(SCHOPENHAUER) ON EDUCATION.
E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, and the Project
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
Translate by: T. Bailey Saunders
The human intellect is said to be so constituted that general ideas arise
by abstraction from particular observations, and therefore come after
them in point of time. If this is what actually occurs, as happens in the case
of a man who has to depend solely upon his own experience for what he
learns--who has no teacher and no book,--such a man knows quite well which of
his particular observations belong to and are represented by each of his general
ideas. He has a perfect acquaintance with both sides of his experience, and
accordingly, he treats everything that comes in his way from a right standpoint.
This might be called the natural method of education.
Contrarily, the artificial method is to hear what other people say, to
learn and to read, and so to get your head crammed full of general ideas before
you have any sort of extended acquaintance with the world as it is, and as you
may see it for yourself. You will be told that the particular observations which
go to make these general ideas will come to you later on in the course of
experience; but until that time arrives, you apply your general ideas wrongly,
you judge men and things from a wrong standpoint, you see them in a wrong light,
and treat them in a wrong way. So it is that education perverts the mind.
This explains why it so frequently happens that, after a long course of learning
and reading, we enter upon the world in our youth, partly with an artless
ignorance of things, partly with wrong notions about them; so that our demeanor
savors at one moment of a nervous anxiety, at another of a mistaken confidence.
The reason of this is simply that our head is full of general ideas which we are
now trying to turn to some use, but which we hardly ever apply rightly. This is
the result of acting in direct opposition to the natural development of the mind
by obtaining general ideas first, and particular observations last: it is
putting the cart before the horse. Instead of developing the child's own
faculties of discernment, and teaching it to judge and think for itself, the
teacher uses all his energies to stuff its head full of the ready-made thoughts
of other people. The mistaken views of life, which spring from a false
application of general ideas, have afterwards to be corrected by long years of
experience; and it is seldom that they are wholly corrected. This is why so few
men of learning are possessed of common-sense, such as is often to be met
with in people who have had no instruction at all.
To acquire a knowledge of the world might be defined as the aim of all
education; and it follows from what I have said that special stress should be
laid upon beginning to acquire this knowledge at the right end. As I have
shown, this means, in the main, that the particular observation of a thing shall
precede the general idea of it; further, that narrow and circumscribed ideas
shall come before ideas of a wide range. It means, therefore, that the whole
system of education shall follow in the steps that must have been taken by the
ideas themselves in the course of their formation. But whenever any of these
steps are skipped or left out, the instruction is defective, and the ideas
obtained are false; and finally, a distorted view of the world arises, peculiar
to the individual himself--a view such as almost everyone entertains for some
time, and most men for as long as they live. No one can look into his own mind
without seeing that it was only after reaching a very mature age, and in some
cases when he least expected it, that he came to a right understanding or a
clear view of many matters in his life, that, after all, were not very difficult
or complicated. Up till then, they were points in his knowledge of the world
which were still obscure, due to his having skipped some particular lesson in
those early days of his education, whatever it may have been like--whether
artificial and conventional, or of that natural kind which is based upon
individual experience.
It follows that an attempt should be made to find out the strictly natural
course of knowledge, so that education may proceed methodically by keeping to
it; and that children may become acquainted with the ways of the world, without
getting wrong ideas into their heads, which very often cannot be got out again.
If this plan were adopted, special care would have to be taken to prevent
children from using words without clearly understanding their meaning and
application. The fatal tendency to be satisfied with words instead of trying to
understand things--to learn phrases by heart, so that they may prove a refuge in
time of need, exists, as a rule, even in children; and the tendency lasts on
into manhood, making the knowledge of many learned persons to consist in mere
verbiage.
However, the main endeavor must always be to let particular observations precede
general ideas, and not vice versa, as is usually and unfortunately the
case; as though a child should come
feet foremost into the world, or a verse be begun by writing down the rhyme! The
ordinary method is to imprint ideas and opinions, in the strict sense of the
word, prejudices, on the mind of the child, before it has had any but a
very few particular observations. It is thus that he afterwards comes to view
the world and gather experience through the medium of those ready-made ideas,
rather than to let his ideas be formed for him out of his own experience of
life, as they ought to be.
A man sees a great many things when he looks at the world for himself, and he
sees them from many sides; but this method of learning is not nearly so short or
so quick as the method which employs abstract ideas and makes hasty
generalizations about everything. Experience, therefore, will be a long time in
correcting preconceived ideas, or perhaps never bring its task to an end; for
wherever a man finds that the aspect of things seems to contradict the general
ideas he has formed, he will begin by rejecting the evidence it offers as
partial and one-sided; nay, he will shut his eyes to it altogether and deny that
it stands in any contradiction at all with his preconceived notions, in order
that he may thus preserve them uninjured. So it is that many a man carries about
a burden of wrong notions all his life long--crotchets, whims, fancies,
prejudices, which at last become fixed ideas. The fact is that he has never
tried to form his fundamental ideas for himself out of his own experience of
life, his own way of looking at the world, because he has taken over his ideas
ready-made from other people; and this it is that makes him--as it makes how
many others!--so shallow and superficial.
Instead of that method of instruction, care should be taken to educate children
on the natural lines. No idea should ever be established in a child's mind
otherwise than by what the child can see for itself, or at any rate it should be
verified by the same means; and the result of this would be that the child's
ideas, if few, would be well-grounded and accurate. It would learn how to
measure things by its own standard rather than by another's; and so it would
escape a thousand strange fancies and prejudices, and not need to have them
eradicated by the lessons it will subsequently be taught in the school of life.
The child would, in this way, have its mind once for all habituated to clear
views and thorough-going knowledge; it would use its own
judgment and take an unbiased estimate of things.
And, in general, children should not form their notions of what life is like
from the copy before they have learned it from the original, to whatever aspect
of it their attention may be directed. Instead, therefore, of hastening to place
books, and books alone, in their hands, let them be made acquainted, step
by step, with things--with the actual circumstances of human life. And
above all let care be taken to bring them to a clear and objective view of the
world as it is, to educate them always to derive their ideas directly from real
life, and to shape them in conformity with it--not to fetch them from other
sources, such as books, fairy tales, or what people say--then to apply them
ready-made to real life. For this will mean that their heads are full of wrong
notions, and that they will either see things in a false light or try in vain to
remodel the world to suit their views, and so enter upon false paths; and
that, too, whether they are only constructing theories of life or engaged in the
actual business of it. It is incredible how much harm is done when the seeds of
wrong notions are laid in the mind in those early years, later on to bear a
crop of prejudice; for the subsequent lessons, which are learned from real life
in the world have to be devoted mainly to their extirpation. To unlearn the
evil was the answer, according to Diogenes Laertius,[1] Antisthenes gave,
when he was asked what branch of knowledge was most necessary; and we can see
what he meant.
[Footnote 1: vi. 7.]
No child under the age of fifteen should receive instruction in subjects which
may possibly be the vehicle of serious error, such as philosophy, religion, or
any other branch of knowledge where it is necessary to take large views; because
wrong notions imbibed early can seldom be rooted out, and of all the
intellectual faculties, judgment is the last to arrive at maturity. The child
should give its attention either to subjects where no error is possible at all,
such as mathematics, or to those in which there is no particular danger in
making a mistake, such as languages, natural science, history and so on. And in
general, the branches of knowledge which are to be studied at any period of life
should be such as the mind is equal to at that period and can perfectly
understand. Childhood and youth form the time for collecting materials, for
getting a special and thorough knowledge of the individual and particular
things. In those years it is too early to form views on a large scale; and
ultimate explanations must be put off to a later date. The faculty of judgment,
which cannot come into play without mature experience, should be left to itself;
and
care should be taken not to anticipate its action by inculcating prejudice,
which will paralyze it for ever.
On the other hand, the memory should be specially taxed in youth, since it is
then that it is strongest and most tenacious. But in choosing the things that
should be committed to memory the utmost care and forethought must be exercised;
as lessons well learnt in youth are never forgotten. This precious soil must
therefore be cultivated so as to bear as much fruit as possible. If you think
how deeply rooted in your memory are those persons whom you knew in the first
twelve years of your life, how indelible the impression made upon you by the
events of those years, how clear your recollection of most of the things that
happened to you then, most of what was told or taught you, it will seem a
natural thing to take the susceptibility and tenacity of the mind at that period
as the ground-work of education. This may be done by a strict observance of
method, and a systematic regulation of the impressions which the mind is to
receive.
But the years of youth allotted to a man are short, and memory is, in general,
bound within narrow limits; still more so, the memory of any one individual.
Since this is the case, it is all-important to fill the memory with what is
essential and material in any branch of knowledge, to the exclusion of
everything else. The decision as to what is essential and material should rest
with the masterminds in every department of thought; their choice should be made
after the most mature deliberation, and the outcome of it fixed and determined.
Such a choice would have to proceed by sifting the things which it is necessary
and important for a man to know in general, and then, necessary and important
for him to know in any particular business or calling. Knowledge of the first
kind would have to be classified, after an encyclopædic
fashion, in graduated courses, adapted to the degree of general culture which a
man may be expected to have in the circumstances in which he is placed;
beginning with a course limited to the necessary requirements of primary
education, and extending upwards to the subjects treated of in all the branches
of philosophical thought. The regulation of the second kind of knowledge would
be left to those who had shown genuine mastery in the several departments into
which it is divided; and the whole system would
provide an elaborate rule or canon for intellectual education, which would, of
course, have to be revised every ten years. Some such arrangement as this would
employ the youthful power of the memory to best advantage, and supply excellent
working material to the faculty of judgment, when it made its appearance later
on.
A man's knowledge may be said to be mature, in other words, it has reached the
most complete state of perfection to which he, as an individual, is capable of
bringing it, when an exact correspondence is established between the whole of
his abstract ideas and the things he has actually perceived for himself. This
will mean that each of his abstract ideas rests, directly or indirectly, upon a
basis of observation, which alone endows it with any real value; and also that
he is able to place every observation he makes under the right abstract idea
which belongs to it. Maturity is the work of experience alone; and therefore it
requires time. The knowledge we derive from our own observation is usually
distinct from that which we acquire through the medium of abstract ideas; the
one coming to us in the natural way, the other by what people tell us, and the
course of instruction we receive, whether it is good or bad. The result is, that
in youth there is generally very little agreement or correspondence between our
abstract ideas, which are merely phrases in the mind, and that real knowledge
which we have obtained by our own observation. It is only later on that a
gradual approach takes place between these two kinds of knowledge, accompanied
by a mutual correction of error; and knowledge is not mature until this
coalition is accomplished. This maturity or perfection of knowledge is something
quite independent of another kind of perfection, which may be of a high or a low
order--the perfection, I mean, to which a man may bring his own individual
faculties; which is measured, not by any correspondence between the two kinds of
knowledge, but by the degree of intensity which each kind attains.
For the practical man the most needful thing is to acquire an accurate and
profound knowledge of the ways of the world. But this, though the most
needful, is also the most wearisome of all studies, as a man may reach a great
age without coming to the end of his task; whereas, in the domain of the
sciences, he masters the more important facts when he is still young. In
acquiring that knowledge of the world, it is while he is a novice, namely, in
boyhood and in youth, that the first and hardest lessons are put before him; but
it often happens that even in later years there is still a great deal to be
learned.
The study is difficult enough in itself; but the difficulty is doubled by
novels, which represent a state of things in life and the world, such as, in
fact, does not exist. Youth is credulous, and accepts
these views of life, which then become part and parcel of the mind; so that,
instead of a merely negative condition of ignorance, you have positive error--a
whole tissue of false notions to start with; and at a later date these actually
spoil the schooling of experience, and put a wrong construction on the lessons
it teaches. If, before this, the youth had no light at all to guide him, he is
now misled by a will-o'-the-wisp; still more often is this the case with a girl.
They have both had a false view of things foisted on them by reading novels; and
expectations have been aroused which can never be fulfilled. This generally
exercises a baneful influence on their whole life. In this respect those whose
youth has allowed them no time or opportunity for reading novels--those who work
with their hands and the like--are in a position of decided advantage. There are
a few novels to which this reproach cannot be addressed--nay, which have an
effect the contrary of bad. First and foremost, to give an example, Gil Blas,
and the other works of Le Sage (or rather their Spanish originals); further,
The Vicar of Wakefield, and, to some extent Sir Walter Scott's novels.
Don Quixote may be regarded as a satirical exhibition of the error to which
I am referring.