The Moral Instruction of Children

by Felix Adler

XV. THE ELEMENTS OF CIVIC DUTY.

It should be the aim of the school not only to connect the system of school duties with the duties of the previous period, but also to prepare the pupils morally for the period which follows. The school is the intermediate link between life in the family and life in society and the state. The course of moral instruction, therefore, culminates for the present in the chapter on civic duties. Needless to say that at this stage the subject can be considered in its elements only.

The claims of the state upon the moral attachment of the citizen can hardly be presented too warmly. Life in the state as well as in the family is indispensable to the full development of character. Man, in his progress from childhood to old age, passes successively through ever-widening circles of duty, and new moral horizons open upon him as he grows out of one into the other. One of the largest of these circles, and, in respect to moral opportunities, one of the richest and most glorious, is the state. It may be said that the whole state exists ideally in every true citizen, or, what amounts to the same, that the true citizen embraces the interests of the state, as if they were his own, and acts from the point of view of the total body politic. Increased breadth of view and elevation of purpose are the moral benefits which accrue to every one who even honestly attempts to be a citizen in this sense.

Much attention is paid in some schools to the machinery of our government. The pupils are expected to learn the exact functions of mayors, city councils, and legislative bodies, the provisions relative to the election of the President, etc. But while these things ought to be known, they relate, after all, only to the externals of government; and it is far more important to familiarize the pupils with the animating spirit of political institutions, with the great ideas which underlie the state. There are especially three political ideas to which I should give prominence; these are, the idea of the supremacy of the law; the true idea of punishment; and the idea of nationality. After we have instilled these ideas, it will be time enough to dwell with greater particularity on the machinery by which it is sought to carry them into effect.

What method shall we use for instilling these ideas? The same which modern pedagogy applies in every branch of instruction. The rule is, Proceed from the known to the unknown; in introducing a new notion, connect it with some analogous notion already in the pupil's possession. The school offers excellent opportunities for developing the two ideas of law and punishment. In every school there exists a body of rules and regulations, or school laws. It should be made plain to the scholars that these laws are enacted for their own good. The government of the school should be made to rest as far as possible on the consent and co-operation of the governed. That school which does not secure on the part of the scholars a willing acceptance of the system of restraints which is necessary for the good of the whole, is a failure. In such an institution the law-abiding spirit can never be fostered.

The play-ground, too, affords a preliminary training for future citizenship. On the play-ground the scholars learn to select and to obey their own leaders, to maintain the rules of the game, and to put down any infraction of them, whether in the shape of violence or fraud. They also learn to defer to the will of the majority—a most important lesson, especially in democratic communities—and to bear defeat good-humoredly.[20]

The true idea of punishment should be brought home to the scholars through the discipline of the school. The ends of punishment are the protection of the community and the reformation of the offender. Nowhere better than in the little commonwealth of the school can these moral aspects of punishment be impressed; nowhere better can the foundation be laid for the changes which are so urgently needed in the dealings of the state with the criminal class. Everything, of course, depends upon the character of the teacher. His reputation for strict justice, the moral earnestness he displays in dealing with offenses, his readiness to forbear and forgive upon the least sign of genuine repentance—these are the means by which he can instill right notions as to what discipline should be. It has been suggested that, when a particularly serious case of transgression occurs, the teacher can sometimes produce a profound moral effect on the class by submitting the case to them as a jury and asking for their verdict.

The idea of nationality I regard as fundamental in political ethics. There is such a thing as national character, national genius, or national individuality. When we think of the Greeks, we think of them as pre-eminent for their achievements in art and philosophy; of the Hebrews, as the people of the Bible; of the Romans, as the founders of jurisprudence, etc. And on turning to the modern nations we find that the talents of the English, the Germans, the French, the Italians, etc., are no less diversified. Morally speaking, it is the mission of each nation in correlation with others to contribute to the universal work of civilization its own peculiar gifts. The state may be regarded as that organization of the public life which is designed to develop the national individuality; to foster the national genius in whatever direction it may seek to express itself, whether in industry, art, literature, or science; to clarify its aims, and to raise it to the highest pitch of beneficent power.

Doubtless this idea, as stated, is too abstract to be grasped by the young; but it can be brought down to their level in a tangible way. For the national genius expresses itself in the national history, and more especially is it incorporated in those great leaders, who arise at critical periods to guide the national development into new channels. It is at this point that we realize anew the important support which the teaching of history may give to the moral teaching.[21] Thus the political history of the United States, if I may be permitted to use that as an illustration of my thought, may be divided into three great periods. The struggle with nature occupied the earliest period—that of colonization; in this period we see the American man engaged in subduing a continent. The struggle for political freedom fills the period of the Revolution. The struggle for a universal moral idea lends grandeur to our civil war. The story of these three great struggles should be related with such clearness that the idea which dominated each may stand out in relief, and with such fervor that the pupils may conceive a more ardent love for their country which, at the same time that it holds out immeasurable prospects for the future, already possesses such glorious traditions. There is, however, always a great danger that patriotism may degenerate into Chauvinism. Against this, universal history, when taught in the right spirit, is the best antidote. A knowledge of universal history is an admirable check on spurious patriotism. In teaching it, it is especially desirable that the contribution which each nation has made to the progress of the world be noted and emphasized. Let the teacher speak of the early development of the literature and of the inventive spirit of the despised Chinese; of the high civilization which once flourished on the banks of the Nile; of the immortal debt we owe to Greece and Rome and Judea. Let the young be made acquainted with the important services which Ireland rendered to European culture in the early part of the middle ages. Let them learn, however briefly, of the part which France played in the overthrow of feudalism, of the wealth of German science and literature and philosophy; let them know how much mankind owes to the Parliaments of England, and to the stout heart and strong sense which made parliaments possible. It is not by underrating others, but by duly estimating and appreciating their achievements, that we shall find ourselves challenged to bring forth what is best in ourselves.

There is still another reason why, especially in American schools, the teaching of universal history should receive far greater attention than hitherto has been accorded to it. The American people are imbued with the belief that they have a problem to solve for all mankind. They have set out to demonstrate in the face of doubt and adverse criticism the possibility of popular self-government. They have thus consecrated their national life to a sublime humanitarian idea. And the sense of this consecration, echoing in the utterances of many of their leading statesmen, has more or less permeated the whole people. But the mission thus assumed, like the burden on the shoulders of Christophorus, is becoming heavier at every step. The best citizens recognize that the problem of popular self-government, so far from being solved, is but beginning to disclose itself in all its vast complexity, and they realize more than ever how necessary it is to get every possible help from the example and experience of older nations. The political lessons of the past can not indeed be mastered in the public schools. But a preliminary interest in European history may be created, which will pave the way for profitable study later on.

Furthermore, the American people have extended a most liberal invitation to members of other nationalities (with few restrictions, and these of recent origin) to come and join in working out the destinies of the new continent. Not only is an asylum granted to the oppressed—this were the lesser boon—but the gates of citizenship have been opened wide to the new-comers. What does this mean, if not that the foreigners who come, unless indeed they belong to the weak and dependent classes, are wanted; and wanted not only in their capacity as workers to aid in developing the material resources of the country, but as citizens, to help in perfecting what is still imperfect, to assist in building up in time, on American soil, the true republic.

In return for this privilege the citizens of foreign birth owe it to their adopted country to place the best of their racial gifts at its service. Much that the citizens of foreign birth bring with them, indeed, will have to be eliminated, but, on the other hand, many of their traits will probably enter as constituent elements into the national character. The Anglo-Saxon race has now the lead, and will doubtless keep it. But in the melting-pot of the American commonwealths the elements of many diverse nationalities are being mixed anew, and a new nationality distinctively American is likely to be the final outcome of the process. Thus both the humanitarian ideal and the actual make-up of the people betray a cosmopolitan tendency, and it is this tendency which, more perhaps than anything else, gives to American political life its characteristic physiognomy. If this be so, if the foreign elements are so numerous and likely to be so influential, it is surely important that the foreign races, their character and their history, be studied and understood.

Besides explaining the political ideas, I should briefly describe the actual functions of government. Government protects the life and property of its citizens against foreign aggression and violence at home. Government maintains the binding force of contracts. Government reserves to itself the coinage of money, carries the mails, supports public education, etc. In a word, government assumes those functions which can be discharged more satisfactorily or more economically by the joint action of the community than if left to private individuals or corporations. But government also undertakes the duty of protecting the weaker classes against oppression by the stronger, as is shown by factory legislation in the interest of women and minors. How far this function may profitably be extended is open to discussion; but that it has been assumed in all civilized countries is a fact which should be noted.