COMENIUS

The Great Educators

Edited by NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER

COMENIUS
AND
THE BEGINNINGS OF EDUCATIONAL
REFORM

BY
WILL S. MONROE, A.B.
PROFESSOR OF PSYCHOLOGY AND PEDAGOGY IN THE
STATE NORMAL SCHOOL AT WESTFIELD, MASS.
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1900

COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.

PREFACE

The present volume is an effort to trace the reform movement in education from Vives, Bacon, and Ratke to Comenius, who gave the movement its most significant force and direction; and from him to the later reformers,—Francke, Rousseau, Basedow, Pestalozzi, Fröbel, and Herbart. A variety of ideas, interests, and adaptations, all distinctly modern, are represented in the life-creeds of these reformers; and, in the absence of a more satisfactory term, the progressive movement which they represent has been styled realism,—sometimes called the “new education.”

It has been well said that “the dead hand of spiritual ancestry lays no more sacred duty on posterity than that of realizing under happier circumstances ideas which the stress of age or the shortness of life has deprived of their accomplishment.” Many of the reforms represented by the realists occupy no inconsiderable place in the platforms of modern practitioners of education; and in the belief that a history of the movement might contribute toward the ultimate reforms which realism represents, it has seemed expedient to focus such a survey on the life and teachings of the strongest personality and chief exponent of the movement.

The condition of education in Europe during the sixteenth century is briefly told in the opening chapter; following are given the traces of the educational development of Comenius in the writings of Vives, Bacon, and Ratke; three chapters are devoted to the life of Comenius and the reforms in which he actively participated; an exposition of his educational writings has three chapters; a chapter is given to the influence of Comenius on Francke, Rousseau, Pestalozzi, and other modern reformers; and the closing chapter sums up his permanent influence. The volume has two appendices,—one giving tables of dates relating to the life and writings of Comenius, and the other a select annotated bibliography.

In the exposition of the writings of Comenius, the author has made liberal use of English and German translations from Latin and Czech originals. In the case of the Great didactic, the scholarly translation by Mr. Keatinge has, in the main, been followed. Free translations of portions of this work had been made by the author before the appearance of Mr. Keatinge’s book; and in some instances these have been retained. As regards the account of Comenius’ views on the earliest education of the child, the author’s edition of the School of infancy has been followed; and in the discussion of reforms in language teaching, he is indebted to Mr. Bardeen’s edition of the Orbis pictus, and to Dr. William T. Harris for the use of the handsome Elzevir edition of the Janua, which is the property of the Bureau of Education.

WILL S. MONROE.

State Normal School,
Westfield, Mass.

CONTENTS

COMENIUS

CHAPTER I
EUROPEAN EDUCATION IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY

Humanism, realism, and naturalism characterized—Devotion of the sixteenth century to the humanistic ideal—Study of Latin eloquence—Style the chief aim—Neglect of the mother-tongue—Views of John Sturm and the Jesuits—Devotion to Cicero—Decadence of the later humanists—Erasmus and Melanchthon on the enrichment of the course of study—Satires of Rabelais directed against the humanists—Protests of Montaigne—Attitude of Ascham and Mulcaster—Transition from humanism to realism.

“Education in Europe,” says Oscar Browning,[1] “has passed through three phases, which may conveniently be called humanism, realism, and naturalism. The first is grounded upon the study of language, and especially of the two dead languages, Greek and Latin. The second is based upon the study of things instead of words, the education of the mind through the eye and the hand. Closely connected with this is the study of those things which may be of direct influence upon and direct importance to life. The third is not in the first instance study at all. It is an attempt to build up the whole nature of man,—to educate first his body, then his character, and lastly his mind.”

The sixteenth century was wedded to the humanistic ideal of education. Without regard for the diversity of avocations, classical culture was held to be the safest and best training for the manifold duties of life. Aristotle’s Politics was considered the wisest utterance on the direction of affairs of state; Cæsar’s Commentaries the safest guides to military eminence; the practical Stoicism of the Latin authors the most infallible basis for ethics and the regulation of conduct; and as for agriculture, had not Virgil written a treatise on that subject? It was clear in the minds of the sixteenth-century humanists that classical culture furnished the best preparation, alike for theologians and artisans.

To accomplish this purpose, as soon as the child was considered sufficiently matured for linguistic discipline, and this varied from the sixth to the ninth years, he was initiated into the mysteries of Latin eloquence. His preliminary training consisted in a verbal study of the Latin grammar for purposes of precision in speech and successful imitation; but, as the grammar was printed in Latin, with its hundreds of incomprehensible rules and exceptions, all of which had to be “learned by heart,” the way of the young learner was, indeed, a thorny one. True, the classical authors were later read, but chiefly for the purpose of gleaning from them choice phrases to be used in the construction of Latin sentences, or for purposes of disputations in dialectics. Logic and history were given most subordinate places in the course of study, the former merely that it might give greater precision in writing and speaking, and the latter that it might furnish illustrations in rhetorical exercises.

This conception of education was almost universally held in the sixteenth century, by Protestants like Trotzendorf and Sturm, as well as by Catholics like Aquaviva and the members of the Society of Jesus. Nor was it confined to elementary and secondary education; for, as Professor Paulsen[2] has shown, the conquest of European universities by the humanists was complete by the second decade of the sixteenth century. The statutes of most of the universities at this time make the speaking of the Latin compulsory. That at Ingolstadt reads: “A master in a bursary shall induce to the continual use of Latin by verbal exhortations and by his own example; and shall also appoint those who shall mark such as speak the vulgar tongue and shall receive from them an irremissible penalty.” Again: “That the students in their academical exercises may learn by the habit of speaking Latin to speak and express themselves better, the faculty ordains that no person placed by the faculty upon a common or other bursary shall dare to speak German. Any one heard by one of the overseers to speak German shall pay one kreutzer.” There grew out of this prohibition a widespread system of spying. The spies reported to the university authorities on such students (vulgarisantes they were called) who persisted in speaking in the mother-tongue. In spite, however, of statutes, spies, fines, and floggings, the boys in the sixteenth century spoke little Latin when they were alone by themselves. Cordier,[3] writing in 1530, says, “Our boys always chatter French with their companions; or if they try to talk Latin, cannot keep it up.”

The old ecclesiastical Latin of the Middle Ages had been superseded by the classical Latin of the Roman poets, and all the energies of the educational institutions were thrown into the acquisition and practice of Latin eloquence. The classics were read for the phrases that might be culled for use in the construction of Latin sentences; these, with disputations, declamations, and Latin plays, were the order of the century. Since education consisted in the acquisition of a graceful and elegant style, the young learner, from the first, applied himself to the grammatical study of Latin authors, regarding solely the language of the classics, and taking subject-matter into account only when this was necessary to understand the words.

There was no study of the mother-tongue preliminary to the study of the classics. Children began at once the study of the Latin grammar, and they had to write Latin verses before they had been exercised in compositions, in the vernacular, or, for that matter, before they had been trained to express their thoughts in Latin prose. And still more remarkable, as Oscar Browning points out, “the Latin taught was not the masculine language of Lucretius and Cæsar, but the ornate and artificial diction of Horace and Virgil, and, above all, of Cicero.” “There is no doubt,” he adds, “that narrow and faulty as it was, it gave a good education so long as people believed in it. To know Horace and Virgil by heart became the first duty of the scholar. Speeches in Parliament were considered incomplete if they did not contain at least one Latin quotation. A false quantity was held to be a greater crime than a slip in logical argument. Cicero not only influenced the education of English statesmen, but had no inconsiderable effect on their conduct.”

The humanist educators of the sixteenth century not only neglected the study of the mother-tongue—they proscribed it. The Ratio[4] of the Jesuits forbids its use except on holidays, and Sturm at Strasburg abbreviated the recreation periods of his pupils because of risks of speaking in the mother-tongue on the playground. And all this proscription of the vernacular that students might acquire eloquence in a foreign tongue. Well does Raumer[5] ask, “Why did they continue, like a second Sisyphus, their fruitless endeavors to metamorphose German into Roman youths, and to impart to them, in defiance of the laws of human nature, another tongue?”

They were themselves deceived in assuming that they could call to life the ancient culture of Rome and Greece. Indeed, they believed that they had discovered ways of training which would develop scholars capable of producing Latin works equal to the masterpieces that they had studied in their schools. John Sturm, one of the most ardent of the humanists, said: “The Romans had two advantages over us; the one consisted in learning Latin without going to school, and the other in frequently seeing Latin comedies and tragedies acted, and in hearing Latin orators speak. Could we recall these advantages in our schools, why could we not, by persevering diligence, gain what they possessed by accident and habit—namely, the power of speaking Latin to perfection? I hope to see the men of the present age, in their writing and speaking, not merely followers of the old masters, but equal to those who flourished in the noblest age of Athens and Rome.” But how misguided and mistaken!

Not only did Latin monopolize the curriculum of the sixteenth-century school, but the study was primarily philological, for grammatical structure, and only secondarily for the content of the literature, for a correct understanding of the author. As a matter of fact, the method of study was such as to make intelligent comprehension of the author’s thought next to impossible, since the humanists simply culled out phrases which might be imitated and used in the exercises of style. Raumer says of this kind of teaching: “The author was not an end, but only a means to an end—the cultivation of deified Roman eloquence in boys. And why? Precisely as the peacock was used by the jackdaw. They borrowed the author’s words and phrases, grouped them together, and learned them by heart, in order subsequently to apply them in speech or writing. Borrow is too feeble an expression; for the jackdaw designed not merely to borrow the peacock’s feathers, but to represent them as his own. The doctrine of imitation, as set forth by Sturm and the others, was, after all, a mere jackdaw theory. The pupil was taught how, by a slight alteration, to disguise phrases from Cicero, and then to use them in writing or speech, exactly as if they were his own productions, so adroitly smuggling them in that the readers or hearers might not suspect from whence they were taken. Says Sturm: ‘When the teacher gives out themes for composition, he should draw attention to those points where imitation is desirable, and show how similarity may be concealed by a superadded variation.’ Again: ‘We must, in the first place, take care that the similarity shall not be manifest. Its concealment may be accomplished in three ways—by adding, by taking away, and by alteration.’”

In this mad race for Latin eloquence, the sixteenth-century humanists became more and more circumscribed in the choice of authors. Sturm, for example, placed Cicero at the head of the list, because of the faultless models of his eloquence. The Jesuits likewise held Cicero in high esteem. Said one of their writers, “Style should be drawn almost exclusively from Cicero, although the most approved of the historians need not on that account be overlooked.” Again: “The pattern we should follow in style is comprehended in the words of the rule, ‘imitate Cicero.’ As in the study of theology we follow the divine Thomas Aquinas, and in philosophy Aristotle, so in the humanities Cicero must be regarded as our peculiar and preëminent leader. For he has been crowned by the palm of superior praise by the common consent of the world. But some, misguided by a wilful and self-formed taste, have gone astray, preferring a style totally different from that of Cicero; such an erratic course is quite at variance with the genius of our institutions and hostile to the spirit of prompt obedience.”

This servile devotion to Cicero, it should be recalled, was a marked departure from the more varied and richer curricula of the fifteenth-century humanists,[6] when men of the stamp of Vittorino da Feltre, Leonardo Bruni, Vergarius, Sylvius, and Guarino were the standard-bearers of humanism. Many causes had conspired to bring about this decadence; and perhaps the most fundamental cause was the senseless worship of forms of expression. The later humanists worshipped the forms of thought. “Beauty of expression,” says Professor Laurie,[7] “was regarded as inseparable from truth and elevation of thought. The movement soon shared the fate of all enthusiasms. The new form was worshipped, and to it the spirit and substance were subordinated. Style became the supreme object of the educated classes, and successful imitation, and thereafter laborious criticism, became marks of the highest culture.”

This use of the classics as instruments in grammatical drill and vehicles of communication had become well-nigh universal by the middle of the sixteenth century. Erasmus, himself one of the most ardent advocates of classical learning, perceived apparently the narrowing tendencies of humanistic training, and urged that students be taught to know many things besides Latin and Greek in order that they might the better comprehend the classics. He recommended the addition of geography, arithmetic, and natural science to the school course.

And Melanchthon, with all his enthusiasm for classical learning, thought the humanities insufficient to satisfy all the needs of culture. He advised the incorporation of physics, mathematics, and astronomy into the curriculum. “Although the nature of things cannot be absolutely known, nor the marvellous works of God traced to their original, until, in the future life, we shall listen to the eternal counsel of the Father,” he writes, “nevertheless, even amid this our present darkness, every gleam and every hint of harmony of this fair creation forms a step toward the knowledge of God and toward virtue, whereby we ourselves shall also learn to love and maintain order and moderation in all our acts. Since it is evident that men are endowed by their Creator with faculties fitted for the contemplation of nature, they must, of necessity, take delight in investigating the elements, the laws, the qualities, and the forces of the various bodies by which they are surrounded.”

As has already been shown, however, the humanists took little interest in the study of subjects not discussed by classical authors. Absorbed in a world of books, as Mr. Quick[8] suggests, they overlooked the world of nature. Galileo had in vain tried to persuade them to look through his telescope, but they held that truth could not be discovered by any such contrivances—that it could be arrived at only by the comparison of manuscripts. “No wonder,” remarks Mr. Quick, “that they had so little sympathy with children, and did not know how to teach them.”

Fortunately for the history of education, there were critics in the sixteenth century who did not conform to the dogma of linguistic discipline, and who called attention to the need of educational reform. Whatever the merits of the classical languages, protested these critics, they must derive their value ultimately from the rank they take as literature. The protest of Rabelais early in the century was not only one of the first but one of the most effective charges against contemporary practices. In his famous satire he intrusted the young giant Gargantua to the care and training of the humanist educator Tubal Holofernes, who spent five years and a quarter in teaching him to say his A B C’s backward; thirteen years on Donatus’ Latin grammar and the composition of Latin verses and sentences; thirty-four years more in the study of Latin eloquence, after which the schoolmaster dies, when, as Rabelais concluded, Gargantua had grown more ignorant, heavy, and loutish. “In this confused and ribald allegory,” says Mr. James P. Munroe,[9] “Rabelais led the way out of ancient superstition into modern science. More than this, he taught in it that the study of Nature, observation of her laws, imitation of her methods, must be at the root of every true system of education. He showed that the Nature spirit is the true spirit of good teaching. Ever since his day civilized mankind has been trying to learn this lesson of his and to apply it in the schools. For three centuries the leaders in education, under his direct inspiration, have been slowly and painfully transforming the false pedagogy of the cloister into the true pedagogy of out-of-doors. Writers and teachers, schools and universities, have been engaged in a halting and irregular struggle to transfer education from a metaphysical to a physical basis, to lead it away from the habit of deductive speculation into one of inductive research. This transfer Rabelais made boldly and at once. He did not, of course, elaborate the educational ideal of to-day, but he plainly marked out the lines upon which that ideal is framed. He taught truth and simplicity, he ridiculed hypocrisy and formalism, he denounced the worship of words, he demanded the study of things, he showed the beauty of intellectual health, of moral discipline, of real piety. Best of all, he enunciated the supreme principle of Nature, which is ordered freedom.”

Montaigne,[10] also, in France, was equally severe in his criticisms on the humanists. He denounced in no uncertain terms the methods of introducing Latin to beginners and the harsh and severe discipline so common in the schools of Europe during the sixteenth century. “Education ought to be carried on with a severe sweetness,” he wrote, “quite contrary to the practice of our pedants, who, instead of tempting and alluring children to a study of language by apt and gentle ways, do, in truth, present nothing before them but rods and ferules, horror and cruelty. Away with this violence! Away with this compulsion! There is nothing which more completely dulls and degenerates the nature of a bright child.” Again: “Our schools are houses of correction for imprisoned youths; and children are made incorrigible by punishment. Visit them when the children are getting their lessons, and you will hear nothing but the outcries of boys under execution and the thundering noises of their teachers, drunk with fury. It is a pernicious way to tempt young and timorous souls to love their books while wearing a ferocious countenance and with a rod in hand.”

Montaigne was equally convinced of the pedagogic error of the humanists in regarding classical knowledge as synonymous with wisdom. “We may become learned from the learning of others,” he said, “but we never become wise except by our own wisdom.... We are truly learned from knowing the present, not from knowing the past any more than the future.... Yet we toil only to stuff the memory and leave the conscience and understanding void. And like birds abroad to forage for grain, bring it home in their beak, without tasting it themselves, to feed their young, so our pedants go picking knowledge here and there out of several authors, and hold it at their tongue’s end, only to spit it out and distribute it among their pupils.”

Roger Ascham,[11] in the quaint preface of his Scholemaster, also bears testimony against the harsh discipline of the sixteenth century. During the great plague in London, in 1563, Ascham and some friends were dining at Windsor with Sir William Cecil. While there he learned that many of the students at Eton had run away because of the severe punishments administered at this famous public school. “Whereupon,” says Ascham, “Sir William took occasion to wish that some discretion were in many schoolmasters in using correction than commonly there is, who many times punish rather the weakness of nature than the fault of the scholar, whereby many scholars that might else prove well, be driven to hate learning before they know what learning meaneth; and so are made willing to forsake their book, and to be willing to put to any other kind of living.” This incident led to the composition of the Scholemaster, which was a guide for “the bringing up of youth,” in which gentleness rather than severity is recommended, and “a ready way to the Latin tongue,” in which an honest effort is made to simplify language teaching and adapt it to the tastes and interests of young learners.

Richard Mulcaster,[12] another Englishman and humanist of the sixteenth century, questioned seriously the wisdom of his associates and contemporaries in their exclusion of the mother-tongue from the course of study. In his Elementarie he asked: “Is it not a marvellous bondage to become servants to one tongue, for learning’s sake, the most part of our time, with loss of most time, whereas we may have the very same treasure in our own tongue with the gain of most time? our own bearing the joyful title of our liberty and freedom, the Latin tongue remembering us of our thraldom and bondage. I love Rome, but London better; I favor Italy, but England more: I honor the Latin, but I worship the English.” Mr. Quick is right in maintaining that “it would have been a vast gain to all Europe if Mulcaster had been followed instead of Sturm. He was one of the earliest advocates of the use of English instead of Latin, and good reading and writing in English were to be secured before Latin was begun.”

These were some of the voices raised against the bookish classical learning of the sixteenth century; but it remained for Vives, Bacon, and Ratke to convince Europe of the insufficiency of the humanistic ideal, and for Comenius, the evangelist of modern pedagogy, to bring about the necessary reforms. The part played by each in the transition from humanism to realism, from classical learning and philology to modern thought and the natural sciences, will be briefly traced in the succeeding chapters of this work.

CHAPTER II
FORERUNNERS OF COMENIUS

Traces of the intellectual development of Comenius. Vives a realist—His early training in Spain and France—Educational activity in Belgium and England—Views on the education of women—Theory of education—Comparison of Vives and Comenius. Bacon the founder of modern realism—Views on the education of his day—Attacks mediævalism—Study of nature and the inductive method—Individual differences among children. Ratke—Studies at Hamburg and Rostock—Visits England and becomes acquainted with the philosophy of Bacon—His plan of education—Its reception by the universities at Jena and Giessen—Organization of the schools at Gotha—Call to Sweden—Summary of Ratke’s views—Harmony of his teachings with those of Comenius. Campanella, Andreæ, and Bateus—Their influence on the life and teachings of Comenius.

Every educational reformer owes much, in the way of inspiration and suggestion, to his predecessors, and of none is this more true than of John Amos Comenius. Everywhere in his writings are to be found traces of the movement he championed, in the writings of Vives, Bacon, Ratke, Bateus, Campanella, and others. As Professor Nicholas Murray Butler remarks: “From Ratke he learned something of the way in which language teaching, the whole curriculum of the time, might be reformed; and from Bateus he derived both the title and the plan of his Janua. Campanella suggested to him the necessity of the direct interrogation of nature if knowledge was to progress, and Vives emphasized for him from the same point of view the defects of contemporary school practice. But it was Bacon’s Instauratio Magna that opened his eyes to the possibilities of our knowledge of nature and its place in the educational scheme.”[13] This obligation to his predecessors Comenius was the first to recognize. And he recognized it often and specifically by his willing tributes to the help received by him from Vives, Bacon, Ratke, and others.

Vives

“Comenius received his first impulse as a sense-realist,” says Raumer, “from the well-known Spanish pedagogue John Lewis Vives, who had come out against Aristotle and disputation in favor of a Christian mode of philosophizing and the silent contemplation of nature.” “It is better for the pupils to ask, to investigate, than to be forever disputing with one another,” said Vives. “Yet,” adds Comenius, “Vives understood better where the fault was than what was the remedy.” In the preface to the Janua, Comenius quotes Vives among others as opposed to the current methods of language teaching.

The Spanish educator was born a hundred years before Comenius, of poor, but noble parentage. When fifteen years old he was considered the most brilliant pupil in the academy at Valencia. Two years later he was matriculated in the University of Paris, where, as his biographers tell us, he was surrounded by the Dialecticians, whose theology was the most abstruse and whose Latin was the most barbarous. This condition of affairs turned the young Spaniard’s thoughts toward educational reform. He realized in Paris, as he had not before, the uselessness of the empty disputations which occupied so much time in the schools.

Three years were spent in study at Paris, after which Vives travelled through portions of Spain and France, and, in 1517, he settled with the Valdura family in Bruges and married the daughter of his host. Here he wrote his allegory Christi triumphus, in which he holds up to ridicule the methods of teaching in the University of Paris. A year later he was installed in the University of Louvain as the instructor of the young Cardinal de Croy. While here he wrote a history of philosophy; made the acquaintance of Erasmus; and opened correspondence with Thomas More and other reformers.

In 1519 he visited Paris with Cardinal de Croy; and, in spite of his late criticisms, he was cordially received by the university, his scholarship and ability now being recorded facts. Two years later De Croy died without having made any provision for the support of his tutor. Vives began at once a commentary on St. Augustine; but his health giving way, he returned to Bruges, where, in July, he had a personal interview with Thomas More, Wolsey, and others, who were in favor with Henry VIII of England. He taught at Louvain during the winter semester of 1522–1523, after which, through the influence of the English dignitaries already mentioned, he was called to England.

In what capacity he went to England is hardly known. Some say as the tutor of King Henry’s daughter Mary; others as a lecturer in the University of Oxford. Certain it is that he gave two lectures at Oxford, which were attended by the king and queen, and that he received the honorary degree of D.C.L., in 1523. In 1526 appeared his treatise on the care of the poor, which he dedicated to the municipal council of Bruges. It was one of the first scientific treatments of pauperism. He maintained that it was incumbent upon State, and not upon the Church to care for the poor. Buisson says of it, “Its suggestions are as attractive as they are wise; and even to-day they continue in full force.”

In 1528 he published his pedagogic classic on the Christian education of women. The mother, says Vives, like Cornelia, should regard her children as her most precious jewels. She should nurse her own children because of possible physical influences on the child. The mother should instruct her girl in all that pertains to the household; and early teach her to read. She should relate to her stories, not empty fables, but such as will instruct and edify her and teach her to love virtue and hate vice. The mother should teach her daughter that riches, power, praise, titles, and beauty are vain and empty things; and that piety, virtue, bravery, meekness, and culture are imperishable virtues. Strong discipline in the home is urged. Lax discipline, says Vives, makes a man bad, but it makes a woman a criminal. Dolls should be banished from the nursery because they encourage vanity and love of dress. Boys and girls should not be instructed together, not even during the earliest years of childhood. But women require to be educated as well as men. This work, which presented in stronger terms than hitherto the claims of the education of women, was dedicated to Catherine of Aragon. It was widely republished and had large influence.

For five years Vives had been a distinguished figure at the court of Henry VIII, but with the king’s application for divorce, in 1528, came a rupture of these pleasant relations. In a letter to a friend he says: “You must have heard of the troubles between the king and the queen, as it is now talked of everywhere. I have taken the side of the queen, whose cause has seemed to me just, and have defended her by word and pen. This offended his Majesty to such degree that I was imprisoned for six weeks, and only released upon condition that I would never appear in the palace again. I then concluded it safest to return home [to Bruges]; and, indeed, the queen advised me to in a secret letter. Shortly after Cardinal Campeggio was sent to Britain to judge the cause. The king was very solicitous that the queen appoint counsel to defend her side before Campeggio and Wolsey. She, therefore, called me to her aid; but I told her plainly that any defence before such a court was useless, and that it would be much better to be condemned unheard, than with the appearance of defence. The king sought only to save appearances with his people, that the queen might not appear to have been unjustly treated; but he had little regard for the rest. At this the queen was incensed that I did not obey her call instead of following my own good judgment, which is worth more to me than all the princes of the world together. So it has come about that the king regards me as his adversary, and the queen regards me as disobedient and opinionated; and both of them have withdrawn my pension.”

His closing years were passed at Bruges with his wife’s family; at Breda with the Duchess of Nassau, a Spanish lady who had formerly been his pupil; and at Paris, where he gave some courses of lectures. He had struggled against a weak constitution all his life, and after his return from England other diseases developed. He died on May 6, 1540, in his forty-eighth year, and was buried in the Church of St. Donat at Bruges.

His most considerable contribution to the philosophy of education appeared after his return from England. It was entitled De disciplinis; was published in three parts, in 1531; and was dedicated to the King of Portugal. As Dr. Lange remarks, this work alone entitles Vives to large consideration as an educational reformer.

Vives justifies, in the introduction, the position he assumes in regard to Aristotle; while he regards the Greek as a great philosopher, he declares that the world has gained in experience since Aristotle wrote, and he sees no reason why his teachings should not be set aside if found to be incorrect. He has no doubt but that later generations will find theories better adapted to their ends than those he himself advocates, but he greets as a friend the one who shall point out his errors.

In the first part he treats of the decline of the sciences. The causes of this decline he considers twofold: (1) Moral; and here he notes an unwillingness to search for truth for truth’s sake. Pride is the root of this evil. A student in the University of Paris had remarked to him, “Sooner than not distinguish myself by founding some new doctrine, I would defend one of whose falsity I was convinced.” This moral weakness he thought altogether inconsistent with the advancement of the sciences. (2) Historical and material, including as causes the migration of nations by which existing orders of civilization have been annihilated; the obscurity of ancient manuscripts, requiring more time to decipher their meaning than it would take to discover from nature their meaning; the ever increasing use of commentaries in the study of originals, in which the diverse opinions of the commentators lead farther from the original sense; the practice of scholastic disputation which is taught the pupils before they know what they are disputing about; and the practice of regarding teaching as a trade rather than a profession, thus causing many bright minds to select other vocations, and to bring to the work incompetent and coarse minds.

The second part treats of the decline of grammar, and the third part of the art of teaching, in which he gives some most sane directions. Schools should be located in the most healthy part of the community. They should not be too near commercial centres; at the same time, they should not be too distant from the centre of population. As to teachers, they should have good academic training; they should be skilled in the art of imparting knowledge; and their morals should be such as would furnish examples to their pupils. Covetousness and ambition, above all things, should be unknown to them. Teachers who have ambition and reputation in their minds are thereby unfitted for the work of teaching. On this account, the state should fix the salaries, and the compensation should be the wage of honest men. There should be a school in every community. Before pupils should be assigned tasks, teachers should ascertain their mental capacities and characteristics. They should also be privately tested four times a year; and when children are found who possess no taste for study they should be dismissed from the school. Corporal punishment should seldom be applied, and never to such a degree as to humiliate the pupils. Children should be given plenty of play time; and hearty, romping games are especially recommended. In the matter of method, Vives heartily commends the inductive,—from particulars to generals,—and he urges such a grouping of studies that each new subject studied may naturally grow out of the preceding lesson. While he strongly advises the study of the natural sciences, he is less enthusiastic here than Bacon, fearing, as he admits, that a contemplation of nature may prove dangerous to those not deeply grounded in faith.

But Vives was essentially a realist in his doctrines of education; and when his views are compared with those of Comenius, community of ideas is at once apparent. Both would begin education in the home and make the mother the first teacher. Both realized the need of better organization and classification of the schools. Both urged reforms in the matter of language teaching. Both considered education a matter of state concern, and urged pedagogical training for teachers. Both presented the claims of science and urged the coördination and correlation of the different subjects of study. Both emphasized the value of play and the need of physical training. Both advocated education for all classes of both sexes, and both exaggerated the need and importance of the religious training of the child.

Bacon

“Though there were many before Bacon, and especially artists and craftsmen,” says Raumer, “who lived in communion with nature, and who, in manifold ways, transfigured and idealized her, and unveiled her glory; and, though their sense for nature was so highly cultivated that they attained to a practical understanding of her ways, yet this understanding was at best merely instinctive: for it led them to no scientific deductions and yielded them no thoughtful and legitimate dominion over her.”

The founder of modern realism was born in London on the 22d of January in the year 1561. When sixteen years of age he entered Trinity College, Cambridge, where he studied under Dr. John Whitgift, a noted professor of theology, and afterward archbishop of Canterbury. He studied diligently the writings of Aristotle, but was convinced of their inadequacy. Writing of this period he says: “Amid men of sharp and strong wits, and abundance of leisure, and small variety of reading, their wits being shut up in the cells of a few authors, chiefly Aristotle, their dictator, as their persons are shut up in the cells of monasteries and colleges; and who knowing little history, either of nature or time, did out of no great quantity of matter, and infinite agitation of wit, spin cobwebs of learning, admirable for the fineness of the thread and work, but of no substance or profit.”

The checkered career of Bacon is extraneous to his writings and may be passed over in silence. As noted in the first chapter, the educational institutions of the sixteenth century concerned themselves wholly with the acquisition and display of Latin eloquence. Grammar was studied with infinite labor and sorrow for years that students might acquire correct forms of speech; logic that they might express themselves with precision; and a minimum of history was taught that ancient records might furnish ornate illustrations in speaking and writing.

Erasmus and Melanchthon had disputed this ideal of culture, but it remained for Bacon to demolish this idol of mediævalism. “Forsooth,” he says, “we suffer the penalty of our first parents’ sin, and yet follow in their footsteps. They desired to be like God, and we, their posterity, would be so in a higher degree. For we create worlds, direct and control nature, and, in short, square all things by the measure of our own folly, not by the plummet of divine wisdom, nor as we find them in reality. I know not whether, for this result we are forced to do violence to nature or to our own intelligence the most; but it nevertheless remains true, that we stamp the seal of our own image upon the creatures and works of God, instead of carefully searching for, and acknowledging, the seal of the Creator manifest in them. Therefore have we lost, the second time, and that deservedly, our empire over the creatures, yea, when after and notwithstanding the fall, there was left to us some title to dominion over the unwilling creatures, so that they could be subjected and controlled, even this we have lost, in great part through our pride, in that we have desired to be like God, and to follow the dictates of our own reason alone. Now then, if there be any humility in the presence of the Creator, if there be any reverence for and exaltation of his handiwork, if there be any charity toward men, any desires to relieve the woes and sufferings of humanity, any love for the light of truth, and hatred toward the darkness of error,—I would beseech men again and again, to dismiss altogether, or at least for a moment to put away their absurd and intractable theories, which give to assumptions the dignity of hypotheses, dispense with experiment, and turn them away from the works of God. Let them with a teachable spirit approach the great volume of creation, patiently decipher its secret characters, and converse with its lofty truths; so shall they leave behind the delusive echoes of prejudice, and dwell within the perpetual outgoings of divine wisdom. This is that speech and language whose lines have gone out into all the earth, and no confusion of tongues has ever befallen it. This language we should all strive to understand, first condescending, like little children, to master its alphabet.”

Instead of training children to interrogate nature for themselves, and to interpret the answers to these interrogations, instead of going straight to nature herself, the schools are forever teaching what others have thought and written on the subject. This procedure, according to Bacon, not only displays lack of pedagogic sense, but gives evidence of ignorance and self-conceit, and inflicts the greatest injury on philosophy and learning. Such methods of instruction, moreover, tend to stifle and interrupt all inquiry. We must, says Bacon, “come as new-born children, with open and fresh minds, to the observation of nature. For it is no less true in this human kingdom of knowledge than in God’s kingdom of heaven, that no man shall enter into it except as he becomes first as a little child.”

Bacon’s notion, as summarized by Raumer, was that “man must put himself again in direct, close, and personal contact with nature, and no longer trust to the confused, uncertain, and arbitrary accounts and descriptions of her historians and would-be interpreters. From a clear and correct observation and perception of objects, their qualities, powers, etc., the investigator must proceed, step by step, till he arrives at laws, and to that degree of insight that will enable him to interpret the laws and to analyze the processes of nature. To this end Bacon proffers to us his new method—the method of induction. With the aid of this method we attain to an insight into the connection and natural relation of the laws of matter, and thus, according to him, we are enabled through this knowledge to make nature subservient to our will.”

This was, according to Comenius, the true key to the human intellect. But he laments that Bacon should have given us the key and failed to unlock the door to the treasure-house. But Bacon did more than formulate the laws of scientific induction for pedagogic purposes: he made possible the enrichment of the courses of study by the addition of a wide range of school studies. His thrusts at the Latin and Greek, as the sole exponents of culture, were telling in their effect and made possible the recognition of the vernacular themes in Comenius’ day. “The wisdom of the Greeks,” he says, “was rhetorical; it expended itself upon words, and it had little to do with the search after truth.” Speaking again of classical culture, he says: “These older generations fell short of many of our present knowledges; they know but a small part of the world, and but a brief period of history. We, on the contrary, are acquainted with a far greater extent of the world, besides having discovered a new hemisphere, and we look back and survey long periods of history.”

Bacon recognized great individual differences in the mental capacities of children, and he urged that these differences and special tastes be taken into account by the teachers. He says: “The natural bent of the individual minds should be so far encouraged that a student who shall learn all that is required of him may be allowed time in which to pursue a favorite study. And, furthermore, it is worth while to consider, and I think this point has not hitherto received the attention which its importance demands, that there are two distinct modes of training the mind to a free and appropriate use of its faculties. The one begins with the easiest, and so proceeds to the more difficult; the other, at the outset, presses the pupil with the more difficult tasks, and, after he has mastered these, turns him to pleasanter and easier ones: for it is one method to practise swimming with bladders, and another to practise dancing with heavy shoes. It is beyond all estimate how a judicious blending of these two methods will profit both the mental and the bodily powers. And so to select and assign topics of instruction as to adapt them to the individual capabilities of the pupils,—this, too, requires a special experience and judgment. A close observation and an accurate knowledge of the different natures of the pupils are due from teachers to the parents of these pupils, that they may choose an occupation in life for their sons accordingly. And note further, that not only does every one make more rapid progress in those studies to which his nature inclines him, but, again, that a natural disinclination, in whatever direction, may be overcome by the help of special studies. For instance, if a boy has a light, inattentive, inconstant spirit, so that he is easily diverted, and his attention cannot be readily fixed, he will find advantage in the mathematics, in which a demonstration must be commenced anew whenever the thought wanders even for a moment.”

These citations will suggest parallels in the aims of the two great reformers. Both sought to introduce the student to nature at first hand. Both aimed to reorganize the sciences into one great body of coördinated knowledge. Both emphasized the value of the inductive method in the development of subjects of study. Bacon said: “A good method will solve all problems. A cripple on the right path will beat a racer on the wrong path.” Said Comenius: “The secret of education lies in method.” Again: “There is no difficulty in learning Latin: what we want is a good method.”

Ratke

Although but little more than twenty years the senior of Comenius, Ratke’s mental development was less tardy, so that when the Moravian was a young collegian at Herborn, Ratke was enjoying the full flush of popularity as an educational reformer. Born at Wilster in Holstein (Germany), in 1571, he trained in the gymnasium at Hamburg, and later studied philosophy at Rostock. Later he travelled in England and Holland; studied Hebrew and Arabic, and formulated the plan of education which made him famous as a reformer. He attached great value to his plan and expressed great unwillingness to divulge it without adequate remuneration. He made known his contemplated reforms at a diet of the German Empire, held at Frankfort on the 12th of May, 1612. They were threefold: (1) To teach Latin, Greek, or Hebrew, or any other language, to young or old in a very short time; (2) to establish schools in which the arts and sciences should be taught and extended; (3) to introduce a uniform speech throughout the empire, and, at the same time, uniform government and religion. He proposed to follow the order and course of nature, and teach first the mother-tongue, after this Hebrew and Greek, as being the tongues of the original text of the Bible, and, lastly, Latin.

Through the influence of the princes (and more especially by the encouragement of the Duchess Dorothea of Weimar), the plans of Ratke were submitted to a commission selected from the faculties of the universities at Jena and Giessen,—Professors Grawer, Brendel, Walther, and Wolf representing Jena and Professors Helwig and Jung, Giessen. The report was favorable to Ratke. Professor Helwig, who was one of the best linguists of his day, was the spokesman for Giessen, and he accepted Ratke’s views with great enthusiasm. “By diligent reflection and long practice,” he says, “Ratke has discovered a valuable method by which good arts and languages can be taught and studied more easily, quickly, and correctly than has been usual in the schools. Ratke’s method is more practicable in the arts than in the sciences, since arts and sciences are by their nature consistent with themselves, while the languages, on the contrary, by long use have acquired many inaccuracies.”

Professor Helwig commends especially the methodology in Ratke’s plan, and urges that we must consider not only the knowledge to be imparted, but as well the method of imparting knowledge. He says: “Nature does much, it is true, but when art assists her, her work is much more certain and complete. Therefore it is necessary that there should be an especial art to which any one who desires to teach can adhere, so that he shall not teach by mere opinion and guess, nor by native instinct alone, but by the rules of his art; just as he who would speak correctly by the rules of grammar, and he who would sing correctly by the rules of music. This art of teaching, like the art of logic, applies to all languages, arts, and sciences. It discusses among other things how to distinguish among minds and gifts, so that the quicker may not be delayed, and that, on the contrary, those who are by nature not so quick may not remain behind; how and in what order to arrange the exercises; how to assist the understanding; how to strengthen the memory; how to sharpen the intellect without violence and after the true course of nature. This art of teaching, no less than other arts, has its fixed laws and rules, founded not only upon the nature and understanding of man, but upon the peculiarities of languages, arts, and sciences; and it admits of no ways of teaching which are not deduced from sure grounds and founded upon proof.” The Jena professors were no less favorable with regard to this new art of teaching.

The influence of this report on the fame of Ratke was far-reaching. The following year (1614) he was invited to Augsburg to reform the schools of that city. This invitation was the outgrowth of a study of his plan by David Höschel, the principal of St. Anne’s School, and two other teachers appointed by the city to accompany him to Frankfort and aid him in the investigation. They reported that Ratke had so far explained his method to them that they were satisfied and pleased with it; and the invitation to Ratke promptly followed. Beyond a few monographs by the Augsburg disciples, based on his method, and inspired doubtless by his sojourn there, we are altogether without evidence of the success or failure of the reforms at Augsburg.

Early in 1616, Prince Ludwig of Anhalt-Gotha yielded to the persuasions of his sister, the Duchess Dorothea of Weimar, and invited Ratke to Gotha to organize the schools there in accordance with his views. He engaged to organize and supervise the schools and to instruct and train the teachers, but he bound the prince to exact from each teacher a promise not to divulge his method to any one.

A printing-office was established at Gotha to supply the books required by the new order. Fonts of type in six languages were imported from Holland, and four compositors and two pressmen were brought from Rostock and Jena. The people of Gotha were required by the prince to send their children to the schools organized by Ratke. Two hundred and thirty-one boys and two hundred and two girls were enrolled.

The school was graded into six classes. The mother-tongue was taught in the lowest classes; Latin was begun in the fourth, and Greek in the sixth. He required that the teacher in the lowest class should be a man of kind manners, and that he need know no language but the German. This scandalized the whole German nation. A schoolmaster ignorant of Latin! Critics appeared from the first with the most cogent reasons for distrusting the “new methods.” But Ratke had the confidence of the prince, and all went merrily for a time. The instruction was simplified; and, besides the mother-tongue, arithmetic, singing, and religion were taught.

But he encountered numerous obstacles at Gotha: the teachers of the town, it would appear, did not fully share his views; the town adhered to the Reformed Church and Ratke was a Lutheran,—a fact which caused no end of trouble; and the prince was not altogether satisfied with the fulfilment of Ratke’s promises of reform. The pastor of the Reformed Church of Gotha preferred formal charges of heterodoxy against him, and maintained, besides, that Ratke made too little provision for the study of music and the catechism; that too much time was given to recreation; that the discipline was altogether too mild; and that the children were permitted to pass from one study to another too rapidly. Singular charges, these! And the more singular when one recalls the long hours and the harsh discipline of the seventeenth century.

The opposition was strong, and at the end of eighteen months the Gotha experiment was brought to an abrupt close. Ratke was not only dismissed, but was imprisoned on the charge that he “had claimed and promised more than he knew that he could bring to pass.” After spending the best of a year in prison, he signed a declaration in which he assented to the charges. Then the prince released him. He went to Magdeburg, where he was well received by the school authorities; but the ecclesiastical dignitaries of the city were soon at war with him, and he moved on to Rudolstadt, where he was cordially received by the Princess Anna Sophia, wife of Prince Gunther of Swarzburg-Rudolstadt.

Subsequently Oxenstiern, the chancellor of Sweden, sought his services in the reformation of the Swedish schools; but instead of the requested interview, he sent the chancellor a thick quarto. “I accomplished this wearisome labor,” says Oxenstiern; “and after I had read the whole book through, I found that he had not ill displayed the faults of the schools, but his remedies did not seem to me adequate.” Ratke died shortly afterward at the age of sixty-four years.

Ratke’s contribution to education was chiefly in the matter of methodology. His leading principles were: (1) In everything we should follow the order of nature. There is a certain natural sequence along which the human intelligence moves in the acquisition of knowledge. This sequence must be studied, and instruction must be based on a knowledge of it. (2) One thing at a time. Each subject of study should be orderly developed and thoroughly dealt with before proceeding to the next. (3) There should be frequent repetition. It is astonishing what may be accomplished by the frequent repetition of one thing. (4) Everything first in the mother-tongue. The first thinking should always be in the vernacular. Whatever the vocation, the pupil should learn to express himself in the mother-tongue. After the mother-tongue has been mastered, the other languages may be studied. (5) Everything without compulsion. Children cannot be whipped into learning or wishing to learn; by compulsion and blows they are so disgusted with their studies that study becomes hateful to them. Moreover, it is contrary to nature to flog children for not remembering what has been taught them. If they had been properly taught they would have remembered, and blows would have been unnecessary. Children should be taught to love and reverence—not to fear their teachers. (6) Nothing should be learned by rote. Learning by heart weakens the understanding. If a subject has been well developed, and has been impressed upon the mind by frequent repetition, the memory of it will follow without any pains. Frequent hours of recreation are advised; in fact, no two lessons should come immediately together. (7) A definite method (and a uniform method) for all studies. In the languages, arts, and sciences, there must be a conformity in the methods of teaching, text-books used, and precepts given. The German grammar, for instance, must agree with the Hebrew and the Greek as far as the idioms of the language will permit. (8) The thing itself should first be studied, and then whatever explains it. Study first the literature of a language and then its grammar. A basis of material must first be laid in the mind before rules can be applied. He admits that many of the grammars furnish examples with the rules; but these examples “come together from all sorts of authors, like mixed fodder in a manger.” (9) Everything must be learned by experience and examination. Nothing is to be taken on authority. It will be recalled that Ratke visited England after the completion of his studies at Rostock; and it is altogether likely that while there he became a convert to induction and the philosophy of Bacon.

In most particulars Ratke and Comenius were in harmony. Both urged that the study of things should precede or be united with the study of words; that knowledge should be communicated through appeals to the senses; that all linguistic study should begin with the mother-tongue; that methods of teaching should be in accordance with the laws of nature; and that progress in studies should be based not on compulsion, but on the interest aroused in the pupils.

Campanella, Andreæ, and Bateus

Comenius derived many of his philosophic concepts from the Dominican reformer, Thomas Campanella, whose writings influenced him powerfully, at least during his student years at Herborn and Heidelberg. The writings of Campanella convinced him of the unwisdom of the study of nature from the works of Aristotle. Books, Campanella had declared, are but dead copies of life, and are full of error and deception. We must ourselves explore nature and write down our own thoughts, the living mirror which shows the reflection of God’s countenance. These protests against scholasticism found a responsive chord in the thoughts of the young Comenius.

In the preface to the Prodromus Comenius is unreserved in his expression of obligations to his predecessors. “Who, indeed, should have the first place,” he says, “but John Valentine Andreæ, a man of nimble and clear brain.” The court preacher of Stuttgart had strongly impressed Comenius by his deep love for Christian ideals and his warm enthusiasm for their realization in practical life, as well as by his humorous polemics against the dead scholasticism of his day. Comenius incorporates in his Great didactic a brief by Andreæ on “the use of the art of teaching,” in which he maintains (1) that parents up to this time have been uncertain how much to expect from their children; (2) that schoolmasters, the greater number of whom have been ignorant of their art, have exhausted their energies and worn themselves out in their efforts to fulfil their duty; (3) that students should master the sciences without difficulty, tedium, or blows, as if in sport and in merriment; (4) that schools should become places of amusement, houses of delight and attraction, and the work so adjusted that students of whatever capacity might attain a high standard of development; (5) that states should exist for the development of the young; (6) that schools should be so efficient that the Church may never lack learned doctors, and the learned doctors lack suitable hearers; and (7) that the schools may be so reformed that they may give a more exact and universal culture of the intellect, and that Christian youths may be more fervently stirred up to vigor of mind and love of heavenly things. “Let none, therefore,” says Andreæ, “withdraw his thoughts, desires, strength, and resources from such a sacred undertaking. It is inglorious to despair of progress and wrong to despise the counsel of others.”

The obligation of Comenius to William Bateus, the Irish Jesuit, was not great, although he makes free acknowledgment of the same in the Janua. Indeed, the plan of the Janua was well formulated before he knew of the existence of the Jesuit father’s book. He made known the plan of his Janua to some friends, who told him that Bateus had already published a similar work. He was not content until he had procured a copy of the book. “The idea,” says Comenius, “was better than the execution. Nevertheless, as he was the prime inventor, I thankfully acknowledge it, nor will I upbraid him for those errors he has committed.” This willing recognition of his obligation to a wide range of educational writers is proof of the declaration he often made, “I care not whether I act the part of teacher or learner.”

CHAPTER III
BOYHOOD AND EARLY LIFE OF COMENIUS: 1592–1628

Ancestry of Comenius—Attends the village school at Strasnitz—Studies Latin in the gymnasium at Prerau—Character of the Latin schools of his day—Enters the college at Herborn—Studies theology and philosophy—Inspired by the teachings of Alsted—Makes the acquaintance of the writings of Ratke—Continues his studies at Heidelberg—Begins his career as a teacher at Prerau—Ordained as a clergyman—Installed as pastor and school superintendent at Fulneck—Persecution.

Many of the facts concerning the early life of John Amos Comenius are shrouded in obscurity. It is certain, however, that he was born in the village of Nivnitz in Moravia (now a province of Austria) on the 28th day of March, in the year 1592. Nivnitz then, as now, was little more than a country market town and settled quite largely by members of the religious organization known as Moravian Brethren. The father and mother of Comenius, Martin and Anna Komensky, were influential members of the brotherhood, who had settled here some years previous with other followers of John Hus, the Bohemian reformer and martyr. The tradition that Martin Komensky was a miller by trade does not seem to be well authenticated. Besides John Amos, three daughters were born to Martin and Anna Komensky,—Ludmilla, Susanna, and Margaret,—but the three girls died in early childhood.

Martin Komensky died in 1604,[14] and his wife survived him less than a year. Left an orphan at the early age of twelve years, Comenius was intrusted to the care and training of an improvident aunt, who soon made way with his inheritance. In this, as in the neglect of his school training, the incompetence of the foster parent is clearly apparent. For something more than four years the lad attended the village school at Strasnitz. But, as he himself tells us, the curriculum was narrow and the teaching poor. While here Comenius formed the acquaintance of a schoolfellow named Nicholas Drabik, through whose prophetic visions he was so ignominiously led astray in his later life, and so bitterly reproached by his contemporaries. “It was a strange irony of fate,” remarks Mr. Keatinge, “that a wanderer like Comenius, when only eleven years old and in his native land, should commence the intimacy that was to embitter his old age in Amsterdam.” But, as Benham notes, the fact that the matter was so soon forgotten shows that the character of Comenius received no indelible stain by the unfortunate alliance, even though he excited the ridicule and disrespect, and even the contempt, of his contemporaries.

At the advanced age of sixteen years, he was initiated into the mysteries of classical learning in the Latin school at Prerau, where he studied for two years. A fairly accurate notion of his studies during this period may be gained from a glance at the course of study in a contemporary Latin school herewith reproduced in translation from the Bohemian.[15] The schedule of hours in the second grade of this school was as follows: In the morning, during the first hour, repetition of grammar lesson from memory and explanation of the next day’s grammar lesson. During the second hour, the dialogues of Castalio; and the third hour, the recitation of Castalio’s dialogues in the Bohemian, and the grammatical analysis of the words and conversation of the lesson. In the afternoon, during the first hour, writing and singing; the second hour, explanation of the writings of Cicero according to Sturm’s edition, and grammatical analysis; and the third hour, exercises in words and sayings. This was the programme for Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. On Wednesdays there was but one lesson in the morning and one in the afternoon. In the morning the catechism was recited; in addition, imitative exercises for the formation of style. In the afternoon, the writing of short words and a recapitulation of the week’s lessons.

The programme for the third grade was as follows: In the forenoon of Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays:—

First hour.—Repetition of Latin rules in the mother-tongue.

Second hour.—Exposition of the conversations of John Lewis Vives.

Third hour.—Repetition of the above, and Bohemian exercises from the text.

In the afternoon of the same days, first hour, writing and singing; second hour, Greek grammar and the collected writings of John Sturm; and third hour, exposition of Greek proverbs from the New Testament, together with grammatical analysis of the same. This class had for its forenoon lesson on Wednesdays the catechism and exercises in the Bohemian, and in the afternoon singing and writing. In the summer the more industrious pupils were excused from the lessons on Wednesday afternoons.

One period on Saturday was devoted to a weekly review; and on Sunday morning a chapter was read from the New Testament, the same explained in Greek (to all grades above the second), and all the students attended church. In the afternoon there was preaching again and more reading from the New Testament.

Such we may suppose to have been the character of his studies at Prerau during the two years from 1608 to 1610. Because of his maturity, he appreciated most keenly the faults of current humanistic methods of teaching. As one of his biographers remarks: “The defects of this early education were the seeds from which sprang the whole of his didactic efforts. Considerably older than his school-fellows, he was able to criticise the methods and speedily arrive at the conclusion that the lack of progress was due more to the inefficiency of the teachers than to the idleness of their pupils. From this time onward, he began to devise new methods of class instruction and better schemes of study. From the vivid memory of the horrors through which he had passed, of the thousand and one rules that had to be learned by rote before they were understood, of the monotonous study of grammar, only diversified by the maddening effort to translate Latin authors without the assistance of suitable dictionaries or commentaries, sprang that intense sympathy with beginners which characterizes his whole life and gives practical worth to every precept that he enunciated.”

After two years in the Latin school at Prerau, he entered the college at Herborn on the 30th of March, 1611. The University of Prague was at this time in the hands of the Utraquists, whose unfriendly attitude toward the Moravian Brethren led to the selection of a German university for his higher course of instruction. He had determined to qualify for the ministry, and the institution at Herborn at this time afforded unusual opportunities for the study of theology. Doubtless another factor in the selection of Herborn was the fact that John Henry Alsted, one of the most distinguished theological and philosophical professors of the day, was lecturing there, and aspiring youths of the temperament of Comenius naturally gravitated toward this centre of fresh thought. Although but four years older than Comenius, Alsted was the most commanding figure in the academic circles of Europe at this time. He had travelled extensively; had made the acquaintance of most of the learned men in Europe worth knowing; and had advocated views of education which were new and startling.

For twenty-seven years Herborn had enjoyed unprecedented academic prosperity. Opportunities for the study of education were unexcelled; for, connected with the college, there was a preparatory department which served as a laboratory for the study of pedagogic problems, in which, for example, the lower classes were instructed in the mother-tongue—a procedure that was regarded as ultra-heterodox at this time.

Comenius was most helped by the instruction of the distinguished theologian and philosopher, Professor John Henry Alsted. The teachings of Alsted were of a character calculated to deepen the convictions of the young student from Moravia, for the Herborn professor taught among other things—as is indicated by his Encyclopædia of the sciences, published a few years later—the following: (1) Not more than one thing should be taught at a time; (2) not more than one book should be used on one subject, and not more than one subject should be taught on one day; (3) everything should be taught through the medium of what is more familiar; (4) all superfluity should be avoided; (5) all study should be mapped out in fixed periods; (6) all rules should be as short as possible; (7) everything should be taught without severity, though discipline must be maintained; (8) corporal punishment should be reserved for moral offences, and never inflicted for lack of industry; (9) authority should not be allowed to prejudice the mind against the facts gleaned from experience, nor should custom or preconceived opinion prevail; (10) the construction of a new language should first be explained in the vernacular; (11) no language should be taught by means of grammar; (12) grammatical terms should be the same in all languages. “The teacher,” said Alsted, “should be a skilled reader of character, so that he may be able to classify the dispositions of his pupils. Unless he pays great attention to differences of disposition, he will but waste all the efforts he expends in teaching.”

Another professor of philosophy at Herborn at the time was Heinrich Gutberleth, who was likewise deeply interested in pedagogy and whose lectures seem to have influenced Comenius, with special reference to his advocacy of the study of the physical sciences. In theology he heard lectures by Piscator, Hermannus, and Pasor. Since 1530 the schools of Nassau had been marked by great improvement, and this improvement was in no small measure due to the intelligent interest of the professors of theology at Herborn in the schools of the province. Hermannus, with whom Comenius studied practical theology, was especially active in school reform.

It was during his student life at Herborn that Comenius became acquainted with Ratke’s plan of instruction, then much discussed at university centres, and especially at Jena, Giessen, and Herborn. However much he may have been stimulated to educational reform by his own belated classical training and by the pedagogic character of the work at Herborn, the writings of Ratke, as he himself tells us, played the largest part in making him an educational reformer. While at Herborn he gave special attention to the Bohemian language, and planned a dictionary which was never published.

Comenius left Herborn in the spring of 1613; and after a few weeks’ sojourn at Amsterdam he repaired to Heidelberg, where he matriculated as a student of philosophy and theology on the 13th of June. Beyond the fact that he purchased a manuscript of Copernicus, and that at the end of a year, his funds becoming exhausted, he was forced to make the return journey to Prague on foot, nothing is known of his life at Heidelberg.

Back in his native country after these years of study and travel in Germany, he was still too young by two years for ordination in the brotherhood. Meanwhile he turned his attention to education, and engaged himself as a teacher in the elementary school at Prerau conducted by the Moravian Brethren. This experience brought him face to face with problems of methodology and discipline, and gave him an opportunity to apply some of the theories he had formulated while a student at Herborn. His attention was at once called to the ineffective methods employed in teaching Latin, for the remedy of which he prepared an easy Latin book for beginners.

His ordination took place at Zerwick on the 29th day of April, 1616, although he continued teaching at Prerau for two years longer, when he was called to the pastorate of the flourishing Moravian church at Fulneck. At the same time, or shortly thereafter, he was elected superintendent of the schools of the town. In this twofold capacity he ministered to the spiritual and educational needs of Fulneck for three years, and passed the only tranquil and happy years of his life. But the year that ushered in this prosperous career witnessed the outbreak of the Thirty Years’ War.

In 1621 Fulneck was sacked by the Spaniards, and the conquering force gave itself up to destruction that baffles description. Houses were pillaged, including the residence of Comenius, and he lost all his property, including his library and the manuscripts of several educational treatises, on the composition of which he had spent years of labor.

From this time on, the Moravian Brethren were exposed to the most relentless persecutions. Many were executed, and others took refuge in caves in the wilderness or on the secluded estates of wealthy sympathizers. For three years Comenius found an asylum on the estate of Karl von Zerotin. The death of his wife and children (for he had married while at Fulneck) added to the afflictions of his exile; but he sought relief from his sorrow in literary work—the composition of a metrical translation of the Psalms, an allegorical description of life, and the construction of a highly meritorious map of Moravia.

The persecution of the enemies rendered concealment no longer possible; and, although Karl von Zerotin was held in high regard by Ferdinand II, in 1624 the imperial mandate was issued which banished the evangelical clergy from the country. For a time Comenius and several of his brethren secreted themselves from their merciless pursuers on the Bohemian mountains, in the citadel of Baron Sadowsky, near Slaupna. But the edict of 1627 put an end to further protection of the Moravian clergy by the nobles; and in January, 1628, Comenius and many of his compatriots, including his late protector, Baron Sadowsky, set out for Poland. On the mountain frontier which separates Moravia from Silesia, one gets an excellent view of Fulneck and the surrounding country. Here the band of exiles knelt and Comenius offered up an impassioned prayer for his beloved Moravia and Bohemia. This was his last sad look on his devoted country. He never afterward beheld the land of his fathers, but for more than half a century he lived an exile in foreign regions. Well might he, in his old age, exclaim: “My whole life was merely the visit of a guest; I had no fatherland.”

CHAPTER IV
CAREER AS AN EDUCATIONAL REFORMER: 1628–1656

Flight to Poland—Appointed director of the gymnasium at Lissa—Reforms introduced—Literary projects—Need of a patron—Call to England—Friendship with Hartlib—Interest of the English Parliament—Discontent with existing educational institutions—Lewis de Geer, his Dutch patron—Call to Sweden—Interview with Oxenstiern—Located at Elbing—Reform of the Swedish schools—Return to Poland—Consecration as senior bishop—Consequences of the treaty of Westphalia—Ecclesiastical ministrations—Call to Hungary—Reform of the schools at Saros-Patak—Plan of a pansophic school—Return to Lissa—The city burned—Flight of Comenius from Poland.

After the flight from Bohemia, Comenius and his compatriots found a refuge at Lissa, Poland, with Count Raphael, a powerful prince of the faith of the Moravian Brethren, to whose estate hundreds of persecuted Bohemians had already fled. Twelve years were passed in Lissa, during which time Comenius was actively engaged in educational reform. Besides the composition of three of his most important books—the Janua, in 1631, the Great didactic, probably in 1632, and the School of infancy, in 1633—he engaged actively in the work of teaching. A secondary school of acknowledged repute had been maintained in Lissa by the Moravian Brethren since 1555, and here Comenius found the opportunity of putting into practice some of his educational theories. It is apparent, however, from his writings, that he read widely before undertaking the reorganization of the gymnasium at Lissa, and that he sought aid from all the writers on education, both ancient and modern. His correspondents at this period included such distinguished names as Lubin, Andreæ, Ritter, Vogel, Ratke, Frey, Mencel, Hartlib, Evenius, Johnstone, and Mochinger. To these distinguished contemporaries he expresses his dissatisfaction with current educational practices, and seeks guidance in the reform movement he has instituted in Poland.

“When our people attend school for the sake of the learned languages, what do they bring with them on returning home?” he asks. “What beyond that which they obtain there—the tinkling of human eloquence, the love of disputation, and the knowledge that puffeth up instead of the charity that buildeth up. Moreover, some acquire corrupt morals; some, a desire to make themselves agreeable by a show of external civility; some, habits of intemperance and a distaste or hatred of firm discipline. And yet these very men were trained for the lights of the Church and the pillars of the State. O that, instead of such an education, we had retained the simplicity of childhood. O that we might bring back the ancient custom of the Spartans, who, more than all the other Greeks, were intent upon the rational education of their youth.”

A noteworthy feature of his work as a reformer at Lissa consisted in a careful grading of the schools, and the formulation of a course of study for the successive grades. The guiding principle in this schematization of school work was that each grade should pave the way for the one next higher,—the elements of all subjects of study being comparatively simple, these elements should be gradually introduced and elaborated from grade to grade. These reforms were not only far-reaching, they were revolutionary; and they made possible the modern graded school.

Civilized Europe did not long remain in ignorance of these reforms. They were discussed with approval in England, Germany, France, and Sweden; and several foreign governments sought his services in the work of educational reform. Sweden, in 1638, tendered him a remunerative position and unlimited opportunities of reforming the schools of the kingdom along the lines laid down in his writings. He replied that he was willing to recommend a competent person to undertake the work, but that he was not in position to sever his relations with the Moravian Church in Poland and to leave unfinished some important educational writings.

His own poverty, as well as that of his brethren, made him realize keenly the need of a wealthy patron to aid him in the realization of his educational ideals. “The vastness of the labors I contemplate,” he wrote, “demands that I should have a wealthy patron, whether we look at their extent, or at the necessity of securing assistants, or at the expense generally. I propose to render the study of science, philosophy, and theology more accessible to all parties, and of greater usefulness in the regulation of human affairs than has hitherto been the case. In order to do this, two kinds of books are necessary—(1) for philosophical research and (2) for elementary training.

“Books of the first class would primarily have reference to the Latin language, and of this class I would adopt eight:—

“1. The Vestibulum, or introduction to the Latin tongue.

“2. The Janua, or gate of the Latin tongue.

“3. The Palace, or essentials of the Latin language.

“4. A dictionary giving the meaning of the Latin words in the mother-tongue.

“5. A dictionary giving all the words of the native language in Latin, and more especially supplying phrases of the former language with corresponding phrases in the latter.

“6. A Latin dictionary explaining all the peculiar idioms of the language.

“7. An elementary grammar containing all the declensions and conjugations, and to be used in connection with the Vestibulum.

“8. A more comprehensive grammar, to be used in connection with the Janua.

“The books to be used in connection with elementary training are three:—

“1. Pansophia, or universal wisdom. This book should comprise the sum total of human wisdom, and be so expressed as to meet the requirements of both the present and future ages. The method to be followed in such a book would be to reduce it to certain fundamental principles, beyond the compass of which no part of human knowledge can reach. Such first principles are God, the world, and common sense.

“2. Panhistoria, or universal history. This work must comprehend the most vital facts of all ages. Universal history is a most excellent handmaid of the understanding, searching into the causes of all things, and inquiring into the laws of cause and effect. Instruction in history must be graded. It might be arranged in six classes—Bible history, natural history, history of inventions, history of morals, history of the various religious rites, and general history.

“3. General dogmatics. These have to treat of the different theories taken by human ingenuity, the false as well as the true, thereby preventing a relapse into vain speculations and dangerous errors.

“One man is not able to accomplish an undertaking of such magnitude. There ought to be some clever linguists, perhaps three well versed in philosophy, an able historian, and a man thoroughly acquainted with Biblical literature. As regards the philological labors, I have already met with an excellent assistant in Mr. Wechner. Nor are clever coadjutors wanting for the Pansophia, who have not only offered the treasures of their libraries, but who have offered themselves in their coöperation in this work. Among these my friend Hartlib far excels. I do not know his equal in the extent of his knowledge, his acuteness of reasoning, his zeal to become useful to the welfare of mankind, his fervent love for a philosophy unmixed with errors and fanciful speculations, and his self-denial in order to further the objects in view.”

Such a patron, however, was not at once forthcoming, although it would appear from his letters that Count Bohulslaw of Lissa, whom he styles “the chief in the kingdom of Poland,” was of some pecuniary assistance to him at this time in the development of his theories.

The wide publication of his writings aroused a keen interest in his reforms, and especially in England. Samuel Hartlib, who corresponded extensively with the learned men of Europe, had already translated into English several of the educational writings of Comenius, and in various other ways had interested the English public in the work of the Moravian reformer.

The keen personal interest of Hartlib in the work of Comenius had important temporary consequences on the direction of the reformer’s activities during the next few years. Hartlib at this time was the most interesting figure in English educational history. “Everybody knew him,” says Professor Masson.[16] “He was a foreigner by birth, being the son of a Polish merchant who had left Poland when the country fell under Jesuit rule, and had settled in Elbing in Prussia, in very good circumstances. Twice married before to Polish ladies, this merchant had married in Prussia for his third wife the daughter of a wealthy English merchant at Dantzig; and thus our Hartlib, their son, though Prussian born and with Polish connections, could reckon himself half English. The date of his birth was probably about the beginning of the century. He appears to have first visited England in or about 1628, and from that time, though he made frequent journeys to the continent, London had been his headquarters. Here, with a residence in the city, he carried on business as a merchant, with extensive foreign correspondence, and very respectable family connections. But it did not require such family connections to make Hartlib at home in English society. The character of the man would have made him at home anywhere. He was one of those persons now styled philanthropists, or friends of progress, who take an interest in every question or project of their time promising social improvement, have always some irons in the fire, are constantly forming committees, or writing letters to persons of influence, and live altogether for the public. By the common consent of all who have explored the intellectual and social history of England in the seventeenth century, he is one of the most interesting and memorable figures of that whole period. He is interesting both for what he did himself and on account of the number and intimacy of his contacts with other interesting people.”

Through Hartlib’s influence the English Parliament invited Comenius to England. This was in the summer of 1641. Comenius himself may be permitted to tell how all this came about: “After my Pansophia had been published and dispersed through the various countries of Europe, many learned men approved of the object and plan of the work, but despaired of its ever being accomplished by one man alone, and therefore advised that a college of learned men should be instituted to carry it into effect. Mr. Samuel Hartlib, who had forwarded its publication in England, labored earnestly in this matter, and endeavored by every possible means to bring together for this purpose a number of intellectual men. And at length, having found one or two, he invited me with many strong entreaties. As my friends consented to my departure, I proceeded to London, and arrived there on the autumnal equinox (September the 22d) in the year 1641, and then learned that I had been called thither by an order of the Parliament. But, in consequence of the king having gone to Scotland, the Parliament had been dismissed for three months, and, consequently, I had to winter in London.”

His friends meanwhile examined with more detail his educational views and encouraged him to elaborate his views in a tract, which he named Via lucis, or the way of light. This, as he himself says, was “a national disquisition as to the manner in which wisdom—the intellectual law of minds—may at length toward the evening of the world be felicitously diffused through all minds in all nations.”

Around Comenius Hartlib soon collected a group of thoughtful men interested in the Moravian reformer’s views; and together we may suppose they discussed at length the larger educational problems already formulated by Comenius in his published writings. The group included, besides Hartlib, Mr. John Pell, a mathematician of acknowledged repute; John Milton, the poet and educational writer; Theodor Haak, the expositor of philosophic systems; John Wilkins, the agricultural enthusiast; John Durie, the advocate of evangelical unity; Thomas Farnaby, the schoolmaster at Sevenoaks and one of the English editors of Comenius’ Janua; and probably the American Winthrop, later governor of Connecticut, who was wintering in London. He was delighted with London and the people he met. Writing to friends in Lissa, he says: “I live as a friend among friends; though not so many visit me as would if they knew that I could speak English, or if they had more confidence in their own Latin.”

When Parliament finally convened “and my presence being known,” writes Comenius, “I was commanded to wait until after some important business having been transacted, a commission should be issued to certain wise and learned Englishmen to hear me and be informed of my plan. As an earnest, moreover, of their intentions, they communicated to me their purpose to assign to us a college with revenues, whence some men of learning and industry selected from any nation might be honorably sustained either for a certain number of years or in perpetuity. The Savoy in London, and beyond London, Winchester, and again near the city, Chelsea, were severally mentioned, and inventories of the latter and its revenues were communicated to me; so that nothing seemed more certain than that the designs of Lord Bacon to open a universal college of all nations, devoted solely to the advancement of the sciences, were now in way of being carried into effect.”

Comenius had assumed that when the call to England came to him at Lissa, it simply represented a private movement backed by Hartlib and other influential Englishmen; and he expresses himself in terms of delighted surprise upon arriving in London to find that he had been summoned thither by the Parliament of the realm. The parliamentary sanction of this summons has never been corroborated. Professor Masson made the attempt, but was unable to find in the Lords’ or Commons’ Journal for the years 1641 and 1642 any traces of communication between Comenius and the Parliament of which he speaks. He admits that there may be such corroborative evidence, since the indexes for these years are incomplete. There are, however, no good and sufficient reasons for doubting the word of Comenius in this matter.

There are traces at this period of parliamentary dissatisfaction with current English education, and more particularly with university education in England. Professor Masson thus states the matter: “There had for some time been a tradition of dissatisfaction with the existing state of the universities and the great public schools. In especial, Bacon’s complaints and suggestions in the second book of his De Augmentis had sunk into thoughtful minds. That the universities, by persistence in old and outworn methods, were not in full accord with the demands and needs of the age; that their aims were too professional and particular, and not sufficiently scientific and general; that the order of studies in them was bad, and some of the studies barren; that there ought to be a bold direction of their endowments and apparatus in the line of experimental knowledge, so as to extract from nature new secrets and sciences for which humanity was panting; that, moreover, there ought to be more fraternity and correspondence among the universities of Europe and some organization of their labors, with a view to mutual illumination and collective advancement:—all these Verulamian speculations, first submitted to King James, were lying here and there in English intellects in watch for an opportunity.”

But the time was not yet come for the reform movement in English education. Ireland was in a state of commotion; two hundred thousand Englishmen had been massacred;[17] the sudden departure of the king from London on the 10th of January, 1642, and the prospect of a prolonged civil war convinced Comenius that it would be useless to tarry longer in England. He informed his friends of his disappointment of his plans. Hartlib was hopeful and urged delay, but a call to Sweden, made four years previous, was renewed at this time, and he left London on the 10th of June, in the year 1642.

Lewis de Geer, a rich Dutch merchant and philanthropist, residing at Nordköping, Sweden, had offered to render him financial aid in working out his educational reforms in Sweden. But de Geer’s notions of reform differed widely from those of the English friends. He was less interested in universal research, the founding of pansophic colleges, and the results of original investigation than Hartlib and the Englishmen. What he wanted was better school-books for the children, rational methods of teaching for the teachers, and some intelligent grading of the schools. The English friends were satisfied with the broad generalities of pansophic learning, the unrealized dreams that were so very near the reformer’s heart; the Dutch merchant would be satisfied with nothing less than concrete applications of theories. There is no doubt that Comenius would have preferred lingering in England or going to some place where his cherished pansophic schemes might be given a hearing. But he was human and had organic needs, and he knew that the liberal remuneration offered him by de Geer would avert poverty even though the realization of his pure and exalted pansophic dream was deferred.

“In the history of great renunciations,” says Mr. Keatinge,[18] “surely none is stranger than this. We have a man little past the prime of life, his brain teeming with magnificent, if somewhat visionary, plans for social reform, a mighty power in the community that shaved his religious ideas, and an object of interest even to those who may have shrugged their shoulders at his occasional want of balance. Suddenly he flings his projects to the winds, consigns his darling plans to the dustheap of unrealizable ideas, and retires to a small seaside town—not to meditate, not to give definite form to latent conceptions or to evolve new ones, not to make preparation for the dazzling of intellectual Europe with an octavo of fantastic philanthropy or of philosophic mysticism, but—to write school-books for the little boys in Swedish schools.”

Comenius went from London to Nordköping, where he spent some days in conference with his new patron, Lewis de Geer. He was not to receive a stipulated salary, but to be paid certain sums upon the completion of definite texts, the number and character of the same to be determined by the educational authorities at Stockholm, whither de Geer directed Comenius to go for further orders. In Stockholm he met with Lord Axel Oxenstiern, grand chancellor of the kingdom of Sweden, and Dr. John Skyte, professor of canon and civil law (as well as chancellor) in the University of Upsala. Of this conference Comenius says: “These two exercised me in debate for four days, and chiefly Oxenstiern, that eagle of the north. He inquired into the foundations of both my schemes, the didactic and the pansophic, so searchingly that it was unlike anything that had been done before by any of my learned critics. In the first two days he examined the didactics, with, at length, this conclusion: ‘From an early age,’ said he, ‘I perceived that our method of studies generally in use is a harsh and crude one, but where the root of the trouble was I couldn’t find out. At length having been sent by my king [Gustavus Adolphus], of glorious memory, as ambassador into Germany, I conversed on the subject with various learned men. And when I heard that Wolfgang Ratke was toiling at a reformed method, I had no rest of mind until I had got that gentleman into my presence; but, instead of a talk on the subject, he offered me a big volume in quarto to read. I swallowed that trouble; and, having gone through the book, I noted that he detected not badly the maladies of the schools; but the remedies he proposed did not seem to me sufficient. Yours, Mr. Comenius, rest on firmer foundations.’”[19]

The consultation with Oxenstiern and Skyte continued four days, at the conclusion of which they rendered their decision on his various theories. With reference to his pansophic notions, they saw little of immediate utility to the welfare of mankind. But his didactics they regarded with favor. They urged him to give his attention to the reformation of teaching and the preparation of suitable text-books. While somewhat chagrined at this unsympathetic attitude toward his pansophic theories, and a little surprised to learn that de Geer should be of the same mind, he was forced to acquiesce, not, however, without the earnest solicitations of Hartlib and his English friends not to forsake the cherished pansophic principles.[20]

The town of Elbing, on the Baltic Sea, in West Prussia, was designated by de Geer as a suitable residence for Comenius during the time that he should be in the service of the Swedish educational department. Here he settled, with his family and the assistants de Geer had permitted him to employ at the patron’s expense, in October, 1642. The chief task imposed upon him was the compilation of a series of text-books for use in elementary and secondary schools. But progress was slow; the Swedes became impatient, and de Geer grew restive. In consequence, the relations with his patron soon became strained, and continued so during most of the Elbing period. In reply to a complaint from de Geer, Comenius wrote him in September, 1643: “I compose books and do not merely copy those of others. Our proposed work is not merely a book, but a real treasure for the aiding of whose production my patron will assuredly have no cause for regret.” He admits that he has been diverted from the completion of a work on language teaching by a philosophic treatise which he considers of far greater importance than the details of methodology.

In addition to the philosophic studies, in which de Geer and the Swedes had little or no interest, Comenius dissipated his energies in other ways. When it became generally known that he had located in Elbing, the wealthy patrons of the local high school petitioned the town council to secure him to give weekly lectures to the pupils. In other ways he identified himself with local interests, which diverted his time from his assigned tasks. Moreover, his connection with the Moravian Brethren compelled him to make frequent trips to Poland to attend ecclesiastical conventions and minister to the needs of the scattered brethren. De Geer’s patience must have been sorely tried, for he sent to Elbing, with annoying frequency, to inquire concerning the progress of the work. In reply, Comenius begged his patron have patience; he explained the difficult nature of his labors, and assured him that he was making as much progress as was consistent with the nature of his undertaking.

Toward the close of 1646 he went to Sweden and made a personal report to his patron, covering the four years of his employment. A government committee was appointed to review his work; its report was most favorable to Comenius; and he was urged to get the work in shape for immediate publication. He had prepared during this time, in spite of distractions, a work on language teaching, which treated of its nature, function, and the laws to be observed in language teaching; a lexicon based on these laws; and a series of graded reading books.

At the death of Justinus, the senior bishop of the Moravian Brethren in 1648, Comenius was elected his successor. His new duties made his removal to Lissa necessary, and he took with him the unfinished treatises for the Swedes, and sent them to de Geer as rapidly as he was able to complete them. It caused him no pang of sorrow to sever his connection with the Dutch merchant and the Swedes. For he was isolated at Elbing; his labors were uncongenial, and the remuneration which he received was small. It is apparent from his letters, subsequently written, that it was not merely the Dutchman’s gold that held him to tasks so arduous and uncongenial. He hoped by this connection to secure the moral support of the Swedes in removing from the Moravian Brethren the ban which exiled them from their beloved fatherland.

The treaty of Westphalia, however, shattered this hope. There was not a single stipulation in favor of the exiled brethren. The promises Sweden had made to Comenius in this matter were disregarded. In vain he implored Oxenstiern not to forsake his people. “My people have aided your arms with their weapons, the unceasing offerings of their tears and supplications to God; and now, when they see your success and may rejoice in the hope for a more favorable issue of affairs, they are troubled with dread apprehension lest they should be forsaken.” Later he wrote him: “Of what use is it to us, who are now deprived of every hope of peace, to have assisted you with our tears in obtaining victory; when, although it lay within your power to release us from our prison-house, you surrender us anew into the hands of our oppressors? Of what avail now all those holy evangelical alliances formed by our ancestors, and consecrated with their sacred martyr-blood?”[21] But these importunities were of no avail; for, while equal privileges were granted to the Reformed, Lutheran, and Catholic churches in Germany, in Bohemia, and Moravia, the ritual of the latter alone was established. It was a severe blow to Comenius, as well as to the whole brotherhood of the Moravian Church.

The years 1648 to 1650 were passed in ministrations to the dispersed brethren;[22] he was especially conscientious in the discharge of the duties of his episcopal office; he established more intimate relations between the Polish and Hungarian branches of the Moravian churches; he sought and secured important financial aid for the brotherhood in England, Holland, and Sweden; he secured positions as teachers for many of his exiled countrymen; and induced the University of Oxford to create stipends for Bohemian students. Gindely remarks that at this period there were few European countries in which the protégés of Comenius could not be found in the capacity of private tutors, public school-teachers, artists, or clergymen.

The impoverished condition of the Moravian Church caused Comenius no little concern, and induced him to look with some favor on the numerous calls to important educational posts which came to him from foreign countries. That from the widow of Prince Rakoczy and her son Sigismund was especially tempting. They wanted him to come to Transylvania, Hungary, and reform the school system. A liberal salary was offered, together with complete facilities for the organization of a school system in accordance with his own views—including a printing establishment for the publication of required books. It was further stipulated that he might bring with him ten or a dozen Bohemian youths to be educated at the expense of the prince and his mother. The scattered members of the Moravian Church in Hungary, in the belief that the presence of the bishop in that country would unify the interests of the brotherhood, also urged him to accept the Transylvanian call, at the same time petitioning the general synod to relieve Comenius of his clerical functions at Lissa for a few years.

The Church granted the petition, and Comenius settled in Saros-Patak, in May, 1650. He at once drew up a sketch of a seven-grade school, which he published a year later under the title Plan of a pansophic school. “In scope and breadth of view,” remarks a modern historian, “the scheme was centuries in advance of its time, while many of the suggestions which it contained are but imperfectly carried into effect at the present day.”

The Plan is a detailed course of study with specific directions for the application of the course for the use of teachers. In these directions he explains the great danger of overworking the children; and to avoid this, a rest-pause of a half-hour is provided after each hour’s instruction for free, spontaneous play. After each meal a full hour’s rest is granted. The pupils are to have eight hours of sleep; they are granted a half-holiday on Sundays and Wednesdays, with fortnight vacations at Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide, and a month’s vacation in the summer. This gave a school year of forty-two weeks, with thirty hours for school work in each week. The forenoon instruction was as follows: From 6 to 7 o’clock, religious instruction, including hymns, prayers, and Bible readings. From 7.30 to 8.30, theoretical exposition of the new subject-matter of the day’s lesson; and from 9 to 10, a practical treatment and review of the same. There was music (and mathematics) in the afternoon from 1 to 2; history from 2.30 to 3.30; and composition, with exercises in style, from 4 to 5.

The Plan requires that the seven grades of the school meet in separate rooms, and that a teacher be provided for each grade. In each class, the text-books must be adapted to the capacities of the children. The Vestibulum is the lowest class. Over the door of this room is the motto, “Let no one enter who cannot read.” The room is so decorated that the pictures illustrate the subjects taught in this grade; and, by means of these illustrations, the senses are trained. The pupils are taught short maxims containing the most important rules of conduct, a few common Latin words, the elements of arithmetic, the scales in music, and some short hymns and prayers. Writing and drawing are also taught, and special attention is given to the games of the children.

The Janual is the second class. The motto over the class-room door of this grade is, “Let no one enter who is ignorant of mathematics.” Provided the more common objects mentioned in the Janua cannot be readily obtained, pictures of these objects are hung on the wall. The text-books used are, besides the Janua, the Latin vernacular dictionary and the Janual grammar. In composition, the pupils are exercised in the structure of phrases, sentences, and periods; in religion, they learn the catechism; in mathematics, addition and subtraction and plane figures in geometry. There are more advanced exercises in music; and, as in the preceding grade, the teachers are urged to encourage the plays and games of the children.

The Atrial is the third class. Its motto is, “Let no one enter who cannot speak.” Here Bible readings, in abridged form and suited to the intelligence of the children, are begun. The text-book is the Atrium, together with a grammar of eloquence and a Latin-Latin dictionary. In arithmetic, the pupils master multiplication and division, and in geometry, solid figures. The musical instruction includes harmony and the rudiments of Latin verse. Famous deeds in Biblical narrative furnish the basis of the historic instruction. In composition there are exercises in style, consisting of paraphrasing and the transposition of sentences. Before the pupils are permitted to pass from this grade they must be able to read the Latin authors readily and to converse in the Latin fluently.

The Philosophical is the fourth class, with the motto, “Let no one who is ignorant of history enter here.” The walls are decorated with pictures illustrative of arithmetic, geometry, and physics, and connected with this class-room are a chemical laboratory and a dissecting-room. The religious instruction includes hymns, Psalms, an epitome of the New Testament, and a life of Christ. The text-book is called the Palace of wisdom; in it the genesis of natural phenomena are described. In mathematics, the pupils learn the rules of proportion; they begin the study of trigonometry; also statics, and instruction on musical instruments. Greek is begun, and the pupils study natural history through Pliny and Ælian. Comenius mentions that he does not consider Greek a difficult study; and he thinks it need cause the pupils no alarm, since an exhaustive knowledge of Greek is not required, and the difficulties of the study will be largely overcome by the use of rational methods of teaching.

The fifth class is the Logical. Over the door is the inscription, “Let no one enter who is ignorant of natural philosophy,” and the walls are covered with the rules of logic. The pupils have a Bible manual and a class-book on problems in philosophy. The problems include a survey of things that have been and may be discovered by man; a formal logic explaining the processes of reasoning, and a repertory of such philosophical problems as present themselves to the human mind. In arithmetic, the rules of partnership and allegation are studied; in geometry, mensuration of heights and distances and plane surfaces; in geography, a description of the earth; in astronomy, an account of the heavens; in history, a survey of mechanical inventions. For the formation of a literary style, such historians as Curtius, Cæsar, and Justin are read. The study of Greek is continued, and Isocrates and Plutarch are recommended for reading. Dramatic performances are introduced in the fifth class. Grammar, logic, and metaphysics are represented in conflict, but a reconciliation is finally effected through study.

The sixth is the Political class. Its motto, “Let no one enter who cannot reason.” Sallust, Cicero, Virgil, and Horace are read for style; provision is made for verse writing; attention is given to geography and the parts of astronomy dealing with the planets and the laws of the eclipses; the Bible is read through; more advanced topics in arithmetic and geometry are taken up; the special class-book studied deals with human society and the laws of economics; in Greek the pupils read from Thucydides and Hesiod. Dramatic performances are continued, the degeneration and moral downfall of Solomon being rendered.

The seventh and last grade of the course is the Philosophic. Its motto is, “Let no one enter who is irreligious.” The instruction is of an essentially theological character. On the walls are inscribed numerous mystic symbols illustrative of the hidden wisdom of the Holy Scriptures. The most devotional Psalms and church hymns are used in the school exercises. There are readings from the Scriptures, the works of the most inspired theologians and martyrs, and a résumé of Christian beliefs, duties, and aspirations, all written in the phraseology of the Bible. The text-book of the grade is ultra-religious in character. It includes (1) an account of the earthly and heavenly revelations of God; (2) a commentary for Scriptural reading; and (3) a detailed account of the mysteries of salvation. In arithmetic, the sacred and mystic numbers that occur in the Scriptures; in architecture, the sacred structures as exemplified by Noah’s ark, the tabernacle, and the Temple; in history, the general history of the Church; and in ancient language, Hebrew takes the place of Greek—this, that the students may be able to read and understand the Scriptures in the original text. Oratory is studied that those who become preachers may know how to address a congregation, and that those who engage in politics may know how to reason with their hearers.

Such is a condensed survey of the course of study which Comenius devised for the schools at Saros-Patak; and in no small degree his reputation as a reformer rests upon this piece of work. For the Saros-Patak Plan became a model for educators in many lands, and the progenitor of a long line of graded schemes of instruction which constitute such an essential feature of the educational economy of to-day. Not only were subjects of study graded in accordance with the laws of the development of child-mind, but text-books were graded as well. Moreover, the scheme made necessary the employment of teachers who comprehended the character of the work, and, more particularly, those with some appreciation of the natural history of the child and the causes which condition its growth. Little as Comenius understood psychology, at least in the modern use of that term, he was alive to the fact that in childhood the senses are keenest, and that the line of least resistance in the acquisition of new impressions is through (1) objects, (2) pictures, and (3) interesting verbal descriptions in the mother-tongue.

His labors at Saros-Patak terminated at the close of the fourth year, during which time the first three grades of the Plan were organized. All contemporary evidence confirms the success of the scheme. Although so marked a departure from traditional educational practices, it succeeded to a degree that must have been surprising even to Comenius himself. The fact that the teachers in the schools were trained under Comenius at Lissa did much, doubtless, to remove otherwise possible frictions.

But careful gradation was not the only marked reform carried out at Saros-Patak during this period. Pictures were introduced as aids in teaching, and the first child’s picture book, the first of a long line of books so popular in our own day, was written. This was the famous Orbis pictus, to be discussed in a subsequent chapter.

Comenius returned to Lissa in 1654, to resume his ecclesiastical labors. But his sojourn was brief; for, with the invasion of Poland by the Swedes, came the fall and conflagration of the city. Comenius escaped, “almost in a state of nudity,” to use his own words. He had not only lost his property and his library in the conflagration, but he had sustained a yet greater loss in the burning of his numerous manuscripts, and, more important (to him) than all the others, his entire pansophic work, on the composition of which he had labored so arduously for many years. Writing to Montanus, he says, “The loss of this work I shall cease to lament only when I cease to breathe.” He escaped from Lissa to Silesia, where he found refuge for a time in the home of a nobleman. He shortly afterward pushed on to Frankfort, but not feeling secure here he moved to Hamburg, where for two months he was prostrated by a severe illness.

CHAPTER V
CLOSING YEARS: 1656–1670

Flight to Amsterdam—Reception by Lawrence de Geer—Religious freedom in Holland—Publication of the complete edition of his writings—Other educational activities—The “One thing needful”—Death at Amsterdam and burial at Naärden—Family history of Comenius—Alleged call to the presidency of Harvard College—Portraits—Personal characteristics.

During his last year’s residence at Saros-Patak, Comenius had sustained a great loss in the death of his friend and former patron, Lewis de Geer. In a funeral oration which he composed, he characterized his benefactor as “a man pious toward God, just toward men, merciful to the distressed, and meritoriously great and illustrious among all men.” The rich Dutch merchant bequeathed his estates to his son, Lawrence de Geer of Amsterdam; and not only his estates, but also his deep interest in the welfare of the Moravian reformer.

Learning of the severe illness of Comenius, Lawrence de Geer wrote him to leave Hamburg and come directly to Amsterdam, where all the needs of his closing years would be provided. The younger de Geer, it would seem, had not only a real and profound affection for the aged Comenius, but also a keen and intelligent interest in all his schemes for educational reform.

Amsterdam proved, indeed, a haven of rest to the weary wanderer. At this time the city enjoyed greater religious freedom than perhaps any other city in Europe. Says Benham: “Comenius found himself in the midst of a community then enjoying the largest amount of religious toleration to be found anywhere in Europe, and with it a great diversity of religious opinions. Unitarians expelled from their own countries here united themselves to the friends of speculative philosophy among the Remonstrants and Arminians; and the philosophy of Descartes here found admirers even among the members of the Reformed Church. The truly evangelical Comenius had become known to many through his writings, which, together with the influence of his patron’s son, Lawrence de Geer, who continued his father’s benevolence, induced rich merchants to intrust him with the education of their sons; so that, with the additions accruing from his literary labors, Comenius found a supply of food and raiment, and was thereby content.”

In spite of his advanced age, these closing years of his life at Amsterdam were busy ones; for besides ministering to the needs of the scattered and disheartened ecclesiastics of the Moravian Brethren, he engaged somewhat in private teaching, and saw through the press a complete edition of his educational writings. It was a magnificent volume of more than a thousand pages, and was printed by Christopher Cunard and Gabriel à Roy under the title All the didactical works of J. A. Comenius.

The publication of this handsome folio, containing all his educational writings, was made possible by the generosity of Lawrence de Geer. The first part of the folio, written between 1627 and 1642, contains (1) a brief narration of the circumstances which led the author to write these studies; (2) the Great didactic, showing the method of teaching all things; (3) the School of infancy, being an essay on the education of youth during the first six years; (4) an account of a six-class vernacular school; (5) the Janua; (6) the Vestibulum; (7) David Vechner’s Model of a temple of Latinity; (8) a didactic dissertation on the quadripartite study of the Latin language; (9) the circle of all the sciences; (10) various criticisms on the same; (11) explanations of attempts at pansophy.

The second part of the folio, written between 1642 and 1650, contains (1) new reasons for continuing to devote attention to didactic studies; (2) new methods of studying languages, built upon didactic foundations; (3) vestibule of the Latin language adapted to the laws of the most recent methods of language teaching; (4) new gate of the Latin language exhibiting the structure of things and words in their natural order; (5) a Latin and German introductory lexicon explaining a multitude of derived words; (6) a grammar of the Latin and vernacular, with short commentaries; (7) treatise on the Latin language of the Atrium; (8) certain opinions of the learned on these new views of language teaching.

The third part of the work, written between 1650 and 1654, contains (1) a brief account of his call to Hungary; (2) a sketch of the seven-class pansophic school; (3) an oration on the culture of innate capacities; (4) an oration on books as the primary instruments in the cultivation of innate capacities; (5) on the obstacles to the acquisition of encyclopædic culture and some means of removing these obstacles; (6) a short and pleasant way of learning to read and understand the Latin authors; (7) on scholastic erudition; (8) on driving idleness from the schools; (9) laws for a well-regulated school; (10) the Orbis pictus; (11) on scholastic play; (12) valedictory oration delivered on the occasion of the completion of his labors at Saros-Patak; (13) funeral oration on the life and character of Lewis de Geer.

The fourth part of the work represents the years from 1654 to 1657. It contains (1) an account of the author’s didactic studies; (2) a little boy to little boys, or all things to all; (3) apology for the Latinity of Comenius; (4) the art of wisely reviewing one’s own opinions; (5) exits from scholastic labyrinths into the open plain; (6) the formation of a Latin college; (7) the living printing-press, or the art of impressing wisdom compendiously, copiously, and elegantly, not on paper, but on the mind; (8) the best condition of the mind; (9) a devout commendation of the study of wisdom.

In addition to his literary labors, he gave much time to the administration of church affairs; for Lissa had risen from her ashes and was more prosperous than before the war. Here congregated again many adherents of the Moravian brotherhood, and the college was rebuilt and resumed its beneficent pedagogic influence. From this centre the Moravian influence spread anew to many parts of Europe. England, Prussia, and other Protestant countries were generous in their contributions toward the restoration of Moravian churches. All this money was sent to Comenius at Amsterdam, and by him apportioned to the scattered brethren. He received thirty thousand dollars from England alone during the years 1658 and 1659; the only stipulation made in the disposition of the money was that a portion of it should be used for the printing of Polish and Bohemian Bibles. The last years of his life were occupied almost wholly in such ministrations.

He published in 1668 his swan song, the One thing needful. This is his farewell address to the world. It delineates in a forceful yet modest way his aspirations for educational reform, gives expression of the deep faith which sustained him during the long years of his weary pilgrimage, and burns with enthusiastic zeal for the welfare of mankind—the burning passion of his life. He was well prepared at the advanced age of seventy-six years to sum up the experience of a long and afflicted life.

A few citations from this touching bit of reminiscence will hint at the motives which actuated him in his life-work as an educational reformer. “I thank God that I have been all my life a man of aspirations; and although He has brought me into many labyrinths, yet He has so protected me that either I have soon worked my way out of them, or He has brought me by His own hand to the enjoyment of holy rest. For the desire after good, if it is always in the heart, is a living stream that flows from God, the fountain of all good. The blame is ours if we do not follow the stream to its source or to its overflow into the sea, where there is fulness and satiety of good.”

“One of my chief employments has been the improvement of schools, which I undertook and continued for many years from the desire to deliver the youth in the schools from the labyrinth in which they are entangled. Some have held this business foreign to a theologian, as if Christ had not connected together and given to his beloved disciple Peter at the same time the two commands, ‘Feed my sheep’ and ‘Feed my lambs.’ I thank Christ for inspiring me with such affection toward his lambs, and for regulating my exertions in the form of educational works. I trust that when the winter of indifference has passed that my endeavors will bring forth some fruit.”

“My life here was not my native country, but a pilgrimage; my home was ever changing, and I found nowhere an abiding resting place. But now I see my heavenly country near at hand, to whose gates my Saviour has gone before me to prepare the way. After years of wandering and straying from the direction of my journey, delayed by a thousand extraneous diversions, I am at last within the bounds of the promised land.”

The rest and peace and glory which he so hopefully anticipated came to him at Amsterdam on the 15th of November, in the year 1670. His remains were conveyed to Naärden, a small town on the Zuyder Zee, twelve miles east of Amsterdam, where they were interred in the French Reformed Church, on the 22d of November. The figure 8 was the only epitaph placed on his tomb. More than a century afterward the church was transformed into a military barracks, and for many years the date of his death, the church in which he was buried, and the grave inclosing his remains were unknown. But in 1871 Mr. de Röper, a lawyer residing in Naärden, found among his father’s papers the church register, the sexton’s account book, and other documents relating to the old French Reformed Church. After the figure 8, in the church register, was this entry: “John Amos Comenius, the famous author of the Janua Linguarum; interred the 22d of November, 1670.” A diligent search was instituted, and the grave was found. An aged woman residing in Naärden recalled the location of the French Reformed Church as the present site of the barracks. By permission of the commanding officer, an examination was made and the tombstone marked 8 was found. The remains were subsequently removed to a little park in Naärden, where there was erected to his memory, in 1892, by friends of education in Europe and America, a handsome monument. This consists of a pyramid of rough stones with two white marble slabs containing gold-furrowed inscriptions in Latin, Dutch, and Czech (Bohemian): “A grateful posterity to the memory of John Amos Comenius, born at Nivnitz on the 28th of March, 1592; died at Amsterdam on the 15th of November, 1670; buried at Naärden on the 22d of November, 1670. He fought a good fight.” A room in the town hall at Naärden has been set aside as a permanent Comenius museum, where will be found a collection of his portraits, sets of the different editions of his writings, and the old stone slab containing the figure 8.

The present work being an educational rather than a personal life of Comenius, no reference has thus far been made to his family life. It may be noted briefly that he married, in 1624, Elizabeth Cyrrill, with whom he had five children, a son (Daniel) and four daughters. Elizabeth died in 1648 and he married again on the 17th of May, 1649, Elizabeth Gainsowa, with whom he appears to have had no children. A third marriage is mentioned by some of his biographers, but the statement lacks corroboration. One daughter, Elizabeth, married Peter Figulus Jablonsky, who was bishop of the Church from November, 1662, until his death, January the 12th, 1670. Their son Daniel Ernst Jablonsky was consecrated a bishop of the Polish branch of the Moravian Church at Lissa March the 10th, 1699. He served the Church until his death, May the 25th, 1741.

An account of the life of Comenius would be incomplete without some reference to his alleged call to the presidency of Harvard College. This rests upon an unconfirmed statement by Cotton Mather. In his Magnalia[23] he says: “Mr. Henry Dunster continued the Praesident of Harvard-College until his unhappy Entanglement in the Snares of Anabaptism fill’d the Overseers with uneasie Fears, lest the Students by his means should come to be Ensnared: Which Uneasiness was at length so signified unto him, that on October 24, 1654, he presented unto the Overseers, an Instrument under his Hands, wherein he Resigned his Presidentship and they accepted his Resignation. That brave Old Man Johannes Amos Commenius, the Fame of whose Worth has been Trumpetted as far as more than Three Languages (whereof every one is Endebted unto his Janua) could carry it, was agreed withall, by our Mr. Winthrop in his Travels through the Low Countries to come over into New England and Illuminate this College and Country in the Quality of a President. But the Solicitations of the Swedish Ambassador, diverting him another way, that Incomparable Moravian became not an American.”

The following evidence makes improbable this call:—

1. Some years ago the writer asked Professor Paul H. Hanus to ascertain for him if the records of Harvard College corroborated Mather’s statement. After examining the proceedings of the overseers and all other records of the college during its early history, he reported that he could not find the slightest corroboration of Mather’s statement, and that he seriously doubted its accuracy.

2. The historians of the college—Peirce, Quincy, and Eliot—do not allude to the matter. And President Josiah Quincy,[24] in his complete and standard history of the institution, refers to the “loose and exaggerated terms in which Mather and Johnson, and other writers of that period, speak of the early donations to the college, and the obscurity, and not to say confusion, in which they appear in the first records of the seminary.”

3. Careful examination has been made of the numerous lives of Comenius printed in the German language, as well as those printed in the Czech; and, although less noteworthy distinctions are recorded, there is no mention of a call to Harvard College or America.

4. In the Journals of Governor John Winthrop of Massachusetts, there are no allusions to Comenius. Governor Winthrop died in 1649; and it was not until 1653 that President Dunster fell “into the briers of Antpædo-baptism,” when he bore “public testimony in the church at Cambridge against the administration of baptism to any infant whatsoever.” And the historians of the college report that up to this time (1653) Dunster’s administration had been singularly satisfactory, so that there could have been no thought of providing his successor before the death of Governor Winthrop. Mather is either in error or he does not refer to Governor Winthrop of Massachusetts. He may refer to Governor Winthrop of Connecticut, the eldest son of the Massachusetts governor, although evidence is wanting to show that the Connecticut governor had anything to do with the management of Harvard College. Young Winthrop was in England from August the 3d, 1641, until the early part of 1643. It will be recalled that Comenius spent the winter of 1641–1642 in London, and the fact that both knew Hartlib most intimately would suggest that they must have met. In a letter which Hartlib wrote to Winthrop after the latter’s return to America, he says, “Mr. Comenius is continually diverted by particular controversies of Socinians and others from his main Pansophical Worke.”[25]

5. Mather is clearly in error in regard to the date of the call of Comenius to Sweden. The negotiations were begun in 1641 and were completed in August of the next year, so that the “solicitations of the Swedish Ambassador diverting him another way” took place more than twelve years before the beginning of the troubles at Cambridge which led to the resignation of Dunster.

With so many flaws in Mather’s statement, and the absence of corroborative evidence, it seems altogether improbable that Comenius was ever called to the presidency of Harvard College.[26]

In closing, brief mention may be made of his most dominant physical and personal characteristics. Several excellent portraits of Comenius are in existence, the best perhaps being by Hollar and Glover. From these it is apparent that he was a man of imposing figure, with high forehead, long chin, and soft, pathetic eyes. It is not difficult to read into his sad, expressive countenance the force of the expression in his last published utterance, “My whole life was merely the visit of a guest; I had no fatherland.”

There is no conflicting evidence on the personal life of the reformer; but rather unanimous agreement on the sweetness and beauty of his character. Says Palacky: “In his intercourse with others, Comenius was in an extraordinary degree friendly, conciliatory, and humble; always ready to serve his neighbor and sacrifice himself. His writings, as well as his walk and conversation, show the depth of his feeling, his goodness, his uprightness, and his fear of God. He never cast back upon his opponents what they meted out to him. He never condemned, no matter how great the injustice which he was made to suffer. At all times, with fullest resignation, whether joy or sorrow was his portion, he honored and praised the Lord.” Raumer says of him: “Comenius is a grand and venerable figure of sorrow. Wandering, persecuted, and homeless during the terrible and desolating Thirty Years’ War, he never despaired, but, with enduring and faithful truth, labored unceasingly to prepare youth by a better education for a better future. His unfailing aspirations lifted up in a large part of Europe many good men prostrated by the terrors of the times and inspired them with the hope that by pious and wise systems of education there might be reared up a race of men more pleasing to God.” Well might Herder say: “Comenius was a noble priest of humanity, whose single end and aim in life was the welfare of all mankind.”

CHAPTER VI
PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION

The Great didactic—Conditions under which produced—Aim of the book. Purpose of education—Man’s craving for knowledge—Youth the time for training—Private instruction undesirable—Education for girls as well as boys—Uniform methods. Education according to nature—How nature teaches—Selection and adaptation of materials—Organization of pupils into classes—Correlation of studies. Methods of instruction—Science—Arts—Language—Morals—Religion. Types of educational institutions—The mother’s school—School of the mother-tongue—Latin school—University. School discipline—Character and purpose of discipline—Corporal punishment only in cases of moral perversity.

The Great Didactic

Most comprehensive of all of the educational writings of Comenius is the Great didactic. It was planned in 1628, while yet in the full possession of his vigor, before misfortune had hampered his usefulness and persecution had made him a wanderer. Written originally in the Czech, it was translated into the Latin and published at Amsterdam in 1657. The original Czech manuscript was discovered at Lissa in 1841, and presented to the museum at Prague; but the Austrian censors of the press forbade its publication because Comenius was a Bohemian exile (!). Through the exertions of the museum authorities, however, it was allowed to be printed in 1849. Professor Laurie gave English readers a summary of the Great didactic in his Life and educational works of John Amos Comenius (London, 1883); but the first complete translation was made by Mr. M. W. Keatinge of Edinburgh in 1896.

The full title is: The great didactic setting forth the whole art of teaching all things to all men; or a certain inducement to found such schools in all parishes, towns, and villages of every Christian kingdom that the entire youth of both sexes, none being excepted, shall quickly, pleasantly, and thoroughly become learned in the sciences, pure in morals, trained in piety, and in this manner instructed in all things necessary for the present and future life, in which, with respect to everything that is suggested, its fundamental principles are set forth from the essential nature of the matter, its truth is proved by examples, from the several mechanical arts its order is clearly set forth in years, months, days, and hours; and finally an easy and sure method is shown by which it can be pleasantly brought into existence.

The purpose of the Great didactic, as announced by Comenius in the preface, is to seek and find a method of instruction by which teachers may teach less, but learners may learn more; schools may be the scene of less noise, aversion, and useless labor, but of more leisure, enjoyment, and solid progress; the Christian community have less darkness, perplexity, and dissension, but more light, peace, and rest. He promises in his “greeting” an “art of teaching all things to all men, and of teaching them with certainty, so that the result cannot fail.” Among the uses of such an art he notes the advantage (1) to parents, that they may know that if correct methods have been employed with unerring accuracy, it is impossible that the desired result should not follow; (2) to teachers, who, without a knowledge of this art, try in turn first one plan and then another—a course which involves a tedious waste of time and energy; and (3) to schools, that they may become places of amusement, houses of delight and attraction, and that they may cause learning to flourish. Such, in brief, are fundamental principles of a philosophy of education. How well those principles were elaborated and applied will be seen in the exposition of his writings which follows.

Purpose of Education

The opening chapters of the Great didactic treat of man as the highest, the most absolute, and the most excellent of created beings: of the life beyond as man’s ultimate end, and of this life as merely a preparation for eternity. The human being passes through three stages in his preparation for eternity—he learns to know himself, to rule himself, and to direct himself to God. Man’s natural craving is for knowledge,—learning, virtue, piety,—and the seeds of knowledge are implanted in every rational creature. The mind of man is unlimited in its aspirations. “The body is enclosed by small boundaries; the voice roams within wider limits; the sight is bounded only by the vault of heaven; but for the mind, neither in heaven nor anywhere outside of heaven can a boundary be fixed for it.”

Man delights in harmony; and, as respects both his mind and his body, he is a harmony. Just as the great world itself is like an immense piece of clockwork, put together with many wheels and bells, and arranged with such art that, throughout the whole structure, one part depends upon another through the harmony and perfection of the movements—so it is with man. All this harmony and perfection is made possible through education.

He gave no bad definition, remarks Comenius, who said that man was a “teachable animal.” But he must be taught, since he is born only with aptitudes. Before he can sit, stand, walk, or use his hands, he requires instruction. It is the law of all created things that they develop gradually and ultimately reach a state of perfection. Plato was right when he said, “If properly educated, man is the gentlest and most divine of created beings; but if left uneducated or subjected to a false training, he is the most intractable thing in the world.”

Education is necessary for all classes of society; and this is the more apparent when we consider the marked individual differences to be found among human beings. No one doubts that the stupid need instruction that they may outgrow their stupidity. But clever and precocious minds require more careful instruction than dull and backward minds; since those who are mentally active, if not occupied with useful things, will busy themselves with what is useless, curious, and pernicious. Just as a millstone grinds itself away with noise if wheat is not supplied, so an active mind, if void of serious things, entangles itself with vain, curious, and noxious thoughts, and becomes the cause of its own destruction.

The time for education is in early youth.[27] God has, accordingly, made the years of childhood unsuitable for anything but education; and this matter was interposed by the deliberate intent of a wise Providence. Youth is a period of great plasticity. It is in the nature of everything that comes into being to bend and form easily while tender; but when the plastic period has passed to alter only with great difficulty. If one wishes to become a good tailor, writer, or musician, he must apply himself to his art from his earliest youth, during the period when his imagination is most active and when his fingers are most flexible. Only during the years of childhood is it possible to train the muscles to do skilled work. If, then, parents have the welfare of their children at heart, and if the good of the human race be dear to the civil and ecclesiastical guardians of society, let them hasten to make provision for the timely planting, pruning, and watering of the plants of heaven that these may be prudently formed in letters, virtue, and piety.

Private education is not desirable. Children should be trained in common, since better results and more pleasures are to be obtained when they are taught together in classes. Not only is class teaching a saving of labor over private instruction, but it introduces a rivalry that is both needful and helpful. Moreover, young children learn much that is useful by imitation through association with school-fellows. Comenius, it may be remarked, was one of the first of the educational reformers to see clearly the value of class teaching and graded instruction. His reforms in this direction have already been noted.

School training is necessary for the children of all grades of society, not of the rich and powerful only, but the poor and lowly as well. Let none be neglected, unless God has denied him sense and intelligence. When it is urged that the laboring classes need no school education, let it be also recalled that they are expected to think, obey, and do good.

Girls should be educated as well as boys. No satisfactory reason can be given why women should be excluded from the pursuits of knowledge, whether in the Latin or in the mother-tongue. They are formed in the image of God as well as men; and they are endowed with equal sharpness of mind and capacity for learning, often, indeed, with more than the opposite sex. Why, then, should we admit them to the alphabet, and afterwards drive them away from books? Comenius takes issue with most writers on education that study will make women blue-stockings and chatterboxes. On the contrary, he maintains, the more their minds are occupied with the fruits of learning, the less room and temptation there will be for gossip and folly.

Not only should education be common to all classes of society, but the subjects of instruction should be common to the whole range of knowledge. Comenius holds that it is the business of educators to take strong and vigorous measures that no man in his journey through life may encounter anything so unknown to him that he will be unable to pass sound judgment upon it and turn it to its proper use without serious error. This desire for encyclopædic learning, as already noted, dominated his life and writings.

But even Comenius recognized the futility of thoroughness in a wide range of instruction, and he expresses willingness to be satisfied if men know the principles, the causes, and the uses of all things in existence. It is general culture—something about a great many things—that he demands.

Comenius clearly saw that the conditions of educational institutions were wholly inadequate for the realization of these purposes—(1) because of an insufficient number of schools, and (2) because of the unscientific character of current methods of instruction. The exhortations of Martin Luther, he observes, remedied the former shortcoming, but it remains for the future to improve the latter.

The best intellects are ruined by unsympathetic and unpedagogic methods. Such great severity characterizes the schools that they are looked upon as terrors for the boys and shambles for their intellects. Most of the students contract a dislike for learning, and many leave school altogether. The few who are forced by parents and guardians to remain acquire a most preposterous and wretched sort of education, so that instead of tractable lambs, the schools produce wild asses and restive mules. Nothing could be more wretched than the discipline of the schools. “What should be gently instilled into the intellect is violently impressed upon it, nay, rather flogged into it. How many, indeed, leave the schools and universities with scarcely a notion of true learning.” Comenius laments that he and many thousands of his contemporaries have miserably lost the sweet spring-time of life and wasted the fresh years of youth on scholastic trifles.

Education according to Nature

Comenius proposes to so reconstruct systems of education that (1) all shall be educated, except those to whom God has denied understanding, in all those subjects calculated to make men wise, virtuous, and pious; (2) the course of training, being a preparation for life, shall be completed before maturity is attained; (3) and schools shall be conducted without blows, gently and pleasantly, in the most natural manner. Bold innovator! How clearly he perceived the faults of the schools of his day; with what keen insight he formulated methods for their improvement; and with what hope in the reform which has gone forward steadily for these two hundred and seventy-five years, but which even now is far from being an accomplished fact!

The basis of the reform which he advocates is an application of the principle of order—order in the management of time, in the arrangement of subjects taught, and in the methods employed. Nature furnishes us a criterion for order in all matters pertaining to the improvement of human society. Certain universal principles, which are fundamental to his philosophy of education, are deduced from nature. These, stripped of their tedious examples and details, are:—

1. Nature observes a suitable time.

2. She prepares the material before she attempts to give it form.

3. She chooses a fit subject to act upon, or first submits her subject to a suitable treatment in order to make it fit.

4. She is not confused in her operations; but, in her onward march, advances with precision from one point to another.

5. In all the operations of nature, development is from within.

6. In her formative processes, she begins with the universal and ends with the particular.

7. Nature makes no leaps, but proceeds step by step.

8. When she begins a thing, she does not leave off until the operation is completed.

9. She avoids all obstacles that are likely to interfere with her operations.

With nature as our guide, Comenius believes that the process of education will be easy, (1) if it is begun before the mind is corrupted; (2) if the mind is prepared to receive it; (3) if we proceed from the general to the particular, from what is easy to what is more complex; (4) if the pupils are not overburdened with too many different studies; (5) if the instruction is graded to the stages of the mental development of the learners; (6) if the interests of the children are consulted and their intellects are not forced along lines for which they have no natural bent; (7) if everything is taught through the medium of the senses; (8) if the utility of instruction is emphasized; and (9) if everything is taught by one and the same method.

Nature begins by a careful selection of materials, therefore education should commence early; the pupils should not have more than one teacher in each subject, and before anything else is done, the morals should be rendered harmonious by the teacher’s influence.

Nature always makes preparation for each advance step; therefore, the desire to know and to learn should be excited in children in every way possible, and the method of instruction should lighten the drudgery, that there may be nothing to hinder progress in school studies.

Nature develops everything from beginnings which, though insignificant in appearance, possess great potential strength; whereas, the practice of most teachers is in direct opposition to this principle. Instead of starting with fundamental facts, they begin with a chaos of diverse conclusions.

Nature advances from what is easy to what is more difficult. It is, therefore, wrong to teach the unknown through the medium of that which is equally unknown. Such errors may be avoided if pupils and teachers talk in the same language and explanations are given in the language that the pupil understands; if grammars and dictionaries are adapted in the language and to the understanding of the pupils; if, in the study of a foreign language, the pupils first learn to understand it, then to write it, and lastly to speak it; if in such study the pupils get to know first that which is nearest to their mental vision, then that which lies moderately near, then that which is more remote, and lastly that which is farthest off; and if children be made to exercise first their senses, then their memory, and finally their understanding.

Nature does not overburden herself, but is content with a little at a time; therefore the mental energies of the pupils should not be dissipated over a wide range of subject-matter.

Nature advances slowly; therefore school sessions should be shortened to four hours; pupils should be forced to memorize as little as possible; school instruction should be graded to the ages and capacities of the children.

Nature compels nothing to advance that is not driven forward by its own mature strength; therefore it follows that nothing should be taught to children not demanded by their age, interests, and mental ability.

Nature assists her operations in every possible manner; therefore children should not be punished for inability to learn. Rather, instruction should be given through the senses that it may be retained in the memory with less effort.

Nothing is produced by nature the practical application of which is not evident; therefore those things only should be taught whose application can be easily demonstrated.

Nature is uniform in all her operations; hence the same method of instruction should be adapted to all subjects of study, and the text-books in each subject should, as far as possible, be of the same editions.

Comenius observes that there is a very general complaint that few leave school with a thorough education, and that most of the instruction retained in after life is little more than a mere shadow of true knowledge. He considers that the complaint is well corroborated by facts, and attributes the cause to the insignificant and unimportant studies with which the schools occupy themselves. If we would correct this evil, we must go to the school of nature and investigate the methods she adopts to give endurance to the beings which she has created.

A method should be found by means of which each person will be able not only to bring into his mental consciousness that which he has learned, but at the same time to pass sound judgment on the objective facts to which his information refers. This will be possible if only those subjects are studied which will be of real service in the later life; if such subjects be taught without digression or interruption; if a thorough grounding precede the detailed instruction; if all that comes later be based upon what has gone before; if great stress be laid on the points of resemblance between cognate subjects; if the studies be arranged with reference to the pupils’ present mental development, and if knowledge be fixed in the memory by constant use.

In support of his principle of thoroughness, Comenius adduces the following proofs from nature: Nothing is produced by nature that is useless. When she forms a body, she omits nothing that is necessary. She does not operate on anything unless it possesses foundations, and she strikes her roots deep and develops everything from them. She never remains at rest, but advances continually; never begins anything fresh at the expense of work already begun, but proceeds with what she has started and brings it to completion. She knits everything together in continuous combination, preserving due proportion with respect to both quality and quantity. Through constant exercise she becomes strong and fruitful.

Progress is less a question of strength than of skill. Hitherto little has been accomplished in the school-life of the child, because no set landmarks have been set up as goals to be reached by the pupils; things naturally associated are not taught together; the arts and sciences are scarcely ever thought of as an encyclopædic whole; the methods employed are as numerous and diverse as the schools and teachers; instruction is individual and private, and not public and general, and books are selected with too little regard for the value of their contents. If these matters could be reformed, there is no doubt in the mind of Comenius that the whole circle of the sciences might be covered during the period of school training. Toward the solution of this problem he answers the following questions:—

1. How can a single teacher instruct a large number of children at the same time? In answer, he maintains that it is not only possible for one teacher to instruct several hundred children (!) at once, but that it is essential for the best interests of both the teacher and the children (!!). The larger the number of pupils, the greater will be the teacher’s interest in his work; and the keener his interest, the greater the enthusiasm of his pupils. In the same way, to the children, the presence of a number of companions will be productive not only of utility, but also of enjoyment, since they will mutually stimulate and assist one another. For children of this age, emulation and rivalry are the best incentives to study. The reader will observe that this scheme of Comenius contemplates some adaptation of the system of pupil teaching, and that it interdicts all efforts at individual instruction.

2. How far is it possible for pupils to be taught from the same book? It is an undisputed fact, says Comenius, that too many facts presented to the mind at the same time distract the attention. It will, therefore, be of great advantage if the pupils be permitted to use no books except those which have been expressly composed for the class in which they are. Such books should contain a complete, thorough, and accurate epitome of all the subjects of instruction. They should give a true representation of the entire universe; should be written simply and clearly—preferably in the form of a dialogue; and should give the pupils sufficient assistance to enable them, if necessary, to pursue their studies without the help of a master.

3. How is it possible for all the pupils in a school to do the same thing at one time? This may be accomplished by having a course of instruction commence at a definite time of each year; and by and by so dividing the course of instruction that each year, each month, each week, each day, each hour may have a definite appointed task for it.

4. How is it possible to teach everything according to one and the same method? That there is only one natural method has already been satisfactorily demonstrated (to the mind of Comenius), and the universal adoption of this natural method will be as great a boon to pupils as a plain and undeviating road is to travellers.

5. How can many things be explained in a few words? The purpose of education is not to fill the mind with a dreary waste of words from books. Rightly says Seneca of instruction: “Its administration should resemble the sowing of seed, in which stress is laid not on the quantity, but on the quality.”

6. How is it possible to do two or three things by a single operation? It may be laid down as a general rule that each subject should be taught in combination with those which are correlative to it. Reading, penmanship, spelling, language, and nature study should work together in the acquisition and expression of ideas. As Professor Hanus[28] has pointed out, Comenius clearly foreshadowed the correlation and coördination of school studies at least two centuries before Herbart. Indeed, he went so far as to urge the correlation of school instruction with the plays and games of children. He urged that children be given tools and allowed to imitate the different handicrafts, by playing at farming, at politics, at being soldiers or architects. In the game of war they may be allowed to take the part of field-marshals, generals, captains, and standard-bearers. In that of politics they may be kings, ministers, chancellors, secretaries, and ambassadors, as well as senators, consuls, and lawyers; since such pleasantries often lead to serious things. Thus, maintains Comenius, would be fulfilled Luther’s wish that the studies of the young at school might be so organized that the pupils would take as much pleasure in them as playing at ball all day. In this way, the schools might become a real prelude to the more serious duties of practical life.

Methods of Instruction

A correct method of instruction was to Comenius, as has already been pointed out, the panacea for most of the ills of teaching. He made reform in methodology the starting point of all his schemes for educational improvement. In the Great didactic he considers reform in methods of instructing in the sciences, arts, language, morals, and religion.

1. Science. Knowledge of nature or science requires objects to be perceived and sufficient attention for the perception of the objects. The youth who would comprehend the sciences must observe four rules: (1) he must keep the eye of his mind pure; (2) he must see that the proper relationship is established between the eye and the object; (3) he must attend to the object; (4) he must proceed from one object to another in accordance with a suitable method.

The beginning of wisdom in the sciences consists, not in the mere learning of the names of things, but in the actual perception of the things themselves. It is after the thing has been grasped by the senses that language should fulfil its function of still further explaining it. The senses are the trusty servants of the memory, leading to the permanent retention of the knowledge that has been acquired. Reasoning, also, is conditioned and mediated by the experience gained through sense-perception. It is evident, therefore, that if we wish to develop a true love and knowledge of science, we must take special care to see that everything is learned by actual observation through sense-perception. This should be the golden rule of teachers: Everything should as far as possible be placed before the senses.

When the objects themselves cannot be procured, representations of them may be used; models may be constructed or the objects may be represented by means of engravings. This is especially needful in such studies as geography, geometry, botany, zoölogy, physiology, and physics. It requires both labor and expense to produce models, but the results of such aids will more than repay the efforts. In the absence of both objects and models, the things may be represented by means of pictures.[29]

2. Arts. “Theory,” says Vives, “is easy and short, but has no result other than the gratification that it affords. Practice, on the other hand, is difficult and prolix, but of immense utility.” Since this is so, remarks Comenius, we should diligently seek out a method by which the young may be easily led to the application of such natural forces as one finds in the arts.

In the acquisition of an art, three things are required: (1) a model which the pupil may examine and then try to imitate; (2) material on which the new form is to be impressed; and (3) instruments by the aid of which the work is accomplished. After these have been provided, three things more are necessary before an art can be learned—a proper use of the materials, skilled guidance, and frequent practice.

Progress in the art studies is primarily through practice. Let the pupils learn to write by writing, to talk by talking, and to sing by singing. Since imitation is such an important factor in the mastery of an art, it is sheer cruelty to try to force a pupil to do that which you wish done, while the pupil is ignorant of your wishes. The use of instruments should be shown in practice, and not by words; by example, rather than by precept. It is many years since Quintilian wrote, “Through precepts the way is long and difficult, while through examples it is short and practicable.” But alas! remarks Comenius, how little heed the schools pay to this advice. Man is essentially an imitative animal, and it is by imitation that children learn to walk, to run, to talk, and to play.[30] Rules are like thorns to the understanding, since to grasp them requires a degree of mental development not common during the elementary school life of the child.

Comenius would have the first attempts at imitation as accurate as possible, since whatever comes first is the foundation of that which is to follow. All haste in the first steps should be avoided, lest we proceed to the advanced work before the elements have been mastered.

Perfect instruction in the arts is based on both synthesis and analysis. The synthetic steps should generally come first, since we should commence with what is easy, and our own efforts are always easiest to understand. But the accurate analysis of the work of others must not be neglected. Finally, it must be remembered that it is practice, nothing but faithful practice, that makes an artist.

3. Language. We learn languages, not merely for the erudition and wisdom which they hold, but because languages are the instruments by which we acquire knowledge and by which we impart our knowledge to others. The study of languages, particularly in youth, should be joined to the study of objects. The intelligence should thus be exercised on matters which appeal to the interests and comprehension of children. They waste their time who place before children Cicero and the other great writers; for, if students do not understand the subject-matter, how can they master the various devices for expressing it forcibly? The time would be more usefully spent on less ambitious efforts, so correlated that the languages and the general intelligence might advance together step by step. Nature makes no leaps, neither does art, since art imitates nature.

Each language should be learned separately. First of all, the mother-tongue should be learned; then a modern language—that of a neighboring nation; after this, Latin; and, lastly, Greek and Hebrew. The mother-tongue, because of its intimate connection with the gradual unfolding of the objective world to the senses, will require from eight to ten years; a modern language may be mastered in one year; Latin in two years; Greek in one year; and Hebrew in six months.

There are four stages in the study of a language. The first is the age of babbling infancy, during which time language is indistinctly spoken; the second is the age of ripening boyhood, in which the language is correctly spoken; the third is the age of mature youth, in which the language is elegantly spoken; and the fourth is the age of vigorous manhood, in which the language is forcibly spoken.

4. Morals. If the schools are to become forging places of humanity, the art of moral instruction must be more definitely elaborated. To this end Comenius formulates the following pedagogic rules:—

All the virtues may be implanted in men.

Those virtues which are called cardinal virtues—prudence, temperance, fortitude, and justice—should first be implanted.

Prudence may be acquired through good instruction, and by learning the differences which exist between things and the relative value of those things. Comenius expresses agreement with Vives, that sound judgment must be acquired in early youth.

Children should be taught to observe temperance in eating, drinking, sleeping, exercising, and playing.

Fortitude is to be learned by the suppression of excessive desires—playing at the wrong time or beyond the proper time—and by avoiding manifestations of anger, discontent, and impatience. It is needful for the young to learn fortitude in the matter of frankness and endurance in toil. Children must be taught to work, and moral education must preach the gospel of work.

Lastly, examples of well-ordered lives in the persons of parents, teachers, nurses, and schoolmates must continually be set before the children, and they must be carefully guarded against bad associations.

5. Religion. In the scheme of education which Comenius outlines in the Great didactic, religion occupies the most exalted place; and while training in morals is accessory to religion, children must in addition be given specific instruction in piety. For this purpose definite methods of instruction are outlined. Instruction in piety must be of such a character as to lead children to follow God, by giving themselves completely up to His will, by acquiescing in His love, and by singing His praises. The child’s heart may thus be joined to His in love through meditation, prayer, and examination. Children should early be habituated to the outward works which He commands, that they may be trained to express their faith by works. At first they will not understand the true nature of what they are doing, since their intelligence is not yet sufficiently developed; but it is important that they learn to do what subsequent experience will teach them to be right.[31]

While Comenius was not willing to go as far as St. Augustine and the early church fathers in the matter of abolishing altogether the whole body of pagan literature from the school, nevertheless, he thought that the best interests of the religious education of the child required unusual precaution in the reading of pagan books. He reminds his readers that it is the business of Christian schools to form citizens, not merely for this world, but also for heaven, and that accordingly children should read mainly those authors who are well acquainted with heavenly as well as with earthly things.

Types of Educational Institutions

The modern fourfold division of education into kindergarten, elementary schools, secondary schools, colleges or universities was clearly foreshadowed by Comenius in the Great didactic. His philosophy of education comprehends a school of infancy, a school of the mother-tongue, a Latin school, and a university. These different institutions, he notes, are not merely to deal with different subjects, but they are to treat the same subjects in different ways, giving such instruction in all of them as will make true men, true Christians, and true scholars, although grading the instruction throughout to the age, capabilities, and previous training of the learners.

1. School of infancy. Comenius would have a mother’s school in every home, where children may be given such training as will fit them at the age of six years to begin regular studies in the vernacular school. He prepared for the use of mothers during this period a detailed outline, which he published under the title, Information for mothers, or School of infancy. An analysis of this book is given in the following chapter on the earliest training of the child.

2. School of the mother-tongue. This covers the years from six to twelve, and includes all children of both sexes. The aim of this school is to teach the young such things as will be of practical utility in later life—to read with ease both printing and writing in the mother-tongue; to write first with accuracy, and finally with confidence in accordance with the rules of the mother-tongue; to compute numbers as far as may be necessary for practical purposes; to measure spaces, such as lengths, breadths and distances; to sing well-known melodies, and to learn by heart the greater number of psalms and hymns commonly used in the country. In addition, the children study the principles of morality, the general history of the world, the geography of the earth and principal kingdoms of Europe, elementary economics and politics, and the rudiments of the mechanical arts.

The six years of the school of the mother-tongue are graded into six classes, with a detailed course of study for each class. Provision is made for four lessons daily, two in the forenoon and two in the afternoon. The remaining hours of the day are to be spent in domestic work or in some form of recreation. The morning hours are devoted to such studies as train the intellect; the afternoons to such as give manual skill. No new work is to be introduced in the afternoon; but the pupils may review and discuss the lessons developed during the morning sessions. If it is desired that a foreign language be introduced, it should not be begun before the tenth year.

3. The Latin school. The purpose of the Latin school is to give a more thorough and comprehensive training to those aspiring to callings higher than the industrial pursuits. It covers the years from twelve to eighteen, and was also divided into six classes,—the grammar, natural philosophy, mathematical, ethics, dialectic, and rhetorical classes. Since Comenius’ views on Latin are so fully set forth in a later chapter on language teaching and the Janua, it is only necessary here to recall that his curriculum for the Latin school includes a wide range of culture subjects. The most important of the culture studies of the Latin school is history, including an epitome of Biblical history, natural history, the history of arts, inventions and customs, history of morals, and a general historical survey of the leading modern nations of the world.

4. University. While Comenius frankly admits that his experience has been chiefly limited to work in elementary and secondary schools, still he sees no reason why he should not state his views and wishes with regard to superior instruction. The curriculum of the university conceived in the Great didactic is universal in character, making provision for a wide range of studies in every branch of human knowledge. The university must possess learned and able professors in the languages, sciences, and arts, as well as a library of well-selected books for the common use of all. One of the fundamental aims of the university is to widen the domain of knowledge through original investigation; in consequence, its equipment must fit it for research work.

How fully these schemes have been realized, the reader may appreciate by comparing the types of educational institutions of the United States and Germany with those of the Great didactic, which were outlined by Comenius more than two centuries ago.