THE PUPIL VERSUS T H K TEACHER By RICHARD LOCHNER THE PUPIL VERSUS THE TEACHER BY RICHARD LOCHNEP L LBI015 MADE BY TIMES PRINTING HOUSE 1317 Market Street Philadelphia THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Two Copies Received MAY. 25 1901 Copyright entry CLASS 4X.XXC. N». Jcoo COPY B. Copyright applied for April, i 9 oi TO EVERY CONSCIENTIOUS TEACHER IN AND OUT OF THE PROFESSION THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFU ELY DED ICATED PREFACE THE CHIEF PRACTICAL AIM OF THIS BOOK IS TO ELEVATE THE POSITION OF THE TEACHER BY INTERPRETING SCHOOL LIFE OF TO-DAY IN THE LIGHT OF ITS HISTORY AND FROM THE STANDPOINT OF AN IDEAL- ISTIC PHILOSOPHY. PHILADELPHIA, NOVEMBER, I9OO CONTENTS PAQE I . THE PUPIL VERSUS THE TEACHER i II. HERBERT SPENCER'S "EDUCATION" . . . . 67 III. THE SCHOOL AND THE CRIMINAL 101 IV. SCHOOL SUPPLIES . . 106 V. DARWINISM AND THE TEACHER 108 VI. HARMONY VERSUS THE LINE OF LEAST RESISTANCE no VII. REFERENCES TO AUTHORS 166 VIII. ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS 140 IX. SOME APPROPRIATE QUOTATIONS . . .146 CHAPTER I. Historic Developments. In the olden time a child was often viewed as a little lump of wickedness; to-day too often as a little angel. The see-saw of history has seldom brought about a stranger change. During the Nineteenth Century the young Hercules, natu- ral science, has come forward with giant strides. Though fraught with much good to the human race, yet a multitude of evils has followed in its wake. A hundred years have passed and the threatening clouds of the French Revolution still hover over us. Has that great experiment in democracy been a failure? In belittling the past and in its hatred for those in power, did it not go too far? In trying to begin anew, did it not wish to throw away the very foundations on which it must build? With much of this spirit in our life to-day, may we not be in danger of losing the soul of truth hidden in the errors of the older age? Long, long before that terrible outburst, were sown the seeds of the new gospel, and when the fury of the storm had been spent, scarcely any side of human life had escaped. Of all the changes good and bad, that followed, the school got its share, and there is need to look more deeply into the thoughts upon which our school work is grounded with a view to getting rid of the evils, and by holding to the good, raise school work to a higher plane. Laissez faire in economics, do-as-you-please in ethical theory, unbridled freedom in abstract democracy, and natural individualism in educa- tion have as their rock-bottom thought this as- sumption: What is natural, is good. When that is cast into the limbo of departed vanities, where it should be, the writings of the naturalist school may be rated at their real worth. A little thinking will show that the word "nat- ural" is quite rubber-like; it can be stretched to cover many sins. Certain easy-going folk, whose consciences take vacations, need never be with- out a balm to heal the wounds which otherwise would prove painful. Their wrong-doing comes natural to them. Certain light-fingered gentry may find their hands wandering toward some- body's pocket. Perhaps such is easy and nat- ural for him to do; though, as a reason for theft it will be likely to carry little weight with the po- liceman who gets hold of the thief. Even were every natural thing easy, it would not therefore be good. In the widest meaning of the word, everything is natural, and if what is natural is good, everything is good. This is shocking enough to one's moral sense to bring the whole thought under suspicion. Much that is natural is surely bad and is so treated by writers who tell us to do this and that, or to use this method and that method because it is the natural one. That some things are good and should be sought for, and others bad and should be avoided, is true alike of law, morals, religion and economics. Should nature be our guide? Should we do as nature does? Nature may mean so many things that it means nothing. Nature neither weeps nor rejoices. Often cruel, merciless and wasteful, nature would justify the most blood- thirsty deeds that blacken the pages of history. "Nature, as positive observation reveals her to us, is a thing that can have no claim either on our reverence or our approbation. Once apply any moral test to her conduct, and as J. S. Mill has so forcibly pointed out, she becomes a monster. There is no crime that men abhor or perpetrate that nature does not commit daily on an exag- gerated scale. She knows no sense either of jus- tice or mercy. ... At one moment she will be blessing a country with plenty, peace and sun- shine; and ^he will the next moment ruin the whole of it by an earthquake. Now she is the image of thrift, now of prodigality; now of the utmost purity, now of the most revolting filth; and if, as I say, she is to be judged by any moral standard at all, her capacities for what is admira- ble not only make her crimes the darker, but they also make her virtues partake of the nature of sin." The friend of naturalism who urges a choice of the good things in nature, so far gives up his fight and owns that he has been sailing under false colors, for he sees that it is the goodness of the thing and not its naturalness that makes it worthy of our choice. Nature from a human standpoint is a mixture of good and bad, though, as having no personality, deserving neither praise nor blame, it may be better to say nature is mor- ally indifferent. Knowing this, it becomes our task rather to raise natural forces to a moral level, than to sit idly by and growl at the fate or ill luck that placed us here, like a brute growl- ing at the sunshine and too lazy to find or make a shady place for himself. In the childhood of the race man was warlike and savage; he built a wall about his city; his lower nature ruled; he knew little how to fight disease, famine and pestilence, and perhaps less how to make nature's powers serve him. As the race grew older, his warlike nature slowly be- came softened ; he even comforts his dying enemy and nurses the wounded back to health; the old, the feeble and unfortunate are lovingly cared for; nature's forces are harnessed; and man's better parts grow in power over the worse. Were we to think naturalism altogether bad, we would do a great wrong. Great is its faith in the goodness of man; yet with all its truth, it fails to mark off sharply the good from the bad; it gives us no test we can trust; and in its eager- ness to foster the good, it forgets to crush out the bad. Both its virtues and vices have found a place in the school-room; and helped by a great philosophy of the day, it has given to childhood a meaning unique in the history of education. CHAPTER II. Evolution and School Method. Closely linked with the doctrine of naturalism has been the great law of evolution, which though bearing many words of wisdom, yet more than once has been a harbor for those who like to back up their fads by a catchy phrase or strike their enemies dumb by uttering the magical words of a popular philosophic formula, "From the homogeneous to the heterogeneous." Yet with all its faults I love it still. In one way it has been worked almost to death. Its upholders, fixing their gaze chiefly upon the good things it has brought, have twisted its meaning in the in- terest of that easy-going optimism which finds in a new phrase a cure-all for the woes of the world. There is a darker side to the picture. Though we can not say with Schopenhauer that this world is the worst of all possible worlds, for we can fancy it much worse; neither can we say with Leibnitz that it is the best. Wickedness as well as goodness has evolved. The mere fact of evolution carries with it no guarantee of right- eousness. Evolution is not a moral law; the survival of the fittest is not now upon a moral plane, and therein lies its greatest weakness. The growth of knowledge has wrought changes in the ways of teaching children ancl governing them. New methods seem to spring up like mushrooms. Teachers are urged to teach this, because the child likes it; or that, because it is interesting; or the other, because it is nat- ural. These stand or fall with their underlying- assumptions: What the child likes is therefore good — What is interesting is therefore good — What is natural is therefore good. None of these is the real ground of our choice either of branches to be taught or methods of teaching. Each may be good, but not necessarily good. Each may be worth something to the teacher, but only as a means to an end, and the end must be ethical. Wherever the child's likings and interests over- ride the moral ideal, those likings should be ren- dered harmless. What is special to each child can be fostered in the school-room only when it conforms to the ethical laws which the school aims to realize. Not to do so brings lawlessness into the school under the plea of individual free- dom and makes the whims of childhood the guide of our school practice. It were vain to deny that danger lurks in the free rein given to Young America. The Revival of Learning; the Reformation; the break-up of the feudal system; the uprisings of the people against constituted authority; the growth of natural science with its companions, agnostic philosophy and hedonistic ethics, have all helped to carry the principle of individual freedom far beyond reasonable bounds, even in some cases so far as to declare too much freedom to be impossible and all restraint criminal. At bottom it is a question of what kind of freedom we are to have; the best is the only kind worthy of the name and that is moral freedom. The sooner we adapt our school methods to that end the better. The results of the new methods in education do not bear out their rosy promises ; the trouble is in the methods, which are based on a one- sided view of human nature, and though their main strength has come from the evolutionists, yet if we look more searchingly into the facts of evolution, there will be found much showing how poorly its meaning has been read. If the law of evolution be true, what is the child? Not a bundle of goodness, by any means. Indeed, it has been said, "Man was formerly little less than an angel; evolution has made him little more than a monkey." In body and mind the child of the civilized man shows many traits char- acteristic of the adult savage. The facts gathered by Darwin and others point to a more or less brutal ancestry. In spite of the work of the Peace Societies and other humanizing agencies, "the ape and tiger" in man are rather slow in dy- ing. In the year of our Lord 1900, certain brawny bruisers received over $30,000 for pum- meling each other in the presence of several thousand spectators. It is needless to multiply instances illustrating the ways in which natural impulses seek satisfaction even in the centres of civilization. Compare the civilized adult with the child ac- cording to the theory of evolution. The man is farther removed from savagery. He has passed through stages, physical, mental and moral, which are unmeaning to the child. The child concerns himself with things rather than thoughts, with physical activities rather than self- criticism. He likes tales of fairies, goblins, drag- ons and other monsters; the grotesque and ab- normal delight him; he admires bigness rather than moral character. These impair his judg- ment, while wider and more varied experience makes man the more responsible being and gives a balance of mind and worth of judgment impos- sible to the child. In his ability to organize, in his greater specialization of function, in his knowledge and guidance of industrial forces, man proves himself on a higher economic plane than the child. Eliminating individual exceptions and allowing for the conflict of economic and physical with the moral and aesthetic and the many ways in which they intertwine and change each other, our abstract comparison proves man better than the child. Such is the result evolution leads us to look for and such we would expect on Ziller's culture epoch theory. With even greater force the same truth applies to the teacher. If the ordinary man be superior to the child, still greater is the superiority of the teacher, socially, mentally, morally, aesthetically and economically. The teacher is one of the fa- vored few. Less than ten per cent, of the pupils that begin education in the elementary schools ever reach the high schools. If education ele- vates, not many pupils will attain the eminence of the teacher. 8 The teacher then being theoretically and, as a rule, practically a better being than the child, let us examine some obvious conditions of American life to see whether the teacher is rated at her true worth. CHAPTER III. The Child vs. the Teacher. On more than one occasion a certain super- vising principal said, "Nine-tenths of the disorder in the school-room is the fault of the teacher." This and other sayings of his rest on the assump- tion, "The child has a right to take advantage of the teacher and the teacher must blame herself if she can not prevent him." Many a time a teacher on taking an unruly boy to that principal, was told, "Miss B., it is your fault." A not very polite but quite forcible proverb sums up that principal's individualistic philosophy, "Each one for himself and the devil take the hindmost." Teachers commenting on deficiencies in the children were told, "It is your duty to teach this, that and the other to overcome these deficiencies." She could take nothing for granted. The child was all rights, no duties; the teacher all duties and no rights that the child was bound to respect. Such a theory stands almost self-condemned. It is a glaring and extreme reaction from the histor- ical school and not only fails to make allowance for the obvious deductions from the theory of evolution, but also overlooks facts essential to the ethical adjustment of the relations between pupil and teacher. When the child becomes a god needing pro- pitiation, and the teacher a worshiper at the 10 shrine, the teacher's position is certainly humil- iating. More than one American boy views the teacher as a lawful prey. Flashy, trashy novels, the influence of the streets, the comparative laxity of home discipline help to render many children less ruly in school and the teacher's lot more bur- densome. Even in the high schools, pupils play tricks on their betters, the professors, and even conspire to produce disorder in the class. Chil- dren and especially spoiled ones have too much power, and they feel it and exercise it. Having its basis in naturalism, it manifests a contempt for authority, a don't-care-I-do-as-I-please spirit. It is no uncommon thing to hear a pupil speak disrespectfully of a teacher. "Do you think I'm going to mind her?" Some even are brazen enough to say to a teacher, "You are only a pub- lic servant. My father pays his taxes. I am en- titled to an education." Such a system in sacrificing the teacher sac- rifices the school work also. A few determined, vicious pupils have a teacher almost at their mercy. Only the exceptional teacher can stand the strain of discipline and suffer but little there- from. In theory teachers are granted but little authority; to maintain that they must be wide- awake, continually on the alert, meeting each out- break as it occurs; held responsible for successful teaching and discipline by supervisors, assistant superintendents, directors and parents, no won- der many teachers go home wearied and worried and perhaps passing a sleepless night or dis- turbed by bad dreams, return to school in an irri- ii table frame of mind. A teacher may be very good morally and possess ability to communicate knowledge and yet fail in an American school be- cause she is lacking in the doubtfully desirable qualities of the police officer. Not only the teacher but also the best boys and girls in a class suffer from the disorder occasioned partly by lax theories. Just as the good citizen pays for the keep of criminals in the jails, so does the good pupil pay for the disorder caused by the bad. The bad boy is kept in the room at the expense of the good, the better sacrificed for the worse. My appeal is therefore for greater strictness and less laxity; for increase in the authority of the teacher and decrease in the power of the children. I once heard an eminent Philadelphia econ- omist and theologian say, "The American child is the terror of the European hotel. In reaction from the strict methods of our forefathers the pendulum has swung too far in the opposite di- rection. Let us help to get it back to the right place." In a lecture delivered July 6, 1900, Professor Schoenrich said, "The fundamental evil in Ameri- can education is a lack of training to obedience. 'Obedience is the first duty of the pupil, of the child, of man,' is one of the first principles in the German system of education. 'But in a free coun- try,' we often hear said, 'we have no right to com- pel the child to obedience; it must be convinced by reasoning.' Aye, if children understood rea- soning it would not be necessary to first educate them." 12 Referring" to tricks played by pupils, I once heard a French professor say, "Such sings would not be sought of at ze Academie." I have rea- son to believe that they would not be tolerated in Germany, either. Speaking of desirable methods a principal said. "The teacher should win the respect of the pu- pils. " So utterly perverted has become the standpoint! Stated in that abstract way, I do not hesitate to say that the very reverse is nearei the truth, "The pupils should win the respect ol the teacher." Respect is a relative term. There are different kinds. The teacher, as such, is en- titled to respect for her authority. It is not to be won. It is to be given as deserved. It should be guaranteed. We now have the anomaly of compulsory education without compulsory obe- dience. The very idea of teacher as superior and of pupil as inferior carries with it the fundamental assumption of obedience to authority. Pupils are not at school to be critics of the teacher; the teacher is not there at their approval. Criticism, appointment and removal of a teacher should be the function of her superiors, not her inferiors. Qualities that one pupil will respect another may not. On any decent ethical theory a teacher is entitled to respect from pupils by virtue of her superior intellectual abilities, her moral character, her recommendations and appointment by those far wiser than children. If she is to win respect, it must be respect for additional qualifications, such as brilliancy, lovableness, not for her author- ity. The integrity of the school rests upon the 13 inferiority of pupil to teacher and the obedience of the former to the latter. That is absolutely essential; for we often obey and respect those whom we do not love and often disrespect and disobey those whom we do. Does that sound odd? None the less it is true. Respect for au- thority, not love, is the absolutely necessary requisite for a school system. We may have both, but if one must go, let it be love. Ameri- can children have not yet reached that culture epoch in which love is all in all. Here we may be met by the example of Pes- talozzi. But let those using Pestalozzi show how he would work in Philadelphia to-day. Could teachers establish relations with pupils as did Pestalozzi? Would it be desirable if they could? Is there no essential difference in the conditions of American life and influence of American insti- tutions, which spoils the analogy and weakens the force of the argument? Moreover, Pesta- lozzi's methods of teaching would scarcely meet with the approval of any board of education at this end of the nineteenth century. In view of all the facts, do we not pay too much in misdirected effort, nervous prostration, waste of school supplies and the long train of evils caused by disorderly pupils? Is it not too much of a sacrifice to give the teacher so little author- ity, so many functions and so much responsibil- ity? Believing our present system works injustice to all concerned, I submit the following sugges- 14 tions as indicating lines along which we may profitably direct our investigations : i. Minimize discipline by minimizing need ror it in the school-room, and thereby 2. Minimize the nervous strain on the teacher (a) Guaranteeing respect for her authority in the matter of order. (b) More varied and efficient punishment than we now have. (c) Holding pupils and parents more respon- sible than we do now. 3. (a) If the teacher be given proper authority and commensurate means for enforcing it, then she can be held strictly responsible for both order and successful teaching of the subjects. (b) If, however, she be denied the appropriate means for enforcing her authority in the school- room, she can be held responsible for neither. (c) If responsibility for order be thrown on parents, pupils and principals, then the teacher can be held responsible only for successful teach- ing of the subjects. I therefore call in question the ethical basis un- derlying the relations now theoretically subsist- ing between pupil and teacher. I shall now pass to a consideration of certain methods recommended for maintaining order in school. 15 CHAPTER IV. The Futility of Reasoning. Reasoning with children is not so good as it has been painted. The child as such is impulsive rather than rational. The limitations of his mind prevent him from seeing his conduct in the light of high moral reasons. No reasons are likely to change the mind of a pupil prone to argue. Moreover, the pupil that appreciates the reasons inherent in conduct and can ac + because of them will seldom be in need of reasoning or moral suasion. What reasons can be given for good conduct in school? Duty to self, to classmates, to teacher, to parents, to society; these may be reinforced by love of teacher and parents, by the desire to please them, by the honor of having done well, by the other good results that follow and the bad ones avoided. Are not these the very best of reasons? If these reasons do not make a pupil good, reason is futile. More than one teacher has found that out by bitter experience. Moreover, unless judiciously used, reasoning has a tendency to lower the teacher to the level of the pupil. It has the appearance of putting the teacher under obligation to justify her conduct to the pupil, who may come in time to view it as his right to have an explanation of the teacher. The opposite course is far better. He is to obey because he is pupil; she to require obedience be- caues she is teacher; the reasons therefor the 16 pupil will understand and appreciate when older, though he may already know the most important. A fallacy runs through the entire argument in favor of reasoning and moral suasion — namely, when he knows what is right, he will therefore do what is right. Non sequitur, as any intelligent person knows. Not only so, but we often sup- pose a child does not know, when he does. Af- ter going to school for six or seven years he is a stupid child that does not know what the school requires in the way of order. Try a seventh grade child; ask him why talking is wrong in the school-room; select other instances of disorderly conduct; question him skilfully, aiming to dis- cover reasons he could bring against it. You will find he knows quite well what is right, but in common with many older folks fails to do right. Let the teacher assume her function self-suffi- cient, not needing justification, giving the pupil no right to an explanation. The school is good; the pupil must assume that. The teacher gives only right commands; he must assume that. To allow a pupil to question either is to strike a blow at the very foundation of school discipline. Appealing to a boy's sense of duty and sense of honor is often useless. Those most in need of it are as a rule those least affected by it. Boys loving honor and revering duty give a teacher no trouble; and in a different sense there is that American "schoolboy honor" whose chief pride lies in shielding culprits. In the strict sense ap- pealing to honor and duty is appealing to motives yet unborn. 17 The few vicious and turbulent spirits in a class that look upon school as a prison, upon the teacher as a tyrant, view an appeal to honor and duty as a confession of weakness. In so far as it partakes of the nature of reasoning it is open to all the objections stated above. Love and kindness are not cure-alls. When in- judiciously used, when bestowed on the unde- serving, their effects are decidedly bad. Need I mention teachers that have failed because they were too kind, too loving, too good-natured? Love and kindness are more or less relative terms; what is kindness to one may not be to another. Frank appreciates his teacher more because kind; John views kindness as a sign of weakness, a bribe almost, and he takes advantage of the teacher. Forgiveness may come too easy and be unjust; and often the disapproval of the teacher amounts to nothing because John respects not the teacher and values not her approval. When the teacher's authority is absolute and unques- tioned, then love and kindness become valuable, additional methods; but while children remain selfish and narrow and fail in duty, so long will love and kindness carry with them no guarantee against imposition. Not love and kindness, but respect for authority and fear of the consequences keep children in order the first days they go to their new teacher. Well and good if she can maintain that order; but let the strangeness wear off and "familiarity breed contempt," she may as well bid good-bye to those first few pleasant days of the new term. Have you never heard it said, 18 ''Miss So-and-So is a successful teacher; she has good order; she gets it by love and kindness"? But does she get it first by love and kindness? Does she not realize her authority of paramount importance in back of it all? Will she not become more distant and dignified if her authority be in danger, and uphold it and preserve it at the ex- pense of her kindness ? A teacher may be kind and dignified too. The pupil may always feel the act coming as from a superior. In these democratic days we are prone to let down the bars between unequals and suffer the consequences. What is a kind teacher? Is it one that gives presents or pets the pupils? Or just one that is not harsh? Such kindness is not positive, but negative or neutral, meaning sim- ply absence of cruelty. Is the kind teacher one that gives encouragement to all? Surely not; for stated thus abstractly she must encourage the bad and undeserving as well as the good. Indis- criminate kindness and encouragement are injus- tices. Not any inherent virtue in kindness per se, but the self-evident justice in encouraging the deserving makes our acts worthy. Just as kindness in the teacher may mean ab- sence of cruelty, so may goodness in a pupil mean only absence of badness. The good boy is often a passive one; the bad often active. He that re- frains from disorder is good, whatever be his motives; he that commits disorder is bad, what- ever be his motives. The activity of the bad boy makes him prominent and his example is more impressive than that of the good boy who is un- 19 obtrusive. Time and time again have I heard a boy try to excuse his own misconduct by appeal- ing to the bad behavior of some one whose exam- ple he followed; never have I heard a boy con- demn his own misconduct by comparing it with the good conduct of a better boy whose example he should have followed. So great is the self- righteousness of the American child! "Two wrongs make a right" is the fundamental princi- ple of the moral arithmetic of the angelic (?) pupil, and sometimes of his parents also. To be more specific, the bad boy is to the good as positive malevolence to "negative benefi- cence," the former expressing itself in active ag- gressions disregarding the rights of others, the latter in passive non-participation in aggressions rather than in positive measures helping to se- cure greater respect for the rights of others. "Secure order by having interesting lessons." Interest is not a cure-all. Pupils may become so interested as to create disorder by jumping out of their seats, jostling each other and by talking about the interesting lesson make it difficult for the teacher to restore order and continue her work. Interest is relative. All can not be equally interested. Not only so, but there are cases in which it is the order that makes the lesson inter- esting and not the reverse. A lesson not interest- ing when the class is disorderly often becomes interesting when order is restored. Why? Per- haps because the principal comes into the room. Pupils brighten up, answer the questions asked, attend earnestly to the lesson which would have 20 been just as interesting in the absence of the prin- cipal had they been orderly. No change in the teacher or her methods, but fear of the constituted authority producing order, made interest pos- sible. This same truth underlies the maxim. "We must have order or we cannot teach." Interest really the means to an end has tended to become the end itself. It has its limits. If what is interesting is good, then what is most interesting is most good. Determining our course of study accordingly, for the boys we might introduce blood and thunder tales of the wild and woolly West; for the girls love stories, the fashions and other vanities of femininity; for both, the comic pages of our Sunday journals, stories of the knight and his lady fair and the court intrigues of the Middle Ages. In addition to this entertaining material ,the boys might be given a course in practical pugilism supplemented by study of the lives of great prize-fighters from Heenan and Savers to Corbett and Jeffries. How interesting! But sufficiently absurd to bid us pause. Yet such absurdity is the legitimate con- clusion of a naturalistic view making interest the be-all and end-all of school methods. Children are interested in many things not good for them. The existence of a principle guiding our choice of interests demonstrates how thoroughly our methods must be subordinated to moral law, to the absolute Ought determining our needs as rational beings. Teachers are urged to prepare lessons before teaching them and have ready materials for work, 21 such as books, pencils, paper, etc. This is good advice, but of itself it will not secure order, though once having order, it tends to reduce the chances of disorder to a minimum. It is quite pos- sible for a teacher to have order and not be ready promptly to distribute materials for work. Though the class be idle while she is getting ready, yet it is under control. On the other hand, a teacher may have a good character and possess teaching ability; may be kind, loving, patient, quiet, industrious and pro- gressive; and yet fail because lacking the spirit which makes those methods the expression of her personality; or possessing it, yet fail because in- efficient punishments make it easy for the vicious to scorn her authority. In the midst of profound silence an unruly pupil may burst forth like a blazing volcano, in an act of disorder completely ruining the lesson so well prepared by a teacher the latchet of whose shoe he is unworthy to un- loose. It is discouraging, yea, even exasperating, and worst of all, it is rank injustice. Such a teacher is worth too much to be sacrificed for the sake of such a pupil or a hundred such. "Order is Heaven's first law." "The most sacred duty of the teacher," says James L. Hughes, "is to maintain good order," and ac- cording to the same writer the most important reason for keeping order is because it trains character. All the more reason, therefore, to make disorder as nearly impossible as can be and all the more reason to have not only a varied and efficient means for encouraging the good, but 22 also a varied and efficient system of punishments to bring upon the head of the culprit the just retribution of his own misconduct and discourage the weaknesses of will and perversities of charac- ter all too common in American life. The next chapter will deal with the nature of punishment and with certain specific modes of punishment now in vogue. 23 CHAPTER V. Punishments. "We are compelled to say that crime has no positive existence except in the particular will of the criminal. Here, then, it must be attacked; here its denial of right must be contradicted and defeated. Such treatment of crime is Punish- ment. "Punishment is per se just; ... it is in reality but the completion or actual and full development of his own act considered as an act of will. . . . But when the law recoils, in the form of punish- ment, on the head of the offender, he is treated in accordance with his right: his act is developed to its logical consequence, and the offender in re- ceiving punishment is really being treated sim- ply with the honor due to a presumptively ra- ional being. "In view of the foregoing results, derived from analysis of the nature of crime as proceeding from that free-will of man which is the proximate source of right, our author finds himself com- pelled to comment adversely on various theories regarding the nature and ground of punishment that are often brought forward. In these theories crime is regarded merely as an unfortunate and regrettable evil and punishment as another evil of like character, to which society must resort in order, by frightful example, to deter others from 24 committingcrime;or for the maintenance of pub- lic safety, the protection of property, the improve- ment of the criminal or the like. These theories are to be termed superficial rather than abstractly false. They are founded on considerations inciden- tal to punishment, and which constitute its extrin- sic justification, rather than on a perception of its intrinsic nature and justification. The consider- ations mentioned 'are in their place ... of es- sential consequence,' but the theories founded on them all tacitly presuppose 'the previous demon- stration that punishment is intrinsically just.' ' ; Recently in an editorial a newspaper com- plained of the prevailing laxity of our times. Silly sentimentalism had made criminals heroes. Foolish young women had sent sweets and bou- quets to convicted murderers. Equally foolish parents had daily sacrificed themselves to spoil the little angel, the "boss" of the household. Such methods are grounded in naturalistic theory, so prevalent during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Abstract democratic individualism with its companions, soulless psychology and conscienceless morality, has had its legitimate fruits in social depravity. School punishments have not escaped its influence. Laxity has put a premium on human weaknesses; indulgence has cheapened character; overvaluation of child- hood has been undervaluation of manhood and womanhood. Fear as a motive to good conduct has been al- most wholly banished from the school. It is bru- tal; characteristic of savagery; fright distracts; 25 and so the plaint runs on. If fear be the cause of brutality, the trolley car is the cause of civiliza- tion and the cart the cause of the horse. Savagery is not altogether bad; civilized people have much to learn. The doctrine of evolution, its corollary the culture epoch theory, in brief the whole his- torical standpoint emphasize the lesson we can learn from primitive man. The child is the sav- age in little. Between the character of a people and the nature of their government a definite re- lation exists, says John Stuart Mill. Absolute democracy will not work in an American school- room; absolute monarchy is far better. Children need it; it is the better means to our end. Such is the lesson history teaches. "Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him." Doubtless, there may be too much whipping. It was a fault of the school of ye olden time. Nearly every breach of discipline and even failure in lessons was punished by flogging. We have gone to the other extreme and abolished it. Wisely? Let us see. Just as differences of char- acter exist among different tribes of primitive men, just so may we roughly classify the pupils in the school-room. The few good boys behave under any teacher; the indifferent "smile as the wind sits"; the positively bad boys, few though they be, are enough to keep the teacher's blood at the boiling point and keep her from using gentle methods with the other boys. Responsibility for all is on the teacher's shoulders. To control 26 those most in need of it, she must use moral sua- sion, the very method least likely to prove effec- tive with those whom science shows to be most in need of methods more suitable to wild, savage and vicious natures. If the older folks erred in their indiscriminate use of whipping, so have the newer in their indiscriminate rejection of it. In the history of man conscious recognition of the moral law has been comparatively late in making its appearance as the guide to righteous- ness; therefore as a rule it is comparatively late in making its appearance in the history of the individual. This truth of evolution proves the error of moral suasion. Thus, too, as William T. Harris shows, the child is nearest to nature; his mind is "immediate (or potential)"; physical im- pulses predominate; pains and pleasures are rul- ing motives; muscular prowess is his ideal. Not only such considerations, but facts drawn from the history of education, lead Rosenkranz to recommend corporal punishment for young chil- dren. Strange indeed it is that a method so nearly universal as corporal punishment should have its historical importance entirely over- looked! "In philosophy, all that is new was once old; and all that was old in time assumes new phases." It becomes our duty to discover the new phase of corporal punishment suited to our time. A few determined bad pupils can make a teacher's life a burden. Why not have corporal punishment for them? "Ah," says one, "you will degrade them." "The teacher," says another, 27 "will abuse the privilege." Nevertheless, more than one teacher has been degraded by the dis- respect of authority shown by pupils that have abused their liberties in the absence of punish- ments adequate to restrain them. Choose be- tween pupil and teacher. Which shall be de- graded? Which upheld? Which abuse is the worse? Which more likely to happen? A pupil as faithful to his duty as the teacher is to hers will not need a whipping. Nearly every class has its degenerates. From their dis- obedience in the first instance spring the disorder for which the teacher is held responsible. Quell that disorder. Stern measures are needed, espe- cially when disobedience is willful. Give a teacher the means, a variety of punishments. Then if she fail, it will not be because of lack of means to uphold her authority. That excuse would be dead. Not only has there been the anomaly of com- pulsory education without compulsory obedi- ence and without compulsory accommoda- tions, but, with the raising of the standard for the teacher and the increase in her responsibil- ities, there has also come a decrease in her au- thority. Over-worry not over-work becomes the bane of teaching. External means for maintain- ing order have been reduced and those remaining in many cases are worthless by reason of pre- vailing social conditions. The chief burden is thereby thrown on the mind of the teacher. I ask not "Is this condition expedient, wise, ad- visable?" but first and fundamentally, "Is it just? Is it right?" Corporal punishment has been abolished in Philadelphia. But at what a cost! Study it out and it becomes appalling. Nervous prostration and other ills, with resulting doctor's bills; the injury to the teacher's disposition and reputation; the damage done to the good name of the school ; waste of school supplies and destruction of school property; sacrifice of lessons and the injustice done to better pupils; friction with parents, and worst of all, the weakening of character — all these may grow out of the first acts of disorder that the teacher can not check at once for the lack of adequate and varied means to nip in the bud. Must a teacher put up with an unruly pupil? Has she the privilege of putting him out of the room? Not always ; sometimes she is told to try to keep him in until lessons are over before disciplining him. Meanwhile the damage is being done; the teacher's authority seems to lessen just in pro- portion to the number of commands she gives to such unruly pupils. Where the disorder is delib- erate, aimed to annoy the teacher, the pupil gains his point. A few such pupils have the teacher at their mercy. The lessons are broken up. Or- der becomes possible only at the expense of the lessons. They must be neglected; order requires all the teacher's attention. W'ho pays the piper? Once upon a time a boy in school was guilty of an act of very low vulgarity. He was instantly sent home. After the parents had appealed to one of the authorities, the teacher received a note from the same telling him to remember "he was a boy once himself." This is no fairy story, e'en though it starts like one. "Honor thy father and thy mother." Has this Commandment outlived its usefulness? If the shameless acts of ill-breeding so noticeable in some of our boys and girls are marks of honor, I do not care to have any, at least, of that kind. Inborn brazen audacity and perversity are inten- sified by the license permitted under lax condi- tions. "Cultivate a boy's good qualities; devote all your attention to them and his bad ones will die of starvation." Will they? Easier said than done, for the claim ignores conditions outside of school life that continually feed and develop the bad. Read the fable of the farmer and the fox, and learn. A boy whose misconduct degrades the teacher should be given a dose of his own medicine. Does he like to fight and bully ? Whip him then; it's better than a lecture. Can he not keep his hands off other boys and their property? Tie his hands and confiscate some of his own property. It's better than moral suasion. Does he jump out of his seat? Strap him down or let him stand up out of the way as long as the teacher remains standing. He'll be glad enough to stay in his seat next day. As acts of disorder are closely connected, going from bad to worse, it is essen- tial to squelch them on their first appearance, giving them no time to influence others by bad example. 30 Philadelphia has no corporal punishment and that at a time when by very contrast it would be most effective. Means of getting pleasure and of avoiding and allaying pain have multiplied; pain becomes looked upon as an absolute evil; chil- dren's crying as a sign of pain must be stopped at all costs; so children become pampered and flattered until swelled heads become epidemic. Counter irritation by means of the rod would re- duce the swelling. Opponents of the rod miss its historic meaning. The Church, the State and the School are founded on authority. That au- thority will remain rock-bottom,, absolutely es- sential until people outgrow or outlive the need of it. Visible signs — religious ceremonies, the policeman and his club, the pedagogue and his birch — are authority made manifest. More espe- cially do these signs appeal to children and to others in the symbolic stage of thinking. The rod hanging over the teacher's blackboard and the teacher's privilege of using it confer respect by virtue of the hidden meaning. A burly ruffian attempted to strike the little sheriff bent on ar- resting him. "When you strike me, you strike the whole State of Massachusetts!" exclaimed the doughty officer, whereupon the ruffian col- lapsed. Authority objectified in the principal commands respect even of a disorderly class. Even though whipping may be given only by a person selected, yet the rod in each teacher's room as the symbol of authority would have an unconscious influence for good. 3i "Had I been whipped more when a boy, I would be a better man now. Had my parents overcome my willfulness, my position in the world would now be better." Have you never heard such testimony? Fear yet has its uses. Two cases now in mind bear me out. The father is feared, respected and obeyed; seldom whips and never apologizes for it; the mother is loved the more, but disrespected and disobeyed; whips often, and apologizes for it afterward. In another case the father is easy and has no control over the child ; but the mother demands, requires and gets obedience. Whatever be the theory, facts such as these should be interpreted, not ignored. Each teacher has a program for the day's work. Allowing an hour for assembly, recesses and dis- missals, four hours are left for actual teaching of branches acquired. This is the main, positive work of the teacher, her direct, immediate pur- pose. Whatever be the end in view — moral char- acter, mind-training or imparting knowledge — whatever be the passive conditions — order, au- thority or the state of society — nevertheless the chief active work of the teacher is to teach les- sons laid down in the program. Moral character can not be taught ; it is partly a resultant of teach- ing; it is the justification for education; it is the ultimate end, education being one of the means. Just as that end is more likely to be attained by giving a maximum amount of time to actual teaching of lessons, just so can that maximum be best attained when its negative condition — order — is guaranteed and made as nearly inviolate as 32 possible. School programs rest on that idea; no time is given for keeping order. Order is as- sumed all the time. Such is the ideal. Really, it is often interfered with and broken up. Lax methods of punishment do not discourage inter- ferences. As far as possible acts of disorder should be settled in school and settled at once. Why ? "Have we not suspension for unruly pupils?" True; but its worth depends on fear of parents, their ability ito control the child, the power of social condemnation, the difficulty of getting the pupil back, and the nature of the pupil himself. Not one of these can be trusted. Some parents have no control over their children. " Parents are not good enough," says Herbert Spencer. Many lack the education needed to "train up a child in the way he should go." Business inter- ests interfere with others. More still have no knowledge of educational literature and know lit- tle of the thousand and one trials thwarting the teacher's purposes. Yet such folk will dic- tate to a principal the way to run a school. How devoutly I have wished they could try it for a month! Not knowing the parent beforehand, one cannot tell whether suspension will be good or bad. Have you never seen a parent more un- ruly than the child? When defended in wrong- doing, the pupil returns as bad as ever and often worse. What think you of a parent suggesting a very hot place as the fitting abode for a teacher? The more fractious pupils view the school in a wrong light. Among them a suspended boy be- comes more or less of a hero; the halo of notoriety 33 delights him. He even enjoys being at liberty to run the streets during his suspension and per- haps expresses a willingness to risk another dose of that pleasant medicine. Moreover, the great world has its attractions and a desire to leave school is engendered. Suspension of some boys is but a means to realizing that desire. "I'll put you to work, if you are again suspended," threat- ens an angry parent, whereupon the heart of the young hopeful (or rather hopeless) leaps for joy. Suspension is not made public and parents are thereby saved from the shame which publicity would cause. Publicity, too, could not shame a person of low character associating with birds of the same feather, because they blame the school and the teacher rather than themselves. The only public opinion such folk care for does not con- demn them. However, purely external consider- ations may make suspension of some value in hard cases. The parent, while upholding the child, yet hates to visit the school for various personal reasons not difficult to discover. Some pains may be taken, therefore, to avoid a repeti- tion. Teachers are advised to use suspension only as a last resort. Why? It is looked upon as a reflection upon the teacher, evidence showing inability to control the pupil. His absence de- creases the percentage of attendance, for which the teacher is held responsible. The school suf- fers. Principals feel the resulting dishonor. Friction with parents is unpleasant; valuable time is lost. A pretty dilemma, forsooth! If the child 34 is suspended, the school loses prestige; if not sus- pended, he is a living menace to teacher and classmates. Used too often, suspension loses much of its good effects. The pupil soon "learns the ropes" ; getting back is easy. Its moral influence weakens as it becomes indiscriminate. Considered per- haps the most severe punishment except final ex- pulsion, at times it degenerates into a cure-all that cures little. Its frequency cheapens it; its severity lessens by repetition; its intensity dimin- ishes as more and more offences are made pun- ishable by it. No agreement exists as to what misconduct merits suspension. In the face of so many adverse social conditions, we cherish it still — almost the only remnant of the authority that secures unity to school life. Forlorn hope! Removing power from the school, placing the culprit beyond its jurisdiction, throwing him upon a sympathetic environment, leaving punish- ment to the whims of parents, it loses its terror, it dribbles away its value as an example to others, it undermines the authority it aims to support. Too much time intervenes between the offence and the punishment; the effects are not visible to others; even when punishment is inflicted at home, the wrong-doer may deny it in the presence of his classmates, who have no proof to the con- trary. Strange! Backed up by a psychology emphasizing correlation of activities, teachers in presenting lessons are urged to reinforce oral teaching* by pictures or diagrams appealing to the eye, by objects and materials appealing to 35 touch, yet in inflicting punishments, that same psychological principle is conspicuous by its ab- sence. "A knife that won't cut is not much of a knife; a class that won't class is not much of a class and a member that won't member is not much of a member," said a bright young Ph.D. Under these forcible words is hidden a vital criticism ex- posing the fundamental fallacy of present-day practices — attempting to manage an essentially socialistic institution on an individualistic basis. Individualistic theory and practice growing out of the impulses culminating in the French Revo- lution were and are professedly a contradiction of the State, whose authority in the School is manifested by demanding respect for law and subordination of individual inclinations to the general welfare of the class. The School has sur- vived not because of individualism but in spite of it, and individualism can be of value only when justified by the moral purpose implied in the history of education — only when it has its final ground, its reason for being in that which it is not — only when it ceases to be individualism as such. Suspension has value as an act of authority implying the right to exclude an individual that does not conform to the school standard and denying to that individual the right to an educa- tion whenever that individual by his act violates the conditions that validate the right to an edu- cation for himself and others. The right of an in- dividual to an education is thus not absolute but 36 conditioned upon the security and integrity of that right universalized. When a turbulent pupil by his behavior robs others of the right to an education, he thereby denies it to himself and his act of self-alienation should bring retribution upon his own head. Detaining pupils after school has its value, too. as an act of authority. Essentially grounded in justice, a restriction on liberty for the violation of law, it is none the less ineffective as a deter- rent or reformatory measure. Ten or twenty minutes detention is scarcely proportionate to the evil resulting from even minor acts of mis- conduct. Usually the same boys continually need the detention; they become more or less hardened to it. It is open to abuse by becoming indiscriminate. At times it punishes the teacher more than the pupils. Laxity is encouraged if the teacher does not watch pupils detained and the punishment becomes almost worthless. Watching is not altogether a pleasant duty; the time could be better spent. Under individual- istic ideas, class detentions are utterly wrong and good pupils often feel unfairly treated, discourag- ing their good conduct. Yet under a social sys- tem with social responsibility recognized, class detentions are thoroughly right; they imply crit- icism of the passivity of the good pupil in his fail- ure to defend his rights by passing merited con- demnation on evil-doess and by shaming them into a better frame of mind on the playground and elsewhere, neither associating with them nor encouraging misconduct. Laughter on the part 37 of good pupils, makes the bad more eager to create "fun," so cruel to the teacher. Verily, many a teacher is like charity; she "suffereth long and is kind." Not long ago three young men were going to night school evidently bent on in- sulting the teacher. Said one, "If she brings me up to apologize, I'll tell her to go to Iceland." Would detention meet such a case as that? A proper class spirit would make that kind of be- havior impossible. In full swing with prevailing theory, we hear it said, "A noisy class is caused by a noisy teacher; a quiet teacher makes a quiet class." Substitute teachers are living contradictions of that dog- ma. Did you never note the rejoicing of a class of twelve-year-olds upon hearing of the absence of the regular teacher? The noise of the class in such a case often begins on the playground and in the room ere the substitute has a chance to say a word, noisy or quiet. Mere quietness of the teacher is no guarantee of a quiet class. If one be not convinced of the existence of that spirit which views restraint as an evil and the teacher as a lawful prey, let him associate not merely with children, but with "old" boys; let him hear their loud guffaws at the pranks played upon their teachers and professors; let him read class records describing mean actions positively in- sulting to the older men that should have been respected. If he be not convinced, then he is scarcely open to conviction. 38 CHAPTER VI. How? Realize thoroughly the falsity of naturalism. Give no theoretical or practical sanction to wrong motives. Give wickedness no chance, give it no right to a chance; failing that, as little chance as posible. Grant a pupil no right to be interested in doing evil, no right to torment teacher or class- mates. Revive the conception of the school as a social organism. Clearly unfold its meaning. Mark off sharply the rights, duties and functions of pupils, parents, teachers and authorities. For- sake that misleading abstraction "the child" and get nearer to the real, living, concrete child with which we have to deal — a human being with de- sires, feelings, volitions, with passions and weak- nesses, but also with a moral law implicit within, a universal nature uniting him with the Divine. To bring those weaknesses under the sway of moral law, to bring order and harmony out of the chaos of struggling feelings is the ultimate duty of education. Remember then a child is not as a lump of clay easy to mold this way or that at the mere will of the teacher; nor is the teacher a tire- less engine, an everlasting machine, a senseless automaton. No; but a real, living human being too; yes, with rights and feelings and undertaking sacred duties — duties that command respect of the thoughtful man the world over; yet she must 39 enter the school-room in America and worm her way into the good graces of a child, "Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good." Woe unto her that fails! Meet the shady side of child nature with a va- riety of punishments, discriminately used. As far as possible guard the teacher against imposi- tion. Demand obedience, compel obedience at least to the point of non-interference, the indiffer- ence point, passing which idleness, inattention and indisposition become positive aggressions on the rights of others. A pupil that still proves unruly under such conditions is out of place in a school-room. Put him out and keep him out. Experience demonstrates the folly of giving trial after trial to one deserving it not. Methods of punishment have as their ideal their own aboli- tion, aiming to produce a nature no longer in need of them. Let that be borne in mind. In giving more power and authority to the school and to the teacher, less license and fewer privileges should be given to pupils. Privileged characters usually become a nuisance. Let priv- ileges be granted seldom and then only to the deserving. When abused, it is always in the power of the teacher to recall them, giving pupils no right to question her judgment or demand an explanation. Press, pulpit and school might co-operate to raise the standard of intelligence and elevate home life. More needful is it for parents to get in touch with the institutional life of the school. Meetings for parents point the right direction. 40 I realize how little time folks have after work is done, yet none the less many of them waste golden hours talking nonsense, trash, gossip and kindred frivolities, that might better be spent in learning how to train children. When public opinion is wrong, let the school be as firm as Gibraltar, against which waves of incompetent criticism dash in vain. Unity of educational system is demanded by our principle. Only with great danger can pri- mary school be cut from grammar and grammar from high schools. The end and beginning should mutually determine each other. Thus grammar school practice must be guided not for the bene- fit of the pupils leaving at the close of the grammar school course, but for the bene- fit of those continuing on to the high schools. Economic forces trench upon the province of the school by drawing pupils away. Catering to them, compromising with them, being guided by them is utterly vicious, unless those forces be ethically right and typical of what must be through all eternity. Thus must the ideal social state be our aim. The plan submitted in this book has many ad- vantages. Guided by a moral idealism empha- sizing justice, it avoids the dangers of naturalism and saves its good qualities. As the school and teacher must take so much responsibility, so are they given the implied authority commensurate with their responsibility, thus enabling the school to manage its own affairs, regulate its own disci- pline without interference from those who should 4i be given no right to have opinions on subjects they have never investigated. The specialization of function and division of labor inherent in the plan is distinctly an advance in method and in line with the progress of economic science. Having secured the negative conditions, the fundamental requirements of teaching, the pos- itive factors may be better developed allowing the greatest freedom under law and a better kind than before. Engendering respect for law and authority, guarding the teacher against impo- sition, it saves worry, makes better teaching pos- sible, enabling those in power to hold a teacher strictly accountable for the condition of the class at the end of the term. Something surely would be wrong with a teacher failing under such con- ditions. 42 CHAPTER VII. Teachers. A wild, noisy, illiterate teacher is a contradic- tion in terms. Mr. Emerson E. White gives an interesting contrast of two classes. In the first, pupils "walked heavily on the floor, lounged when re- citing, handled books and slates noisily, and otherwise kept up a din of poorly concealed dis- order. There was, indeed, insubordination in their look, voice and bearing." The teacher "was earnest and determined, and his pupils seemed equally so." In the other class, "pupils glided noiselessly from seat to class; the books and slates were handled carefully; and a quiet order, born of affection and good will, pervaded the room." Mr. White explains this contrast as follows: The teachers "had the same plan of marking, the same system of reporting to parents, the same re- wards for success in study and conduct, etc. There was doubtless some difference in details, and even in plans; but the real secret of the marked contrast in their success was deeper than method or system. It zuas in the teachers. One failed because he had not in himself the elements of control, and the other succeeded because she possessed them." 43 "And yet, how many teachers are looking for the cause of their failure in discipline in external conditions — in school furniture, in patrons and home training, in principal or school director, etc. — little realizing that there are teachers, wait- ing to be called, it may be, who can step into their places, and, under the same conditions, easily change discord to harmony, and conflict to peace." The ethical value of Mr. White's "explana- tion" depends upon the truth of naturalism which has already been shown inadequate. Conditions are assumed to be essentially just and right — which they are not; whatever they be, it is the teacher who must measure up to the conditions and not the conditions that must be changed and moralized — which ought to be done. Funda- mentally, then, the battle rages about what is and what ought to be — the real or the ideal. Mr. White totally ignores the latter as far as "the ought to be" is concerned, for present conditions are accepted without criticism as needing no change and perhaps eternal. In his account Mr. White leaves out many es- sential particulars. Does he tell us anything against the moral character of the first teacher outside of a mere generality? He says nothing to indicate the inability of the first to teach. He ac- cuses him of no breach of duty. As far as we know, the first teacher was not noisy, illiterate or ill-tempered. He may even have been kind and loving, good-natured and brilliant. No charge is brought against him for meanness, bad 44 habits or disqualifications of any sort save "he had not in himself the elements of control." Investigation has discovered peoples whose manners, customs and morals seem to us a topsy- turvy nightmare. Every-day life discloses to us examples showing that "one man's meat is an- other man's poison." So pronounced is this rela- tivity that it becomes difficult to lay down an ab- solute rule for practical affairs. So entangled are the activities entering into civilized life that Mr. White's explanation is altogether too simple. Recognizing as he does farther on in his book how external methods may stimulate the activity of children for good, he fails to see the darker side of the picture. Thus he underestimates the influence of external conditions for bad and makes no allowance for the relativity of "elements of control" to the conditions under which the control is exercised. "Elements of control" needed to-day may not be those needed in the past or those needed in the fu- ture. A static view, ignoring the past, making no provision for the future, overlooking the eth- ical ideals of justice and righteousness, is defi- cient historically, unprogressive and utterly per- verted. "For in the isolated consciousness of the finite, whether it be of ourselves as finite, or of any other object, we are estranged from ourselves, blind to our own real nature, and unconscious of that which yet we imply in every word we say and every action which we do. We are, above all, in want of a Socrates to call our attention to 45 the universal basis of our existence, and to force us to understand ourselves.'' What is implied in the act of teaching, in the child 5 s act of going to school, in the child's dis- obedience, in the teacher's efforts in discipline? Does Mr. White read any meaning into the dis- orderly conduct of the first class, except to blame it on the teacher? Did he take the trouble to find out whether or not any of the pupils entered that class determined to have "fun" with the teacher? Suppose the teacher went in with lessons pre- pared, ready to do his duty. Suppose every pupil did the same. Would disorder have followed? Where, when and by whom was the first breach of duty committed? Mr. White does not say. That view which blames all on the teacher, that which blames all on the pupil, that which blames all on external conditions are alike false and alike true — in part only. Nor is it certain "that there are teachers wait- ing to be called, it may be, who can step into their places, and, under the same conditions, easily change discord to harmony." The ease may be more seeming than real. It is hard to fancy a teacher that "easily" can do those things, unless with exceptional pupils. To the outside observer no strain may be apparent, but ask that teacher at the end of the day whether there was not a strain due to being continually alert, eyes and ears ready to detect mischief. For certain, in a large city it is an exceptional class that does not put some such strain upon a teacher's mind. Much of it is unjust; it requires the teacher to 46 meet out of her subjective resources conditions she had nothing to do in creating; forces and fac- tors rooted in the past ere she was born. Sup- pose in the teacher's life no Saturday, Sunday or holidays intervened; how many of them could stand the strain? "The vital factor in a school is the teacher." Yes; and for that reason she should be protected from the injustices yet inherent in the struggle for existence. Then with righteousness can the misfits be weeded out. Mr. White's "contrast" and "explanation" are scarcely fundamental, scarcely large enough to be typical of all cases of failing teachers. "Study the individual child so as to better adapt your methods of teaching and discipline." Very good advice; but it has its limits. With all the other things recommended to teachers, remember that the teacher has the child at most but a few years, not geologic epochs. What with her day's work, preparation for future lessons, reading up educational literature, perhaps belong- ing to societies, attending meetings and lectures, she has hands and mind quite full. What shall we think of a principal advising his teachers to study up at home methods for getting at unruly pupils? Must she take the school home with her? Must she be all teacher? Is there no time she can call her own, except during sleep and perhaps not always that? Must she twist and stretch school methods this way and that, and worry and plan to make them fit the exceptional or bad pupils? That is one kind of child study. Under it all is 47 the great question already suggested: How far must the school standard be lowered to level down to the bad pupil? How far must the pupil, whoever he be, be made to level up to the school standard? Choose. Moreover, not much value is likely to be de- rived from studying the child in isolation from the multitudinous influences of heredity and en- vironment. To get facts most helpful to us in managing the bad boy would often require methods likely to be deemed inquisitorial in a free country. That democratic liberty of asso- ciating with all kinds of folks is far from being wholly good in its effects on the character of the pupil. Cut off from these associations, studied empirically like a chemical compound, child- study gives little better than an "inventory of the facts of mind." The real ethical value of such facts is lost, unless they be interpreted in the light of a rational historical development The ideal meaning they have for us as moral beings must be the essential basis and clearly conceived pur- pose of our investigations. "Current psychology, especially of the 'syn- thetic' sort has erred and strayed from the way, beyond anything possible to lost sheep, because of the unclear or inadmissible metaphysical no- tions with which it operates. We have, first, an attempt to construe the mental life in terms of mechanism or of the lower categories. This has led to the most extraordinary mythology, in which mental states are hypostasized, impossible 48 dynamic relations feigned, logical identities mis- taken for objective temporal identities; and then the entire fiction, which exists only in and through thought, is mistaken for the generator of thought. Here again nothing but criticism can aid us. We must inquire what our 'synthe- sis' is to mean, and what are the factors which are to be 'synthesized,' and what are the logical con- ditions of such a synthesis. This inquiry can not be dispensed with by issuing cards of questions to nurses and young mothers, or by re-discover- ing world-old items of knowledge by the easy process of constructing new names for them. The dictionary may be enriched in this way, and charming stories gathered concerning the age at which 'our little one began to take notice,' but this journalistic method is more likely to con- tribute to the 'gayety of nations' than to psycho- logical insight." None the less, child-study is valuable to the teacher if she know how to interpret the results. 49 CHAPTER VIII. Various School Offences. Teacher (during a lesson) — "Johnny, put down your hand." Hand goes down. Teacher (at dismissal) — "Now, Johnny, what is it you wanted to say?" Johnny — "Please, ma'am, I saw a tramp in the hall walk away with your gold-handled um- brella." What a wealth of practical pedagogy is hidden under that simple incident! Just as in a previous chapter, order was shown to be the general con- dition assumed, teaching the lessons the chief active, particular work of the teacher, just so the integrity of the lesson and the continuity of atten- tion becomes the immediate purpose to be real- ized. Preserve them, minimize interruptions, economize time. The teacher lost her umbrella, but she followed a sound pedagogic rule. One can imagine a class in which pupils are allowed to talk to each other at certain times, and when commanded by the teacher, they stop at once. But would it work well? Scarcely; for it is quite likely to violate the rule just laid down. Once grant pupils such a right, where will it end? Would they talk only about lessons? Baseball and football games are more interesting; so are personalities. Are they to talk to teach each 50 other. If so, are they fit for that work? I doubt it. "Give him an inch, he'll take an ell." Wise are they who forbid talking. One of the most dangerous disorders in the school-room, it is a tacit violation of authority and contrary to the economics of education. It is most insid- ious, so seemingly trifling, so easy to do, so hard to stop, such a splendid foil for other disorders, so provocative of other mischief. Not only wearing upon the nerves and dividing the teacher's attention, but also breeding disrespect in other ways, it makes her task harder than ever. Talking and its twin demon, calling out answers and complaints, are a formidable pair. Much less evil would it be, if evil it be at all, to gag the habitual talker for a while at the beginning than to risk the evils following some gentler course. Standing in direct causal relation to the offence and used at once, it more forcibly appeals to un- derstanding and imagination than detention or other deferred, inconsequent punishment. Cheat- ing, quarreling, fighting, meddling, annoying monitors and boys sent to the blackboards, are often made possible by the habit of talking that has fastened itself upon the class like an Old Man of the Sea about the neck of Sinbad. Is it not bad manners for a child to talk when the teacher is talking? Would it be any too severe to shame him as he has put indignity upon the teacher? A certain class had a number of gum chewers. The teacher said nothing, but kept them after school; then calling in three other teachers, said, "A chewing gum society is being 5i organized. Mary Jones has been elected pres- ident because of her skill in chewing. Mary and members, give us a specimen of your art. Chew!" Each one had to do a share, unpleasant as it was. Remarks were made by each teacher on the impropriety of chewing, and thoroughly shamed, the pupils w r ere given a lesson more ef- fective than keeping them in or confiscating their gum during school hours. Could any method be invented for shaming talkative pupils into si- lence? The whole school suffers; other teachers receiving the talkative pupils at the end of the term feel the burden. Bad enough is the waste of time and neglect of lessons consequent on talk- ing, but worst of all is the effect on the character of the pupil. Take it all in all, occasional down- right impudence is less demoralizing than habit- ual talking. Only one rule will work for getting paper off the floor: Each pupil must be responsible for the floor under and nearest his desk. The paper ought not to be there. He is to pick it up not as a punishment, but because the teacher says so and for the sake of neatness and cleanliness ; not because he has put it there, but just as one would clean in front of his home. The teacher can brook no reply, such as. "I did not put it there; Willie Smith did it." Practically a criticism of the teacher's judgment, it allows a pupil the right to deny her authority and make a complaint against a classmate, as if the teacher were there to redress grievances, investigate charges and be a servant at the beck of anyone choosing to use her 53 for his personal welfare, the class to the contrary notwithstanding. Such complaints create hard feelings among pupils. Often, too, a pupil de- nies putting paper on the floor when he himself has done it unwittingly, and one of the most con- temptible acts he can do is to sweep it about un- der the desks of his neighbors, taking more trou- ble than would suffice to pick it all up. Missiles of many kinds are often thrown, especially when the teacher is at the board or in specting work in the class. Opportunities for mischief offer. To reduce them, perhaps the teacher stands sideways when writing on the board and turns frequently, facing the class to prevent mischief. Time is lost and the teacher's work is less efficient by reason of the divided attention and resulting mental strain. This and many other disorders could be obviated were there a watcher in each room relieving the teacher of nearly all the strain of discipline and thereby increasing her efficiency as a teacher. No doubt there are objections to such a plan; but merely in a hypothetical way let me ask, Is there not more than one teacher in the United States who would willingly pay for the services of such a watcher, could she spare the necessary sum? Acts of disorder unforeseen, or done behind the teacher's back, growing by what they feed on, may become so numerous that it is impossible for one person to see and punish and eradicate them all. 'Then let the teacher face the class all the time, never going among the pupils." Ah, but then she suffers the loss of board work and indi- 53 vidual instruction, and her results fall below the mark at the end of the term. It will never do to forget how often disturbances are maliciously planned to hurt pupils and teacher, or even to create laughter enough to be enjoyable to all but the teacher. A pupil may be wiser in his knowledge of right and wrong than we suppose. While he knows the purpose of his attending school, the purpose of the school, the requirements and some reasons therefor, the effects of bad conduct and the ne- cessity of punishment, yet in the class he finds it hard to forget that he is a chum of Frank Brown, friends with John and Harry and Will. He does not rise above his childhood. This he shows in passing notes, using class time for personal purposes, using classmates as individuals whose duty it is to carry out his wishes. Writing and passing notes is contradictory of the fundamental idea of the school. The usUal secrecy observed proves the child's knowledge of its wrong. He should for- get his friends with their immediate personal re- lations in his devotion to their higher interests as his classmates. That is the ideal. To sum up principles: Authority demands obe- dience; its economic aspect requires a minimum of interruptions ; socially, the individual must be subordinated to the class; ethically, duty is the supreme law for all. Violations, as such, point to punishment as their legitimate development, primarily for the sake of justice, secondarily to guard the common rights of all which constitute the only ground for giving the right to any. Thus 54 the pupil's right to an education is not absolute, but conditioned upon the foregoing principles. In civil and criminal law, abuse of property rights may justify confiscation of the property in the higher interests of society. Just so may the teacher appropriate the property of the pupil. A ruler used as a drumstick thereby has its own purpose contradicted and the owner may be held to have forfeited his right to it. The principles just stated throw light on the question, How far should a teacher interfere in the personal affairs of the pupils? Suppose, for instance, Johnny says Frank struck him, what shall the teacher do? Investigate it at once? No; as teacher it becomes her duty to ignore the complaint during the lesson, command order and investigate, if at all, after school. From the school standpoint both pupils are out of order; their actions conflict with the fundamental ideas. Cases may be so violent as to demand the sum- mary ejection of both plaintiff and defendant from the room. To give pupils a right to an im- mediate hearing is dangerous. Where can we draw the line? How many complaints can be recognized? Some one will say, "That is an in- justice to the pupil/' Is it? Well, any other plan would be unjust to the teacher and to the thirty or forty other pupils besides the culprits. More- over, the injustice to the individual is but seem- ing. It is but the strictest justice to him in con- formity with his purpose as a pupil to deny him the right to an immediate investigation of his complaint during a lesson. 55 Contrast these two plans : A. During lessons a pupil has the right to make a complaint and have an investigation thereof. B. No such right should be given to any pu- P ii. What follows from the first plan? 1. The pupil subverts his own function and purpose as a pupil. 2. He has the right to break in upon the les- sons at any time, upon a trumped-up charge even. 3. The class becomes of less importance than the individual. 4. It gives a pupil power over the teacher, who must be at his service for personal reasons, as a judge or arbitrator, and lowers her dignity and lessens her authority. Her purpose as a teacher is thus trenched upon. 5. During the investigation, what are the other pupils doing? 6. It virtually puts the lessons at the mercy of the pupil who may choose not to have them and use a complaint to gain his point. 7. The bad habit generated weakens the pu- pil's character. He becomes more at the mercy of classmates who tease him for the purpose of hearing him cry out. Adversity easily daunts him. Self-control for better purposes lessens. 8. Carrying this analysis to its conclusion, it finally gives the pupils the right to utterly destroy the school system. What will the second plan do? 56 1. In general it avoids the dangers of the first. 2. It stimulates self-control and strengthens character. 3. It is in complete harmony with the princi- ples shown to be at the basis of education. Enough has been said to show the method of viewing and treating school offences. In order to emphasize their almost infinite variety, let me specify a few besides those already mentioned. Many ways of teasing classmates — pulling their hair, sticking pins in them, caricaturing them, calling names, etc. — rolling marbles, kicking and dropping objects on the floor, stamping, hum- ming, cat-calls, whistling, throwing ink, disfig- uring desks, walls, boards, books, misusing pen- cils, rulers and other supplies, attracting the at- tention of classmates by various devices, laziness or disobedience showing itself in badly executed drawings, reading novels or other inappropriate material — all these offences may happen in a sin- gle day, in the same room, and several may be committed by the same pupil. For this variety of disorders have we a commensurate variety of punishment? Is it just to blame the teacher for it all; is she really the cause of it; is she morally responsible? In view of what has been said, what kind of ad- vice should be given to teachers? The teacher's dignity and authority are of su preme importance, absolutely essential. In or- der to better secure them the following sugges- tions are offered: 57 Allow no familiarity. Let there be few privi- leged characters, such as monitors, the fewer the better. Keep each one as strictly as possible in his place; give him no right to go into the supply closets or meddle with the articles on your desk. Avoid lowering yourself to their level by saying "smart" things, creating laughter, and putting yourself under obligation to them. A pupil is a pupil, inferior; the teacher is teacher, superior; he is not to speak to you without per- mission. Allow no calling out, no talking, no changing of seats without permission — no criticism of your methods, whether implicit or explicit. Interest yourself seldom in pupils' per- sonal affairs, games, sports, quarrels and the like. Allow no contradiction of what you say. Squelch it at once. Much of a teacher's power comes from keeping up her dignity; always appearing to have reserve force, keeping each person at his distance, her authority becomes feared and re- spected partly by reason of its inscrutableness to the pupils. That view which identifies fear of authority with frightening a pupil out of his wits is too absurd to need criticism. Let the pupil feel his inferiority and he will re- spect you. Give very few privileges and those only to the most deserving, to those least likely to abuse them. Do not argue with a child. Don't assume that he has a right to an opinion on a subject he has not investigated. Being a child, the limitations of his mind prevent him from see- ing the question in a broad and impartial survey. 58 What you say to him should be as from a supe- rior, not from an equal obliged to justify your course by an argument. Ask him questions elic- iting facts rather than for a description or theory defending his misconduct. When a pupil is told to get in order, he is to get in order, not give an explanation why he got out of order. If he at- tempts an explanation, check him at once, espe- cially when he tries the "baby" act of cloaking his own misconduct under that of another. What offences should be overlooked? Taken in the abstract, judged by mere size, there are many; judged by tendency, habit, character and ethical principle, there are few. Unless you wish to put a premium on human frailties, overlook as few as possible. A mistake on the side of strictness is better than a mistake on the side of leniency. Consider your position, relations to the pupil, and your abilities, and then aim high. Especially is a high standard both in work and conduct to be put before advanced pupils. A pupil after going to school six or seven years should be familiar enough with school to know what is expected of him. Yet do we not often find large pupils as hard to manage as the smaller ones? Is it because the older ones, while being more nearly rational than younger ones, are also more refined in trickery and less awed by author- ity? Reduce discipline to a minimum; keep teaching at a maximum. Clearly understand the purpose and importance of a lesson yourself. Select the chief points and teach them thoroughly. Give a 59 few important reasons; many reasons and illus- trations confuse a child, who, as a rule, can not discriminate sharply enough to give each its rela- tive importance. Seldom allow a child to ask a question during a lesson. Only where authority is absolute and commands implicitly obeyed, can a pupil as a general rule be permitted to question the teacher. His questions are often personal, beside the point or unimportant to class work; they should be deferred until school work is fin- ished. Economy demands preparation for the day's work, not only of lessons, but also of the details of management. It would be well for a beginner to have upon her desk a paper containing sug- gestions to which to refer on entering the room, such as: Is the room properly ventilated? Are ink-wells filled, slates clean, paper and pencils ready? Have I the necessary books within reach? If at recess and dismissal there are a few spare moments, have the pupils pick up the paper from the floor and put it in the basket as they go out. As the pupils come into the room, they are to go to their desks, not wander about the room or look out the windows. It is well to have them occupy spare moments before school with prep- aration of lessons. "My, my!" some one will exclaim. "What a lot of things a teacher must be ready for! What an awful mess to remember!" Yes, exactly so; 60 and should they read a few more works on edu- cation, attend a few lectures, talk with a few prin- cipals, the methods, advice and "duties" recom- mended become simply bewildering. The few points specified herein are insignificant in com- parison. Will the teacher's mind ever be free from these burdens? Certainly not so long as she bears them patiently; not so long as present practices are viewed as just and right; not so long as the functions of discipline and teaching are concen- trated in one person with little authority to carry them out; not so long as the school is faithless to its historic purpose and too much at the mercy of the individualizing forces of industrial society. To the rescue ! One hundred years hence what meaning will the historian read into our school life of to-day? 61 CHAPTER IX. Conclusion. "I am whatsoever is — whatsoever has been — whatsoever shall be: and the veil which is over my countenance no mortal hand has ever raised." Man is the child of the past and the parent of the future. Rambling now so long in the great world, seeking outwardly for the "peace that passeth understanding," he has ever failed and is beginning to return upon himself to find it in the innermost depths of his own soul. He has swept the starry heavens with his telescope and finds no end; he has looked into the abyss of time and finds no end; high and low has he sought with all eagerness to find God in the mere world outside and has found Him not. Dwarfed into insignificance by boundless space, hemmed in by a life — "a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities" — an atom in the universe, a moment in the everlasting, he has been appalled, terrified by the awe-inspiring mys- teries crowding thick upon him and sees with bitterness the wreck of the dearest hopes this life held in store for him. Long enough in bond- age to the hard fate from which there seemed no escape, he is now rising in rebellion against a sordid agnosticism, entrenching himself upon the impregnable rock — Mind — the Mind which gives 62 unity to all. In it do the infinites meet, the eter- nities melt. In it history gets its meaning and man his destiny. Agnostic metaphysics has had fitting company in social utilitarianism, hedonistic ethics, individ- ualistic economics and soulless, empirical psychol- ogy. Voices are raised against them and in no un- certain tone demand a return to first principles. In speculative philosophy the cry "Back to Kant" has echoed and re-echoed along other lines. The batteries of rationalism are beginning to rake fore and aft with effect. Socialism is growing apace. In France, Germany and Belgium it has expressed itself in political parties of some im- portance. The growing demand for municipal ownership; agitation for single tax, for shorter hours of work, for higher wages and reforms too many to mention are evidences of its spirit. Industrial organization, co-operative societies and the trusts are important factors in the new move- ment. Even millionaires are coming to recog- nize a social responsibility in the use of wealth, and strangest of all, individualist newspapers, in emphasizing it, fail to see their own inconsist- ency. Social and economic interpretations throw new light upon old facts. Man has a so- cial inheritance, a moral inheritance, an economic inheritance as well as a physical and individual inheritance. The historical method is revealing its resources. Kant and Hegel through their dis- ciples have been made to speak tolerably plain English. Their influences for good have been great; their efforts directed against agnosticism 63 have been largely successful; their "souls are marching on." To the outcry against the baneful influences of naturalism and agnosticism in these lines, I add mine against their influences in school life. Looking at man from the dawn of history to the sunset of evolution, what a picture of despair they paint ! "O Priestess in the vaults of Death, O sweet and bitter in a breath, What whispers from thy lying lips? 'The stars,' she whispers, 'blindly run.' ' : Gazing with intent eyes and solemn thought upon that earth you love so well, upon those scenes that met your eyes morn after morn from happy childhood's sport to manhood's stern real- ities; upon those faces whose image is graven in golden lines within your breast; thinking on those dearest ties of all wherein are treasured the hopes, ideals and aspirations of a sacred life whose light has shed a cheering glow along the thorny way and planted in your heart the hopes of nobler, purer, holier life beyond this earthly sphere — it dawns upon you that these bright dreams are doomed to utter and inevitable disap- pointment. In aeons to come those scenes fade away, those faces disappear forever; all have van- ished to return no more. The "voiceless dust" hath claimed its own. Death reigns supreme. The earth in its restless way shall move slower and slower; the sun wanes dimmer and dimmer. The pulse of life doth cease to beat in distant worlds. Slower yet do the planets move; nearer, 64 nearer to the sun the worlds approach drawn by resistless gravitation, when of a sudden, with mighty rush and roar, the whirling globes with thunderous crash, ne'er heard by mortal ears, do come together, and with growing heat intense, the aggregated mass doth swell and swell, diffus- ing over greater space a vaporous nebula. And all for nothing — cosmic evolutions, a swirling, lifeless mass of interacting molecules — without a purpose, without a meaning, without a God. "Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life; '* 'So careful of the type?' but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, 'A thousand types are gone: I care for nothing, all shall go. " Thou makest thine appeal to me: I bring to life, I bring to death : The spirit does but mean the breath : I know no more.' And he, shall he, "Man, her last work, who seemed so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, 65 "Who trusted God was love indeed, And love Creation's final law, — Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravin, shriek'd against his creed, — "Who loved, who suffer' d countless ills, Who battled for the True, the Just, Be blown about the desert dust, Or seal'd within the iron hills? "No more? A monster then, a dream, A discord. Dragons of the prime, That tear each other in their slime, Were mellow music matched with him. "O life as futile, then, as frail! O for thy voice to soothe and bless! What hope of answer, or redress? Behind the veil, behind the veil." That is the last word of naturalism. 66 HERBERT SPENCER'S "EDUCATION/' What knowledge is of most worth? is the ques- tion discussed by Mr. Spencer in Chapter I. Un- less we postulate a static unchanging form of society, no absolute answer can be given. The worth of knowledge is relative to the needs of the people, their surroundings, their historic ori- gin and position. Not one of these can be fixed a priori and no particular form can be taken as the society typical for all eternity. ' r In order of time, decoration precedes dress" (p. 5). Why does it? Why should it? We are not told. Cases cited by Mr. Spencer to prove his claims are taken chiefly from savage life. 1. Under such conditions the skin of the sav- age serves the purposes of clothing. He is al- ready dressed. Exposure to extremes of heat and cold has habituated him to it. 2. Travelers whose testimony is advanced infer the discomfort of the savage because they would be uncomfor- table under the same circumstances. The savage is not uncomfortable, though the European would be. 3. If anything, the savage views dec- oration of more worth than what Mr. Spencer calls "dress." From the savage's point of view Mr. Spencer's implied criticism is of no worth. So the savage, if wise enough, could turn Mr. Spencer's argument against him, saying, "Do without dress, harden yourself as I do. Such would be immensely useful in saving time, labor 67 and money. You have not shown your idea superior to mine." 4. Admit the relativity of knowledge and define dress in relation to its pur- poses, then in any given tribe, dress precedes ornament. 5. Among the Esquimaux does or- nament precede dress? Are not the Jews to-day more given to decoration than their ancestors who lived in Judea in by-gone ages? Is the Ital- ian woman of to-day less or more gaudy in dress than the Roman matron "in the brave days of old"? Are the Greeks to-day less orna- mental in dress than when Socrates taught? 6. The prevalence of a desire for decora- tion becomes on Mr. Spencer's theory a test of advancement — in inverse ratio. Thus, the gorgeous displays of millinery in our centres of civilization are really relics of savagery brought up to date. 7. Mr. Spencer fails to in- corporate the universal demand for ornament into a philosophy of aesthetics, thus missing its deeper meaning. 8. Is it true of the animal kingdom from which man is supposed to have descended that decoration precedes dress? If not true, why and how did man ever come to re- verse the process? 9. The prevalence of orna- ment depends on many conditions; but whatever they be, on Mr. Spencer's philosophic theory it is the fittest to survive and has not outlived its usefulness. "Among mental as among bodily acquisitions, the ornamental comes before the useful. Not only in times past, but almost as much in our own era, that knowledge which conduces to per- sonal well-being has been postponed to that which brings applause" (p. 6). It is a long, long step from "decoration precedes dress" to the "ornamental comes before the useful." No such separation and opposition of the ornamental and useful can be maintained. The ornamental came into existence and persisted only as a useful ad- junct in the struggle for life. Nor can Mr. Spen- cer's fundamental ethical teaching cast any odium on the ornamental, if the ornamental gave pleas- ure to the person. Nor can it be admitted as stated that "the ornamental comes before the useful." Farther on in his book, he places first "activities which directly minister to self- preservation" as most useful and "knowledge im- mediately conducive to self-preservation is of primary importance." But if the ornamental so overrides the useful, the race would long since have been extinct. This puts Mr. Spencer in a di- lemma. He would have to give up either his theory of the ornamental and its opposition to the useful or narrow the meaning of the term useful so as to deprive it of its value as a strong support to his wide philosophic theory. He appeals to history. "In the Greek schools, music, poetry, rhetoric and a philosophy which, until Socrates taught, had but little bearing upon action, were the dominant subjects; while knowl- edge aiding the arts of life had a very subordinate place" (p. 7). Mr. Spencer is probably trying to read into the "arts of life" the meaning given 69 them by the nineteenth century. Even an ama- teur knows how profoundly the action of the Greeks was affected by their schools and how in- timately intertwined with and growing out of their ideal of life. Nor can we expect otherwise if we properly read the meaning of evolution. Doubtless in those ancient days as in these mod- ern ones, the confusion in the life of the practical man arose from not consciously understanding himself and acting on a consistent philosophy, or rather from acting on all sorts of notions and theories without searching for their philosophic basis. History shows extreme fluctuations in social and moral conditions. Whether we view them with Spencer as instances of the rhythm of motion, or with Hegel as organic development — thesis, antithesis, synthesis — yet it remains true that the state of knowledge, the advancement of learning, or the progress of the sciences, is not the determining factor in morality. No neces- sary connection exists between knowledge of righteousness and doing right. At the dawn of the twentieth century, it may be doubted whether we with all our vast knowledge are really more moral than people in the best periods of Greece and Rome or in China or in ancient Israel. Af- ter reaching a great and glorious eminence, both Greece and Rome fell. Yet at that time their knowledge was far superior to that of the heroic age. The comparison of American with Athenian life, made by Professor Fiske, a disciple of Spen- cer, is not altogether favorable to Uncle Sam. 70 It still is necessary to guard against the thief, for he has grown wiser as well as the honest man. In the preface to his "Principles of Ethics" Pro- fessor Bowne says, "In the great bulk of duties that make up life, men of good will can find their way without a moral theory," and he might also have added without that knowledge which to-day is spoken of as scientific. This may be empha- sized by examples taken from Mr. Spencer's "Data of Ethics" and "Principles of Sociology"; in both are mentioned certain peaceful tribes among whom a high order of moral life prevails, but certainly not a high order of scientific learn- ing. Had Mr. Spencer gone more deeply into the history of education, he would have found exam- ples contradicting his thesis — "the ornamental comes before the useful." Even granting it true of the schools of Athens, it is false of education at Sparta. Education in ancient China, in Persia and in Judea disprove that "knowledge aiding the arts of life had a very subordinate place." If I have read and heard aright, then China should be a shining example of Mr. Spencer's utilitarian agnosticism in practice. I can not say that I have been impressed with the beauty of Chinese art; can you? Yet the "arts of life" have re- ceived much attention there, even to the point of stagnation. Thus far Mr. Spencer's claim merits the criticism of Professor Roscher on Carey's "Past, Present and Future" — "It is rank with in- exact science and unhistorical history." A wide survey of life shows clearly that the practices of 7i a people can be understood only in the light of their ideal as a family, tribe, city, state or nation ; yet many a "practical" man is prone to deny the existence of the ideal because he can not hear it jingle like the dollars in his pocket or see it dan- gle in front of his eyes like a jumping-jack on a string. It is too much to presume scientific knowledge sufficient to satisfy all our needs. I can not see how the knowledge that soap is made by the chemical action of the natural fats and oils with the alkalis is a whit better than the knowledge that enables one to read the meaning of a pic- ture or of a period of history. If this latter knowl- edge be called scientific, the difficulty is not solved but simply removed, for instead of a cri- terion to decide between the scientific and non- scientific, we would need one to decide between the claims of the various sciences themselves, for their range has been so widened as to include what was not before considered scientific. As it is, even now such a criterion is needed. Though there may be scientific principles according to which a picture is painted or a period of history interpreted, it is not those principles that consti- tute the chief interest of the picture or the period ; nor is it the perception of those principles that makes its meaning real for us as moral beings. "Throughout his after-career a boy, in nine cases out of ten, applies his Latin and Greek to no practical purposes" (p. 7). But (to use a phrase of Mr. Spencer's) is this not due to "adap- tation to environment"? If it gives pleasure to 72 its possessor, how can it be bad? and if it give pleasure, is it not useful, is it not practical? Without asking how Mr. Spencer got his fig- ures — "nine cases out of ten" — his condemnation by no means applies only to students of Latin and Greek. Of necessity many, many students must apply their physics, chemistry, etc., to no practical purpose. For practical purposes in this world at least can not be determined beforehand and it is consequently impossible for any student to tell just what sciences and how much of each he should require in his school life in order to meet his particular practical purposes in later life. Nor can Mr. Spencer's condemnation refer to any defect in Latin and Greek. If it be wrong to apply Latin and Greek to no practical purpose, this counts against the motives of the learner, not against the subjects ; and it does not matter what be the subjects, the learner still must bear the blame for not applying them to practical pur- poses. Practical purposes are not their own jus- tification. Many wicked purposes are intensely practical and scientific knowledge at the com- mand of a murderer may but make him more skilful in doing the deed and covering up his tracks afterward or in escaping the consequences if caught. Scientific knowledge is by no means free from the strictures which Mr. Spencer puts on the classics. At the most he can claim they have outlived their usefulness. They are yet rather lively corpses. School education should aim at practical pur- poses — such is the implication of Mr. Spencer's 73 theory, i. We are not agreed what practical purposes are. 2. As before stated, they can not be determined a priori, especially in a dynamic, transitional form of society. 3. Consequently as purposes are relative to the state of society, we must have an eye to the probable future form. 4. Supposing we could adapt our school methods to practical purposes, it has not been shown that such would be wholly good. Our subordinating the ideal to the practical might produce a sordid stagnation. 5. If practical purposes mean money getting, the "business of life," an emphatic pro- test must be made against practical purposes. 6. There is a deeper unity of meaning in the his- tory of education that overreaches the implied separation between the practical and the ideal. Among progressive nations I doubt whether Mr. Spencer can find any instance of a system of edu- cation holding its own for a long period of time, based upon what he calls "practical purposes." Every such instance if he could find any would contradict his sweeping condemnation of past practices. "To prepare us for complete living is the func- tion which education has to discharge" (p. 16). Yes, but what is complete living? Is it more than a mere generality? For the Buddhist it is something far different from what it is for the Christian; different for the monk and for the lib- ertine; different for the philosopher and the dog- catcher; different for the stoic and epicurean. So runs the story; and each age gives its moral meaning and philosophic setting to its practices. 74 Even in these days in the centres of learning so many are the clashing interests that members of the same nation, citizens of the same city, nay, even brothers of the same household, do not agree what complete living is. Were we to agree what constitutes complete living for the nineteenth century we could scarcely expect agreement upon the materials best fitted to meet it. Nor would it of necessity be good, even could we do so; for the nineteenth century is manifestly far from perfection, and to wholly subordinate edu- cation to complete living of the nineteenth cen- tury type would be a gross wrong. But Mr. Spencer answers his own question. "The leading kinds of activity which constitute human life . . . may be naturally arranged into : i. Those activities which directly minister to self-preservation; to those activities which, by securing the necessaries of life, indirectly minis- ter to self-preservation. 3. Those activities which have for their end the rearing and disciplining of offspring. 4. Those activities which are in- volved in the maintenance of proper social and political relations. 5. Those miscellaneous activ- ities which make up the leisure part of life, de- voted to the gratification of the tastes and feel- ings." This he says "is something like the ra- tional order of subordination. . . . We do not mean to say that these divisions are definitely separable. We do not deny that they are intri- cately entangled with each other in such ways that there can be no training for any that is not in some measure a training for all." While thus 75 recognizing the interrelations, of the activities of life, Mr. Spencer unfortunately looks at them through physical spectacles. The physical basis of life is viewed of primary importance; he fails to see that it has its meaning only in subordina- tion to the moral. The activities, as he sees, do not lie side by side; but he does not see that the first two classes can be justified only as a means to realize the higher ones. So I would call his class not the rational, but the physical subordina- tion; and his complete living is so complete that it can include every thief, firebug, murderer and every other form of wicked life within its scope. For he has not defined complete living as morally good or righteous living. Forms of life are them- selves in need of a criticism. Education securing self-preservation "is in great part already provided for. . . . Nature takes it into her own hands." Outside of this Mr. Spencer leaves unanswered questions of great im- portance to the teacher. He does not tell us whether the time given to each class is to be pro- portioned to its position in the scheme, to the difficulty of acquiring the assigned knowledge or the amount assigned. A principle of selection is indicated when, in speaking of accomplishments, the fine arts and "all those things which consti- tute the efflorescence of civilization," he says, "As they occupy the leisure part of life, so should they occupy the leisure part of education." This again takes life at present for granted as self- sufficient and needing no further justification. And again can Mr. Spencer be quoted against 76 Mr. Spencer, for far from restricting the leisure part, he has the rosiest outlook for its growth. Listen. "We yield to none in the value we at- tach to aesthetic culture and its pleasures. With- out painting, sculpture, music, poetry and the emotions produced by natural beauty of every kind, life would lose half its charm. So far from thinking that the training and gratification of the tastes are unimportant, we believe the time will come when they will occupy a much larger share of human life than now." Ah, but Mr. Spencer, if that be so, education can play but little part in that glorious development for you have made its chief purposes servants to the sordid things of life. Why will it not become more servile? For you tell us the keen competition of modern life but few can bear without injury, that thousands break down under the strain and that the strain seems likely to increase (p. 239); and again (p. 283) "intenser competition taxes the energies and abilities of every adult," the young must be sub- jected to a more severe discipline than hereto- fore. Why then will not the future see more and more time and energies devoted to education subserving the first two classes of activities? Mr. Spencer's outlook is not so rosy, after all. Aes- thetic education and the warm life of feeling will be slowly frozen to death. But taking him at his most cheerful word, when shall it come to pass? "When the forces of Nature have been fully conquered to man's use- — when the means of production have been brought to perfection — when labor has been economized 77 to the highest degree — when education has been so systematized that a preparation for the more essential activities may be made with compara- tive rapidity — and when, consequently, there is a great increase of spare time; then will the poe- try, both of Art and Nature, rightly fill a large space in the minds of all." All Mr. Spencer's conditions can be admitted without his conclu- sion, "consequently, there is a great increase of spare time." On the contrary, we can conceive a state in which labor is economized and educa- tion systematized with yet the masses a servile lot toiling for the benefit of the few. No less a philosopher than John Stuart Mill, with whom Mr. Spencer once expressed himself most anx- ious to be in agreement, has said that inventions have not "lightened the toil of any human being," and also that "they have enabled a greater num- ber to live the same life of drudgery and impris- onment." With all the external, material im- provements there must go an improvement in moral life. Not only must the forces of Nature be conquered, but man's intense selfishness must be controlled and made to minister unto the bet- ter life. That universal nature in man linking him with the Divine will demand its rights and assert its primacy. Then and only then can God's kingdom come on earth. What knowledge best meets the needs of the five classes of activities? Mr. Spencer takes up each and the answer every time is — Science. "Not exhaustive cultivation in any one, su- premely important though it may be — not even 78 an exclusive attention to the two, three or four divisions of greatest importance; but an atten- tion to all — greatest where the value is greatest, less where the value is less, least where the value is least. For the average man . . . the desid- eratum is a training that approaches nearest to perfection in the things which most subserve complete living, and falls more and more below perfection in the things that have more and more remote bearings on complete living" (p. 22). I have already remarked the relativity of complete living and its subordination to morality — right living. Our attention must be directed not merely to how much value we get, but also to the kind of value. Thus for a young lady of to- day, only elementary knowledge of mathematics is needed, unless she choose some special posi- tion. Value of a better kind would be derived from good literature and the philosophy of his- tory. Although both these fall outside of Mr. Spencer's first two classes, their utility in broad- ening the mind and improving character far ex- ceeds that of mathematics. A man is not a mere calculating machine, searching for cause and ef- fect only in the material world ; but a person with rights and feelings most precious to him in his real, every-day life. Cause and effect in rights and feelings have proved in history more import- ant than the logic of mathematics. Great world movements have been inspired chiefly by the contact of living sympathies rather than by rea- soning, though reason played its part in the whole. Thus according to Lecky the decline of 79 superstition and persecution was not so much due to abstract arguments against them as to a slow change in the mental attitude of the people, a more or less unconscious influence of the Zeit- geist. Even the wisest but dimly perceive the meaning and importance of the great drama in which they play the leading parts. Mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, so- ciology, "the natural history of society," psychol- ogy, physiology and the theory and practice of education are the subjects in Mr. Spencer's cur- riculum. He shows how the principles enter into the various activities of life and underlie the arts. He mentions the carpenter, surveyor, engineer, architect and a host of others. Nearly all the facts may be admitted and yet Mr. Spencer's in- ferences may be denied as applied to the curricu- lum of a public school. It is impossible to teach in a public school all or even a few of the arts men- tioned by Mr. Spencer; were it possible, it could not be justified on the ground of utility, for but very few of the multitude of facts would probably ever be used to save life, to aid business or min- ister to social life. Suppose we taught bridge- building or the mechanics of engineering. How often would we use the facts learned to tell the strength of the bridges over which we traveled or the safety of the curves around which our train was whirling? Viewed from the side of the facts of the various arts, Mr. Spencer's argu- ment becomes merely a plea for special schools. Now let us view it from the side of principles. We are not to teach the arts in particular, but the 80 principles which underlie them. But we now get into trouble, for they must be taught inductively and hence we must go to the facts and practices of the art as a basis of the induction. Pupils would be taught from machines, stoves, and a multitude of scientific appliances. Now to teach all these things would take perhaps a bit more time than could be spared. But suppose they have been taught. Mr. Spencer's chief justifica- tion for them is their utility, their superior value over others. A fallacy vitiates the argument. Knowledge of principles does not insure, guaran- tee or necessarily issue in use or application of those principles. Scientific knowledge as well as every other, suffers from the contingencies of life and the weaknesses of human nature. Physio- logical principles are tolerably well known among educated people; we hear lots of talk about following the laws of nature; but we read a great deal more about cures for dyspepsia and dozens of patent medicines for scores of ailments. Newspaper advertisements thus furnish an a pos- teriori basis for inferring some prevailing social conditions. Mr. Spencer knows these facts, for he says, "Men's necessities often compel them to transgress." The cause is deeper rooted than lack of knowledge of hygienic laws. Every time a stone is thrown, every time a step is taken, the laws of motion are implied and applied, but it does not necessarily follow that they will be better applied by a person because he understands them. I cannot throw a ball any better or walk to better advantage now that I 81 know the laws of motion than when a boy when I didn't know them. A course in military en- gineering would scarcely enable a policeman to shoot more accurately at a fleeing criminal. In the most interesting field of life — our own per- sonality in its relations to others — science is well- nigh futile to give any law that will apply to every case or even to a great number. A large part of life seems doomed to rest upon empirical ex- perience rather than upon conscious knowledge of scientific laws. Scientific laws of some sort may be found in all experience, but they deter- mine very little for us. Determination rests chiefly with the human will and that can not be calculated beforehand. Mr. Spencer distinguishes three values in knowledge — intrinsic, quasi-intrinsic and con- ventional. "Such facts as that sensations of numbness and tingling commonly precede paral- ysis, that the resistance of water to a body mov- ing through it varies as the square of the velocity, that chlorine is a disinfectant — these and the truths of Science in general, are of intrinsic value : they will bear on human conduct ten thousand years hence as they do now" (p. 23). 1. Such facts as bear directly on the conduct of any par- ticular person can be learned by that person with- out taking a course in the cognate science under- lying the particular facts. Thus, the ordinary man could become acquainted with the most im- portant chemical facts bearing on his own af- fairs without taking a course in chemistry. The 82 multitude of facts I learned in a course in chem- istry have proved of very little practical value, of little utility, while the atomic theory, as a theory, has had much more active influence on my con- duct than any single fact in chemistry. In my own case the value as discipline far outweighed the value as "intrinsic" knowledge. 2. Mr. Spen- cer makes universality and persistence in time the criterion of the worth of knowledge. On this count he should advocate ithe higher mathe- matics as of supreme importance for practical life. Yet surely for the mass of men to-day they have very little effect directly upon conduct. Their value as discipline is greater than their value as knowledge. 3. Following Mr. Spen- cer's method, metaphysics should occupy a prom- inent place in his scheme. Metaphysics is conspicuous by its absence. Yet it underlies all the sciences, making them possible. Everything we say and do may be traced to its root in meta- physics. "Religion," says Schopenhauer, "is a metaphysic of the common people." The con- ception of ultimate purpose has had greater ef- fect on conduct than that of proximate utility. Indeed, proximate utility can be justified only on grounds of ultimate purpose and may be shown to have sprung from the metaphysical nature of man. 4. The fundamental requisite for the exist- ence of society is not scientific knowledge par excellence, but mutual regard for rights. Civil society as the "institute of rights" demands an ethical basis first or scientific knowledge simply will not develop, for that is possible only where 83 society exists. We must not forget the millions who exist with practically no developed scien- tific knowledge, but yet hold together as socie- ties and in many cases are happier than we, if judged by quantity. On Mr. Spencer's ethical philosophy they are nearer the ideal than we. When Mr. Spencer demands a reform of indi- vidualistic history and emphasizes the import- ance of social history — "descriptive sociology," "the natural history of society" — he comes peril- ously near those German thinkers whose philos- ophy he repudiates and makes a loophole through which enter the classical languages he had previously excluded. As his thought devel- ops, he gets away from a narrow conception of science, finally science becomes all-inclusive, identical with philosophy. What is untrue is un- scientific. In a scientific history Mr. Spencer would have "all facts which help us to under- stand how a nation has grown and organized itself"; also "an account of its government. . . . the structure, principles, methods, prejudices, corruption, etc., which it exhibited; . . . the ec- clesiastical government, . . . social observances, . . . popular life out of doors and in doors, . . . the relations of parents to children, the industrial system, . . . the intellectual condition, . . . aes- thetic culture, . . . and lastly, to connect the whole, should be exhibited the morals, theoret- ical and practical, of all classes" (pp. 59 to 61). 1. These would all be impossible without a knowledge of the language and literature of the people under consideration. 2. Language and 84 literature express phases in the development of a people as certainly as law, politics, religion, science or architecture. 3. Mr. Spencer's exclu- sion of language and literature is therefore purely arbitrary: 4. Latin and Greek are all the more necessary to "rational interpretation of social phenomena" such as ours because so much in our own has grown out of the life of the Greeks and Romans. 5. Morals, Mr. Spencer recognizes after all his praise of the physical, as necessary ''to connect the whole." 6. The atomistic indi- vidualism in the logical and psychological devel- opment of his theory of evolution thus brings about its own antithesis in his demand for social history. As Mr. Spencers general statement does not keep out the classical languages let us pass to his special reasons. "Supposing it true that clas- sical education conduces to elegance and correct- ness of style; it can not be said that elegance and correctness of style are comparable in impor- tance to a familiarity with the principles that should guide the rearing of children. Grant that the taste may be greatly improved by reading all the poetry written in extinct languages; yet it is not to be inferred that such improvement of taste is equivalent in value to an acquaintance with the laws of health" (p. 67). 1. Unless it be as- sumed that the knowledge of the principles of training and of the laws of health is to be used, I fail to see its superiority over the classical learn- ing. 2. On Mr. Spencer's own principles, the 85 classical learning if used must be immensely su- perior to the scientific which is not used. 3. Much disagreement exists concerning the prin- ciples which "should guide the rearing of chil- dren" and "the laws of health" are by no means as definite as might be imagined. Consequently, even if put into practice bad results could follow. 4. There is no necessary antagonism between classical learning and scientific; both exist to- gether, as many a student can testify. Mr. Spen- cer should not say much about the laws of health as a large part of school education, because "that all-important part which goes to secure direct self-preservation, is in great part already pro- vided for. Nature takes it into her own hands." When a few pages farther on, he tells of the many ways we may become ill or enfeebled, one is tempted to ask, "What has become of Nature with her safeguards?" Nature with a capital N is a poor provider, it seems. 5. Granting the im- portance of Mr. Spencer's claims, it does not fol- low that the subjects mentioned can best be taught by making them parts of the school curric- ulum. Home influence should be the most pow- erful in giving reality to the laws of health. It is the exceptional pupil that of his own free will puts in practice the hygienic rules learnt at school. 6. Mr. Spencer judges classical learning by its least important qualities. "While language familiarizes with non-rational relations, science familiarizes with rational rela- tions. While the one exercises memory only, the 86 other exercises both memory and understand- ing" (p. 83). But Mr. Spencer here uses "science" in its narrow sense. Thus used, he must either exclude ethics, sociology and educa- tion from the sciences or else include language within them under sociology. For on the narrow meaning, it has been seriously questioned whether there are such sciences as ethics, sociol- ogy and education ; while if they are sciences, as Mr. Spencer says they are (in the wider sense), then there is a science of language, and its rela- tions are just as rational as any other within so- ciology. For by rational relations Mr. Spencer means "causal relations," "necessary relations" and by non-rational relations he means "fortui- tous relations," "accidental relations." Now I submit that language as a part of sociology has causal, necessary, rational relations to the nature of the people whose language it is ; to their envi- ronment, to emigration, to neighboring peoples, to languages from which it grew, to art, law, pol- itics, religion and literature of the people and their historic epoch. I further submit that ac- cording to Mr. Spencer's large "Synthetic Philos- ophy" non-rational relations is a contradiction in terms; that only causal relations can exist in any and all departments of life; and that the differ- ence between the necessary relations of mathe- matics (with the sciences closest to it) and the so-called "accidental" relations of ethics, sociol- ogy and education is not and cannot be a differ- ence in rationality, but only a difference in the complexity of the relations and conditions under 87 which the cause operates. For the sciences last named deal with physical, chemical and mechan- ical relations the same as mathematics, only more complicated, that is, if we trust Mr. Spencer's metaphysics; and if we trust his conception of rational relations in his "Education," the sciences all suffer as they get away from mathematics ; the farther, the less rational they must become. Nor can Mr Spencer's sharp separation of memory and understanding be maintained. Facts remembered must (in his psychology) be co- ordinated according to some law, i. c, they must be understood; and conversely we remember what we understand. We cannot grant that language of necessity "exercises memory only." Mr. Spen- cer himst!f qualifies his charges by the words "as ordinarily carried on" and the languages "as commonly learned"; and he likewise qualifies his praises of science by the words "when properly taught they are understood" as causal relations. So if we take Mr. Spencer at his word, the sciences may be improperly taught and fail to exercise the understanding. A young man who remembered many facts of science did not re- member how to use the facts when the occasion required; if for nothing more worthy, he might have used them to "show off" his learning as well as if he had been a devoted student of the classics. So Mr. Spencer leaves the question open whether the languages if properly taught might not exercise both memory and understand- ing. His separation of the two seems to depend on a faculty-psychology which considers mental activities independent units, mechanically sep- arated like blocks of wood, or with an impassable chasm between. This view is contradicted not only by a true interpretation of evolution and by the best parts of Mr. Spencer's social philosophy, but also by the facts of common life. The struc- ture of our language; the overlapping activities classed by Mr. Spencer; the law of association and of correlation in psychology; the futile at- tempts to classify the sciences by sharply defining the scope and method of each; and the inter- changeability of general terms, like history of philosophy, philosophy of history, science of psy- chology, psychology of science — all these form a basis for an a posteriori argument for the organic unity of mind, a point on which Mr. Spencer's philosophy is notoriously weak. The opening sentences of his "First Princi- ples" read. "We too often forget that not only is there 'a soul of goodness in things evil,' but very generally a soul of truth in things erroneous. While many admit the abstract probability that a falsity has usually a nucleus of reality, few bear this abstract probability in mind, when passing judgment on the opinions of others." Mr. Spen- cer, I fear, has missed the soul of truth in the clas- sical learning. In his anxiety to do something great for his favorite sciences, he fails to inquire closely into the learning he opposes to them to find "what there was in it which commended it to men's minds." Language no less than science springs from a common root in the mind of man. Representing a great phase of his life it can claim 89 a place in the curriculum as well as science. Latin and Greek form epochs in the history of languages and Rome and Greece in the history of the world. No one that looks carefully can deny the great influence those so-called dead lan- guages and civilizations exert on our life to-day. Being dead they yet speak. Law, art, language, politics, literature, religion, philosophy, yea, even the sciences, find the ancient civilizations throw- ing light upon them. He that believes our life can be understood only in the light of its history thus has strong reasons for studying the classics of Greece and Rome, and without denying science a place, and an honorable place too, in the cur- riculum. Science as a phase in the history of our civilization can not be denied its rights. But it must also recognize its limits; for elated with its great successes in the nineteenth century it has become not only dogmatic, but hogmatic, having shown a disposition to claim everything in sight. Mr. Spencer has but half the truth in his re- marks on painting. "In painting, the necessity for scientific knowledge, empirical if not rational, is still more conspicuous. In what consists the grotesqueness of Chinese pictures, unless in their utter disregard of the law of appearances — in their absurd linear perspective, and their want of aerial perspective?" (p. 70). The primary purpose of painting is not to teach scientific laws, but to arouse feelings and in the highest sense to arouse feelings of a moral and religious character. Cer- tainly, to do this involves some degree of scien- tific knowledge, or following scientific laws; but 90 these are only the means, not the end, for when the end becomes such that neglect of scientific laws is necessary, the laws are straightway neglected. For example, in comic art success de- pends upon a degree of exaggeration, violating scientific laws. Doubtless, some aspects of truth may be found in such, but other aspects are ig- nored. Even in serious work certain aspects are neglected for the sake of the artist's purpose. From the purely physical scientific point of view, details in the foreground and background should receive as much attention as other things in the foreground and background. But the real artist does not paint every pore, every blemish or every detail he sees in his subjects. Yet a scrupulous regard for pure science would impel him to do so. The essential characteristic of a picture is the meaning. If that be well conveyed, from the artistic standpoint it is good art; but from the ethical standpoint the meaning must be moral, it must appeal to the better nature of the specta- tors. Chinese art, grotesque as it is, would be successful if it were meant to be grotesque. That some part of truth is there, I do not deny; nor do I deny that such truth is scientific in the wider sense. But I do say that in order to concentrate attention on the chief aspects of the truth he is representing, the painter must neglect minor aspects. Though he may be scientific in the best sense, he is unscientific in the lower sense in so far as he neglects those minor aspects; and I gladly admit that Mr. Spencer identifying truth and science can say that my argument only 9i proves his own case, but in the restricted sense of the term scientific, his own arguments are self- contradictory and carried to their logical conclu- sion would subordinate imagination and its pro- ducts to physical sciences. Santa Claus and fairies would cease to have a meaning in the training of childhood. Thomas Gradgrind would be supreme in education. "Not only, however, for intellectual discipline is science the best; but also for moral discipline" (p. 84). Mr. Spencer proves (?) his case by first assaulting the learning of the classics. The pu- pil's "constant attitude of mind is that of sub- mission to dogmatic teaching. And a necessary result is a tendency to accept without inquiry whatever is established." Now science may be taught in the same way and secondly in learning the classics there is no need of an attitude of submission or of its so-called necessary result, for the rule in the grammar can be reached in- ductively from instances of it no less than can a scientific law, or given the rule, it can be verified by appeal to the language no less than a scientific law. Moreover, Mr. Spencer's reasons at this point would count against English grammar, French grammar, and the others as well as against Greek and Latin. I do not see why the following sentence can not be applied to language as well as to science: "Its truths are not accepted upon au- thority alone; but all are at liberty to test them — nay, in many cases, the pupil is required to think out his own conclusions." Nor has science 92 historically proved to be always a bulwark of mo- rality; indeed, I have more than once heard it used to justify immorality and put a premium on human weaknesses. Mr. Spencer's hedonistic ethics with its emphasis of the pleasurable can scarcely be freed from the charge. In moral dis- cipline the essential requirement is respect for rights — self-respect and respect for others — "Be a person and respect others as persons" — "Let your act be such that you can will it to become a universal law." Science has no monopoly on that discipline. From the study of science, says Mr. Spencer, "there flows that independence which is a most valuable element in character." But character is not necessarily good and inde- pendence may characterize the criminal as well as the law-abiding citizen. The thief is independ- ent of the temptations of goodness, but is a slave to the temptations of wickedness. Good in- deed is the man that has attained a much better kind of independence — freedom from evil. No shame, but an honor is it to him to acknowledge his dependence on goodness; and if the libertine reproaches him with being a slave to goodness, how much worse a slave is that same libertine to the animal that lords it over his own soul ! Nor has science any exclusive claim to the exercise of "perseverance and sincerity." Both of these may be directed to bad ends. Does not Mr. Spen- cer tell us of the Turcoman who is so sincere in his stealing that every year he makes a pilgrim- age to the tomb of some noted robber? One needs only to study a little criminology to learn 93 how persevering are the inhabitants of Sing Sing, Cherry Hill and Moyamensing. Individualizing independence is one of the worst foes of a good home life and a high moral character. "The discipline of science is superior to that of our ordinary education, because of the religious culture that it gives" (p. 85). One may admit that science may be religious, but it is not neces- sarily so. On the contrary, it has at times been irreligious, as Mr. Spencer recognizes, but he calls that "the science that is current" and op- poses to it "true science that has passed beyond the superficial into the profound." This looks dangerously like metaphysics, which Mr. Spencer forgot to put in his curriculum. But at the time Mr. Spencer wrote (1861) there was good cause for thinking science irreligious; it was antagonis- tic not only "to the superstitions that pass under the name of religion/' but in being handmaid to an agnostic metaphysics, was attacking the very fundamental basis of religion, both theoret- ical and practical. Mr. Spencer's agnosticism leaves no room for "divinely-ordained methods," for "a beneficent order of things," for the writing of "the finger of God upon the strata of the Earth" — no room or speaking "teleologically," for making assertions about the Absolute and its relations to men and the world. But all these find a place in "Education." Under an agnostic theory, religious feelings would starve to death and religious theory be a cobweb of pretentious humbug. 94 "Devotion to science is a tacit worship — a tacit worship of worth in the things studied; and by implication in their Cause. It is not a mere lip- homage, but homage expressed in actions — not a professed respect, but a respect proved by the sacrifice of time, thought and labor." Then, too, science "generates a profound respect for, and an implicit faith in, those uniform laws which underlie all things" (p. 87). Here appears again the defect of studying things rather than persons. If a grocer jumps away from his counter to avoid having his toe crushed by a falling weight, is this not a "tacit worship" according to Mr. Spencer? It is "expressed in actions" and evidences a "pro- found respect for and implicit faith in those uni- form laws which underlie all things." The gro- cer is familiar enough with the phenomena of gravitation and of masses in motion (to say noth- ing of the nature of the toe) to let them influence his conduct, even though he may not know G = ^gp With Mr. Spencer's external stand- ard everyone is religious. Every one does much as the grocer; a thief may study various things, thereby testifying to their worth and by implica- tion thus worshiping their Cause. Likewise the cannibal who eats his captured enemy and sacri- fices time, thought and labor to prepare him for the cauldron. On Mr. Spencer's scientific theory, with cause and effect universal, every such fact is scientific, every one follows some nat- ural law. Death is a scientific fact; it is not un- natural for a person to be ill; it is impossible to act on other than some natural law. Consequently 95 as all of us so act, and such action expresses reli- gious homage, we are therefore all religious. For all we know, when we worship the Unknowable, we may be worshiping something utterly bad. Between facts about things and facts about per- sons and nations, Mr. Spencer seems rather to choose the former, while he swerves so much as to give us practically no ideal for which to work. For it is in ideal personality, *. e. God, that things get their purpose and a religion that sacrifices human personality to things and to a philosophic abstraction, i. e. the Unknowable, can never per- manently satisfy either the head or the heart. Having judged Mr. Spencer piecemeal, let us now look at him in the light of history, trying to discover the soul of truth in his work. I like to think of him as a mode of that Unknowable about which he knows so much. The particular mode of which he is a representative is nineteenth cen- tury naturalism, utilitarianism and industrialism with its ideal of individual competiton. His sweeping condemnation of the past and underval- uation of authority is strongly reminiscent of the philosophers of the French Revolution. His ag- nosticism develops from the same faulty ab- straction as Kant's Ding-an-Sich. The absolute and irreconcilable separation of subject and ob- ject in "First Principles" has a fitting parallel in "Education" in the antagonism of the useful and ornamental, and of the sciences and the classics. His empiricism in psychology is a continuation of the traditional English method of Hobbes, Locke and Hume, while his individualism in political 96 economy follows the orthodox political economy of Smith, Malthus and Ricardo. His naturalism and hedonism have their immediate roots in the French Revolution. The emphasis put on the pleasurable in his ethical philosophy is reflected in the methods recommended by him in "Educa- tion," particularly in Chapter II. "Mr. Spencer's 'Education' as a polemic," says Professor Francis Burke Brandt, "is a decided success, but it is neither a science nor philosophy of education." Much that Mr. Spencer argued for has been brought to pass and we can already see its results. As a reaction against the over- dose of classical learning in England at the time he wrote, his work had a beneficial effect, but he has swung too far to the other extreme and as can be proved from the history of education, his charges against the past have no such universal validity as might be imagined. The Copernican system of astronomy was originated by a monk who certainly knew a bit of mathematics, and Kepler discovered his laws on a metaphysical belief in a mathematical harmony underlying na- ture, while Kant, the great German philosopher, in some measure anticipated Laplace's nebular theory. Leibnitz, Descartes, Newton and Sir William Hamilton have made notable contribu- tions to mathematics. All these men were brought up under the classical system repudiated by Mr. Spencer. While it is possible they accomplished their work in spite of their classics, it would be a quite difficult point to prove and at any rate shows there is no necessary antagonism between 97 science and the classics. One need not delve deeply into the history of education to prove that as a rule astronomy and mathematics have from time immemorial occupied an honorable place in the curriculum. Many of the particular charges Mr. Spencer brings against parents and social observances are true, but they do not follow from his philo- sophic or educational theory. Parents doubtless are often ignorant and make many blunders in consequence, yet I know more than one parent who commits the blunders mentioned by Mr. Spencer because of trying to put Mr. Spencer's ethical hedonism into practice. The pleasure of the child becomes a chief aim; accordingly he gets an exaggerated idea of his own importance and the reaction against the exaggeration leads the parent also into exaggeration. Thus in the domain of human actions science can not guaran- tee results. It works on the hypothetical syllo- gism, "If such and such and so and so be the case then perhaps this, that or the other will follow." Now at the dawn of the twentieth century let each one ask, Has science made me more truth- ful, more honest, more sincere, more dutiful as husband, wife, father, mother or friend? Has it made me more respectful of the rights of others and kept me a better citizen? In consequence of science, am I a better man or woman than I was yesterday, last week, last month, last year? In consequence of science, is the city, state or na- tion more moral than at any period of history? Are there fewer frauds and liars pro rata in the 98 business world than ever before? Is science to be praised for the works of art that delight and instruct us? Shall we thank science for giving us a new Mint? Shall we blame the classics for the ugly, smoky piles of brick factories amid which it has been placed? And finally, has science made us a more religious people? The great question, What knowledge is of most worth? is but a part of the greater one, What is the worth of life? At one blow could the pessimist shatter the whole structure reared by Mr. Spencer. We can fancy him saying, "Mr. Spencer, your whole system presupposes life is worth living and aims to continue the ills and ir- rationality inherent in life itself. As intelligence increases, we become more susceptible to pain and misery. Relief can be permanent only when comes the will to live no more. Unless your sys- tem makes people realize the utter futility of life and show them utter oblivion as the cure for all their woes, it receives my unqualified condem- nation. You have not proved but dogmatically have taken for granted the foundation upon which your system rests." Now I'll venture a bit of a prophecy. Love, science and competition have been overdone in this nineteenth century and the reaction against them is already on. In that reaction, love, science and competition will have their limits and purposes more clearly defined. Like most reactions, it will swing a bit too far, perhaps tak- ing up and over-developing socialism or some other element that has not yet appeared clearly 8 L.ofC. 99 enough to have its importance recognized. Against that over-development will come an op- posite reaction whose specific nature I do not presume to foresee. As has already been said, science as an import- ant phase in which man's mind manifests itself deserves a place in the curriculum; but being only one and not all phases, it can not justly de- mand the whole program. No object of the ex- ternal world can permanently satisfy man's long- ings, for no such object embraces within it truth, beauty and moral goodness. Science in the re- stricted meaning, applying only to external things, to the soulless world, finds itself unable to meet the needs of soulful creatures. Science in the larger sense comes near to man, however, and when truth, beauty and moral goodness meet in human personality, the ideal comes nearest realization on this earthly sphere. Science in the larger sense dealing with human personality passes then beyond the finite, for it becomes necessary to deal with the infinite in man that links him with the Divine. With science culmi- nating in the science of religion, every need of man therein finds satisfaction. ioo THE SCHOOL AND THE CRIMINAL. The evolution of wickedness is a fascinating- study. The thief keeps pace with the detective. Progress (development, civilization) does not constitute its own justification. What crimes are committed in its name! Its vices are carried among the uncivilized and its virtues often left at home by the inhabitants of the barracks and forecastle, who are its chief representatives. Crime flourishes in the great centres of learning and refinement. Yet the means of education have wondrously grown. Not only the public school, but the press, the pulpit, societies, free lecturships and free libraries have helped to spread knowledge. But in spite of the deluge, the volcanoes of crime refuse to be put out. Is the school to blame? Pouring knowledge into a black sheep does not whiten the knowledge or the sheep. His pur- poses run counter; increased knowledge becomes a more powerful tool to realize those purposes. His fall from grace is greater, because he "sins against the light." Knowledge of money-mak- ing need not mean a full pocket-book; neither need knowledge of righteousness issue in right conduct. How many pupils practice the hygienic laws they learn in school? How many teach- ers? Thus a fundamental fallacy vitiates the ar- guments of those blaming the school for failing to make bad folks good by knowledge. Moral IOI goodness may exist without extensive knowl- edge. Doubtless discipline in study and order in school train character. But what kind of char- acter? If the evil-will already exist, they may make it more determined and methodical. Char- acter manifests itself in different ways under changing conditions. School life is scarcely rich enough to give thorough guidance to character, making it able to triumph over a great world bris- tling with temptations. A good reputation gained at school is no guarantee of an upright character after school is over. Discipline at school may have its purpose defeated by lax so- cial conditions. Reaction against restraint may therefore be intensified by very contrast. Who has not seen pupils let out of school cut up antics perhaps best paralleled by the ecstatic delight of mules freed from the noisome darkness of a coal mine? School does not create the will it aims to shape. It can receive neither merit for the good nor blame for the bad inherent in racial, social and individual heredity, save as it has already indirectly influenced them. Limited on the side both of knowledge and of discipline, neverthe- less the school can be held responsible for its wrong theories and methods putting a premium on human frailties; for too much readiness to adapt itself to new conditions without criticism or investigation of their moral import; and for failure to protect the deserving from the result- ing evils. Sweeping charges against the school lose much of their force, because the school is but one 102 of the ''institutions that educate." Is our society worth preserving? Grant it and the home be- comes its strongest bulwark; its purity, sanctity and integrity become of the first importance. Church, State and School may supplement the work of a good home, but they cannot replace it. But the castle has been assailed from "turret to foundation-stone" and the school has been indi- rectly crippled. "The greatest thing in the world is to have a good time" is a popular dogma. It needs prov- ing, as the good time often turns out to be any- thing but good. Innumerable clubs with innu- merable attractions demand our attention. Or- ganization run mad becomes a besetting sin. Home life suffers. Animalistic ethics corrupt its purity, agnostic and materialistic philosophy desecrate its sanctity, commercial utilitarianism shatters its integrity. "Every man is free to do that which he wills, provided he infringes not the equal freedom of any other man." This is Mr. Spencer's law of equal freedom; equal license would be a more fitting name. One may will lots of evil, pleasing and otherwise, without prevent- ing another from doing the same. But Mr. Spen- cer has a large following in these days. Uncle Sam is disgraced by lax divorce laws. A newspaper recently mentioned profanity as our most pop- ular sin. An I-don't-care-I-do-as-I-please spirit springs from individualism. Socialism long since has denied the right of property in land and the instruments of production (tools). Social dis- content is widespread. Disrespect for authority 103 is engendered partly by its abuse, partly by lack of legitimate enforcement, partly by reaction against its restraints. Caricatures, not always elevating, are freely published in the newspapers and they are not by any means the worst stuff finding a place in the press. Cheap literature of the most degrading kind can be bought openly, even by children. Art has not always been the handmaiden of virtue. Greed for gold does much to sway the destinies of nations. Commercialism makes heavy demands upon home life. Father pays his taxes and supposedly escapes the obli- gation to teach and encourage his children. Work done, he would like the rest of the time to himself. He has been free in giving his rights into the keeping of rogues, and long-suffering under misrule. The best children at school make virtually no effort to protect their right to an education from the aggressions of the more un- ruly. How's that for Yankee pluck? But the older folks are not such shining examples, after all, and the value of an education not so self- evident to them as we may imagine. Knowledge may show us ways to avoid the legitimate conse- quences of our wrong-doing and a variety of in- terests increase the scope of crime and the am- bition of the criminal. Home life, industrial life, jural life and religious life are historically prior to school life as we know it. Those explaining crime by blaming it on the school have put the cart before the horse. Cutting the school away from its roots in real life, attempting to judge it by itself, they are 104 morally color-blind, historically cross-eyed and victims of their own abstractions. The organic growth of the school from the past simply cannot be ignored without danger. The facts prove it. Is all this fight against spectres of our own imagination? Others are in the same boat, and if nothing more is gained, perhaps we may read Poe's tales with less terror and face ithe problems of life with more determined courage. Is the school to blame for crime? Not much. 105 SCHOOL SUPPLIES. Enormous sums of money are wasted by the destruction of supplies put in the hands of the pupils. Books that would last five or six years be- come fit for the retired list in five or six months. Pencils are cut to pieces, rulers get broken, pens are stolen, good paper thrown away, and so the waste goes merrily on. Who is responsible? The teacher? Then make her pay for it. The pupils and the parents? Then they must take the con- sequences. The purpose of the book is known, the aim of the school is known, the place and functions of pupil and parent are known. Viola- tions of these should be minimized. A boy gets a new history in September; the following June, the back is hanging off, several pages are torn, some smeared, sticky and perhaps disfigured by sundry pictures and remarks. Shall it be replaced by his parents or shall the boy be excused and the book thrown away? "Replace it," say you? Now see them shirk responsibility. "The baby tore the back, somebody else the pages, his little cousin smeared it, and Willie Green, a friend, drew the pictures." Green, too, would be the au- thorities if any such excuses were accepted. Es- sentially the book has its function, purpose and reason for being as a text-book on history. It is not a plaything, nor a tablet, not even a towel, neither a sketch-book nor note-book. A history so used is misused, a contradiction in terms, on 106 the road to perdition. How much liberty shall a pupil take with a book? None at all beyond that necessary to realize the purpose for which the book is created. In demanding such responsibil- ity from parents, the school is protecting not only itself, but also the tax-payers who stand the ex- pense. Short-sighted folk looking only to their immediate gain fail to see the enormous loss re- sulting from encouragement given thereto by ac- cepting all sorts of excuses to shirk responsibil- ity. A higher not a lower standard is needed. Why not uproot the whole paternal system? Why not go back to the "good old days" when the parent had to supply the books needed by his children? Easier said than done, for reasons too many to mention. To combine the advantages of our present method of giving supplies with the responsibility of the old, and with plans to avoid the disadvantages of both, seems the most prom- ising solution of the difficulty. I leave this to further investigation. Supplies, such as books, pencils, rulers and penholders, last longer if the teacher puts the name of the pupil thereon. It tends to fix indi- vidual responsibility and to identify lost property. It were foolish to require a teacher to examine books, etc., every day; time would not permit it, even were there no other objection. Mere lapse of time never gives a pupil the privilege to misuse a book or other supplies, even if his father does pay taxes, which is evidence of responsibility, not abolition of it. 107 DARWINISM AND THE TEACHER. Natural selection is unmoral. The struggle for life bristles with injustices. The survival of the fittest is not a moral law. Conditions are ele- gantly understood, uncritically taken for granted. The late J. J. Ingalls was fond of quoting, "The race is to the swift and the battle to the strong." But neither race nor battle is "on the square." In the game of life some players have loaded dice. Plants and animals exterminate those less favor- ably fixed. The fittest survive. That same code has been applied to the real life of men and given an ethical value undeserved. The result has been disastrously dehumanizing. Sweat-shops, foul factories and dens of iniquity receive a justifica- tion, The fittest survive. Fittest for what? For the conditions. What conditions? Natural condi- tions. Darwin's law has no business to say more. Specify its meaning and it begs the whole ques- tion — a truism, a tautology. Why? Because the fact of survival is made the test of fitness. Nat- ural selection does not create the materials and fundamental conditions necessary for its own working. Thoughtless folk would have it cover the whole gamut of being, forgetting that it is natural selection and as such has no better stand- ing until it prove itself moral selection. It de- serves not our approval. What has this to do with the teacher? 1 08 Let us dream a bit. Fancy a teacher in his class. How orderly! How interesting the les- son! What a successful teacher! Nevertheless he is a wicked man. — 'The dream changes. An- other teacher appears. Disorder reigns, lessons can not be taught, well-prepared and doubtless interesting though they be. Nevertheless that teacher's character is unimpeachable. But what an unsuccessful teacher! "Cast him into outer darkness!" — The fittest has survived. Do you hear a still small voice saying, "Ought it to be so?" Wake up! iog HARMONY vs. LINE OF LEAST RESIST- ANCE. To produce harmony of the faculties or equal development of the mental powers. — Take eight years of arithmetic for reasoning, five years of history and six years of geography for the mem- ory, eight years of drawing and music for the imagination, four years of physiology for the judgment, language and reading will do for al- most anything, add a few et ceteras for possible omissions. Take pupils for granted. Flavor with interest and serve. Such a recipe may legitimately follow from a kind of psychology much in favor since John Locke made famous the tabula rasa. Mental powers are viewed in an external or mechanical way. The harmony spoken of may fittingly be like so much hash or mince-meat; or be produced as if faculties were like so many blocks of wood to be geometrically designed or so many chords to be struck on a piano. Criticism has always shown such analogies inadequate jto characterize mind. Mind is unique, in a class by itself, and nothing taken from the non-mental world can ever truly represent that unique unity that diver- sifies itself in a multiciplicity of powers. Mind is the only adequate type of mind. A mechanical harmony is therefore impossible from the nature of the case. What then can be meant by har- mony of the faculties? no 1. Let it mean internal, subjective harmony — no conflict existing among the powers. Then perhaps the finest example of harmony is the glutted pig. In the human realm a crazy man al- ways fancying himself Napoleon or Shakespeare or Caesar, or anyone living in a world of his own creations, may be said to have an internal har- mony of the faculties. Even as I write, a child playing happily near by seems to be possessed of a harmony that his elders have outgrown. Why, too, cannot a thief possess an internal harmony of faculties? So it seems there may be different kinds of harmony subjectively considered and the abstract claim in education for imparting such knowledge as will give equal development of the faculties has given no criterion for prefer- ring one sort of harmony rather than another. 2. Let it mean harmony of the^subjective with the objective, so that the powers or faculties adjust themselves to existing external conditions. This view is extreme realism and is objection- able as a form of externalism. Perhaps the best examples of it are fellows of the sordid, practical type, ready for everything that turns up, "smiling as the wind sits," ever on the lookout for himself, regardless of ethical principles. Having brought external conditions into the discussion, the pre- ceding sentence prompts an interesting question : Are external conditions all ethical, and if not, should we purchase harmony at the cost of mo- rality? 3. A third kind of harmony may be illustrated by those' believing in a low kind of don't-worry in philosophy. They combine the subjective satis- faction of the first with the sordid selfishness of the second. Good, bad or indifferent conditions do not upset their harmony. They get through life rather than live through it. Right or wrong gives them no occasion for worry; nor does death, sickness or injury of a friend or relative. Such people have not been the ones that have im- proved the world, and when such a person does wrong, I heartily wish his conscience to worry him into a better frame of mind. Vain wish if he has stifled the still small voice within! Harmony of the faculties does not constitute its own justification. Harmony is a fine, pretty word; but actual harmony may be bad, "a league with death and covenant with hell." The three kinds of harmony named contain no principle of selection. Not one of them is concerned with the ethical purpose which should be made the only possible ground for the existence of a faculty. Things as they are, powers as they now exist are taken for granted. No subordination to duty is noticeable. Faculties are abstracted, cut off from real facts, as if, regardless of functions and social ideals, they had some intrinsic value. Harmony may even be a fiction like the economic man; but it is viewed as somehow a good in itself. But surely it is not self-evident; for the existence of complete harmony — the cessation of all strife in the mind — may be but the sign of moral death and intellectual stagnation, a sign that the animal has conquered the man; while strife may be the sign of advancement, of a courageous determina- tion to master the animal and enthrone the man. Reason and imagination need not be on good terms in any individual. Perception and mem- ory get into disputes, and sensation is often any- thing but friendly with intuition. Is harmony possible and what kind of harmony will it be? The three kinds of harmony tabulated above all err in ignoring ethical purpose and in making no provision for growth toward the better; as a fact we have seen them make progress backward and downward. No new impulse can enter the sacred harmony, for that is forbidden by the individual- izing psychology upon which it rests. Now the objector may say, "There is nothing in the con- ceptions of harmony excluding the ethical factor and certain faculties may get more work to do or become more important without ruining the harmony just as we may put more apple or rai- sins in the mince-meat or more potatoes in the hash without spoiling them." In reply: i. While there is nothing in the conceptions of harmony excluding the ethical factor, there is nothing in- cluding it. It ought to be there as absolutely es- sential and no place has been made for it in the claim for harmony. 2. The conceptions are a bit too much like hash and mince-meat. Such psy- chology, true to its ideas, allows no real growth, but only aggregation, addition in kind to what is already there. 3. The mechanical separation of the faculties gives no test for telling that one is 113 any more important than any other or for esti- mating the worth of the work done by any of them. Further to clear the way let us ask, What kind of a world would it be, composed of folk with harmonious faculties? A trifle mixed, some- what confused, as we already know. One man's harmony need not agree with another's except in name. Each one of us in our life has sometime experienced both strife and peace within. But other things equal, as a companion give me the man with some strife within his soul rather than the fellow completely satisfied with himself. Not only then may one's purposes get twisted, but the harmonies of different persons may and do get fighting with each other, as, for example, the practical man and the dreamer. Yet in spite of these quarrels, there must be a great deal of har- mony at bottom or society would simply commit suicide. History shows us great periods of peace as well as of war and philosophy reveals the fun- damental basis upon which both peace and war are possible in a social organism. When that fundamental basis is attacked society itself be- comes impossible and dissolves into an individ- ualistic anarchy with the appetites and passions of the lower man enthroned as authority. Such was the Reign of Terror in France. The attack on basic authority put a worse one in its stead until basic authority, gathering power, regained the mastery. Authority of some sort is a basic, inescapable fact. But we speak of it at times as being misused. People rebel against it. In 114 their reaction they often war against the good as well as the bad in the authority. But it all has a meaning — the State as "the institute of rights" is morally responsible for its acts. It cannot overturn its own ethical and religious founda- tion. Still further to clear the way let us look into the expression "equal development of the faculties." First of all there can be no mathematical equal- ity, and I can see no virtue in equality per se. Even supposing equality to be good, how can it be maintained? Will not changes upset the equality? Nor can we determine a priori any^ absolute, material equality. A man that can cook a dinner, sail a vessel, run an engine, man- age an army and write a treatise on metaphysics may be said to possess an equal development of the faculties. But even here equality does not justify itself, for his skill in cooking might be used to disguise a poison, his vessel might be used for piracy, his engine to escape with booty, the army might be fighting for pay in a bad cause, and his metaphysics used to uphold sin. Now in what sense can "equal" be applied to the faculties? How are the various faculties of the "all-round" man equal? Surely only in a figura- tive sense, meaning that they are well adapted for their purposes, fitted to realize the ends for which they aim; and secondly, the "all-round" man with his so-called equality must be "square," t. e., moral. Analysis has thus far brought us to the con- ception of purpose as inseparably connected with 115 the faculties. A faculty apart from its purpose is an abstraction; apart from its moral purpose it has no justification. This, true of one faculty, is true of all and true of any harmony predicated of them. Now we are ready for a constructive ef- fort. The only harmony worthy of the name is a harmony of the lower faculties with the higher. The higher faculties direct, control and limit the tendencies of the lower. The lower are therefore conceived as subordinate, as getting their mean- ing and function only in relation to the higher which explain and reconcile them. Moral free- dom and moral purpose thus determine the scope of the appetites, of the faculties of perception, reasoning and imagination. The difference be- tween the freedom prescribed by morality and that of the appetites is the difference between "eating to live" and "living to eat." In another way this difference is emphasized in Milton's apostrophe to wedded love. In nothing short of heaven, however, can the ideal harmony be real- ized in its complete theoretical and practical ra- tionality. For man as finite finds exercise for his powers only within a limited and imperfect en- vironment, while his higher aims are infinite and incapable of finding satisfaction therein. Con- sequently even if, subjectively considered, he at- tains a harmony guided by moral purpose, yet on the practical side, i. e., as an active will express- ing itself in conduct, it must contain an element 116 of strife because of an unmoral or immoral en- vironment under whose conditions that will must act if it acts at all. The conception of an ideal social state on earth comes nearest to giving scope for "a har- monious development of all the faculties." Gen- eral tendencies toward that state already exist. I. Most important is the checking and obliterat- ing of personal evil-will by positive punishments ; and guiding and enlightening the good-will by positive encouragements. 2. Chances for evil, i. c, wicked temptations, are to be reduced to a minimum by good people co- operating, taking precautions to prevent the evil will from realizing its purposes. Thus, when we delegate our rights into the keeping of some one else, let us take some precautions to prevent their abuse ; and if he to whom we del- egate them has high moral character he will not only recognize the justice of our precautions, but also will voluntarily offer to take precautions both to strengthen his own good will and to sat- isfy us of the goodness of his intentions. A case suggests itself: A, B and C have certain dealings. A and B have mutual rights and duties, but their relation to C is largely accidental, i. e., one that can be broken without harm. B speaks to C of a transaction in which A's rights are neces- sarily involved. C suggests completing the transaction and B consents. Trouble resulted from B and C ignoring A's rights in the case. B had a bad motive in the transaction, C supposed the contrary. Both A and C were deceived by 117 B. B ought to have protected A's rights, but would not, and C did not think it necessary. C, however, had encouraged B and smoothed the way to the transaction. Now had C taken pre- caution to protect himself from the possible bad motive, and, as it turned out, also actual bad mo- tive of B, or had he been thoughtful enough of A to have protected him from B's betrayal, all the trouble could have been avoided by a few words or a simple reference of the matter to A. The mutual confidence established by such a plan would have well repaid the effort. Besides that, B's bad motive would have been discouraged and C would not have become an accessory to the betrayal. In large stores precautions are taken, as, for example, by a checking system, to reduce the chances of theft to a minimum. Fire-proof dwellings decrease the scope of arson. 3. As far as possible, natural conditions must be moralized and made servants to man. Control of wind power and water power are examples of this; in the economic sphere the tendency to substitute more equitable exchanges for the natural system of driving a good bargain, i. e., "skinning the other fellow." Even in such an ideal state as that sketched by Edward Bellamy, quarrels and personal spites could exist. While we can grant Mr. Bellamy true in much that he claims about our economic system being the cause and condition of discord, nevertheless we are still in the realm of the hu- man will. Far from being the only cause of the evil will, economic conditions are themselves a 118 lesult of the greater human will. Consequently the removal of evil economic conditions will not of necessity obliterate the other modes in which the evil will is wont to express itself. Allowing then for the possible existence of the evil will in our ideal earthly state (perhaps through atavism), there will yet be death and accidents and mis- takes in judgment. To suppose the opposite would make man omniscient. We need not speculate which will come first — the omniscience of man on earth or the extinction of life thereon. Now for a summary of results : 1. A fundamental moral order is at the basis of society. 2. While it is a presupposition of social exist- ence under which faculties of the mind exist, yet it is also the goal toward which the faculties should be directed in their efforts to harmonize. A complete, conscious realization of the moral order is the ideal that guides their harmony. 3. Heaven alone completely fulfils the ideal, while a perfect social state comes nearest a possi- ble realization on earth. An objector may say, "You have not deter- mined the particular content of your moral har- mony. You do not tell what acts are moral. Then, too, each age has put a somewhat different content into the moral form. Besides, when you have obliterated evil, the race will die of inan- ition, for the lack of something to do." Fully to answer these objections would require a moral philosophy but brief reply is here given: 1. It is something to have established a moral order as 119 the only basis on which society is possible. Our critic admits that much. 2. If the critic means what he says, and I assume him sincere, that constitutes some content for the moral ideal. Telling the truth and honesty are already there. As a fact, in the greater part of our doings the moral content is already known. It is in the ex- ceptional cases that one can not tell what his duty is, perhaps owing to their great complexity or singularity. The objection is parallel to one made to zoology. To be consistent, one would refuse to call a lobster an animal because some forms of life occupied the borderland between the animal and vegetable. Possessing some characteristics of both made it doubtful whether the forms were really animals or vegetables. For the same reason, I might argue that I cannot calf my critic a living being because the living shades off so gradually into the non-living that one can- not tell where the living ends and non-living be- gins. Having argued my critic out of living, I might conveniently bury him. But let us look more closely at his argument. 3. "Not only does the moral shade off into the immoral so grad- ually that they can't be distinguished, but each age gives a somewhat different content to the moral form." But no age completely demolishes either the moral form or the best part of its con- tent whatever it adds to or subtracts from it. It were folly to attempt what so many wise men have failed to do — to foresee the particular ways in which future ages shall manifest their spirit. 120 Theft, murder, lying and treason have been rather steadily condemned among civilized races. While my critic might point to tribes in which each of those crimes is practiced, and upheld by the sentiment of the people, he then has to prove, (a) that the crimes named were committed by members of the tribe against one another, (b) that the tribe still held together and why it did so, (c) that their practices and opinions are at least as good as ours. Until these be proved, his il- lustration has no bearing on the case. 4. My critic does not act on his own theory. If he can not distinguish the good from the evil, then he has no business to tell us what will happen to the race when evil is obliterated. Whatever truth there is in his objection is based on an abstract view of good and evil. Goodness is so simple in this view that living would become monotonous were there no evil to contrast with it. It is a false view. There is a great deal of variety in goodness even now, apart from positive evil. Just so in our ideal social state with no positive evil, there would be a multitude of ways for doing good, and increasing the good already in exist- ence, enough variety, in fact, to give spice to the most exacting. Good and evil as names would doubtless exist as a logical contrast neces- sary to give them meaning, just as something and nothing, existence and non-existence, sense and nonsense. But as a real contrast necessary to life and appreciation, there need be no more ma- terial content to evil than there is to the term nothing. For if the contrast of contraries 121 is necessary to life and appreciation, a person continually living in a temperature of 90 would never feel hot, because he never felt cold. No one could feel pleased, unless he had before been pained. The best way to enjoy a beautiful gem of music would be to stop at a boiler shop on the way to the opera, and to appreciate a bath one would do well to roll about in the gutter before- hand. To turn it about, the thief to appreciate his theft should be honest for a while, the tramp to appreciate his dirt should get washed now and then, and so on. Instead of this contrast of con- traries being necessary, there could be, as before shown, contrast enough in either term of the pair. If not, no final reconciliation between good and evil is possible. No one can tell how much perception, judg- ment, memory, imagination, reasoning, etc., it takes to produce harmony of the faculties, whether now or in the ideal social state. They can not be measured by the quart, gallon, by the yard or year. Only a faulty psychology backed up by figures of speech could ever suppose the powers of the mind subject to quantitative deter- mination (by the "how much") or magically brought into an equilibrium like a see-saw. A faculty, it was stated, could be defined only in re- lation to its purpose. Even then no one can tell how much purpose is necessary to produce har- mony. In the discussion of subjective harmony, many purposes of various importance were found to be consistent with harmony. Subjective in- completeness needing a criterion was referred to 122 a moral order to which it must conform in order to be justified. The ideal social state furnishes us with a clue to a new factor in the harmony. Let us apply it to the school. A school professing to turn out pupils with a complete harmony does an injury. If any pupil possess it he is either in the class of dreamers ignoring the real world or of the sordid practical fellows, all worldly. For a school that does its duty well will introduce strife into the harmony. No matter how complete his subjective harmony may be, the pupil nevertheless has a quarrel with the imperfections of the world and the school should not forget it. The infinite side of his na- ture demands it. If the ideal social state be an aim, even though we can but approximately real- ize it, then the incorporation of an element of dis- cord into the harmony is absolutely necessary; for that element of discord means advancement. True, it is but the means to the final end, yet so long as our finite imperfection lasts, so long should the strife last. So long shall we have something worth fighting for, something worth living for. To give up the fight now will be spir- itual stagnation. To state it in a paradox, the best kind of harmony and subjective satisfaction is that which contains discord and dissatisfaction with the wickedness of self and the world. To apply results: I. No matter what we teach or how much we teach, the harmony of the facul- ties defined merely in relation to abstract pur- pose can not be determined beforehand and 123 stands in no necessary relation to so much arith- metic, so much geography, etc., just because they may consist with many kinds of harmony. 2. As there may exist many purposes in the world without conflicting there is no need of absolute uniformity in the minds of any two pupils; that is to say, subjectively considered, the great dif- ferences between pupils may all conform to the teacher's purpose; perception or reasoning may become more important than imagination or imagination may become more valuable than rea- soning without breaking up the internal harmony of the faculties or thwarting the teacher's pur- pose. Some degree of specialization is thus pro- vided for and development is given its function. Only in one respect can the teacher demand ab- solute uniformity — whatever be the faculties of the pupil they must conform to the moral order typified by the school. Whatever be the sub- jective harmony of any pupil, it must be subor- dinated to moral purpose as long as he remains a pupil. No pupil can be given a right to do wrong. 3. The school is to give the pupil ideals, or as otherwise stated, to introduce strife into the harmony. Then extremes are avoided — unfitness for the real world and complete slavery to it. Bread and butter philosophy has lately been dic- tating a bit too much. 4. Training of the lower faculties is scarcely to be considered an end in itself; only as it ministers to the higher end can it be justified, for the lower faculties receive their 124 meaning and explanation only in the higher. 5. We found harmony to be justified only as con- formity to moral purpose; equal or harmonious development to mean well fitted to realize that purpose; we found material equality an erro- neous conception to apply to the faculties, and purposes in their relations to the life of any indi- vidual to be indeterminate; consequently the school can not guarantee its results. After doing its whole duty, it can not tell what use the pupils will make of their harmony in after-life. They may become immoral; they may, on the other hand, guide it along moral lines unforeseen by the school. With all the advantages given by his education, John may become a rogue; Frank may become a great arithmetician, devoting his life to the study, without spoiling his harmony and conforming to moral purpose, even though he use but little his faculty of perception through touch and use a great deal his faculty of abstract reasoning. But the school can guarantee none of these results. It can say, "Both John and Frank did well in school. No violation of moral purpose was tolerated. We did our whole duty by them and they did theirs. Other things equal, we send them out into the world with the prob- ability that they will do their duty in the world also." "It is no longer possible to guide school work by the needs of the child as an individual," is the complaint voiced by a Philadelphia newspaper. Similar to this we have more than once heard, "The child should be educated along his line of 125 least resistance." The harmony theory assumed that there is a number of faculties needing to be brought out of confusion into "harmonious de- velopment." According to the least resistance theory, such harmony is not desirable. Natural aptitudes for particular activities should be strengthened, not sacrificed to harmony. Thus are the two theories contradictory. Both spring from a mechanical, individualizing psychology; the one thinks harmony a good in itself, the other thinks specialization a good in itself; the one would feed every faculty alike for each is assumed equally important, the other would select one faculty or a few as being most important accord- ing to the individual and give all attention along the special line. The contradiction between the two theories disappears when we go from the mechanical to the organic standpoint. A man may be a special- ist and yet have what is frequently called a well- balanced mind. Nearly every reader knows some such persons. Perhaps many a reader has some specialty which has not interfered with the har- mony of his faculties. But specialization no less than harmony must be subordinate to moral law. In itself the line of least resistance carries no eth- ical justification. A person's line of least resist- ance might point downward, consisting of an aptitude not desirable, e. g. } a tendency to lie or steal and so be subversive to morality. The same truth may be seen from another side. Abstractly considered, one man's line of least resistance is as good as another's. This indifference leaves no 126 room for ethical principles. Just so it assumes an innate goodness in qualities naturally belong- ing to a person. This naturalism (what is natural is good) has been sufficiently dealt with else- where. So no justification can be given for an aptitude that is bad and none for developing an aptitude natural or otherwise, if better ones have to be sacrificed. Had education always been di- rected toward developing a pupil along his line of least resistance as it existed, what kind of a world would this be now? An unproved assumption is beneath the line of least resistance theory, namely, the line of least resistance is so distrib- uted among the people of the world, that were each one developed along that line a good result would be produced and possible overdevelop- ment would be counterbalanced when the whole race was taken into account. This looks danger- ously like a pre-established harmony, though one would scarcely expect the ghost of Leibnitz to be lurking about the arguments of an empirical psy- chology. The least resistance theory would more likely sacrifice social welfare to personal caprices and give a death-blow to the public school. Would it not lead to private tutoring? Each particular child in order to be developed along his line of least resistance should have a particular tutor whose line of least resistance would be his ability to teach that particular child. We are still in the realm of the human will and no mathematical de- termination of the line of least resistance would be possible. Even if determined some other way 127 no guarantee could be given that it would remain the line of least resistance through life. Carried to its extreme it would fit a man only to fit in a special place. The testimony of the history of ed- ucation negatives subordination to the line of least resistance as found existing. That testimony establishes the primacy of the human will and if it means anything, man has recognized a moral obligation in education, the obligation to make the natural line of least resistance become a moral line of least resistance. A school may develop a pupil along his line of least resistance not because it is the line, but be- cause it conforms to the purpose of the school. To illustrate: A pupil with a talent for drawing is encouraged by the praises bestowed on his work; adequate scope is afforded by the period alloted to drawing in the program. But cer- tainly it is not the duty of a public school teacher as such, to provide special work for that pupil or to make the program conform to him. In so far as that talented pupil needs special work is a mat- ter for special schools, for his parents and for himself after he has performed his duty as a pub- lic school pupil. During school hours he can not be permitted to draw when he should be reading or studying geography or history. Try to apply the line of least resistance theory to public school work; apply it to every pupil; apply it to every teacher — how much public school would be left? If the talented pupil's aptitude is caricature, no allowance can be made for it unless it is provided for in the school program. Imagine, however, 128 a school that recognized the right of such a pupil to caricature his classmates. You doubtless see how it conflicts with the fundamental principles upon which school work is based. If carpentry or blacksmithing is not taught in a public school, pupils whose line of least resistance is along those lines can expect to have no provision made for them. How absurd, too, would it be to encour- age a pupil whose line of least resistance con- sisted in inventing excuses for lateness, truancy and bad conduct. In response to the demand for utility and spe- cialization certain special schools have sprung up. These have their functions and are not necessarily bad. They may, however, conflict with the pur- poses of the other schools, as is the case in Phil- adelphia. I have in mind two schools which upon certain afternoons each week draw upon the regular schools for pupils. Such pupils lose the regular school work for what they aim to gain by the special school work. I am concerned but little with the particular acts and results therein involved, but rather with the principles implied and acted on. The schools are part of the public school system. In one the pupils are taught drawing, clay-modeling and wood-carv- ing; in the other, elementary manual training is the purpose. As stated, chosen pupils lose the afternoon ses- sion of the regular school; they are not counted absent, however, if they attend the special school. Now what is implied in this differentiation? Is the principle on which it is based a good one? 129 Out of a grammar school of 400 pupils let us say about 25 pupils are absent one afternoon a week to go to the special school. Unless the special school give the pupil more value for his afternoon than is given by the regular school, they are en- tirely without justification. But if the pupil does get more in one afternoon at the special school than he gets in one afternoon at the regular school, why should he not get more in five after- noons at the special school than in five at the regular school? The special school is an implicit criticism of the regular school; it implies that the regular school is not meeting the needs of the pupils whom it sends to the special school. By definition special schools would have a different purpose from the regular school. Chosen pupils are given a right to absent themselves from the regular school in order to attend a special school whose purpose it is to meet the needs which the regular school does not. What are those needs? Who are the pupils? What further follows from the principle which opposes the purpose of the special school to the purpose of the public school? 1. Suppose any pupil of the regular school may go to the special school. Say three are selected at random out of a class of forty pupils or say the first three that apply for the privilege. Now if thus it be a matter of indifference to the author- ities, why would not the entire class get more value at the special school than at the regular school? If right one afternoon a week, why not all? Should one say there are not special schools 130 enough, the answer is easy — if they be right, they ought to be established in sufficient numbers. Under our first supposition, as the special school meets the needs of all the pupils, then the regular school does not, as it is defined as not meeting the needs which the special school satisfies. The moral purpose of the regular school thus fails to justify itself in comparison with that of the spe- cial school. This first view gives no principle of selection among pupils. If one has the right, so have all. The special school suits any. To claim that honor, the special school must aim to give a broad culture appropriate to a great phase of thought and activity represented by the subjects it teaches. But when it reaches that stage, it has brought about its own contradiction, for it ceases to be special and takes on a function appropriate to the regular school. Will the logic of history bring about a union of the two, by the special school being indissolubly linked with the regular school by a unity of purpose? Will we come to see that its scope can not be sharply limited and its purpose viewed as indifferent or even opposed to that of the regular school, as we have come to see the interdependence of universal and partic- ular, and the futility of sundering the sciences from metaphysics? If so, then branches taught in the special school will come to be viewed as part of a greater whole. The special school will get its philosophic setting apart from which it can not be understood. Pupils taught therein and taught properly will thus be required to know not merely the special branches, but also the general knowledge co-ordinating them with a theory of life. The artist of to-day clearly to understand his function and the condition of art of his own time must really study art in history, why certain types appeared during certain epochs, the causes and conditions making them possible and leading to their downfall. But to know these is to study the ethics, political econ- omy and religion of bygone ages, in short, a philosophy of history. 2. Suppose the special school gets only pupils bright in the branches taught therein. These pu- pils, it assumes, should be developed along their line of least resistance. That course, it thinks, will be better for the pupil and the world; other- wise it would be indefensible. But it can not be proved beforehand whether the pupil and the world are really better. It is quite possible to conceive a pupil whose line of least resistance, while not immoral, may yet be such as to lead to a mere subjective harmony and produce lunacy; and in the world there might be too many spe- cialists. But if we have a special school for those bright in drawing, clay-modeling, wood-carving, carpentry or blacksmithing, why should we not have a special school for the pupil with a special taste for history, language, music or mathemat- ics? If the line of least resistance be good, why not let everyone enjoy it? The legitimate conse- quence is the extension of the special school, be- cause in allowing it to take the pupil from the regular school one afternoon a week, we have 132 given special needs of pupils the right to be rec- ognized as the guide of school practice. This second view closely corresponds to the utilitarian view of Mr. Spencer. Special schools teach practical arts, useful in business, giving knowledge supposedly favorable to money-get- ting and aiding to procure the necessaries of life. On this ground, special schools can be justified only if the majority of pupils in after-life do really use the knowledge to make a living. Only the statistician could give us data for deciding this part of the question. In the absence of data we refrain from expressing an opinion. The fundamental assumption on which this view rests is — what is useful is good. Should that principle be made the guide of school prac- tice? In the narrow sense of the word, utility can not be made the guide of school practice, has already been pointed out, bad uses of things and of knowledge are possible. Even within moral lines there are so many useful things to be attended to that mere utility gives us no ground for preferring one rather than another. Thus were we referred to a criterion of purposes and found that on the whole the regular school system embodied the correct principles — culture and dis- cipline as the chief guides. Mere utility was sub- ordinate. In the highest sense of the word, util- ity becomes identical with culture and discipline, but then it is not the guide because it is utility, but because it conforms to the higher guides with which it has become identical. If mere utility should be supreme, what a transformation it 133 would work in the curriculum! Pupils would be taught subjects wholly conformable to some art or trade or department of the commercial world. This would necessitate special schools altogether. Ordinary folk by using their eyes a little can see for themselves how numerous are dry goods stores, grocery stores and saloons. Why not have a special school for each of the correspond- ing occupations? How probably useful it would be! Why not at the beginning educate Johnny for a coal dealer, Frank for an engineer, William for a broker, and so on? Such a plan sounds the death knell of the regular school because the regular school is opposed to mere utility. 3. Suppose the special school gets only those pupils deficient in the branches taught therein. Harmony is here assumed to be desirable, some- what after the fashion of the deacon's master- piece: "Fur," said the Deacon, "it's mighty plain Thut the weakes' place must stan' the strain; 'N' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, Is only jest T' make that place as strong as the rest." Faulty psychology is at the bottom of this view. Thus, deficiency in drawing would indi- cate an ill-balanced mind. If Johnny be weak in arithmetic, it would mean a corresponding weak- ness in the mental power which arithmetic is sup- posed to train. Hence the inference — develop a pupil's weak powers. But this assumes a certain balance of powers as normal. Thus stated, this view is open to objections made against abstract 134 harmony and mechanical psychology. A pupil may be a poor arithmetician without being defi- cient in reasoning power other than the kind which arithmetic is supposed to train. The same argument works as well for any special kind of subject and any special kind of corresponding mental power. For there is no such absolute re- lation between the two as mechanical psychology presupposes. If a special school is established for pupils de- ficient in drawing, clay-modeling, wood-carving and carpentry, why not a special school for pupils deficient in arithmetic, music, history or geogra- phy? Where will this specializing process end? Why not carry it even within the special schools already established? Why have a regular school at all? Can a regular school be justified if the special weaknesses of the pupil be the guide of his course of study ? No ; for a regular school as such is guided not by the child's needs as an indi- vidual, but by his needs as a pupil, as a member of a class, a part of an organism — school, city and nation. Whatever be his special weaknesses, they cannot become the guide of our general school practices; only his weaknesses as a pupil can do that. Consequently the school can say, "Whatever be your special needs, we can de- mand that your weaknesses measure up at least to our standard. Our standard is graded on gen- eral deficiencies of human nature, on the needs of the child as a pupil. Your special scrength may carry you above the standard, your special weak- nesses may keep you below it. But the regular 135 school is obliged neither to create opportunities to make your strength greater nor to lower its standard to the level of your weaknesses." Now this third view in approximating the con- ception of harmony and antagonizing the line of least resistance, approximates the conception of culture and antagonizes that of mere utility. Thus the special school might justify itself because of the culture it gives in overcoming weaknesses. But so does the regular school overcome weak- nesses. On this ground we get back to our old question, Which culture is worth more, that of the special school or of the regular school? An identity of purpose is recognized, namely, cul- ture. But what kind? When the special school gives the same kind of culture as the regular school, when it gives a greater value than the reg- ular school, the special school will cease to be spe- cial. As long as it remains special, its purpose must be subordinate or supplementary to that of the regular school and it should not be permitted to take time which has been set upon as properly belonging to the regular school. When the spe- cial school does take the pupil from the regular school at a time when he ought to be at the reg- ular school, there is violated the rights and du- ties which, we have elsewhere claimed, answer the question, What is it really to be a pupil? The state establishes special schools; parents allow their children to attend; the children are willing; the special school authorities are anxious to get them; and the regular school authorities sanction it. A determined opposition on the part 136 of any of these would cure the ills resulting from splitting up the time. Certainly the State could abolish the special school; but this is scarcely de- sirable. We decidedly do not agree with those extreme individualists who would reduce the functions of the State to zero, for then the State would have charge of no educational institutions at all. Grant the State the right to establish gen- eral schools and it looks as if we have given it the right to establish special schools also. We are not at present interested in the question whether this is not a step toward socialism. We do insist, however, upon having as clear a definition as possible of the respective limits and functions of the special and general school. As the special schools mentioned are situated at some distance from the regular school, some parents might object to sending their children to the special school on account of the extra time, labor, expense and exposure; but I have never heard of a special school suffering much in those ways. Parents can scarcely be expected to solve the problems of the school. When they have solved the problems of the home, they will have done much indirectly to solve the problems of the school. Nor can we expect much help from the pupils. Some few of them may refuse to go to the special school. Usually there are always enough willing to go. There may also be much question whether the pupil should be given the right to decide for himself concerning his attend- ance at the special school. Is the pupil fit to pass judgment upon his own needs and abilities? Even 137 if so, does not his judgment have to be submitted to the approval of the school authorities? As the authorities of the special school can scarcely be expected to limit their purposes, only the authorities of the general school are left. Upon them is the chief responsibility. Whether the bright pupils or dull ones are selected, final decision should rest with the authorities. If pu- pils must be taken from the regular school during school hours, let it be conditional — if any pupil fails to keep up with the work of the regular school, he will be forthwith deprived of the priv- ilege of attending the special school. Authorities may, of course, be pardoned if now and then they make an unintentional mistake, such as sending a pupil undeserving the privilege. Care is needed in selecting pupils and extra work is put upon the teachers. Such pupils must be kept track of, not only to find out whether they abuse their priv- ileges, but also to see whether they keep up with their classmates and make up what they really do lose when away. Once in a while they may disturb the class in the regular school, as on a one-session day, when they leave the room an hour earlier than the rest so that they may get to the special school on time. Their absence if the class is small is not as encouraging as their presence would be to the other pupils. In any case, a distinction is created within the class and at present a distinction whose meaning is not altogether good. In the end, all things considered, the best cul- ture and the highest utility are identical. In that 138 highest sense, utility comprehends past, present and future; in a word, it becomes inseparable from final purpose. Mere utility appearing his- torically as a foe to teleology, in the end will be- come its steadfast friend. Throughout this book I have ventured to urge a return to first principles. In common with other departments of literature, works on education are almost innumerable, and in the enormous mass of methods recommended for this, that or the other reason, first principles are apt to be buried out of sight. Nor can we forget the vague character of education as a science by reason of its recency and the complicated data with which it deals. In the words of Professor Knight, "Cer- tainly we at present stand upon a small (occa- sionally sunlit) promontory, stretching out from the land of primal mystery whence we came, into the ocean of a still vaster ignorance, over which we must set out; and to many minds there is an equal fascination in the girdle of darkness, and in the zone of light." i39 CONTENTS. Chapter I. Historical Developments. Influence of the French Revolution — Both good and bad — The fundamental assumption — Disproof of it — Evolution of man — Unique meaning of childhood to- day. Chapter II. Evolution and School Method. Schopenhauer and Leibnitz on the goodness of the world — Subordination of natural to moral necessary — Danger in any other plan — What kind of freedom? — Evolution needs a new interpretation — What is the child? — What is the adult? — The teacher is a better being than the child according to evolution. Chapter III. The Child vs. The Teacher. Some reminiscences — The teacher responsible for everything accordingly — Child worship in school — Some misfit children — Loss caused thereby — Prof. 140 Schoenrich on American children — Relativity of re- spect — Nature of authority — Duty of pupil — Pesta- lozzi — Plan indicating remedies needed. Chapter IV. The Futility of Reasoning. weaken authority — Appealing to honor, duty un- satisfactory — Love, kindness and interest are not cure-alls — Preparation of lessons — How the teacher may be at the mercy of the pupil. Chapter V. Punishments. Nature of crime and punishment according to Hegel — Laxity in respect for law — Fear as a motive to good conduct — Whipping — Its adaptation to certain pupils — Its historic function overlooked — Cost of abolishing varied means of punishment — Church, State and School founded on authority — Teaching lessons the chief active work of the teacher — Acts of dis- order should be settled in school and at once — Suspension — Its disadvantages — A relic of greater au- thority — Detention after school — An act of authority — Its disadvantages — What causes a quiet class ? Chapter VI. How? No theoretical or practical justification to naturalism — Co-operation by all hands — Efficient and varied 141 punishments — Unity of educational system demanded — Advantages of these recommendations. Chapter VII. Teachers. Mr. White's explanation of the failure of teachers — Criticism thereof — Meaning of attending school — Child-study. Chapter VIII. Various School Offenses. The test — Talking in school— Paper on the floor- Throwing — One way of obviating difficulties — Have a watcher in the room — Too much for one person — Subordination of individual to the class is the ideal — Summary of principles — Should the teacher inter- fere with personal affairs of pupils — Two plans con- trasted — Some advice — How long? Chapter IX. Conclusion. Man, the world and God — Return to first principles — Evidences of the return — The last word of natur- alism. Herbert Spencer' s • « Education. ' ' What knowledge is of most worth ? — Does decoration precede dress ? — Does the ornamental come before the useful ? — Mr. Spencer* s claims false — Disproved by 142 history of education and rest on shallow philosophy — Scientific knowledge not enough to meet all our needs — Mr. Spencer' s ethics used against his condem nation of the classics — His criticisms not characteristic of classical knowledge alone, but apply as well to scientific — Practical purposes can not be made the aim of the school — What is complete living ? — Five classes of activities constituting complete living — Too complete as forms of life are themselves in need of criticism — Mr. Spencer' s rosy outlook not so rosy after all — Less selfishness as well as economic improvement needed — Science the cure-all — What kind of value we get in science — Subjects in Mr. Spencer's curriculum — Fallacy that knowledge of a fact issues in use of the fact — Scientific laws and principles formal, determination resting with human will — Mere utility of a fact does not necessarily imply a need to know its cognate science — Intrinsic value of knowledge criticised — Metaphysics should be put in the curriculum — Society on an ethical not a scientific basis (in the narrow sense) — Mr. Spencer's claim for descriptive sociology opens the door to the languages he excluded — " Science" used in two senses, broad and narrow — Separation between memory and understanding can not be maintained — Misses the "soul of truth'' in his opponents' claims — Science and language have a common root — Painting — Moral value of the sciences — Science has no monopoly on moral discipline — Ditto religious discipline — Mr. Spencer a representative of 19th century individualism and typical of the empirical method of English phi- losophy — Fruits of Mr. Spencer's " Education " — His charges against the past too sweeping — Charges against parents — Mr. Spencer's question part of a 143 greater one — A pessimistic criticism — A prophecy — Summary. The School and the Criminal. The flood of knowledge has not put out the volcanoes of crime — Knowledge of righteousness need not issue in right conduct — School does not create the will it aims to shape — Where the school is to blame — School crippled by lax social conditions and attacks upon home, property and authority — A false view of the school — School but little to blame for crime. School Supplies. Waste entailed — Who shall replace misused books — A higher standard needed. Darwinism and the Teacher. Natural selection unmoral — Its false application to life in general — To the teacher in particular — Result. Harmony vs. Line of Least Resistance. A recipe — A false analogy — Three kinds of harmony illustrated — Harmony not its own justification — Error in the three kinds — Ethical purpose left out — A sup- posed criticism answered — Equal development of the faculties — Its meaning — A summary of results — Re- construction — Lower faculties subordinated to higher in a unity aiming to realize a moral purpose — The ideal social state — Edward Bellamy's mistake — Sum- mary — Criticism of objections — Pure subjective har- mony incomplete points to a moral order as an objec- tive correlate, while the ideal social state demands the 144 embodiment of strife into the harmony as a factor making for improvement — Results applied to the school — Specialization along the line of least resistance — Springs from false psychology — Specialization must be subor- dinated to moral law — Its philosophic assumption — What specialization means when applied to pupils — Certain special schools — The principles upon which they work — Criticism thereof — Responsibility for special schools — In the end culture and utility are identical — Return to first principles — Vague character of the science of education. 145 SOME APPROPRIATE QUOTATIONS. Special acknowledgment is here made of the personal permission given by Prof. Robert Ellis Thompson to use material selected from his "Elements of Political Economy" and 'The Di- vine Order of Human Society." Written per- mission has been given by Professors Royce, Ely and Watson to use selections from the works of which they are respectively the authors. Charles Scribner's Sons, Scott, Foresman and Company. D. Appleton and Company and the American Book Company have given permission to use selections from books published by them and mentioned herein. Authors quoted herein are not to be viewed as responsible for my opinions, though I must gratefully acknowledge the help I gained from their works. Our science considers man as existing in society; we find him, indeed, nowhere else. The old lawyers and political philosophers talked of a state of nature, a condition of savage isolation, out of which men emerged by the social contract through which society was first constituted. But no one else has any news from that country. — Prof. R. E. Thompson's "Political Economy," p. 13. See also pages 17 to 20 and 223. (Porter & Coates.) The history of human economy is the story of man's transition from the savage's subjection to 146 nature, to the citizen's mastery of her forces. — Ibid., p. 29. Natural rights of individuals have no existence in any real sense except in society itself, and wherever the well-being of society demands it, they must give way. — Ibid., p. 224. There is in man a higher or spiritual nature which education is to awaken into life and call forth into activity and vigor; while there is also in man a lower or animal nature by which he must not be governed and which must be brought under restraint and discipline. — Ibid., p. 368. Less can be said for the quality than for the quantity of the education given by the public schools. Indeed we cannot too heartily recog- nize the fact that education is yet in an experi- mental stage among us, and that beyond the clear duty of teaching a few of the first and plain- est elements of learning, everything else is open to question . . . Education has been talked of as if there were something magical in the contact of a young mind with a series of school books and of teachers. But the magical results have not been forthcoming. — Ibid., p. 373. It is universally acknowledged that our pres- ent curriculum, if not already badly congested, is likely soon to become so. Subject after sub- ject has been added, not from any demonstrated pedagogical need, but in obedience to popular demands or to the professional zeal of specialists. —Prof. DeGarmo's "Herbart and the Herbart- ians," pp. 117-118. (Charles Scribner's Sons.) 147 Now, if there is any such thing as a good old way in nature or in society, the man has never yet appeared who discovered it. There is none. — Prof. R. T. Ely's "Introduction to Political Economy," p. 35. (Hunt & Eaton, 1889.) Prof. Ely has informed me that a new edition of this work is soon to appear. The contradiction between things as they are and our social ideal is painful. — Ibid., p. 65. Economic freedom must be regarded as merely relative. It has been absolute only in that condition of anarchy in which savages have lived previous to organized government. — Ibid., p. 71. Freedom is negative. . . . Absence of re- straint in itself can hardly be called a good in itself. It may be a curse or a blessing. . . . Children are not fit for it, because under the con- trolling influence of a higher authority their de- velopment can be better secured. — Ibid., p. 74. Philosophers of the latter part of the eigh- teenth century assumed the natural equality of all men, and held that oppressive inequalities were the result of legal institutions. It has be- come evident, however, that their assumptions were not valid. — Ibid., p. yj. When we come to speak of the disadvantages of the modern system of freedom, that is to say, of competition, it occurs to us that the moral atmosphere of a race-course is not a wholesome one. — Ibid., p. 83. Elsewhere Prof. Ely states that our return in political economy is in some important ways a 148 return to the ideas of Aristotle. In his "Politics" Aristotle says, "Man is naturally a political ani- mal. . . . For man, as in his condition of com- plete development, i. e., in the State, he is the noblest of all animals, so apart from law and justice he is the vilest of all." — Pages 5 and 7 of Welldon's translation. (Macmillan & Co.) Prof. Adamson summarizes Fichte's opinion of his own time : The age appeared to him, in its lack of devotion to general interests, in its cold individualism, mechanical statecraft and selfish morality, the condition of completed sinfulness. — "Fichte," p. 80. (Wm. Blackwood & Sons.) 1. Coming from the hand of the Author of all things, everything is good; in the hands of man, everything degenerates. — Rousseau's "Emile." (D. C. Heath & Co.) 2. Let us follow nature, who has given shame to man for his scourge, and let the heaviest part of the punishment be the infamy attending it. — Montesquieu's "The Spirit of Laws." 3. The source of man's unhappiness is his ignorance of nature. — "The System of Nature" by Mirabaud (Baron d'Holbach). 4. The remedies for these evils must be sought in nature herself. — Ibid. 5. Man never deceives himself but when he neglects to return back to nature to consult her laws, to call experience to his aid. — Ibid. These five quotations show the extent to which nature worship was carried toward the end of the eighteenth century. Our own Thomas Jefferson was greatly influenced by their ideas. 149 He thought government a necessary evil and therefore the best government was that which governed least. Shelley's "Queen Mab" embodies these thoughts in poetical form, containing un- stinted praise for "unerring nature" and un- merciful denunciations of kings, priests and law- yers. Great as Herbert Spencer undoubtedly is, yet how thoroughly he seems under the notion that what is natural, is good, especially in his "Education," chapter III, though that fiction was certainly old enough to die long before Mr. Spencer wrote. The notion was popular among the Stoics for we find Marcus Aurelius writing, "Nothing is evil that is according to nature," though with the Stoic, nature gets a deeper meaning than Mr. Spencer gives it, for it is not merely a world of order, but one governed by reason. — R. L. For a masterly criticism of the notion of a social contract see Prof. John Watson's "He- donistic Theories," especially the chapter on Hobbes. What are these natural laws of the socio-econ- omic organism? Let some one enumerate them. —Prof. R. T. Ely's "Introduction to Political Economy," p. 124. (Hunt & Eaton.) The multitude of machines of human invention owe all their value to the laws of nature, but those laws alone would never have produced one of them. — Prof. Borden P. Bowne's "Meta- physics," p. 269. (American Book Co.) For a detailed discussion of the metaphysical notions 150 underlying the conception of nature, see same work, chapter IV. See also J. S. Mill's "Three Essays on Religion." Besides that which really is, reflection must have reference to that which ought to be. . . . That much which actually happens ought not to happen, has been the common belief of mankind in all ages. Nor does that skilful apologizing for the laws of physical and psychical existence, which the scientific spirit affects, succeed in driv- ing this belief from the human mind. On the contrary, so confident do men in general con- tinue, of their ability to distinguish the sphere of actuality from the sphere of the ideal, that they without hesitation pronounce judgment against Nature herself. — Prof. G. T. Ladd's "Introduc- tion to Philosophy," p. 288. (Chas. Scribner's Sons.) See same writer's "Philosophy of Mind" for a strong argument against "psychology with- out a soul." Also Prof. Bowne's "Metaphysics," P. 348. The fiction of the political writers of the last century concerning an original social compact whereby society was first constituted is utterly groundless. — Prof. Bowne's "Principles of Ethics," p. 251. (Am. Book Co.) Subordination to the common good is not a necessary evil; in its idea it is not an evil at all, but an incarnation of beneficent righteousness. — Ibid., p. 252. Ethics can recognize no arbitrary, irrational and immoral freedom on the part of any one. It 151 is ethically absurd to set up a claim to a right to do wrong. — Ibid., p. 256. When we follow the doctrine of evolution to its economical, ethical and political conclusions, we find it teaching freedom of contract and free- dom of trade in economics, but denying freedom of the will in ethics; condemning the individual to inactivity in self-improvement but urging him to activity in self-indulgence; demonstrating that man's will is the slave of the greater inclination, but anathematizing the attempts of government to control this inclination. So that its teaching may be summed up in this: In industry or the struggle for wealth, absolute freedom ; in govern- ment or social regulations, the most freedom possible; but in ethics or the struggle for self- improvement, no freedom whatever. There is a suspicious inconsistency about this teaching, which is conspicuous in the fruit it bears; for its chief apostle, starting from this theory of evolu- tion, has demonstrated the wickedness of free hospitals, free libraries and free schools. — Prof. Edmond Kelly's "Justus-" Speaking of children's home training given by the mother, Herbert Spencer says, "Deeds which she thinks it desirable to encourage, she gets performed by threats and bribes, or by exciting a desire for applause: considering little what the inward motive may be, so long as the outward conduct conforms : and thus cultivating hypocrisy and fear and selfishness, in place of good feeling. While insisting on truthfulness she constantly sets an example of untruth, by threatening 152 penalties which she does not inflict." — Chapter I, "Education." The decline of authority, whether papal, philo- sophic, kingly or tutorial, is essentially one phe- nomenon. — Ibid., chap. II. The suppression of every error is commonly followed by a temporary ascendancy of the con- trary one. . . . As, further it usually happens, that after one of these reactions the next advance is achieved by co-ordinating the antagonist errors. — Ibid., chap. II. The education of the child must accord both in mode and arrangement with the education of mankind as considered historically. — Ibid., chap. II. There is much reason to doubt whether Mr. Spencer adequately interprets the meaning of the foregoing sentence. — R. L. Do not expect from a child any great amount of moral goodness. During early years every civilized man passes through that phase of char- acter exhibited by the barbarous race from which he is descended. — Ibid., chap. III. Hence the tendencies to cruelty, to thieving, to lying, so general among children. . . . The popular idea that children are 'innocent' ... is totally false in so far as it refers to evil impulses. —Ibid., chap. III. No punishment, then, can be justified unless it be essentially just. If society defends itself the defence must be just. The root idea of punish- ment, then, is retribution; and any attempt to escape it only the more certainly brings us back 153 to it. — Prof. Bowne's "Principles of Ethics," p. 274. (Am. Book Co.) We are not concerned to save the lives of assassins if thereby the lives of honest men are directly or indirectly imperilled. — Ibid., p. 276. Social interests and those of the law-abiding citizen are first. . . . We must be on our guard against the snivelling of the sentimentalist and the scruples of the closet moralist. — Ibid., pp. 277-278. Besides the knowledge we have of Tightness and wrongness as qualities of actions, we have the knowledge of duty, obligation or oughtness, as a condition of personal activity. The general conception of obligation is subjection of person- ality to moral law. The measure of this obliga- tion is therefore found in the full application of the whole law to the whole life. — Prof. Henry Calderwood's "Handbook of Moral Philosophy," p. 88. (Macmillan & Co.) The situation that has not its Duty, its Ideal was never yet occupied by man. — Carlyle's "Sartor Resartus." American and English ideas of education are now unquestionably adjusted to a theory of mind that regards our mental constitution from aggre- gative rather than from organic standpoints. The mind, according to this theory, is an aggregation of faculties; it is the sum of what we call sense- perception, memory, imagination, reason, feeling, choice, volition and the like. — Prof. DeGarmo's "Herbart and the Herbartians," p. 23. (Chas. Scribner's Sons.) i54 Psychology is too frequently only an inventory of certain so-called "faculties of the mind," such as the five senses, imagination, conception, rea- soning, etc. — Preface to Dr. Wm. T. Harris's "Psychologic Foundations of Education." (D. Appleton and Co.) Psychology recommended for teachers has been mostly of an individualistic character, the principle of participation in spiritual life being ignored. Hence all allusion to the psychology of society, of nations, of institutions, and especially of art and religion, has been omitted. — Ibid., preface. He that spareth the rod hateth his own son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes. — Proverbs, xiii, 24. Chasten thy son while yet there is hope and let not thy soul spare for his crying. — Ibid., xix, 18. Even a child is known by his doings whether his work be pure, and whether it be right. — Ibid., xx, 11. Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him. — Ibid., xxii, 15. Withhold not correction from the child ; for u thou beatest him with the rod he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod and shalt deliver his soul from hell. — Ibid., xxiii, 13, 14. The rod and reproof give wisdom. — Ibid., xxix, 15. On corporal punishments, see Rosenkranz's "Philosophy of Education," pp. 40-42. i55 According to the school laws of Pennsylvania, "The teacher should govern his school by ap- peals to the reason and better feelings of his pupils if possible. But a teacher in the common schools stands in place of a parent to a pupil, and may administer correction to him under the same restrictions as in the case of a parent. "The right of a teacher to inflict such punish- ment is founded upon the necessity of the case and not upon statute. It is absolutely necessary that good order should be maintained in the schools, and that all proper rules, regulations and commands of the teacher should be strictly and promptly obeyed. Hence a necessity exists for sufficient power to enforce this duty, and therefor it is held that the teacher may inflict such rea- sonable corporal punishment upon the pupil as the parent might inflict for a similar cause." — Page 137, "School Laws and Decisions," issue of 1899. All instruction starts from the inequality be- tween those who possess knowledge and ability and those who have not yet obtained them. — Rosenkranz's "Philosophy of Education," p. 186. (D. Appleton & Co.) A mental feeling connecting itself with pure" idea of duty is the essence of Conscience; though in that complex phenomenon as it actually exists, the simple fact is in general all encrusted over with collateral associations, derived from sym- pathy, from love and still more from fear. — J. S. Mill's "Utilitarianism." 156 It is the duty of parents to preserve their child ; it is also their duty to spare and favor its free- dom; hence in so far as the latter might hurt the former, it is their duty to subordinate the child's freedom to their highest end in the child. — Fichte's "Science of Ethics," p. 350. Trans- lated by A. E. Kroeger. (D. Appleton and Co.) It is the duty of the parents to restrict the free- dom of the children, in so far as its use might be injurious to their education. — Ibid., p. 352. If no other means can be found to subject children to the end of education than compulsion, the parents have the right of compulsion. — Ibid., P- 352. It is a very false maxim, which, like various other evils, we owe to a prevailing eudacmonism that we should make our children do our behests through rational argument and according to their own insight. Besides other reasons of its wrong- ness, it involves, moreover the absurdity of as- suming that the child has a good deal more rea- son than we have ourselves; since even grown persons act mostly from inclinations and not from rational grounds. — Ibid., p. 354. All men who know themselves are conscious that this tendency (to degenerate), deep-rooted and active, exists within their nature. Theologi- cally, it is described as a gravitation, a bias toward evil. The Bible view is that man is con- ceived in sin and shapen in iniquity. And ex- perience tells him that he will shape himself into further sin and ever deepening iniquity without the smallest effort, without the least intending it, i57 and in the most natural way in the world if he simply let his life run. — Sir Henry Drummond's "Natural Law in the Spiritual World," p. 91. (Altemus.) There is a natural principle in man lowering him, deadening him, pulling him down by inches to the mere animal plane, blinding reason, sear- ing conscience, paralyzing will. — Ibid., p. 96. Proved by results, it is surely already decided that on merely natural lines moral perfection is unattainable. — Ibid., p. 361. The lesson of evolution, at first thought to be the apotheosis of anarchic, individualistic com- petition, is now recognized to be quite the con- trary. — Webb's "Socialism in England," p. 82. (Swan, Sonnenschein.) Speaking of the age of which "John Wesley, Adam JSmith and Jean Jacques Rousseau were the prophets," Prof. Robert Ellis Thompson says, "It has left us a harvest of priceless results. But it always was an exaggeration, — a presenta- tion of half a truth as though it were the whole truth. Like all exaggerations it has produced an equal reaction, and we are now in the rebound of that movement." — Page 8, "The Divine Order of Human Society." There is certainly much in modern fatherhood which must fail to interpret God to the child, but fail in the opposite direction. We live in an age and a land of indulgence. ... In such a time over-indulgence, first of self and then of those for whom we are responsible, becomes a besetting sin. Children are allowed to have their own way, 158 without much reference to what kind of a way it is. Their every wish is indulged, even when good taste, or the comfort of others, or the child's own welfare must be sacrificed. It is so much easier to give in than refuse; and so we take credit for kindness to them, where in truth we are kind only to ourselves. The effect of this is seen in the manners before it is visible in the morals of the young. European observers are kind enough to say that the American traveler generally is a tolerable sort of a person, but that his children are the most intolerable torments to be found in the European resorts. — Ibid., pp. 73> 74- Nor is it only the family that suffers through the abandonment of parental authority. Social discipline is corrupted at its very fountain-head. That reverence for authority which is funda- mental to all society can be taught only at home. — Ibid., p. j6. There are things a father can teach his child as no other human being can teach them, because he is invested naturally with an authority which he cannot delegate and which the best teachers can possess only to a limited extent. — Ibid., p. 77- There are, I think, clear indications that the reign of agnosticism is almost over. — Prof. John Watson's "The Problem of Hegel," Philosophi- cal Review, Vol. IV, p. 353. The optimism which shuts its eyes to the misery and wickedness of the world was to him (Jesus) a false and delusive creed. The wretch- 1.59 edness and evil of man were only too palpable. — Prof. John Watson's "Christiantv and Idealism," p. 77. (The Macmillan Co.) Thus God works not upon but through the things which have come from His hands. Nature is not a dead machine, wielded by the hands of omnipotence, but it is instinct with that eternal principle which exhibits itself in the ever-recur- ring cycle of changes, inorganic and organic. — Ibid., p. 90. The false principle must show its bitter fruits, and must accomplish its perfect work before it completely reveals its true nature. Hence, the more it outwardly triumphs and shows its evil nature, the more surely is the way prepared for its final overthrow. — Ibid., p. 93. Social progress means a checking of the cos- mic process at every step and the substitution for it of another, which may be called the ethical process; the end of which is not the survival of those who happen to be fittest, in respect of the whole of the conditions which exist, but of those which are ethically the best. — Quoted from Hux- ley's ''Evolution and Morality" by Professor Watson who says, "These are perhaps the wisest, as they are almost the latest, words which Hux- ley ever wrote." — See "Christianity and Ideal- ism," p. 242. From the evolutionist point of view the mean- ing of the earlier stages must be interpreted in the light of the final stage, for it is only in the final stage that realty as a whole reveals what it truly is. — Ibid., p. 253. 160 The cosmopolitanism of the last century (18th) carried the abstract assertion of the equality of men to the paradox that civilization itself is a moral disadvantage, and that the genuine voice of humanity is to be heard only from the natural man, 'the noble savage.' — Prof. Edward Caird's ''Evolution of Religion," p. 18, Vol. I. (Mac- millan & Co.) It is this impulse to revivify and reconstruct the facts, — to make the past into a living present, while yet we understand its inner meaning in a way in which the present can never be under- stood by those who live in it, — it is this that char- acterizes the modern scientific spirit and differ- entiates it so completely from a mere casual and external curiosity. — Ibid., p. 20. The life of Nature and of all things and beings that belong to the realm of Nature is a purely immediate or objective life; at best it is a life which contains only faint foreshadowings of the self-activity that belongs to the realm of spirit. — Rev. John Caird's "Introduction to the Phil- osophy of Religion," p. 248. (Macmillan & Co.) It is the essential characteristic of a spiritual self-conscious being that the opposition between itself and the world, and between its empirical and its ideal existence, is a conscious opposition, and that the conflict by which it develops itself is not the conflict of one blind force with other blind forces, but the deeper strife of impulse with reason, the inward war with self which is possible only for a nature allied on the one side to that 161 which is universal and infinite, on the other con- trolled by the brute force of instinct and ap- petite. — Ibid., pp. 249, 250. Moral and spiritual perfection does not and cannot come to us by nature, but only as the result of struggle and self-conquest. ... It is in the reaction against nature that the higher life of morality and religion is developed. — Ibid, p. 252. In one sense the members of the social organ- ism in which I live, the institutions, the civil and political organization of the community to which I belong, are outside and independent of me, and there are certain duties and obligations which they authoritatively impose on me. They con- stitute a moral order, an external or objective morality, to which I must submit. But, in an- other sense they are not foreign to me, they are more truly me than my private self. — Ibid., p. 264. The life of duty does, and must bring us to self-harmony. ... It is only in beginning to live the higher life that we become aware of the bond- age which the lower imposes on us. — Ibid., p. 268. Wherever science deals with phenomena, which instead of being constant or ever-recurring are the manifestations of a process of develop- ment, there it is impossible to understand the present without reference to the past. — Ibid., p. 292. Of man above all other beings it is true that to know what he is, we must know what he has been. — Ibid., p. 294. See also pp. 298-300. 162 Nothing in the world is intelligible apart from its history, and man must be of all things the least so, because he is of all things the most com- plex, variable and richly endowed. — Prof. Robeit Flint's "Philosophy of History," p. i. (Charles Scribner's Sons.) For a concise and interesting statement of the nature and function of history, see Prof. Morris's "Hegel's Philosophy of the State and of His- tory," pp. 111-136. The unsatisfying nature of a life of mere pleas- ure and worldliness is well portrayed in Sir Edwin Arnold's "Light of Asia." Buddha is kept in a veritable palace of pleasures, but after a time they pall on him and he longs to escape, which having been accomplished he searches for everlasting truth. His labors were rewarded. His infinite nature received its own. Dr. Samuel Johnson in "Rasselas" gives us a similar picture except that he reaches a "conclusion in which nothing is concluded." Some of the most beau- tiful lines ever written may be found in "Ecclesi- astes," concerning the vanity of a life of mere pleasure. — R. L. It is enough at present to point out what all the strongest of human souls have observed and reported as a fact of experience; namely, that through the endurance and the conquest over its own internal ills the spirit wins its best conscio-. fulfilment. . . . For tragedy wins our interest by making us suffer, and yet consent to endure, not the tragic hero's suffering, but our own, for the sake of the spiritual beauty that we thereby learn 163 to contemplate. Courage is glorious, because it involves a conquest over our own conscious shrinking in the presence of danger. Who fears not knows not conscious courage. Endurance is noble, because it includes a voluntary defeat of our own unwillingness to endure. And, in gen- eral, every form of more complex rational life means a triumph over ourselves whereby alone we win ourselves. Whoever has not faced prob- lems as problems, mysteries as mysteries, defeats as defeats, knows not what that completer pos- session of his own life means which is the out- come and also the present experience of triumph in the midst of finitude and disaster. For in the victorious warfare with finitude consists the per- fection of spirit. — Prof. Josiah Royce's "The World and the Individual," pp. 381, 382. (The Macmillan Co.) Oh! we're sunk enough here, God knows! but not quite so sunk that moments, Sure though seldom, are denied us, when the spirit's true endowments Stand out plainly from its false ones, and apprise it if pursuing Or the right way or the wrong way, to its tri- umph or undoing. — Browning's "Christina." It seems too much like a fate, indeed! Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed. But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to "keep the nerves at strain, 164 To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, And baffled, get up and begin again, — So the chase takes up one's life, that's all. While, look but once from your farthest bound At me so deep in the dust and dark, No sooner the old hope goes to the ground Than a new one straight to the self-same mark, I shape me. — Browning's "Life in a Love." I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more. The best and the last! I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forebore, And bade me creep past. No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers, The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears, Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave. — Browning's "Prospice." In the "Last of the Barons" Bulwer thus de- scribes the contents of Book Sixth: "Wherein are opened some glimpses of the fate, below, that attends those who are better than others, and those who desire to make others better. Love, demagogy and science equally offspring of the same prolific delusion — viz., that mean souls, (the earth's majority) are worth the hope and the agony of noble souls, the everlastingly suffering and aspiring few." 165 REFERENCES. PAGE 3. " Nature as positive observation," etc. Mallock's " Is Life Worth Living?" 5. " From the homogeneous to the heterogeneous." See Spencer's "First Principles," Chap. XVII. 7. "Man was formerly little less than an angel," Cf. with Schurman's "Agnosticism and Religion," Chap. I. "Not Spirits, yet to Heavenly Spirits bright Little inferior." " Paradise Lost," Book IV. 7. "The ape and tiger." Tennyson's "In Memoriam,' CXVII. 12. "The American child is the terror," etc. Prof. R. E. Thompson. 14. Pestalozzi, like Shelley, came to see the mistakes of the naturalistic beliefs of his earlier life. The French Revolution showed him that evil grew out of man's character rather than out of institutions. 11 He learned the great truth that in the absence of external impediments man is even less, than under pressure, disposed to seek his own moral and in- tellectual improvement." Pestalozzi enthusiasts are referred to "Educational Foundations" for February, 1901. 21. "We must have order or we cannot teach." James L. Hughes's "How to Keep Order." 22. Same work referred to. 24. "We are compelled to say," etc. Prof. G. S. Morris's "Hegel's Philosophy of the State and of History." (Scott, Foresman and Co., Chicago.) 166 26. J. S. Mill. "Three Essays on Representative Government. ' ' 27. Wm, T. Harris. Rosenkranz's "Phil, of Edu- cation," p. 27. 27. "In philosophy, all that is new was once old." Prof. Knight's "Hume." (J. B. Lippincott.) 33. " Parents are not good enough." Spencer's Edu- cation, Chap. III. 36. "A knife that won't cut," etc. Dr. Oscar Gerson. 43,44. Quotations from White's "School Manage- ment," pp. 17-19. 45. " For in the isolated consciousness of the finite," etc. Prof. E. Caird' s "Evolution of Religion," Vol. I., p. 102. 47. "The vital factor in the school is the teacher." White's "School Management," p. 19. 48. "Inventory of the facts of mind." See p. 155. 48. " Current psychology," etc. Prof. Bowne's " Met- aphysics," preface, p. vii. 62. "I am whatsoever is." etc. Inscription on the temple of Isis. 64, 65. Poetry from " In Memoriam." 71. " It is rank with inexact science," etc. Quoted by Prof. Walker, "Political Economy," p. 400. Pages referred to in Spencer's "Education" cor- respond to the numbering found in Burt' s or Alli- son' s edition of " Education." 167 79- Lecky. " History ot Rationalism in Europe." 1 10. John Locke was not the first to consider the mind as a tabula rasa. It is at least as old as Aristotle. 1 16. Milton's apostrophe to wedded love — "Paradise Lost," Book IV. 134. "The Deacon's Masterpiece," by Holmes. 139. "Certainly we at present stand," etc. Prof. Knight's " Philosophy of the Beautiful," preface. 168 jane * i5 . X^O i ore .0*5;' "&*M\