Chapter VI: =General Method of Training=

160. The distinctions relative to character and morality (143–150) furnish the thread of reflection on this subject. Concisely stated, the function of training is to support, to determine, and to regulate; to keep the pupil, on the whole, in a tranquil and serene frame of mind; to arouse him occasionally by approval and reproof; to remind at the proper moment, and to correct faults. A more definite significance will be imparted to this brief summary by a comparative study and application of the ideas analyzed in the preceding chapters.

While we may accept the statement that the function of training is to
support, to determine, and to regulate, we must not forget to ask:
To what end shall it do these things? The answer is, that though
the means of moral training are always psychological, the ends are
always social. Support must hold the pupil up to social standards,
the directive power of the teacher must be exercised for social ends,
while all regulation of the pupil’s activities must point to the same
result. There is scarcely a virtue to be named that does not find its
ultimate meaning in its application to conduct as affecting others.
This is true even in primitive society. In modern urban society it
is not only true, but vastly important. The discussion in Chapter VI
is psychological throughout. It must be the purpose of the annotation
to point out the social implications.

161. First, what is meant by the supporting activity of training becomes clearer if we recall the remarks made concerning memory of the will (147) as opposed to the thoughtlessness usually ascribed to youth. The thoughtless boy does not remember past acts of will. He stands in need of being supported by training. This, further analysis shows, is done in two ways: by holding him back from the wrong course, and by holding him up to the right course.

Training presupposes an efficient government and the obedience consequent to it. By implication, the pupil would not dare to disobey a command if given. But commands ought to be employed sparingly, and only when inevitable. Imposed too frequently, they would preclude self-development; if given to adolescents for any but obvious and urgent reasons, obedience would not long continue. In short, government acts at intervals. But the pupil cannot be permitted to live in a state of lawless liberty in the meantime. He must remain sensible, be it ever so little, of certain limits which he is not allowed to overstep. This result is the aim of the supporting function of training.

But the pupil, even though he be generally obedient, does not obey every one, nor under all circumstances, nor always fully, promptly, and without opposition; and when he once fails to comply with gentle words, he will be still less ready to yield to a severe manner toward himself. Of course, the teacher must know on what support he may depend; the father needs to have made up his mind how far he would be willing to go with coercive measures if necessary; the private tutor, to what extent he may count on the backing of parents; the teacher in a public institution, how far his course of action would be upheld by his superiors. But all this involves an appeal from training to government, a step to be avoided as much as possible. Most of the unpleasant cases of intractability, where recourse to government becomes unavoidable, are the gradual result of continued weak indulgence. Of such cases no account is taken here, and justly so, since, apart from all else, even defiant obstinacy, provided restraint has not been cast off utterly, soon breaks down and gives way to remorse when it is met by serious and deliberate firmness.

The most obvious ways that the school has of securing a good “memory
of will” are those by which it enforces the well-known school
virtues,--regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry. It is to
the acquisition of these habits that the government, or discipline,
of the school is chiefly directed. Dr. Wm. T. Harris has pointed out
in detail the significance of this acquisition in the development
of character.[16] It is interesting to note how the teacher’s
personal authority is reinforced by social pressure both within and
without the school. The Superintendent of a city of thirteen thousand
inhabitants reports that but 1462 cases of tardiness occurred during
a whole school year. The pupils of each room are given a brief
holiday, from time to time, provided nobody in that room is tardy
during the stated period. This brings an immense social pressure
within the school to bear in securing prompt attendance. Happening to
visit the Superintendent’s office in a city of some sixty thousand
people, the writer observed the following scene: A young girl of
perhaps fourteen years of age, accompanied by her father, who was
a foreigner, unable to speak English fluently, entered the office.
The girl began at once to make excuses for her brother who was a
somewhat confirmed truant, and to beg that he might be excused and
reinstated. To objections stated by the Superintendent, the father
with much emotion replied, “Oh, Mr. Superintendent, won’t you give my
boy another trial?” The boy had been ‘tried again’ so many times that
father and daughter were referred to the judge, an officer having
jurisdiction over such cases. The penalty for persistent truancy was
attendance at a state reformatory school. This is a case in which the
authority of the teacher in securing regularity of attendance was
reinforced by the community outside the school. The constant pressure
of school and community tend to establish habits of will memory that
serve as an excellent foundation for later moral training.

[16] Third Year Book of the National Herbart Society.

162. Before training can have within itself the power to make up deficiencies in obedience, there must be awakened in the pupil a vivid feeling that the approval of his teacher is a valuable possession, which he would be loath to lose. This the teacher will bring about in proportion to the effective and welcome share he has in the life of his pupil. He must give before he can receive. Furthermore, if in his opinion the pupil needs to be turned in a different direction, he should not underestimate the difficulty of the task before him; he must proceed slowly.

The initial steps in character training are admirably described by Niemeyer in the following words: “The teacher’s first duty is to study the positively good elements in the native character of the being to be educated. To preserve these, to strengthen them, to transform them into virtue, and to fortify them against every danger, should be his incessant endeavor. They should constitute the keynote, as it were, of his whole method of education. He should look for the good even in the spoilt and vicious pupil, and should try to bring it to light, no matter how many weeds may have sprung up alongside of it. For all subsequent moral education must start from this point.”

Although this passage belongs in strictness to the discussion on moral education, it is plainly entitled to a place here also. An appeal to the pupil’s better nature promotes ready compliance on his part, especially when it is accompanied by those little courtesies that go with cultivated social intercourse. It is most effective with those who possess at the same time the strongest memory of will, which it will not be difficult for the supporting activity of training to strengthen still further.

163. On the other hand, the task of training grows arduous in proportion as the pupil fails to bear in mind his acts of will. But even here there is a difference between capricious unruliness and downright flightiness and levity.

Cases may arise where the impetuosity of the pupil challenges the teacher to a kind of combat. Rather than accept such a challenge, he will usually find it sufficient at first to reprove calmly, to look on quietly, to wait until fatigue sets in. The embarrassing situations into which such a pupil gets himself will furnish occasions for making him feel ashamed, and now it remains to be seen whether or not he can be made to adopt a more equable behavior. Here and there training may in this way even make good the lack of government; scarcely, however, for large numbers, after unruliness has once begotten vicious habits.

Combats of any kind between teacher and pupil are to be deplored.
A good teacher is always strong enough in his mental superiority,
his authority, and his influence as an executive to avoid it. Such
a contest shows that the pupil has become self-conscious in a bad
sense. He sets his personality over against that of the teacher.
If the teacher is so weak as to meet him on his own ground, the
pupil has a good chance for a bad victory--bad for himself, the
teacher, and the school. It should be a constant aim of the teacher
to supplant introspection, whether pertaining to feelings or to
wilfulness, with motor activity. The pupil should always be doing
something that will promote not only his own best good, but that
of the school also. Authority should rarely so assert itself as to
incite or to permit a personal contest with the pupil. It should be a
strong but almost unseen presupposition of all school affairs. Here
as elsewhere idleness is the mother of mischief. Lively action is
sure to banish morbid introspection.

164. Thoughtlessness in the narrower sense, which manifests itself in forgetfulness, in negligence, in want of steadiness, and in so-called youthful escapades, is a defect in native capacity, and does not admit of a radical cure, imperceptible as it may become with age, by reason of repeated warnings and diminishing susceptibility to external impressions. All the more imperative is it in such cases to support by training, in order that the evil consequences of this character weakness may be prevented, or at least reduced to a minimum. For as soon as a thoughtlessly impulsive boy comes to take pleasure in his conduct, he will set himself against order and industry, and will strive to discover the means which promise to secure for him a life without restrictions. This danger must be forestalled by training. At the beginning, and before an evil will has had time to develop, training must take the place of will. It must bring home to the pupil that of which he had lost sight. To his fluctuating and roving impulses it must lend its own external firmness and uniformity, which cannot be created at once, if at all, within the pupil.

Here is the proper place for the injunction, not to argue with children. “I cannot be too emphatic and outspoken in my warning against too much arguing,” says Caroline Rudolphi; and Schwarz, who quotes this passage, adds, “Once is too often.” Niemeyer, after speaking of the excesses of abnormal liveliness and characterizing thoughtlessness, which, he says, “causes inattention, a disregard for consequences, and hasty actions,” continues thus: “All these are not faults of the heart; still they are faults that need to be amended, and about the only sure educational method for amending them is to cultivate right habits. Positive punishments wisely chosen may indeed be employed as auxiliary means, but only when there are evidences of a lack of good intention, or when these faults have become ominously prominent.” He further advises teachers to insist on this, that pupils rectify on the spot what can be rectified, since vague recollections prove barren of good results.

This does not, of course, dispose of the whole matter, but we are still discussing training as a supporting agency, and from this point of view it is true that argument should not be substituted for the cultivation of habits.

165. To restrain the lively but thoughtless boy is more difficult than to keep him properly active, for the latter is comparatively easy, in some cases at least, if instruction excites his interest. The reverse holds true for the sluggish boy because an attack has to be made on his indolence. Here the stimulation to physical exertion through association with wide-awake playmates is the first thing to be secured; and where hard lessons cannot as yet be managed successfully, lighter occupations will have to suffice. Where sluggishness is traceable to bodily feebleness, improvement may be hoped for from sanitary measures and increasing years.

The following rule is to be observed everywhere: No exercise must exceed the pupil’s strength, but that which has once been begun must be completed. At the least, pupils must not be allowed to drop their work as they choose; they must look upon it as a whole, however small.

166. That the supporting procedure of training rests on the teacher’s own bearing--on the uniformity of his demeanor--need hardly be said; but this evenness must also stand out clearly before the eyes of the pupils. The teacher ought to guard particularly against causing the complaint that no one knows how to please him, that nothing one may do is done to his satisfaction. When matters have come to this pass, the first thing pupils do is to watch his moods as they might the weather, and to interchange observations. His ugly mood is dreaded; his pleasant mood is taken advantage of for importunate requests. The pupils try to move the firm centre which is to support them, and the faintest signs of success awaken and foster extravagant hopes. Gradually the after-effects of earlier government die out, and a renewal of severe measures draws with it a train of new evils.

Goldsmith in his “Deserted Village” has well portrayed the “moody”
teacher:--

“A man severe he was, and stern to view;
I knew him well, and every truant knew:
Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace
The day’s disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned.”

167. Second. Training is to exert a determining influence; it is to induce the pupil _to choose_ (147). Under this head falls the discrimination spoken of above between varieties of volitional impulse--the will to bear, to have, and to do; hence also experiential knowledge of the natural consequences of doing or of failure to do (157), for unless these are taken into consideration, the manifold of will cannot be reduced to harmony. Now the first point to be noticed in connection with this aspect of training is that the teacher does not choose for the pupil. The pupil himself must choose, for it is his own character that is to be determined. He must himself experience a part, although only the smallest part, of that which is desirable or harmful. That the flame burns that a pin pricks, that a fall or knock hurts, this lesson even the little child must learn; and similar experiences must be gained later, provided they do not carry the pupil to the verge of serious danger. Everything essential has been accomplished if, in consequence of actual experiences confirming the teacher’s words of warning, the pupil believes other warnings without waiting for confirmation.

Not second in importance to the act of choosing is the content of the
choice. If conduct must have a social outcome, all the activities
of the school will focus at this point. In order to have rational
choice there must be first of all social intelligence. This it is
the function of instruction to develop. According to a well-known
doctrine of Herbart, it is the chief duty of instruction to make a
progressive revelation to the pupil of the ethical world, in order
that his puny will may gradually be reinforced by race experience.
The instruments for this revelation are the studies on the one hand,
and the conduct of the school according to social principles on the
other. In the second place, that the ethical choice may truly express
the pupil’s inward state, rather than his outward constraint, it must
grow out of his insight as suffused by his social responsiveness to
ethical ideas. In other words, his disposition should confirm his
intellectual perception of the right line of conduct. This raises the
whole matter of interest as related to will.[17] Here again natural,
spontaneous, almost unconscious attitude is vastly superior to morbid
introspection, no matter how ‘good’ the pupil’s disposition may prove
to be. A boy should not have to ‘reflect’ as to whether he will rob
a bird’s nest or not.

[17] See Dr. John Dewey, “Interest as Related to Will,” National Herbart Society, reprint for 1899.

168. Pleasure and pain arise so largely out of social relations that the pupil must grow up amidst a social environment in order to become somewhat acquainted with his natural place among men. This requirement gives rise accordingly to solicitous precautions against a bad example and rudeness. On the other hand, a boy’s companions should not be chosen with such anxious care as if the intention were to spare him the feeling of pressure which in all human society is generated by the efforts and counter-efforts of men. Too great complaisance on the part of playmates causes delusions as to the actual conditions of life.

Again, society and seclusion must alternate. The social current is not to carry everything else along with it, and to become more powerful than education. Even the boy, and much more the youth, must learn to be alone, and to fill up his time profitably.

Unbroken association of the child with his mates tends to bring
him too exclusively under the influence of imitation and of acting
impulsively upon those forms of unreasoning suggestion which sway
the crowd, the gang, and the mob. To quote Professor Baldwin:[18]
“The characteristics of the social suggestions upon which the crowd
act show them to be strictly suggestions. They are not truths, nor
arguments, nor insights, nor inventions.... The suggestible mind
has very well known marks. Balzac hit off one of them in ‘Eugénie
Grandet’ in the question, ‘Can it be that collectively man has no
memory?’ We might go through the list of mental functions asking the
same question of them one by one. Has man collectively no thought, no
sense of values, no deliberation, no self-control, no responsibility,
no conscience, no will, no motive, no purpose? And the answer to
each question would be the same, No, he has none. The suggestible
consciousness is the consciousness that has no past, no future, no
height, no depth, no development, no reference to anything; it is
only in and out. It takes in and it acts out--that is all there is
to it.” It is here that we find the source of the youthful escapade
so common to street, school, and college, as well as of the adult
deeds of diabolism that have so often shocked the moral sense of the
American people. The child needs frequent opportunities to be alone,
when he can “come to himself” as a responsible person. Even where the
association with his mates is perfectly innocent, there is a growing
responsiveness to mere suggestion. This tendency is corrected by
attention to individual tasks and responsibilities.

[18] “Social and Ethical Interpretations,” pp. 236–237.

169. By living alternately with his equals in age and with adults, the pupil grows familiar with diverse standards of honor. To unite these, and to subordinate one to the other in a proper manner, will prove an easy or a difficult part of training, according to the smaller or greater gap between the value set on brute force on the one hand, and the demand for good-breeding, as well as regard for talent and knowledge, on the other. The main thing is not to foster ambition artificially, though care must be taken at the same time to refrain from crushing out a natural and true self-esteem. Usually, however, those interested in the progress of a pupil stand in need themselves of guarding against the self-deception due to extravagant hopes. By giving themselves up to these, they involuntarily turn flatterers, and push the boy, and the young man still more, beyond the position he is able to maintain. Bitter experiences follow.

The tendency to an abnormal overestimation of the value of physical
excellence is seen in the attitude of the modern college toward
athletics. Doubtless the public as a whole still underestimates
the importance of fine physical development. Our modern life with
its nerve-racking occupation will shatter the efficiency of large
portions of the race, unless the physical organism is so developed
as to withstand the strain. This, if true of men, is still more
true of women, who are now undertaking many new lines of exhausting
labor, not the easiest of which is teaching. But the college student
is prone to adore muscle. The successful athlete is, for a brief
period, praised, petted, and advertised far more than is the ablest
student or professor in the institution. Scarcely do the noblest
achievements of science or philanthropy receive so much notice as
a successful full-back on a foot-ball team. The athlete goes up
indeed like a rocket, startling the ear and dazzling the eye for
a moment--then oblivion, or deserved obscurity. The teacher must
endeavor to displace this false estimate of values by one more true
if less exciting.

170. The regard for the value of things in their relation to the ordinary necessities of life develops somewhat more slowly than the natural sense of honor. This is true especially of money, which at first boys rarely know how to use. Instead of saying, either this or that, which a fixed sum will buy, the boy falls a victim to the deception that lurks in saying, this _and_ that. In this respect also the pupil needs to gain experience on a small scale; he must, moreover, come to know the value of objects last, not merely in terms of money, but also in terms of the inconvenience of doing without them. Warnings against petty closeness are seldom necessary; not infrequently, however, a boy follows common talk, and it may happen that he practises parsimony by imitation, and squanders in obedience to his own impulses. Where faults of this sort are not conquered by the pupil’s own sense of honor, they fall within the province of moral education.

A modern device for teaching children the value of money, and
especially the usefulness of saving it, is the institution of
school savings banks. Here the pupil develops his instincts for
accumulation. At the same time he learns to inhibit his often
inordinate fondness for spending. If indulgence to self, accompanied
by penuriousness toward others, is permitted to grow into a habit in
childhood and youth, it becomes a source of much unhappiness in later
family life. Wife and children are often victims of this kind of
selfishness. Now that women are in the main the teachers of children,
they should have the interest of their sex sufficiently at heart
to inculcate suitable ideals and habits respecting the gathering
and spending of money. No form of selfishness is so obnoxious as
self-indulgence at the expense of those who have a natural right
to an equitable share of what is produced. The ‘meanness’ of such
conduct if constantly unveiled will effect its own cure.

171. When experience has taught the pupil to what extent he must endure or need not endure the pressure of human society, and what honors, objects, enjoyments, he can have or must do without, the question arises: How does he connect all this with the pursuits which attract or repel him? The thoughtful pupil soon realizes, without being told, that one thing often makes another possible, that one thing involves or conditions another. But upon the thoughtless boy this truth does not impress itself with sufficient force; consequently, the teacher has to help him to deepen that impression, because a man without a settled mind regarding these matters remains devoid of character.

Yet a lack of fixedness is often desirable rather than otherwise--a statement applying to those pupils whose intellectual interests it is the business of instruction to awaken, or whose moral and religious culture are as yet in a backward state. The objective part of character (142) should not become fixed too soon; and very often a large part of the value of training consists in retarding this process. Such an end is subserved by the restraint under which the pupil is kept by the subordinate position assigned to him in conformity with his age, and particularly by the refusal of freedom to act without permission, and according to his own inclination (152). The theoretical judgment of will relations (149) is frequently late in maturing, or remains weak in comparison with the impression produced by the experiences mentioned. In that case moral ardor is also wanting, and if the pupil were given liberty to do as he chose, his character would be formed, to be sure, but in the wrong way. Rather would it be better to encourage juvenile amusements, and even boyish games, beyond the usual age limit.

172. Third. Regulative training begins its work with the first appearance of the subjective part of character (143). For an earlier period the rule not to argue with children holds good (164); that is, it holds good as long as we can get along with it. That stage, however, is passed when the pupil begins to reason for himself; in other words, when his thinking has acquired such consecutiveness that his thoughts no longer come and go as momentary fancies, but attain to permanency and coherence. Reasoning processes of this sort ought not to be left to themselves, nor can they be repressed by dictatorial decrees. The educator must now enter into his pupil’s trains of reflection, must argue with him and prevent further development in the wrong direction.

The tendency to set up rules reveals itself early; for example, in the games of children. Commands as to what to do are given every moment, only these imperatives are imperfectly obeyed and often changed. Neither is there lack of original, childish resolutions; but they can mean little so long as they do not remain the same. It is very different when they acquire stability, when means and ends combine into plans, when execution is attempted under difficulties, and finally when these resolves are thought in the forms of general concepts, thereby laying claim to validity in possible future instances, and becoming thus transformed into maxims.

173. The wise forethought essential to regulative training requires in the first place that the teacher shall rather tolerate an inconvenient discussion than check a frank expression of opinion, provided the objections of the pupil are indubitably sincere, and his vanity, we will say, is not flattered too much by the unexpected consideration accorded to his remarks. The same foresight is to be exercised in cases where it proves impossible to convince the pupil at once. Here the final judgment, instead of being insisted upon, should rather be postponed; it will always be easy to point out to the pupil his lack of adequate knowledge and to refer him to future studies. The positiveness that usually characterizes the assertions of boys and young men, generally has its roots in their great ignorance. They have not the least inkling of how many opinions have been held and disputed. Instruction will gradually cure them of their excessive self-confidence.

Only in a pure despotism would the enforcement of unquestioning
obedience to authority be admissible. No country aspiring to
political liberty could tolerate such a system. Even if all political
considerations were dismissed, the development of subjective
character alone would demand a condemnation of such a method. But in
a country like ours, where men are both personally and politically
self-governing, education to leadership is not second to education
to obedience. There comes a time, therefore, when argument is in
place, provided its purpose is to clarify the pupil’s insight into
prudence or duty. It will not be too much to insist upon obedience
without argument with all pupils so far as the ordinary school
virtues--regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry--are
concerned. Old and young can see their necessity. When it comes to
the more intricate phases of conduct, the grounds for authority, if
it is still exercised, may be revealed through dialogue. It is the
constant effort of training to establish regulative principles in the
minds of the older pupils, so that within the range of their capacity
they may become self-governing. In other words, the moral plateaus of
Kant are to be attained, not at a bound, but by a gradual progress
in moral autonomy. Herein we see the superiority of Herbart’s
conception of moral training. What Kant gave up as an unsolvable
problem, can be seen to be only a natural process. Says Kant, “How a
law can of itself directly determine the will is for human reason an
insoluble problem, for it is identical with the problem how a free
will is possible.”[19] The difficulty with Kant’s theory was that
he admitted no psychological means for attaining the free directive
power of the mind. He could only say to the child: “You are free; be
free. You are morally autonomous; exercise your power; be a free,
self-governing citizen.” Kant regarded natural impulses, emotions,
desires, pleasures, interests, as impure, hence to be rejected. They
are indeed to be rejected as the final ends of character, but what
Kant did not recognize is that they are the psychological means
for attaining character. Primarily these feelings, far from being
radically bad, as he thought, are radically good, since they help to
furnish the necessary conditions of survival, both for the individual
and for the race. Hunger, fear, courage, combativeness, prudence,
sexual instinct, inquisitiveness, love of adornment, frugality,
and a hundred other elemental passions have preserved the race
from destruction in the past. A new set of social and intellectual
impulses will in the future provide the instruments of survival,
now that the field of evolution is transported from the jungle to
the city. It is through intellectual insights that new ideals are
formulated; it is through these elemental feelings that the active
powers of the mind are stirred up to motor efficiency for their
realization. From being biological means for physical survival,
the feelings of man have now become psychological means for civic
survival. Psychologically, therefore, men are not born free; they
become free. To become free they must have opportunity to exercise
freedom; at first within definite but widening limits while they are
under the tuition of the school; later within the limits set by civil
society; at last absolutely, when they have recognized that what is
rational law in society is the law of their own being.

[19] “Selections,” p. 284.

174. But the matter of greatest importance from the point of view of training is consistency or inconsistency of action. One who lightly sets up maxims must be made to feel the difficulty of living up to them. In this way a mirror is held up to the pupils, partly in order to put to rout untenable maxims, and partly to reinforce valid principles.

Among the untenable maxims we include also those which, although in accord with prudence, would offend against morality. If the pupil does not see already that they cannot be maintained, the application, by exhibiting their objectionable consequences, must bring to light their true character.

175. Regulative training often calls for rousing words from the teacher. He has to remind the pupil of happenings in the past and predict future consequences in case his faults should continue; he has to induce him to look within himself for the purpose of tracing the causal connection of his actions to its source. If, however, this was done earlier, with a view to moral education, no long speeches are now needed. Moreover, the teacher’s remarks become calmer and briefer the more effective they have been, the more he is justified in expecting independent judgment on the part of the pupil, and finally the more fully the latter has entered upon that period during which he looks about him to observe the words and actions of strangers. For, at the time when he has begun to compare the new with the old, his receptivity for the old is very weak, and soon vanishes completely; unless, indeed, the old had been deeply impressed beforehand.

The purpose of the “rousing word” is to stimulate the mind to
exercise its dynamic force to moral ends. The pupil must not be
permitted to assume the attitude of negation, or to be a mere passive
observer, or an innocent, devoid alike of power and significance,
but he must be roused into a responsible character, an efficient
participant in life’s activities. Successful appeal may be made to
insights already acquired, but theoretically held; to dispositions
implanted, but not yet actively exercised; to the application of
old habits to new uses. Even where appeal must be made against
objectionable conduct, it is better to apply the “inhibition of
substitution” to that of “negation.”[20] While protesting against the
evil, point the way to the right road.

[20] James, “Talks on Psychology,” p. 192.

176. Fourth. The pupil is to be kept in a quiet frame of mind; his intellect in a state suitable for clear apprehension. To outbursts of passion this applies absolutely; not so generally to emotions. Above all, tranquillity is the condition for the formation of theoretical judgments and hence also, although not exclusively so, for laying the foundation of morality.

Every desire may develop into passion, if the soul is so often and so long in a desiring state that thoughts become focussed in the object longed for, whereby plans shape themselves, hopes arise, and ill-will toward others strikes root. Accordingly, watchful attention must be given to all persistent and recurrent desires.

177. The most usual desires are those which arise from the physical need of food and of bodily activity. Now the first step to take is, while guarding against excess, to satisfy these natural impulses in order to subdue the unruliness springing from unsatisfied cravings. We ought not to permit hunger to tempt a boy to steal, nor encourage truancy by making him sit still too long. This warning is not superfluous. Such things happen even in families where less irrational practices might be expected. Over-indulgence, to be sure, is of far more frequent occurrence.

When the natural wants have lost their sting, a positive and irrevocable refusal must be opposed to further desires. With it should be combined some occupation capable of diverting the attention.

If the object which continues to excite desire can be removed, all the better. In one’s own home this is more often practicable, and more necessary as well, than in that of strangers. If the object cannot be removed, gratification may be put off until some future time. The foregoing statement may be illustrated by reference to the eating of fruit from the tree. An unconditional prohibition carries with it a dangerous temptation to disobedience, while unconditional permission would be equally inadmissible on account of the plucking of green fruit, let alone the possible injury to the orchards of others.

Analogy will suggest many similar applications of the rule given.

178. Again, children must be watched at their games. The more free play of the imagination we discover, and the more change there is, the less cause for concern. But when the same game is frequently repeated according to the same fixed rules, when a species of study is devoted to it in order to attain special proficiency, passions may be generated, such, for instance, as an excessive fondness for playing at cards, even where no stakes are involved. Gambling must be forbidden entirely, and in case compliance with this prohibition is doubtful, obedience must be secured by watchful supervision.

To what end shall a teacher watch the games of children? To prevent
the bullying of the weak by the strong, to see that unfairness
does not creep in, to ward off vulgarity and profanity--these and
similar purposes will be in the mind of the teacher. One of the chief
functions of play, however, is to cultivate social efficiency. This
has two aspects, willingness to coöperate with a group and ability
to lead a group. It is necessary that there should be alternation
of leadership and coöperation. If one child is allowed to lead all
the time, he becomes overbearing; if another is always compelled to
follow, he becomes subservient. Each has a one-sided development.
Without discouraging unduly natural capacity for leadership, it
is well for the teacher quietly to see to it that each child has
his chance, both to lead and to follow. Just as the kindergarten
utilizes play to simulate the occupations of men, arousing sympathy
with them and respect for them, so the school may by proper
modification make the numerous group games, in which children
delight, a potent means for securing coöperative habits and a general
aptitude for social activities. Not a little attention is now paid
to the various forms of children’s play. This is especially true of
such publications as the _Pedagogical Seminary_, published at Clark
University, Worcester, Massachusetts.

179. An excellent means to avert the dangers connected with passionate tendencies is to engage in the acquisition of one of the fine arts, say music or drawing, even though there should be no more than a modicum of talent. The student must be given to understand, however, that he is not to take up the study of several musical instruments at once, nor give himself up to distracting attempts in sundry branches of pictorial representation. On the contrary, he is to strive consistently for proficiency in one definite direction.

In the total absence of aptitude we may avail ourselves of preferences of one kind or other, such as fondness for collecting plants or shells, for work in papier-maché, for joinery, for gardening even, etc.

Poetical talent, highly desirable in itself, nevertheless demands a solid counterweight in the shape of serious scholarly effort; for the young poet sets up claims that are likely to prove dangerous if he becomes absorbed in them.

The importance of this suggestion can hardly be overestimated. It
is a case of the permanent inhibition of a host of possible evil
tendencies by substitution. The youth who can turn with pleasure
to his violin at every spare moment, never seriously misses the
companionship of his mates. He has, moreover, a never failing source
of enjoyment when there is nothing to interfere with his happiness,
and an equally inexhaustible source of consolation when the waves of
life are rough.

180. Projects springing from passionate impulses, and betraying their existence by their interference with order, diligence, and the distribution of time, must be resolutely thwarted. This step is rendered all the more urgent when several share in the same plan, above all when ostentation, party spirit, and rivalry enter as impelling factors. Such things must not be allowed to gain ground; they very quickly vitiate the soil which education has been at such pains to prepare for tillage.

181. The passions being kept at a distance, the successful grounding of the pupil in morality depends in general on the manner in which instruction coöperates with his occupations. The branch of instruction primarily most important in this respect is religious instruction. The most immediate source, however, of the development of disposition is found in the pupil’s social environment, and it becomes the business of training to cultivate a right spirit or disposition. Let us, therefore, take up the practical ideas one by one.

England and Germany are a unit in insisting upon the necessity of
religious instruction in the schools. Half the elementary schools
of the former country are in charge of the Church of England,
five per cent are controlled by Roman Catholics, three per cent
by Wesleyans, and some forty-two per cent by public boards of
education. All of these schools are subsidized by the state, yet
all, with few exceptions, give religious instruction. In Germany
there are but two strong religious organizations--the Roman Catholic
Church, mostly at the south, and the Lutheran, mostly at the north.
The state establishes all schools, furnishing most of the funds
for sustaining them and controlling their administration in large
measure; yet the morning hour of the day is devoted to instruction
in religion. Not so in the United States. Here, religious teaching
is, to all appearances, permanently excluded from the public
schools. In this condition of affairs there is but one resource:
we must the more diligently insist upon those things that reflect
the content of religion. That is, we must teach children to live in
close coöperative union with their fellows. The subjective side of
this training is portrayed in the sections that follow, where the
transformation of ethical insights into ethical habits is discussed.

182. To speak of strife first, which cannot easily be wholly prevented among children, and which is present to their minds, at least as a possibility, self-help against unexpected bodily assaults cannot be forbidden. A determined self-defence is rather to be recommended, but self-defence paired with a merciful treatment of one’s assailant. On the other hand, it is necessary to prohibit absolutely any arbitrary appropriation of objects, even though these objects should consist of ownerless or discarded trifles. No one must imagine that his mere pleasure is a law unto others. On the contrary, children ought to get used to limitations on ownership. That which has been given them for a certain purpose is to be used for that purpose alone, and must be taken care of with that purpose in view. Promises among children should not lightly be declared void, however foolish and impossible of fulfilment. The boy who, by a hasty promise, puts himself in an embarrassing position must be made conscious of the fact. Let his perplexity serve as a warning for the future. But over-hasty promises are to be accepted as little as they are to be made; and here is where we have to begin in untying the knots in which children occasionally entangle themselves.

It is not undesirable that pupils by their own acts furnish themselves with a few keenly-felt instances of complicated questions of rights. But pleasure in wrangling must be discountenanced; the pupils should learn to prevent and to avoid contention. They may gain enough familiarity with it to realize that it gives displeasure.

183. At this point two paths open to our reflection. In the first place, contention pleases children because it implies strength; in seeking it they are, as a rule, merely giving vent to excess of animal spirits. The outlet in this direction we must block, but we must furnish another elsewhere. Gymnastic exercises, too, are exhibitions of strength; emulation, which is not contention, is a welcome feature of sport and play. Mental activity likewise affords suitable opportunities for excelling; it also provides proper occasions for making comparisons; but relative excellence, children must understand distinctly, is not to be advanced by them as a basis for claims. Where the question is one of degree of attainment,--therefore one of _perfice te_,--the pupil is supplied with a practically useful standard by his own progress and retrogression. To hold up one pupil as a model for another to follow awakens envy; it will be much better, instead, to make allowances where a weak pupil cannot do more than he is actually doing.

In all the ages of the past men have been the teachers of boys. Being
men, they have naturally taken the man’s attitude toward youthful
conduct. When one boy is gratuitously assaulted by another, they have
upheld a sturdy self-defence as belonging to self-respect. In their
eyes an unsuccessful defence is better than a cowardly retreat. With
the advent of women as the teachers of boys it is natural that the
doctrine of passive non-resistance should be emphasized. When women
were only the physical mothers of the race, there was no danger of
the decay of virility, but now that they have become the intellectual
mothers as well, there may be such a danger. It is generally
conceded that the English boys’ schools, like Eton, Harrow, and
Rugby, have been the best English conservers of independent manhood,
for there every boy stood on his own merits, having to fight his own
battles, being responsible for his own conduct, and at the same time
living under a high code of boyish honor. In our own public schools,
where no such _esprit de corps_ is possible, and where the doctrine
of peace at any price is likely to be insisted upon, it is possible
that there may be a distinct decline of virility in the boys. Such
a result would be deplorable; it would work to the detriment of
public education, and would decrease in public estimation the value
of woman’s services in the schoolroom. While discouraging strife, a
teacher may, by a word of approval or excuse, justify an exercise of
primitive defence of the person against unwarranted assault. Manly
social games, like foot-ball, basket-ball, base-ball, are our best
resources in developing those phases of character that are closely
associated with motor efficiency. Here under proper guidance,
self-control, sense of power and efficiency, courage, and almost
every characteristic of virility may be happily developed. That
forethought and supervision are needed is most true, else unlovely
traits of character may easily get the upper hand.

184. The second of the two ways alluded to takes us from the idea of rights to that of equity. Strife is displeasing, but revenge still more, notwithstanding the truth of the saying: what is fair for one is fair for another. Children may indeed exercise their ethical acumen by trying to determine how much one deserves to suffer or to receive at the hands of others for the liberties he has taken or the self-restraint he has practised, but they are not to arrogate to themselves the function of inflicting punishments or of bestowing rewards. Without surrendering their own insight, they must in this respect submit willingly to the authority of their superiors.

A similar course is to be pursued with reference to the distribution of presents, enjoyments, and marks of approval. To avoid giving the appearance of favoritism, the teacher should not, except for very good reasons, depart from the principle of equal division; but, on the other hand, he should refuse to accord to the pupils a right to these free gifts. While permitting them to have an opinion on the appropriateness of a greater or smaller share, he will properly deny them any right to demand by virtue of this opinion.

185. In cases deeply engaging the children’s own sense of justice and equity, complaisance and readiness to yield should not be exacted on the spot. Children must have time to get to the end of their thoughts, and to weary of what is often very fruitless brooding, before they realize that to yield is after all a necessity, and hence in no sense a matter of magnanimous choice. At some future time they may be reminded that their path would have been smoother if the sentiment of good-will had been in control from the beginning and had arbitrated the dispute, or rather had prevented it entirely.

Good-will is to be revered everywhere as higher than right; still the latter must be represented as something that cannot be set aside with impunity, unless it be by common agreement; that is, in consequence of the consent of the holders of rights.

There are two distinct aspects to good-will,--the benevolent, and
the coöperative or social. The well-known story of the Jericho Road
illustrates the first. He is the good neighbor who rescues the life
of the man who has been assaulted by the way. But social good-will
is more than benevolence; it is coöperation for the accomplishment
of common purposes. Among farmers it means mutual care to prevent
aggression, because of unruly stock or bad fences; it involves
combined efforts for good schools, good roads, public libraries,
educational agencies for promoting successful farming, associations
for promoting successful pleasures. In cities social good-will means
coöperation for paving and lighting streets, for the suppression of
crime, for furnishing good water and efficient sewerage, for defence
against fire, for rapid transit, besides the myriad agencies for
promoting the mental, moral, and spiritual welfare of the people.
A man in a city needs to be a good neighbor to everybody, even
though he may know personally but one in a million. In other words,
the civic man must be a brother, not only to him who falls among
thieves, but to him who lives among them; not only to his brother in
adversity, but also to his brother in prosperity.

186. Finally, the degrees of difference among older boys, and especially among young men, with respect to the nearness with which they approach the still distant realization of the idea of inner freedom, are, as a rule, sufficiently marked to be patent to all. The superior excellence of those distinguished for steady and rational conduct is usually dwelt on by the teacher rather too much than too little; children are themselves too keen in observing each other’s shortcomings not to see how far behind the best some are. We ought, therefore, rather to avoid stimulating in children the tendency to belittle others, than to turn their attention to that which does not escape them anyway.

187. The bad conduct of adults near to the pupils will not, of course, be exposed by the teacher; and if publicly known, the example set will repel more than allure, so long as self-interest does not prompt imitation or a search for excuses. But we need not entertain much hope either that a worthy example will be followed; youth is too prone to regard rectitude as a matter of course. Hence it will not be superfluous to call special attention to right conduct, and to give expression to the esteem which is its due. This applies particularly to the time when a growing boy’s outlook over society widens, and he begins to compare many things whose false glitter might deceive him.

There are many aspects of inner freedom. It is possible for a
narrow-minded man to live in perfect tranquillity, so far as his
conscience is concerned. Even if one lived true to Kant’s categorical
imperative, which says, “So act that the maxims, or rules, of your
conduct might, through your own will, become universal laws,” it
would still be possible for one to have a mind at peace with itself
while doing things that a higher code of morality would forbid. For
example, suppose I am an American Indian, and the question arises,
Shall I torture my enemies? Of course: do not the traditions of my
tribe prescribe it? This simply means that our ideals of conduct
grow out of our environment; they are social in their genesis. This
truth shows the infinite importance of making instruction reveal
clearly the best ideals of religion and civilization, for there may
be as much inward freedom, or good conscience, in the slums as in the
wealthy districts of the city. Subjective peace of mind may mean much
or little. A murderer may sleep as soundly as a missionary, but a man
of high ideals is whipped as with scorpions, if his conduct be base.
He feels that his higher self is outraged; he has no peace except
through repentance, restitution, and reform.

188. Fifth. The pupil’s mind, we will suppose, has been properly directed, partly through the social relations obtaining among children, partly through examples and instruction, to the requirements of the various moral ideas, and he has learned accordingly to discriminate with some keenness between will relations. Now the time has arrived for moral education in the strict sense. For we cannot leave it to chance whether our young charges will, of their own initiative, synthesize for themselves noble actions on the one hand and base actions on the other, whether they will take time to reflect, and will, each for himself, apply the lessons taught. On the contrary, they all have to be told, each one individually has to be told, truths that no one is wont to hear with pleasure. The more thoroughly the teacher knows his pupils, the better. By showing them that he divines their thoughts, he supplies them with the most effectual incentive to self-observation. Now the basis of what is commonly known as moralizing is furnished by a retrospective view of the pupil’s conduct for some time past, by references to influences formerly at work within him, and by an analysis of his good and bad qualities. Such teaching is by no means to be condemned, nor even to be regarded as superfluous. In its proper place it is absolutely essential. Many, it is true, grow up without ever having heard a serious word of deserved censure, but no one ought to grow up in that way.

189. Only praise and censure are thought of here, not harsh words, much less harsh treatment. Reprimands and punishments following upon single acts are something different; they, too, may lead to moral reflections, but must first have become things of the past. Moral improvement is not brought about by the constraint of government, nor is it the result of those pedagogical punishments which warn the pupil and sharpen his wits by means of the natural consequences of actions (157). But it is brought about through the imitation of the language of conscience and of genuine honor, as seen in impartial spectators. Moreover, this does not exclude consideration of the excuses which every one readily finds in his heart. But while due allowance is made for mitigating circumstances, the pupil is cautioned against relying on them in future.

190. Ordinarily youth deserves neither strong commendation nor severe criticism, and it is well to guard carefully against exaggeration in either direction, if for no other reason than merely this, that exaggeration either detracts from effectiveness, or else causes, if not timidity, at least an unfortunate embarrassment. There is one species of magnifying, however, which subserves a good purpose, because it enables pupils to see more clearly the importance of trifles and the great significance of their own actions, and in this way helps to counteract thoughtlessness. We refer to viewing the present in the light of the future. The pettiest faults are liable to grow through habit; the faintest desire, unless kept under control, may turn into passion. Then, too, the future circumstances of one’s life are uncertain; allurements and temptations may come into it, or unlooked-for misfortunes. This prevision of the possibilities of the future is, of course, not prophecy, and no such claim should be made for it; nevertheless, it does good service as a warning.

191. When the pupil has been brought to the point where he regards his moral education as a matter of serious import, instruction in conjunction with a growing knowledge of the world may bring it about that a glow of moral sentiment permeates his whole thought, and that the idea of a moral order unites on the one hand with his religious concepts, and with his self-observation on the other. Henceforth the direct, emphatic expression of praise or censure will have to be less frequent. It will no longer be as easy as formerly to give a clearer account to the pupil of what goes on within him than he has already rendered to himself. We may still, however, come to his assistance from another direction, namely, that of general concepts,--a field in which advancing youthful reflection is little by little finding its bearings.

192. Sixth. It is the business of training to remind at the right moment and to correct faults. We may safely assume that, even after a young man has reached the plane of moral decisions, he will still stand in need of frequent reminders, although in this respect individuals exhibit great differences, which observation alone is able to reveal. But that which he is reminded of consists of resolves which lay claim to something like universal validity, but which are not likely to make good that claim when incorrectly formulated or conceived in the wrong connection. General considerations become predominant with only a very few at best; but youth especially sees and experiences so much that is new that the old is easily slighted for the new, and, accordingly, the general for the particular still more. Nevertheless, it is far easier for training to remind and to correct with success where a good, firm foundation has been laid, than it is to support (161–166) when in adolescence nothing is found by which the pupil might try to steady himself.

193. It is evident from the wide divergence among the principles which schools old and new have accepted as the basis of ethics and of systems of justice, that many conflicting, or at any rate, one-sided views may arise when the attempt is made to introduce order, definiteness, and consistency into existing ethical concepts. This whole conflict and one-sidedness of opinion, together with the innumerable fluctuations that may find a place here besides,--all this is likely to be reproduced in youthful minds, particularly where they make it a point of going their own way. Very frequently acquired principles adjust themselves to inclinations; the subjective side of character adapts itself to the objective. Now, while it is the business of instruction to correct error, training must avail itself of those opportunities that reveal a directing of thoughts by inclination.

194. When, however, the pupil has once established confidence in his disposition as well as in his principles, training must withdraw. Unnecessary judging and over-anxious observation would only impair naturalness, and give rise to extraneous motives. When once self-culture has been assumed, it should be left alone.