THE DISTINCTIVE AIMS of the ETHICAL CULTURE SCHOOLS Four Addresses Delivered Before the Teachers of the Schools By DR. FELIX ADLER ' • :> V. • * /. ■ *•: W • Vv •> . v : . - • • : : : , - Vv v ^ ,. ■*. '. ► •** .. . Vj . . J* , • - ...; h> . , ., • ,' ■ . .v:•. ,*fw> ^ '• • ’• ■o’J 1 •;• r*. *>. ^ ' v ' - f » • y r>♦*»>«£■* *•-.?.*-• * v. v* - /,*. t ■■ r '* 1 -iVr. * . > . ( '■ • - ■■. * . • . * » • • . »’■ *v *.V< ; •'• •- *.';» ' '••<-. . ", ’ • •’>*•' f '\» ■ ;•• ■ . *■■'.■ ' f .r ** 1 1 c ■ i -. v , . ;■ <> ■. ".- • •. • ■*' ' • ■ "’• , v» - •• . fiSA -■ ' • . • *:> :••' ‘J? . '•■•'• ''..‘'CwV-V oV' : “, >■•..*>•• . ’ iV. ■ I V.-'-i’;,->",£■ •'-,■■■■--Vw i- -v, ■ IS ' - • : ■ ; ■; ■ ■ . '■ ¥*& ; •■•■••'■ :/, • ‘ "''.'‘V'; ■,-•■ ;.-?L '!' •-. 0 •'•» -'c.- •i ■ ' • -■ ■ c H . ..r; ' ^ . ; S ' 1 , •• , .« '/. v •'■ O' A . •, ■ - ■ v. ■ ,-•• -V: : * ' Mi! ■ ' -A ?• ■ ' ^ jf' W -V ;A pJ&jj • .. IV '« ! •;;•••*•.•*.•' A> 1 ..!'yY : '. ..... . •. -yx® • f -1' . ,A ■■•■ V, • v ii'V-'J ■ v V r. The Distinctive Aims of the Ethical Culture Schools FOUR ADDRESSES Delivered Before the Teachers of the Schools By DR. FELIX ADLER THE SOCIETY FOR ETHICAL CULTURE OF NEW YORK 1902 \ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates https://archive.org/details/distinctiveaimsoOOadle I 70 AW 'A a Distinctive Aims of the Kthical Culture Schools FIRST ADDRESS Not Character Building in General but a Specific Type of Character F ROM the papers containing the teachers’ observations on the sub¬ ject of ethical training and its problems, it would appear that the point upon which their minds are chiefly ex¬ ercised is whether ethical teaching can be systematically done or whether it can be done only incidentally. It may be admitted that the dangers of systematic ethical instruction are great, but they are overbalanced by its advantages. This problem, however, must be dealt with later. The purpose of the present ad¬ dress is to outline the distinctive aim of the Ethical Culture Schools; and this is necessary because, with the enlargement and improvement of the Society’s Schools that will come with the occupa¬ tion of the new School Building, it be¬ comes increasingly important that the teachers should be sympathetic with the general aims and spirit of the Schools. When the Schools were started twenty-three years ago, there were very few good training schools in the country, and hence, only few good craftsmen to choose from; and it was technical skill that was first of all sought in selecting teachers. Now, however, there are many good craftsmen available, and the Society * Addresses given before the teachers of the schools by Dr. Felix Adler. The first, second and third are given in abstract, the fourth in full. may therefore select from them those who are in sympathy with its ideal. This does not mean that its teachers are to subscribe to creed; but that they should know what the aims of the Society are, and how it proposes to embody these aims, and that they should consider care¬ fully whether they are sufficiently in sym¬ pathy with these to be able to work heartily for their advancement. An impression that quite commonly prevails is that the Schools can no longer be regarded as having a dis¬ tinctive aim. Assuming that the aim may be stated as that of character-build¬ ing, it is said that this is virtually the aim of all good schools. To which the answer must be made that the aim of our Schools is not character-building in general. This phrase, now so widely current in the educational world, is so vague in meaning that it tells us very little as to the definite aims and true spirit of any school that adopts it. “Character” must be interpreted; for there are many types of it. For example, there is the ideal of the “Christian gen¬ tleman” (using both these terms in their customary and literal sense), which pre¬ vails at such a school as Groton. There is the ideal which the Jesuit Schools work out so efficiently;—the ideal of absolute obedience to authority. Our School stands for neither of these. Nor 4 does it stand for the vague eclecticism which combines ten or a dozen ideas like honesty, truthfulness, etc. If this were all that is meant by the phrase “Ethical Culture,” those who ad¬ vocate incidental instead of direct and systematic instruction in ethics would probably be right. The School stands at once for the de¬ velopment of a distinctive kind of char¬ acter and a specific kind of culture. It does not stand as Harvard does for cos¬ mopolitan culture, nor as Yale does for a robust democratic spirit, nor, as some of the Western universities do, for readi¬ ness or alertness. All these ideals of character and culture imply the prepar¬ ing of the individual to fit into a given social environment. The ideal of the School is not the adaptation of the indi¬ vidual to the existing social environ¬ ment ; it is to develop persons who will be competent to change their environ¬ ment to greater conformity with moral ideals; that is, to put it boldly, to train reformers. But this must be rightly un¬ derstood. By “reformers” are meant persons who believe that their salvation consists in reacting beneficently upon their environment. This ideal of bene¬ ficent activitv, beneficent transformation of faulty environment, is the ideal of the Society and of the School. This, then, is what is meant by character-building. There are four corollaries that result from this position: i. Children must be protected from the debasing influences of their city en¬ vironment — commercialism, luxurious¬ ness, pleasure-seeking, sensuousness, etc. We are dealing with children who are not to be sent from home:—the pa¬ rent is not to give way to the boarding- school teacher. The children must be given a protected environment at home. This is the real reason for the new build¬ ing, which is to create the right kind of environment for our children during a considerable portion of their day. 2. Children are to be developed into duly conservative men and women. The unbalanced reformer is most harmful. The lessons of history, especially of his¬ tory taught from the standpoint of evo¬ lution, should give this balance. The idea of evolution should, in fact, be ap¬ plied to all branches of study, so that the history of every subject as well as the subject itself is to be taught. 3. Children should be so taught that they get an enthusiasm for progress. They should come to know of the human sweat and toil by which alone progress has been secured. (This may be com¬ bined with point two under the general statement that the idea of evolution should be applied both to the material and the spiritual elements in progress.) 4. The School should develop men and women who have a reasoned-out ideal of progress. Hence the necessity of sys¬ tematic ethical instruction; for the mere study of history will not accomplish this. There is need for objective ideals, work¬ ing hypotheses of conduct. The question is raised immediately whether these ideals are to be taught dogmatically. The answer must be negative; the teach¬ ing must not be dogmatic, for it would then interfere with personal liberty. This requires more discussion than can be given at this meeting. 5 SECOND ADDRESS The School as a Protecting Environment A T the last meeting it was stated that the purpose of the School is to train reformers, meaning by reformers persons who are capable of reacting beneficently upon their environ¬ ment; and that, inasmuch as the natural environment is unfavorable, the first re¬ quisite to this end must be the creation of a protected environment. This involves at once the danger of the School’s antag¬ onizing the home; for the home condi¬ tions are often unfavorable. The harm¬ ful influences must be counteracted, but in such a way that the home will not be antagonized. The chief faults of the homes are lux¬ uriousness and love of pleasure. (i.) Luxuriousness. To counteract this, the School must create an environ¬ ment favorable to simplicity. It may also arrange for summer camps, etc.; and so provide means by which children of lux¬ urious homes may live under very simple or even primitive conditions during the summer months. (2.) Love of pleasure. Even when this pleasure is of the more refined sort, love of pleasure for its own sake is dan¬ gerous. It may well be questioned whether the “New Education,”—the School therefore, as well as the home,—is not at fault in this matter. It is quite possible to inter¬ pret the doctrine of interest upon which the New Education lays such stress in such a way as to make it mean entertain¬ ment, amusement; and so to introduce in¬ to the school itself this very pleasure-seek¬ ing which the school should guard against. Interest may well be utilized to arouse the pupil’s power to start with; then, however, he should learn to use his powers to work for work’s sake; to grind, whether he finds it pleasant or unpleas¬ ant, and without new interests being con¬ tinually supplied. When he has finished his work there is again interest or pleas¬ ure,—the pleasure of achievement. There should thus be a balance between pleasure and drudgery. Some strenu¬ ousness, and a due insistence upon the adequate performance of assigned tasks within the time allotted for them, are ab¬ solutely necessary to preserve power and virility. Laxness here means, again, that the school falls in with the pleasure-seek¬ ing tendencies of the time, instead of standing firm against them. To train re¬ formers, then, (in the sense in which the term has been employed) means protect¬ ing the young through the School envir¬ onment and influence against the evils of luxuriousness and pleasure-seeking. Our main idea of training men and women who shall transform their envir¬ onment seems to be a novel and radical one. Thus, Dr. Butler said lately that the purpose of the New Education is to produce men and women who can ad¬ just themselves to their environment. The Ethical School idea includes this, but it considers this adjustment to be the means, not the end; the end being the re¬ adjustment of the environment. The next question is whether the chil¬ dren in the school should become con¬ scious of this ideal—whether they should think of the school, in short, as an elite school—not, of course, in the sense in which West Point or Harvard or Yale or select schools for the wealthy are elite; but elite in the sense of standing for the 6 principle of self-consecration to an ideal. The clanger in arousing this conscious¬ ness lies in the possibility of its leading to an “I am-holier-than-thou” feeling on the part of the pupils. This is probably not a serious danger, and on the whole it seems probable that this elite idea, as interpret¬ ed above, is the one that will help most ,in accomplishing the purposes of the School. It is the simple fact that the School was founded, and has been and is supported, by people devoted to this ethi¬ cal ideal. The pupils should know this; indeed, they have no right to be in the School at all if they do not believe in its purposes. It may be well to assume a purely hy¬ pothetical case: Suppose a pupil to say, "Yes, I understand that the School is to train reformers, but I don’t want to be one.” The reply with which he should be met will involve the doctrine of elec¬ tion:—"It is not a question of willing¬ ness ; you have no choice. As soon as a new ideal has been presented to you and you have recognized it as higher than the one you have already, you are already elected to be a follower of that ideal.” It thus appears that the environment of the School must be a protected environ¬ ment, if it is to keep its bargain with its founders; and that the elite idea will be helpful if it means to the pupils responsi¬ bilities rather than privileges. If the School is thoroughly permeated with these ideals, evils must disappear. The final point to be made in the dis¬ cussion of this corollary is that to carry out this plan of a protected environment, the School should have a larger part of the time of the pupils under its immediate control; and this will be possible in the new building. THIRD ADDRESS Developing Enthusiasm for Moral Progress I T should be stated once more that the object of education is not to develop the ability to adjust oneself to envir¬ onment, but rather the ability to change environment, that is, in other words, to forward the progress of the world. We have next to consider how we are to create enthusiasm for this progress, and a desire to contribute to it? Not by preaching, which is largely an appeal to feeling, and hence not likely to produce a lasting effect; not on the other hand, by an appeal to the intellect alone, for this also is likely not to result in anything permanent. The end must be compassed by pedagogical methods; class-room in¬ struction is necessarv. This instruction should evoke and emphasize the idea of evolution or development—perhaps "de¬ velopment” is the better word, since "evo¬ lution” is so closely associated with the theory of Herbert Spencer. Thus, in teaching science, for example, not only facts and laws but the history (in outline only) of the growth of this knowledge should be taught. In this way the atti¬ tude of finality which naturally attaches itself to text-books will be removed; and pupils will come to see how long is the procession of those by whom this knowl¬ edge has been built up; and to feel that they are called upon to form a part of it. They should be given a glimpse of the dawn of civilization: and realizing the 7 length of the march from then to now, should get the idea of progress, of move¬ ment, of the whole world moving. The teacher of natural science has especially good opportunities for bringing out this idea. In manual training, again, while the immediate aim is to develop manual skill, there is here also the opportunity to give the child an epitomized history of the de¬ velopment of ‘ industry. The industrial museum is not merely a matter of curios¬ ity, but an illustration of industrial de¬ velopment. In art, the development of art and what it has meant in the history of various peo¬ ples may be shown. Literature, too, is particularly well adapted to this kind of treatment, exhibiting, as it does, the de¬ veloping ideals of humanity. But the most important of all subjects in illustrating this idea is history. The central idea here is that of Froebel, i. e. to make the child acquainted both with nature and with humanity. The clue that is followed, though not too strictly, is that of the sequence of the seasons. There are seasonal races, the Eskimos illustrate winter, the Hindoos summer, and so on. The object of this is to make the child acquainted with the human race as one, despite differences. In the higher grades, the idea is to show what other na¬ tions have to do with our own. This is done by taking the best types of each, so that the children may have a few great names and personalities flashing into their lives, and thus get the idea of hu¬ manity as well as that of the nation. The teacher of history should show what each nation has contributed to the progress of the race, starting with the early civiliza¬ tions, with Persia perhaps, and coming down to the present time and the idea of democracy. They should now be brought to ask, What is the aim of Democracy? What has it done? What is left for it to clo? They should eventually be brought to see that there are two great problems awaiting solution: i. How to make the best men rulers and leaders; and 2. How to bring about Aristotle’s idea of securing the best life to each citi¬ zen? We do not yet know, apparently, what the best life is; the majority seem to define it as the life of material ease, or of the pursuit of happiness, which is a fatal mistake. It should be defined as the pursuit of perfection. By these means, then, boys and girls may be brought to see how progress has come about, and how long it takes for a single new idea to establish itself. Thus, they will become duly conservative, while animated by the idea of continuous change in the direction of progress. History is the most important aid of ethics. It is not simply a study of causes: that is too difficult for children. Neither is it merely scientific history, for knowl¬ edge alone is not sufficient. The aim is rather to get a few large results, to see the light upon a few of the peaks of hu¬ man progress. It is impossible to follow every step in the development of the race; the facts are not known. We can only pick out the things that are of greatest value. It is possible that the high school course may become lengthened to five or six years, preparing students to .enter the junior year in college; in that case it will be possible to go into details; but in the elementary school it is possible only to lay foundations. The words “reform” and “reformer” should probably not be used in all this effort to create reformers. The child is to absorb at first; to get things by con¬ tagion, through example. He should be brought into admiring relations with men and women who have caused progress. Full reflective consciousness comes later. The elementary school should cultivate 8 love of humanity and of the nation. If tne narrow, jingo patriotism that is so humanity, if the race-idea is emphasized false and harmful, as well as the national idea, we shall avoid FOURTH ADDRESS Incidental Versus Systematic Moral Teaching T HE argument in favor of inci¬ dental teaching has two sup¬ ports. One is the psychological doctrine of interest. Offer food to your pupil when he is hungry. Strike when the iron is hot, and it will yield to the blows that are intended to give it the right shape. When your pupil has come into collision with the moral law, when his relations to others are all tangled up, when he is bitter, sore, confused, per¬ plexed, bruised,—then point out to hirn the cause that has produced this condi¬ tion, and take him by the hand and show him the road he must follow to return to a normal life. Can there be any doubt that a lesson imparted under such cir¬ cumstances will have the honest ring of reality about it, and will make a per¬ manent impression ? This is perhaps the main argument, on the one side, and I judge from your papers that it has found favor with many of you. The other argument is similar, and yet distinct from this one: even the assim¬ ilation of knowledge pure and simple, of knowledge for the sake of knowing, can¬ not be carried on to advantage unless the appetite is sharpened. It is feared that systematic ethics teaching, which appeals largely to the intellect at moments when interest in the subject taught is not spontaneously active, and which offers directions for the guidance of conduct in matters lying outside the immediate experience of the pupil, and which, therefore, cannot be immediately put into practice, will have the effect of weakening the 'connection between insight and conduct, between moral knowledge and the exemplifica¬ tion of such knowledge in actual life; and will thus wound, if not destroy, the morality of the pupil at what is conceded to be its vital point. The foundation of the law of the conservation of energy is the formula of the mechanical equivalent of heat. A certain amount of heat is always convertible into an equivalent amount of mechanical energy. In the realm of moral mechanics there seems to be a similar law, a similar relation. There must be heat; and how can there be heat without interest ? And this heat must be convertible into action. If it does not spend itself in action, it is worthless. If it means nothing more than a raising of the internal tempera¬ ture, it is like a fever, a sign of moral disease rather than of health. I have stated as fairly as I can the two arguments on which rests the objection to the systematic teaching of morals. I shall now endeavor to show, first, that incidental Ethics teaching is inadequate, and secondly, how systematic teaching may be given in such a way as to avoid the evil effects above mentioned. Incidental teaching is not sufficiently inclusive, does not cover the ground. It is invaluable when opportunities arise that permit of it. But these opportuni¬ ties do not arise often enough and are not varied enough. Consider for a mo¬ ment your own past life, especially your life in school. How many occasions 9 were there when you laid yourself open to a deep and penetrating interference on the part of your teacher or your elders ? These crises rarely occur. And when they do occur, they generally re¬ late to some negative aspect of morality. There has been some transgression of the moral law, such as cheating in class, or a falsehood, or the defiance of the teacher’s authority, or a quarrel of a more than ordinary kind between pupils, and the like. The wise teacher or prin¬ cipal will use the opportunity to talk the matter out thoroughly with the pupil, to go into the causes that have led to the present calamity, so as to show him the seriousness of the moral law and to help him to an effort at sincere reform. But there are many pupils in whose school life no such critical moments arise. And yet these pupils may be morally quite unregenerate, quite under the influence of maxims of self-pleasing. Only, in their case there is no eruption at the sur¬ face, and so there will be no occasion for the beneficent operation of the kind of incidental teaching which we here have in mind. As a rule there is no op¬ portunity given to the teacher to de¬ velop the ideas that underlie the duty of reverence toward parents, the fraternal duties, the duties toward inferiors, the duty of the social classes toward each other, etc. I say, there is no spon¬ taneous or natural opportunity to dis¬ cuss these matters unless the opportu¬ nity is artificially created; and if it is, why, then, to that extent, we accept the principle of systematic teaching. By the incidental method we mean waiting until something happens and seizing the occasion to take one’s moral bearings, to show the punitive and other moral forces that are implicated in what has happened. But I contend that, if we want to be strictly true to the in¬ cidental method, we shall fail to educate the moral nature of our pupils because there is not enough that happens in this incidental fashion. And that which hap¬ pens generally has to do with the nega¬ tive aspect of morality rather than with the aspect of positive ideals. But it will be said that no sensible teacher would content himself with dwelling merely on the negative side of duty, with showing the obverse side of the medal without immediately turning it about and show¬ ing also the reverse side. In a case where cheating in class has occurred, the incidental moral teaching would be con¬ cerned with the wickedness of deception and also with the duty and excellence of honesty. If the pupil has lied, it would be explained to him, not only why the falsehood is detestable, but why veracity is admirable, etc. This is admitted, but on the ground that all virtues are mere exemplifications of a single virtuous principle, and that they derive their chief cogency from their connection with one another. I understand by a positive moral ideal an all-embracing ideal, a uni¬ fying principle which shall connect the different forms of virtue with one an¬ other. So that the several stones of duty, by their pressure against one an¬ other, and against the central stone which keeps them all in place, shall form a stable arch of duty. But the moral truths which are delivered by the in¬ cidental method are fragments which the pupil does not know how to piece together. By this method he is moral¬ ized in spots. A friend of mine, an artist, with an artist’s impatience of set rules and any sort of constraint that interferes with individual liberty, has undertaken to apply the incidental method, in the case of his children, to the teaching of read¬ ing, writing, history, geography, and all the ordinary branches of a curriculum. If the child wants to communicate with his absent friends, he is informed that a convenient way of doing so is by writ¬ ing; and if the spirit moves him suffi¬ ciently, he learns to write. Stories are read to him and perhaps not finished—I am not sure that this is the way, but I imagine it is—and he is told that if he wants to know the end of the story he must learn to read. After he has ac¬ quired the art of reading any book that happens to fall in his way he can dip into and try to master. Any subject of knowledge he is at liberty to take up. If this desultory method is carried out consistently, it must lead to its inevit¬ able result—a disordered mind, a smat¬ tering of many things and real knowl¬ edge of nothing; or if the child is excep¬ tionally persistent, a condensation of knowledge at certain points, with large gaps or mental deserts in other places, minute, excessively detailed information on some subjects, with an absence of even rudimentary information on many other equally important subjects. Moreover, if the child is really anxious to learn, it will soon appear that the desultory method must be dropped, and the systematic method must be resorted to. Suppose that the artist’s child men¬ tioned happens to be attracted by a book on astronomy or on political economy. My own son, when about twelve years of age, was anxious to know by what means astronomers have been able to determine the distances of the stars from the earth. He was also interested in the silver question, which was much talked of at the time, and wanted to discuss the pros and cons. In such a case as this, we come upon a fact fundamental in all education: that there is a certain order in which the conceptions of the human mind have got to be built up, and that it is impossible to explain the concep¬ tions of a higher order unless a founda¬ tion of the more elementary conceptions has first been securely laid. And this applies to moral education as well. And it is the decisive reason why the incidental method will not serve, why there must be systematic teaching. The higher moral conceptions presume the lower. They cannot be rightly grasped before the lower have been thoroughly assimilated. And the master who relies entirely on incidental moral teaching, will find himself baffled in trying to meet the difficulties of his pupil, just in the same manner as the teacher who would attempt to explain a difficult problem in astronomy or in economics, because the simpler processes of reasoning have not been achieved upon which the cogency of the more complex processes depends. And if, in a given case, he tries to make up for this deficiency by rapidly going over the whale ground, he will only be doing hastily and unsatisfactorily that which, in order to be well done, must be the work of years. The incidental method, then, does not cover the field, does not furnish a unify¬ ing conception, and does not provide for an orderly sequence in the building up of moral ideals. For these reasons it must be rejected. Returning to the systematic method, let us now see whether the objections to that method can be removed, and, if so, by what means. The chief objection, as you will remember, is that of breeding a barren intellectualism, a cold, abstract way of looking at moral ideals, and of weakening the connection between pre¬ cept and practice. These difficulties can, to a large extent, be avoided. First, by the right attitude on the part of the teacher. He should teach his subject not only with great warmth and earnest¬ ness and a sense of the sacredness of it, preparing his mind for a moral lesson as a clergyman would for a sermon; but he should be careful always to impart to his pupils the impression that the per¬ formance of duty is the greatest thing in life; and that, this being taken for granted, the purpose of the moral lesson is not at all to weigh and debate whether the right is to be done, but to help us to see more clearly what is right, and to enable us more perfectly to do the right. Just as little as when a ship founders at sea there can be any ques¬ tion, among the ship’s company, as to whether they shall try to reach the land, but only as to the direction in which the land lies, and by what means—raft or boat—they may best be able to make their way towards it; so, in a moral les¬ son, when in danger, as we always are, of foundering in a fluctuating sea of pas¬ sion and desire, the question cannot be whether we wish to reach the land, but where it lies and how to get there. The general presumption is—and this must be kept prominently in view in the man¬ ner in which the teacher handles the subject—that there is an object which we intensely desire, and that we are only studying in order to find out how to attain that object. Such an infinitely im¬ portant thing is it to do the right! Our worth as human beings, the success or failure of our life, so utterly depends upon this, that we want to use every pos¬ sible diligence that we may not miss our aim. To try to prove that right doing is the chief aim would be preposterous. The conscience of the teacher speaks. The conscience of ‘Mie pupil responds. (The difference between Ethics and other subjects like Mathematics, is not that ethical laws are asserted dogmatic¬ ally, while mathematical truths can be' proved. The pupil finds himself con¬ fronted by statements the truth of which rests, in the first instance, on the author¬ ity of the adult. The pupil would not be able to see his way to the end of a diffi¬ cult geometrical demonstration and de¬ cide, relying on his own insight, what may be the correct outcome. The standard is set, the truth is asserted by the superior mind that has traveled over the ground before him. If he does not see it, it is his fault. He must learn to see things as his teacher sees them. This holds good also m Ethics. There is dogmatic assertion in the first instance, and verification afterwards. The differ¬ ence between Ethics and Science lies in the method of verification.) Secondly, a part, at least, of the Eth¬ ics instruction, is capable of immediate application. When, for example, the teacher speaks of the duties to parents, —obedience, reverence,—of the signifi¬ cance of slight acts of loving service as indicating a filial spirit, he will send his pupils home, if he be the right kind of teacher, with the determination to per¬ form such acts, to render such service. The same applies to the finer interpre¬ tation of friendship, which is given in the ethics lessons as a standard by which the young people can immediately meas¬ ure their friendships with one another. The same is true, of course, of the fra¬ ternal duties, of the duties of charity to the poor, of mental and moral charity, which are successively taken up and dis¬ cussed. There is a large stretch of the road traveled by the moral lessons which lies within the range of the pupil’s daily experience, and in regard to which the fear expressed,—that by isolating the moral principles and subjecting them to theoretical exposition, the connection between precept and practice is broken, —is not justified, not even relevant. Thirdly, however, there are certain duties, like the duties of the citizen to the State, the duties of the various pro¬ fessions and vocations, etc., which lie beyond the pupil’s present range of ac- tivity, and which yet stand out broadly and conspicuously in the ethical teach¬ ings. Here it seems, if anywhere, the reproach of pure theoreticism, of pure intellectualism, of divorcing precept from practice, must apply. For the pupil is not yet a citizen, and cannot per¬ form the duties of citizenship. He does not yet follow a vocation and perform the duties of a vocation. Nor, though he can perform individual acts of charity, can he make war against the great social evils, can he help to elevate the working class, or to improve the treatment of prisoners, or mitigate the horrors of war. And yet in our ethics lesson, at least in the High School, we call atten¬ tion from the very outset to these great social evils, and we dwell upon the achievements of men like John Howard and Robert Owen, and of women like Florence Nightingale; and we make a great deal of the duties of the vocations, and of such duties as the citizen owes to the State. Are we doing harm to the pupil in ac¬ quainting him, even in some detail, with the duties which he is not yet in a posi¬ tion to practice? We should be doing him harm if the heat of interest or the flame of enthusiasm were allowed to spend itself aimlessly, if there were no outlook whatever upon action, no outlet upon ac¬ tion. Rut there is an outlook upon action. What we are doing is to create in the pupil what may be called hypo¬ thetical resolves,—resolves, if certain contingencies arise, if certain opportuni¬ ties present themselves, to act in certain ways. What we are doing is to trace out, by way of anticipation, the lines of conduct along which the future citizen and professional man is to move, and which, because they have been traced out previously, will be lines of less re¬ sistance than otherwise they would be. And, just as in Nature there is such a thing as potential energy,—that is, energy which is stored up, bound for the time being, but not the less real on that account, and ready on occasions to vent itself in the most powerful effects; so, in our ethics lessons we are storing up potential moral energy which does not need to vent itself fully in immediate action, which may remain latent for a season, and which, nevertheless, when the opportunity comes, will show its reality, its effectiveness. Nay, we may go farther and say that, even in these cases where duty is beyond the range of the pupil, there is, all the same, an immediate outlet in action pos¬ sible, namely, action in such cases is directed toward making preparation for the discharge of duties later on. When the duties of the vocations have been ex¬ hibited, the impulse to action takes the form of enhancing the diligence and stif¬ fening the perseverance of the pupil in those studies which will lead him to his chosen vocation, so that he may be able to conform to the ideal of the physician, or the teacher of religion which has been set before him. When the duties of citi¬ zenship have been explained, the impulse to action will take the form of stimu¬ lating the student to manifest at once, in the little school community to which he belongs, the same virtues of respect for law, of a disposition to make the good of each tributary to the good of all, and the like, which are the foundation of ethical relations in the larger field. There is no duty taught that is not ap¬ plicable either directly, immediately or mediately, in the shape of present prepa¬ ration for future fulfillment. And thus the main reproach against systematic, theoretic, moral instruction, if the in¬ struction is carried on by the right method, in the right spirit, falls to the ground. Leading Ideas of Our System of Ethical Instruction A word or two now as to the system itself which underlies the moral teaching of our school. I have a few words only as to certain points. These, to be prop¬ erly apprehended, require to be devel¬ oped in a full course of lectures on the subject. But a few hints, a few glimpses, I should like here to add. In the Ele¬ mentary School, the aim is, on the whole, to enlarge the pupil’s grasp on some of the essential moral facts; just to put him in possession of the facts, without offer¬ ing him explanations. This is done by enabling him to enter vicariously into the experience of others, be these others ideal types or historical personages. With the help of the Bible stories, the child’s range of moral experience is wonderfully widened. Especially the re¬ lations that arise within the circle of the family are revealed to him in some of their complexities. The workings of jealousy, as between brothers, its inner causes and its ruinous consequences, are made clear to him in the stories of Cain and Abel, of Jacob and Esau, of Joseph and his brethren. It is a mistake to suppose that chil¬ dren’s minds are simple. On the con¬ trary, they are often extremely complex in their processes. The child sees the complexities of its own nature mirrored in the complexities of the story, and also the solution of such complexities. The child is apt to realize in the story of Moses the inner experience of the strong who attempt to defend the weak against their oppressors, an experience with which, on account of its own weak¬ ness, it is peculiarly in sympathy, whether these oppressors be the brutal shepherds at the well of Midian, or Pharaoh and his hosts oppressing and enslaving a whole people. The child is taught to realize the beauty of loyalty toward a superior, even when that supe¬ rior is a persecutor, as in the story of Saul and David in the cave. The child is taught to appreciate voluntary self- sacrifice in the case of Ruth and Naomi; in the magnanimous friendship between the heir to the throne and the man who is destined to supplant him; in the depth and tenderness and strength of a father’s love in the bitter lament of David over his rebellious son. These and other valu¬ able experiences are vicariously made the property of the pupil with the help of the Bible stories; experiences which no incidental teaching could touch upon, because there would probably be no oc¬ casion in the life of the pupil to refer to them. His moral horizon is enlarged. His moral feelings are deepened and re¬ fined. In the Hebrew legislation many minor points of morals are cleared up,—minor, as not relating to the chief command¬ ments, but capital in producing the right set-of the will, the right attitude on moral questions, the right spirit. Such, for in¬ stance, are the duty of diligence in searching out the owner of lost property, of efforts to save the imperiled property of enemies, of careful abstention from acts which, in their remote consequences, may cause damage to others, etc. In the next division of the Elementarv j Course we deal with the virtues that emerge within the circumference of the State. The family is the bounding circle in the previous division. The State is the bounding circle when the instruction is carried on in the Seventh and Eighth Grades. And here we take as our texts selected portions from the history of Greece and the history of Rome. The pupil is helped to realize how Greece was well-nigh suffocated by overwhelming numbers during the struggle with Persia, 14 is made to realize why it was that a handful prevailed against myriads, what great, inspiring issues were at stake,— democracy against imperialism, the lib¬ erty of the individual against centralized control, the free development of science and art in a free State as against a sys¬ tem which crushes individuality and pre¬ vents therefore the highest Teachings out toward truth and beauty. And the pupil is also helped to realize the means by which this struggle was successfully car¬ ried on. And here there is a chance to show how the personal virtues are connected with the interests of the State. The virtue of temperance is dwelt upon in connection with the fight at Thermo- pyle; the intellectual virtues in connec¬ tion with the story of the age of Pericles and its achievements in science and art; obedience to the laws of the State, as founded on the acceptance of law in the personal life, is dwelt upon as illustrated in the life of Socrates, also the combined dignity and humility of the man. The story of Rome brings out chiefly two ideas. Not, as in Greece, the inspir¬ ing ends of the State, which should ap- t i peal to the citizen and lead him of his own accord to put life and property in jeopardy for its sake. But these two ideas: first, the supereminent claims of the State above the claims of any of the lesser groups included within it, the right of the State to crush . out family affection and individual warfare in order to its own perpetuation,—as in the case of Brutus sentencing his own son, of Coriolanus, of the Horatii, etc.; and, secondly, the right of all who are willing to conform to the requirements of the State to be included within the domain of citizenship. Nowhere else is the right of the State, not so much to suggest as to exact sacrifices, so powerfully brought home as in Roman history. And, while in Greece citizenship was ever restricted, the whole history of Rome may be re¬ garded as the history of the progressive expansion of the circle of citizenship from patricians to plebeians, from Romans to Italians, from Italians to provincials, until it included the greater portion of the civilized world. When we come to the High School period a great change in the method of teaching takes place. The object is no longer merely to widen the moral ex¬ perience of the pupil, to extend his moral horizon, to refine his moral feelings, but to supply him with a working hypothesis in ethics, with a principle—not a meta¬ physical one, but still a unifying one— from which all the separate duties can be derived. And, as in the age of adoles¬ cence, the inner personal life of the stu¬ dent acquires a prominence which it had not before, the aim is to exhibit the general principle of ethics primarily and fundamentally as it applies in the inner life of the individual, to show how the strictly personal duties may be derived from it, and then, on the sure foundation of the personal duties, to erect the whole superstructure of the social duties. Or, rather, to express my thought more precisely, to take the striving of the in¬ dividual soul after perfection as a start¬ ing-point, and then to show how this striving can only be satisfied, how the individual personality can only be real¬ ized, in and through the relations to others. The unifying principle which we adopt is the principle of perfection or of prog¬ ress. The attempt is made in this course, after the enthusiasm for prog¬ ress has been inculcated, by the method which I described in my last talk, and the knowledge of the facts of human progress has been acquired, to formulate definitely the ideal of progress and to mark out the direction in which it should be achieved. An attempt is made to T 5 show that progress does not consist in the increase of material goods, or ma¬ terial well-being, or in mere knowledge or technical skill, or in ease and joyous¬ ness of life. But progress is explained as centering pre-eminently in the moral relations, in so acting as to diminish the evils of the world—the evils of poverty, of ignorance and of the anti-social set of the will—in so acting ourselves as to elicit the spiritual possibilities of other natures; the test of right action being just this beneficent reaction which it provokes in others. In this way, the stu- ■ dent is led to rebuild anew his moral world, to regard the duties of the family, of the vocations, the duties of the citizen to the State, the duties of nation to nation, as so many means and oppor¬ tunities of eliciting the hidden possibili¬ ties of the larger spiritual life, and of growing, as an individual, more and more into the fulness and stature of the spiritual whole of which he is a mem¬ ber. The last outlook that is opened is upon a perfect society, an ideal com¬ munity, of spiritual beings, a Kingdom of Heaven, a City of the Light. To accomplish the end here outlined or indicated we train men and women who shall not only have a vague sense that the world is a moving procession, a feeling of delight in the forward move¬ ment, a knowledge of the facts of prog¬ ress, but shall also have a clear concep¬ tion of the aims toward which all this progress should tend, and should have this last and far-reaching outlook. It is essential, of course, that the teachers themselves should have that outlook. The Ethical Culture School can only suc¬ ceed if its staff of teachers are pene¬ trated by a deep spiritual feeling, are enlightened by definite spiritual ideas, and have this same outlook upon a Kingdom of Heaven or City of the Light, upon a Temple of Humanity in which the lives of the pupils they train shall be the building-stones. In the business of teaching we are apt to be immersed in the details and absorbed in the technique of our tasks. We must teach mathematics and science and grammar and composition and the like. We must pay attention to the separate stones and see to it that they are prop¬ erly cut and squared and trimmed. But our whole occupation becomes futile un¬ less we constantly bear in mind the place these separate stones are to fill in the grand edifice, unless we have constantly before our minds the architectural sketch, or the vision of that noble radiant temple which, by the help of these and others like them, is to be slowly advanced toward completeness. . . ' 1M * - > . ' . :• - . Y.V‘ ■>,< V*: • •’ > «:•> ,*■ -' v' » * ' -, • • '-j. >2? *•. i*5Cs . i ► I &- ••*'•*. ■ -V ■ .*H >•>•••••- V/ 1 . 2>Y ;. »•* r -*. * * -> &• • -V * . . • r,-. -> * ■? i i V ,r f V %•„> ,;57>* v *r •• •• *v : . ' r ‘ . ■ . ■ l '' SY. . •: v • „._gs§&g® V- " •'• •'.••■■-• • ••' . ’‘V • A Vf ir -^r V : -- O -• ..A •; ' * v' v v .'