Outlines of Educational Doctrine

by Johann Friedrich Herbart

The teacher who, by skilful repetition, does justice to these multiform associations, is not always the one who shows most skill in systematic presentation, and who knows best how to make prominent the main thoughts, and to link to them those that are subordinate.

[122.] The impulse to repeat must, as a rule, come from points with which pupils are familiar. It is further requisite that the teacher, in conducting the repetition, adapt himself to their train of thought; he must not adhere strictly to an inflexible plan. The necessary corrections require delay here and there; the corrected statements often constitute new points from which to take bearings. At times the pupils themselves should feel free to indicate which topics it seems most necessary to repeat. By so doing they assume a certain responsibility as to the rest, and are made to realize all the more their obligation to make up deficiencies.

[123.] The correction of written work likewise falls under the head of analytic instruction, but the toil exceeds the profit if written work is demanded too early. While writing the pupil consolidates his ideas. Now if he does so incorrectly, the effect is mischievous, his mistakes cling to him. Moreover, the teacher has to be on his guard lest, while orally correcting and reading over the composition, he overestimate the pupil’s attention. When many slips occur, when a whole forest of mistakes is found to have sprung up, the pupil becomes indifferent to them all; they make humble, but they also dishearten. Such tasks should, therefore, be very brief, if the pupil is weak; nay, it is preferable to have none at all, as long as progress is being made more surely by a different kind of exercises.

The teacher who assigns home work with a view to saving labor in school miscalculates utterly; his work will soon have become all the harder.

To many it seems that the exercises they assign should be very easy, rather than short; and to make them easy, outlines, turns of expression, everything, is indicated as definitely as possible. This is a delusion. If composition has any purpose, it consists in making the pupil try to see what he can do without the teacher. Now if the pupil actually gets started on the exercise, the teacher ought not to step in his way with all sorts of prescriptions. If the pupil fails to make headway, the attempt was premature. We must either wait or else shorten the task, no matter if it should shrink to no more than three lines. Three lines of the pupil’s own work are better than three pages written by direction. It may take years before the self-deception due to leading-string methods is superseded by a true estimate of the pupil’s actual power.

[124.] The case is quite different if, before writing, the pupil has been assisted orally in developing his thoughts. This kind of analysis is of special importance in later boyhood; but the teacher should see to it that the pupil gives free expression to his own opinion. If he does, a theme has been furnished for discussion during which the teacher will avoid harsh dissent in proportion to his eagerness to accomplish something with his pupil. To rebuke presuming boldness or impudence is a different matter, of course.

Self-chosen themes are preferable by far to those that are assigned, only they cannot be expected of the majority of pupils. But when they do turn up, the character of the choice alone, but still more the execution, will throw light on the opinions current among the pupils, and on the impressions which not only the school, but experience and society as well, have been constantly at work to produce. The writer’s individuality reveals itself even more distinctly. Every teacher must be prepared to come upon these individual traits, however much he might prefer to have his pupils reflect himself. It would be futile if he attempted to correct their essays by interpolating his own view; he would not by that means make the latter their own. The mode of treatment can be corrected; but other opportunities will have to serve for the rectification of opinions—provided this can ever be undertaken successfully.

[125.] With regard to synthetic instruction, we assume at the outset that it will be supported during the whole course of training by the merely presentative and the analytic methods of teaching, wherever these are in place. Otherwise the ultimate result will always remain problematical, particularly the union of learning and life.

Synthetic instruction brings in much that is new and strange; and we must take advantage of the universal charm of novelty. It must coöperate with acquired habits of application, and with the interest peculiar to each subject taught. The affairs, not of Italy alone, but also those of Greece and the Orient, have become a matter of everyday discussion. There has been a general diffusion of knowledge about the facts and laws of nature. Hence even younger children cannot help but pick up many things now that will tend to forestall the indifference or aversion with which school studies were regarded not longer than fifty years ago. They seemed to be something foreign to life. At present, it cannot prove difficult to turn curiosity in the direction of distant lands, and of past ages even, especially where collections of rare articles and antiquities are accessible. This stimulation would not persist long, however, in the face of the labor of learning, if there did not exist at the same time a widespread conviction of the necessity of study, a conviction reinforced by the legal requirements of schools, particularly of the gymnasia. Accordingly, families exert a good influence with respect to the industry of children; and with the right sort of government and training in school, willingness to learn is easily secured. Less easy is it to incite a genuinely scientific desire to know, one that will endure beyond examinations. This brings us back to many-sidedness of interest ([83]–[94]). If interest were not already the end of instruction, we should have to look upon it as the only means whereby the results of teaching can be given permanence.

Interest depends partly, it is true, on native capacity, which the school cannot create; but it depends also on the subject-matter of instruction.