SECTION IIITRAINING

If there is a defect in Herbart’s scheme of interests as a guide to the selection of the studies of the curriculum, it lies in the fact that the interests named are too exclusively applied to the pupil’s individual life, and not enough to his life as a member of the social whole. There is an important sense in which even natural science, which may be expected to cultivate the speculative interests, is social; for science becomestruly significant only when it contributes to the service of men. The fact that we now live in an industrial age, that life is preserved from disease in so large a measure, that the well-being of every community is advancing so rapidly, that universal education is now a fact rather than a dream, is due to the application of science to human welfare. Consequently, we are not restricted to a few humanitarian topics, like history and literature, for the development of our social interests. We find that every study has its sociological as well as its personal bearings. On the other hand, since all studies are both subjective and objective in the interests they arouse, it would be possible to awaken all the six classes of interest enumerated by teaching but a fraction of what we now consider needful in a good curriculum. It would seem, therefore, that the six classes of interest, at best, indicate what thequalityof our teaching should be, not with sufficient accuracywhatsubjects should be taught. The latter is determined quite as much by social as by psychological needs.

SECTION IIITRAININGCHAPTER IThe Relation of Training to Government and to Instruction

136.Traininglooks toward the pupil’s future. It is founded on hope, and shows itself, to begin with, in patience. It tempers government, the object of which might perhaps be realized more speedily by greater rigor. It moderates even instruction in case the latter puts too great a strain upon the pupil. But it also combines with government as well as instruction, and lightens their work.

Training consists primarily in a certain personal attitude, identical if possible with a kind way of treating pupils. This implies readiness on the part of the teacher to listen to the wishes and utterances of the pupil, who, in the midst of strangers, looks to his teacher (and to the family in charge of his education) for sympathy and support. But training becomes active where the pupil needs help, especiallyhelp against his own weaknesses and faults, which might frustrate the hopes centred in him.

137.Training insists on becoming conduct; it encourages cheerfulness of disposition. In either case it remains within limits compatible with the occupations connected with government and instruction. The pupil is never to lose sight of the subject on which he is engaged; it would be bad if a desire to show off, or to amuse himself, should take possession of him and cause him to forget his work.

The wise teacher will be glad to make himself personally agreeable to his pupil as long as the conduct of the latter does not call for the opposite treatment. Supervision grows less irksome in consequence. Gentle words forestall, if anything can, all severer measures.

138.The teacher does not look upon the progress resulting from his teaching with feelings of indifference. His sympathy, even solicitude it may be, coöperates powerfully with the greater or lesser degree of interest awakened in the learner. Training, however, can never be made a substitute where there is no interest or, worse still, where indifference has become positive dislike.

139.In instruction the presence of interest cannot be simply assumed; just as little can good intentions on the pupil’s part always be presupposed in training. One thing, however, must be taken for granted: thepupil must not have come to feel that the discipline is weak and the instruction poor. Any defect in either direction must therefore be traced to its source and remedied. When pupils feel free to do as they please, when they think they have good cause to blame the teacher for their failure to make progress, his manner will be of no avail; and futile attempts only make matters worse.

140.In some cases training becomes blended with government to such an extent that it can scarcely be distinguished from the latter. As an example, we may mention the large educational institutions conducted on a military basis, where the individual pupil is carried along by the general system, rather than made the object of special care. In other cases, training and government remain farther apart than is necessary; an instance of this is when a strict father keeps himself at a distance, and leaves the business of training, within the prescribed rigid limits, to the tutor of his children. At all events, a distinction must be made between the two concepts, training and government, in order that the teacher may know what he is doing, and may notice what is perhaps lacking; we are justified in adding, in order that he may save himself useless effort. For training is not uniformly effectual, regardless of circumstances; the teacher needs to be watchful in this matter in order that the opportune moment for doing what can be done may not escape him.

141.Whilethe aim of instruction was rendered sufficiently determinate, as we saw above (17,64,65), by the injunction, be perfect, the aim of training, which supplements educative instruction, comprehends virtue as a whole. Now virtue is an ideal, the approximation toward which is denoted by the termmorality. Again, since, generally speaking, a child passes on from mere capacity for culture to culture itself, from the indeterminate to fixedness of knowledge, the approximation to virtue consists likewise in development toward stability. Where conduct in moral affairs vacillates, there is a deficiency; where something morally hateful becomes confirmed, there is a defect. Excluding both, we define the aim of training properly as moral strength of character.

“Training” means such will-training as conduces to the formation of good character; “government” means such training as conduces to good order. The first is for a permanent, the second for an immediate, purpose. In government we can appeal both to a positive and a negative means. The positive means is interest in a study and the affairs of the schoolroom;the negative means is inhibition of disturbing impulses. As Professor James, in his “Talks on Psychology,”[13]points out, this inhibition may be of two sorts,—that of forcible suppression, and that of substitution. A teacher who uses negative means of inhibiting mischief or inattention, employs command or punishment. This method, though sometimes seemingly unavoidable, often results in mental strain, if not permanent alienation between teacher and pupil. The method of substitution attempts to secure inhibition of the undesirable state of mind by giving rise to a set of favorable ideas strong enough to displace it. “If, without saying anything about the street disturbances,” which may be distracting the attention of your pupils, “you open a counter attraction by starting some very interesting talk or demonstration yourself, they will altogether forget the distracting incident, and, without any effort, follow you along.” Training, however, has a more difficult task. It must succeed in implanting what may be called regulative principles in the mind. It must furthermore succeed in establishing habits of conduct that will enable the pupil to become self-governing. That is, we must establish in him habits of feeling and action that will enable him to substitute the higher for the lower good, or, at least, instantly to inhibit the temptation to evil. This is a task not for a day or a year, but for the whole school period.

[13]James, “Talks on Psychology,” p. 193, Henry Holt & Co., New York, 1899.

142.In succeeding chapters character and moral conduct will each have to be differentiated more minutely. For our present purpose we need only to remind ourselves that the determinateness of the will, which is called character, depends not only on willing,but also on not willing. The latter is either a deficient or a denying willing, which repels or rejects. Stern methods of governing, which bar access to everything that might lead astray, are likely to produce a deficient will rather than the permanence of formed strength; with the end of school days, the dreaded opportunities arrive after all, and the pupil may quickly undergo a change beyond recognition. The task of training must therefore be thought of as embracing both affirmative willing and rejecting.

143.Ourwill activities result from ideas. Different masses of ideas give rise to different will action; hence the difficulty experienced in harmonizing and unifying the manifold acts of will.

The various groups of ideas do not simply succeed one another in consciousness; the relation of one to the other may also be that of apperception. Apperceiving attention is not confined to sense-perception (77); it embraces inner perception as well. The process of apperception, however, consists rarely or never in mere perceiving. It involves more: one mass of ideas exerts a determining influence on the other. Now, since each may be the source of will action, it happens that often one act of will accepts or rejects another. Again, conscious of himself preëminently as a being that wills, man gives commands to himself and decides concerning himself; he seeks to acquire self-control. In such efforts he makes himself more and more the object of his own observation. That part of his will activity which his self-observation reveals to be already in existence, we call theobjective part of character. To the new will action, on the other hand, which first springs into existence in and with self-examination, we give the name subjective part of character.

The subjective side of character can attain its full development only during the years of maturity. Its beginnings, however, reach back into boyhood, and its normal growth during adolescence is noticeably rapid, due allowance being made for variations of kind and degree in different individuals.

The assumption of the unconditional primacy of ideas can no longer be seriously entertained. Just as there is an unfolding of ideas in sensation, perception, apperception, and rational insight, so there is an unfolding of our volitional life in impulse, conscious will action, and the control of conduct in accordance with the regulative principles of moral obligation. Knowledge and will doubtless spring from a common root, but they are not primarily so related that volition waits on knowledge. Impulse is antecedent to idea, while in the last analysis and in the highest realm of mind, theactualis subordinate to theideal, theoughtis more powerful than theis. In other words, there is, as Dr. Harris maintains, a sense in which the will is self-determining, even though the extent to which this self-active control obtains is uncertain. As Natorp says,[14]“It is folly to call upon the weak to be strong, to concentrate consciousness upon the categorical imperative, so that the inflexible demands of the ought shall be complied with.” Yet even in the weak there is a bar of consciousness or perhaps consciencebefore which judgment must be pronounced as to the worthiness or unworthiness of a given line of conduct. It is the function of moral education—and this includes all education—to make the weak strong, to strengthen the good impulses, to clarify the insight, to accustom the mind to dwell on the right set of ideas, to cultivate desirable feelings and interests. In this process of moral development, the world of ideas has perhaps all the validity claimed for it by Herbart. What is here called the “subjective” side of character pertains to that regulation of conduct which arises from its examination before the bar of consciousness as to its agreement or disagreement with the regulative principles of moral obligation. It is that advanced stage of development in character in which the mind is consciously self-directive. Naturally it is later than the “objective” side, where action is more spontaneous, more governed by impulses, more subject to hypnotic suggestion; in short, more subordinated to “ideo-motor” activity and less governed by reflection.

[14]Natorp, “Socialpädagogik,” p. 9, tr. Fromman, Stuttgart, 1899.

144.In view of the very manifold volitional elements which the objective foundations of character may obviously contain, it will facilitate a survey if we distinguish (1) that which the pupil does or does not endure willingly, (2) that which he does or does not long to have, (3) that which he does or does not like to do. Now one, now the other class predominates, the strongest controlling and restricting the rest. But this restriction is not always an easy matter. Accordingly the objective phase of character attains at first to inner harmony only with difficulty.

145.In consequence of frequent repetitions of similar acts of will, general concepts are gradually formed in the subjective side of character, concepts comprehending both the similar will actions already present under similar circumstances, and the requirements man sets up for himself with a view to determining his willing one way or another.

These requirements fall largely within the province of prudence; they pertain to forethought and cautious reserve, or, may be, to action, in order that an end may be gained by the choice of suitable means. The boy wants to be wiser than the child; the youth wiser than either. In this way man seeks to rise above himself.

146.Moral conduct is not always furthered by man’s effort to surpass himself, so that the teacher’s task becomes a twofold one,—a watching and directing not only of the objective but also of the subjective side of character. Temperament, native bent, habit, desire, and passion fall under the former; to the latter belong the frankness or cunning displayed by the pupil, and his habitual method of practical reasoning.

147.As a rule, we may consider it auspicious for character building if the pupil, instead of being swayed by moods and whims, is constant in his willing. Such uniformity as requires no effort we may designate by the expression memory of will.

When a pupil possesses this natural advantage, the objective part of his character easily arrives at harmony with itself. He sees that among his many preferences relative to enduring, having, doing, one imposes restrictions upon the other; that it is often necessary to submit and endure in order to have and do that which is desired; that pursuits of which he is fond do not always yield what he longs to have, and so on. When these truths have become sufficiently clear to him, he soon comes to a point where he decides which things he cares about a great deal, and which less. He chooses, and choice largely determines character, primarily character in its objective aspects.

In the course of the development of the subjective part of character, there are formed in succession resolves, maxims, and principles, a process involving subsumptions, conclusions, and motives. It will cost many a struggle before these motives can assert themselves.

The strength of a character depends on the agreement between its two parts, the objective and the subjective. Where there is want of accord, the character is weak. But both must be morally good; where that is not the case, strength ceases to be desirable.

148.Pupilsat once active and kindly are not rare, and so far as the ideas of perfection and good-will are concerned, give rise to no anxiety, at least not at first. With a firm government, moreover, they are easily induced to make the golden rule their own, and they soon become disposed to yield in contention, or rather, become more careful about picking a quarrel. Accordingly, with reference also to equity and justice, they cause little anxiety. In time they gain mental balance, the basis of genuine self-control, and are now on the road to inner freedom. In short, they are in possession of that which, in the light of fundamental ethical ideas, constitutes morality.

But these constituents of moral conduct are not found together in every one, nor do they always remain together. Side by side with the praiseworthy traits mentioned, others of an opposite nature frequently manifest themselves; it becomes evident that the latter are not excluded, and thus the former do not determine the character.

149.In order to exclude the morally evil, the praiseworthytraits of the objective side of character need to be reinforced by the good resolutions of the subjective part.

These resolutions, to be worth anything morally, must rest on that theoretical judgment whereby the pupil through examples comes to distinguish between better and worse in willing. As long as his judging lacks clearness, energy, and completeness, his resolutions are without a foundation in his mind and heart. They are hardly more than memorized words.

When, on the other hand, the theoretical judgment has become interwoven with the totality of interest growing out of experience, social intercourse, and instruction, it creates a warm affection for the good wherever found, an affection which influences not only all of the pupil’s efforts of will, but also the manner in which he assimilates what instruction and life henceforth offer.

150.Finally, in order to fortify moral decisions, we must avail ourselves of the assistance derived from the logical cultivation of maxims, from the systematic unification of the same, and from their constant application in life.

Here the organic connection between character growth and the formation of habits of reflection becomes apparent; training is, therefore, obviously unable to accomplish its work except in conjunction with instruction.

As soon as a pupil gets a clear notion that a presented ideal of conduct promotes the true realization of his own being, he is in a position to acquire an interest in reaching that ideal. An end, hitherto remote, comes nearer, so that it begins to exercise influence upon the conduct that leads to it. Convention, appeal, or even compulsion from without, are now reinforced by the good resolutions arising from the pupil’s own subjective states. Here we see the interaction of intellectual and emotional capacities. The intellect perceives relations, thus bringing into consciousness a new ideal; this distant end is mediated inasmuch as desire or feeling impels the pupil to enter upon a course of conduct whose stages lead to the ideal goal.[15]

[15]See Dewey, “Interest as Related to Will,” reprint by the National Herbart Society for 1899, pp. 15–16.

151.Thefunction of training does not consist, it is true, in always restraining and meddling; still less in ingrafting the practices of others to take the place of the pupil’s self-activity. Nevertheless, refusal and permission are so much a part of training that the pupil becomes far more dependent through training than mere government could make him. In government a few rules may be enforced very strictly, while in other respects the boy is left to himself; in training a similar relaxation of vigilance is scarcely ever permissible. Only the strongest grounds for confidence in a pupil would justify such a course.

The watchful teacher, even without aiming to do so, always shows some degree of approbation or dissatisfaction. In many cases this is all that is necessary; at times, with sensitive pupils, even this is too much. Unaccustomed censure hurts them more than was intended, while no evidence, however slight, of approval, escapes their notice. The teacher should be considerate in his treatment of such sensibility.

152.With regard to restraint of freedom, keennessof sensibility is more common. In this connection another point also calls for consideration. Freedom is of the utmost direct importance to formation of character, provided it issues in well-weighed and successful action. For from success springs the confidence of will whereby desire ripens into decision. Where rational action may be looked for, freedom of action must be granted; where the opposite is true, the early appearance of a vivid consciousness of self-activity is fraught with danger.

Frequent censure and curtailment of freedom generally blunt sensibility, rather more, however, sensibility to words than to restrictions. Accordingly, where repetition of censure is necessary, the language may and should vary. On the other hand, the teacher’s practice with respect to permission and prohibition must, where possible, be felt to be permanent, even if it were only to confine the granting of the same permission to stated times, in accordance with an adopted habit. Lack of uniformity, except for obvious reasons, impresses pupils as arbitrariness and caprice; fixed limits are endured more easily.

153.The sensibilities are irritated least by mere directions, by daily reminding, by calls at the appointed hour, without words of reproach. There are numerous details of daily life which must be placed under the rule of order, but it would be unwise to make more of them than they deserve. Sharp reprimands oughtnot to be wasted on petty acts of negligence; they are needed for important things. Rules must be obeyed; but a light punishment, one that does not wound the feelings, is more suitable here than harsh words could be.

154.Closely related to the foregoing is the cultivation of habits that imply endurance, or the bearing of deprivation without murmur, or even an inuring to positive hardships. In efforts tending in this direction it is not sufficient merely to refrain from hurting the pupil’s feelings; youthful good humor and love of fun must be allowed free expression besides.

155.Mischievous consequences follow if children become accustomed to frequent, unnecessary gratification of desires, or to a round of artificial pleasures which include neither work nor exercise. To mention only one such consequence, the attendant blunting of the sensibilities renders ineffectual numerous minor aids of training which may be employed to good advantage with unspoiled children. It takes little to give children a great variety of pleasures when great moderation is a matter of daily practice, and for this very reason we need to husband, as it were, our resources for giving enjoyment, in order that much may be accomplished with little. Harmless games, particularly, should not be spoiled for children by making them feel that they must cultivate the staid behavior of adults. Their own ambition fills them only tooearly with the desire to appear no longer as children.

156.The good teacher’s watchfulness will extend even to petty details, which may indeed prove momentous enough in his little world. These are not so important, however, as the mutual relations of the coöperating factors:—

157.The outcome is uncertain in the case of those aids to training whose effect on the sensibilities of the pupils cannot be foreseen. Some of them are, nevertheless, well worth trying, final judgment being suspended until after the result has been observed. Under this head belong especially the strictly pedagogical punishments and rewards which are patterned after the natural consequences of doing or not doing. The boy who comes late loses the anticipated enjoyment; if he destroys his things, he must do without them; over-indulgence is followed by bitter medicine; tattling by removal from the circle in which matters requiring discretion are discussed, etc. Such punishments do not subserve moral improvement, but they warn and teach a lesson. To what extent they will do so we are often unable to tell beforehand; a profitable reminiscence may be retained at all events.

The discipline of consequences has been much emphasized by Herbert Spencer in his “Education.” Its limited usefulness in moral training is pointed out in the foregoing section. Acting like a mechanical law, it tends to have the same effect upon the feelings that a physical law has. How could one’s moral sensibilities be impressed by the law of gravitation? Nature makes us prudent, but scarcely good.

158.Sometimes the question is how to set pupils on the right track again. They have grown listless, for instance, or pursue their tasks with reluctance. Here we may profitably resort to a sudden interruptionby a change of employment. It happens occasionally that pupils, physically strong, are guilty of very bad behavior that persists in spite of admonitions and punishments, or reappears in another form, but which is, after all, at bottom, only the result of a state of ill humor that can easily be corrected. An unexpected, trifling present, an unusual act of attention, will very likely break down the pupil’s reserve, and when the cause of the trouble has once been ascertained, it will be possible to discover a remedy.

159.In the case of those that are weak physically, furtherance of health combined with persevering patience is the first and chief duty. But kindness should not degenerate into weak indulgence; on the other hand, close supervision must take the place of every form of harsh treatment.

160.Thedistinctions relative to character and morality (143–150) furnish the thread of reflection on this subject. Concisely stated, the function of training is to support, to determine, and to regulate; to keep the pupil, on the whole, in a tranquil and serene frame of mind; to arouse him occasionally by approval and reproof; to remind at the proper moment, and to correct faults. A more definite significance will be imparted to this brief summary by a comparative study and application of the ideas analyzed in the preceding chapters.

While we may accept the statement that the function of training is to support, to determine, and to regulate, we must not forget to ask: To what end shall it do these things? The answer is, that though the means of moral training are always psychological, the ends are always social. Support must hold the pupil up to social standards, the directive power of the teacher must be exercised for social ends, while all regulation of the pupil’s activities must point to the same result. There is scarcely a virtue to be named that does not find its ultimate meaning in its application to conduct as affecting others. This is true even in primitive society. In modern urban societyit is not only true, but vastly important. The discussion in Chapter VI is psychological throughout. It must be the purpose of the annotation to point out the social implications.

161.First, what is meant by the supporting activity of training becomes clearer if we recall the remarks made concerning memory of the will (147) as opposed to the thoughtlessness usually ascribed to youth. The thoughtless boy does not remember past acts of will. He stands in need of being supported by training. This, further analysis shows, is done in two ways: by holding him back from the wrong course, and by holding him up to the right course.

Training presupposes an efficient government and the obedience consequent to it. By implication, the pupil would not dare to disobey a command if given. But commands ought to be employed sparingly, and only when inevitable. Imposed too frequently, they would preclude self-development; if given to adolescents for any but obvious and urgent reasons, obedience would not long continue. In short, government acts at intervals. But the pupil cannot be permitted to live in a state of lawless liberty in the meantime. He must remain sensible, be it ever so little, of certain limits which he is not allowed to overstep. This result is the aim of the supporting function of training.

But the pupil, even though he be generally obedient, does not obey every one, nor under all circumstances, nor always fully, promptly, and withoutopposition; and when he once fails to comply with gentle words, he will be still less ready to yield to a severe manner toward himself. Of course, the teacher must know on what support he may depend; the father needs to have made up his mind how far he would be willing to go with coercive measures if necessary; the private tutor, to what extent he may count on the backing of parents; the teacher in a public institution, how far his course of action would be upheld by his superiors. But all this involves an appeal from training to government, a step to be avoided as much as possible. Most of the unpleasant cases of intractability, where recourse to government becomes unavoidable, are the gradual result of continued weak indulgence. Of such cases no account is taken here, and justly so, since, apart from all else, even defiant obstinacy, provided restraint has not been cast off utterly, soon breaks down and gives way to remorse when it is met by serious and deliberate firmness.

The most obvious ways that the school has of securing a good “memory of will” are those by which it enforces the well-known school virtues,—regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry. It is to the acquisition of these habits that the government, or discipline, of the school is chiefly directed. Dr. Wm. T. Harris has pointed out in detail the significance of this acquisition in the development of character.[16]It is interestingto note how the teacher’s personal authority is reinforced by social pressure both within and without the school. The Superintendent of a city of thirteen thousand inhabitants reports that but 1462 cases of tardiness occurred during a whole school year. The pupils of each room are given a brief holiday, from time to time, provided nobody in that room is tardy during the stated period. This brings an immense social pressure within the school to bear in securing prompt attendance. Happening to visit the Superintendent’s office in a city of some sixty thousand people, the writer observed the following scene: A young girl of perhaps fourteen years of age, accompanied by her father, who was a foreigner, unable to speak English fluently, entered the office. The girl began at once to make excuses for her brother who was a somewhat confirmed truant, and to beg that he might be excused and reinstated. To objections stated by the Superintendent, the father with much emotion replied, “Oh, Mr. Superintendent, won’t you give my boy another trial?” The boy had been ‘tried again’ so many times that father and daughter were referred to the judge, an officer having jurisdiction over such cases. The penalty for persistent truancy was attendance at a state reformatory school. This is a case in which the authority of the teacher in securing regularity of attendance was reinforced by the community outside the school. The constant pressure of school and community tend to establish habits of will memory that serve as an excellent foundation for later moral training.

[16]Third Year Book of the National Herbart Society.

162.Before training can have within itself the power to make up deficiencies in obedience, there must be awakened in the pupil a vivid feeling that the approval of his teacher is a valuable possession, which he would be loath to lose. This the teacherwill bring about in proportion to the effective and welcome share he has in the life of his pupil. He must give before he can receive. Furthermore, if in his opinion the pupil needs to be turned in a different direction, he should not underestimate the difficulty of the task before him; he must proceed slowly.

The initial steps in character training are admirably described by Niemeyer in the following words: “The teacher’s first duty is to study the positively good elements in the native character of the being to be educated. To preserve these, to strengthen them, to transform them into virtue, and to fortify them against every danger, should be his incessant endeavor. They should constitute the keynote, as it were, of his whole method of education. He should look for the good even in the spoilt and vicious pupil, and should try to bring it to light, no matter how many weeds may have sprung up alongside of it. For all subsequent moral education must start from this point.”

Although this passage belongs in strictness to the discussion on moral education, it is plainly entitled to a place here also. An appeal to the pupil’s better nature promotes ready compliance on his part, especially when it is accompanied by those little courtesies that go with cultivated social intercourse. It is most effective with those who possess at the same timethe strongest memory of will, which it will not be difficult for the supporting activity of training to strengthen still further.

163.On the other hand, the task of training grows arduous in proportion as the pupil fails to bear in mind his acts of will. But even here there is a difference between capricious unruliness and downright flightiness and levity.

Cases may arise where the impetuosity of the pupil challenges the teacher to a kind of combat. Rather than accept such a challenge, he will usually find it sufficient at first to reprove calmly, to look on quietly, to wait until fatigue sets in. The embarrassing situations into which such a pupil gets himself will furnish occasions for making him feel ashamed, and now it remains to be seen whether or not he can be made to adopt a more equable behavior. Here and there training may in this way even make good the lack of government; scarcely, however, for large numbers, after unruliness has once begotten vicious habits.

Combats of any kind between teacher and pupil are to be deplored. A good teacher is always strong enough in his mental superiority, his authority, and his influence as an executive to avoid it. Such a contest shows that the pupil has become self-conscious in a bad sense. He sets his personality over against that of the teacher. If the teacher is so weak as to meet him on his own ground, the pupil has a good chance for a bad victory—bad for himself, the teacher, and the school.It should be a constant aim of the teacher to supplant introspection, whether pertaining to feelings or to wilfulness, with motor activity. The pupil should always be doing something that will promote not only his own best good, but that of the school also. Authority should rarely so assert itself as to incite or to permit a personal contest with the pupil. It should be a strong but almost unseen presupposition of all school affairs. Here as elsewhere idleness is the mother of mischief. Lively action is sure to banish morbid introspection.

164.Thoughtlessness in the narrower sense, which manifests itself in forgetfulness, in negligence, in want of steadiness, and in so-called youthful escapades, is a defect in native capacity, and does not admit of a radical cure, imperceptible as it may become with age, by reason of repeated warnings and diminishing susceptibility to external impressions. All the more imperative is it in such cases to support by training, in order that the evil consequences of this character weakness may be prevented, or at least reduced to a minimum. For as soon as a thoughtlessly impulsive boy comes to take pleasure in his conduct, he will set himself against order and industry, and will strive to discover the means which promise to secure for him a life without restrictions. This danger must be forestalled by training. At the beginning, and before an evil will has had time to develop, training must take the place of will. It must bring home to the pupil that of which he had lost sight. To his fluctuatingand roving impulses it must lend its own external firmness and uniformity, which cannot be created at once, if at all, within the pupil.

Here is the proper place for the injunction, not to argue with children. “I cannot be too emphatic and outspoken in my warning against too much arguing,” says Caroline Rudolphi; and Schwarz, who quotes this passage, adds, “Once is too often.” Niemeyer, after speaking of the excesses of abnormal liveliness and characterizing thoughtlessness, which, he says, “causes inattention, a disregard for consequences, and hasty actions,” continues thus: “All these are not faults of the heart; still they are faults that need to be amended, and about the only sure educational method for amending them is to cultivate right habits. Positive punishments wisely chosen may indeed be employed as auxiliary means, but only when there are evidences of a lack of good intention, or when these faults have become ominously prominent.” He further advises teachers to insist on this, that pupils rectify on the spot what can be rectified, since vague recollections prove barren of good results.

This does not, of course, dispose of the whole matter, but we are still discussing training as a supporting agency, and from this point of view it is true that argument should not be substituted for the cultivation of habits.

165.To restrain the lively but thoughtless boy ismore difficult than to keep him properly active, for the latter is comparatively easy, in some cases at least, if instruction excites his interest. The reverse holds true for the sluggish boy because an attack has to be made on his indolence. Here the stimulation to physical exertion through association with wide-awake playmates is the first thing to be secured; and where hard lessons cannot as yet be managed successfully, lighter occupations will have to suffice. Where sluggishness is traceable to bodily feebleness, improvement may be hoped for from sanitary measures and increasing years.

The following rule is to be observed everywhere: No exercise must exceed the pupil’s strength, but that which has once been begun must be completed. At the least, pupils must not be allowed to drop their work as they choose; they must look upon it as a whole, however small.

166.That the supporting procedure of training rests on the teacher’s own bearing—on the uniformity of his demeanor—need hardly be said; but this evenness must also stand out clearly before the eyes of the pupils. The teacher ought to guard particularly against causing the complaint that no one knows how to please him, that nothing one may do is done to his satisfaction. When matters have come to this pass, the first thing pupils do is to watch his moods as they might the weather, and to interchange observations.His ugly mood is dreaded; his pleasant mood is taken advantage of for importunate requests. The pupils try to move the firm centre which is to support them, and the faintest signs of success awaken and foster extravagant hopes. Gradually the after-effects of earlier government die out, and a renewal of severe measures draws with it a train of new evils.

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