and instinctive motives are related to the æsthetical tendency, i. e., the unconscious and conscious desire of education in its proper sense. The indirect and practical interests are related to the socio-ethical tendency in so far as this tendency and the indirect and practical interests are both co-ordinated with life. and society. The indirect and practical interests are co-ordinated with life and society in an egoistic sense, while the socioethical tendency regards the obligations connected with the moral gifts of life and with the communities that possess them. Hence the indirect and practical interests may, in opposition to the socio-ethical interests, be described as socio-egoistic motives. The moral and religious motives inherent in education make it a powerful force for civilization and refinement. But the specific character of education consists in the spontaneous or conscious tendency to form and inform along intellectual lines.

II.

EVALUATION OF THE AIMS OF EDUCATION.

CHAPTER VI.

The Moral Principle as the Standard.

1. The educational motives and aims, which we have examined in detail, have been effective in different degrees of strength and in different combinations in the various periods of the history of education, and many have been the opinions advanced by laymen as well as by educationists regarding their respective value. However, there is one point that may not be disputed, and hence it is the proper starting-point in evaluating the aims of education: whether the aim of education is purely practical and utilitarian, or whether the full and harmonious development of man's faculties is regarded as the goal, whether the educational aim is of this world or of the next-there is one principle that may never be questioned; viz., that the educative process must be a moral process and that it must be moral in its results; that it must make man morally better; that the increase in knowledge and skill must perfect his royal facultythe will. Progress in knowledge without a corresponding progress in moral power is no gain, but a serious loss: "Qui proficit in litteris et deficit in moribus, plus deficit quam proficit.

This moral end must be the standard for evaluating all educational aims, whether practical, æsthetical, or instinctive. The categorical imperative: thou shalt become a better man by means of learning and studies, must determine in how far we may enunciate the hypothetical imperatives: thou shalt follow thy inclinations to mental growth; thou shalt inform and form thy inner nature; thou shalt equip thyself with knowledge and skill for the needs of practical life.

The instinctive impulse to know, to learn, to imitate, to be active, is like a force of nature that must be brought under control before it will serve man. Education needs the aid of this instinctive impulse. "Amor docet musicum," says the old adage. Pliny's words, "amor magister est optimus,”i represent 1 Pliny, Ep., 4, 16.

the spontaneous interest as the chief factor in teaching. Medieval pedagogy erred in regarding the impulse to learn as vain curiosity. Still, the educative process would be degraded if it were controlled exclusively, as Rousseau's naturalism demands, by the spontaneous impulses and tastes of the pupil. The natural interest in objects and knowledge may not degenerate into playing with the values that are the products of serious human endeavor: our schools should not encourage educational gourmets; and our pupils should not be taught to regard their studies as an amusement d'esprit. On the contrary, the spontaneous element found in every impulse, even in that directed upon intellectual materials, must be controlled and ennobled by voluntary and moral aims. "What would all education amount to," asks Goethe, "if we did not control our natural impulses?"1 And he considers love the proper complement of the interest in knowledge: "Fact and fiction, presented in a thousand books, will remain but a tower of Babel unless they are connected by the bond of love." Herbart assigned to each of the two factors, viz., the instinctive impulse and the moral element, its proper place in the field of education: the instinctive impulse is to be cultivated like a fertile field that is rich in germs, roots, and seed; but the crop of the field is to be stored in the ideal centre of personality, the moral character.

But even if the maxim, "Learn and do what pleases you,' is exchanged for the other, "Learn and do what will make you agreeable to others," there will still be need of emphasizing the moral ends. The pleasant, the agreeable, the beautiful, may lead to the good, but is not itself the good. Self-conscious activity, even if ennobled, will contribute to true education only if made subservient to moral ends. The tendency to make knowledge and skill a personal property and to employ them for the expression or ornament of self, savors of egoism, and, unless it is controlled by moral aims, it produces the affectation of the æsthete. The bel esprit is, indeed, open to all that is interesting and stimulating, and also assimilates it to a certain. degree. Yet he delights more in many-sided activity than in the object of this activity, and finds more pleasure in the elasticity of his mind than in filling it with valuable and fruitful knowledge. When the cultural virtuoso turns to the creations of human genius he enjoys these less than the exercise of his

1 Conversations with Eckermann of May 2, 1824.

mental powers, and his sole aim is to discover matter for promoting his intellectual growth and to find opportunities for the display of his ability. Hence the beauty of the soul is a deceptive principle for one's inner formation and is not adapted to promote concentration and depth: the measure and harmony of the inner life must be founded on a more solid basis than is afforded by the intellectual life alone.

To oppose these false tendencies in education is the function of the moral aim. The moral aim gives us a higher and more serious view of the instruction in the arts and sciences, and leads us to recognize that the study of the sciences gives us the disciplinary training of the true, and that the study of the arts. gives us the disciplinary training of the beautiful. No intellectual effort should be confined to the service of the subjective mind, for the sciences as well as the arts represent what is objectively real, and to this the subject must adapt itself. Learning and practice discipline the mind, not only by demanding regular and systematic efforts, but also by forcing the mind to follow the lines of what is objectively true or beautiful; and thus this second effect on the operations of the subjective mind is akin to the effects of customs and the moral law on human desires and impulses. Furthermore, the devotion to the true and the beautiful is in its nature as unselfish as the moral sense, and this unselfishness counterbalances the egoistic tendency of the inner formation. Finally, if moral ends inspire the educative process, there is no opportunity for boasting of educational perfection, and that for two reasons: first, because the object in view is not a self-appointed goal, but the sum-total of the intellectual treasures of the race-of which, at best, but a part can be appropriated by the individual and, second, because man's supreme, eternal end, included in the moral aims, demands other efforts beside the intellectual work.

2. All practical aims of education imply, like the purely æsthetical tendency, egoistic motives, and it is only on moral grounds that this selfishness can be squarely met. The Greeks spurned the training for practical ends and material profit as degrading and unworthy of the free man. Christianity corrected this view by conferring a peculiar dignity on labor and by ennobling the training for the mechanical and learned professions. Still, even we are wont to speak disparagingly of purely utilitarian studies. But we find fault, not with the practical aims as such, but with the narrow mind that refuses to recognize

any other than practical ends, and that evaluates the educative process according to its returns in dollars and cents. Though we may demand that higher motives, viz., the general end of education as well as the consideration of its power for developing man's native faculties, should supersede this exclusively practical tendency, still it is only the moral end of education that can correct the fundamental mistake of narrow egoism. The maxim, "Learn what is educative for you,' may be opposed to the following, "Learn what you will use and need"; but the latter will not be superseded by the former until we recognize the third maxim, “Learn what will make you generally efficient." This general efficiency, indeed, includes any special proficiency; but while striving for it we shall not be narrow egoists who are intent on worldly success alone. The egoism of the utilitarian educationist and the egoism of the æsthete can both be corrected by applying one and the same principle: the truly useful and the truly beautiful meet in the good; the moral purpose broadens the horizon of the utilitarian, and harmonizes and unifies the diverse aims of the æsthete.

But the egoism of ambition, the striving for honor, must be controlled even more by the moral purpose, else it will undo the work of the educator. It is comparatively easy to arouse the pupils' ambition. In their eyes, school honors are more concrete than any future usefulness of the knowledge to be acquired. They will readily appreciate the honor of the first place in their class, or of a high mark in their oral or written task: it is something whose value is seen in the present and not merely to be hoped for in the distant future. In this matter they may even be encouraged by their teacher, for there is no school teacher but is tempted to appeal to the ambition of his pupils, because for arousing their best energies this method is more refined than corporal punishment and superior, too, in its results. The rod will, at best, prove only a cure for sloth, but not a stimulus for enthusiasm. However, from the moral viewpoint it is superficial to measure the efficiency of any pupil by his superiority over his classmates, and to measure his application by his success in outstripping his fellows. True, the naturalism of ancient ethics never went beyond this view, and the extensive study of the ancient classics has somewhat infected our modern teachers with a false evaluation of honor. Moreover, many educationists -and not only such as are admirers of ancient education, but also certain educational leaders of the Enlightenment-approve