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research worker is actuated by the impulse to grasp what is given and to receive it without the least alteration in his own mind, to convert all self-activity into the highest receptivity, to risk all spontaneity to arrive at the purest reception. The artist feels an instinctive impulse to express part of himself in objective reality; he assumes a receptive attitude towards himself, and what he receives is expressed in a spontaneous creation. The tendency to inner perfection, i. e., to education in its narrower conception, is neither so unselfish nor so energetic as the other two propensities. Its aim is to receive and assimilate, to create and enjoy. It may be spontaneously active and receptive, yet will always return to the equilibrium of itself. It deals with the outer world to become familiar with it, but not to learn its
It dwells on the mental pictures, not for the purpose of expressing them in objective realities, but with the intention of looking in the outer world for the objects corresponding to these mental pictures, and thus its aim is to make man's inner nature a complete and truthful whole.'
This tendency may be found in scholars and artists, and it is they who have given the best description of its working. Goethe has, in a wonderful study of himself, described this instinctive longing for intellectual perfection and has well distinguished it from the instinctive impulses at work in the poet and artist. Wilhelm von Humboldt speaks, not as a scientist, but as a man intent upon his intellectual perfection, when he tells us: “I can not resist the desire to see, to know, and to investigate as much as possible; it would seem as though man were after all in this world to convert all his environment into his own property, into the property of his mind. But alas! life is all too short:
: when I must depart hence, I would leave as little as possible that I had not brought into contact with myself.”
In the case of this genius the longing for intellectual development grew into an irresistible craving, whereas in the average man it proves, though not an instinctive force, yet a strong and spontaneous motive. This spontaneous desire of intellectual development is not influenced by the prospect of gain or the consciousness of duty performed. Neither is it subject to any other interest; but is in itself a powerful interest, direct and not indirect, aroused by the charm of something attainable and fostered by the joy found in mental growth. It belongs to the imponderables of education; it can not be controlled at will, but
Goethe, Winckelmann, Ausgabe letzter Hand, 37, 18.
must be nourished and cultivated intelligently. It is killed by demanding too much of the pupil; and can not assert itself if the pupil must study a subject before his curiosity has been aroused concerning it. Still the school must direct this spontaneous desire of knowledge; else it will degenerate into playing with the educational values or vacuous polymathy.
3. The instinctive impulse to learn is more familiar to us than the instinctive impulse to teach. Still, the activity of the teacher is also prompted, to some extent, by a certain rational instinct. Even the social instinct impels us to share an intellectual content with our fellowmen; and to find perfect joy in our knowledge, we must communicate it to others. Cicero reports the Pythagorean Archytas as saying that "If a man were to ascend to heaven and there see the nature of the world and the stars, he would still enjoy naught of this happiness if he had none to whom he could relate the wonders he had beheld.” And what Seneca says of himself is true of all men: "Even the best and most useful gives me no pleasure if I alone may know it. If all wisdom were offered to me upon the condition that I keep it hoarded up in my own soul and share it with no one else, I would reject it: we can not enjoy a treasure without a companion to our joy. The following verse dates from the Middle Ages, “Condita decrescit, vulgata scientia crescit.” There is, indeed, an internal relationship between the search after truth and the imparting of it to others: “Knowledge is intended by its very nature to be communicated to others: born in the solitude of the mind it seeks to be evaluated in the minds of others; every thought and every discovery tries to prove its power by coming into contact with strange thoughts and by giving birth through the new combination to new things. The desire to present itself is connatural to skill and knowledge, and often
| Cicero, De amicitia, 23.
2 Seneca also observes that he desires to teach his correspondent and that he is glad to learn for the purpose of teaching others: “Ego omnia ista in te cupio transfundere et in hoc aliquid gaudeo discere, ut doceam; nec ulla res delectat, licet sit eximia et salutaris, quam mihi uni sciturus sum; si cum hac exceptione detur sapientia, ut illam inclusam teneam nec enuntiem, rejiciam: nullius boni sine socio jucunda possessio est” (Ep. 6, $ 4). Cf. the following from modern authors: “Seldom ever was any knowledge given to keep, but to impart; the grace of this rich jewel is lost in concealment” (Bishop Hall); “The seeds of knowledge may be planted in solitude, but must be cultivated in public" (Johnson).
3 Trendelenburg, Kleine Schriften, II, p. 22.
leads to the ignoring of the secondary considerations of success, profit, and fame. Though performing before an unappreciative audience, the Theban flute player tried, nevertheless, to render his music perfectly, for he said, “Even if no one will appreciate my efforts, I shall still please myself and the Muses." A kindred prompting urges the born writer to give himself up to literary work, and fortunately for literature and the fine arts this disinterested service of the Muses goes on without end. That the writer's itch as well as the impulse to teach may be traced back to very primitive instincts, we may see from the doings of children. They delight to tell all that they heard and learned in
. school; and one of their favorite games is to play school, to be the teachers of their younger brothers and sisters. Schiller's words: “What they have themselves learned to-day, that they would teach to-morrow,” is as true of the little ones as of the scholars who, thinking they had understood Kant, were too eager and too quick to preach the new gospel from the housetops. The propaganda of scientists as well as of artists is based on the pleasure found in transmitting to others what we have received, in having others share our joy; and the pupils are generally more eager to teach than the masters themselves.
The fondness for teaching does not imply the ability to teach, but the latter depends even more than the former upon native gifts. There are born teachers whose specific talent is the donum didacticum. These men are the flower of the teaching profession; but only the flower, for “many wand-bearers, few bacchanals,” is true also of the teaching profession. An instinctive force operates in all who are teachers by the grace of God. Only in view of such an instinctive force can it be explained, why Comenius made the writing of a Latin textbook the supreme goal of his desires; why La Salle scorned wealth and high rank, leisure and pleasures, in order to realize his dream of a teaching order; or why Pestalozzi devoted a whole lifetime to the study of the ABC. An impulse of this kind may also urge the formation of the mind, the development of man's inner nature, and thus inspire Promethean activity in intellectual matters. Socrates was led by such a prompting: he believed himself called to form the souls of men; he looked for his materials in the life of his own soul as well as the souls of others, and regarded his vocation as an instinct received of
the deity, which he was bound to obey even at the risk of having to die repeatedly in the performance of his duty.'
The Indirect Interests.
1. The spontaneous impulse to learn treats the intellectual content as valuable for its own sake, and hence has a direct interest in education. One may, however, regard education merely as a means to an end; and he who regards it from this viewpoint alone, has only an indirect interest in education, being interested directly in what he wishes to obtain by means of an education. Knowledge and skill are important factors in life; knowledge is power; education is a valuable asset; and rank, position, and influence are open to the man of learning. Thus man can attain great ends by means of education, and these rewards will naturally call forth greater efforts than the desire of knowledge for its own sake. The indirect motives can be traced back to the instinct of self-preservation and to the desire natural to man to increase his influence by means of wealth, rank, and power.
The practical value of knowledge and skill has ever been one of the strongest forces in promoting the cause of education. We find that men have always evaluated education either for the aid it gives in acquiring material goods or for its social advantages. The peoples of the East pursued studies mostly for utilitarian purposes, and the Greeks regarded their materialistic trend as irreconcilable with a higher evaluation of mental work.? But the ideal conception of art and learning was not altogether unknown in the East. The Chinese have taken the narrowest view of the end of education: with them studies are but the rungs by which the individual ascends the social ladder to a higher rank. That wealth and power will of themselves come to the learned man, we see from the Book of Proverbs: “By wisdom the house shall be built, and by prudence it shall be strengthened. By instruction the store-rooms shall be filled with all precious and most beautiful wealth. A wise man is
Plato, Apol., p. 29, 30. 2 Cf. especially Plato, Legg., V, p. 747; Rep., IV, p. 436.
strong; and a knowing man, stout and valiant.”! Addison writes in the same strain, “Wisdom is better than strength. Knowledge is that which, next to virtue, truly and essentially raises one man above another.”
Among the Greeks the desire of honor was a stronger educational motive than the desire of gain, though there were instances where material profit was made the primary end of education, so that there was need of emphasizing a more ideal conception. The story told of Thales is a good illustration of Hellenic industrialism. To refute the charge made by merchants that philosophy was of no practical value, Thales bought up all the oil-presses during a year that promised, according to the forecasts of the astronomers, a rich crop of olives, and thus he amassed great wealth. Though the Romans followed the Greeks in distinguishing the artes liberales from the viles ex professo artes, quæ ad instrumenta vita plurimum conferunt," yet they made no secret of their tendency to make practical usefulness the sole standard for evaluating all studies," and the school system of the period of the Empire was organized with a view to securing the greatesi practical and social benefits. True, the liberal studies of the ancients were not intended to fit the student for any special profession. Still they represented the arts and sciences that were forces in national life, and thus their mastery brought social and material gains. The student in the school of oratory looked forward to prestige, horor, rank, wealth. In this point he resembled many a modern pupil who requires similar inducements to persevere in his studies.
In the Middle Ages the school system was more removed
1 Proverbs, XXIV, 3 ff.
. 2 Thus Diodorus, II, 29, speaks against the watà tnv èpyodaßlav Képdovs oroxacóuevo, cf. Galen, Meth. med., 1, 1, and several passages in Plato. Aristophanes savs in his Νub., 648: τί δε μ' ωφελήσουσ’ οι ρυθμοί πρός τάλφιτα.
3 Aristotle, Pol., I, 11, p. 1259; Cicero, Dir., I, 49, 111.
Seneca, Ep., 88. 5
Cicero, Tusc., 1, 1: "utilitate artis terminavimus modum;" Cicero is here speaking of mathematics, but it was held to be true of general education. Horace denounces the industrialism of the schools in his Art of Poetry, (1l. 330 ff.): “Hæc animos ærugo et cura peculi Cum semel imbuerit, speramus carmina fingi...?" Seneca says, “Study rather to fill your mind than your coffers; knowing that gold and silver were originally mingled with dirt, until avarice and ambition parted them." Calpurnius Siculus writes as an agrarian (Ed., IV, 23 ff.): “Frange, puer, calamos, et inanes desere Musas, Et potius glandes rubicundaque collige corna: Duc ad multa greges, et lac venale per urbem Non tacitus porta, etc.