Chapter XI: Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

(1770-1831)

Hegel never actually wrote or lectured on education as such, although, according to Rosenkranz, he intended to write what he significantly called “_Staatspädagogik_.” This slowly matured genius, whose interest was speculative more than practical, died too young to fulfill this design. He had no pedagogic impulse such as is seen in Fichte or Herbart. He was to the end essentially a learner rather than a teacher, notwithstanding the fact that his whole life was spent in educational work of various kinds. Nevertheless, he could not help but be touched by the intense pedagogical spirit of his age. The collection of his ideas on the problem of education, drawn from scattered sources, was published in 1853 by one of his disciples, G. Thaulow. The collaboration of them into a system on the basis of his philosophy was made by his most faithful follower, K. Rosenkranz, whose work, “Pedagogy as a System,” has had until recently a considerable influence in the educational world.

Hegel was born the son of a government official and brought up in a home which was in “direct and varied relation with many persons of high official rank.” He did not, like Pestalozzi, share the lot of the common herd. Nor did he taste such hardships of fate as did Fichte. He lived, as a child, as a university student, as a family tutor, as a school man, as a university professor, ever in the air of officialdom and aristocracy.

Moreover, we are told that youth had but a short duration for him. In his student days at Tübingen he gained the nickname of “the old man.” Rousseau had once charmed the young Hegel, as he did every youth of his time; Schelling had fascinated him; Fichte had inspired him with enthusiasm; but Hegel outgrew quickly and abandoned all these romantic tendencies. Heinrich Hotho, one of his pupils, writes in his recollections:

“He was bitter against the demagogues who were ever seeking ‘new things’ in statecraft. Against the caprice of personal opinion, subjective fancy, arbitrary passion, he set himself, seeking to do away with these from youth up, and to put in their place--to do away by putting in their place--a just appreciation of the real, the lawful, the substantial. The senses, sentiments, impulses, wishes, and will were to be brought into free harmony with the necessary and rational, and their accord made habitual” (3: p. 98).

Most geniuses are “youth, intensified, and prolonged,” but Hegel shows his genius in maturity of insight and judgment. Not the fire of prophetic spirit, not the flashes of poetic intuitions, but a proportioned completeness of catholicism and classicism constituted the type of his mental greatness.

Solger, visiting Hegel at the beginning of his Berlin career, writes to Tieck: “I was curious to see what impression the good Hegel would make here. No one talks of him, for he is quiet and busy” (3: p. 78). Yes, “quiet and busy”--this characterizes his mental as well as public life. Nothing like revelation, inspiration, sudden intuition, but only a long, painstaking, methodical reasoning brought him truths. Not only each of his thoughts, but also each of his phrases and words he determined by laborious weighing and balancing. He despised the mere expression of immediate feelings as a pseudo-philosophy, smacking of the Romantic school. For him, “philosophy was to express ‘with colorless words’ (_mit dürren Worten_) the clear, crystalline outlines of thought--the cool judgment of the spirit” (3: p. 39).

Thus, according to his own characterization of the four traditional classifications of temperament, he belongs preëminently to the phlegmatic. His mind is objective, with little subjectivity; more historical than prophetic, more discursive than intuitive, more inclined to systematization than reformation, more conservative than destructive.

This is Hegel. And in him Germany found a great counteracting agency against the sweeping movement of educational reform, engendered by the romantic and revolutionary spirit of the age. In this regard Hegel reminds us of Herbart. The dawn of the new Germany needed such prophetic men as Pestalozzi and Fichte, but her pacification and solidarity required a more constructive genius. Pestalozzi and Fichte stood as the champions of National Education. Hegel, “the official philosopher,” as he is often called, would become the advocate of “State Pedagogy.”

Hegel’s philosophy has been called the Objective Absolute Idealism as opposed to the Subjective Absolute Idealism of Fichte, and the Logical Pantheism as opposed to the Alogical Pantheism of Schopenhauer. The logically minded Hegel saw methodical progressions of thought going on everywhere in the life of nature and humanity. The universal Essence or the Absolute was to him the mind, the intellect, or the reason. Every existence or phenomenon is the manifestation of the eternal unfolding of the Divine Reason. Everything in the world is “becoming,” is in the process of evolution; this “becoming” is the only actuality and life. This eternally progressive world-process is the education of universal beings by and through the _Logos_ or the self-education of God. Man takes part in the world-process of education, and realizes in himself the end of this evolution by becoming a free, self-conscious spirit--God attaining in him the consciousness of Himself.

The human share and endeavor in the universal “becoming,” or the evolution of the _Logos_ in mankind, constitutes the history of the race. Human history is, in general, the process of the liberation of spirit or reason from its bondage--from all external and debasing powers. By these not only political, social, and family despotism are meant, but also one’s own passions, natural desires, inclinations, willfulness, arbitrariness, etc. For freedom does not consist in licentiousness; it is the unbounded self-activity of the Spirit according to its own law. This law is given by reason. Thus freedom can be regarded as lawful action according to rational insight. Therefore the universal realization of self-conscious reason and freedom of the spiritual nature is the teleology of human history. Education from this standpoint means the progressive perfection of humanity from a naïve, unconscious, primitive state of spirit or reason through the hard discipline of slavery and bondage to the consciousness and exercise of its freedom.

To share in this progressive perfection of the race and contribute to its promotion is the destiny of individuals. The connection between the culture of the race and the development of the individual is very close. The latter can only grow in the breast of the former. And the culmination of this close relationship between the whole and its part is the state. It is the most highly developed and compact form of society. History is the objectified, realized humanity, and its attainments are embodied in the institutional life of the state. The individual must take part in this life of the state and “live in the spirit of the nation.” This is the free relation of give and take. But the child cannot by himself enter into the free mutual relation of give and take with society. He is not only incapable of giving his part to society, but also of taking his share from it. Some one else must do this for him. To do this is the duty of parents and teachers, and the art of fulfilling this duty is education in its narrow sense.

For Hegel the child is no angelic being. Innocence as such has no moral value, so far as it is ignorance of the bad and rests on the lack of desire by which the bad can take place. Nor does he recognize the morality of instincts and impulses. Moral freedom is won “through the stern strife against the naïve subjectivity of life, against the immediateness of arbitrary desire and passion” (3: p. 109). Childhood in itself has no value for Hegel. It is not as it was for Rousseau and Froebel, a state to be lived out, but a state to be outgrown. “The child has a right to be educated,” only because it has the destiny to become a man, and yet it is not and does not become so by mere natural development.

“Education is the art of making men moral. It regards man as natural, and points out how he may be born anew--how his first nature may be changed to a second spiritual nature” (3: p. 107). Morality means the mastery of reason over natural desires and inclinations. The child’s undeveloped reason must be, at first, subjected to the developed reason, which is “manifested in the will of his parents, in the knowledge of his teachers, and in the surrounding world.” His growing self must be set in the larger life of the whole, in which mature reason, mature will, mature morality are realized.

“Education may be defined as the visible, progressive transcending of the negative or subjective. For the child, as the form of the potentiality of a moral individual, is a subjective and negative being. His becoming a man is the outgrowing this form; and his education is the discipline or process by which this is done. To gain this positive and essential character he first must be nourished at the breast of the universally moral; he must live as a stranger in the absolute institution of that morality; he must make more and more of it his own, and finally pass over into the universal spirit. It is evident from this that the effort to be virtuous, to obtain absolute morality through education, is not at all a striving after an individual and separate morality. Indeed, such an effort after a positive morality peculiarly one’s own, would be vain and in itself impossible” (3: p. 107).

The educator, then, is no longer to be a mere jealous guardian of Nature’s own developing and educating process, but he is the conscious delegate of the mature generation or the state, whose office is to unite and subordinate the child to the general culture already acquired by them in the course of evolution.

Hegel’s pedagogical ideas are best seen in his delineation of the “ages of man,” which Thaulow calls “an epitome of all pedagogy.”

“The development of the normal human being is made up of a series of processes. These change in accordance with the changing relation of the individual to the race and to the external world” (3: p. 118).

He divides childhood into three--including the fetus, four--stages. But, since the “child before birth has no peculiar individuality, none related in a particular way to particular objects,” there is no education proper here. “At birth it passes from vegetative to animal existence.” He has the most finely organized, infinitely adaptable body of all animals. The growth is not only quantitative, but qualitative. And together with its physical growth goes the mental development, this first stage of infant life being “the time in which the human being learns most. Now the child is made a confidant of all the senses. The outer world becomes a reality to him. He advances from sensation to perception.... He projects his world about himself” (3: pp. 119-120). “The transition stage from infancy to boyhood has the following characteristics: The child’s activity is directed more and more upon the outer world; and along with his sense of the reality of the outer world he begins to be a real person, and to feel himself as such. This feeling is joined with the practical tendency to make all sorts of experiments upon his surroundings. For this practical activity, the child is fitted by the coming of his teeth, by his learning to stand, walk, and speak” (3: pp. 120-121). Standing is the first requirement by the exercise of volition. But “a still freer relation to the outer world is attained by man through his power of walking.” The development of speech, on the other hand, enables him to grasp things in generalized concepts. It also leads him to the consciousness of his own constant and total subject--to the “comprehension of his ego.” The conscious independence of self from the nonself now dawns. “This dawning independence first expresses itself in play with material objects.” Hegel, however, does not like to linger long here, and hastens to the next stage, boyhood, which constitutes “the passage of the child from play to serious study.”

“In this transition stage children begin to be full of curiosity. They especially delight in stories. They seek rare and strange ideas. Above all is the awakening feeling that they are not yet what they are to be, and the ardent wish to become like the grown-up people about them. Out of this springs the child’s desire to imitate” (3: p. 121).

Now the child must be taught. This “feeling of dissatisfaction with himself as he is,” this “personal aspiration for full development,” this “wish to be ‘big’” is “the lever to be grasped by education.” Therefore he condemns “the play education” which “meets children at a low level,” which “looks upon what is childish as already something of value in itself alone,” which, “attempting to make the incompleteness of childhood seem as something complete, and to make the children satisfied with it, casts down and tramples upon their own true better wants.... It puts both itself and what is serious into a puerile form, for which the children themselves feel contempt.” It also “may have throughout the whole life of the pupil the baneful result of making him account everything cheap.” Consequently, in learning, the child should not be left to its own inclination or to anything like its spontaneous interest. “What the boy is to learn must be set before him by authority and example.” This is more according to his own nature, because his ideal at this stage does not appear in any general or abstract form, but is always represented by particular grown-up persons (3: pp. 121-122, 146-147).

In the Fichtean pedagogy the boy was encouraged to self-active learning and thinking. But in the Hegelian pedagogy he is to be essentially receptive. To talk to the boy about original thinking or independent study is pure nonsense or tends to cultivate precocity. There is no instruction without prescription. “Thought at the beginning, like the will, should be obedient”; “willingness to yield one’s ideas is the first necessity for a learner.” Thus: “The tendency of youth to independent reflection or reasoning is one-sided. It should be indulged in as little as possible.... For the chief end of education is to do away with these personal ideas, thoughts, reflections of youth, and their utterance. If the tendency toward self-reasoning be unchecked, there is no discipline or order in thought, no coherent and consequent knowledge” (3: pp. 140-141). Truth means objectivity. “We often say that the understanding is developed by questioning, objecting, responding, etc. But, in truth, the mind is not developed by these; it is only made superficial. The inner nature of a man is broadened by culture, and given him as a possession through self-restraint. Thought is enriched, and the mind vitalized, by silence” (3: p. 140). Silence (ἐχημυθία), the word borrowed from Pythagoras, is the watchword of his instruction. Let us examine a little more fully the content of this word. To say that it is a deepened receptivity, an anticipatory interest, a worked out objectiveness of mind, a self-forgetful absorption in matters presented, a preparedness to react promptly in coming impressions, would be mere tautology. In other words, it is nothing else than the height of disinterested attention. Attention as understood by Hegel always involves voluntary control.

“It demands effort when one wishes to grasp one object rather than another, to abstract himself from the thousand things moving through his mind, from his other interests, and even from his own person; and repressing the tendency to hasty judgment, to give himself up wholly to the object” (3: p. 139).

From the emphasis laid on the receptivity, on strict obedience to prescription, follows the emphasis upon order, regularity, and punctuality, as the first requisites in instruction.

“There can be nothing worse than the evil of procrastination, of the putting off or shirking of work, so that it is not pursued in all earnestness and in an unchangeable order. What is undertaken to be done at a set time should be accomplished as surely as the sun rises” (3: p. 138).

With such an emphasis on receptivity one can easily imagine how Hegel would regard the function of memory in learning. Although he thought it the most difficult point in psychology “to state exactly the place and significance of memory and its organic connection with thought,” it was conceived as somehow opposed to subjectivity and reflection. “Consciously or unconsciously it is ever in use.... It is busy filling the soul with pure existences of outer space” (3: p. 135); “it is mechanization of intelligence.” Thus better memory in youth than in old age had, for Hegel, a certain teleological significance, and great minds have generally good memories.

However, even for Hegel, receptive learning is not the ultimate end, but is only propedeutic.

“It is most important to lead the boy from the state of mere receptivity to that of personal effort. For learning, which is mere taking in and remembering, is a very small part of education” (3: p. 144).

Again:

“If learning were to be limited to a mere taking in, its results would be little better than writing upon the water, for it is not mere receiving, but the self-activity of grasping, and the power to put in use, that alone make knowledge our possession” (3: p. 141).

As to the comparative importance of various branches of study, Hegel, as a champion of the New Humanism, opposed “the effort of making mathematical exercises the chief subject of education” (as the followers of Kant and Pestalozzi tried to do), considering it as “putting the mind upon a rack in order to evolve a perfect machine,” as “making the mind empty and dull” (3: pp. 154-155). Against mere realistic study of natural science he exalted the value of the classics, considering the classical worlds as the second paradise of the human race, “the paradise of the spiritual man, who in his beautiful spontaneity, freedom, depth, and joyousness stepped forth as a bridegroom from his chamber”; praising their masterpieces as “the spiritual bath, the profane baptism, which gives the soul its earliest and most lasting taste for things of beauty and of knowledge” (3: p. 157).

As a means of cultivating abstract thinking--i. e., the power of understanding and reasoning--Hegel exalts again, in opposition to the preceding reformers, the study of logic and grammar, especially the grammar of the ancient languages. “The value of grammatical study,” he asserts, “can scarcely be overestimated, for it forms the beginning of logical culture, a fact, however, that appears to be almost overlooked.” He does not even hesitate to say that “careful grammatical study is one of the most noble and universal means of culture” (3: pp. 155-156). Various branches of philosophy, including the elements of religion, law, ethics, and psychology, are also prescribed for the gymnasium. Voice culture, public speaking, and the art of reading are mentioned as the important factors in education. Instruction in military drill is strongly advocated, as training alertness and exact ideo-motor reaction; and consequently as “the most direct way of counteracting a lazy absent-mindedness”; as the common ground of pursuit which “best serves in leveling the partition wall that we build around our callings”; finally and preëminently as “a reminder that every man, whatever his position, should be ready to defend his fatherland and his prince” (3: pp. 153-154).

In the notion of the school, too, Hegel takes us back to the official and orthodox standpoint. It is simply preparation for the future life of the matured man. It is a mere organ through which the essentials of the acquired culture of the race are bequeathed to the new generation. Nothing more can or should be hoped from it. “The sciences are not enlarged by the school.... Its knowledge is old property of the race. The work of the school has not its perfect end in itself. It lays but the foundation for the possibility of other work, that of real performance.... This preparation, this culture, can never be ‘finished.’ Only a certain stage of it may be attained” (3: p. 147).

School is not, like a Froebelian kindergarten, the children’s own world. “It educates the individual to participate in the world life”; it is “a secluded inner preparation.” This secluded period of mere apprenticeship not only lacks such organic relation to the larger life of the community or the warm, intimate air of family life, as the school in the Pestalozzian conception, but it lacks, unlike the people’s school of Fichte’s ideal, even its own completeness and independence. Hegel complacently admits that “school life is dispassionate; it lacks the higher interest and earnestness of real life.” But, just the same, it is the necessary and best preparation for life. He disapproves “the maxim that children are early to be brought out into society.” For “men of world-wide fame have come from the narrow gate of the monastery; while, on the contrary, men who have grown-up amid all the externalities of life unfold little fruit of inner worth” (3: pp. 147-149).

If silence was the first requisite of learning, so obedience is that of morality.

“Obedience is the beginning of all wisdom. For by this the boy’s will is brought under the reasonable will imposed from without. The boy’s will is not yet fledged, not truly independent and free. It has not learned to see the true, the objective, which makes for righteousness. If children are permitted to follow their impulses, if their self-will is unwisely yielded to, a most ugly habit of stubborn willfulness is formed” (3: p. 122).

If our rationalistic philosopher does not put any faith in the natural impulses of the child, he makes equally little of the child’s individuality. He writes:

“The peculiarities of man must not be rated too highly. The assertion that a teacher must carefully adjust himself to the individuality of his pupil so as to develop it--this assertion is empty. The teacher has no time for that. The individuality of the children is met in the family. But with the school begins a life in accord with a general order, after general rules for all. In school the spirit must be brought to lay aside the peculiarities, it must know and will the universal” (3: pp. 113-114).

The individual experience or consciousness never wholly reveals the full content of the spiritual development or culture attained by the race or the universal soul. The individual soul must, therefore, be fed by the content of the racial soul in order to attain its fullness. This, for Hegel, is done through the spoken word or writing. For him, not the senses or personal experience, as the empiricists claimed, but speech is the organ of learning. The letters of alphabets are the beginning of instruction proper, and, “in general, speech is that airy element, that material immateriality by means of which the widening knowledge of the child is lifted more and more above the material and particular to the universal, and so to thought” (3: p. 123). This importance of instruction through speech in education applies also to morality and religion. Unless we teach, the boy, left to himself, would naturally gather erroneous and imperfect notions of things and their relations. Therefore we need an early instruction in morality and religion. Against the Rousseauean idea that children “cannot understand them, and can gather from them only words for memory,” Hegel asserts that they are “well understood by the child, by the boy, by the youth, in proportion to their age.” Again:

“Our whole life is nothing else than a growing comprehension of their range and significance. We see them exemplified in ever new cases, and our knowledge of their many-sided meanings develops. In fact, were we to put off the teaching of these moral ideas until a man is able to grasp their whole meaning, very few persons need be taught, and these not much before the end of life” (3: pp. 117-118).

Hegel had to say with Pestalozzi that “the feeling of immediate unity with the parents is the spiritual milk upon which the children thrive”; that “the mother should be the chief influence in early education, for morality must be instilled into the child with his earliest perceptions”; that she is entitled to this by her love, which alone “flows with the whole current of her being.” This “is her highest earthly vocation, in which her natural character and her holiest calling are united” (3: pp. 145-146). Yet the parents are not the all-sufficient agents for the education of the child: the school must also have its part. As the parents have the duty and right of educating it as a member of the family, so the state has its duty and right of educating it as a member of society.

Now, to return to Hegel’s delineation of the stages of man, the next stage is youth, which begins with puberty. Here “the life of the race begins to stir within him and to seek satisfaction” (3: p. 124). The accompanying phenomena are the sudden growth and intensification of all his emotions and sentiments,--æsthetic, religious, and social. “Particularly in youth do we feel ourselves related and in sympathy with all nature. We and things about us seem alive with one soul. We have a feeling of the world soul, of the oneness of spirit and nature, and of the spirituality of nature” (3: p. 150).

As to personal relations, “friendship like that of Achilles and Patroclus, or like that still closer friendship of Orestes and Pylades, is chiefly the privilege of youth” (3: p. 151). Youth, with its heightened sentimentality accompanied by the growing sense of the independence of self, is preëminently the age of subjective idealism. “His ideal no longer appears to him, as to the boy, in some person, but is held by him as a universal, independent of such individuality. But to the youth this ideal still has a more or less subjective form, be it an ideal of love and friendship or one of general ambition” (3: p. 124). In this lies the hope, inspiration, and power of the youth, but at the same time his weakness, discouragement, and despair. “The form of the ideal inspires the youth’s energy so that he dreams that he is called and fitted to make the world over, or at least to turn it back to its right course. The young man’s aspiring eye does not see that the substantial universal contained in his ideal is already being evolved and realized in the world. What is realized by the universal seems to him far below the ideal. Accordingly he feels that the world misunderstands both his ideal and himself. Thus the peace in which the child lived with the world is broken for the youth. Because of this turning to the ideal the youth seems to have a nobler outlook and greater unselfishness than the man, who is interested in his personal temporal affairs. But it must be remembered that the man is not bound up in his personal inclinations and subjective opinions, nor is he engaged solely in his personal advancement, but is one with the reasonable realities about him and is active in the world’s behalf” (3: pp. 124-125). This is the stage of objective idealism.

For Fichte, the creation of the ideal world by the power of the subjective will, and the reshaping of actuality according to it, was the noblest and highest destiny of man. But, according to Hegel, this is only a transient phase of the youth, which he must outgrow, if his growth is normal and unhindered. “The youth should shed his horns and adjust himself, with his wishes and plans, to the actual and rational relationships about him” (3: p. 151). This transition from the subjective, abstract idealism of youth to the objective, concrete idealism of manhood is often a painful process, and in many cases leads one to an abject pessimism. “The later it is experienced the worse are its symptoms.... He cannot conquer his repugnance to the actual, and so finds himself relatively incapable, and may easily become so altogether.” If, then, a man is not to succumb to the iron law of actuality, he must recognize its independence and rationality. “He must submit to the condition it imposes, and win from it, though it seems to say him nay, what he will” (3: p. 125).

Thus the young man, finally coming down from his Utopian heaven, “enters partnership with the world, and wins for himself adequate standing room.” Although he gives up “his plan of making the world anew,” still “there is room for honorable, far-reaching, creative activity.” For the objective world with which he now identifies himself is a life process, ever renewing itself and ever advancing. “The man’s work is a part of this renewal and advancement. He grows more and more at one with his objective relationships. He becomes accustomed to his work.... In time he becomes perfectly at home in his calling, and gives himself wholly to it. The essential in all the phases of his business becomes a matter of course. Only the individual, the nonessential, presents to him any novelty” (3: pp. 126-127).

We might deduce from this that manhood is the age for specialization, for discovery and invention, and a man’s development should be in the progressive specialization of his vocation. But Hegel, whose eye is always directed to “the universal,” stops short at its attainment. In the engagement in and the mastery of a vocation man completes himself, fully realizes his personality. “He is then at one with himself, with his environment, with his sphere. He is universal, a whole” (3: p. 153). “The antithesis between the subject and its object” being done away with, “the interest in the latter is lost.” “Thus a man enters old age not only by the running down of the vitality of his physical organism, but also by the crystallizing of the spiritual life into habits” (3: p. 127). But there is one virtue left to old age, that is “to point out the way to the young” by the lessons of his past experience, in the memory of which he now lives.

The Hegelian pedagogy may be called the orthodoxy of education. Like his philosophy, the central conception of which is expressed in the famous dictum, “all that is rational is actual; all that is actual is rational,” it is the strongest defense of existing institutions; it justifies all the traditional principles and methods of education and gives them a rational ground. As conservatism is the self-preservation of every social institution, Hegelianism enjoyed the natural result of being welcomed by officialdom as the safest pedagogy to adopt. We need in society both the visionary idealist and the cold calculator, youthful enthusiasm and matured judgment. Although we must not forget that there often lies a great danger in the very soundness and all-roundness of opinions or precocious senility--a greater danger than the youthful one-sidedness--Hegel will remain as he was, a beneficial counteracting influence against the rashness and heat of a youthful age, a voice calling halt to look back to the already attained values, in the blind pursuit of the anticipated unknown quantity.

REFERENCES

1. +Bryant, William Mackendree.+ Hegel’s Educational Ideas. Werner School Book Co., New York, 1896. 214 pages.

2. +Entner, Paul.+ Hegel’s Ansichten über Erziehung im Zusammenhange mit seiner Philosophie dargestellt. XV. Jahres-Bericht der 1. städtlichen Realschule. Hille, Dresden, 1905. 77 pages.

3. +Luqueer, Frederic Ludlow.+ Hegel as Educator. (Columbia University Dissertation). Macmillan Co., New York, 1896. 185 pages.

4. +Raumer, Karl von.+ Geschichte der Pädagogik vom Wiederaufblühen klassischer Studien bis auf unsere Zeit. 5 vols. Bertelsmann, Gütersloh, 1882-1897.

5. +Rein, Georg Wilhelm+, editor. Encyklopädisches Handbuch der Pädagogik. 8 vols. Beyer, Langensalza, 1895-1906. Vol. III.

6. +Rosenkranz, Johann Karl Friedrich.+ Philosophy of Education. Translated by A. C. Brackett. Second edition, revised and enlarged. Appleton, New York, 1903. 292 pages.

7. +Ziegler, Theobald.+ Geschichte der Pädagogik mit besonderer Rücksicht auf das höhere Unterrichtswesen. Beck, München, 1895. 361 pages.