, or even to the objects of
experience which are provided for him. His questions
show his imagination, which, however, does not remain
free, or form any finished products, but rather submits
to instruction for correction and extension. Anyone
but you, my friend, might object: the pupil who
questions is not imagining, he is thinking. But surely
you will not make such a distinction. If the thoughts
of imagination could not take the form of concepts
and judgments, where would Poetry be ?

Before entering further into the investigation, let us
consider what presentations are actually to be regarded
as rising freely. Let us suppose for once an impossible
case in human life, viz., that no environment of sense
impressions, no emotion arising from physical con-

0
210 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

ditions, no foreign determination of any kind mingled
with the action and counter-action of the presentations;
then all the existing presentations in the completely
isolated soul would gradually pass into equilibrium
with each other; they would thus, as it were, try each
other’s strength, and the strongest, together with their
associates, would become dominant. Such a thing does
not happen in our present state. The bodily condition
and the environment always cause definite limitation,
whereby masses of presentations of various kinds are
prevented from rising freely. Hence that pressure is
absent, which these excluded presentations would have
been able to exercise if it had only depended on their
strength. Thus the store of presentations, which at
present suffer from no common hindrance, now begin
to move,—the greater number, which, as it were, strive
to rise, attain imperceptibly a very low maximum,
because the sum of arrest, arising from themselves,
quickly accumulates and immediately presses them
back. Nevertheless, by their united activity they have
an important influence on the physical condition, which
they determine in their own way even more than
before. Meanwhile something happens in the environ-
ment; the different objects which are seen and heard
press more or less forward, and in their pressure are
more or less fluctuating. Hence there arise transient
partial arrests, within the constant general sphere of
arrest which belongs to the whole environment; thus
many presentations, which were on the point of rising,
are detained on the mechanical threshold,! (you know

1 See note on page 151.
LETTER XXXIIL 211

from the Psychology what that means). But after a
short time they come forward with their associates, in
the rhythm which is determined by blending and
complexity.

This is only the background for a picture which we
have now to sketch. The first point to notice is how
relative the concept of freely-rising presentations is.
For the strength, presupposed as a condition of free-
dom, is not absolute individual strength; the circum-
stances, which determine it, receive a preliminary
limitation from the surroundings, and the physical
condition, which remove the influence of very many
other presentations. Hence work succeeds in the
study which is impossible in company. As you know,
there are people who require dressing-gown and pipe
to come to their assistance if they are to do any
scientific thinking. Not quite such an extreme case
is that of one of my pupils who was to have done
some cubic equations in the holidays, and acknow-
ledged on his return that it might be possible with
me, but was not so in his father’s house. For our
purpose, z¢, to explain apperceiving and conscious
observation (Merken), we must presuppose objects
which offer themselves to be observed. What does
this observation (Bemerken) mean? As we do not
wish to speak now of original attention, ze, of the
possibility that our presentation process may receive
additions without regard to apperception, we denote
here by the word observation that activity, pressing
up from within, by which a certain object is perceived
in preference to all others presenting themselves at the
212 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

same time, so that the perception of it attains greater
strength and longer duration,—that the object is identi-
fied as one particular thing and no other, and may
often, though not always, receive praise or blame.
Every change and movement is thus noticed, and
consequently every variation of the object in itself
is perceived with special accuracy: even comparison
with other similar and earlier perceptions suggests itself.
Such an observation is, moreover, favoured by previous
announcement or description, whereby expectation
prepares the way. All this shows that here repro-
duction of older and similar presentations is at work.
This reproduction might little enough satisfy the
concept of keen attention, if it were merely that
discussed in the Psychology, concerning which you
will remember I stated, that it takes place at first
in proportion to the square, or, still more often, the
cube of the time. And though we may often be
glad in our lessons, if even such conscious observation
(Merken) accompanies our discourse, it will yet cause
no intellectual sparks at which a light could be kindled.
But it is to these freely-rising presentations that
we must turn. You may well ask, “Do then the
presentations which rise freely wait till they are
reproduced?” I answer this by another reference
to the mechanical threshold. Many a presentation
nearly rises, but does not actually do so, because
the passing presentation, which came into conscious-
ness from the outside or even from within, although
unstable if taken singly, runs on into such a long
series, that the mechanical threshold apparently
LETTER XXXIII. 213

changes into a statical one. But if the familiar
object, whose presentation nearly came forward,
presents itself again, the process of apperceiving
observation begins.

It begins, since the reproduced presentation, already
perhaps called back into consciousness by previous
expectation, now springs up freely, and whilst it unites
with what is of a similar character, it forcibly presses
back that which is dissimilar. This repression of other
ideas, presenting themselves just as forcibly at the
same time, is characteristic of apperceiving observa-
tion. In this consists the raising, freeing, and isolating
of the object of attention, and the singling it out from
among its associates and surroundings.

This accounts at once for the keen perception of the
smallest change, if the object moves or deviates from
its earlier appearance. It is the struggle of the re-
produced presentation, with the one which arises from
what is now presented.

However, this requires explanation. We first notice
that apperceiving observation is limited, as we know
from experience. The tyrant, who is vain and intoxi-
cated by his own greatness, does not see the signs
of approaching danger. The author, when he answers
criticisms, shows how accurately he can pick out the
few words of praise from adverse reviews, and our
pupils notice the smallest token of approbation,
whereas blame scarcely reaches their ears. Parents
see genius in their sons, and are blind to their faults.
In bygone ages people really saw the images of the
gods blink and shake their heads. Apperceiving
214 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

observation indulges in such tricks in order to fill
out onesided perception. If now, on the other hand,
the sensitive man cannot bear the slightest doubt cast
on his character; if the grammarian finds fault with
every unusual expression; if the hypochondriac, even
when surrounded by friends, hears all kinds of voices,
which mock and insult him: what is the difference in
the apperception? In any case such an one betrays
that the apperceiving presentation was not simple,
and that the whole result depends on its structure,
together with the blendings whereon this structure
rests.1_ Not only is single reproduction necessary for
actual observation, but also that arching already
described, which, however, we shall here have occasion
to define somewhat more in detail. For the shape of
the uniform arching might seldom be strictly adapted
to apperceiving observation; the mathematical con-
sideration has already led us to a more distinct idea,
We saw that the freely-rising presentations, owing to
their blending, strive to shape themselves on definite
lines. Now this form, originating in the inner world,
is met by another independent of it, that is, the form
of the sense perception. The result depends on the
relation between these two. If the inner form is
dominant the observation will be onesided, defective,
or quite misleading. But if, on the other hand, mental
practice of various kinds, which has taken place earlier,
provides such and such a shape for the observation,
then the outside object is perceived, distinguished,
fixed, and impressed as it is in reality, and not

? See Introduction. Apperception, p, Ixiv.
LETTER XXXIII. 215

otherwise. The manysidedness of the observation
is of great importance here. It consists in this, that
it depends on another apperception beginning when
one ends, the new one proceeding from other points
of the object; as when a boy twists and turns a
new thing in every direction, examines its movement,
tosses it about and so on. This points also to an
earlier series formation, in consequence of which a
reverse is added and presupposed to the obverse, an
interior to the surface, possible movements of many
kinds to that which is in a stable position. The boy,
if he uses his hands and senses thus, does actually the
same as the chemist, who submits a new mineral to
a series of tests with all the effective re-agents known
to him. The whole of the difference here lies in the
apperceiving masses of presentation; on the other
hand, the apperception, as regards its form, is the same.

And what if the physiological hindrance, already
discussed so often, comes in even here? Then we
get cases which approach idiocy. Only every dull
boy is not an imbecile, and every ignorant one is not
therefore incapable. That may remind us of the dif-
ferent causes that may underlie the lack of the wished-
for apperception. New surroundings are sufficient to
oppress the dull boy; when he has become accustomed
to them he will not only apperceive, but will even
speak and act according to his apperception. The
ignorant will become capable of apperception as soon
as he learns properly, and by learning procures the
apperceiving presentations.
LEetTeR XXXIV.

(i.) Association of apperceiving attention with external action, ¢.g.,
in shaping something, the interaction between the observation of
growing work and the mental image of what it is to be; (ii)
Character of memorizing as the placing of weak presentations
securely into a new combination.—Example: In language teaching
new words or parts of words are presented, and fitted into
sentence combinations sufficiently durable to be reproduced—
Conditions of memorizing: («) That the presentations should
not rise too high in consciousness, lest they form a too great
sum of arrest; (b) That they should not spread over too wide
an area, lest they should lead to yielding to the ‘‘train of one’s
own thoughts”; (c) That the subjects should be treated as a
matter of indifference for fear of the emotions aroused; (d)
That they should not follow each other too slowly or too
quickly ; (iii.) A brilliant memory to be ascribed to some
active organic co-operation, possibly by fixing the weaker pre-
sentations in certain positions, and blending them in longer series
than could be effected by the psychical mechanism alone ; (iv.)
Uncertainty of the relation in which memory may stand to the
rest of mental capacity—Memory without intellect or taste ; its
uselessness.

RE we, I wonder, now approaching a psychological
knowledge of the condition, in which pupils and
students generally find themselves, and shall we thus
be able to discern the differences which arise? Let
us attempt it.
As far as circumstances permit, outward action is
always bound up with apperceiving attention. The
least of such actions is speech, when reasons for

reserve are not at work; but running, throwing,
216
LETTER XXXIV. 217

fetching, even sending for things, fishing and shoot-
ing also come in here, and in the same way all the
delight in gymnastic exercise. The pleasure also
which we take in handling any material to make it
into some shape, depends on the interaction between
the observation of the growing work and its progress
as regards the mental image, which indicates what it
is to be.

Our pupils, however, do not realize the vastness of
this concept. The work and the worker mutually
limit each other. If a boy is aware of his own skill
he is full of activity; in cases where he feels no natural
aptitude he may be just as listless. If the youths’
heads are filled with hunting, or the boys’ with con-
juring exhibitions and tight-rope dancing, there is
nothing much generally to be done with them.

And what will be the result of the lessons? Here
those boys distinguish themselves who have a good
memory. What is this memory ?

You will say to me at once: it also is a kind of
apperceiving Observation. But what kind? Is it
the result of presentations which rise freely? How
could that be possible in subjects which did not pre-
suppose very considerable previous knowledge? Those
are rare occasions on which the pupil brings forward
questions; how could he do it with foreign languages,
facts, dates, even mathematical formule? These latter
show the case most clearly. The young man to whom
I have to-day demonstrated a new proposition, under-
stands me so perfectly that one might have thought
he had apperceived it by means of freely-rising
218 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

presentations; perhaps he succeeds in repeating what
has been learnt even after the lapse of some hours, but
when a week has gone by he scarcely knows what it
was all about. Where are the freely-rising presenta-
tions? It is fortunate if a connecting link of any
such value may here and there be left for use,
perhaps in the case of examples.

But that activity of the pupil which we call
committing to memory, which is of such importance
in instruction, and which, when achieved with facility,
generally constitutes the brilliant memory, cannot be
explained by the presence of freely-rising presenta-
tions; rather, indeed, is it due to their absence, for
they disturb memorizing. Most people are too im-
patient to leave time for that other reproduction,
which rises up from the statical threshold, to fit
weak presentations securely into a new combination.
And yet this is just what constitutes committing
to memory. The teacher or the book presents words
which are already known singly, or, if not the whole
words, parts of them, «¢, isolated speech sounds.
These presentations, weak in themselves, are now
brought into new combinations, and the combinations
must be sufficiently durable to present themselves
again, unimpaired, if required. Here consciousness
presents itself to us as a plain whereon grow certain
little plants; high mountains and deep rivers should
not be near them, unless a new energy, voluntary

1 That is, the youth who has forgotten the Euclid proposition
completely, may yet have some remnants of connecting links left in
his mind, which can be used as illustrations afterwards.
LETTER XXXIV. 219

attention, of which we have not yet spoken, comes
to the assistance of reproduction.!

Committing to memory does not at all require that
single presentations should rise high in consciousness. If
they did this, they would form a greater sum of arrest:
they would even spread over a wide area on account
of their earlier associations, whereas nothing is really
more detrimental to memory than yielding to the
train of one’s own thoughts. Even the subject must
be an object of indifference, or be treated as such;
the feelings which it might arouse would only do
damage. Those things which are to be remembered
must not follow each other too quickly, otherwise
the reproduction which should meet them from within
has not time to arise; they must not be given too
slowly, for then the earlier sink too low before that
which follows overtakes them.

In reading marvellous stories of those whose memory
has been trained to great perfection, one is inclined
to believe that there must be some active organic
co-operation, And in what would this co-operation
consist? Simply in maintaining that condition which
has been brought about by the presentations. Such
a view may be held without any materialistic folly.

1 This somewhat strange metaphor seems to mean that the presence
of high mountains and deep rivers, would draw attention away from
the little shrubs, unless a new energy, 7.¢., voluntary attention, comes
also into action. Therefore, in committing to memory certain facts or
words, anything of the nature of a stronger impression should be
avoided. But, if the memorizing is to succeed in spite of these
stronger impressions, the energy of voluntary attention will have to
be called in.
220 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

The influence of the soul on the body is well known;
unquestionably a definite condition of brain and nerve
corresponds to every movement of presentations. If
this by any effort can be fixed, the presentations,
which are only weakly reproduced, will maintain
themselves longer in this position, and blend in longer
series than the psychical mechanism, left to itself,
could have produced. Vice versd, the smallest hind-
rance, (arising, perhaps, through excitation of the
vascular system), which hinders reproduction, must
necessarily destroy memory.

Experience teaches that the power of committing
to memory stands in no certain relation to the other
mental capacities; hence one of the first points to
which educational observation is directed, is to ascertain
what this relation is in given individuals; to find out
the length of the series which a boy is able to retain,
how much time he requires, and how soon he forgets.
In this, however, we are in no wise investigating the
whole of what is called memory, for not everything
has to be learnt by heart in order to be for ever
understood. It would be sad if Experience, Inter-
course, Practice, and Interest, did not work more
powerfully than that. We also deceive ourselves
completely if we expect, from the mass of that which
has been committed to memory, such effects as might
spring from the same subjects, if suitable interest had
been awakened in them. Who has not known a
learning which is without intellect or taste? Yet
people allow themselves to be dazzled again and again
by the glitter of mere memory-knowledge.
Letter XXXV.

(i.) Review and summary of preceding letters—Distinction between
(a) freely-rising presentations, combined with the reception of
what is presented, and resulting in apperceiving attention ; and
(b) a reproduction from the statical threshold, (of weak pre-
sentations to be combined in new forms), resulting in memorizing ;
(ii.) Differences in pupils as regards memory and imagination—-
two classes: those who commit to memory easily, those who find
food for imagination and belief — Reflection, Feeling, and Volun-
tary Attention have not yet been discussed, because too much of
any of them should not be expected from children.

Necessity of distinguishing different temperaments among the
pupils in the schools,

OW, my good friend, I could almost promise

myself your approval of the bird’s-eye view which
you have obtained, or may easily obtain, through the
summary of what has been said.

The distinction between the freely-rising presenta-
tions on the one hand, and the reproduction from the
statical threshold on the other, was the central point
of our consideration; we combined with both the
reception of what is presented. Then in the one case
we found apperceiving attention with a double form,
and for the most part combined with external action ;
but in the other, that process of committing to memory
which has just been mentioned. Finally, in addition
to, and beyond what is provided (by the teacher), we

saw the products of Imagination of various kinds
221
222 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

stored up one above another and supported by
belief.

If you now compare this with the opposition in
youth between life out of school and in school, you will
see what contrasts exist in different natures. Healthy,
active boys go to school possibly without aversion, yet
they would rather be out of doors, each in the sphere
of his own apperceiving attention, and the external
activity which is dependent on it. Material of various
kinds is seized upon and shaped! Tennis, playing at
soldiers, hunting, riding, gymnastics,—these things
invigorate the boy. He might even be inclined to
imitate this or that mechanic, if the work were not
too slow, and did not demand too much perseverance
and accuracy. The sphere of this attention and activity
is often narrow, curious, and in any case limited: to be
constantly obliged to leave it, is generally felt as a
hardship. But the hour for study strikes, and school
work is urgent. Here two kinds of scholars may be
distinguished from the rest: those who commit to
memory easily, and those who find food for imagination
and belief. Happy is that rare pupil who combines
both.

You will now at once be conscious of a twofold
omission, #.e., of Reflection and Feeling; perhaps also
of voluntary Attention. At the same time you can
easily guess why these subjects, up to this, have
remained outside the sphere of my discussion; namely,
because we, as practical teachers, have long ago been

1 That is, the apperceiving faculty seizes upon some material, no
matter what, which it proceeds to shape in its own way.
LETTER XXXV. 223

warned not to demand too much of that which is
really the property of the adult. Little blossoms are
still green, still undeveloped, still much subject to
external influences. If the teacher forget that, if he
does not take his stand again most carefully on the
lower steps of the ladder of culture, how will he stretch
out a helping hand to youth? However, I willingly
admit that those three points must yet necessarily be
considered; but even now you cannot fail to see the
leading thought which has really occupied me for some
time. It is the question: what will become of the
schools if we do not distinguish between different
dispositions? Have we really an universal method of
education, and should we ever hope that such a thing
could be found? Or do our psychological investigations
show so many cases, wherein, through unconquerable
hindrances, a satisfactory training is prevented, and a
suitable one delayed, that we are obliged to make the
observation of different dispositions the foundation of
all practical educational activity ?

If it be most carefully determined how much a boy
of the sixth form, the fifth, the fourth, etc., must know,
do you believe that it will stand in any definite relation
to the differences already discussed in imagination,
apperceiving attention and memory, together with that
which is the outcome of it? To be sure, if the class
attainment of the fourth form were determined, the
teacher of the fifth could arrange his course of study
in accordance with it, no doubt. And if the final
examination testifies accurately enough the knowledge
of the sixth-form boy, the University Professor will
224 APPLICATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION.

understand what is to be expected from the student.
Is it really so? Is the University, forsooth, merely
a continuation of school work, a higher form, as it were;
and does that which is committed to memory really
guarantee the self-activity of the student? Ought this
really to be the case ?
GLOSSARY

Affect, emotion. See note on p. 79.

Anlage, disposition, 121.

Anschauung, perception, 178, 183, 184,

Apperzeption, apperception, 209

Auffassung, mental grasp, apprehension, 90; perception, 163.

Aufmerksamkeit, attention, 209,

Begehren, desire, 113.

Begriff, concept, 3 (sometimes in a looser sense, definition,
idea, &c.).

Bemerken, observation, 211, 217.

Bewusstseon, consciousness, 126, 188, &c.

Druck, pressure, 184.

Etgenthiimlichkett, peculiarity, 176.

Empfinglichkeit, sensitiveness, 179.

Erfahrung, experience, 190. See note.

Flach, level, 167.

Gedéchtniss, memory, 201, 217, 220.

Gefihl, feeling, 80.

Gestaltung, construction, 165.

Glauben, belief, 201.

Gleichgewicht, equilibrium, 102.

Glied, term (in a series), 180,

Handeln, action, 176, &c.

Hebung, rising, 140.

Hemmung, arrest, 165, 179, &c.

Hemmungsswmme, sum of arrest. See note on p. 116.

Trritabilitat, irritability, 49. See note on p. 28.

Letchtsinn, frivolity, 159.
P 225
226 GLOSSARY.

Memoriren, committing to memory ; memorizing, 218.
Merken, observation, 211, 212, 217.

Neugier, curiosity, 113.

Phantasie, imagination, 201.

Rethe, series, 166. .

Schwelle, threshold. See note on p, 151.
Seelenvermégen, mind faculty, 167.

Selbstthatigheit, spontaneity, 199.

Senkung, sinking, 140.

Sensibilitdt, sensibility. See note on p. 28.

Sinnlich, perceptible by the senses. See note on p. 165.
Steifheit, rigidity, 128, 187, &c.

Steil, steep, 167.

Spekulation, speculation. See note on p. 9.

Umgang, intercourse, 190. See note.

Unterricht, instruction, 7.

Verbindung, association, 122.

Vernunft, reason, 66.

Verschmelzung, blending, fusion, 198.

Vorstellung, presentation, 116. See note.

Vegetation, vegetation, 28. See note.

Verstand, understanding, 129.

Wahrnehmung, sense perception, 113.

Wolbung, vaulting, 114. See note.

Zeitmass, time measure, 140.

Zusammenhang, interconnection, 124 ; association, 129, 132.
Zuspitzung, tapering, 114. See note,
INDEX

Achilles: xcvi.

Action: lix, 176-179, 216, 183.

Aesthetic Interest: lxxxiii.

Aesthetic judgments: xxxvii-
Xxxviii, xlvii, 82, 120,

“Aesthetic revelation of the
world”: ix, xl.

African, degree of apperception
in the: lxv.

* Aim, Statement of the”: cx.

Alphabet, Origin of: lxxxix.

Analysis: cx.

Anger: 85-87, 107.

Animals, anger and fear in: 84—
87, 206,

Aphorisms on Pedagogy: lxiv.

Apperception: xlix, lxiv—lxxviii,
20, 198, 209, 215, 211, 2138-215,

Application: cxii, cxvi.

Aristotle: xxxv, lii.

Arithmetic: cix.

Arsis: 140.

Art of Discourse: 195.

Arthur, King: 1.

Association: ci, cxi.

Association, inseparable: 202.

Atheism: 203.

Attention: 205, 209.

Attention, apperceiving: 209, 216.

Attention, voluntary: 218, 219,
222.

Austen, Jane: ciii.

Bacon: xxviii, 1, 83.

Bagehot, Literary Studies: 1xxx,
Balaam: cxxii-cxxiii.
Bartolomai: xxvii,

Basedow: xxii.

 

Bede: xl.

Belief: 201-204,

Benevolence: xli.

Bentham: xxxv.

Beotian Temperament: 52-56,
122,

Boerhave: lii.

Breathing, mental: cxi.

Browning, Eliz. Barrett: 1.

Browning, Robert: xvii, xli, lxii,
10.

Bunyan: 1xi, cxxii.

Cesar: cii.

Campe: 104.

Cardanus: liii.

Carlyle, Sartor Resartus:
Ixxxv.

Categorical imperative: xxxvi-
XXxvii.

Character: lx, lxxxi,

Chaucer: cix.

Choleric temperament: 51.

Circle of Thought: lxiv, 198.

City, ideal: xliii.

Classification: exi.

Claudius, in Hamlet: xxxix.

Clearness: cx.

Clock, striking of a: 145.

Coleridge: lxxiii, lxxx, 146.

Comenius: cv.

Comparison: exv.

Concentration: x, lxxxvi, xcvii-
ev, exi, cxiv.

Concentric circles: xeviii.

Consciousness: li.

Construction: 165.

Contradictory minds: 50.

li,
228

Contrast: cxv.

Courage: 57.

Culture: xxxiv, xliii,

Culture Epochs: lxxxvii.
Curiosity: 89, 118, 114, 121, 122.
Cyrus: cii.

Dactylic metre: 146.

Dancing dervishes: lii.

Dante: xxxiv, 1, exxiv.

“De attentionis mensura”: 209.
De Garmo, Prof.: xxii, lxx.
Dejection: 1x, 1xi.

Desire: lviii, 118, 118-120, 177.
Dhammapada: exviii.
Differences, acquired: 187.
Discipline: lxiii, exvi-cxxv.
Donati, Piccarda: xxxiv, cxxiv.
Doubt: 110, 202.

Dull children: 111, 188, 215.
Duncan (in Macbeth): ci.

Eckoff, Dr.: xxvi.

Ego: liv.

Egotism: 206.

Egyptian hieroglyphics: xc, etc,
Eisenach: xxv.

Emerson: xlvi.

Emotions: lvii, 72, 79-83.
Empirical interest: lxxxiii.
Enjoyment: xxxiv.

Equity: xliii.

Ethical aim: xxxi, etc.

Ethical fall: xlvi.

Ethical standard: xliv.

Euclid: eviii.

Examinations: 11, 12, 111.
Expectation: 119.

Experience: xlix, lxxviii, 9, 190.
External Action: 189, 198, 204.
External dexterity: 176.

Faculties, soul: v, lvi, 41, 65,
67-69, 93, 105, 118.

Faith: lxiii, 202.

Family likeness: 27.

Family relationships—their im-
portance: 17, 18, 238, 25.

Fear: 85-87, 107-112.

 

INDEX.

Feeling: xxxiv, lvii, lviii, 77,
79-83, 222,

Fevers: 29, 34.

Fichte: viii, xviii, xxi, xxii, 18,
21, 197.

Fick: liv.

Flash of Light: 138.

Formal Steps: cv-cxiii.

Formulation: cxvi.

Freedom (transcendental): xxxvii.

Frivolity: Ixxxv, 156, 159-162.

Froebel: xxi.

Galahad, Sir: 1.

General Notions: 162,

Generalization: cxi.

Geography: cix.

Geometry: cix.

Glayre: ev.

Gloucester, in King Lear: 1xi.

Goethe: xxix, xxxii, lii, liii, lxv,
lxxxvii, exii, 204.

Government: lxiii, cxvi-cxxv.

Griepenkerl, F. K.: xiii.

Gymnastics: 217,

Habit: exviii, 27.

Haller: 29, 48.

Hamlet: xxxix, xl.

Happiness: xxxv.

Harris: xcix.

Health: 36, 37, 103.

Hecker’s Epidemics of the Middle
Ages: iii.

Hedonism: xxxiv-xxxy.

Herbart, J. F., Life: xvii-xx;
relation to Pestalozzi: xxii;
relation to Kant: ix, xxii,
XXXVI-XxxVii.

Herbartianism—its spread :
XXvi.

Herbert, George: lxxix.

Herder: lii, ev.

Herodotus: 195.

Historical series, Example of an:
193.

History: cix.

Hobbes: xlii.

Hoffding: liii, lvii.

XXV-—
INDEX.

Holiness: xlvi.
Homer: Ixxxix, 195.
Humanities: o.
Hume: v.
Hysteria: lii.

Ictus: 146.

Ideas, Elementary (Vorstellun-
gen): lvi.

Ideas, Moral: xxxix—xliii, cxx,
18, 81.

Identity Hypothesis: Jiii.

Ideographic signs: xe.

Idiocy: 32.

Imagination: lii, lxviii, 200-207.

Impulse: lviii.

Independence of the different
organs of each other: 74.

Indian picture writing, xc.

Individuality: lvii, 28, 65, 207.

Indo-European: 1xxxviii.

Ingelow, Jean: Ixxv.

Inner Freedom: xxxix.

Instruction: Ixiii, lxxviii, 192,
190.

Intercourse: xlix, lxxviii, lxxxi,
190.

Interest: Ixxix, lxxxi-lxxxvi, 9,
122.

Interest, Receptive: Ixxxii; Ap-
perceptive: Ixxxii.

Irritability: 28, 47-56.

James, Prof.: Ixiii, xvi, lxviii,
Ixxiii, ci, cli, cxii, cxviii.

Jena: xxiii-xxv.

Judicial blindness: Ixxv.

Jurisprudence: xliii.

Justice: 15, 57.

Justice, Idea of: xliii.

Kant: v, vi, xxii, xxviii, xxxiii,
xxxvi, lvii, cii, cvii, 162.

Kingsley, Charles: 1.

Kirchner: lii, vii.

Klopstock: lii. 3

Knowledge: lxxviii; interest de-
rived from: lxxxiii.

 

229

fede Physiological Psychology:

iii.

Lange: lxiv, xeviii, cxi, cxii.

Langham: xl.

Language: 1xxxviii,
184, 189-193.

Law: xlii.

Lazarus: 1xx, lxxiv.

Le Sage: liii.

Lenau: Iii.

Lessing: cviii, 162.

Levana, Jean Paul's:

“Level” series: 167,

Literature: cviii.

Literature, English (lesson): cxiv.

Locke: v, xxxi, 9.

Lotze: xii, lv.

Lowell: xlix.

cix, 124,

xxvii, 7.

Macbeth: lix, 1xxxvii.

Marcella: exxiv.

Marcus Aurelius: Ixxii.

Materialism: liii.

Mathematical Psychology: 148,
149, 182.

Maxims, formulation: cxi.

Melancholy Temperament: 57,

Memory: ¢, ci, 41-46, 201, 217-
220.

Mephistopheles: 110.

Metaphysics: 1.

Method: cxvii.

Method Unit: cvi.

Metre: 146.

Mill, James: 202.

Mill, J. S.: xxxv, cxix.

Milton: Ixxvi.

Mind—its connection with body:
li, lii, 78, 220.

Mithridates: cii.

Momus: 15.

Moore’s Power of the Soul over the
Body: lii.

Moral Ideas: xxxix-xliii.

Moral Virtues: xxxv.

Morality: xxxiv.

Mozart: lii.

Musical Temperament: 52.
230

Musical Tones: 115.
Myths: 203.

Napoleon: xxi, 16, 45.

Nature: cix.

“ Nature-men”: 190.

Neurosis: lii.

Newton: 162, 204.

Niemeyer, A. H.: 6, 9, 61.

Niethammer, Von: 7.

Nineteenth Century for July,
Article on “ Recent Science”: li.

Novelist, Imagination of the: 201.

Obedience: cxxi.

Objective of character: exvi.

Observation: 211-215,

Occupation: cxx.

Odysseus: xlix, xcvi.

Odyssey: 162.

Olivarez: liii.

Onesided education: lxxxv.

‘¢ Particular, From the. . . to the
General”: cix, cxi, 162.

Paul (Jean): see Richter.

Pause, Presentation of a:
144.

Peculiarities, innate and acquired:

142,

Perceptions: lxiv, 162.

Perfection, Idea of: xl.

Periodic, or round series:

Personal interest: Ixxxiii.

Pestalozzi: viii, xviii, xxi, xxii,
exii, 8, 162.

Phonetics: xe.

Physiological Psychology: Ji, liv.

Plato: vii, xvii, xliii. xlvi, 1,
xxiii, ]xxvi, 57.

Play, Educational: 109.

Poetry: 209.

Presentations rising simultan-
eously: 148-152, 198.

Presentations rising freely: 211-
215.

Psychical mechanism—need for
its observation: cxix, 185.

Punishment: xliii, cxx.

167.

 

INDEX.

Ranke: cxix.

Recall: ci.

Reflection: lxxxvi, cxi, cxv, 222,

Reid: lxv.

Religion: xliv, xlv, 203.

Religious interest: Ixxxiii.

Retention: ci.

Richter, Jean Paul: xxvii, liii, 7,
xeviil,

Right, Idea of: xlii.

Righteousness: xxxvi.

Rigid minds: 122-127, 156, 157,
174, 187.

Robinson Crusoe: xevii.

Roman kings, Series of: 172, 191.

Romola: cxvii.

Rosencranz: xii.

Rousseau: xxi, xxxi, xxxii, lii,
exiii, 190.

Ruskin: lxv, cxxii.

Sachs, L. W.: 28.

Sanguine ape 53-56.

Schwarz, F. H. Ch.:

Schwegler’s History in Philosophy:
XXxvii.

Science: xcix.

Scott, W.: liii, lviii.

Scrofula: 30,

Seneca: cii.

Sensibility: 28, 47-56.

Sensuality: 129, 131.

Sense impressions: lxv.

Series Formation: 166-174.

Sidney, Sir Philip, Lesson on life
of: lxxxiv.

Sintram: xlii.

Shakespeare: 1xxx.

Slater’s Method: lxxxi.

Sleep: 95.

Social interest: lxxxiii.

Socrates: xxix, xlv, xlvii, lii,
lxxiii, 15.

Soul—its essence: lv; self-pre-
servations: lvi; influence on
body: li, lii, 220.

Speculation: 9, 163.

Speculative interest: ]xxxiii.

Speech: lii, 179, 216.
INDEX.

Spencer, Herbert: xxxii.
Spenser, Edmund: Ixiii, cix,
exiv.

Spinoza: xxxvy, lili, 36.
Spiritualistic hypothesis: liii.
Spondaic metre: 146.
Spontaneity: 199.

St. John, Dance of: lii.
St. Vitus, Dance of: lii.
Stammering: 185.
State Education: 14-25.
State Ideal: xliii.
“Steep” series: 167.
Stoz, Dr. K. V.: xxiii,
Study, Change of: 102.
Supervision : cxx.
Swift: 1.

Sympathy: Ixxviii.
Synthesis: cx, cxi.
System: cxi.

Tables, drawing up of tables,
(system, etc.): cxii.

Tapering: lxx, Ixxi, 114-117,
123, 125, 133-136.

Tasso: iii.

Taste: cxxii.

Teachers: xlix, 10, 13, 24, 192.

Temperaments: 57-59,

Tennyson: 1, cxxi, 146.

Threatening: cxx.

Thoughtlessness: 160.

Threshold of Consciousness ; stati-
eal: 151, 218, 218 ; Mechanical:
151, 210, 212.

Thesis: 140.

 

231

Thrasymachus: 15.
Time measure: 140-147.
Time standard: 143.
Tone scale: 133.

Truth, General: cxiv.

Ufer: lxxix, cxx.
Uninstructed mind: lxxx.

Valhalla: xliii.

Vaulting: Ixix, Ixxi, 114-117,
123, 126, 127, 133-136.

Vegetation: 28, 47-56.

Versatility: 156, 158.

Volition: lvii; Analysis of: exvi.

Ward, Prof.: xxiii, Ivii, Ixxiv,
202

Will as a desire with the possi-
bility of its attainment: lix.

Will, Strength of: 66.

Will, freedom: xxxvii, 70, 77.

Will, good: xxxvi.

Will pictures: cxvii.

Will, Memory of the: cxvii.

Will, Subjective and Objective,
xxxix.

Will, Training of: lxxxi.

Wisdom: 57.

Words: 179, 180.

Wordsworth: Ixv, Ixxvi.

Work: xxxiv.

Xenophon: lii.

Ziller: cvi, cvii.
PLYMOUTH ;
WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON,

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