emergency which may never arise. In all human relationships there
come occasions for the exercise of authority. There is no doubt that
in the relations between parents and child the parent--or elder
person--should be the one in authority, on account of his greater
experience and maturer judgment, quite apart from any question of
sentiment or tradition. But if you wish to exercise authority, you
must make sure to deserve it. Laws and customs give parents certain
authority over their children, but well we know that too few of them
are able to make wise use of this authority.
Not only from the side of our own convenience, but also from the
side of the child's real needs, we must give the young spirit
training in obedience. The child that does not get the constant
support of a reliable and firm guide misses this support; the child
is happier when he is aware of having near-by an unfailing
counsellor, one who will decide aright what he is to do and what he
is not to do. But when I say that the obedient child is happier than
the disobedient one, I do not mean merely that the latter gets into
mischief more frequently, or that the former receives more marks of
affection from the parents. There is involved something more
important than rewards and punishments. The young child would really
rather obey than be left to his own decisions. When he has no one to
tell him what to do, or to warn him against what he must not do, the
child feels his helplessness. And there is valuable tonic for the
child's body as well as for his will in the comfortable
consciousness of a superior authority upon which he can safely lean.
As the child becomes older he begins to assert his own desires in a
more positive fashion, and at about two and a half to three years
the problem of obedience takes on a new aspect. For now the child
has had experience enough to enable him to have his own purposes,
and these often come in conflict with the wishes of the mother.
Should obedience be now demanded? And should it be insisted upon?
There is more involved in this problem than the convenience of
administering the household, or the immediate safety and well-being
of the child. There is involved the whole question of the child's
future attitude toward life. Shall the child become one who
habitually obeys the commands of others, without questioning,
without resisting, and so perhaps become a pliant tool in the hands
of powerful but unscrupulous men? Or shall he be allowed to go his
own way and over-ride the wishes of others, to become, perhaps, a
wilful victim of his own whims and moods, presenting a stubborn
resistance to overwhelming forces that will in the end crush him?
In the case of the very young child absolute obedience must be
required, for the reason that the child is not in a position to
assume the responsibility for his conduct. The will of the mother
must be followed for the child's own safety and health, for the
child has no intelligence or experience,--that is, judgment,--or
purpose to guide him. He has only blind impulses that may often be
harmless but are never reliable. So the first need is for training
in regularity, and this is possible only under the guidance of the
mother or nurse, who _knows_ what is to be done, or not done,
and whose authority must be absolute. So the child must first of all
learn to obey. Later he must learn what and whom to obey.
Recognizing, then, in full the value of obedience, we must be
careful not to exaggerate it and consider it a cardinal virtue.
Obedience is far from being a fundamental virtue. On the contrary,
once established as a ruling principle in the household or anywhere
else, it is easily carried far enough to become a source of positive
harm. To obey means to act in accordance with another's wishes. To
act in this manner does not call upon the exercise of judgment or
responsibility, and too many grow up without acquiring the habit of
using judgment and without acquiring a sense of responsibility. They
are only too willing to leave choice and decision to others.
Decision of character and habitual obedience do not go well
together. Moreover, it is now coming to be more fully recognized
that the progress of society depends not upon closer obedience to
the few natural leaders, but upon the exercise of discretion and
judgment on the part of an ever larger number of those who are not
leaders.
There may be a still greater danger in requiring so-called implicit
obedience of every child. We have learned from modern studies of the
human mind that _doing_ is the outcome of _thinking_ and
_feeling_. When we constantly force children to do things that
have no direct connection with their thoughts and feelings, or when
we prevent actions which follow naturally from their thoughts and
feelings, we are interfering with the orderly working of the child's
mind. We force children to act in ways unrelated to their thoughts
and feelings, and as a result we have many men and women of fine
sentiment and lofty thought who never let their ideas and sentiments
find expression in effective action. In other words, the effect upon
the mind of "thoughtless minding" is not a healthy one.
A large amount of disobedience arises from the fact that the child's
attention and interest are so different from an adult's. The little
girl who is said to have given her name as "Mary Don't" illustrates
this. Mary does a great many things in the course of a day, impelled
by curiosity and the instinct to handle things. Most of her
activities are harmless; but when she touches something that you
care about, you command her to let it alone. This is quite proper.
Very often, however, she is told to stop doing things that are quite
indifferent, and that satisfy her natural craving for activity
without being in the least harmful. Being interfered with
constantly, she soon comes to consider all orders arbitrary and--
disobedience results.
The other side of the problem is seen when a child is told to do
something when he is preoccupied with his own affairs. You may tell
him a second time; very likely you raise your voice. The third time
you fairly shout. This is undignified and it is also unnecessary.
For Bobby has _heard_ the order from the first; but he has not
_attended_ to your wishes. In such cases there is no primary
disobedience; but a frequent repetition of such incidents can easily
lead Bobby to become quite indifferent to your orders; then
disobedience is habitual. The child that has acquired the habit of
ignoring the mother's wishes will not suddenly begin to obey orders
when the emergency comes.
From these two cases we may see that it is important to get first
the child's habit of attending to what is said to him--by making
everything that is said to him _count_. In the second place,
the child must be taught to feel that what he is directed to do is
the best thing to do.
For getting the child to obey we must keep constantly in mind the
idea that we are working for certain habits. Now, a habit is
acquired only through constant repetition of a given act or a given
kind of behavior. The first rule for the parent should therefore be
to be absolutely consistent in demanding obedience from the child.
If you call to the children in the nursery to stop their racket
(because father is taking a nap) and fail to insist upon the
quietness because father just whispers to you that he is not
sleeping, you have given the children practice in _disobedience_. If
they are to be allowed to go on with the noise, this should be because
you openly permit them to go on with their noisy fun, and not because
they may heedlessly disregard your wishes. Direct disobedience is not
to be overlooked under any circumstances. It is true that parents
often give orders that had better not be carried out; but the remedy
is not in allowing the children to disobey, but in thinking twice or
thrice before giving a command, or in agreeing with them upon a course
of action without giving commands at all. By giving no orders that are
unnecessary or that are arbitrary, the child will come in time to feel
that your interferences with his own impulses are intended for his own
good.
[Illustration: Only a good reason can warrant calling an absorbed
child from his occupation.]
We frequently tell the children that we want them to obey "for their
own good." If this were true, we should have little difficulty in
obtaining obedience, for most children instinctively follow orders and
suggestions. It is only when we abuse this instinct by too _frequent_
and _capricious_ and _thoughtless_ commands for our own convenience
that the children come to revolt at our orders.
There are great differences among children in the readiness with
which they adopt suggestions or follow orders. Some children are
easily dissuaded from a line of action in which they are engaged.
Their attention is not very closely filed, and they are easily
distracted, and may be sent from one thing to another without
resenting the interruptions. Such children quickly learn to obey,
and some seldom offer resistance to suggestion; but they deserve no
special praise or credit for their perfect obedience, neither do
their parents deserve special credit for having "trained" such
children. On the other hand, there are children who set their hearts
very firmly upon the objects of their desire, and who cannot easily
stop in the middle of a game or in the middle of a sentence just to
put some wood in the stove. Such children will appear to be
"disobedient," although they are just as affectionate and as loyal
and as dutiful as the others. When you see a child that is a model
of obedience, you cannot conclude that he has been well trained; nor
is frequent disobedience an indication of neglect on the part of the
parents. But the majority of children will fall in the class of
those whose obedience or disobedience is a matter of habit resulting
from the firmness and consistency and considerateness of the
parents.
Unless a child has become altogether submissive, he will not obey
all orders with equal readiness. Alice, who is not very active, does
not display any great virtue if she sits still when you tell her to.
On the other hand, sitting still means to Harry a supreme effort as
well as a great sacrifice; to demand this of him we should have a
very good reason. I know children who are models of obedience in
most matters, but who scream with protest and resentment when it
comes to taking medicine or even to being examined by a physician.
On the other hand, a little boy I know, to whom obedience in general
comes very hard, has such respect for the wisdom of physicians and
for the helpfulness of medicines that he will undergo a thorough
examination and will swallow the bitterest of drugs without even
making a wry face.
If you will look about among your acquaintances, I think you will
find that those who get really intelligent obedience from their
children are the ones who make the least ado about it, and perhaps
never use the time-worn phrase, "Now you _must_ mind me." It is
the weak person who is constantly forced to make appeals to his
authority. It is the weak person who is constantly threatening the
child with terrible retributions for his disobedience. Yet none are
quicker to detect the weakness, none know better that the threats
will not be carried out, than those very children whose obedience we
desire thus to obtain.
Many of us get into the habit of placing too many of our wishes in
the form of commands or orders to do or not to do, instead of
requesting as we would of an equal. Wherever possible we should
suggest to the child a line of conduct, so as to make the child feel
that he is making a choice. You may say to Johnnie, "Go and get me a
pail of water." Or you may say, "Johnnie, please get me a pail of
water." Or you may say, "Johnnie, mother needs a pail of water." You
will perhaps get just as good service in one case as in another; but
the ultimate effect on Johnnie may make the difference between a man
who finds work a necessary evil and one who finds work a means of
service.
From men who have been successful in managing industries and from
women who have managed large households with the least amount of
friction we can learn that there is a way of obtaining obedience
without imposing upon the minds of those under our authority. Whenever
you wish to depart from the usual routine, there is a good reason for
the change, and in most cases the reason can be stated with the
request. When this is done the order loses the appearance of
arbitrariness. If you say to Mary, "I wish you would go out without me
this afternoon, as I have some important sewing to finish," you will
most likely meet with ready acquiescence. If, however, you say, "You
must go alone this afternoon, I can't go with you," and if when Mary
dares ask "Why?" you say, "Because I tell you to," you will certainly
sow the seeds of rebellion. No self-respecting child will accept such
a reason. If at least you make an appeal to your superior judgment,
and say, "Mother knows best," there would be something gained. For now
you are shifting the basis of the child's conduct from your position
of power over her to the highest authority within our reach, namely,
good judgment. The child is thus learning to obey not a _person_, but
a _principle_.
Expressing your wishes in the form of a request, modified wherever
possible by a reason, does not mean that you are to give the child a
reason for everything he is asked to do; for if the child has
respect for you and feels your sympathy with him, he will do many
things that are requested without understanding any reason, but
confident, when he does think of the matter, that you have a good
reason. In other words, where there have been close sympathy and
habitual obedience the parent becomes, in the child's mind, the
embodiment of those ideals or principles toward which he feels
loyal.
In the same way men and women who give arbitrary commands may get
from their assistants formal obedience, but they never get hearty
and intelligent cooperation. Indeed, it is no doubt because we still
cling to the traditions of earlier times, when personal loyalty and
military types of virtue were so prominent in the minds of men, that
we are so slow to learn the need for cooperation in modern times.
The need to-day is for leaders who will inspire their fellows with
enthusiasm for cooperation, who will wisely guide their fellows in
effective service; and of the corresponding virtues in the followers
obedience is _not_ the first.
And yet we must recognize all the time that there are occasions when
a person must do what he is told to just because he is told; and it
were well for one who has to take orders to be able to do so without
fret and bitterness. The child should, however, come sooner or later
to distinguish between those commands that arise out of real
necessities and those that arise from the passion or caprice of
other persons. To the former he must learn to submit with the best
possible grace, with an effort at understanding, or even with a
desire to assimilate to himself. To the latter he should submit,
when forced to, only under protest, and with the resolve to make
himself free.
That confidence is a strong factor in obtaining obedience is well
illustrated by many boys in every village and town. These boys are
notoriously disobedient at home and at school, but on the baseball
field they will follow the orders of the captain without question.
They feet that his commands are not arbitrary or thoughtless, that
they are not petty and personal, but really for the greatest
advantage to those concerned. If we can inspire in our children such
confidence in our motives, we shall have little worry about the
problem of obedience.
In the training of the child we often forget that the child will
some time outgrow his childishness. We must consider not only what
is the best kind of behavior for a _child_, but what kinds of
habits it is best for a child to develop in view of his some day
becoming an adult human being. We want men and women to develop into
free agents, that is, people who act in accordance with the dictates
of their own conscience and their best judgment. With this aim in
view, how much emphasis should then be placed on the matter of
obedience?
Since the infant has no will, he must be guided by others for his
own safety and for the development of his judgment. But we do not
wish him to retain his habits of obedience to others long enough to
deprive him of his independence of thought and action. The growing
child must learn to repress his own many and conflicting impulses,
and to select those that he learns to be best. But if he obeys
always, he cannot acquire judgment and responsibility. He learns
through obedience to value various kinds of authority, and
eventually to choose his authorities; his final authority being his
conscience or principle, not impulse or whim. He learns also by
questioning the principle of obedience to persons, and comes to
guide his conduct by principle or conscience, and not by custom or
convention.
We do not wish to train our children for submission, but for judgment
and discernment. We must, therefore, respect the child's
individuality. We are, however, not obliged to choose between blind,
unquestioning obedience and the undignified situations which arise
from habitual disobedience. Obedience to persons as a settled habit
is bad. The ability to obey promptly and intelligently when the
commander's authority is recognized,--to respond to suggestion and
guidance,--is desirable. Obedience is a _tool_ the parent may use
with wisdom and discretion. It is not an _end_ in discipline or in
life.
We should educate _through_ obedience,--that is, cultivate the
habit of intelligent response,--but we must not educate _for_
obedience,--that is, the habit of submitting to the will of others.
VII.
THE TRAINING OF THE WILL
After all, what is there about a person that really counts? All
experience and all philosophy agree that it is the character; and
the central fact in character is the _will_. Yet the will is
not something in the soul that exists by itself, as a "faculty" of
the mind. The will is a product of all the other processes that go
on in the mind, and can not be trained by itself. Neither can the
will of the child be expected to come to its own through neglect.
Indeed, although the will can not be trained by itself, its training
is even more important than the training of the intellect. The great
defect in our moral training has been that we have generally
attempted to train our children too exclusively through precepts and
mottoes and rules, and too little through activities that lead to
the formation of habits. The will depends upon the intellect, but it
cannot be trained through _learning_ alone, though learning can
be made to help. There are, as we all know, only too many learned
men and women with weak wills, and there are many men and women of
strong character who have had but little book learning. The will
expresses itself through action, and must be trained through action.
But action is impelled by feelings, so the will must be trained also
through the feelings. All right education is education of the will.
The will is formed while the child is learning to think, to feel,
and to do.
We judge of character by the behavior. But our behavior is not made
up entirely of acts of the will. Hundreds of situations occur that
do not require individual decision, but are adequately met by acts
arising from habit, or even from instinct. The experience of the
race has given us many customs and manners which are for the most
part satisfactory, and which the child should learn as a matter of
course. It is thus important that the child should acquire certain
habits as early in life as possible. These habits will not only
result in saving of energy, but will also give assurance that in
certain situations the child will act in the right way. If it is
worth while to have a person knock on a door before entering an
occupied room, or if it is worth while to have people look to the
left and to the right before crossing a thoroughfare, the child can
acquire the habit of doing these things always and everywhere
without stopping to make a decision on each occasion.
But we must remember that in guiding the child to the formation of
these habits, example and practice are far more important than
precepts and rules. Example is more important because the child is
very imitative; one rude act on the part of some older member of the
household will counteract the benefit of many verbal lessons in
politeness. Practice is important because it is through constant
repetition of an act that it at last becomes automatic, and is
performed without thought or attention. In fact, this is the only
way in which a habit can be formed. Having acquired habits about the
common relations of life that do not call for new adjustment every
time they are met, the mind is left free to apply itself to problems
that really need special consideration. Imagine how wasteful it
would be if we had to attend to every movement in dressing
ourselves! You can easily see that there are a great many acts that
bring us in relation to others and that should be as mechanical and
automatic as dressing and undressing.
It is when we pass from the routine acts which are repeated every
day that we come to the field in which the will holds sway. There is
nothing more helpful in the training of the will than the frequent
performance of tasks requiring application, self control, and the
making of decisions. The routine of fixed duties in a large and
complex household furnished to our grandparents, during their youth,
just the opportunity for the formation of habits in attending to
what needed to be done, without regard to the momentary impulse or
mood. Many of our modern homes are so devoid of such opportunities
that there is great danger that our children will have altogether
too much practice in following their whims and caprices--or in doing
nothing.
It is just because the modern home is so devoid of the opportunities
for carrying on these character-building activities that provision
must be made in that other great educational institution, the
school. All the newer activities of the school, the shop work and
the school garden, the domestic science and the sewing, the
recreation centres, the art and the music--all these so-called "fads
and frills" against which the taxpayer raises his voice in protest--
these prove to be even more important in the making of men and women
out of children than the respectable and acceptable subjects of the
old-fashioned school; for these activities are but organized and
planned substitutes for the incidental doings of the childhood of
other days. They are the formal substitutes for the activities by
means of which a past generation of men and women acquired that
will-training and that insight into relations which distinguished
their characters.
[Illustration: Habits of careful work furnish a good foundation for
the will.]
All systematic and sustained effort, whether in organizing a game or
carrying a garden through from the sowing to the harvest, whether in
making a dress or a chest of drawers, has its moral value as
training in application, self-control, and decision, quite distinct
from its contribution to knowledge or skill.
Two or three generations ago no thought whatever was given to the
child's point of view; the authority of parents was absolute, and
there were many unhappy childhoods. To-day we wish to avoid these
errors, and by studying the child we hope to adjust our treatment to
his nature and his needs.
But we must be on our guard against the danger of going to the
extreme of attributing to the child ideas and instincts which he
does not possess. In former times it was considered one of the
mother's chief duties to "break the child's will"; to-day, realizing
the importance of a strong will, we are in danger of assuming that a
child's stubbornness or wilfulness is a manifestation of a strong
will, and we hesitate to interfere with it.