Part 42

[139] All this is very crude, and so is the artifice by which Julie in the _Nouvelle Héloïse_ entraps her son into learning to read. No doubt Rousseau is right when he says that where there is a desire to read the power is sure to come. But “reading” is one thing in the lives of the labouring classes to whom it means reading aloud in school, and quite another in families of literary tastes and habits with whom the range of thought is in a great measure dependent on books. In such families the children learn to read as surely as they learn to talk. They mostly have access to books which they read to themselves for pleasure; and of course it is absurdly untrue to say that they learn nothing but words and do not think. In my opinion it may be questioned whether the world of fiction into which their reading gives them the _entrée_ does not withdraw them too much from the actual world in which they live. The elders find it very convenient when the child can always be depended on to amuse himself with a book; but noise and motion contribute more to health of body and perhaps of mind also. While children of well-to-do parents often read too much, the children of our schools “under government” hardly get a notion what reading is. In these schools “reading” always stands for vocal reading, and the power and the habit of using books for pleasure or for knowledge (other than verbal) are little cultivated.

[140] “Il veut tout toucher, tout manier; ne vous opposez point à cette inquiétude; elle lui suggère un apprentissage très-nécessaire. C’est ainsi qu’il apprend à sentir la chaleur, le froid, la dureté, la mollesse, la pesanteur, la légèreté des corps; à juger de leur grandeur, de leur figure et de toutes leurs qualités sensibles, en regardant, palpant, écoutant, surtout en comparant la vue au toucher, en estimant à l’œil la sensation qu’ils feraient sous ses doigts.” _Ém._ j., 43.

[141] “Voyez un chat entrer pour la première fois dans une chambre: il visite, il regarde, il flaire, il ne reste pas un moment en repos, il ne se fie à rien qu’après avoir tout examiné, tout connu. Ainsi fait un enfant commençant à marcher, et entrant pour ainsi dire dans l’espace du monde. Toute la différence est qu’à la vue, commune à l’enfant et au chat, le premier joint, pour observer, les mains que lui donna la nature, et l’autre l’odorat subtil dont elle l’a doué. Cette disposition, bien ou mal cultivée, est ce qui rend les enfants adroits ou lourds, pesants ou dispos, étourdis ou prudents. Les premiers mouvements naturels de l’homme étant donc de se mesurer avec tout ce qui l’environne, et d’éprouver dans chaque objet qu’il aperçoit toutes les qualités sensibles qui peuvent se rapporter à lui, sa première étude est une sorte de physique expérimentale relative à sa propre conservation, et dont on le détourne par des études spéculatives avant qu’il ait reconnu sa place ici-bas. Tandis que ses organes délicats et flexibles peuvent s’ajuster aux corps sur lesquels ils doivent agir, tandis que ses sens encore purs sont exempts d’illusion, c’est le temps d’exercer les uns et les autres aux fonctions qui leur sont propres; c’est le temps d’apprendre à connaître les rapports sensibles que les choses ont avec nous. Comme tout ce qui entre dans l’entendement humain y vient par les sens, la première raison de l’homme est une raison sensitive; c’elle qui sert de base à la raison intellectuelle: nos premiers maîtres de philosophie sont nos pieds, nos mains, nos yeux. Substituer des livres à tout cela, ce n’est pas nous apprendre à raisonner, c’est nous apprendre à nous servir de la raison d’autrui; c’est nous apprendre à beaucoup croire, et à ne jamais rien savoir. Pour exercer un art, il faut commencer par s’en procurer les instruments; et, pour pouvoir employer utilement ces instruments, il faut les faire assez solides pour résister à leur usage. Pour apprendre à penser, il faut donc exercer nos membres, nos sens, nos organes, qui sont les instruments de notre intelligence; et pour tirer tout le parti possible de ces instruments, il faut que le corps, qui les fournit, soit robuste et sain. Ainsi, loin que la véritable raison de l’homme se forme indépendamment du corps, c’est la bonne constitution du corps qui rend les opérations de l’esprit faciles et sûres.” _Ém._ ij., 123.

[142] “Exercer les sens n’est pas seulement en faire usage, c’est apprendre à bien juger par eux, c’est apprendre, pour ainsi dire, à sentir; car nous ne savons ni toucher, ni voir, ni entendre, que comme nous avons appris. Il y a un exercice purement naturel et mécanique, qui sert à rendre le corps robuste sans donner aucune prise au jugement: nager, courir, sauter, fouetter un sabot, lancer des pierres; tout cela est fort bien: mais n’avons-nous que des bras et des jambes? n’avons-nous pas aussi des yeux, des oreilles? et ces organes sont-ils superflus à l’usage des premiers? N’exercez donc pas seulement les forces, exercez tous les sens qui les dirigent; tirez de chacun d’eux tout le parti possible, puis vérifiez l’impression de l’un par l’autre. Mesurez, comptez, pesez, comparez.” _Ém._ ij., 133.

[143] _E.g._—What can be better than this about family life? “L’attrait de la vie domestique est le meilleur contrepoison des mauvaises mœurs. Le tracas des enfants qu’on croit importun devient agréable; il rend le père et la mère plus nécessaires, plus chers l’un à l’autre; il resserre entre eux le lien conjugal. Quand la famille est vivante et animée, les soins domestiques font la plus chère occupation de la femme et le plus doux amusement du mari. Ainsi de ce seul abus corrigé résulterait bientôt une réforme générale; bientôt la nature aurait repris tous ses droits. Qu’une fois les femmes redeviennent mères bientôt les hommes redeviendront pères et maris.” _Ém._ j., 17. Again he says in a letter quoted by Saint-Marc Girardin (ij., 121)—“L’habitude la plus douce qui puisse exister est celle de la vie domestique qui nous tient plus près de nous qu’aucune autre.” We may say of Rousseau what Émile says of the Corsair:—“Il savait à fond toute la morale; il n’y avait que la pratique qui lui manquât.” (_Ém. et S._ 636). And yet he himself testifies:—“Nurses and mothers become attached to children by the cares they devote to them; it is the exercise of the social virtues that carries the love of humanity to the bottom of our hearts; it is in doing good that one becomes good; I know no experience more certain than this: Les nourrices, les mères, s’attachent aux enfants par les soins qu’elles leur rendent; l’exercice des vertus sociales porte au fond des cœurs l’amour de l’humanité; c’est en faisant le bien qu’on devient bon; je ne connais point de pratique plus sure.” _Ém._ iv., 291.

[144] Elsewhere he asserts in his fitful way that there is inborn in the heart of man a feeling of what is just and unjust. Again, after all his praise of negation he contradicts himself, and says: “I do not suppose that he who does not need anything can love anything; and I do not suppose that he who does not love anything can be happy: Je ne conçois pas que celui qui n’a besoin de rien puisse aimer quelque chose; je ne conçois pas que celui qui n’aime rien puisse être heureux.” _Ém._ iv., 252.

[145] This part of Rousseau’s scheme is well discussed by Saint-Marc Girardin (_J. J. Rousseau_, vol. ij.). The following passage is striking: “How is it that Madame Necker-Saussure understood the child better than Rousseau did? She saw in the child two things, a creation and a ground-plan, something finished and something begun, a perfection which prepares the way for another perfection, a child and a man. God, Who has put together human life in several pieces, has willed, it is true, that all these pieces should be related to each other; but He has also willed that each of them should be complete in itself, so that every stage of life has what it needs as the object of that period, and also what it needs to bring in the period that comes next. Wonderful union of aims and means which shews itself at every step in creation! In everything there is aim and also means, everything exists for itself and also for that which lies beyond it! (Tout est but et tout est moyen; tout est absolu et tout est relatif.)” _J. J. R._, ij., 151.

[146] “Je n’aime point les explications en discours; les jeunes gens y font peu d’attention et ne les retiennent guère. Les choses! les choses! Je ne répéterai jamais assez que nous donnons trop de pouvoir aux mots: avec notre éducation babillarde nous ne faisons que des babillards.” _Ém._ iij., 198.

[147] “Forcé d’apprendre de lui-même, il use de sa raison et non de celle d’autrui; car, pour ne rien donner à l’opinion, il ne faut rien donner à l’autorité; et la plupart de nos erreurs nous viennent bien moins de nous que des autres. De cet exercice continuel il doit résulter une vigueur d’esprit semblable à celle qu’on donne au corps par le travail et par la fatigue. Un autre avantage est qu’on n’avance qu’à proportion de ses forces. L’esprit, non plus que le corps, ne porte que ce qu’il peut porter. Quand l’entendement s’approprie les choses avant de les déposer dans la mémoire, ce qu’il en tire ensuite est à lui: au lieu qu’en surchargeant la mémoire, à son insu, on s’expose à n’en jamais rien tirer qui lui soit propre.” _Ém._ iij., 235.

[148] “Sans contredit on prend des notions bien plus claires et bien plus sûres des choses qu’on apprend ainsi de soi-même, que de celles qu’on tient des enseignements d’autrui; et, outre qu’on n’accoutume point sa raison à se soumettre servilement à l’autorité, l’on se rend plus ingénieux à trouver des rapports, à lier des idées, à inventer des instruments, que quand, adoptant tout cela tel qu’on nous le donne, nous laissons affaisser notre esprit dans la nonchalance, comme le corps d’un homme qui, toujours habillé, chaussé, servi par ses gens et traîné par ses chevaux, perd à la fin la force et l’usage de ses membres. Boileau se vantait d’avoir appris à Racine à rimer difficilement. Parmi tant d’admirables méthodes pour abréger l’étude des sciences, nous aurions grand besoin que quelqu’un nous en donnât une pour les apprendre avec effort.” _Ém._ iij., 193.

[149] I avail myself of the old substantival use of the word _elementary_ to express its German equivalent _Elementarbuch_.

[150] “Who has not met with some experience such as _this_? A child with an active and inquiring mind accustomed to chatter about everything that interests him is sent to school. In a few weeks his vivacity is extinguished, his abundance of talk has dried up. If you ask him about his studies, if you desire him to give you a specimen of what he has learnt, he repeals to you in a sing-song voice some rule for the formation of tenses or some recipe for spelling words. Such are the results of the teaching which should be of all teaching the most fruitful and the most attractive!” Translated from _Quelques Mots_, &c., by M. Bréal.

[151] In these visits he observed how the children suffered from working in factories. These observations influenced him in after years.

[152] In these aphorisms Pestalozzi states the main principles at work in his own mind; but this bare statement is not well suited to communicate these principles to the minds of others. For most readers the aphorisms have as little attraction as the enunciations, say, of a book of Euclid would have for those who knew no geometry. But as his future life was guided by the principles he has formulated in this paper it seems necessary for us to bear some of these in mind.

What he mainly insists upon is that all wise guidance must proceed from a knowledge of the nature of the creature to be guided; further that there is a simple wisdom which must direct the course of all men. “The path of Nature,” says he, “which brings out the powers of men must be open and plain; and human education to true peace-giving wisdom must be simple and available for all. Nature brings out all men’s powers by practice, and their increase springs from _use_.” The powers of children should be strengthened by exercise on what is close at hand; and this should be done without hardness or pressure. A forced and rigid sequence in instruction is not Nature’s method, says he: this would make men one-sided, and truth would not penetrate freely and softly into their whole being. The pure feeling for truth grows in a small area; and human wisdom must be grounded on a perception of our closest relationships, and must show itself in skilled management of our nearest concerns. Everything we do against our consciousness of right weakens our perception of truth and disturbs the purity of our fundamental conceptions and experiences. On this account all wisdom of man rests in the strength of a good heart that follows after truth, and all the blessing of man in the sense of simplicity and innocence. Peace of mind must be the outcome of right training. To get out of his surroundings all he needs for life and enjoyment, to be patient, painstaking, and in every difficulty trustful in the love of the Heavenly Father, this comes of a man’s true education to wisdom. Nothing concerns the human race so closely and intimately as—God. “God as Father of thy household, as source of thy blessing—God as thy Father; in this belief thou findest rest and strength and wisdom, which no violence nor the grave itself can overthrow.” Belief in God which is a part of our nature, like the sense of right and wrong and the feeling we can never quench of what is just and unjust, must be made the foundation in educating the human race. The subject of that belief is that God is the Father of men, men are the children of God. To this divine relationship Pestalozzi refers all human relationships as those of parent and child, of ruler and subject. The priest is appointed to declare the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of men.

The only text I have seen is that reprinted by Raumer (_Gesch. d. Päd._). From Otto Fischer (_Wichtigste Pädagogen_), I learn that this is the edition of 1807, which differs, at least by omission, from the original of 1780.

[153] There are now four parts, first published respectively in 1781, 1783, 1785, and 1787 (O. Fischer). The English translation in two small vols. (1825) ends with the First Part, but Miss Eva Channing has recently sought to weld the four parts into one (Boston, U.S.—D.C. Heath & Co.), and in this form the book seems to me not only very instructive but very entertaining also. Not many readers who look into it will fail to reach the end, and few are the books connected with education of which this could prudently be asserted. “All good teachers should read it with care,” says Stanley Hall in his Introduction, and if they thus read it and catch anything of the spirit of Pestalozzi both they and their pupils will have reason to rejoice.

[154] In the pages of this Journal Pestalozzi taught that it was “the domestic virtues which determine the happiness of a nation.” Again he says: “On the throne and in the cottage man has equal need of religion, and becomes the most wretched being on the earth if he forget his God.” “The child at his mother’s breast is weaker and more dependent than any creature on earth, and yet he already feels the first moral impressions of love and gratitude.” “_Morality is nothing but a result of the development of the first sentiments of love and gratitude felt by the infant._ The first development of the child’s powers should come from his participation in the work of his home; for this work is what his parents understand best, what most absorbs their attention, and what they can best teach. But even if this were not so, work undertaken to supply real needs would be just as truly the surest foundation of a good education. _To engage the attention of the child, to exercise his judgment, to raise his heart to noble sentiments, these I think the chief ends of education_: and how can these ends be reached so surely as by training the child as early as possible in the various daily duties of domestic life?” It would seem then that at this time Pestalozzi was for basing education on domestic labour and would teach the child to be useful. But it is hard to see how this principle could always be applied.

[155] One of these I have already given (_supra_ p. 292). I will give another, not as by any means one of the best, but as a fit companion to Rousseau’s “two dogs.”

“26. THE TWO COLTS.

“Two colts as like as two eggs, fell into different hands. One was bought by a peasant whose only thought was to harness it to his plough as soon as possible: this one turned out a bad horse. The other fell to the lot of a man who by looking after it well and training it carefully, made a noble steed of it, strong and mettlesome. Fathers and mothers, if your children’s faculties are not carefully trained and directed right, they will become not only useless, but hurtful; and the greater the faculties the greater the danger.”

Compare Rousseau: “Just look at those two dogs; they are of the same litter, they have been brought up and treated precisely alike, they have never been separated; and yet one of them is sharp, lively, affectionate, and very intelligent: the other is dull, lumpish, surly, and nobody could ever teach him anything. Simply a difference of temperament has produced in them a difference of character, just as a simple difference of our interior organisation produces in us a difference of mind.” _N. Héloise._ 5me P. Lettre iii.

[156] Pestalozzi was with the children at Stanz only during the first half of 1799.

[157] As Pestalozzi wrote to Gessner (_How Gertrude, &c._): “You see street-gossip is not always entirely wrong; I really could not write properly, nor read, nor reckon. But people always jump to wrong conclusions from such ‘notorious facts.’ At Stanz you saw that I could teach writing without myself being able to write properly.” He here anticipates a paradox of Jacotot’s.

[158] Years afterwards Napoleon, though he could not foresee Sedan, got a notion that after all there was _something_ in Pestalozzi; and that the aim of the system was to put the freedom and development of the individual in the place of the mechanical routine of the old schools, which tended to produce a mass of dull uniformity. With this aim, as Guimps says, Napoleon was quite out of sympathy, and whenever the subject was mentioned he would say, “The Pestalozzians are Jesuits”; thus very inaccurately expressing an accurate notion that there was more in them than could be understood at the first glance.

[159] Pestalozzi had from this country some more discerning visitors, _e.g._, J. P. Greaves, to whom Pestalozzi addressed _Letters_, which were translated and published in this country; also Dr. Mayo, who was at Yverdun with his pupils for three years from 1818 and afterwards conducted a celebrated Pestalozzian school at Cheam. Dr. Mayo in 1826 lectured on Pestalozzi’s system at the Royal Institution. Sir Jas. Kay-Shuttleworth and Mr. Tufnell also drew attention to it in the “Minutes of Council on Education.”

[160] The disciple is not above his master, and if parents and teachers are without sympathy and religious feeling the children will also be without faith and love. This cannot be urged too strongly on those who have charge of the young. But there is no test by which we can ascertain that a master has these essential qualifications. As in the Christian ministry the unfit can be shut out only by their own consciences. But let no one think to understand education if he loses sight of what Joseph Payne has called “Pestalozzi’s simple but profound discovery—the teacher must have a heart.” “Soul is kindled only by soul,” says Carlyle; “to _teach_ religion the first thing needful and also the last and only thing is finding of a man who _has_ religion. All else follows.”

[161] In 1872, a Congress in which more than 10,000 German elementary teachers were represented, petitioned the Prussian Government for “the organization of training schools in accordance with the pedagogic principles of Pestalozzi, which formerly enjoyed so much favour in Prussia and so visibly contributed to the regeneration of the country.”

[162] Did Pestalozzi make due allowance for the system of thought which every child inherits? Croom Robertson in “How we came by our Knowledge” (_Nineteenth Century_, No. 1, March, 1877), without mentioning Pestalozzi, seems to differ from him. Croom Robertson says that “Children being born into the world are born into society, and are acted on by overpowering social influences before they have any chance of being their proper selves.... The words and sentences that fall upon a child’s ear and are soon upon his lips, express not so much his subjective experience as the common experience of his kind, which becomes as it were an objective rule or measure to which his shall conform.... He does, he must, accept what he is told; and in general he is only too glad to find his own experience in accordance with it.... We use our incidental, by which I mean our natural subjective experience, mainly to decipher and verify the ready-made scheme of knowledge that is given us _en bloc_ with the words of our mother-tongue” (pp. 117, 118).

[163] One of the most interesting and most difficult problems in teaching is this:—How long should the beginner be kept to the rudiments? With young children, to whom ideas come fast, the main thing is no doubt to take care that these ideas become distinct and are made “the intellectual property” of the learners. But after a year or two children will be impatient to “get on,” and if they seem “marking time” will be bored and discouraged. Then again in some subjects the elementary parts seem clear only to those who have a conception of the whole. As Diderot says in a passage I have seen quoted from _Le Neveu de Rameau_, “Il faut être profond dans l’art ou dans la science pour en bien posséder les éléments.” “C’est le milieu et la fin qui éclaircissent les ténèbres du commencement.” The greatest “coach” in Cambridge used to “rush” his men through their subjects and then go back again for thorough learning. To be sure, the “scientific method” suitable for young men differs greatly from the “heuristic” or “method of investigation,” which is best for children. (See Joseph Payne’s Lecture on Pestalozzi.) But even with children we should bear in mind Niemeyer’s caution, “Thoroughness itself may become superficial by exaggeration; for it may keep too long to a part and in this way fail to complete and give any notion of the whole” (Quoted by O. Fischer, _Wichtigste Päd._ 213).

[164] Nearly 20 years ago (1871) appeared a paper on “Elementary National Education” in which “John Parkin, M.D.,” advocated making all our elementary schools industrial, not only for practical purposes, but still more for the sake of physical education. The paper attracted no notice at the time, but now we are beginning to see that the body is concerned in education as well as the mind, and that the mind learns through it “without book.” The application of this truth will bring about many changes.

[165] Herbart, when he visited Pestalozzi at Burgdorf, observed that though Pestalozzi’s kindness was apparent to all, he took no pains in his teaching to mix the _dulce_ with the _utile_. He never talked to the children, or joked, or gave them an anecdote. This, however, did not surprise Herbart, whose own experience had taught him that when the subject requires earnest attention the children do not like it the better for the teacher’s “fun.” “The feeling of clear apprehension,” says he, “I held to be the only genuine condiment of instruction” (Herbart’s _Päd. Schriften_, ed. by O. Willmann, j. 89).