EVERY TEACHER, This scries of Books for Teachers be^an with the I Common School Law for Common School Teachers. Withir than one hundred books were Issued, with an aggrej^ai five hundred thousand copies. That ho teacher's libra plete without at least several of these books is common the titles of some of the more important are hereto ap Besides his own publications, the undersi^fned dea Teacher's and School Supplies of every kind. He also m of works on Pedagogy; in other words, of works intend Teachers, as distinguished from Educational Text-Bo logue of over 3500 such works will be sent for two three ( he will endeavor to fill promptly and cheaply orders for English publications ol this character. It is his intent stantiy in stock every reputable pedagogical book now he also keeps close watch of auction sales, both in t abroad, in order to secure aupli wonkg _afl^Qi?^^-j«xoTg, which liEj and will i Agalite S tact are and is feet, or Aids to S< 100 hini Supp. 15 cts: Alden (J( ISardeen law as Distric To whi Examii and A] LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. m -^rr- UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Roderick Hume. 295 Tbe story of a New York Teacher. Cl( -VERBAL PITFALLS. A manual of 1500 misused words, leadlus; :iuthorities. Cloth, I6nu)., pp. 223 Some Facts about our Public Schools. An argument for System. 8vo, pp. 32 Educational JournaUf^m. 8vo, pp. 30 The' School Bulletin Year Book: Educational directory Nf'w \ ork for 1879. 8vo, pp. 40, with map Bassett (J. A.) LATITUDE, LONGITUDE AND TIME. EmM prehensive discussion, with over 100 illustrative questious ^Manilla. 16mo, pp. 42 Beebe (Levi N.) Firttition Book. Manilla, 7x9, pp. 44 15 Chxss Register. Designed by Edward Smith, Superintendent of Schools, Syracuse, N. Y. Press-board covers. Three Sizes, (a) 6x7, for terms of twenty weeks, (b) 5x7, for terms of fourteen weeks. When not otherwise specified the smaVer size is always sent. Pp. 48 25 (c) Like (b) but with one half more (72) pagis S5 School Ruler, Two Styles (a) Manilla, 12 inch, (b) Cardboard, 6 inch. EachScents. Per hundred 100 Bnrchard (O. E.) Two months in Europe. Paper. l2mo, pp.158 .. 50 Cheney (F.) A Qlobe Manual for Scliools. Boards, 16mo, pp. 95 50 Colored Crayon, for Blackboard, per box of one dozen, nine colors... 25 Collins (Henry.) The International Date Line. Paper, 16mo, pp. 15. .... ... 15 Common School Thermometer, in box, postpaid 50 Constitution of the United States and of N. Y. Cloth, 12mo., pp. 82 25 Cooke (SidneyG.i Politics and Schools. Paiier, Svo., pp. 23 25 Craig (Asa H.) The Common School Question Book. Cloth 12mo, pp. 340 1 50 Davi* {\V. W.) Suggestions for Teacliing Fractions. Paper, 12mo, pp. 43.. 25 De Graflf (E. V.) Practical Phonics. A comprehensive study of Pronun- ciation, forming a complete guide to the study of Elementary sounds of the English Language, and containing 3,000 words of difticult pronuncia- tion, with diacritical marks according to Webster's Dictionary. , Cloth, 12mo, pp. 108 75 Pocket Pronunciation Brtok, containing the 3,000 words of difficult pro- nunciation, with diacritical marks according to Webster's Dictionary. Manilla, l6mo. pp. 47 U The School-Room Ouide, embodying the instruction given by the author at Teachers' Institutes in New York and other States, and especially intended to assist Public School Teachers in the practical work of the school-room. Tenth Edition, with many additions and corrections. Cloth, 12mo, pp. 449 1 50 T/ie So. 1 Budget. A collection of Songs and Music for schools and education,.! gatherings. Paper, small 4to, pp. 72 15 The School-Room Chorus. A collection of 200 Songs, suitable for Public and Private Schools. Boards, small 4to, pp 147 35 Dickinson (J. W.) Limits of Oral Teaching. Paper, Svo, pp. 8 15 Diplomas, printed to order from any design furnished. Specimens sent. (a) Bond paper, 14x17, for 25 5 00 " 50 6 50 (ft) " " 16x20, " 25 5 50 •• " " " 50 8 50 (c) Parchment. 15x20, " 5 6 00 Each additional copy 75 Emerson (H. P.) Latin in High Scliools. Paper, Svo, pp. 9 25 FarnliHm (Geo. L.) The Senitnce Method of teaching Heading, Writing, and Spelling. A Manual for Teachers. Cloth, 12mo, pp. 50 50 Fitcli (Joshua G.) Tlie Art of Questioning. M Editvm. Paper, 12mo, pp. 36. 15 T lie Art of Securing Attention. Paper, 16mo, pp. 43. Second edition. 15 Giffin fWm. M.) How Not to Teach; or, 100 Tilings the Teacher should NOT do. Paper, 16mo, pp. 31 15 Hailraann ( W. N.) Kindergarten Manual. Primary Helps 75 The New Education. A summary of Kindergarten Principles and Methods. Svo, pp. 146. Two series. Each , 2 00 Hendrick (Mary F.) A series of Questions in English and American Litera- tare, prepared for Class Drill and Private Study. Third Edition Revised, Boards, 12mo, pp. 100, Interleaved 85 Hough (F. B.) The Thousand Islands of the St. Lawrence. Cloth, 16mo, pp. 807 1 28 LECTURES ON THE Science and Art of Education. WITH OTHER LECTURES AND ESSAYS. BY THE liATE JOSEPH PAYNE. THE FIRST PROFESSOR OF THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION IN THE COLLEGE OF PRECEPTORS, OF LONDON. BEADING CLUB EDITION. INDEXED BY HEADLINES, AND WITH FULL ANALYSES;. By C. W. BARDEEN. '' -M 1895 I? •^ ' SYRACUSE, N. Y. : C. W. BARDEEN, PUBLISHER. 1885. Copyright, 1885, by C. W, Bardken. u THE FOLLOWING BOOKS, FREQUENTLY REFERRED TO IN THIS VOLUME, MAY BE HAD OF THE PUBLISHER AT THE PRICES ANNEXED. Quick's "Essays on Educational Reformers," $ 1.50 (See l)p. 61, 113, 129, 130, 183, 231, 242.) Wilson's "On Teaching Natural Science in Schools," 25 (See pp. 140, 220.) Youman's " Culture demanded by Modern Life," 2,00 (See pp. 62.) Youmanss's " First Book in Botany," 75 " Second Book in Botany," 1.30 (See pp. 218, 245.) Fitch's "Lectures on Teaching," 1,25 (See p. 80.) Ascham's "The Schoolm aster, " Reprint .50 (See pp. 123-128,) Krilsi's " Life and Work of Pestalozzi," 1.50 (See pp. 231.) Rousseau's " Emile," in French. 1.00 The Same, translated, 2 vols., 8vo, 10,00 3 or 4 vols., 16mo, 5.00 abridged, 1.00 Peetalozzi's "Leonard and Gertrude," trans., abridged,... 1.00 Address, C. W. BARDEEN. Syracuse. N. Y. IlsTDEX. {^Fiill Analyses will he found at the close of each chapter.) PAGE Preface -- iv Introduction, by the Rev. R. H. Quick. vi Obituary Notice - - - xii The Science and Art of Education 17 The Theory or Science of Education.. 49 The Practice or Art of Education 86 Educational Methods 116 Principles of the Science of Education... 156 Theories of Teaching, with their Corresponding Practice 165 The Importance of the Training of the Teacher 189 The True Foundation of Object- Teaching. 211 Pestalozzi: the Influence of his Principles and Practice on Elementary Education 328 (See also pp. 130-137.) Froebel and the Kindergarten System of Elementary Educa- tion 254 111 PREFACE BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR. The wide adoption of this portion of Joseph Payne's addresses as a manual for Reading Circles among teach- ers, has led to frequent complaint that long paragraphs, repetitions, and different analyses at different times of the same subject, have made it difficult thoroughly to master the editions already published. Accordingly I have prepared this new edition with these features: (1) The pages are indexed by head lines, the left- hand giving the title of the lecture, and the right-hand giving the particular topic under discussion. (2) Each lecture is followed by a somewhat minute analysis, convenient not only for review, but for com- parison with treatments of the same subject in other lectures. It must be remembered that this volume was not prepared by the author as a text-book, but is simply a compilation of addresses and papers delivered at differ- ent times and under different circumstances. Hence the same truth is often repeated, not only in different expression, but with different application. Only by an intelligent comparison of these various statements can Prof. Payne's views be thoroughly understood; and for this comparison these analyses are almost indispensable. The central principle of Prof. Payne's system stands iv PREFACE. V out boldly, and is reiterated at every opportunity; that the pupil knows only what he has discovered for him- self, and that in this process of discovery the teacher is only a guide. A comparison of the analyses given will show how often this truth is stated, and how variously it is demonstrated. C. W. BARDEEN. Syracuse, April 15, 1885. INTEODUCTION, BY THE EEV. R. H. QUICK, AUTHOR OF "ESSAYS ON EDUCATIONAL REFORMERS," ETC. A few words of introduction seem necessary to tell the general reader wliat it concerns him to know about the author of this volume, and his practical acquaint- ance with education. At an early age Mr. Payne became an assistant in a London school; and, as he himself maintained, he would have fallen into the ordinary groove of routine teaching had he not accidentally become acquainted with the principles of the French reformer Jacotot, and been fired with the enthusiasm which Jacotot succeeded in kindling far and wide both in his own country and in Belgium. In England Mr. Payne was the first (in im- portance, if not in time) of Jacotot's disciples; and finding that the new principles entirely changed his notion of the teacher's office, and turned routine into a course of never-ending experiment and discovery, he forthwith set about preaching the new educational evangel. Though a very young man and with small resources, he published an account of Jacotot's system (1830), and gave public lectures to arouse teachers to a sense of its importance. The system interested a lady, who induced Mr. Payne to undertake the instruction of her own children: and this family became the nucleus of a large school under Mr. Payne's management at vi MR. PATNE AS A REFORMEE. Vll Denmark Hill. Some years afterwards, Mr. Payne es- tablished himself at the Mansion House, Letherhead, where he was still very successful as a schoolmaster, and where he acquired the means of retiring, after thirty years' work, from the profession. In his school- keeping, and in all his undertakings, even his studies, Mr. Payne was greatly assisted by his wife, a lady who had herself been engaged in education, and who entered into his pursuits with the sympathy of the intellect as well as of the heart, till she was called away, only a few months before her husband. Believing as I do that Mr. Payne's labors have had and will have a great influ- ence on education in this country, I feel bound to bear this testimony to her by whom he was so greatly assisted. We have seen that Mr. Payne became early in life an enthusiastic theorist. We most of us have our enthusi- asms when we are young, and teachers like other people, at first expect to do great things, and make great ad- vances on the practice of their predecessors. But as they grow older the enthusiasms die out. All sorts of concessions to use and wont are enforced upon them; and by degrees they find there is much to be said for the usual methods. These methods are, for the master of all events, the easiest ; and they have this great advantage, that they lead to the expected results. Changes might lead to unexpected results, and tliese would not find favor with parents. If we do well what other people are doing, and doing in some cases very badly, we shall please everybody; and why not be satisfied with that which satisfies our employers? In this way we find excuses for our failing energy, and by the time we have experience enough to judge what Vill INTRODUCTION. reforms are possible, we have settled down into indo- lent contentment with things as they are. To this law of the decay of enthusiasms Mr. Payne's career shows us a striking exception. In early life an interest in principles had changed his occu])ation from a dull routine to an absorbing intellectual pursuit, and as he went on he found that his study of theory instead of making him " unpractical " gave him great practical advantages. His pupils did not fail in ordinary ac- quirements; and their memory, even for Latin Gram- mar, was developed without any assistance from the cane. When I first became acquainted with Mr. Payne, he had retired from his school, and I do not know how far he succeeded in carrying out his principles. That they had constant influence over him, no one who knew him would for an instant doubt; but probably, like all high-minded men, he fell far short of his own ideal. But the more he taught himself and the more he had to direct other teachers, the stronger grew his conviction that education should be studied scientifically, that principles should direct practice, and further that the main cause of weakness in our school system lay in our teacher's ignorance of the nature of their calling, and of the main truths about it already established. The consequence was that when after many years of labor he found himself able to spend his remaining days as he chose, he set to work with an enthusiasm and energy and self-devotion rarely found even in young men, to arouse teachers to a sense of the4r deficiencies and to be a pioneer in the needed science of education. It was, I believe, mainly owing to his influence, and to that of his friend Mr. C. H. Lake, that the College of Precep- MR. Payne's avork. ix tors instituted an examination for teachers, the first held in the country. In 1872, the College took another important step, and appointed the first English Profes- sor of the Science and Art of Education. The Profes- sor appointed was Mr. Payne, and no man could have been found with higher qualifications. He had always been a diligent student, and had much wider culture than is usually found in schoolmasters, or indeed in any class of hardworked men, and his habits of reading and writing now gave him great advantages. But these would have been of little avail had he not possessed the main requisite for the professorship as few indeed pos- sessed it, viz., a profound belief in the present value and future possibilities of the Science of Education. No work could have been more congenial to him than endeavoring to awaken in young teachers that spirit of inquiry into principles, which he had found the salt of his own life in the schoolroom. And short as his tenure of the Professorship unhappily proved, he succeeded in his endeavor, and left behind him students who have learnt from him to make their practice as teachers more beneficial to others and infinitely more pleasurable to themselves, by investigating the theory which not only explains right practice, but also points out the way to it. That interest in education as a science and an art which was awakened by the delivery of Mr. Payne's lectures, will one day, I trust, be more widely spread by their publication. The papers in this volume have already appeared at diflPerent times, and they are now for the first time collected. But there are numerous lectures which still remain in MS. Mr. Payne always spoke of Jacotot as "his master," X INTRODUCTION. and in one of the paradoxes of Jacotot is contained the principle wliich takes the leading place in Mr. Payne's teaching Jacotot exposed himself to the jeers of schoolmasters by asserting that a teacher who under- stood his business could " teach what he did not know." By teacher is usually understood one who communicates knowledge. This meaning of the word, however, was unsatisfactory to Jacotot and to his English disciple. What is knowledge ? Knowledge is the abiding result of some action of the mind. Whoever causes the mind of pupils to take the necessary action teaches the pupils, and this is the only kind of teaching which Mr. Payne would hear of. Thus we see that Jacotot's paradox points to a new conception of the teacher''s function. The teacher is not one who "tells," but one who sets the learner's mind to work, directs it and regulates its rate of advance. In order to "tell," one needs nothing beyond a form of words which the pupils may repro- duce with or without comprehension. But to "teach," in Mr. Payne's sense of the word, a vast deal more was required, an insight into the working of the pupil's mind, a power of calling its activities into play, and of directing them to the needful exercise, a perception of results, and a knowledge how to render those results permanent. Such was Mr. Payne's notion of the teach- er's office, and this notion lies at the root of all that he said and wrote about instruction. It would be useless to attempt to decide how far the conception v/as origi- nal with him. " Everything reasonable has been thought already," says Goethe. Mr. Payne, as we have seen, was always eager to declare his obligations to Jacotot. The same notion of the teacher is found in the utter- JACOTOT S PARADOX. XI aaces of other men, especiall}' of Pestalozzi and Froebel* But when sue!) a conception becomes part and parcel of a mind like Mr. Payne's, it forthwith becomes a fresh force, and its influence spreads to others. To elevate the teacher's conception of his calling was the task to which Mr. Payne devoted the latter years of his life; but those who knew him best, desire to see his influence extended by this and other publications of his writings, that he may still be a worker in the cause which he had at heart. Januarij, 1880. . R H. QUICK. MR. JOSEPH PAYNE. The subjoined Obituary Notice appeared shortly after Mr. Payne's death, in the Educational Times for June 1st, 1876. It would be difficult to over-estimate the loss which the cause of educational progress and reform has sus- tained by the recent death of Mr. Joseph Payne. At the present juncture, when so great an impetus has been given to popular education, and such rapid strides are being taken, not always with the clearest light, or in the wisest direction, and when the guidance and influence of men of wide experience, careful thought, and untiring devotion, are more than ever necessary, few could be named whose place it would be more difficult to supply. Those who had the privilege of knowing Mr. Payne are aware that, both as a theorist and as a practical teacher, he had made it the business of his life to expose the futility of the unintelligent routine with which edu- cators have too commonly contented themselves, and to rouse teachers to replace it by methods which would call the expanding faculties of the young scholar into health- ful activity, which would promote and regulate their development by well-considered aisd sympathetic guid- ance, and would direct their action to the best and wisest ends. In short, he strove to make education a reality instead of a pretence. With this view he con- stantly insisted on the too often forgotten truth, that xii BIRTH AND EARLY EDUCATIOISr. XUI the only teaching that is worthy of the name is that which enables the learner to teach himself, that which awakens in him the desire for knowledge, and guides him by the surest and readiest methods to its attainment. Such teaching proceeds upon intelligent and scientific principles, and demands of the teacher something differ- ent from the hum-drum giving of routine lessons. As the obvious corollary of this, Mr. Payne urged upon teachers the necessity of mastering the true principles that should guide them in the exercise of their profes- sion, and of rousing themselves to the perception of the truth that the teacher must learn how to teach j' that he must not only know thoroughly and fundamentally that which he teaches, but must study well the laws which govern the exercise and development of the faculties of those whom he teaches; that he must know both the lesson and the scholar, and the means by which the two may be brought into fruitful contact. These aims Mr. Payne pursued throughout his life, unobtrusively in- deed, yet with single-minded enthusiasm, and unswerv- ing tenacity of purpose. Mr. Payne was born at Bury St. Edmund's on the 2d of March, 1808. His early education was very incom- plete, and it was not till he was about fourteen years old that, at a school kept by a Mr. Freeman, he came under the instruction of a really competent teacher. This advantage, however, he did not enjoy very long. At a comparatively early age he was under the necessity of getting his own living, which he did partly by teach- ing, partly by writing for the press. His life at this period was laborious, and not altogether free from pri- vations. He found time, however, for diligent study, XIV OBITUARY NOTICE. and numerous extract and common-place books testify to the wide range of his reading in the ancient classics and in English literature. When he was about twenty years of age he became a private tutor in the family of Mr. David Fletcher, of Camberwell. His exceptional aptitude for teaching, and his energetic devotion to study attracted the appi e- csiation and sympathy of the mother of his young pupils. The children of one or two neighbors were admitted to share the benefits of his instruction, and thus a small preparatory school sprang up. Under his zealous and able direction it increased in numbers and consideration, till it expanded into the important school known as ^* Denmark Hill Grammar School," carried on in a fine old mansion (recently demolished) on Denmark Hill. Here, in partnership with Mr. Fletcher, he continued his labors for some years. In 1837 Mr. Payne married Miss Dyer, a lady w^ho was at the head of a girls' school of high repute, which she continued to carry on for some time. In her he had the happiness of obtaining, as the partner of his life, a lady of great energy of character, of tact and method in the conduct of affairs, and admirably suited to sym- pathize with him in the aims and ambitions of his life. Mr. Payne's connection with the school at Camber- well continued till the year 1845, when he established himself independently at the Mansion House, Lether- head. Here he labored with great energy and success for about eighteen years, his school taking rank as one of the very first private schools in this country. In 1863, having acquired a modest competence, he with- drew from the active cares of his profession. None the HIS WORK FOE EDUCATION. XV less, however, did he continue to devote himself strenu- ously to the cause of educational progress. He took a lively and active interest in several of the most import- ant movements having this for their purpose, such (for example) as the " Women's Education Union," and the "Public Girls' School Company," the improvement of women's education having long been one of his most cherished objects. By lectures, and through the press, and by his active and energetic participation in the operations carried on by the College of Preceptors, he still zealously pursued the great object of his life — the advancement of education by the improvement of the methods, and the elevation of the character and status of the teacher. The Kindergarten system of Froebel was one in which he took a keen interest. He studied profoundly the methods and systems of all who have obtained celebrity as educators, and Pestalozzi and Jaco- tot had in him a warm admirer and an able expositor. When a Professorship of the Science and Art of Educa- tion (the first of its kind) was established by the College of Preceptors, he was unaminously elected to occupy that Chair. Throughout his life Mr. Payne was a hard student. Till but a few months before his death, he was wont to continue his work into the small hours of the morning. He was especially interested in the history of the devel- opment of the English language, and the characteristics of the different dialects, and more particularly in the history of the Norman-French element. This led him to a rather extensive study of the dialects of French, and the history of the French language generally. A paper of great value by him on these subjects appears XVI OBriUARY NOTICE. in the " Transactions of the Philological Society," of which he was one of the most distinguished and active members. Mr. Payne's life had been too laboriously occupied to leave time for the composition of any large literary works; but his little volume of "Select Poetry for Children " is one of the very best of its class, and his " Studies in English Prose," and " Studies in English Poetry," have met with a wide appreciation. Among various lectures and pamphlets published by him, may be mentioned: — "Three Lectures on the Science and Art of Education," delivered at the College of Pre- ceptors in 1871. "The True Foundation of Science Teaching," a lecture delivered at the College of Pre- ceptors in 1872. " The Importance of the Training of the Teacher." " The Science and Art of Education," an introductory lecture delivered at the College of Precept- ors. "Pestalozzi," a lecture delivered at the College of Preceptors in 1875. " Froebel and the Kindergarten System," a lecture delivered at the College of Precept- ors. " The Curriculum of Modern Education." The death of his wife, which occured in the autumn of last year, probably aggravated the symptoms of a malady of some standing, which terminated on April 30th, 1876, a life of singular purity and nobleness of aim, of strenuous and unintermitting industry, and of unselfish devotion to high and worthy ends. THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. * At the beginning of last year, I delivered in this room a lecture intended to inaugurate the Course of Lectures and Lessons on the Science and Art of Education, which the Council of the College of Preceptors had appointed me to undertake. The experiment then about to be tried was a new one in this country; for, although we have had for some years Colleges intended to prepare Elementary Teachers for their work, nothing of the kind existed for Middle Class and Higher Teachers. As I stated in that Inaugural Lecture, the Council of the College of Preceptors, after waiting in vain for action on the part of the Government or of the Universities, and attempting, also in vain, to obtain the influential co-operation of the leading scholastic authorities in aid of their object, resolved to make a beginning themselves. They therefore adopted a scheme laid before them by one of their colleagues — a lady — and offered the First Professorship of the Science and Art of Education to me. We felt that some considerable difficulties lay in the way of any attempt to realize our intentions. Among these, there were two especially on which I will dwell for a few minutes. The first was, the oj)inion very gen- erally entertained in this country, that there is no Science of Education, that is, that there are no fixed * Au Introductory Lecture delivered at the College of Preceptors, on the 20th January, 1874. B 32 18 THE SCIENCE AJSTD ART OF EDUCATION". principles for the guidance of the Educator's practice. It is generally admitted that there is a Science of Medi- cine, of Law, of Theology; but it is not generally admitted there is a corresponding Science of Education. The opinion that there is no such Science was, as we know, courageously uttered by Mr. Lowe, but we also know that there are hundreds of cultivated professional men in England, who silently maintain it, and are prac- tically guided by it. These men, many of them distin- guished proficients in the Art of teaching, if you venture to suggest to them that there must be a correhited Sciene& which determines — whether they are conscious of it or not — the laws of their practice, generally by a signifi:- cant smile let you know their opinion both of the subject and of yourself. If they deign to open their lips at all„ it is to mutter something about " Pedagogy," ^' frothy stuff," " mere quackery,"* or to tell you point-blank that if there is such a Science, it is no business of theirs: they do very well without it. This opinion, which they no doubt sincerely entertain, is, however, simply the product of thoughtlessness on their part. If they had carefully considered the subject in relation to themselves — if they had known the fact tliat the Science which they disclaim or denounce has long engaged the atten- tion of hundreds of the profoundest thinkers of Ger- many — many of them teachers of at least equal standing to their own — who have reverently admitted its preten- *It is remarkable that the dictionary meaning of "quack" is *• a boastful pretender to arts he does not understand," so that the asserter of principles as the foundation of correct practice isignorantly denounced as weak on the very point which constitutes his strengh. One may imag- ine the shouts of laughter with which such a denunciation would be receivedjn an assembly of German experts in education. IS THERE StTCH A SCIENCE ? 1 9 sions, and devoted their great powers of mind to the investigation of its laws, they would, at least, have given you a respectful hearing. But great, as we know, is the power of ignorance, and it wil] prevail — for a time. There are, however, even now, hopeful signs which indicate a change of public opinion. Only a week ago, a leader in the Times called attention to Sir Bartle Frere's conviction expressed in one of his lectures in Scotland, that "the acknowledged and growing power of Germany is intimately connected with the admirable education which the great body of the German nation are in the habit of receiving." The edu- cation of which Sir Bartle Frere thus speaks, is the direct result of that very science which is so generally unknown, and despised, because unknown, by our culti- vated men, and especially by many of our most eminent teachers. When this educated power of Germany, which has already shaken to its centre the boasted mili- tary reputation of France, does the same for our boasted commercial reputation, as Sir Bartle Frere and others declare that it is even now doing, and for our boasted engineering reputation, as Mr. Mundella predicts it will do, unless we look about us in time, the despisers of the Science of education will adopt a different tone, and perhaps confess themselves in error; at all events, they will betake themselves to a modest and respectful silence. No later^back than yesterday (January 19) the Times con- tained three letters bearing on Sir Bartle Frere's asser- tion that the increasing commercial importance of Germany is due mainly to the excellence of German education. One writer refers to the German Realschulen or Thing-Schools and to the High Schools of Commerce, 20 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. in both of which the practical study of matters bearing on real life is conducted. Another writer, an Ex-Chair- man of the Liverpool Chamber of Commerce, says, — " I have no hesitation in stating that young Germans make the best business men, and the reason is, that they are usually better educated; I mean by this, they have a more thorough education, which imparts to them accu- racy and precision. Whatever they do is well and accurately done, no detail is too small to escape their attention, and this engenders a iiabit of thought and mind, which in after life makes them shrewd and thor- ough men of business. I think the maintenance of our commercial superiority is very much of a schoolmaster's question." A third writer speaks of the young German clerks sent out to the East as "infinitely superior" in education to the class of young men sent out from Eng- land, and ends by saying, " Whatever be the cause, there can be no question that the Germans are outstrip- ping us in the race for commercial superiority in the far East." Some persons, no doubt, will be found to cavil at these statements; the only comment, however, I think it necessary to make is this — " Germany is a country where the Science of Education is widely and pro- foundly studied, and where the Art is conformed to the Science." I leave you to draw your own inferences. Without, however, dwelling further on this important matter, though it is intimately connected with my pur- pose, I repeat that this dead weight of ignorance in the public mind respecting the true claims of the Science of Education, constitutes one of the difficulties with which we have had to contend. The writer of a leading arti- TEACHERS TOO SELF-CONTENTED. 21 cle in the Times, January 10, said emphatically, "In truth, there is nothing in which the mass of Englishmen are so much in need of education as in appreciating the value of Education itself." These words contain a pregnant and melancholy truth, which will be more and more acknowledged as time moves on. But there was another difficulty of scarcely less import- ance with which we had to contend, and this is the con- viction entertained by the general body of teachers that they have nothing to learn about Education. We are now descending, be it remembered, from the leaders to the great band of mere followers, from the officers of the army to the rank and file. My own experience, it may well be believed, of teachers, has been considerable. As the net result of it, I can confidently affirm that until I commenced ray class in February last, I never came in contact with a dozen teachers who were not entirely satisfied with their own empirical methods of teaching. To what others had written on the principles of Educa- tion, — to what these had reduced to successful practice, — they were, for the most part, profoundly indifferent. To move onward in the grooves to which they had been accustomed in their school days, or if more intelligent, to devise methods of their own, without any respect to the experience, however enlightened, of others, was, and is, the general practice among teachers. For them, indeed, the great educational authorities, whether writers or workers, might as well never have existed at all. In short, to repeat what I said before, teachers, as a class (there are many notable exceptions), are so contented with themselves and their own methods of teaching that they complacently believe, and act on the belief, that 22 THE SCIENCE AND AKT OF EDUCATION. they have nothing at all to learn from the Science and Art of Education ; and this is much to be regretted for their own sakes, and especially for the sake of their pupils, whose educational health and well-being lie in their hands. However this may be, the fact is unques- tionable, that one of the greatest impediments to any attempt to expound the principles af Education lies in the unwarrantable assumption on the part of the teachers that they have nothing to learn on the subject. Here, however, as is often the case, the real need for a remedy is in inverse proportion to the patient's consciousness of the need. The worst teachers are generally those who are most satisfied with themselves, and their own small performances. The fallacy, not yet displaced from the mind of the public, on which this superstructure of conceit is raised, is that '' he who knows a subject can teach it." The postulate, that a teacher should thoroughly know the subject he professes to teach, is by no means disputed, but it is contended that the question at issue is to be mainly decided by considerations lying on the pupil's side of it. The process of thinking, by which the pupil learns, is essentially his own. The teacher can but stim- ulate and direct, he cannot supersede it. He cannot do the thinking necessary to gain the desired result for his pupil. The problem, then, that he has to solve is how to get his pupil to learn ; and it is evident that he may know the subject without knowing the best means of making his pupil know it too, which is the assumed end of all his teaching. He may be an adept in his subject, but a novice in the art of teaching it — an art which has principles, laws, and processes peculiar tO' itself. SCHOLARSHIP i:nsufficient. 23 But, again : a man, profoundly acquainted with a subject, may be unapt to teach it by reason of the very height and extent of his knowledge. His mind habitu- ally dwells among the mountains, and he has, therefore, small sympathy with the toiling plodders on the plains below. The difficulties which beset their path have long ceased to be a part of his own experience. He cannot then easily condescend to their condition, place himself alongside of them, and force a sympathy he cannot nat- urally feel with their trials and perplexities. Both these cases tend to the same issue, and show that it is fallacy to assert that there is any necessary connection between knowing a subject and knowing how to teach it. Our experiment was commenced on the 6th of Feb- ruary last. On the afternoon of that day, only seven- teen teachers had given in their names as meml^rs of the class that was to be formed. In the evening, how- ever, to my surprise, I found no fewer than fifty-one awaiting the lecture. This number was increased in a few weeks to seventy, and on the whole, there have been eighty members in the course of a year. Having brought our little history down to the commencement of the lectures in 1873, I propose to occupy the remainder of our time with a brief account of what was intended, and what has been accomplished by them. Generally speaking, the intention was to show (1) that there is a Science of Education, that is, that there arj principles derived from the nature of the mind which furnish laws for the educator's guidance ; (2) that there is an Art founded on the Science, which will be efficient or inefficent in proportion to the educator's conscious knowledge of its principles. 24 THE SCIENCE AND AET OF EDUCATION. It will be, perhaps, remembered by some now present, that I gave in my Inaugural Lecture a sketch of ihe man- ner in which I intended to treat these subjects. As, however, memories are often weals, and require to be hu- mored, and as repetition is the teacher's sheet-anchor, I may, perhaps, be excused if I repeat some of the matter then brought forward, and more especially as I may cal- culate that a large proportion of my audience were not present last year. I had to consider how I should treat the Science of Education, especially in relation to such a class as I was likely to have. It was to be expected that the class would consist of young teachers unskilled in the art of teaching, and perhaps even more unskilled in that of thinking. Such in fact they, for the most part, proved to be. Now the Science of Education is a branch of Psychology, and both Education and Psychology, as sciences, may be studied either deductively or induct- ively. We may commence with general propositions, and work downward to the facts they represent, or up- ward from the facts to the general propositions. To students who had been mainly occupied with the con- crete and practical, it seemed to me much better to commence with the concrete and practical ; with facts, rather than with abstractions. But what facts ? That was the question. There is no doubt that a given art contains in its practice, for eyes that can truly see, the principles which govern its action. The reason for do- ing may be gathered from the doing itself. If, then, we could be quite sure beforehand that perfect speci- mens of practical teaching based on sound principles, were accessible, we might have set about studying them NOT TO BE iEVOL\^ED FEOM PRACTICE. 25 carefully, Avith a view to elicit the principles which un- derlie the practice, and in this way we might have ar- rived at a Science of Education. But then this involves the whole question — Who is to guarantee dogmatically the absolute soundness of a given method of teaching, and if any one comes forward to do this, who is to guar- antee the soundness of his judgment ? It appears, then, that although we might evolve the principles of medicine from the general practice of medicine, or the principles of engineering from the gen- eral practice of engineering, we cannot evolve the prin- ciples of education from the general practice of education as we actually find it. So much of that practice is radically and obviousl}'' unsound, so little of sequence and co-ordi- nation is there in its parts, so aimless generally is its action, that to search for the Science of Education in its ordinary present practice would be a sheer waste of time. We should find, for instance, the same teacher acting one day, and with regard to one subject, on one principle, and another day, or with regard to another" subject, on a totally different principle, all the time for- getting thaf^he mind really has but one method of learning so as really to know^^ though multitudes of methods may be framed for giving the semblance of knowino;. We see one teacher who is never satisfied un- til he secures his pupils' possession of clear ideas upon a given subject ; another who will let them go off with confused and imperfect ideas ; and a third, who will think his duty done when he has stuffed them with mere words — with husks instead of grain. It is then perfect- ly clear that we cannot deduce the principles of true science from varying practice of this kind ; and if we 26 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. confine ourselves to inferences drawn from such prac- tice, we shall never know what the Science of Educa- tion is. Having thus shut ourselves off from dealing with the subject by the high «j9nor? method, commenc- ing with abstract principles, and also from the unsatis- factory method of reference founded on various, but generally imperfect, practice ; and being still resolved, if possible, to get down to a solid foundation on which we might build a frabric of science, we were led to in- quire whether any system of education is to be found, constant and consistent in its working, by the study of which we might reach the desired end. On looking round we saw that there u such a system continually at work under our very eyes, — one which secures definite results, in the shape of positive knowledge, and trains to habit the powers by which these results are gained, — which cannot but be consistent with the general na- ture of things, because it is Nature^s own. Here, then, we have what we were seeking for — a system working harmoniously and consistently towards a definite end, and securing positive results — a system, too, strictly educational, whether we regard the development of the faculties employed, or the acquisition of knowledge, as accompanying the development — a system in which the little child is the Pupil and Nature the educator. Having gained this stand-point, and with it a convic- tion that if we could only understand this great educa- tor's method of teaching and see the true connection between the means he employs and the end he attains, we should get a correct notion of what is really meant by education ; we next inquire, *' How are we to proceed for this purpose?" The ^answer is, by the method INVESTIGATION OF NATUEE's SYSTEM. 27 through which other truths are ascertained — by investi- gation. AVe must do what the chemist, the physician, the astronomer do, when they study their respective sub- jects. We must examine into the facts, and endeavor to ascertain, first, what they are ; secondly, what they mean. The bodily growth of the child from birth is, for instance, a faot, which we can all observe for ourselves. What does it mean ? It means that, under certain external influences — such as air, light, food — the child increases in material bulk and in physical power ; that these influences tend to integration, to the forming of a whole; that they are all necessary for that purpose; that the withholding of any one of them leads to disintegra- tion or the breaking up of the whole. But as we con- tinue to observe, we see, moreover, evidences of mental growth. We witness the birth of consciousness ; we see the mind answering, through the sense, to the call of the external world, and giving manifest tokens that impres- sions are both received and retained by it. The child " takes notice " of objects and actions, manifests feelings of pleasure or pain in connection with them and indi- cates a desire or will to deal in his own w^ay with the objects, and to take part in the actions. We see that this growth of intellectual power, shown by his increas- ing ability to hold intercourse with things about him, is closely connected with the growth of his bodily powers, and we derive from our observation one important prin- ciple of the Science of Education, that mind and body are mutually interdependent, and co-operate in promoting growth. We next observe that as the baby, under the com- bined influences of air, light, and food, gains bodily strength, he augments that strength by continually exer- 28 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. cising it ; he uses the fund he has obtained, and by using, makes it more. Exercise reiterated, almost unre- mitting ; unceasing movement, apparently for its o^A^n sake, as an end in itself ; the jerking and wriggling in the mother's arms, the putting forth of his hands to grasp at things near him, the turning of the head to look at bright objects ; this exercise, these movements, con- stitute his very life. He lives in them, and by them. He is urged to exercise by stimulants from without; but the exercise itself brings pleasure with it {Jahor ipsevolup- tas), is continued on that account, and ends in increase of power. What applies to the body, applies also, by the foregoing principle, to the intellectual powers, which grow with the infant's growth, and strengthen with his strength. Our observation of these facts furnishes us, therefore, with a second principle of education— i^«6M% of whatever kind ^rows hi/ exercise. Without changing our ground we supplement this principle by another. We see that the great educator who prompts the baby to exercise, and connects pleasure with all his voluntary movements, makes the exercise effectual for the purpose in view by constant reiteration. Perfection in action is secured by repeating the action thousands of times. The baby makes the s;ime movements over and over again ; the muscles and the nerves learn to work together, and habit is the result. Similarly in the case of the mind, the impressions communicated through the organs of sense grow from cloudy to clear, from obscure to defi- nite, by dint of endless repetition of the functional act. By the observation of these facts we arrive at a third principle of education : — Mxercise involves repetition, which, as regards hodily actions, ends in hahits of action, and as regards PRINCIPLES LEARNED FROM NATURE. 29 impressions received by the mind, ends m clearness of perceptmi. Looking still at our baby as lie pursues his education, we see that this manifold exercise is only apparently an end in itself. The true purpose of the teaching is to stimulate the pupil to the acquisition of knowledge, and to make all these varied movements subservient to that end. This exercise of faculty brings the child into contact with the properties of matter, initiates him into the mysteries of hard and soft, heavy and light, etc., the varieties of form, of round and flat, circular and angular, etc., the attractive charms of color. All this is knowledge gained by reiterated exercise of the faculties, and stored, up in the mind by its reten- tive power. We recognize the baby as a practical inquirer after knowledge for its own sake. But we further see him as a discoverer, testing the properties of matter by making his own experiments upon it. He knocks the spoon against the basin which contains his food; he is pleased with the sound produced by his action, and more than pleased, delighted, if the basin breaks under the operation. He throws his ball on the ground, and follows its revolution with his enraptured eye. What a wonderful experiment it is ! How charmed he is with the effect he has produced! He repeats the experiment over and over again with un- wearied assiduity. The child is surely a ISTewton, or a Farady, in petticoats. No, he is simply one of nature's ordinary pupils, inquiring after knowledge, and gaining it by his own unaided powers. He is teaching himself, under the guidance of a great educator. His self-teach- ing ends in development and growth, and it is therefore strictly educational in its nature. In view of these facts 30 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. we gain a fourth principle of the Science of Education. The exercise of the child'' s own powers, stimulated hut not super- seded hy the educator''s interference, ends loth in the acquisition of knowledge and in the invigoration of the powers for further acquisition. It is unnecessary to give further ilhistrations of our method. Every one will see that it consists essentially in the observation and investigation of facts, the most important of which is that we have before us a pupil going through a definite system of education. We are convinced that it is education^ because it develops fac- ulty, and therefore conduces to development and growth. By close observation we detect the method of the master, and see that it is a method which repudiates cramming rules and definitions, and giving wordy explanations, and secures the pupil's utmost benefit from the work by making him do it all himself through the exercise of his unaided powers. We thus get a clue to the construction of a Science of Education, to be built up, as it were, on the organized compound of body and mind, to which we give the name of baby. Continuing still our observa- tion of the phenomena it manifests, first, in its speech- less, and afterwards in its speaking condition, we gain other principles of education; and lastly, collegating and generalizing our generalizations, we arrive at a defini- tion of education as carried on by Nature. This may be roughly expressed thue : — Natural education cotisists in the development and training of the learner'' s powers, through in- fluences of various hinds, which are initiated ly action from without, met hy corresponding reaction from within. Then assuming, as we apj^ear to have a right to do, that this natural education should be the model or type Er>TJCATION DEFINED. 31 '-^f formal education, we somewbat modify our definition thus — Education is the developnent and training of the learner^ native powers hy means of instruction carried on through the conscious and persistent agency of the formal educator, and de- pends upon the established connection between the world without and the world within the mind — between the objective and the subjective. I am aware that this definition is defective, inasmuch as it ignores — or appears to ignore — the vast fields of physical and moral education. It will, however, serve my present purpose, which is especially connected with intellectual education. Having reached this point, and gained a general notion of a Science of Education, we go on to consider the Art of Education, or the practical application of the Science. We are thus led to examine the difference between Science and Art, and between Nature and^ Art. Science tells us what a thing is, and why it is what it is. It deals therefore with the nature of the thing, with its relations to other things, and consequently with the laws of its being. Art derives its rules from this knowledge of the thing and its laws of action, and says, "Do this or that with the thing in order to accomplish the end you have in view. If you act otherwise with it, you violate the laws of its being." Now the rules of Art may be carried out blindly or intelligently. If blindly, the worker is a mere artisan — an operative who follows routine, whose rule is the rule-of -thumb. If intelligent- ly, he is a true artist, who not only knows what he is doing, but why this process is right and that wrong, and who is furnished with resources suitable for guiding 32 THE SCIENCE AND ART OP EDUCATION. normal, and correcting abnormal, action. All the opera- tions of the true artist can be justified by reference to the principles of Science. But there is also a correlation between Nature and Art. These terms are apparently, but not really, opposed to each other. Bacon long ago pointed out the true distinction when he said, Ars est Somo additus Naturce — Art is Nature with the addition of Man — Art is Man's work added to (not put in the place of) Nature's work. Here then is the synthesis of Nature and Man which justifies us in saying that natural educa- tion is the type or model of formal, or what we usually call, without an epithet, education, and that the Art of Teaching is the application by the teacher of laws of Science,which he has himself discovered by investigating Nature. This is the key-stone of our position ; if this is firm and strong, all is firm and strong. Abandon this position and you walk in darkness and doubt, not know- ing what you are doing or whither you are wandering — at the mercy of every wind of doctrine. The artist in education, thus equipped, is ready not only to work himself, but to judge of the work of others. He sees, for instance, a teacher coldly or sternly demand- ing the attention of a little child to some lesson, say in arithmetic. The child has never been led up gradually to the point at which he is. He has none but confused notions about it. The teacher, without any attempt to interest the child, without exhibiting affection or sym- pathy towards him, hastily gives him some technical directions, and sends him away to profit by them as he may — simply " orders him to learn," and leaves him to do so alone. Our teacher says, — "This transaction is inartistic. The element of humanity is altogether want- PRACTICAL APPLICATIONS. 33 ing in it. It is not in accordance with the Science of Education; it is a violation of the Art. The great edu- cator, in his teaching, presents a motive and an object for voluntary action; and therefore excites attention towards the object by enlisting the feelings in the inquiry. He does not, it is true, show sympathy, because he acts by inflexible rules. But the human educator, as an artist, is bound not only to excite an interest in the work, but to sympathize with the worker. This teacher does neither. His practice ought to exemplify the for- mula, Ar8=Natura-\Somo. He leaves out both Natura and Homo. His Ars therefore=0." Another case presents itself. Here the teacher does not leave the child alone; on the contrary, is continually by his side. At this moment he is copiously " impart- ing his knowledge " of some subject to his pupil, whose aspect show3 that he is not receiving it, and who there- fore looks puzzled. The matter, whatever it is, has evi- dently little or no relation to the actual condition of the child's mind, in which it finds no links of association and produces no intellectual reaction, and which therefore does not co-operate wdth the teacher's. He patiently endures, however, because he cannot escape from it, the downpouring of the teacher's knowledge ; but it is obvious that he gains nothing from it. It passes over his mind as water passes over a duck's back. Tlie sub- ject of instruction, before unknown, remains unknown still. Our artist teacher, looking on, pronounces that this teaching is inartistic, as not being founded on Sci- ence. " The efticiency of a lesson is to be proved," he says, "by the part taken in it by the pupii; and here the teacher does all the work, the pupil does nothing at 34 TiBtE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDtTCATIOK. all. It is the teacher's miiidj DOt the learner's that is engaged in it. Our great master teaches by calling into exercise the learner^s powers, not by making a display of his own. The child will never learn anything so as to possess it for himself by such teaching as this, which accounts the exercise of his own faculties as having little or nothing to do with the process of learning." Once more; our student, informed in the Science of Education, watches a teacher who is giving a lesson on language — say, on the mother tongue. This mother tongue the child virtually knows how to use already; and if he has been accustomed to educated society, speaks and (if he is old enough to write) writes it cor- rectly. The teacher puts a book into his band, the first sentence of which is, "English grammar is the art of speaking and writing the English language correctly." Tiie child does not know what an "art" is, nor what is meant by speaking English " correctly." If he is intel- ligent he wonders whether he speaks it " correctly " or not. As to the meaning of " art," he is altogether at sea. The teacher is aware of the perplexity, and desir- ing to make him really understand the meaning of the word, attempts an explanation. "An art," he says (get- ting the definition from a dictionary), " is a power of doing something not taught by Nature." The child stares with astonishment, as if you were talking Greek or Arabic. What can be meant by a "power" — what by " being taught by Nature " ? The teacher sees that his explanation has only made what was dark before darker still. He attempts to explain his explanation, and the fog grows thicker and thicker. At last he gives it up, pronounces the child stupid, and ends by telling PEA.CTICAL APPLICATIONS. 35 him to leai'n by rote — that is, by hurdy-gurdy grind — the unintelligible words. That at least the child can do (a parrot could be taught to do the same), and he does it; but his mind has received no instruction whatever from the lesson — the intelligence which distinguishes the child from the parrot remains entirely uncultivated. Our teacher proceeds to criticise, "This is," he says, "altogther inartistic teaching." Our great master does not begin with definitions — and indeed gives no defini- tions — because they are unsuited to the pupil's state of mind. He begins with facts which the child can under- stand, because he observes them himself. This teacher should have begun with facts. The first lesson in Gram- mar (if indeed it is necessary to teach Grammar at all to a little child) should be a lesson on the names of the ol- jects in the room — objects which the child sees and hand- les, and knows by seeing . and handling — that is, has ideas of them in his mind. "What is the name of this thing and of that ?" he inquires, and the child tells him. The ideas of the things, and the names by which they are known, are already associated together in his con- sciousness, and he has already learned to translate things into words. The teacher may tell him (for he could not discover it for himself) that a name may also be called a noun. " What then," the teacher ihay say, " is a noun ? " The child replies, "^ noun is the name of a thing.'''' He has constructed a definition himself — a very simple one cer- tainly — but then it is a definition which he thoroughly understands because it is his own work. This mode of proceeding would be artistic, because in accordance with Nature. There would be no need to commit the defini- tion to memory, as a mere collection of words, because •obsei 36 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. what it means is already committed to the understand- ing which will retain it, because it represents facts al- ready known and appreciated. Thoroughly knowing things is the sure way to remember them." In some such way as this our expert brings the pro- cesses commonly called teaching to the touchstone of his Science, the Science which he has, built up on his observation of the processes of Nature. am afraid that, in spite of my illustrations, I may still have failed to impress you as strongly as I wish to do with the cardinal truth, that you cannot get the best results of teaching unless you understand the mind with which you have to deal. There are, indeed, teachers endowed with the power of sympathizing so earnestly with children, that in their case this sympathy does the work of knowledo^e, or rather it is knowledge uncon- sciously exercising the power proverbially attributed to it. The intense interest they feel in their work almost in- stinctively leads them to adopt the right way of doing it. They are artists without knowing that they are artists. But, speaking generally, it will be found that the only truly efficient director of intellectual action is one who understands intellectual action — that is, who under- stands the true nature of the mind which he is directing. It is this demand which we make on the teacher that constitutes teaching as a psychological art, and which renders the conviction inevitable that an immense num- ber of those who practise it do so without possessing the requisite qualifications. They undertake to guide a ma- chine of exquisite capabilities, and of the most delicate construction, without understanding its construction or the range of its capabilities, and especially without un- TEACHING A PSYCHOLOGICAL ART. 37 derstanding the fiiDdameiital principles of the science of mechanics. Hence the telling, cramming, the endless explaining, the note learning, which enfeeble and deaden the native powers of the child; and hence, as the final consequence, the melancholy results of instruction in our primary schools, and the scarcely less melancholy results in schools of higher aims and pretensions, all of which are the legitimate fruit of the one fundamental error which I have over and over again pointed out. In accordance with these views, it has been insisted on throughout the entire Course of Lectures, that teach- ing, in the true sense of the term, has nothing in common with the system of telling, cramming, and drilling, which very generally ursurps its name. The teacher, properly so called, is a man who, besides know- ing the subject he has to teach, knows moreover the nature of the mind which he has to direct in its acquisi- tion of knowledge, and the best methods by which this may be accomplished. He must know the subject of instruction thoroughly, because, although it is not he but the child who is to learn, his knowledge will enable him to suggest the points to which the learner's atten- tion is to be directed; and besides, as his proper func- tion is to act as a guide, it is important that he should have previously taken the journey himself . Bat we dis- countenance the notion usually entertained that the teacher is to know because he has to communicate his knowl- edge to the learuer; and maintain, on the contrary, that his proper function as a teacher does not consist in the communication of his own knowledge to the learner, but rather in such action as ends in the learner's acquisition of knowledge for himself. To deny this principle is to 38 THE SCIEXCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. give a direct sanction to telling and cramming, which are forbidden by the laws of education. To tell the child what he can learn for himself, is to neutralize his efforts; consequently to enfeeble his powers, to quench his interest in the subject, probably to create a distaste for it, to prevent him from learning how to learn — to defeat, in short, all the ends of true education. On the other hand, to get him to gain knowledge for himself stimulates his efforts, strengthens his powers, quickens his interest in the subject and makes him take pleasure in learning it, teaches him how to learn other subjects, leads to the formation of habits of thinking; and, in short, promotes all the ends of true education. The ob- vious objection to this view of the case is, that as there are many things which the child cannot learn by him- self, we must of course tell him them. My answer is, that the things which he cannot leain of himself are things unsuited to the actual state of his mind. His mind is not yet prepared for them; and by forcing them upon him prematurely, you are injuriously anticipating the natural course of things. You are cramming him with that which, although it may be knowledge to you, can- not possibly be knowledge to him. Knowing, in rela- tion to the training of the mind, is the result of learning; and learning is the process by which the child teaches himself; and he teaches himself — he can only teach him- self — by personal experience. Take, for instance, a por- tion of matter which, for some cause or other, interests hin). He exercises his senses upon it, looks at it, hand- les it, etc., throws it on the ground, flings it up into the air; and while doing all this, compares it with other things, gains notions of its color, form, hardness, weight, DIRECTION TOWARD SELF -ACTIVITY. 39 etc. The result is, that without any direct teaching from you, without any telling, he knows it through his personal experience — he knows it, as we say, of his own knowledge; and has not only learned by himself some- thing that he did not know before, but has been learn- ing how to learn. But supposing that you are not satis- fied with his proceeding thus naturally and surely in the career of self-acqnisition, and you tell him something which he could not possibly learn by this method of his own. Let it be, for instance, the distance of the sun from the earth, the superficial area of Sweden, etc. When you liave told him that the sun is 95 millions of miles from the earth, that the area of Sweden is so many square miles, you have evidently transcended his per- sonal experience. What you have told him, instead of being knowledge gained, as in the other case, at first hand, is information obtained probably at tenth or even fifteenth hand, even by yourself, and is therefore in no true sense of the word " knowledge " even to you, much less is it knowledge to him; and in telling it to him pre- maturely, you are cramming and not teaching him. Dr. John Brown (" Horse Subsecivse," Second series, p. 473) well says, — "The great thing with knowledge and the young is to secure that it shall be their own; that it be not merely external to their inner and real self, but shall go in siiccum et sanguinem; and therefore it is that the self- teaching that a baby and a child give themselves re- mains with them forever. It is of their essence, whereas what is given them ah extra, especially if it be received mechanically without relish, and without any energiz- ing of the entire nature, remains pitifully useless and wersh (insipid.) Try, therefore, always to get the resi- 40 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. dent teacher inside the shin, and who is for ever giving his lessons, to help you, and be on your side." Yon easily see from these remarks of Dr. Brown's that he means what I mean; — that matters of information obtained by other people's research, and which is true knowledge to those who have lawfully gained it, is not knowledge to a child, wdio has had no share in the acquisition, and your dogmatic imposilion of it upon his mind, or rather memory only, is of the essence of cramming. Such in- formation is merely patchwork laid over the substance of the cloth as compared with the texture of the cloth itself. It is on, but not o/, the fabric. This expansive and comprehensive principle — Avhich regards all learn- ing by mere rote, even of such matters as the multiplica- tion table or Latin declensions— before the child's mind has had some preliminary dealing with the facts of Num- ber or of Latin — as essentially cramming, and therefore anti-educational in its nature-will be of course, received or rejected by teachers, just in proportion as they receive or reject the conception of an art of teaching founded on psychological principles. And this brings me to the next point for special con- sideration. I said that the teacher who is to direct intel- lectual operations should understai^d what they are. He should, especially as a teacher of little children, examine well the method, already referred to, by which they gain all their elementary knowledge by themselves, by the exercise of their own powers. He should study children in the concrete, — take note of the causes which operate on the will, which enlist the feelings, which call forth the intellect, — in order tiiat he may use his knowledge with the best effect when he takes the place of the great TEACHING BASED ON PSYCHOLOGY. 41 natural educator. To change slightly Locke's words, he is to "consider the operation of tlie discerning faculties of a child as they are employed, about the objects which they have to do with; " and this because it is his proper function as a teacher to guide this operation. And if he wishes to be an accomplished teacher — a master of his art — be should further study the principles of Psychol- ogy, the true groundwork of his action, in the writings of Locke, Dugald Stewart, Bain, Mill, and others, who show us what these principles are. This study will give a scientific compactness and co-ordination to the facts which he has learned by his own method of investiga- tion. But it may be said, Do you demand all this prepara- tion for the equipment of a mere elementary teacher ? My reply is, I require it because he is an elementary teacher. Whatever may be done in the case of those children who are somewhat advanced in their career, and who have, to some extent at least, learnt how to learn, it is most of all important that in the beginning of instruction: and with 9 view to gain the most fruitful results from that instruction, the earliest teacher should be an adept in the Science and Art of Education. We should do as the Jesuits did in their famous schools, who, when they found a teacher showing real skill and knowl- edge in teaching the higher classes, promoted him to the charge of the lowest. There was a wise insight into human nature in this. Whether the child shall love or hate knowledge, — whether his fundamental notions of things shall be clear or cloudy, — whether he shall advance in his course as an intelligent being, or as a mere machine, — whether he shall, at last, leave school 42 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. stuffed with crude, undigested gobbets of knowledge, or possessed of knowledge assimilated by his own diges- tion, and therefore a source of mental health and strength, — whether he shall be lean, atrophied, weak, destitute of the power of self-government and self-direc- tion, or strong, robust, and independent in thought and action, — depends almost altogether on the manner in which his earliest instruction is conducted, and this again on the teacher's aquaintance with the Science and Art of Education. But besides knowing the subject of instruction, and knowing the Art of Education founded on the Science, the accomplished teacher should also know the methods of teaching devised or adopted by the most eminent practitioners of his art. A teacher, even when equipped in the manner I have suggested, cannot safely dispense with the experience of others. In applying principles to practice there is always a better or a worse manner of doing so, and one may learn much from knowing how others have overcome the difficulties at which we stumble. Many a teacher, when doubtful of the princij^les which constitute his usual rule of action, will gain confidence and strength by seeing their operation in the practice of others, or may be reminded of them when he has for the moment lost sight of them. Is it nothing to a teacher that PJato, Aristotle, Plutarch, Quintilian, in ancient times; Ascham, Rousseau, Comenius, Sturm, Pestalozzi, Ratich, Jacotot, Frobel, Richter, Herbart, Beneke, Dies- terweg, Arnold, Spencer, and a host of others in modern times, have written and w^orked to show him what edu- cation is both io theory and practice ? Does he evince THE HISTORY OF EDUCATIONS'. 43 anything ])at his own ignorance by pretending to despise or ignore their labors ? What would be said of a medi- cal practioner who knows nothing of the works or even the names of Celsus, Galen, Harvey, John Hunter, Sydenham, Bell, etc., and who sets up his empirical practice against the vast weight of their authority and experience? I need not insist on this argument; it is too obvious. Much time, therefore, has been devoted, during the year, to the History of Education in various countries and ages, and to the special work of some of the great educational reformers. In particular, the methods of Ascham, Ratich, Comenius, Pestalozzi, Jacotot, and Frobel have been minutely described and criticised. And now it is only right to endeavor, in conclusion, to answer the question which may be fairly asked, '^ After all, what have you really accomplished by this elaborate exposition of principles and methods ? You have had no training schools for the j^ractice of your students; it has all ended in talk." In reply to this inqiry or objec- tion, I have a few Avords to say. The students whom I have been instructing are for the most jDart teachers already, who are practising their art every day. My object has been so forcibly to stamp upon their minds a few great principles, so strongly to impress them with convictions of the truth of these principles, that it should be impossible, in the nature of things, for them as my disciples, to act in contradiction or violation of them. Whenever, in their practice, they are temj^ted to resort to drill and cram, I know, without being there to see, that the principles which have become a part of their being, because founded on the truths of nature recog- 44 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. nized by themselves, rise up before tbem and forbid the intended delinquency. Tn this way, without the appa- ratus of a training school, the work of a training school is done. But, in order to show that I am not talking at ran- dom, I will quote a few passages from exercises written by the students themselves, relative to their own expe- rience: — " Before attending these Lectures, my aim was that my pupils should gain a certain amount of knowledge. I now see how far more important is the exercise of those powers by which knowl- edge is gained. I am therefore trying to make them think for themselves. This, and the principle of repetition, which has been so much insisted upon, prevents us from getting over as much ground as formerly, but I feel that the work done is much more satisfactory than it used to be. I now try to adapt my plan to the pupil, not the pupil to my plan. I used to prepare a lesson (say in history) with great care; all the information which I thus laboriously gained, I imparted to my pupils in a few miautes. I now see that, though I was benefitted by the process, my pupils could have gained but little good from it. The fact of having a definite end in view gives me confidence in my practice. The effect of these Lectures, as a whole, has been to give me a new interest in my w^ork." "I knew before that the ordinary 'learn by rote ' method was not real education; but being unacquainted with the Science upon which the true art of instruction is founded, all my ideas on the subject were vague and changeable, and 1 often missed the very definite results of the ' hurdy gurdy ' system without altogether securing any better ones. "I have learned that the only education worthy of the name is based upon principles derived from the study of child nature, and from the observation of nature's methods of developing and training the inherent powers of children from the very moment of their birth. I have had my eyes opened to observe these pro- cesses, and now see much more in the actions of little children PRACTICAL RESULTS OF INSTRUCTIOIST. 45 than I formerly did. More than this, I have learned to apply the principles of nature to the processes of formal education, and by them to test their value and rightness, so that I need no longer be in doubt and darkness, but have sure grounds to pro. ceed upon under any variation of circumstances. " Lastly, I have learned to reverence and admire the great and good, who in different ages and various countries have devoted their minds to the principles or the practice of education, whose thoughts, whose successes, whose very failures are full of instruc- tion for educators of the present day, especially for those who, having been guided to the sure basis upon which true education rests, are in a position to judge of the value of their different theories and plans, and to choose the good and refuse the evil." " What you have done for me, I endeavor to do for my pupils. I make them correct their own errors; indeed, do their own work as much as possible. Since you have been teaching me, my pupils have progressed in mental development as they have never done in all the years I have been teaching. Though from want of power and early training I have not done you the justice which many of your pupils have, still you have set your seal upon me, and made me aim at being, what I was not formerly, a scientific teacher." "....And now to turn to the modifications introduced into my practice by these Lectures. I was delighted with them, and was more astonished as each week passed at what I heard. New light dawned upon me, and I determined to profit by it. I soon saw some of the prodigious imperfections in my teaching, and set about remedying them. My ' pupils should be self-teachers,' then I must treat them as such. I left off telling them so much, and made them work more. I discontinued correcting their exer- cises, and made them correct them themselves. I made them look over their dictation before they wrote it, and, when it was fin- ished, referred them to the text-book to see whether they had written it correctly. . . .Time would fail me to give in detail all the alterations introduced into my practice." "In conclusion, considering what my theory and practice were when I entered your class, I am convinced that the benefits 46 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. I have derived as regards both are as follows: — (1) I have learned to observe, (2) to admire, (3) to imitate, aud (4) to follow, Nature. My theories have become based on the firm foundation of princi- ples founded on facts; my practice (falling far short of the per- fection that I aim at attaining) is nevertheless in the spirit of it. And although in all probability I shall never equal any of these great teachers whose lives and labors you have described, yet I know that I shall daily improve in my practice if I hold fast to the principles that you have laid down. I consider you have shown me the value of a treasure that I unconsciously possessed — I mean the power of observing Nature, and therefore I feel towards you the same sort of gratitude that the man feels towardl the physician who has restored his sight." These expressions will show that my labors, however imperfect, have not ended in mere talk. And now it is time to set you free from the long demand I have made on your patience. I have studi- ously avoided in this Lecture tickling your ears with rhetorical flourishes. My great master, Jacotot, has taught me that " rhetoric and reason have nothing in common." 1 have therefore appealed to your reason. I certainly might have condensed my matter more; but long experience in the art of intellectual feeding has convinced me that concentrated food is not easy of digestion. But for this fault — if it be one — and for any other, whether of commission or omission, I throw myself on your indulgent consideration. THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION-ANALYSIS. A. The Science of Education. I. Objections encountered. 1. That there is no Science of Education 18 {a) The experience of Germany 19 2. That Teachers have Nothing to Learn .31 {a) That he who linows a subject can teach it 33 a But the problem is to get the pupil to learn S3 fi The teacher's scholarship may be an obstacle 33 II. Means of establishing a Science of Education. 34 1. Who is to guarantee its soundness ? 25 3. Not to be evolved from present practice 35 8, Nature's system to be followed. 26 III. Principles discovered by investigation 27 1. Mind and body interdependent.. 27 2. Faculty grows by exercise 38 3. Exercise ends in habits and perception 39 4. Exercise ends in acquisition and invigoration, 30 5. Definition of Natural Education 31 6. Definition of Education 31 B. The Art of Education. I. Science and Art distinguished ..33 1. Science deals with essence; art with action 33 2. Art is nature with man added 32 3. Art is the application of the science 32 II. Applications of Art based on Science 33 1. Teaching involves interest and sympathy... -.-33 2. Teaching exercises the pupil's powers .34 3. Teaching begins with known facts. 36 III. The teacher must understand the pupil's mind 36 1. Sympathy may do the work of knowledge 37 2 But teaching is a psychological art , . 37 48 THE SCIENCE AND ART OF EDUCATION. 3. Teaching vs. telling, cramming, drilling 38 IV. The teacher to direct the pupil to self-activity 38 1. The pupil unfitted for what he cannot learn by himself ..39 (a) Knowledge should be the pupil's own 39 2. Hence the teacher must know the pupil's mind. .41 (a) Especially important in primary work 41 a Promotion downward 43 C. The History of Education .43 I. Confidence and strength from practice of others 43 D. The Practical Results of the Training of Teachers. I. Extracts from letters - - 44 THE THEORY OR SCIENCE OF EDUCATION.* It is proposed in this course of three Lectures, to treat of, 1st, The Theory or Science of Education; 2d, The Practice or Art of Education; 3d, Educational Methods, or special applications of the Science and Art. The Science of Education is sometimes called Peda- gogy or Paideutics, and the Art of Education, Didactics. There seems, however, no need for these technical terms. The expressions Science and Art of Education are ex- plicit, and sufficiently answer the purpose. The Theory or Science, as distinguished from the Prac- tice or Art, embraces an inquiry into the principles on which the Practice or Art depends, and which give reasons for the efficiency or inefficiency of that practice. I do not profess in this Lecture to construct the Science of Education — that still waits for its development. As, however, its ultimate evolution depends very much on a general recognition of its value and importance, I pro- pose to indicate a few of its principles, as well as some of the sources from which they may be derived ; and further, to show the need for their application to the present condition of the art. In the ]jrogress of knowledge, practice ever precedes theory. We do, before we enquire why we do. Thus the practice of language goes before the investigation ♦Delivered at the House of the Society of Arts, on 12th July, 1871 ; Professor Huxley, LL.D., in the Chair. C 49 60 THEORY OF EDUCATION. into its laws, and the Art before the Science of Music. It is the same with Education. The practice has long existed; but the theory has, as yet, been only partially recognized. As, however, theory re-acts on practice, and improves it, we may hope to see the same results in Education, when it shall be scientifically investigated. As the terms Education and Instruction will fre- quently occur in these Lectures, it may be convenient at the outset to enquire into their exact meaning. / The verb educare, from which we get our word educate, differs from its primitive (?ns in th6 same way, while carefully repeating from the beginning. This process, the laying in of materials, was repeated until a page or two of the book was thoroughly known — that is, known so that the pupils could go on with any sen- tence of the French text from memory, when the first word was given, or quote the whole sentence in which any given word occurred, while they had at the same time a general idea of the meaning. The teacher now began, through his interpreter, to put questions, in or- der to test their knowledge, not only of the sentences, as wholes, but also of the component phrases and words. As the process of learning by heart, and repeating from the beginning, went on, the questions became more close and specific, so as to induce in the pupils' minds analysis of the text into its minutest elements. When about half the first book of T6lemaque was thus intimately known, Jacotot told them to relate in their own French, good or bad, the substance, not the exact words, of this or that paragraph of the portion that they knew, or to 142 EDtrCATlONAL METHODS. read a paragraph of another part of the book, and write down or say what it was about. He was surprised at their success in this synthetic use of their fund of ma- terials. He praised their achievements; saw, but took no notice of, the blunders; or if he did, it was simply to require the pupils to correct them themselves by refer- ence to the text (just as Ascham did). He reckoned on the power of the process itself, which involved an active exercise of the mind, to correct blunders which arose from inadvertence. In a very short time, these youths, learning, repeating, answering questions, were able to relate anything that they had first read over. Compo- sitions of different kinds, their text furnishing both sub- jects and language, were then given, and it was found that as they advanced they spontaneously recognized in their practice the rules of orthography and grammar (without having learned them), and at length wrote a language not their own better (as Jacotot somewhat extravagantly declared) — that is with a more complete command of the force, correctness, and even grace of style — than either himself or any of his colleagues. All were surprised at the result of his experiment, but Jacotot alone perceived the principles involved in it. He saw — (1.) That his pupils had learned French, not through his knowledge of it — the circumstances forbade that — but through the exercise of their own minds upon the matter of the text, which they had committed to mem- ory. If they had had any teacher, the book had been their teacher. It was from that source they had derived all their knowledge, and the exercise of their observing, remembering, comparing, generalizing, judging, and JACOTOT. 143 analyzing powers upon it had suppled them with the materials they employed in their synthetic applications. (2.) He saw that, though he had been nominally their teacher, they had really taught themselves, — that the acquisitions they had made were their own acquisitions, the fruit of their own mental exertions, — that the method by which they had learned was really their method, not his. (3) He deduced from this observation, that the func- tion of the teacher is that of an external moral force, always in operation to excite, maintain and direct the mental action of the pupils, — to encourage and sympa- thize with his efforts, but never to supersede them. After awhile Jacotot presented, in the form given below, the result of his meditations on the principles involved in his experiments. This precept for the guid- ance of the teacher, is in fact — as will be at once seen — an epitome of the method of the learner, and indeed of all learners, whatever be their age, or the subject they may wish to learn so as really to know. This, then, is the fundamental precept of Jacotot's method: — Ilfaut apprendre quelque chose, et y rapporter tout le reste ; i. e.^ the pupil must learn something, and refer all the rest to it. When further explanation was de- manded, he would reply to this effect: — (1) Learn — i. e., learn so as to know thoroughly, per- fectly, immovably (imperturhahlement) , as well six months or twelve months hence as now — something, a portion of a book, for instance. (2) Repeat that something, the portion learned, incessantly — i. e.y every day or fre- quently (sans cesse), from the beginning, without any omission, so that no part of it be forgotten. (3) Reflect 144 EDUCATIONAL METHODS. upon the matter thus acquired — analyze it, decompose it, re-combine the elements, make it a real mental pos- session in all its details, interpret the unknown by it. (4) Verify —test general remarks — i. e.^ grammatical and other rules — by comparing them with the facts — the phraseology and constructions which you already know^ In brief, learn, repeat^ reflect, verify, or if you like, learn, verify, repeat, reflect ; so that you learn first, the order of the other processes is unimportant. Know facts, then; bring all the powers of the mind to bear upon them; and repeat what you know, to prevent its being lost. This is the method of Jacotot, which may be otherwise repre- sented thus: — In all your learning, do homage to the authority of facts. (1) Apprenez. — Learn them accurately; grasp them firmly; apprehend, so as to know them. (2) Rapporte%. — Compare them with each other, inter- pret one by another, make the known explain the un- known, generalize them, classify them, analyze them into their elements, re-combine the elements, attach new knowledge to the pegs already fixed in your mind. (3) Repe.tez. — Don't let the facts slip away from you. To lose them, is to waste the labor you spent in acquiring them. Keep them, therefore, continually before you by repetition. (4) Veriflez. — Test general principles, said to be found- ed on them by confronting them with your facts. Bring your grammatical rules to the facts, and explain the facts by them. In all this process, the pupil is employing natural means for a natural end. He is doing what he did in JACOTOT. 145 the case of the pile-driving machine — observing, com- paring, investigating, discovering, inventing: and if we apply the tests — Mr. Marcel's or any other — of a good method, we find, them all in this, which is the method of the pupil, teaching himself under the direction of the master. It is, in short, as said before, the method by which all learners — whether the little child in nature's infant school, or the adult man in the school of science — learn whatever they really know. In both cases, the essential basis of all mental progress is a knowledge of facts — a knowledge which, to be fruitful, must be gained at first hand, and. not on the report of others, must be strict and accurate, and must be firmly retained. These are the essential conditions for the subsequent operations by which knowledge is appropriated, assimilated, and incorporated with the organic life of the mind. On this point, however, I cannot further dwell. In order to make the principles of Jacotot's method clearer by a practical example, I will give, in some de- tail an account of his plan of teaching Reading. In this method, the sacred mysteries of h-a ha; h-e, he, in pronouncing which. Dr. Bell gravely tells us " the sound is an echo to the sense,''^ are together exploded; those columns too, all symmetrically arranged in the ves- tibule of the temple of knowledge to the dismay of the young pilgrim to its shrine, are entirely ignored. The sphynx of the alphabet never asks him what see-a-tee spells, nor devours him if he fails to give the impossible answer, cat. The child who has already learnt to speak by hearing and using whole words, not separate letters ' — saying hahy^ not lee-a^ lee-wy — has whole words placed 146 EDUCATIONAL METHODS. before him. These words are at first treated as pic- tures, which have names that he has to learn to associ- ate with the forms, in. the same way that he already calls a certain animal shape a cow^ and another a dog, and knows a certain face as mamma's, and another as papa's. Suppose we take a little story, which begins thus: — "Frank and Robert were two little boys about eight years old." There is, of course, a host of reasons to show the un- reasonableness of beginning to teach reading by whole words. We ought, we are told, to begin with the ele- ments, put them together for the child, arrange words in classes for him, keep all difficulties out of his way, proceed step by step from one combination to another, and so on. Reflecting, however, that Nature does not teach speaking nor give her object-lessons in this way, but first presents wholes, aggregates, compounds, which her pupil's analytic faculty resolves into their elements, the teacher sets aside all these speculative difficulties; and, believing in the native capacity of the child to ex- ercise on printed words the same powers which he has. already exercised on spoken words, forms the connection between the two by saying to the child, " Look at me '" (not at the book). He then very deliberately and dis- tinctly, but without grimacing, utters the sound "PVank" two or three times, and gets the child to do the same repeatedly, so as to secure from the first a clear and firm articulation. He then points to the printed word, repeats *' Frank " and requires the child, in view of it, to utter the same sound several times. The first word is learned and known. The teacher adds "and." The child reads "Frank and," The teacher adds "Robert," JACOTOT's method ILLXTSTRATED. l47 The child reads "Frank and Robert." The teacher asks, "Which is * Robert'? 'and'? What is that word?" (pointing to it), "and that?" etc. The teacher says, "Show me ' and,' ' Robert,' 'Frank,' in the same page- in any page." The same process is repeated with the rest of the words of the sentence, and comes out thus: — Frank Frank and Frank and Robert Frank and Robert were, etc. ; the pupil is told each word once for all, and repeats from the beginning, that nothing may be forgotten. By thus (1) learning, (2) repeating, he exercises percep- tion and memory. Suppose that the next sentences are — "They were both very fond of playing with balls, tops, and marbles. " One day, as they were playing in the garden, it began to thunder very loud and to rain very hard. "So they ran under the apple tree." All the words of these sentences may be gradually learned, in the same way, in four, six, or ten lessons. There is no need for haste. The only thing needful is accurate knowledge— to have something (quelque chose) thoroughly, perfectly, immoveably known [imperturhahle- ment apprise). The child has up to this point imitated the sounds given him, has associated them with the signs, has exer- cised observation and memory; so that wherever he meets with these words in his book, the sign will suggest ^- 148 EDUCATIONAL METHODS. the sound — or given the sound, he will at once point out the sign. The teacher may now, if he thinks fit, begin to exer- cise the child's analytical and inductive faculties; not, however, necessarily on any symmetrical plan. He says, *' Look at me," and pronounces very distinctly f-rank^ repeating the process in view of the printed word. He does the same with f-ond and f-ad^ and asks the child, "Which letter is/?" (the articulation, not the name (?/). The child points it out, and in this way / (that is, the articulation, the power of it) is learned and known. The teacher covers over \\\q f\\\ frarik^ and asks what is left. The child replies " rank." The teacher pro- ceeds as before, uttering r-ank, and requiring the child to read for himself H-ohert, r-ain, r-an, and thus the artic- ulation of initial r is mastered. In the same way, the articulation / is gained from l-Utle and l-oud Nor do the mutes, as h and^, present any difficulty. The utterance of h-oysy b-oth, h-alls, h-egan suggests the necessary config- uration of the organs, and the function of these letters is apprtciated. The teacher may next, if he pleases, though it is not necessary to anticipate the natural results of the process, try the synthetic or combining powers of the child. He writes on a black-board, in priming letters, the words, fold, falls, fops, fain, frond, fray, raij, rap, lank, flank, last, loth, lops, let, laWy lap, hank, hat, hold, hay, blank, etc., and requires the child, without any help whatever, to read them himself. Most children will do this at once. If there is any difficulty, a simple reference, to the words Frank, little, boys, etc., without any explanation, will immediately dispel it. jacotot's method illustrated. 149 It is not necessary, I repeat, for tlie teacher thus to anticipate the inevitable results of the process. The quickened mind of the pupil will, of its own accord, ana- lyze and combine, in its natural instinct to inter^^ret the unknown by the known. The only essential parts of the process are learning and repeating from the begin- ning; all the rest depends on these. And in guiding the mind of the pupil to the intellectual use of his materials, the teacher should be under no anxiety about the length of the process. He should often practise a masterly inactivity; should know how to gain time by losing it — to advance by standing still. If he have a genuine belief in the native capacity of his pupils' minds, he need have no fear as to the result. The pupil (l) learning, (2) rejieating, (3) reflecting — i. e., analyz- ing or de-composing, (4) re-combining, is all along em- ploying his active powers as an observer and investi- gator, and learns at length to read accurately and to articulate justly. The names of the letters may be given him when he has thus learned their powers. It is a con- venience, nothing more, to know them. The young carpenter saws and planes no better for knowing the names of his tools. Such, then, is Jacotot's method applied to the teaching of Reading. It ought, by theory, to accomplish this object, and it does. While philosophers are discussing the propriety of learning a subject without beginning secundum artem at what they call the beginning, the child, like the epic poet, dashes in medias res, and arrives at the end long before the discussion is over. A young inves- tigator of this school, initiated in the habit of actively employing his mind on the subject of study, laughs at 150 EDUCATIONAL METHODS. the ingenious arrangements, however kindly meant, furnished by various spelling-book makers, to aid him in his career. He turns aside from ram^ rem, rim, rom, rum, — adge, edge, idge, odge, and udge, — indeed, from all the scientific permutations made for him on the assumption that he cannot make them himself. He is told that there is a go-cart provided to help him to walk, — that the food is ready minced for his eating: but he chooses to walk and comminute his food for himself. Why should we prevent him ? This method is essentially the same as Mr. Curwen's " Look and Say Method," and that of the little book en- titled "Reading without Spelling, or the Teacher's Delight;" the only difference being that the teacher here employs the process consciously as a means of developing and training the mental powers as well as of teaching to read, of education as well as of instruction. My pleasant task is now done. I have left much unsaid that I wish to say; and in criticising others, have, no doubt, exposed myself to criticism. As that is the common lot, I ought not to complain of it. I will, in conclusion, go over the main points which I have touched upon in the three lectures. In my first Lecture I endeavored to show that educa- tion is both a science and an art, and that the principles of the science account for, explain, and give laws to the processes of the art; that the educator's own education is incomplete without a knowledge of these principles, which are ultimately grounded on those of Physiology, Psychology, and Ethics; that this knowledge is useful, not only in its application to the normal phenomena occurring in practice^ but especially to the abnormal. REVIEW. 1 5 1 which demand for their treatment all the resources of the science; that knowledge of this kind is comparatively rare among educators, and that its rarity is the main cause of the unsatisfactory condition of much of our education. In the second Lecture, assuming the education of the educator, and confining myself to teaching, or the art of intellectual education, I endeavored to show that the teacher ought, in the first place, to have a just concep- tion of his relation to his pupil; that this was gained by his seeing in the child one who had learned, or taught himself, all that he already knew, and inferring, there- fore, that it was his business to continue the process already begun; that it thus appeared that the child's process of learning was, to a great extent, a guide to the teacher's process of teaching, and that tlie joint opera- tion in which both were engaged resolved itself into the superintendence, or direction, by the teacher, of the pupil's method of self-instruction. In this Lecture, I have shown that a ^nethod of teaching any subject is a special mode of applying the art of teaching; that to bf^ a good method, it must have cer- tain characteristics, deduced from successful practice, and ultimately referable to the principles of the science of education, and I have described, and to some extent criticized, a few well-known methods. My simple aim, in these Lectures, has been to lead the educator to form a high idea of his work; to show that there are principles irnderlying his practice which it is important for him to know, and to induce him to study and apply them, not only for his own sake, but as a protest against the despotism of routine, which has so 152 EDUCATIONAL METHODS. long hindered education from claiming its professional riohts in Eng^land. I trust I have not altoi>:ether failed to accomplish my purpose. EDUCWIOML METHODS-ANALYSIS, I. Science, Art, and Method distinguished 110 II. Method the test of the Art 1 1 (; 1. Best method that which teaches the pupil to think-_!17 (a) Centrifugal and centripetal forces 117 2. Characteristics of a good method. 118 {a) Beginning with the tangible 118 (6) Employing first analysis, then synthesis 118 (c) Making the pupil an explorer ..119 {d) Leading him from the known to the unknown ...l !9 {e) Imparting only clear ideas 119 (/) Leading to mental self-direction _ 119 {g) Dispensing with explanations 119 3. The teacher must know the mind he deals with 120 III. MarceVs doctrine of Methods 120 1. A good method favors self-teaching 121 2. A good method is in accordance with nature 121 3. A good method comprises analysis and synthesis 121 4. A good method is both practical and comparative. .122 5. A good method is an instrument of mental culture. .122 IV. Roger Ascham's method of teacliing Latin. 1. Its leading features: {a) Memorizing of material to work with... 124 {b) Translation of Cicero's letters 124 (c) Application of grammatical principles learned 124 (rf) Review 124 {e) Reproduction of the letter in English 124 (/) Re-translation of the letter into Latin ..124 {g) Comparison with the original . 125 {h) Translation of English into Latin he has not seen. 127 2. Characterized by a complete mastery of a little 127 {a) Prime requisite to good method. 128 153 154 EDUCATIONAL METHODS. a The end should be to do a little well 128 ft Not many things but much 128 (b) This principle forgotten in some modern systems. .128 (c) The school not for the few, but for the many 129 V. Princij)les of the German Educators of the nth Century. -12d 1. Proceed from the concrete to the abstract. 130 2. Analysis precedes synthesis 130 8. The pupil teaches himself, uncle?' direction .130 4. The interested pupil needs no coercion 130 5. Only what is understood should be memorized 130 VI. Pestalozzi, 1. His character.. 130 (rt) A man uneducated and undisciplined 131 ip) His mind active and enterprising 131 (c) His moral power immense 131 a A teacher because a philanthropist 132 {d) Did not conceive the higher end of training 132 2. His method of teaching 133 (a) Form taught without superintendence 133 (5) Number tdiWgXit w'lih. imperfect superintendence. .134 a But begun with concrete objects ..134 ft Employed the pupil's observation 134 (c) Language taught by names, not things. .135 « Object-teaching by ?i(a^r?2es of properties 137 ft To be taught through slavish routine 137 y Spelling-books for inarticulate babies 137 3. Little to be gained directly from his method. . 138 VII. Jacotot, an educator of mind, rather than of forces 138 1. His history ...138 2. His characteristics: {a) A dull and "objectionable" scholar.. 139 (p) Self-taught even from childhood .140 3. His style of teaching 140 {a) To excite, maintain, and direct mental energy.. .140 4. History of his methods: {a) Effort to teach Flemish children French .141 (6) Principles established by the experiment 143 ANALYSIS. 155 a The language learned by direct study 143 /5 The pupils their own teachers 143 X The function of the teacher to direct mental action 143 5. Principle: Learn one thing, and refer the rest to that. 144 (a) Learn, so as to know thoroughly 144, 145 (b) Repeat, so that nothing be forgntten 144, 145 (c) Reflect, so that it becomes a mental possession. 144, 145 (d) Verify, by comparison with facts 144, 145 6. Illustration of Jacotot's method 146 (a) Alphabetical teaching of reading discarded 140 (&) First, the word-method. 147 (c) Then the phonic method 148 (d) The teacher's masterly inactivity 15o (e) It does teach the pupil to read 153 V 1 1 r. Review of the previous lectures 1 52 PRINCIPLES OF THE SCIENCE OF EDUCATION. I. General Peinciples. 1. Evei'y child is an organism, furnished by the Cre- ator with inherent capabilities of action, and surround- ed by material objects which serve as stimulants to ac- tion. 2. The channels of communication between the ex- ternal stimulants and the child's inherent capabilities of action are the sensory organs, by whose agency he re- ceives impressions. _ 3. These impressions, or sensations, being incapable of resohition into anything: simpler than themselves, are the fundamental elements of all knowledge. The de- velopment of the mind bsing with the reception of sen- sation. 4. The grouping of sensations forms perceptions, Avhich are registered in the mind as conception of ideas.* The development of the mind, which begins with the reception of sensations, is carried onward by the forma- tion of ideas. 5. The action and reaction between the external stimulants and the mind's inherent powers, involving * By "conception," or "idea," is meant tlie trace, residuum, or ideal sub- stitute wliicli represents the real perception. 156 GENEEAL PRINCIPLES. l57 processes of developraentt and implying growth, may be regarded as constituting a system of natural education. 6. A system of education implies — (1) an educating influence, or educator; (2) a being to be educated, or learner; (3) matter for the exercise of the learner's pow- ers; (4) a method by which the action of these powers is elicited; and (5) an end to be accomplished. 7. In the case before us, the educating influence, or educator, is God, represented by Nature, or natural cir- cumstances; the being to be educated, or learner, a child; the matter, the objects and phenomena of the ex- ternal world; the method, the processes by which this matter is brought into communication with the learner's mind; and the object or end in view, intellectual de- velopment and growth. In view of the different agencies concerned in effect- ing this intellectual education, and of their mutual re- lation, we arrive at the following: II. Principles of Natural Education. T. Nature, as an educator, recognizes throughout all his operations the inherent capabilities of the learner. The laws of the learner's being govern the educator's action, and determine what he does, and what he leaves undone He ascertains, as it were, from the child him- self how to conduct his education. II. The natural educator is the prime mover and di- rector of the action and exercise in which the learner's education consists. III. The natural educator moves the learners's mind t The term "development" is here employed for that unfolding of the natural powers of which "growth" is the registered result. 158 PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION. to action by exciting his interest in the new, the won- derful, the beautiful; and maintains this action through the 25leasure felt by the learner in the simple exercise of his own powers — the pleasure of developing and growing by means of acts of observing, experimenting, discover- ing, inventing, performed by himself — of being his own teacher. IV. The natural educator limits himself to supply- ing material suitable for the exercise of the learner's powers, stimulating these powers to action, and main- taining their action. He co-operates with, but does not supersede, this action. V. The intellectual action and exercise in which the learner's education essentially consists nre performed by himself alone. It is what he does himself, not what is done for him, that educates him. VI. The child is therefore a learner who educates himself under the stimulus and direction of the natural educator. VII. The learner educates himself by his personal experience; that is, by the direct contact of his mind at Urst hand with the matter — object of fact — to be learned. VIII. The mind, in gaining knowledge for itself, proceeds from the concrete to the abstract, from par- ticular facts to general facts, or principles; and from principles to laws, rules, and definitions; and not in the inverse order. IX. The mind, in gaining knowledge for itself, pro- ceeds from the indefinite to the definite, from the com- pound to the simple, from complex aggregates to their component parts, from the component parts to their constitutional elements — by the method of Investiga- NATURAL EDITCATION. 159 tion. It employs both Analysis and Synthesis in close connection. X. The learner's process of self-edncation is condi- tioned by certain laws of intellectual action. These are — (1) the Law of Consciousness; (2) of Attention, inchid- ing that of Individuation, or singling out; (3) of Relativ- ity, including those of Discrimination and Similarity; (4) of Retentiveness, including those of Memory and Recollection; (5) of Association, or Grouping; (6) of Reiteration, or Repetition, including that of Habit. XL Memory is the result of attention, and attention is the concentration of all the powers of the mind on the matter to be learned. The art of memory is the art of paying attention. XII. Ideas gained by personal experience are sub- jected by the mind to certain processes of elaboration ; as classification, abstraction, generalization, judgment, and reasoning. These processes imply the possession of ideas gained by personal experience, and they are all performed by the youngest child who possesses ideas. XIIL The learner's knowledge consists in ideas, gained from objects and facts by his own powers, and conscious- ly possessed — not in words. The natural educator, by his action and influence, secures the learner's possession of clear and definite primary ideas. Such ideas, so gained, are necessarily incorporated with the organic life of the learner's mind, and become a permanent part of his being. XIV. Words are the conventional signs, the objec- tive representatives, of ideas, and their A^alue to the learner depends on his previous possession of the ideas 160 PRINCIPLES OP EDUCATION. they represent. The words, without the ideas, are not knowledge to him. XV. Personal experience is the condition of develop- ment, v/hether of the body, mind, or moral sense. What the child does himself, and loves to do, forms his habits of doing; but the natural educator, by developing his powers and promoting their exercise, also guides him to the formation of right habits. He therefore encourages the. physical development which makes the child healthy and robust, the intellectual development w^hich makes him thoughtful and reasonable, and the moral develop- ment which makes h'v.u capable of appreciating the beau- tiful and the good. This threefold development of the child's powers tends to the formation of his bodily, men- tal, and moral character, and prepares him to recognize the claims of religion. XVI. Education as a whole consists of development and training, and may therefore be defined as "the cul- tivation of all the native powers of the child, by exercis- ing them in accordance with the laws of his being with a view to development and growth." The above general facts or principles being the results of an analytical investigation into the nature of the child as a thinking being, and. into the processes by which his earliest education is carried on, constitute the Science of Natural Education. But as it is the same mind which is to be cultivated throughout, Natural Education is the pattern or model of Formal Education, and consequently the Science of Natural Education is the Science of Education in gen- eral. THE ART OF EDITCATION. 161 The formal educator or teacher, therefore, who pro- fesses to take lip and continue the education begun by Nature, is to found his scheme of action upon the above principles, and in supplementing and compliment- ing the natural educators's work, he is to proceed on the same lines. He is not to intrude modes of action which contravene and neutralize the principles of natural edu- cation. III. The Art of Education. 1. Art is the application of the laws of Science to a given subject under given circumstances. 2. The Art of Education, or Teaching, is the explicit display of the implicit principles of the Science of Edu- cation. 3. The principles already stated set the child or pu- pil before us as one who gains knowledge for himself, at first hand, by the exercise of his own native powers, through personal experience, and therefore as a learner who teaches himself. 4 This is the central principle of the Art of Teach- ing. It serves as a limit to define both the functions of the formal teacher, and the nature of the matter on which the learner's powers are first to be exercised — that is, of the subject of instruction. 5. The limit which includes also excludes — it pro- scribes as well as prescribes. The teacher who regards the child as a learner who is to teach himself through personal experience is therefore interdicted from doing anything to interfere with the learner's own method, — from telling, cramming, explaining, and even from cor- recting, merely on his own authority, the learner's blun- ders. The function assigned him by the Science of Edu- 162 PRINCIPLES OP EbtJCAriOi^; cation is that of a stimulator, director, and superintend- ent of the learner's work^ and to that office he is to con- fine himself. 6. But the limit in question determines also the character of the niaiter on which tlie learner's powers are to be first exercised. If he is to teach himself, he can only do so by exercising his mind on concrete ob- jects or actions — on facts. These furnish him with ideas. He cannot teach himself by abstractions, rules, and definitions, packed up for him in words by others; for these do not furnish him with ideas of his own. In all that he has to learn he must begin with facts — that is, with personal experience. It is clear, then, that the con- ception of the learner as a self-teacher determines both the manner in which he is to be taught and the means. 7. This notion of the Art of Teacliing, which has specially in view the period of the child's life when the formal teacher first takes him in hand, in order to develop nnd train his mind, is capable of general appli- cation. It applies therefore, with the requisite modifi- cations, to instruction properly so called, which consists in the orderly and systematic building of knowledge into the mind, with a definite object. 8. The teacher, therefore, educates by instructing, and instructs by educating. Education and instruction are different aspects of the same process. 9. The sum of what has been laid down is, that the Art of Education consists in the practical application of principles gained by studying the nature of the child; the central principle, which governs all the rest, being that it is what tlie child does for and by himself that educates him. PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION-ANALYSIS. I. General Principles. 1. The child is an organism. 155 2. He receives impressions by the sensory organs 155 3. These sensations are the elements of knowledge 155 4. The grouping of sensations forms perceptions .155 5. Action and re action constitute education 156 6. A system of education requires: {a) An educator, (b) a learner, (c) matter, {d) method, {e) an end 156 7. In natural education Nature is the teacher 156 II. Principles of the Science of Education. 1. Nature recognizes inherent capabilities 156 2. The teacher is the mover and director. 157 3. The learner's mind is stimulated by being interested . . 157 4. Suitable material provided, the pupil does the work. 157 5. The child is educated by what he does himself 157 6. The child educates himself under direction 157 7. 1'he learner educates himself by personal experience. 157 8. The mind proceeds from concrete to abstracts .157 9. The mind employs both analysis and synthesis 158 10. Self-education is conditioned by the laws of: ifi) Consciousness, (p) attention, {c) relativity, id) re tentiveness, (6) association, (/) repetition 158 11. Memory is the result of attention 158 12. Sensations are elaborated by classification, etc 158 13. The learner's knowledge is measured by ideas, not words 158 14. Words valuable only to represent ideas possessed 159 15. Personal experience a condition of development 159 16. Education consists of development and training 159 163 164 ANALYSIS. Ill, Prineiples of the Art of Education. 1. Art the application of generals to particulars 160 2. The Art of Education explicit display of the Science. 160 3. The child is a learner who teaches himself. .160 4. This is the central principle. 160 5. Telling, cramming, explaining, interdicted 161 6. The pupil must begin with personal experience 161 7. This art is to be practically applied to instruction.. 161 8. Education by instruction, instruction by education. 162 9. What the child does is what educates him 163 \ THEORIES OF TEACHING WITH THEIR CORRESPONDING PRACTICE.=^ There are, as we know, many methods of teaching. There are, for instance, Ascham's, Hamilton's, and Ollen- dorf's method of teaching languages, and Pestalozzi's and Jacotot's methods of teaching generally; there are the methods of the old Grammar School, and those of the Dame Schools, and of the Kindergarten and a great many others. Each of these has a theory which under- lies it and accounts for its specialty. Into the details, however, of various methods I am not about to enter; my purpose is the more general one of endeavoring to ascer- tain the leading spirit which pervades them all, inde- pendently, for the most part, of the details. A little consideration of the subject, will, I believe, justify us in taking, as the criterion of this spirit, the aspect under which we regird the relation of the teacher to the pupil, and of both to their joint work. One teacher may regard the communication of his own ideas to his pupil as his proper and special function, and their minds as a sort tabula rasa, on which he has to write himself- According to this theory, he will then treat them merely as recipients, and will carefully tell them what they ought to receive, and how they ought to receive it. In placing facts before them, he will tell them what conclusions *Eead at a meeting of the Education Department of the Social Science Association, Monday, 26th April 1869. 165 166 THEORY OF EDUCATION. they are to draw from them. When his pupils commit faults he will correct them himself even though no use whatever is made of the corrections by them. He will be so careful that the pupil should jiot go wrong that he will continually interfere with his free action, by urging him to aim at this point and avoid that — in short, he will assume that the ability of the pupil to observe, compare, reason, think, depends almost entirely upon his own continual telling, showing, explaining, and thinking for him. Such a teacher evidently has a mean opinion of the pupil's powers, he assumes that they cannot work without the constant intervention of his own, and con- siders that in the joint operation carried bn by himself and his pupil, he takes, and ought to take, the larger share. Another teacher entertains a very different view of the relation he sustains to his pupil. He sets out, indeed, with a different estimate of the pupil's native ability, which he regards as competent to observe facts, compare them together and draw inferences respecting them without any authoritative interference on his part. He sees this native faculty at work in daily life, and therefore knows that it can be employed in self-instruc- tion. He trusts in it, therefore, and never tells the pupil what he can find out for himself; he does not superfluously explain relations between objects or facts which explain themselves by the simple juxtaposition of the objects and facts. He does not correct blunders which almost invariably arise either from insufficient knowledge or from carelessness: in the one case he requires the pupil to gain the knowledge required, or leaves the blunder for subsequent correction; in the THE OLD EDUCATION, AND THE NEW» 167 other lie demands more attention, and expects the pupil to correct his own bhmders. He feels no inordinate anxiety about his pupil's occasional errors of judgment, provided that his mind is actively engaged in the subject under instruction, in short, seeing that the child is pur- suing,' in a natural way, his own self-teaching, he is anxious not to supersede his efforts by any needless, and probably injurious, interference with the process. He judges, therefore, that in the joint operation referred to it is the pupil and not himself who is to take the far larger share, inasmuch as the pupil's ultimate power of thinking will be in the inverse ratio of the teacher's thinking for him. It is evident that these different conceptions of the relation between the teacher and the pupil, are not easily reconcilable with each other, and that the practi- cal results must be respectively very different. These results I will not now endeavor to estimate, but address myself to my immediate purpose, which is to maintain the latter theory, and to show that learning is essentially self-tuition, and teaching the super intende7ice of the process; and, in short, that compendiously stated, the essential function of the teacher consists in helping the pupil to teach himself. It may be worth while to inquire for a few minutes into the exact meaning, as fixed by etymological consid- erations, of the words learn and teach. As words repre- sent ideas, we may thus ascertain what conceptions were apparently intended to be represented by these or equivalent symbols. Now it does seem remarkable that, in European languages at least, to lea/rn means to gather or glean for oneself — and teach^ to guide or superintend. 168 THEORIES OF EDUCATION. In no case that I am aware of do these words imply a correlation of receptivity on the one hand, with communi- cativeness on the other. A brief reference to the facts will be sufficient to show this. I take the word learn first, because learning must precede teacJmig. Learn, in the earliest form of our langua2;e, which we erroneously call Anglo-Saxon instead of Original or Primitive Eng- lish, was leorn-ian, a derivative of the simpler form Icer-an, to teach. There is reason to believe that the longer form with the epenthetic n represents a class of words once not uncommon in Gothic languages, though now no longer recognized in practice — I mean words endued in themselves with the functions of reflective or passive verbs. Thus, in Mceso-Gothic, we have lukan, to shut or lock up, lukn-an, to lock oneself up, or to be locked up; wak an, to wake another, wakn-an, to wake oneself, to be awake. We have the corresponding awake and awaken ourselves. If this analogy be correct, then leorn-ian, as connected with l<^r-an, to teach, means to teach oneself, i. e., to learn. As, however, the director of a work often gets the credit due to his subaltern, so the person who directed his pupil to do his work of teaching him- self was formerly said — and the usage still exists — to iear?i or lam the pupil. In nearly all European lan- guages, this double force of the word is found. Three hundred years ago even it was unquestionably good English to say, as Cranmer does in his version of the Psalter — " Lead me forth in thy truth and learn me," and as Shakespeare does in the person of Caliban — "The red plague rid you for learning me your language." But what does the original root leer mean ? It is evi- dently equivalent to the Mceso-Gothic his or les ; s being ETYMOLOGY OF " TEACH " AND " LEARN." 169 interchangeable with r, as we see in the Latin, arhos, arlor and in the German, eisen, compared with our iron. But the Moeso-Gothic his or les is identical with the German, les or lesen, and means to pluck, gather., acquire, read, learn, and we have still a trace of it in our provincial word leasing — gleaning or gathering up. The primitive mean- ing then of the root leer, of our original English must have been the same as that of the Moeso-Gothic les, though, for reasons already referred to, the causative sense to make to gather, acquire or learn, must have been very early supei'-added. On the whole, then, it appears sufficiently clear that to learn is to gather or glean for oneself — i. e., to teach oneself. But the correlative teach also requires a moment's consideration. This is derived from, or equivalent to, the original English, tcec or tcech (in taec-an or ttech-an), to the German, zeig (in zeigen), to the Moeso-Gothic tech (in techan), to the Latin doc (in docere), or die in di(c)scere (of which the ordinary form is discere) and to the Greek dEin (in 8eiicrvi.ii). This common root means to show, point out, direct, lead the way. The same idea is conveyed by the Fi'ench equivalents montrer and enseigner., both meaning, as we know, to teach. The etymology, then, in both instances supports the theory that learning is gathering up or acquiring for one- self, and teaching, the guiding, directing, or superintend- ing of that process. The pupil, then, by this theory is to advance by his own efforts, to work for himself, to learn for himself; to think for himself; and the teacher's function is to con- sist mainly in earnest and sympathizing direction. He is to devote his knowledge, intelligence, virtue, and ex- perience to that object. He has himself travelled the 170 THEORIES OF EDUCATION. road before which he and his young companion are to travel together; he knovvs its difficulties, and can sym- pathize with the struggles which must be made against them. He will therefore endeavor to gain his pupil's confidence, by entering into them, and by suggesting adequate motives for exertion when he sees the needful courage failing. He will encourage and animate every honest and manful effort of his pupil, but, remembering that be is to be ^. guide and not a leaver, he will not even attempt to supersede that labor and exercise which con- stitute the value of the discipline to the pupil, which he cannot take upon himself without defeating the very end in vieAV. It is worth while here to meet a plausible objection which has been taken against this view of the teacher's function. If, it is said, the pupil really after all learns by himself without the intervention of the teacher's mind in the process — though the intervention of his^or- al influence is strenuously insisted on — then this superin- tendent of other people's efforts to gain knowledge may really have none himself; this director of machinery may know nothing of mechanics. This objection is perti- nent and deserves attention. It is obvious that the teach- er who is really able to enter into his pupil's difficulties in learning effectively ought to be well furnished with knowledge and experience. Knowledge of the subject under instruction is to be required of the teacher, both be- cause the recognized possession of it gives him weight and influence, and because the possession of a large store of well-digested knowledge is itself distinct evidence that its owner has gone through a course of healthful mental discipline, and is on that ground — other things THE TEACHEK A GUIDE. lYl being equal — a fit and proper person to superintend those who are going through the same discipline. Knowledge also of a special kind he ought to have — that derived from thoughtful study, accompanied by practice, of the machinery which he is to direct. He is not, by the assumption, himself an essential part of it, but as an overlooker or engineer he certainly ought to be acquainted with its nature and construction, so as to be able to estimate its working power, and to know when to start and when to stop it, to prevent both in- action and overaction. A teacher, then, without some knowledge of j)sychology, gained both systematically and by experience and observation, could hardly be con- sidered as fully equipped for this work. But I need not dwell further on this j)oint, though I could not well leave it unnoticed. It appears, then, that the teacher of a pupil who teach- es himself will find quite enough to do in his work of superintendence and sympathy. It is only as far as the mental process of learning that the pupil is in any sense independent of him. I do not profess to describe in philosophic terms what the mental process which we call learning really is, but it is necessary for my argument to maintain that whatever it is, it can no more be performed by deputy than eating, drinking, or sleeping, and further, that every one engaged in performing it is really teaching himself. If, then, the views Ihave suggested of the re- lation between the teacher and the learner be generally correct, and tlie latter really learns by teaching himself, it would follow that if we could only ascertain his meth- od as a learner, we should obtain the true elements of 172 THEORIES OF EDUCATION. ours as teachers; or in other words, that true principles of the art of teaching would be educed from those in- volved in the art of learning, though the converse is by no means true. Tiie establishment of these principles would furnish us with a test of the real value of some of the practices in current use amona^st teachers, and perhaps help to lay the foundation of that teaching of the future, which will as I believe, indentify self-tuition, under competent guidance, with the scientific method of investigation. But I must endeavor to enlarge the field inquiry, and show that self-tuition under guidance is the only possi- ble method in the acquirement of that elementary in- struction which is the common property of the whole hu- man race. Long before the teacher, with his apparatus of books, maps, globes, diagrams, and lectures, appears in the field, the child has been pursuing his own educa- tion under the direction of a higher teacher than any ot' those who bear the technical name. He has been learn- ing the facts and phenomena which stand for words and phrases in the great book of Nature, and has also learned some of the conventional signs by which those facts and phenomena are known in his mother-tongue. As my general proposition is that the art of teaching should be, as far as possible founded on those processes by which nature teaches those who have no other teacher — those who learn by themselves — it is important to glance at a few of these processes. Nature's earliest lessons consist in teaching her pupils the use of their senses. The infant, on first opening his eyes, probably sees nothing. A glare of light stimulates the organ of sight, but makes no distinct impression up- THE INFANT AS A STTDENT. 173 on it. In a short time, however, the light reflected from the various objects around him impinges with more or less force, upon the eye and impresses upon it the im- ages of tilings without, the idea of the image is duly transferred to the mind — and thus the first lesson in see- ing is given. This idea of form, is, however, complex in its charac- ter, which arises from the fact that the objects pre- sented to his attention are wholes or aggregates. He learns to recognize them in the gross before he knows them in detail. He has no choice but to learn them in this way. No child ever did learn them in any other way. Nature presents him with material objects and facts, or things already made or done. She does not invite him, in the first instance, before he knows in a general way the whole object, to observe the constituent parts, nor the manner in which the parts are related to the whole. She never, in condescension to his weakness of perception, separates the aggregate in its component elements — never presents these elements to his consider- lion one by one. In short, she ignores altogether in her earliest lessons the synthetical method, and insists on his employing only the analytical. As a student of the analytical method he proceeds with his investigations, observing resemblances and differences, comparing, con- trasting, and to some extent generalizing (and thus using the synthetical process), until the main distinc- tions of external forms are comprehended, and their more important parts recognized as distinct entities, to be subsequently regarded themselves as wholes and. de- composed into their constituent parts. Thus the child goes on with Nature as his teacher, learning to read, for 174 Theories of EDucATioisr. himself and by himself the volume she spreads out before him, mastering first some of its sentences, then its phras- es and words, and lastly, a few of its separate letters. So with regard to the physical properties of objects as distinguished from their mechanical divisions or parts. What teacher but Nature makes the child an embryo experimental philosopher ? It is she who teaches him to teach himself the difference between hard and soft, bit- ter and sweet, hot and cold. He lays hold of objects within his reach, conveys them to his mouth, knocks them against the table or floor, and by performing such experiments incessantly gratifies, instructs, and trains the senses of sight, touch, taste, smelling, and hearing. At one time a bright and most attractive object is close at hand. It looks beautiful and he wonders what it can be. Nature whispers, " Find out what it is. Touch it." He puts his fingers obediently into the flame, burns them, and thus makes an experiment, and gains at the same time an important experience in the art of living. He does not, however, feel quite certain that this may not be a special case of bad luck. He therefore tries again, and of course with the same result. And now, reflecting maturely on what has taken place, he begins to assume that not only the flame already tried, but all flames will burn him — and thus dimly perceiving the relation between cause and effect, he is already track- ing, though slowly and feebly, the footsteps of the induct- ive philosophy. Even earlier in life — as soon, indeed, as he was born, as Professor Tyndall remarks — urged by the necessity of doing something for his living, he improvised a suction-pump, and thus showed himself to be, even from his birth, a student of practical science. nature's teaching. 175 These instances will serve to show that Nature's earliest lessons are illustrations of the theory, that teach- ing essentially consists in aiding the pupil to teach him- self. Tlie child's method of learning is evidently self- tuition under guidance, and nothing else. He learns, i. e., gathers up, acqun*es, knows a vast number of facts relating to things about him; and, morever, by imita- tion solely, he gains a practical acquaintance with the arts of walking, seeing, hearing, etc. Who has taught him ? ISTature — himself — practically they are one. In the ordinary sense, indeed, of the word teaching. Nature has not taught him at all. She has given him no rules, no laws, no abstract principles, no formulae, no grammar of hearing, seeing, walking, or talking; she simply gave the faculty, supplied the material, atid the occasion for its exercise, and her pupil learnt to do hj doing. This is what ISature, the teacher, the guide, the directrix, did. But something more she did, or rather in her wisdom left undone. When her pupil, through carelessness and heedlessness, failed to see what was before him, when he blundered in his walking or talking, she neither in- terposed to correct his blunders, nor indulged in out- cries and objurgations against him. She bided her op- portunity. She went on teaching, he went on learning, and the blunders were in time corrected by the pupil himself. Even when he was about to burn his fingers, it was no part of her plan to hinder him from learning the valuable lessons taught by the ministry of pain. Perhaps in these respects, as well as in so many others, teachers of children might learn something from the example of their great Archididascalos. But it will be objected that Nature's wise, authorita- 176 THEORIES OF EDUCATION. tive teaching can be no guide for us. She teaches by the law of exigency, and her pupil must perforce learn whether he will or not. In the society in which we live there is no such imperative claim, and the teacher, who appears as Nature's deputy, can neither wield her authority nor adopt her methods. In reply to this ob- jection it may be urged that Society's claims upon her members are scarcely less imperative than Nature's, and that the deputy can, and ought to, act out his superior's principles of administration. Suppose then, for instance, that Society requires that a child should learn to read. In this case, certainly, Nature will not intervene to secure that special instruc- tion, but the method adopted by her deputy may be, and ought to be, founded on hers. Every principle of Nature's teaching is violated in the oi'dinary plan of commencing with the alphabet. Nature, as I have al- ready said or implied, sets no alphabet whatever before her pupil; nor is there in the teaching of Nature any- thing that even suggests such a notion as learning A, B, C, Nature's teaching, it cannot be too fre- quently repeated, is at first analytical, not synthetical, and the essence of it is that the pupil makes the analy- sis himself. Our ordinary teacher, however, in defiance of Nature, commences his instruction in the art of reading with A, B, C, pointing out each letter, and at the same time uttering a sound which the child is expected to consider as the sound always to be associated with that sign. At length, after many a groan, the alphabet is learned perfectly and the teacher proceeds to the combinations. He points to a word, and the pupil says, letter by letter, THE WOED METHOD IN READING. Ill hee-a-tee, and then, naturally enough, comes to a dead stop. His work is done. Neither he nor Sir Isaac Newton in his prime, could take the next unexpected step and compound these elements into hat. The sphynx who proposes the riddle may indeed look menacingly for the answer, but by no possible chance can she get it. The teacher then comes to the rescue, utters the sound hat, which the child duly repeats, and thus the second stage in reading is accomplished. It will be observed that the only rational and sensible feature in this process is the utterance and echo of the sound hat in view of the word or sign, and if the teacher had begun with this, and not confused the child by giv- ing hira the notion that he was learning a sound, when he was in fact learning nothing but a name, Nature would have approved ofthe lesson, as analagous to those given by herself. She might also have asked the teacher to notice that the child learns to speak by hearing and using whole words. Nobody addresses him as hee-a-hee-wij, nor does he say em-a-em-em-a. He, in fact, deals with aggre- gates, compares them together, exercises the analytical faculty upon them, and employs the constituent ele- ments which he thus obtains in ever new combinations. There can be no doubt, then, that the child learns to speak, by imitation, analysis, a-^d practice. Why not, then, says Nature, let him learn reading in the same way ? Let him in view of entire words echo the sound of them received from the teacher; let him learn them thor- oughly as wholes; let him by analysis separate them in- to their syllables, and the syllables into their letters, and it will be found that the phonic faculty of the compound leads surely and easily to that of its separate parts. The G 178 THEORIES OF EDUCATION. fact of our orthography is singularly anomalous is an ar- gument for, rather than against, the adoption of this plan of teaching to read. In pursuing this only fiatural method of instruction we notice that the pupil frequently repeats the same process, going over and over the same ground until he has mastered it, and as in learning to walk he often stumbled before he walked freely, and in learning to talk often blundered and stammered before he used his tongue readily, so while learning to read in Nature's school, he will make many a fruitless attempt, be often puzzled, often for awhile miss his path, yet all the while he is correcting his errors by added knowledge and experience, sharpening his faculties by practice, teaching himself by his own active efforts, and not receiving passively the explanations of others; deeply interested too in discovering for himself that which he would be even disgusted with if imposed upon by dogmatic authority, he is trained, even from the very beginning, in the method of investigation. I cannot but look upon him as illustrating faithfully and fairly in his practice the theory that learning is self-tuition under competent guidance, and that teaching is, or ought to be, the super- intendence of the process. Did time permit I could give many illustrations of the interest excited, and the efficiency secured, by this method of teaching reading. For example, 1 have seen and heard children earnestly petitioning to be allowed to pursue their lessons in reading, after a short experi- ence of it, by what they called the " finding out plan." It was known to me more than forty years ago, as a part of Jacotot's once renowned " Enseignement Uni- LORD BYKOn's EXPEBIENCE. lYO versa!," and I then put it to the severest test. It is also substantially contained in Mr. Curwen's " Look and Say Method," in the little book entitled "Reading without Spelling, or the Scholar's Delight," and in articles by Mr. Dunning and Mr. Baker, of Doncaster, in the Quarterly Journal of Education for 1834. A natural method, like others, requires of course to be judiciously directed, and the teacher's especial duty is in this, as in other methods, to maintain the interest of the lesson, and above all, to get the pupil, however young he may be, to think ; especially as, according to the principles already laid down, it is rather the pupil who learns than the master who teaches. As a case in point I quote a passage from the life of Lord Byron. Speaking of a school he was in when five years of age, he says, " I learned little there except to repeat by rote the first lesson of mono- syllables, ' God made man, let us love him, etc.,' by hearing it often repeated without acquiring a letter. Whenever proof was made of my progress at home, I repeated these words with the most rapid fluency, but on turning over a new leaf, I continued to repeat them, so that the narrow boundaries of my first year's accom- plishments were detected, my ears boxed (which they did not deserve, seeing that it was by ear only that I had acquired my letters), and my intellects consigned to a new preceptor." This case, however, proves only that Byron had not been directed in teaching himself, and that he was not a pupil of the analytical method. His mind had taken no cognizance of the acquisitions which he had mechanically made. Another instance, much more to the point, is supplied in a passage which I extracted many years ago from a 180 THEOEIES OF EDUCATION. Report of the Gaelic School Society, and which con- tains a most valuable lesson for the teachers of reading. "An elderly female in the parish of Edderton was most anxious to read the Scriptures in her native tongue. She did not even know the alphabet, and of course she began with the letters. Long and zealously she strove* to acquire these, and finally succeeded. She was then put into the syllable class, in which she continued some time, but made so little progress that, with a breaking heart, she retired from the school. The clergyman of the parish, on being made acquainted with these cir- cumstances, advised the teacher to send for her again, and instead of trying her with syllables, to which she could attach no meaning, to give her the sixth Psalm at once. This plan succeeded to admiration: and when the school was examined by a committee of presbytery, she read the thirty-seventh Psalm in a manner that aston- ished all present." Whether this important discovery — for it was nothing less — was made practically availa- ble in the teaching of the parish of Edderton I do not know; but I should not be surprised to find that the good old A, B, C, and the cabalistical b-a, ba; b-e, be, — in which Dr. Andrew Bell gravely tells us "the sound is an echo to the sense!'''' — is still going on there as at the beginning. I have detained you long over the practical illustra- tion contained in the npethod of teaching to read, be- cause it really is a complete application of the theory which I advocate, and involves such principles as these which I state with the utmost, brevity for want of time; — 1. The pupil teaching himself, begins with tangible and concrete facts which he can comprehend, LIMITS OP THE TEACHEr's FUNCTION. 181 not with abstract principles which he cannot. 2. He employs a method — the analytical — which lies in his own power, not the synthetical, which mainly requires application ah extra. 3. His early career is not therefore impeded by need- less precepts, and authoritative dogmas. 4. He learns to become a discoverer and explorer on his own account, and not merely a passive recip- ient of the results of other j^eople's discoveries. 5. He takes a degree of pleasure in the discoveries or acquisitions made by himself, which he can- not take in those made by others. 6. In teaching himself he proceeds — he can only pro- ceed — in proportion to his strength, and is not perplexed and encumbered by explanations, which, however excellent in themselves, may not be adapted — generally are not adapted — to the actual state of his mind. 7. He consequently proceeds from the known to the unknown, 8. The ideas that he thus gains will, as natural se- quences of those already gained by the same method, be clear and precise as far as they go, and his knowledge will be accurate, though of course very limited, because it is his own. 9. By teaching himself, and relying on his own pow- ers in a special case, he acquires the faculty of teaching himself generally — a faculty the value of which can hardly be overrated. If these principles are involved in the method of self- tuition they necessarily define the measure and limit of teacher's function, and show us what the art of teaching 182 THEORIES OF EDUCATION. ought to be. Tliey seem also to render it probable that much that goes under the name of teaching rather hin- ders than helps the self- teaching of the pupil. The as- sumption of the pupil's inability to learn except through the manifold explanations of the teacher is inconsistent with this theory, nor less so is the universal practice of making technical definitions, abstract principles, scientific rules, etc., form so large a portion of the pabulum of the youthful mind. The superintending teacher by no means however, despises definitions, principles and rules, but he introduces thera when the pupil is prepared for them, and then he gets him to frame them for himself. The self-teaching student has no power to anticipate the time when these deductions from facts — for such they all ultimately are — will, by the natural course of mental de- velopment, take their proper place in the course of in- struction, and any attempt to force him to swallow them merely as intellectual boluses prematurely can only end in derangement of the digestive organs. His mind can digest, or at least begin to digest, facts which he sees for himself, but not definitions and rules which he has had no share in making. He cannot, in the nature of things, assume the conclusions of others drawn from facts of which he is ignorant as his conclusions, and he is not therefore really instructed by passively receiving them. Those who take a different view from this of teaching sometimes plead that inasmuch as rules and principles are compendious expressioLS representing many facts, the pupil does in learning them economize time and labor. Experience does not, however, support this view, but it is rather against it. The elementary pupil cannot, if he would, comprehend for instance the metaphysical, dis- NO "new education." 183 tinctions and definitioas of grammar. They are utrlerly unsnited for his stage of developenient, and if violently intruded into his mind they cannot be assimilated to its substance, but must remain there as crude, undigest- ed matter until the system is prepared for them. When that time arrives, he will welcome these compendious generalizations of facts which when prematurely offered he rejected with disgust. Stuffing a pupil with ready- made rules and formulae may perhaps make an adepi in crammino^, but is crammino* the be-all and end-all of education ? But I must furl my sails and make for land. The idea which 1 have endeavored to give of the true rela- tion of the pupil to the teacher, and which represents the former as carrying on his own self-tuition under the wise superintendence of the latter, is of course not new. Nothing strictly new can be said about education. The elements of it may easily be found in the principles and practice of x^scham, Montaigne, Ratich, Milton, Co- menius, Locke, Rousseau, Pestalozzi, Jacotot, and Her- bert Spencer. Those who are interested in the subject may find an account of the views and methods of these eminent men in Mr. Quick's valuable little book on PJdu- cational Reformers. All, in fact, who have insisted on the great importance of eliciting the pupil's own efforts and not superseding, enfeebling and deadening them by too much telling and explaining — all, too, who have urged that abstract rules and principles should, in teach- ing, follow, not precede, the examples on which they are founded, have virtually adopted thetheory.which I have endeavored to state and illustrate. They have, in sub- stance, admitted that the teacher's function is defined 184 THEORIES OF EDITCATION. by a criie conception of the mental operation which we call learning, and that that operation is radically and essentially the work of the pupil, and cannot be per- formed for him. If I have succeeded at all in the development of my theory, it must be obvious that a pupil thus trained must be a more accurate observer, a more skilful investigator, more competent to deal with subjects of thought in an intelligent way; in a word, a more awakened, thinker than one trained in accordance with the opposite theory. The process he goes through naturally tends to make him such, and to prepare him to appreciate and adopt in his subsequent career the methods of science. It is the want of that teaching which comes from himself that makes an ordinary pupil the slave of technicalities and routine, that prevents him from grappling with a common problem of arithmetic or algebra unless he hap- pens to remember the rule, and from demonstrating a geometrical proposition if he forgets the diagram; which, even though he may be a scholar of Eton or Harrow, leaves him destitute of power to deal at sight with a passage of an easy Greek or Latin author. In the great bulk of our teaching, with of course many and notable exceptions, the native powers of the pupil are not made the most of, and hence his knowledge, even on leaving school, is too generally a farrago of facts only partially hatched into principles, mingled in unseemly jumble with rules scarcely at all understood, exceptions claiming equal rank with the rules, defini- tions dislocated, from the objects they define, and tech- nicalities which clog rather than facilitate the operations of the mind. BETTER SCHOOLS FROM BETTER TEA.CHING. 185 A slight exercise of our memories, and a slight glance at the actual state of things amongst us, will, I believe, witness to the substantial truth of this statement. If, however, we want other testimony, we may find it in abundance in the Reports and evidence of the four Commissions which have investigated the state of edu- cation amongst us; if we want more still, we may be supplied — not, 1 am sorry to say, to our heart's content, but discontent — in the reports of intelligent official ob- servers from abroad. If we want more still, let us read the petitions only lately presented to the House of Com- mons from the highest medical authorities, who com- plain that medical education is rendered abortive and impossible by the wholly unsatisfactory results of mid- dle-class teaching. Does it appear unreasonable to sup- pose that such a chorus of dispraise and dissatisfaction could not be raised unless there were something in the" methods of teachius^ which naturally leads to the results complained of ? If the quality of the teaching — I am not considering the quantity — is not responsible for the quality of its results, I really do not know where we are to find the cause, and failing in detecting the cause, how are we to hegin even our search for the remedy ? Theories of teaching which distrust the pupil's native ability, which in one way or other repress, instead of aiding, the natural development of his mind, which surfeit him with technicalities, which impregnate him with vague in- fructuous notions that are never brought to the birth, that cultivate the lowest faculties at the expense of the highest, that make him a slave of the Rule-of-Thumb instead of a master of principles — are these theories, which have done much of the mischief, to be still relied 186 THEORIES OP EDUCATION. Oil to supply the reform we need ? Or shall we find, at least, some of the germs of future life in the other theory, which from the first confides in, cherishes, and encourages the native powers of the child; which take care that his acquisitions, however small, shall be made by himself, and secures their possession by repetition and natural association; which invests his career with the vivid interest which belongs to that of a discoverer and explorer of unknown lands; which, in short, to adopt the striking words of Burke, instead of serving up to him barren and lifeless truths, leads him to the stock on which they grew; which sets him on the track of invention, and directs him into those paths in which the great authorities he follows made their own discov- eries ? Is a theory which involves such principles, and leads to such results^ worthy the consideration of those who regard education as pre-eminently the civilizing agent of tlie world, and laiuent that England, as a na- tion, is so little fraught with its spirit ? THEORY OF TEACHIN&.-AMLYSIS, I. The Relation of the Teacher to the Pupil. 1. The teacher that communicates ideas 165 {a) Has a mean opinion of the pupil's powers 166 2. The teacher that guides to ideas 166 {a) Pupils competent to observe, compare, infer 166 II. Learning is Self- Tuition. 1. Etymology of the words "learn "and "teach" 167 2. The teacher to be a guide 170 (a) The teacher must know psychology. . 171 (b) He has quite enough to do 171 (c) The pupil's independence partial 171 (d) Methods of teaching derived from methods of learning _ 172 3. Self-tuition the only acquirement of knowledge 172 {a) Nature's process of teaching: a First, use of the senses 173 /i Analysis precedes synthesis 173 X The child an experimental philosopher .174 d The child learns to do by doing . 175 s He corrects his own blunders .-175 (b) Society's claims, vs. Nature's 176 a Learning to read... 176 y5 Lord Byron's experience 179 X The old woman of Edderton 179 (c) Principles illustrated. a The pupil begins with facts 180 ^ He uses analysis . . 180 X He is not impeded by precepts.. 180 d He learns to be an explorer 180 £ He takes pleasure in his discoveries 181 ^ He proceeds according to liis strength... ..181 187 188 THEORIES OF EDUCATION. 77 He goes from the known to the unknown 181 5 His ideas are clear so far as they go 181 I He acquires the habit of self-teaching .181 {d) Application to prevalent methods.. 181 a Much teaching a hindrance 182 (5 Principles should be developed, not memorized.. 183 y No economy in cramming 182 HI, These principles accepted by all great teachers .183 1. Want of self teaching makes one a slave of routine. 184 2. Reports show inefficiency of present schools. 184 3. The remedy, better knowledge of our work_.. 185 THE IMPORTANCE OF THE DRAINING OF THE TEACHER. In the first place, I wish to make a few remarks on the term "profession," as applied to teaching. It cannot be said, strictly, that we have in England, at this moment, any profession of teaching. The term "profession," when properly, that is, technically employed, connotes or implies " learned;" and involves the idea of an incor- porated union of persons qualified by attainments and by a scientific training for a particular calling in life, and duly authorized to pursue it. It is in this sense alone that the term is employed, in speaking of the professions of law, medicine and theology. As, however, in the case of education — and speaking particularly of second- ary education — no positive attainments, no special train- ing, no authoritative credentials whatever are demanded as professional qualifications, it is obvious that there is, strictly speaking, no profession of teaching amongst us, and that when we use the term *• profession" in this ap- plication of it, we use it in a vague, inaccurate and un- technical sense. As to attainments none whatever are required of the person whg "professes" to teach. The profound ignoramus, if sufficiently endowed with assur- ance, may compete for public patronage on nearly equal terms with the most cultivated student of learning and science, and may in many cases even carry off the prize; while as to training, the teacher who has severely disci- 189 190 IMPORTANCE OF TRAINING. plined his mind by the study of the theory of education, and carefully conformed his practice to it, scarcely stands a better chance of success than the ignorant pre- tender who cannot even define the term "education; " who has no conception of the meaning of "training; " and whose empirical self-devised methods of instruction constitute the sum total of his qualifications for the office he assumes. Lastly, as to credentials, both classes of teachers, the qualified and the unqualified, stand on precisely the same footing before the public. No authoritative exequatur dis- tinguishes the competent from the incompetent teacher. Both jostle each other in the strife for pre-eminence, and the pul)lic look on all the while with indifference, appar- ently unconscious that their children's dearest interests are involved in the issue. It is obvious then, that as neither knowledge, training, nor credentials are required of the teacher, there can be no " profession of teaching." The assumption, however, that there is such a profession, and that any one who pleases may claim to be a member or it, has proved very injurious to the interests of the public. Girls left un- provided for, yoimg widows left in a similar predicament, and many others suddenly plunged into difficulties and obliged to cast about for a livelihood, often can think of no other employment than that of teaching, which, as be- ing in common parlance " professional," is therefore " gen- teel;" and accordingly, without a single qualification, of- ten with the disqualification that they have nearly all their previous lives regarded teachers and teaching with contempt, declare themselves before the world ready to teach, The declaration, if it means anything, means Reaching only a semi-peofession. 191 that they profess themselves ready to undertake the practice of an art which, beyond most others, requires peculiar knowledge, experience, culture, and tact. It means further, that they are prepared to watch oyer the development of a child's growing mind, to furnish it with suitable mental food at the proper time; to see that the food is thoroughly digested; to stimulate it to exer- cise its faculties in the right direction; to curb its aberra- tions; to elicit the consciousness of independent power ; to form, in short, habits of thinking for life-long use. All this, and very much more, is really involved in the conception we ought to form of a teacher's functions; and yet we see every day persons who have not even a conception of this conception : persons destitute of all knowledge of the subjeecs they profess to teach, of the nature of the mind which is to be taught, of the practical art itself, of the principles of education which underlie the art, and of the experience of the most eminent instructors, blindly and rashly forcing themselves before the world as teachers. Such persons seem not to be aware that if with similar qualifications they were to undertake to practice the arts of medicine, law, architecture, engi- neering, or music, they would be laughed at every where. Yet these very persons, who would be instinctively con- scious of their incompetency, without knowledge or train- ing, to perform a surgical operation, to steer a vessel, to build a house, or to guide a locomotive, are ready, at a moment's warning, to perform any number of operations on a child's mind, and to undertake the direction of its mental or moral forces — a task, considering the delicacy of the machinery with which they have to deal, more dif- ficult in many respects than any other that can be named. 192 IMPOETANCE OP TRAINING. In maintainitis^, however, generally that the professor of an art should understand its principles, and that he cannot understand them without study and training, I do not mean to assert that there may not be found among those who feel themselves suddenly called upon to act as teachers, especially among women, many, who without obvious preliminary training, are really already far advanced in actual training for the task they assume. In these cases, superior mental culture, acute insight into character, ready tact and earnest sympathy constitute, pro tanto^ a real preparation for the profession; and sup- ply, to a considerable extent, the want of technical train- ing. To such persons it not unfrequently happens that a matured consciousness of the importance of the task they have undertaken, and actual contact with the work itself, rapidly suggest what is needed to supplement their inexperience. Such cases, however, as being rare and exceptional, are not to be relied on as examples. Even in them, moreover, a thoughtful study of the Sci- ence of Education, and of the correlated Art, would guide the presumed faculty to better results than can be gained without it. We can have little hesitation then in asserting that the pretension to be able to teach without knowing even what teaching means; without mastering its processes and methods as an art; without gaining some acquaint- ance with its doctrines as a science; without studying what has been said and done by its most eminent prac- titioners, is an unwarrantable pretension which is so near akin to empiricism and quackery,* that it is difficult to make the distinction. * "Empiric; one of a sect of ancient pliysicians, who practised from PRIMARY TEACHING. 198 There are, however, two or three fallacious arguments sometimes urged against the preliminary training of the teacher which it is important briefly to discuss. The iirst is, that " granting the need of such training for teachers of advanced subjects, it is unnecessary for the teaching of elementary subjects. Anybody can teach a child to read, write, and cipher." This is, no doubt, true, if teaching means nothing more than me- chanical drill and cram; but if teaching is an art and requires to be artistically conducted, it is not true. A teacher is one who, having carefully studied the nature of the mind, and learned by reading and practice, some of the means by which that nature may be influenced, applies the resources of his art to the child-nature before him. Knowing that in this nature there are forces, moral and intellectual, on the development of which the child's well-being depends, he draws them forth by repeated acts, exercises them in order to strengthen them, trains them into faculty, and continually aims at making all that he does, all that he gets his pupils to do, minister to the consciousness of growth and power in the child's mind. If this is a correct description of the teacher's function, it is obvious that it applies to every department of the teacher's work; as much to the teaching of reading and arithmetic as to that of Greek plays, or of Differential Calculus. The function does not change with the subject. But I go further, and maintain that the beginning of the process of education is even_more important in some respects than the later stages. II n''y a que le premier pm qui coute. The teacher experience, not from theory."—'* Quack; ii boastful pretender to arts he does not understand." 194 IMPORTANCE OF TRAlNIN(i. who takes in baud the instruction and direction of a mind wliicli has never been taught before, commeaces a series of processes, which by our theory should have a def- inite end in view — and that end is to induce in the child's mind the consciousness of power. Power is, of course, a relative term, but it is not inapplicable to the case be- fore us. The teacher, even of reading, who iirst directs the child's own observation on the facts in view — the combination of tlie letters in separate words or syllables — gets him to compare these combinations together, and notice in what respect they differ or agree, to state him- self the difference of agreement — to analyze each new compound, into its known and unknown elements, ap- plying the known, as far as possible, to interpret the unknown — to refer each fresh acquisition to that first made, to find out for himself everything which can be found out through observation, inference and reflection — to look for no help,-except in matters (such as the sounds) which are purely conventional — to teach him- self to read, in short, by the exercise of his own mind — such a teacher, it is contended, while getting the child to learn how to read, is in fact, doing much more than this — he is te:iching the child how to use his mind — how to observe, investigate, think.* It will probably be granted that a process of this kind — if practicable — would be a valuable initiation for the child in the art of learning generally, and that it would necessarily be attended by what I have described as a conciousness of power. But, moreover, — which is also very important — * See this process fully described in the Author's third lecture "On the Science and Art of Education," published by the College of Precep- tors, p. 63. 4 THE BEST TEACHING NEEDED FIRST. 195 it woald be attended by a consciousness of pleasure. Even the youngest child is sensible of the charm of do- ing things himself — of finding out things for himself ; and it is of cardinal importance in elementary instruc- tion to lay the grounds for the association of pleasure with mental activity. It would not be difficult, but it is unnecessary, to contrast such a method as this, which awakens all the powers of the child's mind, keeps them in vivid and pleasurable exercise, and forms good men- tal habits, with that too often pursued, which deadens the faculties, induces idle habits, distaste for learning, and incapacity for mental exertion. Tt is clear, then, that "any teacher" cannot teach even reading, so as to make it a mental exercise, and, conse- quently, a part, of real education — in other words, so as " to make all that he does, and all he gets his pupil to do, minister to the consciousness of growth and power in the child's mind." So far then from agreeing with the proposition in question, I believe that the early development of a child's mind is a work that can only effectually be performed by an accomplished teacher; such a one as T have already described. In some of the best German elementary schools men of literary distinc- tion. Doctors in Philosophy, are employed in teaching children how to read, and in the highly organized Jesuit Schools, it was a regulation that only those teachers who liad been specially successful in the higher classes should be entrusted with the care of the lowest. There is, moreover, another consideration which de- serves to be kept in view in discussing the competency of '• any teacher " to take charge of a child who is beginning to learn. Most young untrained teachers 196 IMPORTANCE OF TRAINING. fancy when they give their first lesson to a child who has not been taught before, that they are commencing its education. A moment's reflection will show that this is not the case. They may indeed be commencing its formal education, but they forget that it rias been long a pupil of that great School, of which ^Nature is the mistress, and that their proper function is to continue the education which is already far advanced. In that School, observation and experiment, acting as superin- tendents of instruction, through the agency of the child's own senses, have taught it all it knows at the time when natural is superseded, or rather supplemented by formal education. Can it then be a matter of indiffer- ence whether or not the teacher understands the pro- cesses, and enters into the spirit of the teaching carried on at that former School; and is it not certain that his want of knowledge on these points will prove very inju- rious to the young learner ? The teacher who has this knowledge will bring it into active exercise in every lesson that he gives, and, as I have shown in the case of teaching to read, will make it instrumental in the devel- opment of all the intellectual faculties of the child. He knows that his method is sound, because it is based on Nature; and he knows, moreover, that it is better than Nature's, because it supersedes desultory and fortuitous action by that which is organized with a view to a defi- nite end. The teacher who knows nothing of Nature's method, and fails, therefore, to appreciate its spirit, de- vises at haphazard a method of his own which too generally has nothing in common with it, and succeeds in effectually quenching the child's own active energies; in making him a passive recipient of knowledge, which nature's teaching recognized. 197 he has had no share in gaining; and in finally converting him into a mere unintellectual machine. Untrained teachers, especially those who, as the phrase is, "com- mence " the education of children, are, as yet, little aware how ranch of the dulness, stupidity, and distaste for learning which they complain of in tiicir pupils, is of their own creation. The upshot then of this discus- sion is, not that " any teacher," but only those teachers who are trained in the art of teaching can he safely entrusted with the education of the child's earliest efforts in the career of instruction. Another fallacy, which it is important to expose, is involved in the assumption, not unfrequently met with, that a man's "choosing to fancy that he has the ability to teach, is a sufficient warrant for his doing so," leav- ing, it is added, "the public to judge whether or not he is fit for his profession." Ridiculous as this proposition may appear, I have heard it gravely argued for and approved in a soiiference of teachers, many of whom no doubt, had good grounds of their own for their adher- ejice to it. Simply stated, it is the theory of free trade in education. Every one is to be at liberty to offer his wares, an.d it is the buyer's business to take care that he is not cheated in the bargain. It is unnecessary for my present purpose to say more on the general proposi- tion than this — that the state of the market and the frequent inferiority of the wares invalidate the assump- tion of the competency of the buyer to form a correct estimate of the value of the article he buys, and, more- over, that an immense quantity of mischief may be, and actually is done to the parties most concerned, the children of the buyers, while the hazardous experiment 198 IMPORTANCE OF TRAINING. is going on. As to the minor proposition, tbe man's " choosing to fancy that he has the ability " to teach is a sufficient warrant for his doing so, it is obviously in direct opposition to the argument 1 am maintaining. It cannot for a moment be admitted that a man's " choos- ing to fancy that he has the ability " to discharge a function constitutes a sufficient warrant for the in- dulgence of his fancy, especially in a field of action where the dearest interests of society are at stake. We do not allow a man " who chooses to fancy that he has the ability " to practise surgery, to operate on our limbs at his pleasure, and only after scores of disastrous ex- periments, decide whether he is "fit to follow the pro- fession" of a surgeon. Nor do we allow a man who may "choose to fancy that he has the ability" to take the command of a man-of-war, to undertake such a charge on the mere assurance that w^e may safely trust to his "inward impulse." And if we require the strict- est guarantees of competency, where our lives and property are risked, shall we be less nnxious to secure them when the mental and moral lives of our children — the children of our commonwealth — are endangered ? I repudiate then entirely this doctrine of an "inward im- pulse," which is to supersede the orderly training of the teacher in the art of teachinty. It has been tried Ions: enough, and has been found utterly wanting. Fallacies, however, are often singularly tenacious of life, and we are not therefore surprised at Mr. Meiklejohn's asser- tion, that in more than 50 per cent, of the letters which he examined, the special qualification put forw^ard by the candidates was their "feeling" that they could per- form the duties of the office in question to their own satis- THE "inward impulse" THEORY. 199 faction. ( ! ) This is obviously only another specimen, though certainly a remarkable one, of the "inward im- pulse " theory. The third fallacy T propose to deal with is couched in the common assumption that "any one who knows a subject can teach it." There can be no doubt that the teacher should have an accurate knowledge of the sub- ject he professes to teach, and especially for this, if for no other reason — that as his proper function is to guide the process by which his pupil is to learn, it will be of the greatest advantage to him as a guide to have gone himself through the process of learning. But, then, it is very possible that although his experience has been real and personal, it may not have been conscious — that is, that he may have been too much absorbed in the process itself to take account of the natural laws of its operation. This conscious knowledge of the method by which the mind gains ideas is, in fact, a branch of Psy- chology, and he may not have studied that science. Nor was it necessary for his purpose, as a learner, that he should, study it. But the conditions are quite altered when he becomes a teacher. He now assumes the direc- tion of a process which is essentially not his but the learner's; for it is obvious that he can no more think for the pupil than he can eat or sleep for him. His efficient direction, then, will mainly depend on his thoughtful conscious knowledge of all the conditions of the prob- lem which he has to solve. That problem consists in getting his pupil to learn, and it is evident that he may know his subject, without knowing the best means of making his pupil know it too, which is the assumed end of all his teaching: in other words, he may be an adept 200 IMPORTANCE OF TRAINING. in his subject, but a novice in the art of teaching it. Natural tact and insight may, in many cases, rapidly suggest the faculty that is needed ; but the position still remains unaffected that knowing a subject is a very different thing from knowing how to teach it. This conclusion is indeed involved in the very conception of an art of teaching, an art which has principles, laws, and processes peculiar to itself. But, again, a man profoundly acquainted with a sub- ject may be unapt to teach it by reason of the very height and extent of his knowledge. His mind habitu- ally dwells among the mountains, and he has therefore small sympathy with the toilsome plodders on the plains below. It is so long since he was a learner himself that he forgets the difficulties and perplexities which once obstructed his path, and which are so painfully felt by those who are still in the condition in which he once was himself. It is a hard task, therefore, to him to conde- scend to their condition, to place himself alongside of them, and to force a sympathy which he cannot nat- urally feel with their trials and experience. The teacher, in this case, even less than in the other, is not likely to conceive justly of all that is involved in the art of teaching, or to give himself the trouble of acquiring it. Be this, however, as it may, both illustrations of the case show that it is a fallacy to assert that there is any necessary connection between knowing a subject, and knowing how to teach it. Having now shown that the present state of public opinion in England, which permits any one who pleases to '*set up " as a teacher without regard to qualifications is inconsistent with the notion that teaching is an art for CRAMMING DEFINED. 201 the exercise of which preliminary training is necessary, and disposed of those prevalent fallacies which are, to a great extent, constituents of that public opinion, I pro- ceed to give some illustrations of teaching as it is in contrast with teaching as it should be. The fundamen- tal proposition, to which all that I have to say on the jDoint in question must be referred, is this — that teach- ing, in the proper sense of the terra, is a branch of edu- cation, and that education is the development and train- ing of the faculties with a view to create in the pupil's mind a consciousness of power. Every process em- ployed in what is called teaching that will not bear thiis test is, more or less, of the essence of cramming, and cramming is a direct interference with, and antagonistic to, the true end of education. Cramming may be defined for our present purpose as the didactic imposition on the child's mind of ready-made results, of results gained by the thought of other people, through processes in which his mind has not been called upon to take a part. During this performance the mind of the pupil is for the most part a passive recipient of the matter forced into it, and the only faculty actively employed is memory. The re- sult is that memory instead of being occupied in its proper function of retaining the impression left on the mind by its own active operations, and being therefore subordinate and subsequent to those operations, is forced into a position to which it has no natural right, and made to precede, instead of waiting on, the mind's ac- tion. Thus the true sequence of causes and consequenc- es is disturbed, and memory becomes a principal agent in instruction. If we further reflect that ideas gained by the direct action of the mind naturally find their 202 IMPORTANCE OF TRAINING. proper place among the other ideas already existing there by the law of association, while those arbitrarily forced into it do so only by accident — for the mind re- ceives only that which it is already prepared to receive — we see that cramming, which takes no account of pre- paredness, is absolutely opposed to development, that is to education in the true sense of the term. Cramming, therefore, has nothing in common with the art of teach- ing, and the great didactic truth is established that it is the manner or method rather than the thing taught, that constitutes the real value of the teaching. Mr. D'Arcy Thomson, in his interesting book entitled *' Wayside Thoughts," referring to the usual process of cramming in education, compares it to the deglutition by the boa constrictor of a whole goat at a meal, but he re- marks that while the boa by degrees absorbs the animal into his system, the human boa often goes about all his life with the undigested goat in his stomach ! There may be some extravagance in this whimsical illustration, but it involves after all, a very serious truth. How many men and women are there who, if they do not car- ry the entire goat with them through life, retain in an undigested condition huge fragments of it, which j^ress as a dead weight on the system — a source of torpidity and uneasiness, instead of becoming through proper as- similation a means of energy and power. The true edu- cator, who is at the same time a genuine artist, proceeds to his work on principles diametrically opposed to those involved in cramming. In the first place he endeavors to form a just conception of the nature, aims, and ends of education, as of a theory which is to govern his pro- fessional action. According to this conception " educa- METHOD OF THE TRUE TEACHER. 203 tion is tbe training carrie«Tl on consciously and continu- ously by the educator with the view of converting de- sultory and accidental force into organized action, and of ultimately making the child operated on by it a health}^, intelligent, moral, and religious man." Con- fining himself to intellectual training, he sees that this must be accomplished through instruction, which is "the orderly placing of knowledge in the mind with a definite object; the mere aggregation of incoherent ideas, gained by desultory and unconnected mental acts being no more instruction tban heaping bricks and stone to- gether is building a house."* These conceptions of the nature and aim of education, and of its proper relation to instruction, suggest to him the consideration of the means to be employed. These means to be effectual must have an exact scientific relation to the nature of the machinery that is to be set in motion; a relation which can only be understood by a careful study of the machinery itself. If it is a sort of machinery which manifests its energies in acts of observation, perception, re- flection, and remembering, and. depends for its efficacy upon attention, he must study these phenomena subjectively in relation to his own conscious experience, and. objectively as exhibited in the experience of others. Regarding, fur- ther, this plexus of energies as connected with a base to which we give the name of mind, he must proceed to study the nature of the mind in general, and especially note the manner in which it acts in the acquisition of ideas. This study will bring him into acquaintance with certain principles or laws which are to guide and control his future action. The knowledge thus gained w411 con- *See the Author's " Lectures ou the Science and Art of Education." 204 IMPOETANCE OP TRAINING. stitute bis initiation into tbe Science and Art of Educa- tion. The Science or Theory of Education then is seen to consist in a knowledge of those principles of Psychol- ogy, which account for the processes by which the mind gains knowledge. It therefore serves as a test, by which the Art or Practice of Education may be tried. All practices which are not in accordance with the natural action of the mind in acquiring knowledge for itself are condemned by the theory of Education, and in this predicament is cramming, which consists in forcing into the mind of the learner the products of other peo- ple's thought. Such products are formulae, rules, general abstract propositions, definitions, classifications, tech- nical terms, common words even, when they are not the signs of ideas gained at first-hand by his own observa- tion and perception. The Science of Education recog- nizes all these kinds of knowledge as necessary to the formation of the mind; but relegates them to their proper place in the course of instruction, and determines that that place is subsequent not antecedent to the action of the learnei-'s tnind on the facts which serve as their groundwork. Facts, then, things, material ob- jects, natural phenomena; physical facts, facts of lan- guage, facts of nature, are the true, the all-sufficient pabulum for the youthful mind, and the careful study and investigation of them at first-hand, through his own observation and experiment are to constitute his earliest initiation in the art of learning. After this initiatory practice, which involves analysis and disintegration, come, as the natural sequence, the processes of recon- struction and classification of the elements obtained, METHCD OF THE TRUE TEACHER. 205 induction, framing of definitions, building up of rules, generalization of particulars, construction of formulae, application of technical terras, in all which processes the art of the teacher as a director of the learner's intellect- ual efforts is manifestly called into exercise; and the need of his own experimental knowledge of the pro- cesses he has to direct is too obvious to require to be insisted on. The comprehensive principle here enunciated, which regards even the learning by rote of the multiplication table and Latin declensions, antecedently to some pre- liminary dealing with the facts of Latin and the facts of number, as of the essence of cramming, will be theoreti- cally received or rejected by teachers, just in propor- tion as they receive or reject the conception of an art of teaching founded on intellectual principles. It is ob- vious enough that cramming knowledge into the memory without regard to its fitness for mental digestion, if an art at all, is an art of a very low order, and has little in common with that which consists in a conscious appre- ciation of the means whereby the mind is awakened to activity, and its energies trained to independent power. The teacher, in fact, in the one case is an artist, scien- tifically working out his design in accordance with the principles of his art, and ready to apply all its resources to the emergencies of practice; in the other case, he is an artisan empirically working by rule-of-thumb, un- furnished with principles of action, and succeeding, when he succeeds at all, through the happy accident that the pupil's own intellectual activity practically de- feats the natural tendency of the teacher's mechanical drill. 206 IMPORTANCE OP TRAINING. I do not, however, by any means pretend to assert that every teacher who declines to accept t>' notion of teaching as an art, is an artisan. It often happens that a man works on a theory which he does not consciously appreciate, and in his actual practice obviates the ob- jection which might be taken against some of his pro- cesses. Hence we find teachers, while denouncing such expressions as " development and cultivation of the in- telligence " as "frothy,"* doing practically all they can to develop and cultivate the intelligence of their pupils. Such teachers do indeed violently drive " the goat " into the stomach of their pupils, but when they have got it there take great pains to have it digested in some fashion or other. I believe that the process would be much facilitated by their knowing something of the physiology of digestion, but I do not therefore designate such practitioners as artisans. At the same time I do not call them artists, for their procedure violates nature, and true art never does that. The epithet artisan may however be restricted to those — and their number is legion — whose practice consists of cramming pur et simple. On the whole, then, I contend that if we could ex- amine the entire practice of those teachers who actually succeed in endowing the large majority — not a select few — of their pupils with sound and systematic knowl- edge, and with well-informed minds, we should find that, whatever be their theoretic notions, they have worked on the principles on which I have been all along * See a letter in the "Educational Times," for December, 1872, from the Rev. E. Boclen, Head Master of the Clitheroe Royal Grammar School. ARTISTS AND ARTISANS. 20 7 insisting. They have succeeded by the development andcultiva^' ^ of the intelligence of their pupils, and by nothing else, and they have succeeded just in pro- portion as they have consciously kept this object in view. Let us hear what Dean Stanley tells us of Arnold's teaching. "Arnold's whole method was founded on the principle of awakening the intelligence of every indi- vidual boy. Hence it was his practice to teach, not, as you perceive, by downpouring, but by questioning. As a general rule he never gave information except as a reward for an answer, and often withheld it altogether, or checked himself in the very act of uttering it, from a sense that those whom he was addressing had not suf- ficient interest or sympathy to entitle them to receive it. His explanations were as short as possible, enough to dispose of the difficulty and no more, and his ques- tions were of a kind to call the attention of the boys to the real point of every subject, to disclose to them the exact boundaries of what they knew and did not know, and to cultivate a habit not only of collecting facts, but of expressing themselves with facility, and of under- standing the principles on which these facts rested." Such was Arnold's method of teaching; and it is obvious that, mutatis mutandis^ modified somewhat so as to apply to the earliest elementary instruction, it involves all the principles which I have contended for, as constituting the true art of teaching. The boys were, in fact, teach- ing themselves under the direction of the teacher with- out, or with the slightest, explanation on his part. They were using all their minds on the subject, and gaining in- dependent power. Arnold, to use a famous French teach- er's expression, was "laboring to render himself useless," 208 IMPORTANCE OP TRAINING. But I must draw these remarks to a conclusion. It is hardly necessary for me to state formally the principif's for which I have been all along arguing. The upshot is this — Teaching is not a blind routine but an art, which has a definite end in view. An art implies an artist who works by systematic rules. The processes and rules of art explicitly or implicitly evolve the principles involved in science.' The art or practice of education, therefore, is founded on the science or theory of education, while the science of education is itself founded on the science of mind or psychology. The complete equipment and training of the teacher for his profession comprehends therefore: — (a) A knowledge of the subject of instruction. (b) A knowledge of the nature of the being to be in- structed. (c) A knowledge of the best methods of instruction. This knowledge gained by careful study and con- joined with practice, constitutes the training of the teacher. IMPORTANCE OF TRAINING OF TEACHERS- ANALYSIS, I. Teaching is not as yet a " Profession. "... .189 1. No positive attainments demanded 189 3. No training , 190 3. No authoritative credentials 190 II. Results of Us Non-Professional character. 1. Sought by the incompetent as a "genteel" avocation. 190 {a) Impossible in medicine, law, etc 191 3. Even the naturally gifted would profit by training.. 192 3. To teach without training is quackery. 193 III. Arguments urged against Training 193 1. That it is unnecessary for primary teaching. 193 (a) But it is necessary in every department 193 (6) And even more important in the first stages 194 a Good teaching involves mental training 194 (i It imparts pleasure to learning 195 (c) The most learned teachers put into this depart- ment .-196 {d) The child's education not begun at school 196 a Nature's teaching to be understood and followed. 197 ft Children often dull from lack of this 197 3. That " Inward Impulse" is warrant to teach 197 (a) Parents not competent to judge teachers 198 (6) Damage to children during the experiment 198 (c) Applicable to no other skilled occupation. 198 3. That he who knows can teach 199 {a) The problem is to get the pupil to learn 199 oc To have learned is to have gone through the process .- -199 H 209 210 IMPORTANCE OF TRAI:NING. /i But this must have been conscious to be helpful - 200 y Teaching has its own laws 200 (6) Knowledge may impede teaching by its extent.. .200 a Teacher on the heights, pupils in the plain .200 ft Teacher has forgotten how hard it is to learn.. .200 IV. Teaching as it is, and as it should he.. 201 1, Teaching contrasted with cramming 201 {a) The boa and the undigested goat 202 {b) How the true teacher proceeds 203 a He forms a just conception of education 203 ft He studies the proper means to be employed 203 y He tests his science by psychology 204 (c) Distinction between artist and artisan 205 a Not all untrained teachers artisans 206 ft But all crammers eminently so 206 2. All good teachers have worked on these principles. .207 {a) Thomas Arnold's teaching 207 V. Concluding Summary. The training of the teacher includes : 1. Knowledge of the subject .208 2. Knowledge of the pupil 208 3. Knowledge of the best methods. 208 THE TRUE FOUNDATION OF SCIENCE- TEACHING.* It is almost a truism to say, that the foundation of a building is its most important feature. If the founda- tion be either insecure in itself, or laid without regard to the plan of the superstructure, tbe building as a whole will be found wanting both in unity and strength. A building is in fact the embodiment and realization of an idea conceived in the mind of the architect, and if he is competent for his post, and can secure the needful co-operation, the practical expression will symmetrically correspond to the conception. But unless the founda- tion is solidly laid, and all the parts of the building are constructed with relation to it, his aesthetic and theoretic skill will go for little or nothing. His work is doomed to failure from the beginning, and the extent of the fail- ure will be proportionate to the ambition of the design. These remarks are applicable to the art of building gen- erally, whether shown in large and imposing structures, or in the meanest cottages. In no case can the essential elements of unity and strength be dispensed with. In these preliminary observations I have foreshadowed the subject with which I have to deal — that of Science- teaching — whether carried on under the direction of a Science and Art Department, or in the smallest class of a private school; and my purpose is to ascertain how * Delivered at the College of Preceptors, on the 11th Dec, 1872. 211 212 TRUE FOUNJ)ATION OF SCIENCE-TEACHING. far the ideal of theory is realized in the general prac- tice. Whatever might have been said of the neglect of what is called '* science " in former times, we cannot make the same complaint now. A ringing chorus of voices may be heard vociferously demanding science for the children of primary, secondary, and public schools; for the Universities; in short, for all classes of society. " Science," it is said, " is the grand desideratum of our age, the true mark of our civilization. We want sci- ence to supply a mental discipline unfurnished by the old-established curriculum; we want it as the basis of the technical instruction of our workmen." In answer to this universal demand we see something called Science-teaching finding its way into primary, and even into public schools, in spite of the declaration of an eminent Head-master, not longer back than 1863, that instruction in physical science, in the way in w^hich it could be given in Winchester School, was " worth- less; " that a "scientific fact was a fact which produced nothing in a boy's mind;" and that this kind of instruc- tion "gave no power whatever." We further see this something, called Science, stimulated by grants and prizes, through the vast machinery of the Science and Art Department; and lastly we have, at this moment, a Royal Commission of eminent scientific men, taking evidence and furnishing Reports on " Scientific In- struction and theAdvancement of Science." Who, after this, will be bold enough to say that Science is not look- ing up in the knowledge-market ? But amidst all the clamor of voices demanding in- struction in Science, we listen in vain for the authorita- WHAT IS MEANT BY SCIENCE. 213 tive voice — the voice of the master artist — which shall define for us the aims and ends of Science, and lay down the laws of that teaching by which they are to be effectively secured. As things go, every teacher is left to frame his own theory of Science-teaching, and his own empirical method of carrying it out; and the result is, to apply our illustration, that the fabric of Science- teaching now rising before us rests upon no recognized and established foundation, exhibits no principle of har- monious design, and that its various stages have scarcely any relation to each other, and least of all to any solidly compacted ground-plan. The first question for consideration is, " What is meant by Science ? " The shortest answer that can be given is, that " Science is organized knowledge." This is, however, too general for our present purpose, which is, to deal with Physical Science. In a somewhat de- veloped form, then, physical science is an organized knowledge of material, concrete, objective facts or phe- nomena. The term " organized," it will be seen, is the essence of the definition, inasmuch as it connotes or implies that certain objective relations subsisting in the nature of things, between facts or phenomena, are sub- jectively appreciated by the mind — that is, that Science differs from mere knowledge by being a knowledge both of facts, and of their relations to each other. The mere random, haphazard accumulation of facts, then, is not Science; but the perception and conception of their natural relations to each other, the comprehension of these relations under general laws, and the organization of facts and laws into one body, the parts of which are seen to be subservient to each other, is Science. 214 TRUE FOUNDATION OF SCIENCE-TEACHING. Peturning to the other factor of the definitioD, "Knowledge," we observe that there are two kinds of knowledge — what we know through our own experi- ence, and what we know through the experience of others. Thus, I know by my own know^ledge that I have an audience before nie, and I know through the knowledge of others that the' ^arth is 25,000 miles in circumference. This latter fact, however, I know in a sense different from that in which I know the former. The one is a part of my experience, of my very being. The other I can only be strictly said to know when I have, by an effort of the mind, passed through the con- nected chain of facts and reasonings on which the demonstration is founded. Thus only can it become ray knowledge in the true sense of the terra. Strictly speaking, then, organized knowledge, or Sci- ence, is originally based on unorganized knowledge, and is the outcorae of the learner's own observation of facts through the exercise of his own senses, and his own re- flection upon what he has observed. This knowledge, ultimately organized into Science through the operation of his mind, he may with just right call his own; and, as a learner, he can properly call no other knowledge his own. What is reported to us by another is that other's, if gained at first-hand by experience; but it stands on a different footing from that which we have gained by our owai experience. He merely hands it over to us; but when we receive it, its condition is already changed. It wants the brightness, definiteness, and certainty in our eyes, which it had in his; and, moreover, it is merely a loan, and not our property. The fact, for instance, about the earth's circumference WHAT IS MEANT BY SCIENCE. 215 was to him a living fact; it sprang into being as the outcome of experiments and reasonings, with the entire chain of which it was seen by him to be intimately — indeed indissolubly and orgnnically connected. To us it is a dead fact, severed from its connection with the body of truth, and, by our hypothesis, having no oro-anic relation to the livino truths Ave have gained bv our own minds. These are convertible into our Science; that is not. What I insist on then is, that the knowl- edge from experience — that which is gained by bringing our own minds into direct contact with matter — is the only knowledge that as novices in science we have to do with. The dogmatic knowledge imposed on us by authority, though originally gained by the same means, is, really, not ours, but another's — is, as far as we are concerned, unorganizable; and therefore, thotigh Science to its proprietor, is not Science to us. To us it is merely information, or haphazard knowledge. The conclusions, then, at which we arrive, are — (1) That the true foundation of physical Science lies in the knowledge of physical facts gained at first-hand by ob- servation and experiment, to be made by the learner himself; (2) that all knowledge not thus gained is, pro tanto, unorcranizable, and not suited to his actual condi- tion; and (3) that his facts become organized into Science by the operation of his own mind upon them. Having given some idea of what is meant by Science, and how it grows up in the mind of the learner, I turn now to the teacher, and briefly inquire what is his ftmc- tion in the process of Science-teaching. I have elsewhere* endeavored to expound the correla- * See " Theories of Teaching," with the corresponding Practice. 216 TRUE FOUNDATION OF SCIENCE-TEACHING. tion of learning and teaching, and to show that the nat- ural process of investigation by which the unassisted student — unassisted, that is by book or teacher, — would seek, as a first discoverer, to gain an accurate knowl- edge of facts and their interpretation, suggests to us both the nature and scope of the teacher's, and espe- cially the Science-teacher's, functions. According to this view of the subject, the learner's method, and the teach- er's, serve as a mutual limit to each other. The learner is a discoverer or investigator engaged in interrogating the concrete matter before him, with a view to ascertain its nature and properties: and the teacher is a superin- tendent or director of the learner's process; pointing out the problem to be solved, concentrating the learner's attention upon it, varying the points of view suggesting experiments, inquiring what they result in; converting even errors and mistakes into means of increased power, bringing back the old to interpret the new, the known to interpret the unknown, requiring an exact record of results arrived at— in short, exercising all the powers of the learner's mind upon the matter in hand, in order to make him an accurate observer and experimenter, and to train him in the method of investigation. The teacher, then, is to be governed in his teaching, not by independent notions of his own, but by consid- erations inherent in the natural process by which the pupil learns. He is not, therefore, at liberty to ignore this natural process, which essentially involves the ob- servation, experiment, and reflection of the j^upil; nor to supersede it by intruding the results of the observa- tion, experiment, and reflection of others. He is, on the contrary, bound to recognize these operations of his pu- iPUNCTION OF THE TEACHER. 217 pil's miod as the true foundation of the Science-teaching which he professes to carry out. In other wortls, the process of the learner is the true foundation of that of the teacher. This sketch would be sufficient were it merely my ob- ject to present a theory. But as I am seriously in earn- est, and wish to see the claims of Science vindicated, and the teaching of its facts, principles, and laws placed on a totally different ground from that which it now generally occupies, 1 must pursue the subject further. It will have been observed, that I lay great stress on teaching Science in such a way that it shall become a real training of the student in the method of Science, with a view to the forming of the scientific mind. Ac- cording to the usual methods of science-teaching, it is quite possible for a student to "get up," by cramming, a number of books on scientific subjects, to attend lect- ure after lecture on the same subjects, to be drenched with endless explanations and comments on descriptions of experiments performed by others, to lodge in his memory the technical results of investigations in which he has taken no part himself, together with formulae, rules, and definitions ad infinitum, and yet, after all, never to have even caught a glimpse of the idea involved in investigation, or to have been for a moment animated by the spirit of the scientific explorer. That spirit is a spirit of power, which, not content with the achieve- ments gained by others, seeks to make conquests of its own, and therefore examines, explores, discovers, and invents for itself. These are the manifestations of the spirit of investigation, and that spirit may be excited by the true Science-teacher in the heart of a little child. I 2J8 TRUE FOUNDATION OF SCIENCE-TEACHING. may refer, for proof of this assertion, to the teacliing of botany to poor village children by the late Professor Hen- slow; to the teaching of general Science by the late Dean Dawes to a similar class of children; to that pursued at the present time at the Bristol Trade School; and to the invaluable lessons given to the imaginary Harry and Lucy by Miss Edge worth. Without warranting every process adoj^ted by these eminently successful teachers, some of whom were perhaps a little too much addicted to explaining, I have no hestation in declaring that they one and all acted mainly on the principle that true Science-teaching consists in bringing the pupil's mind into direct contact with facts — in getting him to inves- tigate, discover, and invent for himself. The same method is recommended in Miss Youman's philosophical Essay "On the Culture of the Observing powers of chil- dren,"* and rigorously applied in her " First Lessons on Botany; " and in the Supplement to that little volume f I have given, as its editor, a typical lesson on the pile-driv- ing engine, which illustrates the following principles: — 1. That the pupils throughout the lesson, are learning — i. e., teaching themselves, by the exercise of their own minds, without, and not by, the explanations of the teacher. 2. That the pupils gain their knowledge from the object itself, not from a description of the object fur- nished by another. 3. That the observations and experiments are their own observations and experiments, made by their own * " An Essay on the Culture of the Observing Powers of Children, es- pecially in connection with the Study of Botany. By Eliza A. Youmans, of New York, with Notes and a Supplement by Joseph Payne." t See also page 95 of this volume. KNOWLEDGE AT FIRST-HAND. 219 senses and by their own hands, as investigators seeking to ascertain for themselves what the object before them is, and what it is capable of doing. 4. That the teacher recognizes his proper function as that of a guide or director of the pupil's process of self- teaching, which he aids by moral means, but does not supersede by the intervention of his own knowledge. These hints all tend to show what is really meant by Science-teaching, as generally distinguished from other teaching. In case, however, my competency to give an opinion on Science-teaching should be questioned, I beg to en- force my views by the authority of Professor Huxley, who, in a lecture on "Scientific Education," thus ex- presses himself : — "If scientific training is to yield its most eminent results, it must be made practical — that is to say, in explaining to a child the general phenomena of nature, you must, as far as possible, give reality to your teaching by object-lessons. In teaching him bot- any, he must handle the plants and dissect the flowers for himself; in teaching him physics and chemistry, you must not be solicitous to fill him with information, but you must be careful that what he learns he knows of his own knowledge. Do not be satisfied with telling him that a magnet attracts iron. Let him see that it does; let him feel the pull of the one upon the other for himself. . . . Pursue this discipline carefully and conscientiously, and you may make sure that, however scanty may be the measure of information which you have poured into the boy's mind, you have created an intellectual habit of priceless value in practical life." Again, in the same lecture, the Professor says, — " If 220 TRUE FOUNDATION OF SCIENCE- TEACHING. the great benefits of scientific training are sought, it is essential that such training should be real — that is to say that the mind of the scholar should be brought into direct relation with fact; that he should not merely be told a thing, but made to see, by the use of his own intellect and ability, that the thing is so, and not other- wise. The great peculiarity of scientific training — that in virtue of which it cannot be replaced by any other discipline whatever — is this bringing of the mind directly into contact with fact, and practising the mind in the completest form of induction — that is to say, in drawing conclusions from particular facts made known by imme- diate observations of Nature." To the same effect another eminent Science-teacher, Mr. Wilson, of Kugby School, thus expresses himself. *' Theory and experience," he says, "alike convince me that the master who is teaching a class quite unfamiliar with scientific method, ought to make his class teach themselves, by thinking out the subject of the lecture with them, taking up their suggestions and illustrations, criticising them, hunting them down, and proving a suggestion barren or an illustration inapt; starting them on a fresh scent when they are at fault, reminding them of some familiar fact they had overlooked, and so elicit- ing out of the chaos of vague notions that are afloat on the matter in hand, be it the laws of motion, the evap- oration of water, or the origin of the drift, something of order, concatenation, and interest, before the key to the mystery is given, even if, at all, it has to be given. Training to think, not to be a mechanic or a surveyor, must be first and foremost as his object. So valuable are the subjects intrinsically, and such excellent models OPINIONS OF EMINENT EDUCATORS. 221 do they provide, that the most stupid and didactic teaching will not be useless; but it will not be the same source of power that the method of investigation will be in the hands of a good master." My last quotation will be from the very valuable lect- ure given here by Dr. Kenishead, the able Science- teacher of Dulwich College, on "The Impoi'tjince of Physical Science as a branch of English Gent^ral Educa- tion. " Referring lo education generally, he >ays, and I entirely agree with him, — *' I wish it particularly to be borne in mind that, whenever I use the word education, I use it in its highest ahd truest sense of training and developing the mind. I hold the acquisition of mere useful knowledge, however important and valuable it may be, to be entirely secondary and subsidiary. 1 con- sider it to be of more value to teach the young mind to think out one original problem, to draw one correct conclusion for itself, than to have acquired the whole of ' Mangnall's Questions ' or ' Brewer's Guide to Science.' " There speaks the true teacher. But what does he say on Science-teaching? This: — "I wish particularly to draw the distinction between mere scientific knowledge and scientific training. I do not believe in the former; I do believe in the latter. In physical and experimental science, studied for the sake of training, the mode of teaching is everything. I know of one school [we shall soon see that there are many such] in which physical science is made a strong point in the prospectus, where chemistry is taught by reading a text-book (a very anti- quated one, since it only gives forty-five elements), but in which the experiments are learnt by heart, and never seen practically. Such a proceeding is a mere farce on 222 TRUE FOUNDATION OF SCIENCE-TEACHING. Science." But Dr. Kemshead proceeds, — " Of course, as mere useful knowledge, Lardner's hand-books, or any other good text-books, might be committed to memory. So long as the facts are correct, and are put in a manner that the pupil can receive them, the end is gained; but this is not scientific teaching — cramming if you like, but not teaching. It will I am sure, be manifest to you all that there is nothing of scientific training in this. To develop scientific habits of thought — the scientific mind, the teaching must be of a totally different nature. In order to get the fullest benefit from a scientific educa- tion, the teacher should endeavor to bring his pupil face to face with the great problems of Nature, as though he were the first discoverer. He should encourage him from the first to record accurately all his experiments, the object he had in view in making theoi, the results even when they have failed, and the inferences which he draws in each case, with as much rigor and exactitude as though they were to be published in the 'Philosophi- cal Transactions.' He should, in fact, teach his pupil to face the great problems of Nature as though they had never been solved before." "To face the great problems of nature as though they had never been solved before " — " to bring the child face to face with the great problems of Nature, as though he were the first discoverer " — these weighty, pregnant, and luminous expressions contain the essence of the whole question I have endeavored to set before you. They define, as you easily perceive, the attitude of the pupil in regard to his subjective process of learn- ing — the one being the counterpart of the other. It will have been noticed, perhaps, that nothing has THE PKOVINCE OF TEXT-BOOKS. 223 been said of text-books, which some consider as " the true foundation of Science-teaching." The reason of this omission lies in the nature of things. The books of a true student of physical Science are the associated facts and phenomena of iSTature. He finds them in " the running brooks," the mountains, trees, and rocks; where- ever, in short, he is brought face to face with facts and phenomena; these are the pages, whose sentences, phras- es, words, and letters he is to decipher and interpret by his own investigation. The intervention of a text-book, so-called, between the student and the matter he is to study, is an impertinence. For what is such a text-book ? A compendium of observations and experiments made by others in view of that very nature-book which, by the hypothesis, he is to study at first hand for himself, and of definitions, rules, generalizations, and classifications which he is, through the active powers of his mind, to make for himself. The student's own method of study is the true method of Science. He is being gradually initiated in the processes by which both knowledge, truly his own, and the power of gaining more, are se- cured. Why should we supersede and neutralize his en- ergies, and altogethei: disorganize his plan by requiring him to receive on authority the results of other people's labors in the same field ? Again, a text-book on Science is a logically constructed treatise, in which the proposi- tions last arrived at by the author are presented first — in the reverse order to that followed by the method of Science. The sufficient test of the use of books in Sci- ence-teaching, is, in fact, this: Do they train the mind to scientific method ? If they do not — if on the con- trary, they discountenance that method, — then they are 224 TRUE FOUNDATION OF SCIENCE-TEACHING. to be rejected in that elementary work — the foundation of Science-teaching — with which alone we are here con- cerned. Once raore, I appeal to Prof. Huxley, who tells lis that, *' If Scientific education is to be dealt with as mere book-work, it will be better not to attempt it, but to stick to the Latin Grammar, which makes no pretense to be anything but book-work." Again in his Lecture to Teachers, — "But let me entreat you to remember my last words. Mere book learning in physical Science is a sham and a delusion. What you teach, unless you wish to be impostors, that you must first know; and real knowledge in Science means personal acquaintance with the facts, be they few or many ? " But I must add to these authoritative words those of Dr. Acland, who, when asked by the Public Schools Commission his opinion of the Lond<»n University Examinations in Physical Science, thus replied: — "I may say, generally, that I should val- ue all knowledge of these physical sciences very little indeed unless it was otherwise than book-work If it is merely a question of getting up certain books, and be- ing able to answer certain book questions that is merely an exercise of the memory of a very useless kind. The great object, though not the sole object, of this training should be to get the boys to observe and understand the action of matter in some department or another . . . I want them to see and know the things, and in that way they will evoke many qualities of the mind, which the study of these subjects is intended to develop." (vol. iv. p. 407). These words sufficiently show both what the true foundation is, and what it is not. Once more — for the importance of this matter can hardly be too much insisted on— hear what Prof. Huxley says, in his evi- THE PROVINCE OF TEXT-BOOKS. 225 dence before the Commission on Scientific Instruction (p. 23): — "The great blunder that our people make, I think, is attempting to teach from books; our school- masters have largely been taught from books and noth- ing but books, and a great many of them understand nothing but book teaching, as far as I can see. The consequence is, that when they attempt to deal with Scientific teaching, they make nothing of it. If you are setting to work to teach a child Science, you must teach it through its eyes, and its hands, and its senses." I do not for a moment deny that much is to be gained from the study of scientific text-books. It would be absurd to do so. What I do «leny is that the reading up of books on Science — which is, strictly speaking, a literary study — either is, or can possibly be, a training in scien- tific method. To receive facts in Science on any other authority than that of the facts themselves; to get up the observations, experiments and comments of others, instead ol observing, experimenting, and commenting ourselves; to learn definititions, rules, abstract proposi- tions, technicalities, before we personally deal with the facts which lead up to them; all this, whether in literary or scientific education — and especially in the latter — is of the essence of cramming, and is therefore entirely opposed to, and destructive of, true mental training and discipline. TRUE FOUNDATION OF SCIENCE-TEACHING - ANALYSIS. I, Modern demand for Science- Teacldng .212 1. Rests upon no solid foundation ..211, 213 II. What is meant by Science f 213 1, Organized knowledge of concrete facts 213 {a) Not only of facts, but of their relations ..213 {b) Knowledge by experience vs. that by report 214 (c) Novices have to do only with experience ..215 [d) Science vs. information 215 2. Hence these conclusions : (a) The foundation lies in knowledge at first hand.. .215 {b) All other knowledge unorganizable .215 (c) These facts are organized by mental action 215 III. Function of the Teacher in Science-Teaching .216 1. The learner's and the teacher's methods limit each other.. 216 {a) The teacher to be governed by the pupil's methods _ 217 IV. The PupiVs mind to be brought into contact with Facts 217 1. Facts may be crammed without a glimpse of the idea ..217 2. Even little children may have spirit of investigation. 218 {a) Proved by Prof. Henslow, Miss Edgeworth, etc. 218 3. Illustrated by lesson on pile-driver 219 {a) Pupils learn without explanations.. 219 ip) They gain their knowledge from the object itself .219 (c) They are personal investigators 219 {d) The teacher is the guide and director 219 4. Confirmed by eminent educators 219 {a) Prof. Huxley 219 226 ANALYSIS. 227 (b) Mr. Wilson of Rugby School 220 (c) Dr. Kemshead, of Dulwich College 221 . The true text-books are the facts of nature 223 (a) Intervention of a book an impertinence 223 (b) Its method the opposite of investigation 223 (c) Book-learning in science a sham and delusion 224 (d) Opinions of eminent educators 224 {e) Reading text-books literary, not scientific -225 PESTALOZZI; THE INFLUENCE OF HIS PKINCIPLES AND PRACTICE ON ELEMENTARY EDUCATION.* Familiar as Pestalozzi's name is to our ears, it will hardly be pretended that he himself is well known amongst us. His life and personal character — the work he did himself, and that which he influenced others to do — his successess and failures as a teacher, form alto- gether a large subject, which requires, to do it justice, a thoughtful and lengthened study. Parts of the subject have been from time to time brought very prominently before the public, but often in such a way as to throw the rest into shadow, and hinder the appreciation of it as a whole. Though this has been done without any hostile intention, the general effect has been in England to misrepresent, and therefore to under-estimate, a very remarkable man — a man whose principles, slowly but surely operating on the public opinion of Germany, have sufficed, to use his own pithy expression, "to turn right round the car of Education, and set it in a new direc- tion." One of the aspects in which he has been brought be- fore us — and it deserves every consideration— is that of an earnest, self-sacrificing, enthusiastic philanthropist, endowed with what Kichter calls " an almighty love,'' * A lecture delivered at the College of Preceptors, on theSOtli Feb., 1875. 228 PARTIAL VIEWS OF HIS CHARACTER. 229 whose first and last thought was how he might raise the debased and suffering among his countrymen to a higher level of happiness and knowledge, by bestowing upon them the blessings of education. It is right that he should be thus exhibited to the world, for never did any man better deserve to be enrolled in the noble army of martyrs who have died that others might live, than Pes- talozzi. To call him the Howard of educational philan. thropists, is only doing scant justice to his devoted char- acter, and under-estimates, rather than over-estimates, the man. Another aspect in which Pestalozzi is sometimes pre- sented to us, is that of an unhandy, unpractical, dreamy theorist; whose views were ever extending beyond the compass of his control; who, like the djinn of the East- ern story, called into being forces which mastered in- stead of obeying him; whose *' unrivalled incapacity for governing" (this is his own confession) made him the victim of circumstances; who was utterly wanting in worldly wisdom; who, knowing man, did not know men; and who, therefore, is to be set down as one who prom- ised mu(;h more than he performed. It is impossible to deny that there is substantial truth in such a representa- tion; but this only increases the wonder that, in spite of his disqualifications, he accomplished so much. It is still true that his awakening voice, calling for reform in education, was responded to by hundreds of earnest and intelligent men, who placed themselves under his ban- ner, and were proud to follow whither the Luther of educational reform wished to lead them. A third view of Pestalozzi presents him to us as merely interested about elementary education — and this 230 PESTALOZZI. appears to many who are engaged in teaching what are called higher subjects, a matter in which they have little or no concern. Those, however, who thus look down on Pestalozzi's work, only show, by their indifference, a profound want, both of self-knowledge, and of a knowl- edge of his principles and purpose. Elementary educa- tion, in the sense in which Pestalozzi understands it, is, or ought to be, the concern of every teacher, whatever be his especial subject, and whatever the age of his pu- pils; and when he sees that elementary education is only another expression for the forming of the character and mind of the child, he must acknowledge that this object comes properly within the sphere of his labors, and deserves, on every ground, his thoughtful atten- tion. In spite, then, of Pestalozzi's patent disqualifications in many respects for the task he undertook; in spite of his ignorance of even common subjects (for he spoke, read, wrote, and ciphered badly, and knew next to nothing of classics or science); in spite of his want of worldly wisdom, of any comprehensive and exact knowl- edge of men and of things; in spite of his being merely an elementary teacher, — through the force of his all- conquering love, the nobility of his heart, the resistless energy of his enthusiasm, his firm grasp of a few first principles, his eloquent exposition of them in words, his resolute manifestation of them in deeds, — he stands forth among educational reformers as the man whose influence on education is wider, deeper, more penetrat- ing, than that of all the rest — the prophet and the sov- ereign of the domain in which he lived and labored. The fact that, with such disqualifications and draw- HIS PERSONAL DISADVANTAGES. 2Sl backs, he has attained such a position, supersedes any argument for our giving earnest heed to what he wag and what he did. It is a fact pregnant in suggestions, and to the consideration of them this Lecture is to be devoted. It was late in life — he was fifiy-two years of age — before Pestalozzi became a practical schoolmaster. He had even begun to despair of ever finding the career in which he might attempt to realize the theories over which his loving heart and teeming brain had been brooding from his earliest youth. He feared that he should die, wnthout reducing the ideal of his thought to the real of action.* Besides the advanced ao;e at which Pestalozzi began his work, there was another disability in his case to which I have not referred. This was, that not only had he had no experience of school w^ork, but he knew no emi- nent teacher whose example might have stimulated him 10 imitation; and he was entirely ignorant (with one notable exception) of all writings on the theory and practice of education. The exception I refer to is the Emile of Rousseau, a remarkably suggestive book, which made, as was to be expected, a strong impression on his mind. We know from his own account, that he had already endeavored, with indifferent success, to make his own son another Emile. The diary in which he has * See the {Kirticulars of Pestalozzi's life, in Mr. Quick's admirable Essays on Educational Reformers ; in Pe-^tal-zzi, edited for tlie Home and Colo- nial Society, by Mr. Diuininji:, in Von Raumer's History of Education ; in Roger de Guinips' Histoire cJe Pestalozzi, de sa Pensee, et de son Qi^uvre, Lausanne, 1874; in the irfe and work of Pestalozzi, by Hermann Kriisi, New York, 1875; and in various treatises by Mr. Henry Barnard, formerly Commissioner of Education, Washington. 23^ PESTALOZZi. recorclecl day by day the particulars of his experiment is extremely interesting and instructive. At fifty-two years of age, then, we find Pestalozzi utterly unacquainted with the science and the art of education, and very scantily furnished even with ele- mentary knowledge, undertaking at Stanz, in the canton of Unterwalden, the charge of eighty children, whom the events of war had rendered homeless and destitute. Here he was at last in the j^osition which, during years of sorrow and disappointment, he had eagerly desired to fill. He was now brought into immediate contact with ignorance, vice, and brutality, and had the opportunity for testing the power of his long-cherished theories. The man whose absorbing idea had been that the ennobling of the people, even of the lowest class, through education, was no mere dream, was now, in the midst of extraordinary difficulties, to struggle with the solution of the problem. And surely if any man con- sciously possessing strength to fight, and only desi]"ing to be brought face to face with his adversary, ever liad his utmost wishes granted, it was Pestalozzi at Stanz. Let us try for a moment to realize the circumstances — the forces of the enemy on the one side, the single arm on the other, and the field of the combat. The house in wl)ich the eighty children were assembled, to be boarded, lodged, and taught, was an old tumble-down Ursuline convent, scarcely habitable, and destitute of all the con- veniences of life. The only apartment suitable for a schoolroom was about twenty-four feet square, furnished with a few desks and forms; and into this weie crowded the wretched children, noisy, dirty, diseased, and igno- rant, with the manners and habits of barbarians. Pes- HIS WOEK AT STANZ. 233 talozzi's only helper in the management of the institu- tion was an old woman, who cooked the food and swept the rooms; so that he was, as he tells ns himself, not only the teacher, but the paymaster, the man-servant, and almost the house-maid of the children. Here, then, we see Pestalozzi surrounded by a " sea of troubles," against which he had not only " to take arms," but to forge the arms himself. And what was the single weapon on which he relied for conquest ? It was his own loving heart. Hear his words: — "My wishes were now accomplished. 1 felt convinced that my heart would change the condition of my children as speedily as the springtide sun reanimates the earth frozen by the winter." "Nor," he adds, " was I mis- taken. Before the springtide sun melted away the snow from our mountains, you could no longer recognize the same children." But how was this wondeful transformation effected? What do Pestalozzi's words really mean ? Let us pause for a moment to consider them. Here is a man who, in presence of ignorance, obstinacy, dirt, brutality, and vice — enemies that will destroy him unless he can des- troy them — opposes to them the unresistible might of w^eakness, or what appears such, and lights them with his heart! Let all teachers ponder over the fact, and remember that this weapon, too frequently forgotten, and there- fore unf orged in our training colleges, is an indispensible requisite to their equipment. Wanting this, all the para- phernalia of literary certiiicates — even the diplomas of the College of Preceptors — will be unavailing. With it, the teacher, poorly furnished in other respects (think of 234 PESTALOZZI. Pestalozzi's literary qualifications ! ), may work wonders, compared with which the so-called magician's are mere child's play. The first lesson, then, that we learn from Pestalozzi is, that the teacher must have a heart — an ap- parently simple but really profound discovery, to which we cannot attach too ranch importance. But Pestalozzi's own heart was not merely a statical heart — a heart furnished with capabilities for action, but not acting; it was a dynamical heart — a heart which was constantly at work, and vitalized the system. Let us see how it worked. " I was obliged," he says, " unceasingly to be every- thing to my children. I was alone with them from morn- ing to night. It was from my hand that they received whatever could be of service both to their bodies and minds. All succor, all consolation, all instruction came to them immediately from myself. Their hands were in my hand; my eyes were fixed on theirs, my tears mingled with theirs, my smiles encountered theirs, my soup was their soup, my drink was their drink. I had around me neither family, friends, nor servants; I had only them. I was with them when they were in health, by their side when they were ill. I slept in their midst. I was the last to go to bed, the first to rise in the morning. When we were in bed, I used to pray with them and talk to them till they went to sleep. They wished me to do so." This active, practical, self sacrificing love, beaming on the frozen hearts of the children, by degrees melted and animated them. But it was only by degrees. " Pes- talozzi was at first disappointed. He had expected too much, and had formed no plan of action. He even rath- er prided himself upon his want of plan. HIS THEORY OF MORAL EDUCATION. 235 "I knew," be says, "no system, no method, no art but that which rested on the simple consequences of the firm belief of the children in my love towards them. I wished to know no other." Before long, however, he began to see that the re- sponse which the movement of bis heart towards theirs called forth was rather a response of his personal efforts, than one dictated by their own will and conscience. It excited action, but not spontaneous, independent action. This did not satisfy him. He wished to make them act from strictly moral motives. Gradually, then, Pestalozzi advanced to the main principles of his system of moral education — that virtue, to be worth anything, must be practical; that it must consist not merely in knowing what is right, but in do- ing it; that even knowing wbat is right does not come from the exposition of dogmatic precepts, but from the convictions of the conscience; and that, therefore, both knowing and doing rest ultimately on tbe enlightenment of the conscience through the exercise of the intellect. He endeavored, in the first place, to awaken the moral sense — to make the children conscious of their moral powers, and to accomplish his object, not by preaching to them, though he sometimes did this, but by calling these powers into exercise. He gave them, as he tells us, few explanations. He taught them dogmatically neither morality nor religion. He wished them to be both moral aad religious; but he conceived that it was not possible to make them so by verbal precept, by word of command, nor by forcing them to commit to memory formularies which did not represent their own convic- tions. He did not wish them to say they believed, be- 236 PESTALOZZI. fore they believed. He appealed to wlmt was divine in their hearts, implanted there by the Supreme Creator; and having brought it out into consciousness, called on them to exhibit it in action. " When," he says, " the children were perfectly still, so that you might hear a pin drop, I said to them, ' Don't you feel yourselves more reasonable and more happy now than when you are making a disorderly noise ?" When they clung round my neck and called me their father, I would say, ' Chil- dren, could you deceive your father ? Could you, after embracing me thus, do behind my back what you know I disapprove of ? ' And when we were speaking about the misery of our country, and they felt the happiness of their own lot, I used to say, * How good God is, to make the heart of man pitiful and compassionate.' " At other times, after telling them of the desolation of some family in the neighborhood, he would ask them whether they were willing to sacrifice a portion of their own food to feed the starving children of that family ? These instances will suffice to show generally what Pestalozzi meant by moral education, and how he oper- ated on the hearts and consciences of the children. We see that, instead of feeding their imagination with pict- ures of virtue beyond and above their sphere, he called on them to exercise those within their reach. He knew what their ordinary family life had been, and he wished to prepare them for something better and nobler; but he felt that this could only be accomplished by making them, while members of his family, consciously appre- ciate what was right and desire to do it. Here then, in moral and, as we shall presently see, in intellectual education, Pestalozzi proceeded from the FROM THE CONCRETE TO THE ABSTRACT. 237 near, the practical, the actual — to the remote, the ab- stract, the ideal. It was on the foundation of what the children were, and could become, in the sphere they occupied, that he built up their moral education. But he conceived — and, I think, justly — that their intellectual training was to he looked on as part of their moral training. Whatever increases our knowledge of things as they are, leads to the appreciation of the truth; for truth, in the widest sense of the^icrm, is this knowledge. But the acquisition of knowledge, as re- quiring mental effort, and therefore exercising the active powers, necessarily increases the capacity to form judg- ments on moral questions; so, that, in proportion as you cultivate the will, the affections, and the conscience, with a view to independent action, you must cultivate the intellect, which is to impose the proper limits on that independence; and on the other hand, in proportion as you cultivate the intellect, you must train the moral powers which are to carry its decisions into effect. Moral and intellectual education must consequently, in the formation of the human being, proceed together, the one stimulating and maintaining the action of the other. Pestalozzi, therefore, instructed as well as edu- cated; and indeed educated by means of instruction. In carrying out this object, he adopted the general prin- ciple I before stated. He proceeded from the near, the practical, the actual, to the remote, the abstract, and the ideal. We shall see his theoretical views on this point in a few quotations from a work which he wrote some years before, entitled " The Evening Hour of a Hermit.'^'' He says: — 238 PESTALOZZI. "Nature develops all the human faculties by practice, and their growth depends on their exercise." "The circle of knowledge commences close around a man, and thence extends concentrically." "Force not the faculties of children into the remote paths of knowledge, until they have gained strength by exercise on things that are near them. " " There is in Nature an order and march of development. If you disturb or interfere with it, you mar the peace and harmony of the mind. And this you do, if, before you have formed the mind by thejpl-ogressive knowledge of the realities of life, you filing it into tne labyrinth of words, and make them the basis of development." " The artificial march of the ordinary school, anticipating the order of Nature, which proceeds without anxiety and without haste, inverts this order by placing words first, and thus secures a deceitful appearance of success at the expense of natural and safe development." In these few sentences we recognize all that is most characteristic in the educational principles of Pesta- lozzi. I will put them into another form: — (1) There is a natural order in which the powers of the human being develop or unfold themselves. (2) We must study and understand this order of Na- ture, if we would aid, and not disturb, the develop- ment. (3) We aid the development, and consequently pro- mote the growth of the faculties concerned in it, when we call them into exercise. (4) Nature exercises the faculties of children on the realities of life — on the near, the present, the actual. (5) If we would promote that exercise of the faculties which constitutes development and ends in growth, we SOUND PRINCIPLES, IMPERFECT APPLICATION. 239 also, as teachers, must, in the case of children, direct them to the realities of life — to the things which come in contact with them, which concern their immediate in- terests, feelings, and thoughts. (6) Within this area of personal experience we must confine them, until, by assiduous, practical exercise in it, their powers are strengthened, and they are prepared to advance to the next concentric circle, and then to the next, and so on, in unbroken succession. ^ (7) In the order of Nature, things go before words, the realities before the symbols, the substance before shadow. We cannot, without disturbing the harmonious order of the development, invert this order. If we do so, we take the traveller out of the open sunlit high-road, and plunge him into an obscure labyrinth, where he gets entangled and bewildered, and loses his way. These are the fundamental principles of Pestalozzi's theory of intellectual as well as moral education, and I need hardly say that they resolve themselves into the principles of human nature. But we next inquire, How did he apply them ? What was his method ? These questions are somewhat em- barrassing, and, if strictly pressed, must be answered by saying that he often applied them very imperfectly and inconsistently, and that his method for the most part consisted in having none at all. The fact is, that the unrivalled incapacity for governing men and external things, to which he confessed, extended itself also to the inner region of his understanding. He could no more govern his conceptions than the circumstances around him. The resulting action, then, was wanting in order and proportion. It was the action of a man set upon 240 PESTAXOZZI. bringing out the powers of those he influenced, but ap- parently almost indifferent to what became of the results. His notion of education as development was clear, but he scarcely conceived of it as also training and discipline. Provided that he could secure a vivid interest in his lesson, and see the response to his efforts in the kindling eyes and animated countenances of his pupils, he was satisfied. He took it for granted that what was so eagerly received would be certainly re- tained, and therefore never thought of repeating the lesson, nor of examining the product. He was so earn- estly intent upon going ahead, that he scarcely looked back to see who were following; and to his enormous zeal for the good of the whole, often sacrificed the inter- ests of individuals. This zeal was without discretion. He forgot what he might have learned from Rousseau^ that a teacher who is master of his art frequently ad- vances most surely by standing stilJ, and does most by doing nothing. In the matter of words, moreover, his practice was often directly opposed to his principles. He would give lists of words to be repeated after him, or learnt by heart, which represented nothing real in the experience of the pupils. In various other ways he manifested a strange inconsistency. Yet, in spite of these drawbacks, if we look upon the teacher as a man whose especial function it is, to use an illustration from Socrates, to be, as it were, the ac- coucheur of the mind, to bring it out into the sunlight of life, to rouse its dormant powers, and make it con- scious of their possession, we must assign to Pestalozzi a very high rank among teachers. It was this remarkable instinct for developing the fac- A CARDINAL PEINCIPLE. 241 ulties of bis pupils that formed his main characteristic as a teacher. Herein lay his great strength. To set the intellectual machinery in motion — to make it work, and keep it working; that was the sole object at which he aimed: of all the rest he took little account. If he had any method, this was its most important element. But, in carrying it out, he relied upon a principle which must be insisted on as cardinal and essential in education. Se secured the thorough interest of his pupils in the lesson, and mainly through their own direct share in it. By his influence up- on them he got them to concentrate all their powers upon it; and this concentration, involving self-exercise, in turn, by reaction, augmented the interest; and the result was an inseparable association of the act of learning with pleasure in learning. Whatever else, then, Pestalozzi's teaching lacked, it was intensely interesting to the chil- dren, and made them love learning. Consistently with the principles quoted from the " Evening Hours of a Hermit,'''' and with the practice just described, we see that Pestalozzi's conception of the teacher's function made it consist pre-eminently in rous- ing the pupil's native energies, and bringing about their self-development. This self-development is the conse- quence of the self -activity of the pupil's own mind — of the experience Avhich his mind goes through in dealing with the matter to be learned. This experience must be his own; by no other experience than his own can he be educated at all. The education, therefore, that he gains is self-education; and the teacher is constituted as the stimulator and director of the intellectual processes hy which the learner educates himself. This I hold to be the central principle of all education — of all teaching; and although 242 PESTALOZZI. not formally enunciated in these words by Pestalozzi, it is clearly deducible from his theory. We are now prepared to estimate the great and spe- cial service which Pestalozzi did to education. It is not his speculative theories, nor his practice (especially the latter), which have given him his reputation — it is that he, beyond all who preceeded him, demanded that para- mount importance should be attached to the elementary stages of teaching. " His differentia^''^ as Mr. Quick justly remarks, "is rather his aim than his method." He saw more -clearly than all his predecessors, not only what was needed, but how the need was to be supplied. Ele- mentary education, in his view, means, not definite in- struction in special subjects, but the eliciting of the powers of the child as preparative to definite instruc- tion, — it means that course of cultivation which the mind of every child ought to go through, in order to se- cure the all-sided development of his powers. It does not mean learning to read, write, and cipher, which are matters of instruction, but the exercises which should precede them. Viewed more generally, it is that as- siduous work of the j^upil's mind upon facts, as the building materials of knowledge, by which they are to be shaped and prepared for their place in the edifice. After this is done, but not before, instruction proper commences its systematic work. This principle may find its most general expression as a precept for the teacher thus: — Always make your pupil hegin his education ly dealing with concrete things and facts, never with abstractions and generalizations — such as definitions^ rules, and propositions couched in words. Things first, after- wards words — particular facts first, afterwards general ELEMENTARY EDUCATION. 243 facts, or principles. The child has eyes, ears, and fingers, which he can employ on things and facts, and gain ideas — that is, knowledge — from them. Let him, then, thus employ them. This employment constitutes his elementary education — the education which makes him conscious of his jDowers, forms the mind, and pre- pares it for its after work. We now see what Pestalozzi meant by elementary education. The next question is, how be proposed to secure it. Let us hear what he himself says: — "If I look back and ask myself what I have really done towards the improvement of elementary education, I find that in recognizing Observation {^Anschauung) as the absolute basis of all knowledge, I have established the first and most important principle of instruction; and that, setting aside all particular systems, I have en- deavored to discover what ought to be the character of instruction itself, and what are the fundamental laws according to which the natural education of the human race must be conducted." In another place he says, " Observation is the absolute basis of all knowledge. In other words, all knowledge must proceed from observa- tion, and must admit of being traced to that source." The word Anschauung, which we translate generally and somewhat vaguely by Observation, corresponds rather more closely to our word Perception. It is the mind's looking into, or intellectual grasping of, a thing, which is due to the reaction of its powers, after the passive reception of impressions or sensations from it. We see a thing which merely flits before our eyes, but we perceive it only when we have exhausted the action of our senses upon it, when we have dealt with it by the 244 PESTALOZZI. whole mind. The act of perceptioD, then, is the act by wliich we know the object. If we use the term Observa- tion in this comprehensive sense, it may be taken as equivalent to Anschauung. Observation, then, according to Pestalozzi (and Bacon had said the same thing before him), is the absolute basis of all knowledge, and is, therefore, the prime agent in elementary education. It is around this theory, as a cenlre of gravity, that Pestalozzi's system revolves. The demands of this theory can only be satisfied by educating the learner's senses, and making him, by their use, an accurate observer — and this not merely for the purpose of quickening the senses, but of securing clear and definite perceptions, and this again with a view to lay firmly the foundation of all knowledge. The habit of accurate observation, as I have thus defined it, is not taught by Nature. It must be acquired by experience. Miss Martineau remarks: — "A child does not catch a gold fish in water at the first trial, however good his eyes may be, and however clear the water. Knowledge and method are necessary to enable him to take what is actually before his eyes and under his hand;" and she adds, "The powers of observation must be trained, and habits of method in arranging the materials presented to the eye [and the other sense-organs] must be acquired before the student possesses the requisites for under- standing what he contemplates." * It is scarcely necessary to show in detail what is meant by the education of the senses. This education consists in their exercise — an exercise which involves * See some excellent remarks on this subject In Miss Youman's essay EDFCATIOX OF THE SENSES. 245 the development of all the elementary powers of the learner. Any one may see this education going on in the games and employments of the kindergarten, and indeed in the occupations of every little child left to himself. It is, therefore, in the strictest sense of the term, self-education. But it should also be made an object of direct attention and study, and lessons should be given for the express purpose of securing it. The materials for such lessons are of course abundant on every hand. Earth, sky, and sea, the dwelling-house, the fields, the gardens, the streets, the river, the forest, supply them by thousands. All things within the area of the visible, the audible, and the tangible, supply the matter for such object lessons, and upon these concrete realities the sense may be educated. Drawing, again, and moulding in clay, the cutting out of paper forms, building with wooden bricks or cubes to a pattern, are all parts of the education of the senses, and at the same time, exercises for the improvement of the observing powers. Then, again, measuring objects with a foot measure, weighing them in scales with real weights, gaining; the power of estimating the dimensions of bodies by the eye, and their weight by poising^ them in the hand, and then verifying the guesses by actual trial — these, too, are valuable exercises for the education of the senses. It is needless to particularize further, but who does not see that such exercises involve, not merely the training of the senses, but also the culture of the observing powers as well as the exercise of judg- ment, reasoning, and invention, and all as parts of ele- 011 the culture of the observing powers of children in Second Book of Botany. New York. 246 PESTALOZZI. mentary education ? * It is impossible to exaggerate their value and importance. But elementary education, rightly understood, ap- plies also to the initiatory stage of all definite instruc- tion. If we accept Pestalozzi's doctrine, that all education must begin with the near, the actual, the real, the concrete, we must not begin any subject whatever, in the case of children, with the remote, the abstract, and the ideal — that is, never Avith definitions, generali- ties, or rules; which, as far as their experience is con- cerned, all belong to this category. In teaching Physics, then, we must begin with the phenomena themselves; in teaching Magnetism, for instance, with the child's actual experience of the mutual attraction of the mag- net and the steel bar; Arithmetic must begin with counting and grouping marV)les, peas, etc., not with ab- stract numbers; Geometry, not with propositions and theorems, but with observing the forms of solid cubes, spheres, etc.; Geography, not with excursions into un- known regions, but with the schoolroom, the house, etc., thence proceeding concentrically; Language, too, with observing words and sentences as facts to be compared together, classified, and generalized by the learner him- self. In all these cases the same principle applies. The learner must first gain personal experience in the area of the near and the real, in which he can exercise his own powers; this area thus becomes the known which is to interpret the unknown, and thus the principle is established that the learner educates himself under the stimulation and direction of the educator. ♦ I beg very strongly to recommend to all teachers, and to mothers who teach their children, a most valuable little book, written by the late Horace Grant, Exercises for the Improvement of the Senses. London. diestekweg's distinctions. 247 You are now, I presume, aware of what Pestalozzi means by elementary educatiou; and you see that it resolves itself into the education which the lefirner gives himself by exercising his own powers of observation and experiment. The method of elementary education, is, therefore, the child's own natural method of gaining knowledge, guided and superintended by the formal teacher. This method has been, by Diester weg, an eminent German disciple of Pestalozzi, strongly distinguished from what he calls the Scientific method — that which is employed in higher instruction, in universities and col- leges, and is suitable for leai'ners whose minds are already developed and trained. The Elementary method, he says, is inductive, analytic, inventive (or heuristic, from Evpidfcco, I find out), developing. It begins with individual things or facts, lays these as the foundation, and proceeds afterwards to general facts or principles. The Scientific method, on the other hand, is deductive, synthetic, dogmatic, and didactic. It begins with defi- nitions, general propositions, and axioms, and proceeds downwards to the individual facts on which they are founded. I will give the substance of his further remarks on the subject. In learning by the Elementary method, we begin with individual things — facts or objects. From these we gain definite ideas, ideas naturally related to the condi- tion of our powers, or of our knowdedge, as being the result of our own personal experience. Such knowl- edge, as the product of our own efforts, is ours, in a sense in which no knowledge of others can ever become 248 PESTALOZZI. ours; and, being ours, serves as the solid basis of the judgment and inductions that we are able to form, — the method is inductive because it begins with individual facts. The Scientific method, on the other hand, is deductive, because it begins with general principles, definitions, axioms, formulae, etc.; that is to say, with deductive propositions founded on facts which the learner is after- wards to know, not with facts which he already knows. The definitions, etc., are constructed for him, not by him. They are the ready-made results of the explora- tion of others, not the gains of his own. The deductive method proceeds from the summit to the foundation, from the unknown to the known; the inductive, from the foundation to the summit, from the known to the unknown. The mind dealing with individual things, and seeking to know them^ has no choice but to subject them to mental analysis. Every individual thing is an aggregate of elements, which can only be known by disintegration of the compound. Nature presents us with no element whatever alone and simple. The Elementary method, therefore, which requires the learner to perform this disintegration, is analytic. In other words, as resting on observation and experiment, it is the method of investi- gation. The Scientific method, on the other hand, is synthetic, It performs the analysis for the learner, and hands over to him the results. It directs him to re-construct some- thing, the form of which he has not seen, and tells him at every moment where and how he is to place the ma- terials. He does not necessarily know what he is con- ELEMENTARY VS. SCIENTIFIC METHOD. 249 striicting until the complete form is before him. He satisfies the demands of the method, if he obeys the di- rections given him. He is not required to observe and experiment — i. iterature, prepared for class drill and private study by Mary F. Hkndkick, teacher in tlie State Normal School, Cortland, N. Y. 16ino. boards, pa'^es lOJ, interleaved. 35 cents. This edition is especially prepared for taking notes in tlie literature class, and may be used in connection with any text-boolc or under any instruction. '4. Early English Literature, from the Lay of Beowulf to Edmund Spenser. By \Vm. B. Harlow, instructor in the High School, Syracuse, N. Y. 16 mo, cloth, pp. 138, Price 75 cents. This handsome volume gives copious extracts from all leading authors, of suflicient length to afford a fair taste of their style, while its biographical and critical notes give it rare value. 3. Dime Question Book No. 2, General Literature, and No. 13, American Literature, by Albert P. Southwick. 16mo, paper, pp. ^.5, 89. Price 1 1 cents each. These are among the most interesting books in the series, abounding in allusion and suggestion, as well as giving full answers to every question. They afford a capital drill, and should be used in every class as a preparation for examination, 4. How to Obtain the Greatest Value from a Book. By- the Rev. R, W. Lowrie. 8vo, pp. 12. Price io cents. No one can read this essay without pleasure and profit. 5. The Art of Questioning, By JOSHUA G. FiTCH. 16mo, paper, pp 36 13 cts. Mr. Fitch, one of Her Majesty's inspectors of schools, now recognized as. the ablest of English writers on education, owed his early reputation to this address, the practical helpfulness of which is everywhere acknowledged. 6. The Art of Securing Attention. By JOSHUA G. FiTCH. 16m o, paper, po. 43. 1.5 cts. The Manjland School Journal well says: " It is itself an exem- plifteation of the proolem discussed, for the first page fixes the attention so ihac the reader never wearies till lie comes to the last and then wishes that the end had not come so soon." C. W. BAROEEN, Pub., Syracuse, N. Y. THE SCHOOL, BULLETIN PUBLICATIONS. The Best Books for Teachers. standard, Uniform, Practical. I. Common School Law. a digest of Statute and common law as to the relations of the Teacher to the Pupil, the Parent, and the District. With 400 references to legal decisions in 21 different States. To which are added the 1400 questions given at the first seven Kew York Examinations for State Certificates. 7th thou- sand. Cloth, 12 mo, pp. 188 and Appendix. Price 50 cents. An hour to each of the seven chapters of this little hook will make the teacher master of any legal difflcnlty that may arise; while Ignorance of it puts him at the mercy of a rehellious pupil an exacting parent, or a dishonest trustee. II. Buckham's Hand-Books f<»r Young Teachers. No. 1, First Steps. Cloth, 16mo, pp 152. Price 75 cts. This manual thoroughly and completely covers a ground not yet trodden. It is simple, it is practical, it is suggestive, it is wonder- fully minute in detail; in short, it anticipates all the difficulties likely to be encountered, and gives the beginner the counsel of an older friend. III. DeGratf's School Room Guide, embodying the instruc- tion given by the author at Teachers' Institutes in New York and other States, and especially intended to assist Public School Teachers in the practical work of the school -room. Teidh edition with many additions and corrections. Cloth, 12mo, pp. 449. .^1.50 This book bears the same relation to modern teaching that Page's Theory and Practice bore to the teaching of thirty years ago. It is in every way a Complete Manual, invaluable and indispensable. IV. Primary Helps. Being No. 1 of a new series of Kinder- garten Manuals: hy W. N. Hnilmann, A. M., editor of The Kind- ergarten Mes!i. Pai)er, l2mo, pp. 192. Each 30 Practical AVork in the School Room, by three New York teachers. Part I. The Human Body. Cloth, 12mo, pp. 139 75 Payne (Joseph.) Lectures on the Art of Education, with other lectures and essays. Svo, pp. 384 ... 2 00 Payne (W. H.) A Short History of Education. Being a reprint of the article Education from the 9th edition of the Encyclopgedia Britannica. With an introduction, bibliography, notes, and references. Cloth, 16mo, pp. 105 60 Periodicals. The School Bidletin and New York State EducationalJournaL Established 1874. Monthly. 16 pp., 10x14. Per year 100 Bound Vols. I-IX. Cloth, 200 pp., each 2 00 — The School Room. A Monthly Journal of Practical Help to Young Teachers. 16pp., 7x11. Per year 50 % mes. I, II, cloth, pp. 222. Each 1 &i» [>). Song Life. Illustrated. Boards, pp. 176 w ,) Chart of Civil Government. Cloth 2o sheets 12x18, per hundred o (^ :hing Orthoepy. Paper, 12ino, pp. 15 10 l]s>iays on Educational Reformers. 12ino,-pi)., 331 ^ WJ ination Paper. ., per ream of 480 half-sheets ^ ^^ \ and nu(nbered, for Spelling 2 60 : for the Preliminary Examination of 37 pupils 2 oo :, but all printed 2 ^ ;d, for Advanced Examinations only ^ ^^ . without printing 1 "^ tions. Eleven Editions. vith Key. The Kfegents' Questions from the first examina- co June 1882, when publication ceased. Being the Questions ininary examinations for admission to the University of the . !W York, prepared by the Regents of the University, and in simultaneously by more tlian 250 academies, forming a i distribution of more than million of dollars. Cloth, l6mo, 2 00 Thesameas'the abovei but wi't^^^ the answers. Cloth, ) _ 100 ■;', Key 'to A riihmeiic', 'Geography, 'Key'to Geography, Gram- Giamtnar, and Spelling. Each — •• ^ RegenUi' Questions in Arithmetic, printed on 500 slips of card- book • ••;• 100 and Key. The 2,975 questions in Grammar, with complete ferences. Cloth, 16mo, pp. 198 1 00 B. W.) Learning and Health. Paper 16mo, pp. 39 15 A Work in Number. Cloth, 12mo, pp. 160 »o Thesaurus of English Words. Cloth, 12mo. pp. 800...... 2 00 e Sanford.) Half a Hundred Songs. Boards, 12mo, pp. 103. 85 School Record, (18x23),112 blanks. Each set of Seven..... 50 t.) The Word Method in Number. A system of teaching erical Combinations. Per box of 45 cards, printed on both j ' 'The 'Normal Question 'Book! ' Cloth! * 'i2mo, pp. 405. .. . ... . 1 50 Blackboard Slating. Dustless, Distinct, Durable. In tin for use, vering 75 feet, one coat i °" 150 " " 2 75 " 600 •« «♦ 10 00 '.per, per square yard :••• ^ L. P.) Dime Question Books, with full answers, notes, queries,, ..«..••••••••••• •" num School Seriu, r< d Practice. ^ry and Civil GoTernmentt Literature, hy and Etymology. .nd Political Geography, .nd Punctuation Advanced Striet, 1. Piiysics. 5. General L-iteratuv* 6. General History, 7. Astronomy 8. Mythology, 9. Rtetoric, 11. Botany, 12. Zoology. 16. Chemistry. - n. Geologv. M.ENTAKY QUESTION BOOK, including in one volume the on Books of the Common School Series, as above. Cloth, 7.. , 1 60 NCEDQifEstiONBOOkVinciii'dingin one volume the Ten oks of the Advanced Series, as above. Cloth, 16mo, pp. 366. 1 60 . Quirks and Quibbles from Queer Quarters 16mo, pp. 25. . . . 25 H.) Practical Aspects of Industrial Ed. Paper, Svo, pp. 12. 16 Recent Critici-ims on our Public Schools. Paper, Svo. pp. 11. 15 1.) The Diadem of Scliool Songs, containing songs and grades of schools, a new svstem of instruction in the jsic, and a manual of directions for the use of teachers. to, boards pp.160 50 M.) Systematic Plant Record. Manilla, 7x8^. pp. 52 . . . 80 lis list will be sent by mail on receipt of price. Send tw« -cte illustrated Catalogue. Address, C. W. BAEDEEN, Sykacuse, N. Y. LIBRARY OF CpNGRESS 019 792 469 A ^^