{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_57689/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_57689","id":"gutenberg_57689","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/57689","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Parenthood & Family Relations","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Teaching & Education","Child rearing","Punishment"],"text":"E-text prepared by Turgut Dincer, Martin Pettit, and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images\ngenerously made available by the Google Books Library Project\n(https://books.google.com)\n\n\n\nNote: Images of the original pages are available through\n      the Google Books Library Project. See\n      https://books.google.com/books?id=pV9HAQAAMAAJ&hl=en\n\n\n\n\n\nAmerican Home Series\nNorman E. Richardson, Editor\n\n\nTHE PUNISHMENT OF CHILDREN\n\nby\n\nFELIX ADLER\n\n\n[Illustration: Logo]\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Abingdon Press\nNew York      Cincinnati\n\n\n\n\nEDITORIAL NOTE\n\n\nThe material contained in this pamphlet was originally delivered in\nthree addresses before the Ethical Culture Society of New York City.\nSpecial permission has been given to have it reprinted in this form.\n\nThe ethical nurture of the child is a distinct responsibility which no\nparent can neglect with impunity. When ignorant of the more elementary\nprinciples of punishment, parents easily fall into one of two serious\nerrors. The use of harsh and severely arbitrary methods causes the\nchild's fine ethical sensibilities to become dull. Through indifference\nor careless neglect, the child becomes willful, erratic, or\nself-indulgent. In this study Dr. Adler, with remarkable skill, guides\nthe parent between these two extremes. He shows that it is possible to\nbe consistent without being harsh, gentle without being vacillating.\n\nThe mastery of the art of punishment is also one of the most direct\nmeans of ethical self-culture. It is to be hoped that a careful study of\nthis subject may result in a refinement of the attitude of parents\ntoward each other, as well as toward their children.\n\nNORMAN E. RICHARDSON.\n\n\nPrinted in the United States of America\n\nFirst Edition Printed April, 1920\nReprinted July, 1920; March, 1922\n\n\n\n\nTHE PUNISHMENT OF CHILDREN\n\n\n\n\nI\n\n\nIt is man's moral duty to act as the physician of his enemies and seek\nto cure them of their wrongdoing. How much more, then, should this\nattitude be taken toward those whom we love--toward our children, if we\nfind their characters marred by serious faults?\n\nIn discussing the subject of punishment I do not for a moment think of\ncovering the innumerable problems which it suggests. Many books have\nbeen written on this subject; prolonged study and the experience of a\nlifetime are barely sufficient for a mastery of its details. I shall\ncontent myself with suggesting a few simple rules and principles, and\nshall consider my object gained if I induce my hearers to enter upon a\ncloser investigation of the delicate and manifold questions involved.\n\n\n1. NEVER ADMINISTER PUNISHMENT IN ANGER\n\nThe first general rule to which I would refer is, _never administer\npunishment in anger_. A saying of Socrates deserves to be carefully\nborne in mind. Turning one day upon his insolent servant, Speucippus,\nwho had subjected him to great annoyance, he exclaimed, \"I should beat\nyou now, sirrah, were I not so angry with you.\" The practice of most men\nis the very opposite; they beat and punish because they _are_ angry.\n\nBut it is clear that we cannot trust ourselves to correct another while\nwe are enraged. The intensity of our anger is proportional to the degree\nof annoyance which we have experienced, but it happens quite frequently\nthat a great annoyance may be caused by a slight fault, just as,\nconversely, the greatest fault may cause us only slight annoyance, or\nmay even contribute to our pleasure. We should administer serious\npunishment where the fault is serious, and slight punishment where the\nfault is slight. But, as I have just said, a slight fault may sometimes\ncause serious annoyance, just as a slight spark thrown into a powder\nmagazine may cause a destructive explosion. And we do often resemble a\npowder magazine, being filled with suppressed inflammable irritations,\nso that a trivial naughtiness on the part of a child may cause a most\nabsurd display of temper.\n\nBut is it the child's fault that we are in this irascible condition? To\nshow how a slight fault may sometimes cause a most serious annoyance,\nlet me remind you of the story of Vedius Pollio, the Roman. He was one\nday entertaining the Emperor Augustus at dinner. During the banquet a\nslave who was carrying one of the crystal goblets by which his master\nset great store, in his nervousness suffered the goblet to fall from his\nhand so that it broke into a thousand pieces on the floor. Pollio was so\ninfuriated that he ordered the slave to be bound and thrown into a\nneighboring fishpond, to be devoured by the lampreys. The Emperor\ninterfered to save the slave's life, but Pollio was too much enraged to\ndefer even to the Emperor's wish. Thereupon Augustus ordered that every\ncrystal goblet in the house should be broken in his presence, that the\nslave should be set free, and that the obnoxious fishpond should be\nclosed.\n\nThe breaking of a goblet or vase is a good instance of how a slight\nfault, a mere inadvertency, may cause serious damage and great chagrin.\nIn the same way an unseasonable word, loud conversation, a bit of\npardonable mischief, which we should overlook under ordinary\ncircumstances, may throw us into a fury when we are out of sorts. When\nwe have urgent business and are kept waiting, we are apt, unless we keep\na curb on our tempers, to break forth into violent complaints, which\nindeed are quite proportional to the amount of annoyance we experience,\nbut not necessarily to the fault of the person who occasions it.\n\nOur business is to cure faults, and in order to accomplish this end the\npunishment should be meted out in due proportion to the fault. Instead\nof following this principle, the great majority of men when they punish\nare not like reasonable beings, selecting right means toward a true end,\nbut like hot springs which boil over because they cannot contain\nthemselves.\n\nWe ought never to punish in anger. No one can trust himself when in that\nstate; an angry man is always liable to overshoot the mark; we must wait\nuntil our angry feeling has had time to cool.\n\nDo I then advise that we administer punishment in cold blood? No, we\nought to correct the faults of others with a certain moral warmth\nexpressed in our words and manner, a warmth which is produced by our\nreprehension of the fault, not by the annoyance which it causes us.\nThis, then, is the first rule: _Never punish in anger_.\n\n\n2. DISTINGUISH BETWEEN THE CHILD AND THE FAULT\n\nThe second rule is that in correcting a child we should be careful to\ndistinguish between the child and its fault; we should not allow the\nshadow of the fault to darken the whole nature of the child. We should\ntreat the fault as something accidental which can be removed. Vulgar\npersons, when a child has told a falsehood, say, \"You liar.\" They\nidentify the child with the fault of lying, and thereby imply that this\nvice is ingrained in its nature. They do not say or imply, \"You have\ntold a falsehood, but you will surely not do so again; hereafter you\nwill tell the truth\"; they say, \"You are a liar\"; which is equivalent to\nsaying, \"Lying has become part and parcel of your nature.\" In the same\nway when a child has proved itself incapable of mastering a certain\ntask, the thoughtless parent or teacher may exclaim, impatiently, \"You\nare a dunce\"; that is to say, \"You are a hopeless case; nothing but\nstupidity is to be expected of you.\" All opprobrious epithets of this\nsort are to be most scrupulously avoided. Even to the worst offender one\nshould say: \"You have acted thus in one case, perhaps in many cases, but\nyou can act otherwise; the evil has not eaten into the core of your\nnature. There is still a sound part in you; there is good at the bottom\nof your soul, and if you will only assert your better nature, you can do\nwell.\" We are bound to show confidence in the transgressor. Our\nconfidence may be disappointed a hundred times, but it must never be\nwholly destroyed, for it is the crutch on which the weak lean in their\nfeeble efforts to walk.\n\nNow, such language as \"You are a dunce,\" \"You are a liar,\" is, to be\nsure, used only by the vulgar; but many parents who would not use such\nwords imply as much by their attitude toward their child; they indicate\nby their manner, \"Well, nothing good is to be expected of you.\" This\nattitude of the parents is born of selfishness; the child has\ndisappointed their expectations, and the disappointment, instead of\nmaking them more tender toward the child, makes them impatient. But this\nis not the attitude of the physician whose business it is to cure evil.\nWe must give the child to understand that we still have hope of his\namendment; _the slightest improvement should be welcomed with an\nexpression of satisfaction_.\n\nWe should never attach absolute blame to a child, never overwhelm it\nwith a general condemnation. And in like manner we should never give\nabsolute praise, never injure a child by unlimited approbation. The\nwords, \"_excellent_,\" \"_perfect_,\" _which are sometimes used in school\nreports, are inexcusable_. I have seen the object of education thwarted\nin the case of particularly promising pupils by such unqualified\nadmiration. No human being is ethically perfect, and to tell a child\nthat he is perfect is to encourage a superficial way of looking upon\nlife and to pamper his conceit.\n\nThe right attitude is to say or to imply by our manner, \"You have done\nwell thus far; go on as you have begun and try hereafter to do still\nbetter.\" Such words as these fall like sunshine into the soul, warming\nand fructifying every good seed.\n\nOn the other hand, to tell a child that he is perfect may induce him to\nrelax his effort, for having reached the summit he does not feel the\nneed of further exertion. We should correct faults in such a way as to\nimply that not everything is lost. And we should praise merit in such a\nway as to imply that not everything is yet achieved; that, on the\ncontrary, the goal is still far, far in the distance.\n\nEverything, as I have said, depends upon the attitude of the parent or\ninstructor. Those who possess educational tact--a very rare and precious\nquality--adopt the right attitude by a sort of instinct. But those who\ndo not possess it naturally can acquire it, at least to a certain\ndegree, by reflecting upon the underlying principles of punishment.\n\n\n3. DO NOT LECTURE CHILDREN\n\nThe third rule is, _Do not lecture children_. One feels tempted to say\nto some parents: \"You do not succeed as well as you might in the\ntraining of your children because you talk too much. The less you say\nthe more effective will your discipline be. Let your measures speak for\nyou.\"\n\nWhen punishment is necessary let it come upon the child like the action\nof a natural law--calm, unswerving, inevitable. Do not attempt to give\nreasons or to argue with the child concerning the punishment you are\nabout to inflict. If the child is in danger of thinking your punishment\nunjust, it may be expedient to explain the reasons of your action, but\ndo so after the punishment has been inflicted.\n\nThere are parents who are perpetually scolding their children. The fact\nthat they scold so much is proof of their educational helplessness. They\ndo not know what measures of discipline to apply, hence they scold.\nOften their scolding is due to momentary passion, and the child\nintuitively detects that this is so. If the parent is in ill humor, a\nmischievous prank, a naughty word, an act of disobedience sometimes puts\nhim into a towering passion; at other times the same offense may be\nlightly considered, or even worse offenses passed over with meaningless\n\"Don't do that again.\" The child perceives this vacillation, and learns\nto look upon a scolding as a mere passing shower, hiding its head under\nshelter until the storm has blown over.\n\nOther parents are given to delivering lengthy homilies to their\nchildren, and then often express surprise that all their sound doctrine,\nall their beautiful sermons, have no effect whatever. If they would\npause to consider for a moment, they could easily see why their lectures\nhave no effect, why they pass \"in at one ear and out at the other.\"\nTheir lectures on right and wrong are generally too abstract for the\nchild's comprehension, and often do not touch its case at all. Moreover,\nthe iteration of the same dingdong has the effect of blunting the\nchild's apprehension. A stern rebuke is occasionally necessary and does\ngood, but it should be short, clear, incisive.\n\nA moralizing talk with an older child sometimes does good. The parent\nshould not, however, indulge in generalities, but, looking over the\nrecord of the child for the past weeks or months, should pick out the\ndefinite points in which it has transgressed, thus holding up a picture\nof the child's life to its own eyes to reenforce the memory of its\nfaults and stimulate its conscience. In general, it may be said that the\nless the parent talks about moral delinquencies the better. On this\nrule of parsimony in respect to words particular stress is to be laid.\n\n\n4. UNDEVIATING CONSISTENCY\n\nThe next rule is quite as important as the preceding ones. It is that of\n_undeviating consistency_. Were not the subject altogether too painful,\nit would be amusing to observe how weak mothers--and weak fathers\ntoo--constantly eat their own words.\n\n\"How often have I told you not to do this thing, but now you have done\nit again.\" \"Well, what is to follow?\" secretly asks the child. \"The next\ntime you do it I shall surely punish you.\" The next time the story\nrepeats itself; and so it is always \"the next time.\" Very often foolish\nthreats are made, which the parents know they cannot and will not carry\nout; and do you suppose that the children do not know as well as you\nthat the threat you have been uttering is an idle one?\n\nWe should be extremely careful in deciding what to demand of a child.\nOur demands should be determined by a scrupulous regard for the child's\nown good, but when the word has gone forth, especially in the case of\nyoung children, we should insist on unquestioning obedience. Our will\nmust be recognized by the child as its law; it must not suspect that we\nare governed by passion or caprice.\n\nThere are those that protest that this is too stern a method, that\ngentle treatment, persuasion, and love ought to suffice to induce the\nchild to obey. Love and persuasion do suffice in many cases, but they do\nnot answer in all; and, besides, I hold it to be important that the\nchild should sometimes be brought face to face with a law which is\nsuperior to the law of its own will, and should be compelled to bend to\nthe higher law, as expressed in its parent's wishes, merely because it\nis a higher law.\n\nAnd so far from believing this is to be a cruel method, I believe that\nthe opposite method of always wheedling and coaxing children into\nobedience is really cruel. Many a time later on in life its self-love\nwill beat in vain against the immutable barriers of law, and if the\nchild has not learned to yield to rightful authority in youth, the\nnecessity of doing so later on will only be the more bitterly felt. The\nchild should sometimes be compelled to yield to the parent's authority\nsimply because the parental authority expresses a higher law than that\nof its own will.\n\nAnd this leads me to speak incidentally of a subject which is nearly\nallied to the one we are now discussing.\n\nIt is a well-known trick of the nursery to divert the child from some\nobject which it is not to have by quickly directing its attention to\nanother object. If a child cries for the moon, amuse it with the light\nof a candle; if it insists upon handling a fragile vase, attract its\nattention to the doll; if it demands a knife with which it might injure\nitself, call in the rattle to the rescue.\n\nThis method is quite proper for baby children, but it is often continued\nto a much later age with harmful results. As soon as the\nself-consciousness of the child is fairly developed, that is, about the\nthird year, this method should no longer be employed. It is important\nthat the will power of the young be strengthened. Now, the more the will\nis accustomed to fasten upon the objects of desire the stronger does it\nbecome, while, by rapidly introducing new objects the will is distracted\nand a certain shiftlessness is induced, the will being made to glide\nfrom one object to another without fixing itself definitely upon any\none. It is far better to allow a child to develop a will of its own, but\nto make it understand that it must at times yield this will to the will\nof the parent, than thus to distract its attention. If it wants a knife\nwhich it ought not to have, make it understand firmly, though never\nharshly, that it cannot have what it wants, that it must yield its wish\nto the parent's wish. Nor is it at all necessary every time to give the\nreasons why. The fact that the parent commands is a sufficient reason.\n\nThe rules thus far mentioned are, that we shall not punish in anger,\nthat we shall not identify the child with its fault, that we shall be\nsparing with admonitions and let positive discipline speak for itself,\nand that, while demanding nothing which is unreasonable, we should\ninsist on implicit obedience.\n\n\n5. PHYSICAL PLEASURE AS A REWARD OF VIRTUE\n\nThere is one question that touches the general subject of punishment and\nreward which is in some sense the most important and vital of all the\nquestions we are considering. It throws a bright light or a deep shadow\non the whole theory of life, according to the point of view we take.\n\nI allude to the question whether the pleasures of the senses should be\ntreated as a reward for the performance of duty. A parent says to his\nchild: \"You have been good to-day; you have studied your lessons; your\ndeportment has been satisfactory: I will reward you by giving you\nsweetmeats, or by taking you on a holiday into the country.\" But what\nconnection can there possibly be between the performance of duty and the\nphysical pleasure enjoyed in eating sweetmeats? Is not the connection a\npurely arbitrary one? Does it not depend upon the notion that there is\nno intrinsic satisfaction in a moral act? We ought to see that it is\nradically wrong to make such enjoyments the reward of virtue; we ought\nto have the courage to make application of our better theories to the\neducation of our children if we would develop in them the germs of a\nnobler, freer manhood and womanhood. I admit, indeed, that a child is\nnot yet sufficiently developed to stand on its own feet morally, and\nthat its virtuous inclinations need to be supported and assisted; but\nwe can give it this assistance by means of our approbation or\ndisapprobation.\n\nTo be in disgrace with its parents ought to be for a child the heaviest\npenalty. To have their favor should be its highest reward. But simply\nbecause a child is most easily taken on the side of its animal\ninstincts, are we to appeal to it on that side? Should it not be our aim\nto raise the young child above the mere desire for physical\ngratification, to prevent it from attaching too much importance to such\npleasures?\n\nThe conduct of many parents, however, I fear, tends to foster\nartificially that lower nature in their offspring which it should rather\nbe their aim to repress. By their method of bestowing extraneous\nrewards, parents contribute to pervert the character of their children\nin earliest infancy, giving it a wrong direction from the start.\n\nBut, it may be objected, is there not a wholesome truth contained in\nSaint Paul's saying that \"he who will not work, neither shall he eat\"?\nIs not our conscience offended when we see a person enjoying the\npleasures of life who will perform none of its more serious duties? And\nshould we not all agree that, in a certain sense, virtue entitles one to\npleasure, and the absence of virtue ought to preclude one from pleasure?\n\nTo meet this point let us dwell for a moment on the following\nconsiderations. Man is endowed with a variety of faculties, and a\ndifferent type of pleasure or satisfaction arises from the exercise of\neach. Pleasure, in general, may be defined as the feeling which results\nfrom successful exercise of any of our faculties--physical, mental or\nmoral. A successful rider takes pleasure in horsemanship, an athlete in\nthe lifting of weights. The greater an artist's mastery over his art,\nthe greater the pleasure he derives from it. The more complex and\ndifficult the problems which a scholar is able to resolve, the more\ndelight does he find in study. The same is true of the moral nature.\nThe more a man succeeds in harmonizing his inner life, and in helping to\nmake the principles of social harmony prevail in the world about him,\nthe more satisfaction will he derive from the exercise of virtue.\n\nBut the main fact which we are bound to remember is that it is\nimpossible to pay for the exercise of any one faculty by the pleasure\nderived from the exercise of another; that each faculty is legitimately\npaid only in its own coin. If you ask a horseman who has just returned\nfrom an exhilarating ride what compensation he expects to receive for\nthe exercise he has taken, he will probably look at you in blank\namazement, with grave misgivings as to your sanity. If you ask a\nscientist what reward he expects to receive for the pursuit of\nknowledge, he will answer you, if he is an expert in the use of his\nintellect, that he expects no ulterior reward of any kind; that not\npositive knowledge so much as the sense of growth in the attainment of\nknowledge is the highest reward which he can imagine. And the same\nanswer you will get from a person who is expert in the use of his moral\nfaculty, namely, that not virtue so much as growth in virtue, not the\nresults achieved by the exercise of the faculty, but the successful\nexercise itself is the supreme compensation.\n\nI have used the word \"expert\" in all these cases, and precisely \"there's\nthe rub.\" The reason why many persons cannot get themselves to believe\nthat the exercise of the mental and moral faculties is a sufficient\nreward is because they are not expert, because they have not penetrated\nfar enough along the lines of knowledge and virtue to obtain the\nsatisfactions of them. But the same applies to the tyro in any pursuit.\nA rider who has not yet acquired a firm seat in the saddle will hardly\nderive much pleasure from horseback exercise. An awkward, clumsy dancer,\nwho cannot keep step, will get no pleasure from dancing. There is no\nhelp for the tyro, no matter in what direction he aims at excellence,\nexcept to go on trying until he becomes expert.\n\nI have said that each faculty is sovereign in its own sphere, that each\nprovides its proper satisfactions within itself and does not borrow them\nfrom the domain of any of the others. Nevertheless we are constrained to\nadmit the important truth that is contained in the saying of Saint Paul.\nAnd this truth, it seems to me, may be formulated in the words that,\nwhile physical pleasure is not the reward of virtue, virtue ought to be\nregarded as the condition _sine qua non_ of the enjoyment of physical\npleasures--at least, so far as the distribution of such pleasures is\nwithin the power of the educator or of society.\n\nThis proposition depends on the difference in rank that subsists between\nour faculties, of which some are superior and others inferior, the moral\nand intellectual faculties rightfully occupying the top of the scale. We\ninwardly rebel when we see the indolent and self-indulgent living in\nluxury and affluence. And this not because the enjoyments which such\npersons command are the proper compensations of virtue, or because\nphysical pain would be the proper punishment of their moral faults, but\nbecause we demand that the lower faculties shall not be exercised at the\nexpense and to the neglect of the higher, that the legitimate rank and\norder of our faculties shall not be subverted.\n\nApplying this idea to the case of children, I think it would be\nperfectly proper to deny a child that has failed to study its lessons or\nhas given other occasion for serious displeasure, the privilege of going\non a holiday to the country or enjoying its favorite sports. Everything,\nhowever, will depend--as so much in education does depend--on the\nmanner; in this instance on what we imply in our denial rather than on\nwhat we expressly state.\n\nThe denial, it seems to me, should be made on the ground that there is a\nproper order in which the faculties are to be exercised; that the\nhigher, the mental, faculties should be exercised first, and that he\nwho will not aim at the higher satisfactions, neither shall he, so far\nas we can prevent, enjoy the lower. On the other hand, by making\nphysical pleasures--sports, games and the like--the reward of study, we\nexalt these satisfactions so as to make _them_ seem the higher, so as to\nmake the satisfactions of knowledge appear of lesser value compared with\nthe satisfactions of the senses.\n\nIn an ideal community every one of our faculties would be brought into\nplay in turn, without our ever being tempted to regard the pleasures of\nthe one as compensation for the exercise of the other. The human soul\nhas often been compared to an instrument with many strings. Perhaps it\nmay not be amiss to compare it to an orchestra. In this orchestra the\nviolins represent the intellectual faculties. They lead the rest. Then\nthere are the flute-notes of love, the trumpet tones of ambition, the\nrattling drums and cymbals of the passions and appetites. Each of these\ninstruments is to come in its proper place, while the moral plan of life\nis the musical composition which they all assist in rendering.\n\nWhat we should try to banish is the vicious idea of extraneous reward,\nthe notion that man is an animal whose object in life is to eat and\ndrink, to possess gold and fine garments, and to gratify every lower\ndesire, and that he can be brought to labor only on condition that he\nmay obtain such pleasures. What we should impress instead is the notion\nthat labor itself is satisfying--manual labor, mental labor, moral\nlabor--and that the more difficult the labor, the higher the\ncompensating satisfactions.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\n\nI have thus far endeavored to combat the notion that physical pleasure\nshould be offered as a reward for virtue, and physical pain inflicted as\na punishment for moral faults. Now we are in a position to apply this\nconclusion to some special questions which it is proposed to take up for\nconsideration. The first of these relates to corporal punishment.\n\n\n1. CORPORAL PUNISHMENT\n\nIt was in that period of history which is so justly called the Dark Ages\nthat the lurid doctrine of hell as a place for the eternal bodily\ntorture of the wicked haunted men's minds, and the same mediaeval period\nwitnessed the most horrible examples of corporal punishment in the\nschools and in the homes.\n\nThis was no mere coincidence. As the manners of the people are so will\ntheir religion be. Savage parents who treat their children in a cruel,\npassionate way naturally entertain the idea of a god who treats his\nhuman children in the same way. If we wish to purify the religious\nbeliefs of men, we must first ameliorate their daily life.\n\nThere was once a schoolmaster who boasted that during his long and\ninteresting career he had inflicted corporal punishment more than a\nmillion times. In modern days the tide of public opinion has set\nstrongly against corporal punishment. It is being abolished in many of\nour public institutions, and the majority of cultivated parents have a\ndecided feeling against availing themselves of this method of\ndiscipline.\n\nBut the mere sentiment against it is not sufficient. Is the opposition\nto it the result possibly of that increased sensitiveness to pain which\nwe observe in the modern man, of the indisposition to inflict or to\nwitness suffering? Then some stern teacher might tell us that to\ninflict suffering is sometimes necessary, that it is a sign of weakness\nto shrink from it, that as the surgeon must sometimes apply the knife in\norder to effect a radical cure, so the conscientious parent should\nsometimes inflict physical pain in order to eradicate grievous faults.\nThe stern teacher might warn us against \"sparing the rod and spoiling\nthe child.\"\n\nWe must not, therefore, base our opposition to corporal punishment\nmerely on sentimental grounds. And there is no need for doing so, for\nthere are sound principles on which the argument may be made to rest.\nCorporal punishment does not merely conflict with our tenderer\nsympathies, it thwarts and defeats the purpose of moral reformation. In\nthe first place it brutalizes the child; secondly, in many cases it\nbreaks the child's spirit, making it a moral coward; and, thirdly, it\ntends to weaken the sense of shame, on which the hope of moral\nimprovement depends.\n\n_Corporal punishment brutalizes the child._ We may be justified in\nbeating a brute, though, of course, never in a cruel, merciless way. A\nlazy beast of burden may be stirred up to work; an obstinate mule must\nfeel the touch of the whip. Corporal punishment implies that a rational\nhuman being is on the level of an animal.[1] Its underlying thought is:\nyou can be controlled only through your animal instincts; you can be\nmoved only by an appeal to your bodily feelings. It is a practical\ndenial of that higher nature which exists in every human being, and this\nis a degrading view of human character. A child which is accustomed to\nbe treated like an animal is apt to behave like an animal. Thus corporal\npunishment instead of moralizing serves to demoralize the character.\n\nIn the next place _corporal punishment often breaks the spirit of a\nchild_. Have you ever observed how some children that have been often\nwhipped will whine and beg off when the angry parent is about to take\nout the rattan: \"O, I will never do it again; O, let me off this time.\"\nWhat an abject sight it is--a child fawning and entreating and groveling\nlike a dog! And must not the parent too feel humiliated in such a\nsituation! Courage is one of the noblest of the manly virtues. We should\ntrain our children to bear unavoidable pain without flinching, but\nsensitive natures can only be slowly accustomed to endure suffering; and\nchastisement, when it is frequent and severe, results in making a\nsensitive child more and more cowardly, more and more afraid of the\nblows. In such cases it is the parents themselves, by their barbarous\ndiscipline, who stamp the ugly vice of cowardice upon their children.\n\nEven more disastrous is the third effect of corporal punishment, that of\n_blunting the sense of shame_. Some children quail before a blow, but\nothers, of a more obstinate disposition, assume an attitude of dogged\nindifference. They hold out the hand, they take the stinging blows, they\nutter no cry, they never wince; they will not let the teacher or father\ntriumph over them to that extent; they walk off in stolid indifference.\n\nNow, a blow is an invasion of personal liberty. Every one who receives a\nblow feels a natural impulse to resent it. But boys who are compelled by\nthose in authority over them to submit often to such humiliation are\nliable to lose the finer feeling for what is humiliating. They become,\nas the popular phrase puts it, \"hardened.\" Their sense of shame is\ndeadened.\n\nBut sensitiveness to shame is that quality of our nature on which, above\nall others, moral progress depends. The stigma of public disgrace is one\nof the most potent safeguards of virtue. The world cries \"Shame\" upon\nthe thief, and the dread of the disgrace which is implied in being\ncalled a thief acts as one of the strongest preventives upon those whom\nhunger and poverty might tempt to steal. The world cries \"Shame\" upon\nthe lawbreaker in general, but those who in their youth are accustomed\nto be put to shame by corporal punishment are likely to become obtuse to\nother forms of disgrace as well. The same criticism applies to those\nmeans of publicly disgracing children which have been in vogue so\nlong--the fool's cap, the awkward squad, the bad boy's bench, and the\nlike. When a child finds itself frequently exposed to ignominy it\nbecomes indifferent to ignominy, and thus the door is opened for the\nentrance of the worst vices.\n\nThere is one excellence, indeed, which I perceive in corporal\npunishment; it is an excellent means of breeding criminals. Parents who\ninflict frequent corporal punishment, I make bold to say, are helping to\nprepare their children for a life of crime; they put them on a level\nwith the brute, break their spirit and weaken their sense of shame.\n\n\n2. THE EVIL OF THE MARK SYSTEM\n\nThe second special question which we have to consider relates to the\nmark system. As this system is applied to hundreds of thousands of\nschool children, the question whether that influence is good or evil\nconcerns us closely. I am of the opinion that it is evil. The true aim\nof every school should be to lead the pupils to pursue knowledge for the\nsake of knowledge, and to preserve a correct deportment in order to gain\nthe approbation of conscience and of the teacher whose judgment\nrepresents the verdict of conscience.\n\nI object to the mark system because it introduces a kind of outward\npayment for progress in study and good conduct. The marks which the\npupil receives stand for the dollars and cents which the man will\nreceive later on for his work. So much school work performed, so many\nmarks in return. But a child should be taught to study for the pleasure\nwhich study gives, and for the improvement of the mind which is its\nhappy result.\n\nI know of a school where the forfeiture of twelve marks was made the\npenalty for a certain misdemeanor. One day a pupil, being detected in a\nforbidden act, turned to the teacher and said, \"I agree to the forfeit,\nyou can strike off my twelve marks,\" and then went on openly\ntransgressing the rule, as if he had paid out so many shillings for an\nenjoyment which he was determined to have; as if the outward forfeit\ncould atone for the antimoral spirit by which the act was inspired. But\nhow is it possible by any external system of marks to change the\nantimoral spirit of an offender?\n\nI object, furthermore, to the marking system because the discrimination\nto which it leads can never be really just. One boy receives an average\nof ninety-seven and one half per cent, and another of ninety-five. The\none who receives ninety-seven and one half thinks himself superior to,\nand is ranked as the superior of the one who has received only\nninety-five. But is it possible to rate mental and moral differences\nbetween children in this arithmetical fashion?\n\nAbove all, I object to this system because it appeals to a low spirit of\ncompetition among the young in order to incite them to study. \"Ambition\nis avarice on stilts,\" as Landor puts it. Of course it is better to try\nto outshine others in what is excellent than in what is vicious; but if\nthe object be that of outshining others at all, of gaining superiority\nover others, no matter how high the faculties may be which are called\ninto exercise, the motive is impure and ought to be condemned. There is\na general impression abroad that men are not yet good enough to make it\npracticable to appeal to their better nature. But it is forgotten that\nby constantly appealing to the baser impulses we give these undue\nprominence, and starve out and weaken the nobler instincts. Whatever\nthe truth may be in regard to later life, it seems to me culpable to\nfoster this sort of competition in young children.\n\nNow, the mark spirit does foster such a spirit in our schools. It\nteaches the pupils to work for distinction rather than for the solid\nsatisfaction of growth in intelligence and mental power. Doubtless,\nwhere the method of instruction is mechanical, where the atmosphere of\nthe classroom is dull and lifeless, and the tasks are uninteresting, it\nis necessary to use artificial means in order to keep the pupils to\ntheir work; it is necessary to give them the sweet waters of flattered\nself-esteem in order to induce them to swallow the dry-as-dust contents\nof a barren school learning.\n\nBut is it not possible to have schools in which every subject taught\nshall be made interesting to the scholars, in which the ways of\nknowledge shall become the ways of pleasantness, in which there shall be\nsufficient variety in the program of lessons to keep the minds of the\npupils constantly fresh and vigorous, in which the pupils shall not be\nrewarded by being dismissed at an earlier hour than usual from the\nschool, but in which possibly they shall consider it reward to be\nallowed to remain longer than usual? And, indeed, requests of this sort\nare often made in schools of the better kind, and in such schools there\nis no need of an artificial mark system, no need to stimulate the\nunwholesome ambition of the pupils, no need to bribe them to perform\ntheir tasks. Rather do such pupils look with affection upon their\nschool; and the daily task itself is a delight and a sufficient reward.\n\nI do not, of course, oppose the giving of reports to children. Such\nexpressions as \"good,\" \"fair\" and \"poor,\" which formulate the teacher's\nopinion of the pupil from time to time, are indispensable, inasmuch as\nthey acquaint the parents and the pupil himself with the instructor's\ngeneral approval or disapprobation. I only oppose the numerical\ncalculation of merit and demerit, and the vulgar method of determining\nthe pupil's rank in the class according to percentages. Under that\nmethod the pupils, having pursued knowledge only as a means to the end\nof satisfying their pride and vanity, relax their efforts when they have\ngained this ambitious aim. They cease to take any deeper interest in the\npursuit of knowledge the moment they have achieved their purpose. The\nnotorious failure of the system, despite all its artificial stimulants,\nto create lasting attachment and devotion to intellectual pursuits\ncondemns the whole idea of marks, to my mind, beyond appeal.\n\n\n3. \"NATURAL PENALTIES\"\n\nWe pass next to the method for correcting the faults of children which\nhas been proposed by Herbert Spencer in his collected essays on\neducation. These essays have attracted great attention, as anything\nwould be sure to do which comes from so distinguished a source. I have\nheard people who are ardent admirers of Spencer say, \"We base the\neducation of our children entirely on Mr. Spencer's book.\" All the more\nnecessary is it to examine whether the recommendations of his book will\nwholly bear criticism.\n\nI cannot help feeling that if Mr. Spencer had been more thoroughly at\nhome in the best educational literature he would not have presented to\nus an old method as if it were new, and would not have described that\nwhich is at best but a second- or third-rate help in moral education as\nthe central principle of it all, the keynote of the whole theory of the\nmoral training of the young.\n\nThe method which he advises us to adopt is that of _visiting upon the\nchild the natural penalties of its transgression_, of causing it to\nexperience the inevitable consequences of evil acts in order that it may\navoid evil, of building up the moral nature of the child, by leading it\nto observe the outward results of its acts. Mr. Spencer points out that\nwhen a child puts its finger into the flame, or when it incautiously\ntouches a hot stove, it is burned; \"a burnt child shuns the fire.\" When\na child carelessly handles a sharp knife it is apt to cut its fingers.\nThis is a salutary lesson; it will be more careful thereafter; this is\nthe method of nature, namely, of teaching by experience. And this is a\nkind of cure-all which he offers for general application. He does,\nindeed, admit at the close of his essay, that, in certain cases, where\nthe evil consequences are out of all proportion to the fault, some other\nmethod than that of experience must be adopted. But, in general, he\nrecommends this method of nature, as he calls it.\n\nFor instance, a child in the nursery has littered the floor with its\ntoys, and after finishing its play refuses to put them away. When next\nthe child asks for its toy box the reply of its mother should be: \"The\nlast time you had your toys you left them lying on the floor and Jane\nhad to pick them up. Jane is too busy to pick up every time the things\nyou leave about, and I cannot do it myself, so that, as you will not put\naway your toys when you have done with them, I cannot let you have\nthem.\" This is obviously a natural consequence and must be so recognized\nby the child.\n\nOr a little girl, Constance by name, is scarcely ever ready in time for\nthe daily walk. The governess and the other children are almost\ninvariably compelled to wait. In the world the penalty of being behind\ntime is the loss of some advantage that one would otherwise have gained.\nThe train is gone, or the steamboat is just leaving its moorings, or the\ngood seats in the concert room are filled; and every one may see that it\nis the prospective deprivation entailed by being late which prevents\npeople from being unpunctual. Should not this prospective deprivation\ncontrol the child's conduct also? If Constance is not ready at the\nappointed time the natural result should be that she is left behind and\nloses her walk.\n\nOr, again, a boy is in the habit of recklessly soiling and tearing his\nclothes. He should be compelled to clean them and to mend the tear as\nwell as he can. And if having no decent clothes to wear, the boy is ever\nprevented from joining the rest of the family on a holiday excursion and\nthe like, it is manifest that he will keenly feel the punishment and\nperceive that his own carelessness is the cause of it.\n\nBut I think it can easily be made clear that this method of moral\ndiscipline should be an exceptional and not a general one, and that\nthere are not a few but many occasions when it becomes simply impossible\nto visit upon children the natural penalties of their transgressions. In\nthese cases the evil consequences are too great or too remote for us to\nallow the child to learn from experience.\n\nA boy is leaning too far out of the window; shall we let him take the\nnatural penalty of his folly? The natural penalty would be to fall and\nbreak his neck. Or a child is about to rush from a heated room into the\ncold street with insufficient covering; shall we let the child take the\nnatural penalty of its heedlessness? The natural penalty might be an\nattack of pneumonia. Or, again, in certain parts of the country it is\nimprudent to be out on the water after nightfall owing to the danger of\nmalaria. A boy who is fond of rowing insists upon going out in his boat\nafter dark; shall we allow him to learn by experience the evil\nconsequences of his act and gain wisdom by suffering the natural\npenalty? The natural penalty might be that he would come home in a\nviolent fever.\n\nTo show how much mischief the application of the Spencerian method might\nwork, let me mention a case which came under my observation. A certain\nteacher had been studying Herbert Spencer and was much impressed with\nhis ideas. One wet, rainy day a number of children came to school\nwithout overshoes. The teacher had often told them that they must wear\ntheir overshoes when it rained; having neglected to do so, their feet\nwere wet. Now came the application of the natural penalty theory.\nInstead of keeping the children near the fire while their shoes were\nbeing dried in the kitchen, they were allowed to run about in their\nstocking feet in the large school hall in order to fix in their minds\nthe idea that, as they had made their shoes unfit to wear, they must now\ngo without them. This was in truth moral discipline with a vengeance.\n\nIt is, in many instances, impossible to let the natural penalties of\ntheir transgressions fall upon children; it would be dangerous to\nhealth, to life and limb, and also to character, to do so.\n\nLet me be perfectly understood just here: I do not deny that the method\nof natural penalties is capable of being applied to advantage in the\nmoral training of children. It is a philosophic conclusion that it can\nbe used as a means of building up the confidence of children in the\nauthority of their parents and educators.\n\nThe father says to his child: \"You must not touch the stove or you will\nbe burned.\" The child disobeys his command and is burned. \"Did I not\nwarn you?\" says the father. \"Do you not see that I was right? Hereafter\nbelieve my words and do not wait to test them in your experience.\" The\ncomparatively few cases in which the child may without injury be made to\nexperience the consequences of his acts should be utilized to strengthen\nits belief in the wisdom and goodness of its parents, so that in an\ninfinitely greater number of cases their authority will act upon the\nmind of the child almost as powerfully as the actual experience of the\nevil consequences would act.\n\nMr. Spencer himself admits, as I have said, that there are what he calls\nextreme cases to which the system he recommends does not apply. In these\nhe falls back upon parental displeasure as the proper penalty. But\nparental displeasure, according to his view, is an indirect and not a\ndirect penalty, and to use his own words, \"the error which we have been\ncombating is that of substituting parental displeasure for the penalties\nwhich nature has established.\" Yet he himself in regard to the graver\noffenses does substitute parental displeasure, and thus abandons his own\nposition.\n\nThere is, moreover, a second ground on which I would rest my criticism.\nThe art of the educator sometimes consists in _deliberately warding off_\nthe natural penalties, though the child knows what they are and perhaps\nexpects to pay them. So far is the method of Spencer from bearing the\ntest of application that the very opposite of what he recommends is\nright in some of the most important instances.\n\nTake the case of lying, for instance. The natural penalty for telling a\nfalsehood is not to be believed the next time, but the real secret of\nmoral redemption consists in not inflicting this penalty. We emphasize\nour belief in the offender despite the fact that he has told a\nfalsehood, we show that we expect him never to tell a falsehood again,\nwe seek to drive the spirit of untruthfulness out of him--by believing\nin him we strengthen him to overcome temptation. And so in many other\ninstances we rescue, we redeem, by not inflicting the natural penalty.\n\nThe task of moral education is laid upon us. It is not a task that can\nbe learned by reading a few scattered essays; it is often a heavy burden\nand involves a constant responsibility. I know it is not right _always_\nto make parents responsible for the faults which appear in their\nchildren. I am well aware that the worst fruit sometimes comes from the\nbest stock, and that black sheep are sometimes to be found in the best\nfamilies. But I cannot help thinking that if these black sheep were\ntaken charge of in the right way in early childhood, the results might\nturn out differently from what they often do. The picture of Jesus on\nwhich the early church loved to dwell is the picture of the good\nshepherd who follows after the lamb that has strayed from the fold, and,\ncarrying it tenderly in his arms, brings it back. I think if parents\nwere more faithful shepherds, and cared for their wayward children with\ndeeper solicitude and tenderness, they might often succeed in winning\nthem back.\n\nBut even apart from these exceptional cases the task of training\nchildren morally is one of immense gravity and difficulty. And how are\nmost parents prepared for the discharge of this task? Why, they are not\nat all prepared. They rely merely upon impulse, and upon traditions\nwhich often are altogether wrong and harmful. They do as they have seen\nother fathers and mothers do, and thus the same mistakes are perpetuated\nfrom generation to generation. Such parents, if they were asked to\nrepair a clock, would say, \"No, we must first learn about the mechanism\nof a clock before we undertake to repair it.\" But the delicate and\ncomplex mechanism of a child's soul they undertake to repair without any\nadequate knowledge of the springs by which it is moved, or of the system\nof adjustments by which it is enabled to perform its highest work. They\nthrust their crude hands into the mechanism and often damage or break it\naltogether.\n\nI do not pretend for a moment that education is as yet a perfect\nscience; I know it is not. I do not pretend that it can give us a great\ndeal of light; but such light as it can give we ought to be all the more\nanxious to obtain on account of the prevailing darkness. The time will\ndoubtless come when the science of education will be acknowledged to be,\nin some sense, the greatest of all the sciences; when, among the\nbenefactors of the race, the great statesmen, the great inventors, and\neven the great reformers will not be ranked as high as the great\neducators.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[1] It is an open question whether light corporal punishment should not\noccasionally be permitted in the case of very young children who have\nnot yet arrived at the age of reason. In this case, at all events, there\nis no danger that the permission will be abused. No one would think of\nseriously hurting a very young child.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n\nIn order that a parent shall properly influence a child's character, it\nis necessary for him to know what that character is, and what the nature\nis of each fault with which he is dealing. I feel almost like asking\npardon for saying anything so self-evident. It seems like saying that a\nphysician who is called to a sick-bed, before beginning to prescribe,\nshould know the nature of the disease for which he is prescribing,\nshould not prescribe for one disease when he is dealing with another.\n\nI do not know enough about physicians to say whether such mistakes ever\nhappen among them; but that such egregious mistakes do occur among\nparents all the time, I am sure. There are many parents who never stop\nto ask before they punish--that is, before they prescribe their moral\nremedies--what the nature of the disease is with which their child is\nafflicted. They never take the trouble to make a diagnosis of the case\nin order to treat it correctly. There is perhaps not one parent in a\nthousand who has a clear idea of the character of his child, or to whom\nit even so much as occurs that he ought to have a clear conception of\nthat character, a map of it, a chart of it, laid out, as it were, in his\nmind. The trouble is that attention is not usually called to this\nimportant matter, and I purpose to make it the special subject of this\naddress.\n\n\n1. OBSTINACY\n\nI am prepared at the outset for the objection that the case against\nparents has been overstated. There are parents who freely acknowledge,\n\"My child is obstinate; I know it has an obstinate character.\" Others\nsay, \"My child, alas! is untruthful.\" Others again declare, \"My child is\nindolent.\"\n\nBut these symptoms are far too indeterminate to base upon them a correct\nreformatory treatment. Such symptoms may be due to a variety of causes,\nand not until we have discovered the underlying cause in any given case\ncan we be sure that we are following the right method.\n\nTake the case, for instance, of obstinacy; a child is told to do a\ncertain thing and it refuses. Now, here is a dilemma. How shall we act?\nThere are those who say: In such cases a child must be chastised until\nit does what it is told. A gentleman who was present here last Sunday\nhad the kindness to send me during the week an edition of John Wesley's\nsermons, and in this volume, in the sermon on \"Obedience to Parents,\" I\nread the following words: \"Break the will if you would not damn the\nchild. I conjure you not to neglect, not to delay this! Therefore (1)\nLet a child from a year old be taught to fear the rod and to cry softly.\nIn order to do this (2) Let him have nothing he cries for, absolutely\nnothing, great or small, else you undo your own work. At all events,\nfrom that age make him do as he is bid, if you whip him ten times\nrunning to effect it. Let none persuade you it is cruelty to do this: it\nis cruelty not to do it. Break his will now, and his soul will live, and\nhe will probably bless you to all eternity.\"\n\nBut by following this line of treatment we may obtain a result the very\nopposite of that which we intended. Obstinacy in many cases is due to\nsensitiveness. There are some children as sensitive to impressions as is\nthat well-known flower which closes its quivering leaves at the\nslightest touch. These sensitive children retreat into themselves at the\nfirst sign of unfriendliness or aggression from without. The reason why\nsuch a child does not obey its father's command is not, perhaps, because\nit is unwilling to do as it is told, but because of the stern face, the\nimpatient gesture, the raised voice with which the parent accompanies\nthe command, and which jars upon the child's feelings.\n\nIf such a parent, incensed at the child's disobedience, becomes still\nmore severe, raises his voice still more, he will only make matters\nworse. The child will shrink from him still more and continue its\npassive resistance. In this manner obstinacy, which was at first only a\npassing spell, may become a fixed trait in the child's character.\n\nTo be sure, we should not, on the other hand, treat these sensitive\nchildren only with caresses. In this way we encourage their\nsensitiveness, whereas we should regard it as a weakness that requires\nto be gradually but steadily overcome.\n\nThe middle way seems the best. Let the parent exact obedience from the\nchild by gentle firmness, by a firmness in which there shall be no trace\nof passion, no heightened feeling, and with a gentleness which, gentle\nas it may be, shall be at the same time unyielding. But while obstinacy\nis sometimes due to softness of nature, it is at other times due to the\nopposite--to hardness of nature, and according to the case we should\nvary our treatment.\n\nThere are persons who, having once made up their minds to do a thing,\ncannot be moved from their resolution by any amount of persuasion. These\nhard natures, these concentrated wills, are bound to have their way, no\nmatter whom they injure, no matter what stands in the way. Such\npersons--and we notice the beginnings of this trait in children--need to\nbe taught to respect the rights of others. Their wills should\noccasionally be allowed to collide with the wills of others, in order\nthat they may discover that there are other wills limiting theirs, and\nmay learn the necessary lesson of submission.\n\nIn yet other cases obstinacy is due to stupidity. Persons of weak\nintelligence are apt to be suspicious. Not understanding the motives of\nothers, they distrust them; unwilling to follow the guidance of others,\nthey cling with a sort of desperation to their own purpose. These cases\nmay be treated by removing the cause of suspicion, by patiently\nexplaining one's motives where it is possible to do so, by awakening\nconfidence.\n\n\n2. UNTRUTHFULNESS\n\nAgain, let us take the fault of untruthfulness. One cannot sufficiently\ncommend the watchfulness of those parents who take alarm at the\nslightest sign of falsehood in a child. A lie should always put us on\nour guard. The arch fiend is justly called \"the father of lies.\" The\nhabit of falsehood, when it has become settled, is the sure inlet to\nworse vices.\n\nAt the same time not all falsehoods are equally culpable or equally\nindicative of evil tendency, and we should have a care to discriminate\nbetween the different causes of falsehood in the young child, in order\nthat we may pursue the proper treatment. Sometimes falsehood is due to\nredundant imagination, especially in young children who have not yet\nlearned to distinguish between fact and fancy. In such cases we may\nrestrain the child's imagination by directing its attention to the world\nof fact, by trying to interest it in natural history and the like.\n\nWe should especially set the example of strict accuracy ourselves in all\nour statements, no matter how unimportant they may be. For instance, if\nwe narrate certain occurrences in the presence of the child, we should\nbe careful to observe the exact order in which the events occurred, and\nif we have made a mistake we should take pains to correct ourselves,\nthough the order of occurrence is really immaterial. Precisely because\nit is immaterial we show by this means how much we value accuracy even\nin little things.\n\nThen, again, falsehood is often due to the desire for gain. Or it may be\ndue to fear. The child is afraid of the severity of the parent's\ndiscipline. In that case we are to blame; we must relax our discipline.\nWe have no business to tempt the child into falsehood. Again,\nuntruthfulness is often due to mistaken sympathy, as we see in the case\nof pupils in school, who will tell a falsehood to shield a fellow\npupil. In the worst cases falsehood is inspired by malice.\n\nIt may be said that the proper positive treatment for this fault is to\nset the example of the strictest truthfulness ourselves, to avoid the\nlittle falsehoods which we sometimes allow ourselves without\ncompunction, to show our disgust at a lie, to fill the child with a\nsense of the baseness of lying, and above all to find out the direct\ncause which has tempted the child in any given case. As a rule,\nfalsehood is only a means to an end; children do not tell untruths\nbecause they like to tell them, but because they have some ulterior end\nin view. Find out what that ulterior end is, and instead of directing\nyour attention only to the lie, penetrate to the motive that has led the\nchild into falsehood, and try to divert it from the bad end. Thus you\nmay extract the cause of its wrongdoing.\n\n\n3. LAZINESS\n\nThirdly, let us consider the fault of laziness. Laziness is sometimes\ndue to physical causes. Nothing may be necessary but a change of diet,\nexercise in the fresh air, etc., to cure the evil. Sometimes it is the\nsign of a certain slow growth of the mind. There are fruits in the\ngarden of the gods that ripen slowly, and these fruits are often not the\nleast precious or the least beautiful when they finally have matured.\nSir Isaac Newton's mind was one of these slowly ripening fruits. In\nschool he was regarded as a dullard and his teachers had small hopes of\nhim.\n\nLaziness, like other faults of character, sometimes disappears in the\nprocess of growth. Just as at a certain period in the life of a youth or\nmaiden new faculties seem to develop, new passions arise, a new life\nbegins to stir in the heart, so at a certain period qualities with which\nwe had long been familiar, disappear of themselves.\n\nWe have very little light upon this subject, but the fact that a great\ntransformation of character sometimes does take place in children\nwithout any perceptible cause is quite certain, and it may be offered as\na comforting reflection to those parents who are over-anxious on account\nof the faults they detect in their children. But again, on the other\nhand, laziness or untruthfulness or obstinacy may be a black streak,\ncoming to the surface out of the nethermost strata of moral depravity,\nand, taken in connection with other traits, may justify the most serious\napprehension, and should then be a signal for immediate measures of the\nmost stringent sort.\n\n\n4. DISCOVERING CAUSES\n\nI am thus led to the second branch of my subject. I have tried to meet\nthe objection of the parent who says, \"I know the character of my child;\nI know my child is obstinate,\" by replying, \"If you only know that your\nchild is obstinate you know very little; you need to know what are the\ncauses of his obstinacy, and vary your treatment accordingly.\" Or if any\none says, \"My child is untruthful,\" I reply, \"You need to find out what\nthe cause is of this untruthfulness and vary your treatment\naccordingly.\" Or again, in the case which we have just considered, I\nhave pointed out that laziness in a child may have no serious meaning\nwhatever or may give just cause for the most serious alarm, according to\nthe group of characteristic traits of which it is one. On this point I\nwish to lay stress. If you desire to obtain a correct impression of a\nhuman face, you do not look at the eye by itself, then at the nose, then\nfix your attention on the cheeks and the chin and the brow, but you\nregard all these features together and view them in their relations to\none another. Or let us recur to the simile of the physician. What would\nyou think of the doctor who should judge the nature of a disease by\nsome one symptom which happened to obtrude itself, or should treat each\nsymptom as it appears separately, without endeavoring to reach the\noccult cause which has given rise to the symptoms, of which they are all\nbut the outward manifestation?\n\nAnd yet that is precisely the incredible mistake which every one of us,\nI venture to say, is apt to make in the treatment of children's\ncharacters. We judge of them by some one trait, as obstinacy, which\nhappens to obtrude itself on our attention, and we prescribe for each\nsymptom as it arises; we treat obstinacy by itself, and untruthfulness\nand indolence separately, without endeavoring to get at the underlying\ncause of all these symptoms. The point I desire to make is that in the\neducation of our children it is necessary not only to study individual\ntraits, but _each trait in connection with the group to which it\nbelongs_.\n\nTake for an illustration the case last mentioned--that of laziness.\nThere is a well-known type group or group of characteristic traits, of\nwhich laziness is one. The chief components of this group are the\nfollowing: The sense of shame is wanting, that is one trait. The will is\nunder the control of random impulses, good impulses mingle\nhelter-skelter with bad. There is an indisposition on the part of such a\nchild to prolonged exertion in any direction, even in the direction of\npleasure. That is perhaps the most dangerous trait of all.\n\nIf you try to deal, as people actually do, with each of these traits\nseparately, you will fail. If you try to influence the sense of shame,\nyou will meet with no response; if you disgrace such a child, you will\nmake it worse; if you whip it, you will harden it. If you attempt to\novercome indolence by the promise of rewards, that will be useless. The\nchild forgets promised rewards just as quickly as it forgets threatened\npunishment.\n\nThis forgetfulness, this lack of coherency in its ideas, is particularly\ncharacteristic. The ideas of such a child are imperfectly connected.\nThe ties between causes and their effects are feeble. The contents of\nthe child's mind are in a state of unstable equilibrium. There is no\npoint of fixity in its mental realm. And the cure for such a condition\nis to establish fixity in the thoughts, to induce habits of industry and\napplication by steady, unrelaxing discipline, and especially by means of\nmanual training.\n\nThe immense value of mechanical labor as a means of moral improvement\nhas been appreciated until now only to a very imperfect extent.\nMechanical labor wisely directed secures mental fixity because it\nconcentrates the child's attention for days and often for weeks upon a\nsingle task. Mechanical labor stimulates moral pride by enabling the\npupil to produce articles of value and giving him in this way the sense\nof achievement. Mechanical labor also overcomes indolence by compelling\nsettled habits of industry, whereby the random impulses of the will are\nbrought under control.\n\nThe type group which we have just considered is one of the most clearly\nmarked and easily recognized. It is a type which we often meet with\namong the so-called criminal classes, where its characteristic features\ncan be seen in exaggerated proportions. Without attempting to analyze\nany additional types (a task of great delicacy and difficulty), the\ntruth that the underlying fault of character is often unlike the\nsymptoms which appear most conspicuously on the surface may be further\nillustrated by the following example. I have known of a person who made\nhimself obnoxious to his friends by his overbearing manners and apparent\narrogance. Casual observers condemned him on account of what they\nbelieved to be his overweening self-confidence, and expressed the\nopinion that his self-conceit ought to be broken down. But the real\ntrouble with him was not that he was too self-confident, but that he had\nnot self-confidence enough. His self-confidence needed to be built up.\nHe was overbearing in society because he did not trust himself, because\nhe was always afraid of not being able to hold his own, and hence he\nexaggerated on the other side. Those who take such a person to be in\nreality what he seems to be will never be able to influence him. If we\nfind such a trait in a child, and simply treat it as if it were\narrogant, we shall miss the mark entirely. We must find the underlying\nprinciple of the character the occult cause of which the surface\nsymptoms are the effects.\n\nOur knowledge of the great type groups is as yet extremely meager.\nPsychology has yet to do its work in this direction, and books on\neducation give us but little help. But there are certain means by which\nthe task of investigation may possibly be assisted. One means is the\nstudy of the plays of Shakespeare. That master mind has created certain\ntypes of character which repay the closest analysis. The study of the\nbest biographies is a second means. The study of the moral\ncharacteristics of the primitive races--a study which has been begun by\nHerbert Spencer in his work on Descriptive Sociology, and by Waitz in\nhis Anthropologie der Naturvoelker--is perhaps another means; and honest\nintrospection, when it shall have become the rule among intelligent\npersons, instead of being the exception, will probably be the best\nmeans.\n\nI am afraid that some of my hearers, from having been over-confident as\neducators in the beginning, may now have become over-timid; from having\nsaid to themselves, \"Why, of course we know the characteristics of our\nchildren,\" may now, since the difficulties of studying character have\nbeen explained, be disposed to exclaim in a kind of despair, \"Who can\never understand the character of a single human being?\" A perfect\nunderstanding of any human being is indeed impossible. We do not\nperfectly know even those who are nearest and dearest to us. But there\nare means of reaching at least approximate results, so far as children\nare concerned, and a few of these permit me to briefly summarize.\n\nTry to win the confidence of the child so that it may disclose its\ninner life to you. Children accept the benefactions of their parents as\nunthinkingly as they breathe the air around them. Show them that your\ncare and untiring devotion must be deserved, not taken as a matter of\ncourse. In this way you will deepen their attachment and lead them to\nwillingly open their hearts to you. At the same time enter into the\nlesser concerns of their life. Be their comrades, their counselors;\nstoop to them, let them cling to you.\n\nObserve your children when they are at play, for it is then that they\nthrow off their reserve and show themselves as they are. Some children,\nfor instance, will not join a game unless they can be leaders; is not\nthat a sign of character? Some children will take an unfair advantage at\nplay, and justify themselves by saying, \"It is only in play.\" Some are\npersistent in a game while others tire of any game after a little while.\nOthers are sticklers for a strict observance of the rules. Observe how\nyour sons or daughters are regarded by their companions; children are\noften wonderfully quick to detect one another's faults.\n\nTry to find out what the favorite pursuits and studies of your child\nare, by what it is repelled, by what attracted, and to what it is\nindifferent. Above all, keep a record of your child's development. Do\nnot shun the labor involved in this. You know very well that nothing\nworth having can be obtained without labor, yet most parents are\nunwilling to give sufficient time and attention to the education of\ntheir children. Keep a record of the most significant words and acts of\nthe child. Thus after a while you may have a picture of the child's\ninward condition before you, an assemblage of characteristic traits, and\nby comparing one trait with another, you may find the clue to a deeper\nunderstanding of its nature.\n\nWhat I have said about children applies equally to ourselves. I started\nout by saying that not one parent in a thousand knows his child's\ncharacter. I conclude by saying that not one man or woman in a thousand\nknows his or her own character. We go through life cherishing an unreal\nconception of ourselves which is often inspired by vanity.\n\nI am well aware that it is difficult to know oneself, but there are\nhelps in this direction also. We can look over our own past record, we\ncan honestly examine how we have acted in the leading crises of our\nlives, we can summon our own characteristic traits before our minds--the\nthings that we like to dwell upon, and the things which we would gladly\nblot out of our memories if we could--and by comparing this trait with\nthat, we may discover the springs by which we have been moved. It is\ndifficult to attain self-knowledge, but it is imperative that we should\ntry to attain it. The aim of our existence is to improve our characters,\nand clearly we cannot improve them unless we know them.\n\nI have undertaken to grapple with a most difficult subject, but I shall\nhave accomplished the purpose which I had in mind if I have awakened in\nyou a deeper desire to ask yourselves, first, \"What is the character of\nmy child?\" and, second, \"What is my own character?\" The most serious\nbusiness of our lives is to try to find the answers to these two\nquestions.\n\n\n\n\nTHE AMERICAN HOME SERIES\n\nNORMAN B. RICHARDSON, Editor\n\n\n1. THE NATION'S CHALLENGE TO THE HOME\n\n2. HOW ONE REAL MOTHER LIVES WITH HER CHILDREN\n\n3. PARENTHOOD AND HEREDITY\n\n4. THE ROOTS OF DISPOSITION AND CHARACTER\n\n5. THE FIRST YEAR IN A BABY'S LIFE\n\n6. THUMB-SUCKING\n\n7. THE EDUCATION OF THE BABY UNTIL IT IS ONE YEAR OLD\n\n8. FIRST STEPS TOWARDS CHARACTER\n\n9. THE SECOND AND THIRD YEARS\n\n10. THE EDUCATION OF THE CHILD DURING THE SECOND AND THIRD YEARS\n\n11. THE MOTHER AS PLAYFELLOW (YEARS ONE, TWO, AND THREE)\n\n12. THE PROBLEMS OF TEMPER\n\n13. THE PROBLEMS OF FIGHTING\n\n14. THE GOVERNMENT OF YOUNG CHILDREN\n\n15. THE PUNISHMENT OF CHILDREN\n\n16. THE HOME KINDERGARTEN\n\n17. THE RELIGIOUS NURTURE OF A LITTLE CHILD (YEARS FOUR AND FIVE)\n\n18. THE NERVOUS CHILD\n\n19. ON TRUTH TELLING AND THE PROBLEM OF CHILDREN'S LIES\n\n20. THE GOVERNMENT OF CHILDREN BETWEEN SIX AND TWELVE\n\n21. THE DRAMATIC INSTINCT IN CHILDREN\n\n22. DRAMATICS IN THE HOME\n\n23. TABLE TALK IN THE HOME\n\n24. SUNDAY IN THE HOME\n\n25. A YEAR OF GOOD SUNDAYS\n\n26. THE PICTURE-HOUR IN THE HOME\n\n27. STORY-TELLING IN THE HOME\n\n28. MUSIC IN THE HOME\n\n29. TRAINING IN THRIFT\n\n30. \"WHAT TO SAY\" IN TELLING THE STORY OF LIFE'S RENEWAL\n\n31. SEX DISCIPLINE FOR BOYS IN THE HOME\n\n32. YOUTH'S OUTLOOK UPON LIFE\n\n33. BUILDING FOR WOMANHOOD\n\n34. RHYTHM AND RECREATION\n\n35. THE HOME AND MOVING PICTURES.\n\n36. WORSHIP IN THE HOME.\n\n37. THE USE OF DOLLS IN CHILD-TRAINING.\n\n\nPRICES WILL BE FURNISHED ON APPLICATION","title":"The Punishment of Children","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":12526}