the intimate connection between it and the moral is so generally
conceded as to make it quite superfluous to expatiate on it. On the
contrary, it seems necessary to expostulate with those who claim too
much credit for the feelings, who ascribe to them a moral value which
they by no means possess. Thus, gentleness is not necessarily a virtue;
it may be a mere matter of temperament. Sympathetic impulses, _per se_,
are not praiseworthy. Sympathy quite as often leads us astray as aright;
sympathy, indeed, unless tutored and regulated by moral principles, is a
danger against which we ought to be on our guard almost as much as
against selfishness. Yet, no one will deny that the feelings, when
rightly trained, are of inestimable service as auxiliaries in the task
of moral education.
To sum up, let me say that the wise teacher will appeal to the taste,
the intelligence, and the feelings of his pupils; that he will touch
these various springs of conduct all the time, and get from them all the
help he can. Thus, when speaking of cleanliness, he will appeal to the
aesthetic instinct of the children, awakening in them a feeling of
disgust at untidiness. He will appeal to the prudential motive, by
showing that want of cleanliness breeds disease. "You do not wish to be
sick? You do not wish to suffer? Therefore, it is to your interest to be
clean." But, finally, he will touch a higher motive than any of these.
"If you are unclean, you cease to respect yourself." And the term
self-respect expresses in a condensed form the moral motive proper. It
implies the idea of moral personality, which it is not necessary, nor
possible, at this stage to analyze, but which the pupil will somehow
understand, for his conscience will respond. In many cases the appeal
will be made chiefly to the sympathetic feelings; for through these
feelings we become aware of the pains and joys of others, and thus of
the consequences of the benefits we confer or the evil we inflict. The
sympathetic feelings supply the information upon which the will can act.
They tell us that others suffer or are glad. And yet the strength to
labor persistently for the relief of others' suffering and the
enhancement of others' joy--that we can derive from the moral impulse
alone.
The moral motive is the highest, it is really the only sufficient
motive. Pray, understand me well at this point. I should say to the
child: It is wrong to lie. That is sufficient. It is wrong, it is
forbidden; you must yourself acknowledge the truth of my words, because
you despise yourself when you have told a lie. But, in order to
strengthen your weak resolution, to confirm you in well-doing, let me
show you that it is also contrary to self-interest to lie, and likewise
that it is disgusting to be unclean, and that a wrong done to another
causes pain. Thus the aesthetic, intellectual, and emotional faculties
are called in as witnesses to bear testimony to the moral truths; they
are invited to stand up in chorus and say Amen! to the moral commands.
FOOTNOTE:
[3] It must be remembered also that our knowledge of the right ethical
relations is still extremely imperfect, and that the duty of extending
the knowledge and promoting the recognition of them is perhaps the
highest of all--to which, on occasion, every lesser end must be
sacrificed.
III.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR MORAL TRAINING IN THE DAILY SCHOOL.
The school should be to the pupil not an intellectual drill-ground, but
a second home; a place dear at the time, and to be gratefully remembered
ever after; a place in which his whole nature, and especially what is
best in him, may expand and grow. The educational aim should be, not
merely to pave the pupil's way to future success, not merely to make of
his mind a perfect instrument of thought, a kind of intellectual loom,
capable of turning out the most complicated intellectual patterns. The
aim should be, above all; to build up manhood, to develop character.
There is no school in which moral influence is wanting. The pity is,
that in many schools it is incidental, not purposed. And yet there are
manifold opportunities in every school for influencing the moral life.
Let us consider a few of these.
_1._ The teaching of _science_ lends itself to the cultivation of
truthfulness. Truthfulness may be defined as the correspondence between
thought and word and fact. When the thought in the mind fits the fact,
and the word on the tongue fits the thought, then the circuit of truth
is complete. Now, with respect to the inculcating of truthfulness,
science teaching has this advantage above other branches, that the
palpable nature of the facts dealt with makes it possible to note and
check the least deviation from the truth. The fact is present, right
before the pupil, to rebuke him if he strays from it in thought or
speech. And this circumstance may be utilized even in the humble
beginnings of science teaching, in the so-called object-lessons. For
instance, a bird, or the picture of one, is placed before the child. The
teacher says, "Observe closely and tell me exactly what you see--the
length of the neck, the curve of the beak, the colors of the plumage,"
etc. The pupil replies. The teacher objects: "You have not observed
accurately. The color is not what you describe it to be. Look again. The
curve of the beak does not resemble what you have just drawn on the
blackboard. You must tell me exactly what you see. Your words must tally
with the facts." And the same sort of practice may be continued in the
science-lessons of the upper classes.
Scientists are distinguished from other observers by their greater
accuracy. Intellectual honesty is that moral quality which science is
best calculated to foster. All the great scientists have been haunted by
a high ideal of truth, and a gleam of that ideal, however faint, may be
made to shed its light even into the school-room. It is obvious that
this realistic tutoring into veracity will be of special use to children
who are led into lying by a too vivid imagination.
Let me add the following remarks in regard to indirect means of
promoting truthfulness: The teacher can do a great deal to cultivate
respect for the truth among his pupils by frankly admitting an error
whenever he has fallen into one. Some teachers try to save their dignity
by glossing over their mistakes. But even young children are shrewd
enough to estimate such trickery at its worth; while he who manfully
confesses that he has been in the wrong, earns the respect of his class,
and sets them an invaluable example.
It is well also to observe strict accuracy even in matters which of
themselves are of no moment. For instance, in giving an account of a
botanizing expedition, you begin, perhaps, by saying, "It was half-past
ten when we arrived at our destination." Suddenly you stop and correct
yourself. "No, I was mistaken; it could not have been later than ten
o'clock." Does this strike you as pedantic? But if you fix the time at
all, is it not worth while to fix it with approximate exactness? True,
it makes no difference in regard to what you are about to relate,
whether you arrived at half-past ten or at ten. But, precisely because
it makes no difference, it shows the value which you set on accuracy
even in trifles. And by such little turns of phrase, by such
insubstantial influences, coming from the teacher, the pupil's character
is molded.
_2._ _The study of history_, when properly conducted is of high moral
value. History sets before the mind examples of heroism, of
self-sacrifice, of love of country, of devotion to principles at the
greatest cost. How can such examples fail to inspire, to ennoble, to
awaken emulation? The great and good men of the past, the virtuous and
the wise, serve as models to the young, and often arouse in them an
enthusiastic admiration, a passionate discipleship. In the next place,
the study of history may be used to exercise the moral judgment. The
characters which history presents are not all good; the characters even
of the good are by no means faultless. It is in the power of the teacher
to train the moral judgment and to increase the moral insight of his
pupils by leading them to enter into the motives, and to weigh the right
and wrong of the actions which history reports. He will also find many
an occasion to warn against being dazzled by brilliant success to such a
degree as to condone the moral turpitude by which it is often bought.
The study of history can thus be made the means of enlightening the
conscience as well as of awakening generous aspirations--but, let me
hasten to add, only in the hands of a teacher who is himself morally
mature, and fully imbued with the responsibilities of his task. Lastly,
the study of history among advanced pupils may be used to confirm the
moral idea of the mission of mankind, and to set it in its true light.
The human race, as, from the moral point of view, we are bound to
assume, exists on earth in order to attempt the solution of a sublime
problem--the problem of the perfect civilization, the just society, the
"kingdom of God." But on every page of history there are facts that warn
us that progress toward this high ideal is of necessity slow. Whether
we review the evolution of religion, or of political institutions, or of
industrial society, we are still forced to the same solemn conclusion,
that in view of the ultimate goal, "a thousand years are as a day," and
that while we may not relax our efforts to attain the ideal, we must be
well content in case we are permitted to advance the mighty work even a
little. This conviction is calculated to engender in us a new spirit of
piety and self-abnegation, which yet is consistent with perfect alacrity
in discharging the duty of the hour.
There could be no better result from the study of history among young
men and young women than if it should have the effect of impressing on
them this new piety, this genuine historic sense, in which the average
citizen, especially of democratic communities, is so conspicuously
deficient. But this is a digression which I must ask you to pardon.
_3._ The moral value of the _study of literature_ is as great as it is
obvious. Literature is the medium through which all that part of our
inner life finds expression which defies scientific formulation. In the
text-books of science we possess the net result of the purely
intellectual labors of the past; in universal literature we have
composite photographs, as it were, of the typical hopes, sentiments, and
aspirations of the race. Literature gives a voice to that within us
which would otherwise remain dumb, and fixity to that which would
otherwise be evanescent. The best literature, and especially the best
poetry, is a glass in which we see our best selves reflected. There is
a legend which tells of two spirits, the one an angel, the other a
demon, that accompany every human being through life, and walk invisibly
at his side. The one represents our bad self, the other our better self.
The moral service which the best literature renders us is to make the
invisible angel visible.
_4._ I can but cast a cursory glance at some of the remaining branches
of instruction.
_Manual training_ has a moral effect upon the pupil, of which I have
spoken at some length on another occasion.[4]
_Music_, apart from its subtler influences, which can not be considered
here, has the special function of producing in the pupil a feeling of
oneness with others, or of social unity. This is best accomplished
through the instrumentality of chorus singing, while particular moral
sentiments, like charity, love of home, etc., can be inculcated by means
of the texts.
_Gymnastic_ exercises likewise have a moral effect in promoting habits
of self-control, prompt obedience at the word of command, etc. Indeed,
it is not difficult to show the moral bearings of the ordinary branches
of instruction. It would, on the contrary, be difficult to find a single
one, which, when rightly viewed, is not surrounded by a moral
photosphere.
Science, history, literature, and the other branches lend themselves in
various ways to the development of character. But there are certain
other opportunities which every school offers, apart from the teaching,
and these may be utilized to the same end. The discipline of the school,
above all, has an immense effect on the character. If it is of the right
kind, a beneficial effect; if not, a most pernicious one.
The mere working of what may be called the school machinery tends to
inculcate habits of order, punctuality, and the like. The aggregation of
a large number of scholars in the same building and their intercourse
with one another under the eye of the teachers, afford frequent
opportunities for impressing lessons of kindness, politeness, mutual
helpfulness, etc.
The recitations of lessons give occasion not only to suppress prompting,
but to eradicate the motives which lead to it, and to impress deeply the
duty of honesty.
The very atmosphere of the class-room should be such as to encourage
moral refinement; it should possess a sunny climate, so to speak, in
which meanness and vulgarity can not live.
But there is especially one avenue of influence, which I have much at
heart to recommend. The teacher should join in the _games_ of his
pupils. He will thus at once come to stand on a friendly footing with
them, and win their confidence, without in the least derogating from his
proper dignity. And thus will be removed that barrier which in many
schools separates pupils and teachers to such a degree that there
actually seem to exist side by side two worlds--the world to which the
teacher has access, and the world from which he is shut out. Moreover,
while they are at play, the true character of the pupils reveals itself.
At such times the sneak, the cheat, the bully, the liar, shows his true
colors, and the teacher has the best opportunity of studying these
pathological subjects and of curing their moral defects. For, while
playing with them, as one concerned in the game, he has the right to
insist on fair dealing, to express his disgust at cowardice, to take the
part of the weak against the strong, and his words spoken on the
playground will have tenfold the effect of any hortatory address which
he might deliver from the platform. The greatest and most successful of
teachers have not disdained to use this device.
Finally, let me say that the personality of the master or principal of
the school is the chief factor of moral influence in it. Put a great,
sound, whole-souled nature at the head of a school, and everything else
may almost be taken for granted. In every school there exists a public
opinion among the scholars, by which they are affected to a far greater
degree than by the words of their superiors. The tactful master will
direct his chief attention to shaping and improving this public opinion,
while at the same time interfering as little as possible with the
freedom of his pupils. He can accomplish his purpose by drawing close to
himself those scholars who make the public opinion of the school, and
these in turn he can win to fine and manly views only by the effect of
his personality. The personality of the head-master is everything. It is
the ultimate source of power in the school, the central organ which
sends out its life-giving currents through the whole organism. And let
me here add that, if I am in favor of excluding direct religious
teaching from our schools, I am not in favor of excluding religious
influence. That, too, flows from the personality of the true master. For
if he be reverent, a truly pious soul, humble in his estimate of self,
not valuing his petty schoolmaster's authority on its own account, but
using it lovingly as an instrument for higher ends, he will be sure to
communicate of his spirit to his pupils, and by that spirit will open
their hearts, better than by any doctrinal teaching he could give, to
the reception of the highest spiritual truths.
By all these means--by the culture of the intellect, the taste, and the
feelings, by his daily dealings with the young, in work and play--the
teacher helps to create in them certain moral habits. Why, then, should
not these habits suffice? What need is there of specific moral
instruction? And what is the relation of moral instruction to the habits
thus engendered?
The function of moral instruction is to clinch the habits. The function
of moral instruction is to explicate in clear statements, fit to be
grasped by the intellect, the laws of duty which underlie the habits.
The value of such intellectual statements is that they give a rational
underpinning to moral practice, and, furthermore, that they permit the
moral rules to be applied to new cases not heretofore brought within the
scope of habit. This thought will be more fully developed and explained
as we proceed.
FOOTNOTE:
[4] In the address on the subject, reprinted in the Appendix.
IV.
CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES.
The topics of which moral instruction treats are the duties of life. To
teach the duties, however, we must adopt some system of classification.
To which system shall we give the preference? The difficulty which we
encountered at the outset seems to meet us here in a new guise.
For most if not all of the systems of classification commonly proposed
are based upon some metaphysical theory or some theological doctrine. To
adopt any one of these would be tantamount to adopting the theory or
theology on which it is founded; would be equivalent to introducing
surreptitiously a particular philosophy or creed into the minds of the
pupils; and this would be a plain departure from the unsectarian
principle to which we are pledged. Thus, Plato's fourfold division of
the virtues into the so-called cardinal virtues of temperance, courage,
justice, wisdom, is based on his psychology. Aristotle's division of the
virtues into dianoetic and what he calls ethical virtues is clearly
dependent on what may be termed Aristotle's intellectualism--i. e., the
supreme importance which he assigns to the functions of the intellect,
or [Greek: nous], in the attainment of the perfect life.
Kant's division of duties into complete and incomplete is an outgrowth
of the ideas developed in his Critique of Pure Reason; the philosopher
Herbart's fivefold classification reflects his metaphysical theory of
reality; while the systems of ethical classification which are to be
found in theological handbooks betray still more clearly the bias of
their authors.
We can, I think, find a simple way out of this difficulty by proceeding
in the following manner: Let us take for our guidance the objects to
which duty relates, and disregard the sources from which it flows. It is
conceded on all hands that every one is to himself an object of duty,
that he has certain duties to perform with respect to himself, as, for
instance, the duty of intellectual development; furthermore, that every
person owes certain duties to his fellow-men generally, in virtue of the
fact that they are human beings; again, that there are special duties
which we owe to particular persons, such as parents, brothers, and
sisters; finally, that there are certain duties, into which, so to
speak, we are born, like the ones last mentioned, and others which we
can freely assume or not, like the conjugal duties, but which, once
assumed, become as binding as the former. Thus the very structure of
human society suggests a scheme of classification. And this scheme has
the advantage of being a purely objective one. It keeps close to the
facts, it is in harmony with the unsectarian principle, and it is
perfectly fair. It leaves the problem of first principles entirely
untouched. That we have such duties to perform with respect to self and
others, no one questions. Let philosophers differ as to the ultimate
motives of duty. Let them reduce the facts of conscience to any set of
first principles which may suit them. It is our part as instructors to
interpret the facts of conscience, not to seek for them an ultimate
explanation.
Let me briefly indicate how the different duties may be made to fall
into line according to the plan of classification which has just been
suggested. The whole field of duty may be divided into three main
provinces:[5] those duties which relate to ourselves, those which we owe
to all men, and those which arise in the special relations of the
family, the state, etc.:
I. The Self-regarding Duties.
These may again be subdivided into duties relating to our physical
nature, to the intellect, and to the feelings.
Under the head of physical duties belong the prohibition of suicide, and
the duties of physical culture, temperance, and chastity.
Intellectual Duties.--Under this head may be ranged the duty of
acquiring knowledge and the subsidiary duties of order, diligence,
perseverance in study; while, for those who are beyond the school age,
special stress should be laid on the duty of mental genuineness. This
may be expressed in the words: To thine own mental self be true. Study
thine own mental bent. Try to discover in what direction thy proper
talent lies, and make the most of it. Work thine own mine: if it be a
gold-mine, bring forth gold; if it be a silver-mine, bring forth silver;
if it be an iron-mine, bring forth iron. Endeavor to master some one
branch of knowledge thoroughly well. It is for thee the key which opens
the gates of all knowledge. The need of general culture is felt by all,
but the concentration of intellectual efforts on special studies is not
inconsistent with it. On the contrary, special studies alone enable us
to gain a foothold in the realm of knowledge. A branch of knowledge
which we have mastered, however small, may be compared to a strong
fortress in an enemy's country, from which we can sally forth at will to
conquer the surrounding territory. Knowledge may also be likened to a
sphere. From every point of the circumference we can, by persistent
labor, dig down to the center. He who has reached the center commands
the sphere.
Duties which relate to the Feelings.--The principal duty under this head
may be expressed in the twofold command--control and purify thy
feelings! The feelings which need to be repressed are anger, fear,
self-complacency. Let the teacher, when he reaches this point, dwell
upon the causes and the consequences of anger. Let him speak of certain
helps which have been found useful for the suppression of angry passion.
Let him distinguish anger from moral indignation.
In dealing with fear let him pursue the same method. Let him distinguish
physical from moral cowardice, brute courage from moral courage, courage
from fortitude.
In dealing with self-complacency let him discriminate between vanity and
pride, between pride and dignity. Let him show that humility and dignity
are consistent with one another, yes, that they are complementary
aspects of one and the same moral quality. Not the least advantage to be
reaped from lessons on duty is the fixing in the pupil's mind of the
moral vocabulary. The moral terms as a rule are loosely used, and this
can not but lead to confusion in their application. Precise definitions,
based on thorough discussion, are an excellent means of moral
training.[6]
II. The duties which we owe to all men are Justice and Charity:
Be just is equivalent to--Do not hinder the development of any of thy
fellow-men. Be charitable is equivalent to--Assist the development of
thy fellow-men. Under the head of charity the teacher will have
occasion to speak not only of almsgiving, the visitation of the sick,
and the like, but of the thousand charities of the fireside, of the
charity of bright looks, of what may be called intellectual charity,
which consists in opening the eyes of the mentally blind, and of the
noblest charity of all, which consists in coming to the aid of those who
are deep in the slough of moral despond, in raising the sinful and
fallen.
III. Special social duties:
Under this head belong the duties which arise in the family: the
conjugal, the parental, the filial, the fraternal duties.
Under the head of duties peculiar to the various avocations should be
discussed the ethics of the professions, the ethics of the relations
between employers and laborers, etc.
The consideration of the duties of the citizen opens up the whole
territory of political ethics.
Lastly, the purely elective relationships of friendship and religious
fellowship give rise to certain fine and lofty ethical conceptions, the
discussion of which may fitly crown the whole course.