{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_25172/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_25172","id":"gutenberg_25172","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25172","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Teaching & Education","Moral education","Philosophy"],"text":"Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\nRiverside Educational Monographs\n\nEDITED BY HENRY SUZZALLO\n\nSOMETIME PROFESSOR OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION TEACHERS COLLEGE,\nCOLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, AND PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON\n\n\n\n\nMORAL PRINCIPLES IN EDUCATION\n\nBY\n\nJOHN DEWEY\n\n\nPROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY\n\n\nHOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY\n\nBOSTON . NEW YORK . CHICAGO . DALLAS . SAN FRANCISCO\n\nThe Riverside Press Cambridge\n\n\n\n\nCOPYRIGHT, 1909, BY JOHN DEWEY\n\nALL RIGHTS RESERVED\n\nThe author has drawn freely upon his essay on _Ethical Principles\nUnderlying Education_, published in the Third Year-Book of The National\nHerbart Society for the Study of Education. He is indebted to the\nSociety for permission to use this material.\n\nThe Riverside Press\nCAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS\nPRINTED IN THE U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n       INTRODUCTION\n    I. THE MORAL PURPOSE OF THE SCHOOL\n   II. THE MORAL TRAINING GIVEN BY THE SCHOOL COMMUNITY\n  III. THE MORAL TRAINING FROM METHODS OF INSTRUCTION\n   IV. THE SOCIAL NATURE OF THE COURSE OF STUDY\n    V. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ASPECT OF MORAL EDUCATION\n       OUTLINE\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\n_Education as a public business_\n\nIt is one of the complaints of the schoolmaster that the public does not\ndefer to his professional opinion as completely as it does to that of\npractitioners in other professions. At first sight it might seem as\nthough this indicated a defect either in the public or in the\nprofession; and yet a wider view of the situation would suggest that\nsuch a conclusion is not a necessary one. The relations of education to\nthe public are different from those of any other professional work.\nEducation is a public business with us, in a sense that the protection\nand restoration of personal health or legal rights are not. To an extent\ncharacteristic of no other institution, save that of the state itself,\nthe school has power to modify the social order. And under our political\nsystem, it is the right of each individual to have a voice in the making\nof social policies as, indeed, he has a vote in the determination of\npolitical affairs. If this be true, education is primarily a public\nbusiness, and only secondarily a specialized vocation. The layman, then,\nwill always have his right to some utterance on the operation of the\npublic schools.\n\n\n_Education as expert service_\n\nI have said \"some utterance,\" but not \"all\"; for school-mastering has\nits own special mysteries, its own knowledge and skill into which the\nuntrained layman cannot penetrate. We are just beginning to recognize\nthat the school and the government have a common problem in this\nrespect. Education and politics are two functions fundamentally\ncontrolled by public opinion. Yet the conspicuous lack of efficiency and\neconomy in the school and in the state has quickened our recognition of\na larger need for expert service. But just where shall public opinion\njustly express itself, and what shall properly be left to expert\njudgment?\n\n\n_The relations of expert opinion and public opinion_\n\nIn so far as broad policies and ultimate ends affecting the welfare of\nall are to be determined, the public may well claim its right to settle\nissues by the vote or voice of majorities. But the selection and\nprosecution of the detailed ways and means by which the public will is\nto be executed efficiently must remain largely a matter of specialized\nand expert service. To the superior knowledge and technique required\nhere, the public may well defer.\n\nIn the conduct of the schools, it is well for the citizens to determine\nthe ends proper to them, and it is their privilege to judge of the\nefficacy of results. Upon questions that concern all the manifold\ndetails by which children are to be converted into desirable types of\nmen and women, the expert schoolmaster should be authoritative, at least\nto a degree commensurate with his superior knowledge of this very\ncomplex problem. The administration of the schools, the making of the\ncourse of study, the selection of texts, the prescription of methods of\nteaching, these are matters with which the people, or their\nrepresentatives upon boards of education, cannot deal save with danger\nof becoming mere meddlers.\n\n\n_The discussion of moral education an illustration of mistaken views of\nlaymen_\n\nNowhere is the validity of this distinction between education as a\npublic business and education as an expert professional service brought\nout more clearly than in an analysis of the public discussion of the\nmoral work of the school. How frequently of late have those unacquainted\nwith the special nature of the school proclaimed the moral ends of\neducation and at the same time demanded direct ethical instruction as\nthe particular method by which they were to be realized! This, too, in\nspite of the fact that those who know best the powers and limitations of\ninstruction as an instrument have repeatedly pointed out the futility of\nassuming that knowledge of right constitutes a guarantee of right doing.\nHow common it is for those who assert that education is for social\nefficiency to assume that the school should return to the barren\ndiscipline of the traditional formal subjects, reading, writing, and the\nrest! This, too, regardless of the fact that it has taken a century of\neducational evolution to make the course of study varied and rich enough\nto call for those impulses and activities of social life which need\ntraining in the child. And how many who speak glowingly of the large\nservices of the public schools to a democracy of free and self-reliant\nmen affect a cynical and even vehement opposition to the\n\"self-government of schools\"! These would not have the children learn to\ngovern themselves and one another, but would have the masters rule them,\nignoring the fact that this common practice in childhood may be a\nfoundation for that evil condition in adult society where the citizens\nare arbitrarily ruled by political bosses.\n\nOne need not cite further cases of the incompetence of the lay public to\ndeal with technical questions of school methods. Instances are plentiful\nto show that well-meaning people, competent enough to judge of the aims\nand results of school work, make a mistake in insisting upon the\nprerogative of directing the technical aspects of education with a\ndogmatism that would not characterize their statements regarding any\nother special field of knowledge or action.\n\n\n_A fundamental understanding of moral principles in education_\n\nNothing can be more useful than for the public and the teaching\nprofession to understand their respective functions. The teacher needs\nto understand public opinion and the social order, as much as the public\nneeds to comprehend the nature of expert educational service. It will\ntake time to draw the boundary lines that will be conducive to respect,\nrestraint, and efficiency in those concerned; but a beginning can be\nmade upon fundamental matters, and nothing so touches the foundations of\nour educational thought as a discussion of the moral principles in\neducation.\n\nIt is our pleasure to present a treatment of them by a thinker whose\nvital influence upon the reform of school methods is greater than that\nof any of his contemporaries. In his discussion of the social and\npsychological factors in moral education, there is much that will\nsuggest what social opinion should determine, and much that will\nindicate what must be left to the trained teacher and school official.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MORAL PURPOSE OF THE SCHOOL\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE MORAL PURPOSE OF THE SCHOOL\n\n\nAn English contemporary philosopher has called attention to the\ndifference between moral ideas and ideas about morality. \"Moral ideas\"\nare ideas of any sort whatsoever which take effect in conduct and\nimprove it, make it better than it otherwise would be. Similarly, one\nmay say, immoral ideas are ideas of whatever sort (whether arithmetical\nor geographical or physiological) which show themselves in making\nbehavior worse than it would otherwise be; and non-moral ideas, one may\nsay, are such ideas and pieces of information as leave conduct\nuninfluenced for either the better or the worse. Now \"ideas about\nmorality\" may be morally indifferent or immoral or moral. There is\nnothing in the nature of ideas _about_ morality, of information _about_\nhonesty or purity or kindness which automatically transmutes such ideas\ninto good character or good conduct.\n\nThis distinction between moral ideas, ideas of any sort whatsoever that\nhave become a part of character and hence a part of the working motives\nof behavior, and ideas _about_ moral action that may remain as inert and\nineffective as if they were so much knowledge about Egyptian archaeology,\nis fundamental to the discussion of moral education. The business of the\neducator--whether parent or teacher--is to see to it that the greatest\npossible number of ideas acquired by children and youth are acquired in\nsuch a vital way that they become _moving_ ideas, motive-forces in the\nguidance of conduct. This demand and this opportunity make the moral\npurpose universal and dominant in all instruction--whatsoever the topic.\nWere it not for this possibility, the familiar statement that the\nultimate purpose of all education is character-forming would be\nhypocritical pretense; for as every one knows, the direct and immediate\nattention of teachers and pupils must be, for the greater part of the\ntime, upon intellectual matters. It is out of the question to keep\ndirect moral considerations constantly uppermost. But it is not out of\nthe question to aim at making the methods of learning, of acquiring\nintellectual power, and of assimilating subject-matter, such that they\nwill render behavior more enlightened, more consistent, more vigorous\nthan it otherwise would be.\n\nThe same distinction between \"moral ideas\" and \"ideas about morality\"\nexplains for us a source of continual misunderstanding between teachers\nin the schools and critics of education outside of the schools. The\nlatter look through the school programmes, the school courses of study,\nand do not find any place set apart for instruction in ethics or for\n\"moral teaching.\" Then they assert that the schools are doing nothing,\nor next to nothing, for character-training; they become emphatic, even\nvehement, about the moral deficiencies of public education. The\nschoolteachers, on the other hand, resent these criticisms as an\ninjustice, and hold not only that they do \"teach morals,\" but that they\nteach them every moment of the day, five days in the week. In this\ncontention the teachers _in principle_ are in the right; if they are in\nthe wrong, it is not because special periods are not set aside for what\nafter all can only be teaching _about_ morals, but because their own\ncharacters, or their school atmosphere and ideals, or their methods of\nteaching, or the subject-matter which they teach, are not such _in\ndetail_ as to bring intellectual results into vital union with character\nso that they become working forces in behavior. Without discussing,\ntherefore, the limits or the value of so-called direct moral instruction\n(or, better, instruction _about_ morals), it may be laid down as\nfundamental that the influence of direct moral instruction, even at its\nvery best, is _comparatively_ small in amount and slight in influence,\nwhen the whole field of moral growth through education is taken into\naccount. This larger field of indirect and vital moral education, the\ndevelopment of character through all the agencies, instrumentalities,\nand materials of school life is, therefore, the subject of our present\ndiscussion.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MORAL TRAINING GIVEN BY THE SCHOOL COMMUNITY\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE MORAL TRAINING GIVEN BY THE SCHOOL COMMUNITY\n\n\nThere cannot be two sets of ethical principles, one for life in the\nschool, and the other for life outside of the school. As conduct is one,\nso also the principles of conduct are one. The tendency to discuss the\nmorals of the school as if the school were an institution by itself is\nhighly unfortunate. The moral responsibility of the school, and of those\nwho conduct it, is to society. The school is fundamentally an\ninstitution erected by society to do a certain specific work,--to\nexercise a certain specific function in maintaining the life and\nadvancing the welfare of society. The educational system which does not\nrecognize that this fact entails upon it an ethical responsibility is\nderelict and a defaulter. It is not doing what it was called into\nexistence to do, and what it pretends to do. Hence the entire structure\nof the school in general and its concrete workings in particular need to\nbe considered from time to time with reference to the social position\nand function of the school.\n\nThe idea that the moral work and worth of the public school system as a\nwhole are to be measured by its social value is, indeed, a familiar\nnotion. However, it is frequently taken in too limited and rigid a way.\nThe social work of the school is often limited to training for\ncitizenship, and citizenship is then interpreted in a narrow sense as\nmeaning capacity to vote intelligently, disposition to obey laws, etc.\nBut it is futile to contract and cramp the ethical responsibility of the\nschool in this way. The child is one, and he must either live his social\nlife as an integral unified being, or suffer loss and create friction.\nTo pick out one of the many social relations which the child bears, and\nto define the work of the school by that alone, is like instituting a\nvast and complicated system of physical exercise which would have for\nits object simply the development of the lungs and the power of\nbreathing, independent of other organs and functions. The child is an\norganic whole, intellectually, socially, and morally, as well as\nphysically. We must take the child as a member of society in the\nbroadest sense, and demand for and from the schools whatever is\nnecessary to enable the child intelligently to recognize all his social\nrelations and take his part in sustaining them.\n\nTo isolate the formal relationship of citizenship from the whole system\nof relations with which it is actually interwoven; to suppose that there\nis some one particular study or mode of treatment which can make the\nchild a good citizen; to suppose, in other words, that a good citizen is\nanything more than a thoroughly efficient and serviceable member of\nsociety, one with all his powers of body and mind under control, is a\nhampering superstition which it is hoped may soon disappear from\neducational discussion.\n\nThe child is to be not only a voter and a subject of law; he is also to\nbe a member of a family, himself in turn responsible, in all\nprobability, for rearing and training of future children, thereby\nmaintaining the continuity of society. He is to be a worker, engaged in\nsome occupation which will be of use to society, and which will maintain\nhis own independence and self-respect. He is to be a member of some\nparticular neighborhood and community, and must contribute to the values\nof life, add to the decencies and graces of civilization wherever he is.\nThese are bare and formal statements, but if we let our imagination\ntranslate them into their concrete details, we have a wide and varied\nscene. For the child properly to take his place in reference to these\nvarious functions means training in science, in art, in history; means\ncommand of the fundamental methods of inquiry and the fundamental tools\nof intercourse and communication; means a trained and sound body,\nskillful eye and hand; means habits of industry, perseverance; in short,\nhabits of serviceableness.\n\nMoreover, the society of which the child is to be a member is, in the\nUnited States, a democratic and progressive society. The child must be\neducated for leadership as well as for obedience. He must have power of\nself-direction and power of directing others, power of administration,\nability to assume positions of responsibility. This necessity of\neducating for leadership is as great on the industrial as on the\npolitical side.\n\nNew inventions, new machines, new methods of transportation and\nintercourse are making over the whole scene of action year by year. It\nis an absolute impossibility to educate the child for any fixed station\nin life. So far as education is conducted unconsciously or consciously\non this basis, it results in fitting the future citizen for no station\nin life, but makes him a drone, a hanger-on, or an actual retarding\ninfluence in the onward movement. Instead of caring for himself and for\nothers, he becomes one who has himself to be cared for. Here, too, the\nethical responsibility of the school on the social side must be\ninterpreted in the broadest and freest spirit; it is equivalent to that\ntraining of the child which will give him such possession of himself\nthat he may take charge of himself; may not only adapt himself to the\nchanges that are going on, but have power to shape and direct them.\n\nApart from participation in social life, the school has no moral end nor\naim. As long as we confine ourselves to the school as an isolated\ninstitution, we have no directing principles, because we have no object.\nFor example, the end of education is said to be the harmonious\ndevelopment of all the powers of the individual. Here no reference to\nsocial life or membership is apparent, and yet many think we have in it\nan adequate and thoroughgoing definition of the goal of education. But\nif this definition be taken independently of social relationship we have\nno way of telling what is meant by any one of the terms employed. We do\nnot know what a power is; we do not know what development is; we do not\nknow what harmony is. A power is a power only with reference to the use\nto which it is put, the function it has to serve. If we leave out the\nuses supplied by social life we have nothing but the old \"faculty\npsychology\" to tell what is meant by power and what the specific powers\nare. The principle reduces itself to enumerating a lot of faculties like\nperception, memory, reasoning, etc., and then stating that each one of\nthese powers needs to be developed.\n\nEducation then becomes a gymnastic exercise. Acute powers of observation\nand memory might be developed by studying Chinese characters; acuteness\nin reasoning might be got by discussing the scholastic subtleties of the\nMiddle Ages. The simple fact is that there is no isolated faculty of\nobservation, or memory, or reasoning any more than there is an original\nfaculty of blacksmithing, carpentering, or steam engineering. Faculties\nmean simply that particular impulses and habits have been coordinated or\nframed with reference to accomplishing certain definite kinds of work.\nWe need to know the social situations in which the individual will have\nto use ability to observe, recollect, imagine, and reason, in order to\nhave any way of telling what a training of mental powers actually means.\n\nWhat holds in the illustration of this particular definition of\neducation holds good from whatever point of view we approach the matter.\nOnly as we interpret school activities with reference to the larger\ncircle of social activities to which they relate do we find any standard\nfor judging their moral significance.\n\nThe school itself must be a vital social institution to a much greater\nextent than obtains at present. I am told that there is a swimming\nschool in a certain city where youth are taught to swim without going\ninto the water, being repeatedly drilled in the various movements which\nare necessary for swimming. When one of the young men so trained was\nasked what he did when he got into the water, he laconically replied,\n\"Sunk.\" The story happens to be true; were it not, it would seem to be a\nfable made expressly for the purpose of typifying the ethical\nrelationship of school to society. The school cannot be a preparation\nfor social life excepting as it reproduces, within itself, typical\nconditions of social life. At present it is largely engaged in the\nfutile task of Sisyphus. It is endeavoring to form habits in children\nfor use in a social life which, it would almost seem, is carefully and\npurposely kept away from vital contact with the child undergoing\ntraining. The only way to prepare for social life is to engage in social\nlife. To form habits of social usefulness and serviceableness apart from\nany direct social need and motive, apart from any existing social\nsituation, is, to the letter, teaching the child to swim by going\nthrough motions outside of the water. The most indispensable condition\nis left out of account, and the results are correspondingly partial.\n\nThe much lamented separation in the schools of intellectual and moral\ntraining, of acquiring information and growing in character, is simply\none expression of the failure to conceive and construct the school as a\nsocial institution, having social life and value within itself. Except\nso far as the school is an embryonic typical community life, moral\ntraining must be partly pathological and partly formal. Training is\npathological when stress is laid upon correcting wrong-doing instead of\nupon forming habits of positive service. Too often the teacher's concern\nwith the moral life of pupils takes the form of alertness for failures\nto conform to school rules and routine. These regulations, judged from\nthe standpoint of the development of the child at the time, are more or\nless conventional and arbitrary. They are rules which have to be made in\norder that the existing modes of school work may go on; but the lack of\ninherent necessity in these school modes reflects itself in a feeling,\non the part of the child, that the moral discipline of the school is\narbitrary. Any conditions that compel the teacher to take note of\nfailures rather than of healthy growth give false standards and result\nin distortion and perversion. Attending to wrong-doing ought to be an\nincident rather than a principle. The child ought to have a positive\nconsciousness of what he is about, so as to judge his acts from the\nstandpoint of reference to the work which he has to do. Only in this way\ndoes he have a vital standard, one that enables him to turn failures to\naccount for the future.\n\nBy saying that the moral training of the school is formal, I mean that\nthe moral habits currently emphasized by the school are habits which are\ncreated, as it were, _ad hoc_. Even the habits of promptness,\nregularity, industry, non-interference with the work of others,\nfaithfulness to tasks imposed, which are specially inculcated in the\nschool, are habits that are necessary simply because the school system\nis what it is, and must be preserved intact. If we grant the\ninviolability of the school system as it is, these habits represent\npermanent and necessary moral ideas; but just in so far as the school\nsystem is itself isolated and mechanical, insistence upon these moral\nhabits is more or less unreal, because the ideal to which they relate is\nnot itself necessary. The duties, in other words, are distinctly school\nduties, not life duties. If we compare this condition with that of the\nwell-ordered home, we find that the duties and responsibilities that the\nchild has there to recognize do not belong to the family as a\nspecialized and isolated institution, but flow from the very nature of\nthe social life in which the family participates and to which it\ncontributes. The child ought to have the same motives for right doing\nand to be judged by the same standards in the school, as the adult in\nthe wider social life to which he belongs. Interest in community\nwelfare, an interest that is intellectual and practical, as well as\nemotional--an interest, that is to say, in perceiving whatever makes for\nsocial order and progress, and in carrying these principles into\nexecution--is the moral habit to which all the special school habits\nmust be related if they are to be animated by the breath of life.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MORAL TRAINING FROM METHODS OF INSTRUCTION\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE MORAL TRAINING FROM METHODS OF INSTRUCTION\n\n\nThe principle of the social character of the school as the basic factor\nin the moral education given may be also applied to the question of\nmethods of instruction,--not in their details, but their general spirit.\nThe emphasis then falls upon construction and giving out, rather than\nupon absorption and mere learning. We fail to recognize how essentially\nindividualistic the latter methods are, and how unconsciously, yet\ncertainly and effectively, they react into the child's ways of judging\nand of acting. Imagine forty children all engaged in reading the same\nbooks, and in preparing and reciting the same lessons day after day.\nSuppose this process constitutes by far the larger part of their work,\nand that they are continually judged from the standpoint of what they\nare able to take in in a study hour and reproduce in a recitation hour.\nThere is next to no opportunity for any social division of labor. There\nis no opportunity for each child to work out something specifically his\nown, which he may contribute to the common stock, while he, in turn,\nparticipates in the productions of others. All are set to do exactly the\nsame work and turn out the same products. The social spirit is not\ncultivated,--in fact, in so far as the purely individualistic method\ngets in its work, it atrophies for lack of use. One reason why reading\naloud in school is poor is that the real motive for the use of\nlanguage--the desire to communicate and to learn--is not utilized. The\nchild knows perfectly well that the teacher and all his fellow pupils\nhave exactly the same facts and ideas before them that he has; he is not\n_giving_ them anything at all. And it may be questioned whether the\nmoral lack is not as great as the intellectual. The child is born with a\nnatural desire to give out, to do, to serve. When this tendency is not\nused, when conditions are such that other motives are substituted, the\naccumulation of an influence working against the social spirit is much\nlarger than we have any idea of,--especially when the burden of work,\nweek after week, and year after year, falls upon this side.\n\nBut lack of cultivation of the social spirit is not all. Positively\nindividualistic motives and standards are inculcated. Some stimulus must\nbe found to keep the child at his studies. At the best this will be his\naffection for his teacher, together with a feeling that he is not\nviolating school rules, and thus negatively, if not positively, is\ncontributing to the good of the school. I have nothing to say against\nthese motives so far as they go, but they are inadequate. The relation\nbetween the piece of work to be done and affection for a third person is\nexternal, not intrinsic. It is therefore liable to break down whenever\nthe external conditions are changed. Moreover, this attachment to a\nparticular person, while in a way social, may become so isolated and\nexclusive as to be selfish in quality. In any case, the child should\ngradually grow out of this relatively external motive into an\nappreciation, for its own sake, of the social value of what he has to\ndo, because of its larger relations to life, not pinned down to two or\nthree persons.\n\nBut, unfortunately, the motive is not always at this relative best, but\nmixed with lower motives which are distinctly egoistic. Fear is a motive\nwhich is almost sure to enter in,--not necessarily physical fear, or\nfear of punishment, but fear of losing the approbation of others; or\nfear of failure, so extreme as to be morbid and paralyzing. On the other\nside, emulation and rivalry enter in. Just because all are doing the\nsame work, and are judged (either in recitation or examination with\nreference to grading and to promotion) not from the standpoint of their\npersonal contribution, but from that of _comparative_ success, the\nfeeling of superiority over others is unduly appealed to, while timid\nchildren are depressed. Children are judged with reference to their\ncapacity to realize the same external standard. The weaker gradually\nlose their sense of power, and accept a position of continuous and\npersistent inferiority. The effect upon both self-respect and respect\nfor work need not be dwelt upon. The strong learn to glory, not in their\nstrength, but in the fact that they are stronger. The child is\nprematurely launched into the region of individualistic competition, and\nthis in a direction where competition is least applicable, namely, in\nintellectual and artistic matters, whose law is cooperation and\nparticipation.\n\nNext, perhaps, to the evils of passive absorption and of competition for\nexternal standing come, perhaps, those which result from the eternal\nemphasis upon preparation for a remote future. I do not refer here to\nthe waste of energy and vitality that accrues when children, who live so\nlargely in the immediate present, are appealed to in the name of a dim\nand uncertain future which means little or nothing to them. I have in\nmind rather the habitual procrastination that develops when the motive\nfor work is future, not present; and the false standards of judgment\nthat are created when work is estimated, not on the basis of present\nneed and present responsibility, but by reference to an external result,\nlike passing an examination, getting promoted, entering high school,\ngetting into college, etc. Who can reckon up the loss of moral power\nthat arises from the constant impression that nothing is worth doing in\nitself, but only as a preparation for something else, which in turn is\nonly a getting ready for some genuinely serious end beyond? Moreover, as\na rule, it will be found that remote success is an end which appeals\nmost to those in whom egoistic desire to get ahead--to get ahead of\nothers--is already only too strong a motive. Those in whom personal\nambition is already so strong that it paints glowing pictures of future\nvictories may be touched; others of a more generous nature do not\nrespond.\n\nI cannot stop to paint the other side. I can only say that the\nintroduction of every method that appeals to the child's active powers,\nto his capacities in construction, production, and creation, marks an\nopportunity to shift the centre of ethical gravity from an absorption\nwhich is selfish to a service which is social. Manual training is more\nthan manual; it is more than intellectual; in the hands of any good\nteacher it lends itself easily, and almost as a matter of course, to\ndevelopment of social habits. Ever since the philosophy of Kant, it has\nbeen a commonplace of aesthetic theory, that art is universal; that it is\nnot the product of purely personal desire or appetite, or capable of\nmerely individual appropriation, but has a value participated in by all\nwho perceive it. Even in the schools where most conscious attention is\npaid to moral considerations, the methods of study and recitation may be\nsuch as to emphasize appreciation rather than power, an emotional\nreadiness to assimilate the experiences of others, rather than\nenlightened and trained capacity to carry forward those values which in\nother conditions and past times made those experiences worth having. At\nall events, separation between instruction and character continues in\nour schools (in spite of the efforts of individual teachers) as a result\nof divorce between learning and doing. The attempt to attach genuine\nmoral effectiveness to the mere processes of learning, and to the habits\nwhich go along with learning, can result only in a training infected\nwith formality, arbitrariness, and an undue emphasis upon failure to\nconform. That there is as much accomplished as there is shows the\npossibilities involved in methods of school activity which afford\nopportunity for reciprocity, cooperation, and positive personal\nachievement.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SOCIAL NATURE OF THE COURSE OF STUDY\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nTHE SOCIAL NATURE OF THE COURSE OF STUDY\n\n\nIn many respects, it is the subject-matter used in school life which\ndecides both the general atmosphere of the school and the methods of\ninstruction and discipline which rule. A barren \"course of study,\" that\nis to say, a meagre and narrow field of school activities, cannot\npossibly lend itself to the development of a vital social spirit or to\nmethods that appeal to sympathy and cooperation instead of to\nabsorption, exclusiveness, and competition. Hence it becomes an all\nimportant matter to know how we shall apply our social standard of moral\nvalue to the subject-matter of school work, to what we call,\ntraditionally, the \"studies\" that occupy pupils.\n\n_A study is to be considered as a means of bringing the child to realize\nthe social scene of action._ Thus considered it gives a criterion for\nselection of material and for judgment of values. We have at present\nthree independent values set up: one of culture, another of information,\nand another of discipline. In reality, these refer only to three phases\nof social interpretation. Information is genuine or educative only in so\nfar as it presents definite images and conceptions of materials placed\nin a context of social life. Discipline is genuinely educative only as\nit represents a reaction of information into the individual's own powers\nso that he brings them under control for social ends. Culture, if it is\nto be genuinely educative and not an external polish or factitious\nvarnish, represents the vital union of information and discipline. It\nmarks the socialization of the individual in his outlook upon life.\n\nThis point may be illustrated by brief reference to a few of the school\nstudies. In the first place, there is no line of demarkation within\nfacts themselves which classifies them as belonging to science, history,\nor geography, respectively. The pigeon-hole classification which is so\nprevalent at present (fostered by introducing the pupil at the outset\ninto a number of different studies contained in different text-books)\ngives an utterly erroneous idea of the relations of studies to one\nanother and to the intellectual whole to which all belong. In fact,\nthese subjects have to do with the same ultimate reality, namely, the\nconscious experience of man. It is only because we have different\ninterests, or different ends, that we sort out the material and label\npart of it science, part of it history, part geography, and so on. Each\n\"sorting\" represents materials arranged with reference to some one\ndominant typical aim or process of the social life.\n\nThis social criterion is necessary, not only to mark off studies from\none another, but also to grasp the reasons for each study,--the motives\nin connection with which it shall be presented. How, for example, should\nwe define geography? What is the unity in the different so-called\ndivisions of geography,--mathematical geography, physical geography,\npolitical geography, commercial geography? Are they purely empirical\nclassifications dependent upon the brute fact that we run across a lot\nof different facts? Or is there some intrinsic principle through which\nthe material is distributed under these various heads,--something in the\ninterest and attitude of the human mind towards them? I should say that\ngeography has to do with all those aspects of social life which are\nconcerned with the interaction of the life of man and nature; or, that\nit has to do with the world considered as the scene of social\ninteraction. Any fact, then, will be geographical in so far as it has to\ndo with the dependence of man upon his natural environment, or with\nchanges introduced in this environment through the life of man.\n\nThe four forms of geography referred to above represent, then, four\nincreasing stages of abstraction in discussing the mutual relation of\nhuman life and nature. The beginning must be social geography, the frank\nrecognition of the earth as the home of men acting in relations to one\nanother. I mean by this that the essence of any geographical fact is the\nconsciousness of two persons, or two groups of persons, who are at once\nseparated and connected by their physical environment, and that the\ninterest is in seeing how these people are at once kept apart and\nbrought together in their actions by the instrumentality of the physical\nenvironment. The ultimate significance of lake, river, mountain, and\nplain is not physical but social; it is the part which it plays in\nmodifying and directing human relationships. This evidently involves an\nextension of the term commercial. It has to do not simply with business,\nin the narrow sense, but with whatever relates to human intercourse and\nintercommunication as affected by natural forms and properties.\nPolitical geography represents this same social interaction taken in a\nstatic instead of in a dynamic way; taken, that is, as temporarily\ncrystallized and fixed in certain forms. Physical geography (including\nunder this not simply physiography, but also the study of flora and\nfauna) represents a further analysis or abstraction. It studies the\nconditions which determine human action, leaving out of account,\ntemporarily, the ways in which they concretely do this. Mathematical\ngeography carries the analysis back to more ultimate and remote\nconditions, showing that the physical conditions of the earth are not\nultimate, but depend upon the place which the world occupies in a larger\nsystem. Here, in other words, are traced, step by step, the links which\nconnect the immediate social occupations and groupings of men with the\nwhole natural system which ultimately conditions them. Step by step the\nscene is enlarged and the image of what enters into the make-up of\nsocial action is widened and broadened; at no time is the chain of\nconnection to be broken.\n\nIt is out of the question to take up the studies one by one and show\nthat their meaning is similarly controlled by social considerations. But\nI cannot forbear saying a word or two upon history. History is vital or\ndead to the child according as it is, or is not, presented from the\nsociological standpoint. When treated simply as a record of what has\npassed and gone, it must be mechanical, because the past, as the past,\nis remote. Simply as the past there is no motive for attending to it.\nThe ethical value of history teaching will be measured by the extent to\nwhich past events are made the means of understanding the\npresent,--affording insight into what makes up the structure and working\nof society to-day. Existing social structure is exceedingly complex. It\nis practically impossible for the child to attack it _en masse_ and get\nany definite mental image of it. But type phases of historical\ndevelopment may be selected which will exhibit, as through a telescope,\nthe essential constituents of the existing order. Greece, for example,\nrepresents what art and growing power of individual expression stand\nfor; Rome exhibits the elements and forces of political life on a\ntremendous scale. Or, as these civilizations are themselves relatively\ncomplex, a study of still simpler forms of hunting, nomadic, and\nagricultural life in the beginnings of civilization, a study of the\neffects of the introduction of iron, and iron tools, reduces the\ncomplexity to simpler elements.\n\nOne reason historical teaching is usually not more effective is that the\nstudent is set to acquire information in such a way that no epochs or\nfactors stand out in his mind as typical; everything is reduced to the\nsame dead level. The way to secure the necessary perspective is to treat\nthe past as if it were a projected present with some of its elements\nenlarged.\n\nThe principle of contrast is as important as that of similarity. Because\nthe present life is so close to us, touching us at every point, we\ncannot get away from it to see it as it really is. Nothing stands out\nclearly or sharply as characteristic. In the study of past periods,\nattention necessarily attaches itself to striking differences. Thus the\nchild gets a locus of imagination, through which he can remove himself\nfrom the pressure of present surrounding circumstances and define them.\n\nHistory is equally available in teaching the _methods_ of social\nprogress. It is commonly stated that history must be studied from the\nstandpoint of cause and effect. The truth of this statement depends upon\nits interpretation. Social life is so complex and the various parts of\nit are so organically related to one another and to the natural\nenvironment, that it is impossible to say that this or that thing is the\ncause of some other particular thing. But the study of history can\nreveal the main instruments in the discoveries, inventions, new modes of\nlife, etc., which have initiated the great epochs of social advance; and\nit can present to the child types of the main lines of social progress,\nand can set before him what have been the chief difficulties and\nobstructions in the way of progress. Once more this can be done only in\nso far as it is recognized that social forces in themselves are always\nthe same,--that the same kind of influences were at work one hundred and\none thousand years ago that are now working,--and that particular\nhistorical epochs afford illustration of the way in which the\nfundamental forces work.\n\nEverything depends, then, upon history being treated from a social\nstandpoint; as manifesting the agencies which have influenced social\ndevelopment and as presenting the typical institutions in which social\nlife has expressed itself. The culture-epoch theory, while working in\nthe right direction, has failed to recognize the importance of treating\npast periods with relation to the present,--as affording insight into\nthe representative factors of its structure; it has treated these\nperiods too much as if they had some meaning or value in themselves. The\nway in which the biographical method is handled illustrates the same\npoint. It is often treated in such a way as to exclude from the child's\nconsciousness (or at least not sufficiently to emphasize) the social\nforces and principles involved in the association of the masses of men.\nIt is quite true that the child is easily interested in history from the\nbiographical standpoint; but unless \"the hero\" is treated in relation to\nthe community life behind him that he sums up and directs, there is\ndanger that history will reduce itself to a mere exciting story. Then\nmoral instruction reduces itself to drawing certain lessons from the\nlife of the particular personalities concerned, instead of widening and\ndeepening the child's imagination of social relations, ideals, and\nmeans.\n\nIt will be remembered that I am not making these points for their own\nsake, but with reference to the general principle that when a study is\ntaught as a mode of understanding social life it has positive ethical\nimport. What the normal child continuously needs is not so much isolated\nmoral lessons upon the importance of truthfulness and honesty, or the\nbeneficent results that follow from a particular act of patriotism, as\nthe formation of habits of social imagination and conception.\n\nI take one more illustration, namely, mathematics. This does, or does\nnot, accomplish its full purpose according as it is, or is not,\npresented as a social tool. The prevailing divorce between information\nand character, between knowledge and social action, stalks upon the\nscene here. The moment mathematical study is severed from the place\nwhich it occupies with reference to use in social life, it becomes\nunduly abstract, even upon the purely intellectual side. It is presented\nas a matter of technical relations and formulae apart from any end or\nuse. What the study of number suffers from in elementary education is\nlack of motivation. Back of this and that and the other particular bad\nmethod is the radical mistake of treating number as if it were an end in\nitself, instead of the means of accomplishing some end. Let the child\nget a consciousness of what is the use of number, of what it really is\nfor, and half the battle is won. Now this consciousness of the use of\nreason implies some end which is implicitly social.\n\nOne of the absurd things in the more advanced study of arithmetic is the\nextent to which the child is introduced to numerical operations which\nhave no distinctive mathematical principles characterizing them, but\nwhich represent certain general principles found in business\nrelationships. To train the child in these operations, while paying no\nattention to the business realities in which they are of use, or to the\nconditions of social life which make these business activities\nnecessary, is neither arithmetic nor common sense. The child is called\nupon to do examples in interest, partnership, banking, brokerage, and so\non through a long string, and no pains are taken to see that, in\nconnection with the arithmetic, he has any sense of the social realities\ninvolved. This part of arithmetic is essentially sociological in its\nnature. It ought either to be omitted entirely, or else be taught in\nconnection with a study of the relevant social realities. As we now\nmanage the study, it is the old case of learning to swim apart from the\nwater over again, with correspondingly bad results on the practical\nside.\n\nIn concluding this portion of the discussion, we may say that our\nconceptions of moral education have been too narrow, too formal, and too\npathological. We have associated the term ethical with certain special\nacts which are labeled virtues and are set off from the mass of other\nacts, and are still more divorced from the habitual images and motives\nof the children performing them. Moral instruction is thus associated\nwith teaching about these particular virtues, or with instilling certain\nsentiments in regard to them. The moral has been conceived in too\ngoody-goody a way. Ultimate moral motives and forces are nothing more or\nless than social intelligence--the power of observing and comprehending\nsocial situations,--and social power--trained capacities of control--at\nwork in the service of social interest and aims. There is no fact which\nthrows light upon the constitution of society, there is no power whose\ntraining adds to social resourcefulness that is not moral.\n\nI sum up, then, this part of the discussion by asking your attention to\nthe moral trinity of the school. The demand is for social intelligence,\nsocial power, and social interests. Our resources are (1) the life of\nthe school as a social institution in itself; (2) methods of learning\nand of doing work; and (3) the school studies or curriculum. In so far\nas the school represents, in its own spirit, a genuine community life;\nin so far as what are called school discipline, government, order, etc.,\nare the expressions of this inherent social spirit; in so far as the\nmethods used are those that appeal to the active and constructive\npowers, permitting the child to give out and thus to serve; in so far as\nthe curriculum is so selected and organized as to provide the material\nfor affording the child a consciousness of the world in which he has to\nplay a part, and the demands he has to meet; so far as these ends are\nmet, the school is organized on an ethical basis. So far as general\nprinciples are concerned, all the basic ethical requirements are met.\nThe rest remains between the individual teacher and the individual\nchild.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PSYCHOLOGICAL ASPECT OF MORAL EDUCATION\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nTHE PSYCHOLOGICAL ASPECT OF MORAL EDUCATION\n\n\nSo far we have been considering the make-up of purposes and results that\nconstitute conduct--its \"what.\" But conduct has a certain method and\nspirit also--its \"how.\" Conduct may be looked upon as expressing the\nattitudes and dispositions of an _individual_, as well as realizing\nsocial results and maintaining the social fabric. A consideration of\nconduct as a mode of individual performance, personal doing, takes us\nfrom the social to the psychological side of morals. In the first place,\nall conduct springs ultimately and radically out of native instincts and\nimpulses. We must know what these instincts and impulses are, and what\nthey are at each particular stage of the child's development, in order\nto know what to appeal to and what to build upon. Neglect of this\nprinciple may give a mechanical imitation of moral conduct, but the\nimitation will be ethically dead, because it is external and has its\ncentre without, not within, the individual. We must study the child, in\nother words, to get our indications, our symptoms, our suggestions. The\nmore or less spontaneous acts of the child are not to be thought of as\nsetting moral forms to which the efforts of the educator must\nconform--this would result simply in spoiling the child; but they are\nsymptoms which require to be interpreted: stimuli which need to be\nresponded to in directed ways; material which, in however transformed a\nshape, is the only ultimate constituent of future moral conduct and\ncharacter.\n\nThen, secondly, our ethical principles need to be stated in\npsychological terms because the child supplies us with the only means or\ninstruments by which to realize moral ideals. The subject-matter of the\ncurriculum, however important, however judiciously selected, is empty of\nconclusive moral content until it is made over into terms of the\nindividual's own activities, habits, and desires. We must know what\nhistory, geography, and mathematics mean in psychological terms, that\nis, as modes of personal experiencing, before we can get out of them\ntheir moral potentialities.\n\nThe psychological side of education sums itself up, of course, in a\nconsideration of character. It is a commonplace to say that the\ndevelopment of character is the end of all school work. The difficulty\nlies in the execution of the idea. And an underlying difficulty in this\nexecution is the lack of a clear conception of what character means.\nThis may seem an extreme statement. If so, the idea may be conveyed by\nsaying that we generally conceive of character simply in terms of\nresults; we have no clear conception of it in psychological terms--that\nis, as a process, as working or dynamic. We know what character means in\nterms of the actions which proceed from it, but we have not a definite\nconception of it on its inner side, as a system of working forces.\n\n(1) Force, efficiency in execution, or overt action, is one necessary\nconstituent of character. In our moral books and lectures we may lay the\nstress upon good intentions, etc. But we know practically that the kind\nof character we hope to build up through our education is one that not\nonly has good intentions, but that insists upon carrying them out. Any\nother character is wishy-washy; it is goody, not good. The individual\nmust have the power to stand up and count for something in the actual\nconflicts of life. He must have initiative, insistence, persistence,\ncourage, and industry. He must, in a word, have all that goes under the\nname \"_force_ of character.\" Undoubtedly, individuals differ greatly in\ntheir native endowment in this respect. None the less, each has a\ncertain primary equipment of impulse, of tendency forward, of innate\nurgency to do. The problem of education on this side is that of\ndiscovering what this native fund of power is, and then of utilizing it\nin such a way (affording conditions which both stimulate and control) as\nto organize it into definite conserved modes of action--habits.\n\n(2) But something more is required than sheer force. Sheer force may be\nbrutal; it may override the interests of others. Even when aiming at\nright ends it may go at them in such a way as to violate the rights of\nothers. More than this, in sheer force there is no guarantee for the\nright end. Efficiency may be directed towards mistaken ends and result\nin positive mischief and destruction. Power, as already suggested, must\nbe directed. It must be organized along social channels; it must be\nattached to valuable ends.\n\nThis involves training on both the intellectual and emotional side. On\nthe intellectual side we must have judgment--what is ordinarily called\ngood sense. The difference between mere knowledge, or information, and\njudgment is that the former is simply held, not used; judgment is\nknowledge directed with reference to the accomplishment of ends. Good\njudgment is a sense of respective or proportionate values. The one who\nhas judgment is the one who has ability to size up a situation. He is\nthe one who can grasp the scene or situation before him, ignoring what\nis irrelevant, or what for the time being is unimportant, who can seize\nupon the factors which demand attention, and grade them according to\ntheir respective claims. Mere knowledge of what the right is, in the\nabstract, mere intentions of following the right in general, however\npraiseworthy in themselves, are never a substitute for this power of\ntrained judgment. Action is always in the concrete. It is definite and\nindividualized. Except, therefore, as it is backed and controlled by a\nknowledge of the actual concrete factors in the situation in which it\noccurs, it must be relatively futile and waste.\n\n(3) But the consciousness of ends must be more than merely intellectual.\nWe can imagine a person with most excellent judgment, who yet does not\nact upon his judgment. There must not only be force to ensure effort in\nexecution against obstacles, but there must also be a delicate personal\nresponsiveness,--there must be an emotional reaction. Indeed, good\njudgment is impossible without this susceptibility. Unless there is a\nprompt and almost instinctive sensitiveness to conditions, to the ends\nand interests of others, the intellectual side of judgment will not have\nproper material to work upon. Just as the material of knowledge is\nsupplied through the senses, so the material of ethical knowledge is\nsupplied by emotional responsiveness. It is difficult to put this\nquality into words, but we all know the difference between the character\nwhich is hard and formal, and one which is sympathetic, flexible, and\nopen. In the abstract the former may be as sincerely devoted to moral\nideas as is the latter, but as a practical matter we prefer to live with\nthe latter. We count upon it to accomplish more by tact, by instinctive\nrecognition of the claims of others, by skill in adjusting, than the\nformer can accomplish by mere attachment to rules.\n\nHere, then, is the moral standard, by which to test the work of the\nschool upon the side of what it does directly for individuals. (_a_)\nDoes the school as a system, at present, attach sufficient importance to\nthe spontaneous instincts and impulses? Does it afford sufficient\nopportunity for these to assert themselves and work out their own\nresults? Can we even say that the school in principle attaches itself,\nat present, to the active constructive powers rather than to processes\nof absorption and learning? Does not our talk about self-activity\nlargely render itself meaningless because the self-activity we have in\nmind is purely \"intellectual,\" out of relation to those impulses which\nwork through hand and eye?\n\nJust in so far as the present school methods fail to meet the test of\nsuch questions moral results must be unsatisfactory. We cannot secure\nthe development of positive force of character unless we are willing to\npay its price. We cannot smother and repress the child's powers, or\ngradually abort them (from failure of opportunity for exercise), and\nthen expect a character with initiative and consecutive industry. I am\naware of the importance attaching to inhibition, but mere inhibition is\nvalueless. The only restraint, the only holding-in, that is of any worth\nis that which comes through holding powers concentrated upon a positive\nend. An end cannot be attained excepting as instincts and impulses are\nkept from discharging at random and from running off on side tracks. In\nkeeping powers at work upon their relevant ends, there is sufficient\nopportunity for genuine inhibition. To say that inhibition is higher\nthan power, is like saying that death is more than life, negation more\nthan affirmation, sacrifice more than service.\n\n(_b_) We must also test our school work by finding whether it affords\nthe conditions necessary for the formation of good judgment. Judgment as\nthe sense of relative values involves ability to select, to\ndiscriminate. Acquiring information can never develop the power of\njudgment. Development of judgment is in spite of, not because of,\nmethods of instruction that emphasize simple learning. The test comes\nonly when the information acquired has to be put to use. Will it do what\nwe expect of it? I have heard an educator of large experience say that\nin her judgment the greatest defect of instruction to-day, on the\nintellectual side, is found in the fact that children leave school\nwithout a mental perspective. Facts seem to them all of the same\nimportance. There is no foreground or background. There is no\ninstinctive habit of sorting out facts upon a scale of worth and of\ngrading them.\n\nThe child cannot get power of judgment excepting as he is continually\nexercised in forming and testing judgments. He must have an opportunity\nto select for himself, and to attempt to put his selections into\nexecution, that he may submit them to the final test, that of action.\nOnly thus can he learn to discriminate that which promises success from\nthat which promises failure; only thus can he form the habit of relating\nhis purposes and notions to the conditions that determine their value.\nDoes the school, as a system, afford at present sufficient opportunity\nfor this sort of experimentation? Except so far as the emphasis of the\nschool work is upon intelligent doing, upon active investigation, it\ndoes not furnish the conditions necessary for that exercise of judgment\nwhich is an integral factor in good character.\n\n(_c_) I shall be brief with respect to the other point, the need of\nsusceptibility and responsiveness. The informally social side of\neducation, the aesthetic environment and influences, are all-important.\nIn so far as the work is laid out in regular and formulated ways, so far\nas there are lacking opportunities for casual and free social\nintercourse between pupils and between the pupils and the teacher, this\nside of the child's nature is either starved, or else left to find\nhaphazard expression along more or less secret channels. When the school\nsystem, under plea of the practical (meaning by the practical the\nnarrowly utilitarian), confines the child to the three R's and the\nformal studies connected with them, shuts him out from the vital in\nliterature and history, and deprives him of his right to contact with\nwhat is best in architecture, music, sculpture, and picture, it is\nhopeless to expect definite results in the training of sympathetic\nopenness and responsiveness.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhat we need in education is a genuine faith in the existence of moral\nprinciples which are capable of effective application. We believe, so\nfar as the mass of children are concerned, that if we keep at them long\nenough we can teach reading and writing and figuring. We are\npractically, even if unconsciously, skeptical as to the possibility of\nanything like the same assurance in morals. We believe in moral laws and\nrules, to be sure, but they are in the air. They are something set off\nby themselves. They are so _very_ \"moral\" that they have no working\ncontact with the average affairs of every-day life. These moral\nprinciples need to be brought down to the ground through their statement\nin social and in psychological terms. We need to see that moral\nprinciples are not arbitrary, that they are not \"transcendental\"; that\nthe term \"moral\" does not designate a special region or portion of life.\nWe need to translate the moral into the conditions and forces of our\ncommunity life, and into the impulses and habits of the individual.\n\nAll the rest is mint, anise, and cummin. The one thing needful is that\nwe recognize that moral principles are real in the same sense in which\nother forces are real; that they are inherent in community life, and in\nthe working structure of the individual. If we can secure a genuine\nfaith in this fact, we shall have secured the condition which alone is\nnecessary to get from our educational system all the effectiveness there\nis in it. The teacher who operates in this faith will find every\nsubject, every method of instruction, every incident of school life\npregnant with moral possibility.\n\n\n\n\nOUTLINE\n\n\n  I. THE MORAL PURPOSE OF THE SCHOOL\n    1. Moral ideas and ideas about morality\n    2. Moral education and direct moral instruction\n\n  II. THE MORAL TRAINING GIVEN BY THE SCHOOL COMMUNITY\n    1. The unity of social ethics and school ethics\n    2. A narrow and formal training for citizenship\n    3. School life should train for many social relations\n    4. It should train for self-direction and leadership\n    5. There is no harmonious development of powers apart from social\n       situations\n    6. School activities should be typical of social life\n    7. Moral training in the schools tends to be pathological and formal\n\n  III. THE MORAL TRAINING FROM METHODS OF INSTRUCTION\n    1. Active social service as opposed to passive individual absorption\n    2. The positive inculcation of individualistic motives and standards\n    3. The evils of competition for external standing\n    4. The moral waste of remote success as an end\n    5. The worth of active and social modes of learning\n\n  IV. THE SOCIAL NATURE OF THE COURSE OF STUDY\n    1. The nature of the course of study influences the conduct of the\n       school\n    2. School studies as means of realizing social situations\n    3. School subjects are merely phases of a unified social life\n    4. The meaning of subjects is controlled by social considerations\n    5. Geography deals with the scenes of social interaction\n    6. Its various forms represent increasing stages of abstraction\n    7. History is a means for interpreting existing social relations\n    8. It presents type phases of social development\n    9. It offers contrasts, and consequently perspective\n   10. It teaches the methods of social progress\n   11. The failure of certain methods of teaching history\n   12. Mathematics is a means to social ends\n   13. The sociological nature of business arithmetic\n   14. Summary: The moral trinity of the school\n\n  V. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ASPECT OF MORAL EDUCATION\n    1. Conduct as a mode of individual performance\n    2. Native instincts and impulses are the sources of conduct\n    3. Moral ideals must be realized in persons\n    4. Character as a system of working forces\n    5. Force as a necessary constituent of character\n    6. The importance of intellectual judgment or good sense\n    7. The capacity for delicate emotional responsiveness\n    8. Summary: The ethical standards for testing the school\n    9. Conclusion: The practicality of moral principles\n\n\n\n\nRIVERSIDE EDUCATIONAL MONOGRAPHS\n\n\n_General Educational Theory_\n\n  COOLIDGE'S America's Need for Education.\n  DEWEY'S Interest and Effort in Education.\n  DEWEY'S Moral Principles in Education.\n  ELIOT'S Education for Efficiency.\n  ELIOT'S The Tendency to the Concrete and Practical in Modern Education.\n  EMERSON'S Education and other Selections.\n  FISKE'S The Meaning of Infancy.\n  HORNE'S The Teacher as Artist.\n  HYDE'S The Teacher's Philosophy in and out of School.\n  JUDD'S The Evolution of a Democratic School System.\n  MEREDITH'S The Educational Bearings of Modern Psychology.\n  PALMER'S The Ideal Teacher.\n  PALMER'S Trades and Professions.\n  PALMER'S Ethical and Moral Instruction in Schools.\n  PROSSER'S The Teacher and Old Age.\n  STOCKTON'S Project Work in Education.\n  STRATTON'S Developing Mental Power.\n  TERMAN'S The Teacher's Health.\n  THORNDIKE'S Individuality.\n  TROW'S Scientific Method in Education.\n\n\n_Administration and Supervision_\n\n  BETT'S New Ideals in Rural Schools.\n  BLOOMFIELD'S The Vocational Guidance of Youth.\n  CABOT'S Volunteer Help to the Schools.\n  COLE'S Industrial Education in the Elementary School.\n  CUBBERLEY'S Changing Conceptions of Education.\n  CUBBERLEY'S The Improvement of Rural Schools.\n  DOOLEY'S The Education of the Ne'er-Do-Well.\n  GATES'S The Management of Smaller Schools.\n  HINES'S Measuring Intelligence.\n  KOOS'S The High-School Principal.\n  LEWIS'S Democracy's High School.\n  MAXWELL'S The Observation of Teaching.\n  MAXWELL'S The Selection of Textbooks.\n  MILLER and CHARLES'S Publicity and the Public School.\n  PERRY'S The Status of the Teacher.\n  RUSSELL'S Economy in Secondary Education.\n  SMITH'S Establishing Industrial Schools.\n  SNEDDEN'S The Problem of Vocational Guidance.\n  WEEKS'S The People's School.\n\n\n_Method_\n\n ANDRESS'S The Teaching of Hygiene in the Grades.\n ATWOOD'S The Theory and Practice of the Kindergarten.\n BAILEY'S Art Education.\n BETTS'S The Recitation.\n COOLEY'S Language Teaching in the Grades.\n DOUGHERTY'S How to Teach Phonics.\n EARHART'S Teaching Children to Study.\n EVANS'S The Teaching of High School Mathematics.\n FAIRCHILD'S The Teaching of Poetry in the High School.\n FREEMAN'S The Teaching of Handwriting.\n HALIBURTON and SMITH'S Teaching Poetry in the Grades.\n HARTWELL'S The Teaching of History.\n HAWLEY'S Teaching English in Junior High Schools.\n HAYNES'S Economics in the Secondary School.\n HILL'S The Teaching of Civics.\n JENKINS'S Reading in the Primary Grades.\n KENDALL and STRYKER'S History in the Elementary School.\n KILPATRICK'S The Montessori System Examined.\n LEONARD'S English Composition as a Social Problem.\n LOSH and WEEKS'S Primary Number Projects.\n PALMER'S Self-Cultivation in English.\n RIDGLEY'S Geographic Principles.\n RUEDIGER'S Vitalized Teaching.\n SHARP'S Teaching English in High Schools.\n STOCKTON'S Project Work in Education.\n SUZZALLO'S The Teaching of Primary Arithmetic.\n SUZZALLO'S The Teaching of Spelling.\n SWIFT'S Speech Defects in School Children.\n TUELL'S The Study of Nations.\n WILSON's What Arithmetic Shall We Teach?\n\n\nHOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY","title":"Moral Principles in Education","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":10836}