When moral instruction in school passes into what the boys call preaching, the zealous teacher often dulls the point of any possible interest in the subject, and thereby defeats his purpose. Sometimes we, in our feeling of responsibility, trust too little to the better instincts of childhood, the influence of good surroundings, and the leavening power of all good work in the regular course of instruction.
For the purpose of moral instruction in the schools we should take the broad view of the Greek ethics. As summed up by Professor Green the Good Will aims (1) to know what is true and create what is beautiful; (2) to endure pain and fear; (3) to resist the allurements of false pleasure; (4) to take for one’s self and to give to others, not what one is inclined to, but what is due. This is larger than the conventional moral code. It makes virtues not only of justice and temperance, but of courage and wisdom. By implication it condemns cowardice and lazy ignorance. It urges one to strive for the realization of all his best possibilities, to enlarge his powers, his usefulness, and aim at the gradual perfection of his being through the worthy use of all his energies. It does not dwell morbidly on petty distinctions of casuistry, but generously expands the soul to receive wisdom, the wisdom that regards all good.
We are creatures of numerous native impulses, all useful in their proper exercise. Each impulse is susceptible of growth until it becomes predominant. The lower animals follow their instincts. Man is rational, has the power to discriminate, to estimate right and wrong, to educate and be educated. He is called upon to subordinate some impulses and to cultivate others. The child is full of power of action, and it must be exercised in some direction. The work of the teacher is to invite the native impulses that reach out toward right and useful things, by offering the proper objects for their exercise. When these tendencies of the child’s being are encouraged, his growth will be ethical.
What is the relation of the doctrine of duty to the practical subject in hand? This is a question that rests upon the broad foundation of philosophy and religion, and we cannot discuss the grounds of belief. We may believe that the sense of duty is indispensable to moral character. True, much has been done in the name of duty that has been harmful and repellent. Many things have been thought to be duty that would rule healthful spontaneity and cheerfulness and needful recreation out of life, and place the child under a solemn restraint that rests on his spirit like an incubus and drives him to rebellion and sin. We do not mean duty in this caricature of the reality. But this is a world in which the highest good is to be obtained by courage to overcome evil and difficulty. The great Fichte said: “I have found out now that man’s will is free, and that not happiness, but worthiness is the end of our being.” And Professor Royce in the same vein says: “The spiritual life isn’t a gentle or an easy thing.... Spirituality consists in being heroic enough to accept the tragedy of existence, and to glory in the strength wherewith it is given to the true lords of life to conquer this tragedy, and to make their world, after all, divine.” In the name of evolution and physiological psychology much good has been done in driving to the realm of darkness, whence it emanated, the spirit of harshness and cruelty in education and in discipline; at the same time much harm has been done by superficial interpreters by the attempt to make all education and training a pleasure. The highest good cannot be gained without struggle. Character cannot be formed without struggle. You and I would give nothing for acquisitions that have cost us nothing. While the child’s will is to be invited in the right direction by every worthy motive that tends to make the path pleasant, the child at the same time should know by daily experience that some things must be because they are right, because they are part of his duty; that they may be at first disagreeable and require stern effort. Only then will he be prepared to resist temptation, and to actively pursue a course that will lead toward the perfection of his being and toward a life of usefulness. Along the paths of pleasure are the wrecks of innumerable lives, and this view is one of the greatest practical importance in the every-day work of the schoolroom.
All proper education is ethical education. How the teacher encourages the acquisition of truth! With what care he corrects error in experiment and inference! With what zeal he leads the pupil to further knowledge! With what feeling he points out beauty in natural forms and in literary art! With what hope he encourages him to overcome difficulties! With what solicitude he regards his ways and his choice of company! What use he makes of every opportunity to emphasize a lesson of justice in this little society of children, which is in many ways a type of the larger society into which the child is to enter! If teachers are learned and skilful, and of strong character, if they awaken interest in studies and not disgust, if they have insight into the moral order of the world as revealed in all departments of learning, the whole curriculum of study, from the kindergarten to the university, will be a disclosure of ethical conceptions, a practice of right activity, an encouragement of right aim. If the better tendencies of the child’s nature are repelled instead of invited, in so far will instruction lack the ethical element. And herein lies the great responsibility of the teacher for his own education, methods, and personal influence.
What are the schools doing for moral training? We believe they are doing much that is satisfactory and encouraging. The public schools have at their command the various ethical forces. They form right habits by every-day requirements of the schoolroom; they provide the personal influence of teachers whose good character is the first passport to their position; they employ the lessons of history and literature, and in distinct ways impart principles of right conduct; they inspire courage to overcome difficulties; they direct the better impulses of children toward discovery in the great world of truth, and, by the very exercise of power required in the process of education, prepare them for life.
CAN VIRTUE BE TAUGHT?
On a certain occasion Socrates assumed the rôle of listener, while Protagoras discoursed upon the theme “Can Virtue Be Taught?” Protagoras shows that there are some essential qualities which, regardless of specific calling, should be common to all men, such as justice, temperance, and holiness—in a word, manly virtue. He holds it absurd and contrary to experience to assume that virtue cannot be taught. He says that, in fact, “Education and admonition commence in the first years of childhood, and last to the very end of life.” Mother and nurse, and father and tutor ceaselessly set forth to the child what is just or unjust, honorable or dishonorable, holy or unholy; the teachers look to his manners, and later put in his hands the works of the great poets, full of moral examples and teachings; the instructor of the lyre imparts harmony and rhythm; the master of gymnastics trains the body to be minister to the virtuous mind; and when the pupil has completed his work with the instructors, the state compels him to learn the laws, and live after the pattern which they furnish. “Cease to wonder, Socrates, whether virtue can be taught.”