order to have them more completely under my own observation, and when needful to give them an occasional admonition."

It was always, however, an ungrateful task for the gymnasium rectors of that time to instruct their noble scholars after the model of the French aristocracy. The purpose of the system of education, the method, the organization, and the character of the teachers of the gymnasium were all opposed to it. From the troubles arising from these sources came the practice of founding special institutions for noble youth, such as the Pædagogium at Halle, the Knights' Academy at Liegnitz, &c.

Thus we see that the schools of literature, in the century after the peace of Westphalia, assumed a character very much varied from that of those of the sixteenth century. We see that the Latin lost its place as a second mother-tongue, and that the German took its rightful one as the native and honored language; but that, in consequence of the disgusting influence of France upon our country, the French language and French education ruled our higher ranks with an unholy spell.

How deeply soever these influences had already changed the idea of the character of our literary schools, still other causes were at work to the same end.

"For a long time," writes Rector Wenzky of Prenzlau, in 1746,* "the old methods of teaching have been discontinued in most places, and others have been adopted more in accordance with the times. The object now is, though it is pursued in various ways, to instruct scholars who may be able to serve the state best in the present emergency. The times change, and the school-teachers must vary .with them." We have already seen how unfortunately the times had varied. Wenzky sought especially the introduction of a multitude of new studies, and names, besides the already mentioned instruction in the mother-tongue, genealogy, heraldry, geometry, military and civil architecture, astronomy, dialing, botany, theoretical and practical philosophy, &c., &c. "I teach," he says, "how to judge of books; and show how to compose, write, examine, complete, and correct the proof of a book." "I dissuade scholars from prejudices as from irreconcilable enemies." "If one should tell me these 'subjects are too many, and the chief object, the learning of language, must be obstructed thereby;' I answer, these subjects are nevertheless all useful, and are such that the scholar must have some knowledge of all of them. Why are the arts and sciences so many?" In this strange error we see a picture of the theory of pedagogical development, of the second half of the eighteenth century, and which has

* L. c, 32.

existed down to our own times. These exercises may be described in two words real subjects, and exercises of the understanding. We shall hereafter become sufficiently acquainted with both of them; but their real objects remined us but little of the profound views of Bacon and Comenius.

There appeared also a third element which has been named pietism, which originated with August Hermann Francké and his school. Before I speak of this school, I must discuss the pedagogy of a man who is to be considered a follower of Montaigne and Bacon, and as a predecessor of Rousseau; the pedagogy of the Englishman Locke.

[Translated for this Journal, from the German of Karl von Raumer.]

PROF. RAUMER introduces the third volume of his "History of Pedagogy" with the following remarks :—

In this third volume, I am far from wishing to put forth a system of pedagogy. I have been deeply impressed by some strong expressions of the great Bacon, against systematizers.

"The wonder of men at learning and at the arts," he says, "has been made to increase by the cunning and technical arts of those who, having studied the sciences, gave out that they were perfect in them and had brought them to completion. For when men turn their attention to systems and subdivisions, these systems seem to them to include every thing, and to contain within themselves all matter which relates to the subject. And though such system may be ill filled out, or as it were empty, still they impose upon the common understanding by the form and fashion of a perfect science. The first and oldest investigators of truth, however, with more faithfulness and good fortune, bestowed the knowledge which they had received from the observation of things, and wished to preserve for use, in the form of aphorisms, or short separate thoughts, not knit together in any method; and thus they did not feign and pretend to set forth the whole of their

art."

So far Bacon. As I abide by his doctrine, and therefore do not pretend to set forth the whole extent of my subject, the reader will find, instead of a system of pedagogy, mostly descriptions of single pedagogical subjects. These, moreover, are not treated at all after any one plan. Sometimes the presentation is of a historical kind; sometimes I have considered rather the present time. Sometimes the theoretical side is most prominent, and sometimes the practical. In this I was influenced by the various characters of my subjects, by my greater or less knowledge of them, and by the mode in which they had appeared to me in learning and teaching; in short, by my own experience of them. If I had undertaken to discuss all these subjects in one and the same way, the work would have been done in a colorless, monotonous manner; and such a method would evidently have been very closely connected with the evolution of a system.

The reader here receives the first division of the third part. In the second division will be treated instruction in the subjects omitted in the first. As a conclusion of the whole work, I have thought of giving a comprehensive view of the present condition of pedagogy; and am even desirous of endeavoring to portray truly and impartially the most eminent of living teachers.

I know well how difficult is this task, and how much self-denial it implies. Perhaps an author who has entered his sixty-fifth year is better fitted for such a task than younger men, who yet are "vigorous in love and hate." It is more easy for one near the end of his life to speak of the present as if it already lay far behind him, as it soon will.

Erlangen, June 1st, 1847.

KARL VON RAUMER.

We shall continue our translations from this volume until we have completed them, by the reproduction of the whole of Prof. Raumer's great work in the English language.

INTRODUCTION.

THE EARLIEST CHILDHOOD.

"Speak, that I may see thee," said a Greek.

Accordingly, the child being unable to speak, comes into the world, as it were, invisible; and long preserves the deepest incognito. All the care of the parents is bestowed upon the little helpless body; physical education is the main object. This was the case with the Greeks and Romans. The Spartans used a rude method of alleviating the task, by passing a sentence upon the new-born child, of life if its body seemed healthy, of death if not. Rousseau's doctrine was little better. "I could not trouble myself," he says, "about a sickly child, if it were to live to be eighty years old. I can not be concerned about any pupil who is a burden to himself and to those who have the care of him."

To give all the honor to the body is a coarse and brutal estimate of man. Such barbarians would not have thought worth preserving the life of Kepler, the great German astronomer, who came into the world a sickly seven months' child.

Rousseau, in his teachings as to physical education, has kept in view, as his ideal, a completely healthy North American savage; a rule which will not serve for us domesticated Europeans. But one extreme introduces another; there prevailed, for great part of the eighteenth century, especially in France, a frivolous, unnatural method even in the education of small children. We have already become acquainted with these unnatural ways: the frizzle-wigged boys, with laced coats, and swords at their sides; and the little frizzle-headed girls, with their great hoop-petticoats. By their contests against these evils, Rousseau in France and his followers in Germany, as advocates of natural principles, did great service to the cause of physical education. The extreme views which they held, as happens at every reaction, disappeared with time, and the real good remained.

To refer once more to a few points. Rousseau admonished mothers of their maternal duties, in striking terms. It is not nurses, but they themselves, who are destined to bring up their children. If they would have their children love them, they must wait upon them with efficient maternal love.* He zealously combated the abominable custom of swaddling children, as a child so swathed up can not exercise any of its limbs; and recommended cool bathing, fresh air, simple diet, and a costume permitting the freest exercise of the body. However correct these views are in the main, it would not, as has already been said, be advisable to follow Rousseau absolutely. He is

* Gellius had already (12, 1,) laid down the same principles; as had Ernesti after him.

no physician-he even hates physicians; proceeds recklessly, and often blindly, after his Huron ideal; and is determined, either by bending or breaking, to harden the French children.*

The little work of the able physician, Hufeland, on the contrary, his "Good Advice to Mothers, on the Physical Education of their Children," is highly to be recommended. Intelligent mothers may safely follow his advice, particularly as to diet, where so many go astray. According to Hufeland, coffee and tea are altogether unnecessary to children; he prohibits the usual overwhelming of children in thick, soft feather-beds, and their sleeping in heated, unventilated rooms; recommending, instead, the utmost cleanliness, and especially what he calls air and water-baths.

Children do not give information; we do not see into the quiet and hidden secrets of their existence. In instruction, the most helpless scholar will receive the most assistance from the intelligent teacher. But we often have to stand in doubt and irresolution by the cradle, and to recommend our child to the care of its angel in heaven. I have known farmers' wives, who permitted their children to play in the street, without any care. And if any one drew their attention to the danger, they would say, "My child is not three years old yetthe angels take care of those." Their idea, probably, was that after the third year, when the child is more active and intelligent, it can take care of itself.

But, although the inner life of the child is a secret to us, we may be confident that its mind is no vacant space, but a place consecrated by baptism, in which are slumbering the seeds of divine gifts, which shall develop with advancing years. But let it not be imagined that the mother can do nothing for the child in the first years of its life, except in the mere matter of physical care. Is the heartfelt love which inspires this care nothing? Who knows whether it is not this love which implants the first seeds of the answering love in the child's heart? Shall, then, the dependence of little children upon their mother be only animal and selfish? Who can tell how much influence the beautiful cradle-songs of the mother have upon the child? And, above all, we believe that the intercession of the parents brings a blessing.

With the acquisition of speech, begins a new course of life for the child; and it comes out of its mysterious isolation. Learning to speak is connected with learning to walk; and these two compre

For instance, Rousseau rejects Locke's admonition never to permit a child, when heated, to lie down on damp ground, or to drink cold drink.

↑ First, to creep. This strengthens both arms and legs. A child who learns to creep well will, as he begins to go upright, and often falls down in trying, usually come down on his hands and arms, which he has learned to use. Children who have not crept fall more awk