The teacher's practical philosophy; a treatise of education as a species of conduct (fifteen lectures)

Preface

The views set forth in this volume are essentially the same as those given to many thousands of teachers and others interested in education, in Japan, Korea, and Hawaii, during the Academic year of 1906-07. Among the Japanese, especially, the interest in the moral aspects and values of the system of public education was at that time intense and pervasive. It embraced not only the teachers as a class and the officers of the Government in the Department of Education, but also the leaders in the army and navy, in business circles, and in civil and social affairs. As instances of this interest I might cite the remark of a veteran of the Russo-Japanese war who declared that his principal anxiety in training the nearly thirty thousand recruits under his charge was to give them the right ''spiritual education;'' and also the fact that I was repeatedly urged into giving additional courses of lectures on the ethics of business in the Government Commercial Colleges, where ethics is made a required subject of study through one or two years of the course.

In this country there has been slowly gathering the conviction that our system of education, from the public schools of primary graide to the Gradu-

III iv PREFACE

ale and Professional Schools connected with our Universities, has not been productive, as it should be, of the right sort of men and women to conduct safely and wisely and righteously the affairs of Church and State. And there has been of late, and there still is, much discussion — some of it faultfinding and criminatory — over questions of causes and remedies, and over the general problem of whether our recent movements have been progressive or retrograde. Into this discussion it is not the purpose of this book to enter. Its purpose is, the rather, to emphasize the personal and moral elements as those which, broadly understood, must be relied upon to secure the needed improvements, if improvements are needed and are to be secured at all. The author believes that the lack of discipline, through moral and religious motives and in accordance with moral and religious ideals, in the home-life, in school and in college, and in society at large, is the prime source of all our national evils so far as they are connected with the educative processes as now in vogue. He also believes that these evils are very deep and large at the present time, and will be most difficult to cure or even greatly to abate under existing conditions such as those with which the individual teacher can not readily cope. But whether his belief and feelings of foreboding connected with it are justified or not, it can scarcely fail to come true that any

PREFACE earnest and fairly intelligent appeal for added attention to the personal elements and the moral forces and ideals involved in the very process of education will meet with response, equally earnest and intelligent, from numbers of the teachers in our day and land. And if even a few of those belonging to the class of workmen, to whom the author has been proud and glad to belong, are helped in any way by his words, he will be much more than amply rewarded.

In bringing these thoughts before those interested in education in this country, the form of spoken lectures has been preserved as best adapted for the familiar style in which they were originally presented. But, of course, in preparing them for an audience in the United States, not only much of the details, and of the illustrative material, but no inconsiderable part of more important formal matters, has been changed.

George Trumbull Ladd.

New Haven, June, 1911.

Contents

Lecture pages

I. Introductory 3— 24

Part I

II. The Function of the Teacher: As a

Species of Intercourse between Persons 27— 45

III. The Function of the Teacher: as Stimu-

lating Interest 46— 67

IV. The Function of the Teacher: As Im-

parting Knowledge 68— 89

V. The Function of the Teacher : As Training

Faculty 90—111

VI. The Function of the Teacher : As Forming

Character 112-135

Part II

VII. The Equipment of the Teacher: As Self-

Cultivation 139—158

VIII. The Equipment of the Teacher : As Growth

in Knowledge 159-179

IX. The Equipment of the Teacher: As Right

Use of Method 180—200

Part III

X. The Chief Ideals of the Teacher: His

Pupils ' Welfare 203-222

XI. The Chief Ideals of the Teacher: The

Cause of Science 223—243

XII. The Chief Ideals of the Teacher: The Public Welfare 244—264

VII

CONTENTS

Part IV THE TEACHEE'S EELATION TO SOCIETY AND THE STATE

XIII. The Development of Society: Dependent

on Education 267—287

XIV. The National Stability and Progress: De-

pendent on Education 288—308

XV. The Teacher's Practical Philosophy: Summary and Conclusion 309—331

LECTURE I

Fellow Teachers:

Before we begin our study of the particular topics, to which I shall invite your attention in this course of lectures, it seems desirable that we should form a clear conception of the general subject to be considered, and of the point of view from which its consideration will take place. In a word, we aim to introduce ourselves to a certain group of problems, on acquaintance with which our real success as teachers is most intimately dependent. And here I must ask your indulgence if much which I have to say in this first lecture seems somewhat remote from the experiences of our daily life of routine practise. To put to their best use the principles which underlie our high office,— its functions, its preparation, its ideals, — it is neither necessary, nor desirable, that we should keep these principles constantly before our minds; it is at least desirable and even necessary, however, that we should know what these principles are. We can then refer to them, when we doubt or debate, whether with ourselves or with one another, about their application to the concrete and definite, but often very puzzling questions that arise in the midst of this daily experience.

Much has been written of late about the science, or philosophy, of education. And you can scarcely have failed to notice that I have ventured to announce my subject as dealing with a certain branch of such philosophy. I have, in fact, proposed to speak of "The Teacher's Practical Philosophy." Let us then, first of all, consider what can be meant by a so-called philosophy of education. For it is with education that the teacher has to do in a professional way. It is for this reason that the uncouth word "educationalist," has of late been employed to designate those who for some reason— it may be good, it may be bad— have been supposed to be preeminent in matters of education. For myself, I much prefer the old-fashioned word teacher; I desire no higher honor than to be called by this title.

To get some clear conception of the sonorous phrase, "philosophy of education," it is necessary to understand the use here made of each of the two words out of which the phrase itself is compounded. To give a most general, and therefore loose definition: Education is the development of the active powers, or so-called faculties, X3f human nature, so as to fit them the better for the performance of their functions in all the varying relations sustained toward their physical environment ajid toward society. In tlie sense in which I shall employ the word, only man, and not the lower animals, can be educated. Training is the more appropriate term for the lower animals. And we may stick by this important distinction, whatever views we feel inclined to espouse with respect to the very difficult problem: How far do the most highly, so-called ''educated" animals, such as certain dogs or manlike apes, really have, or develop, powers closely resembling the higher faculties of man ?

From this most general conception it follows as a matter of course, in the first place, that in man's case all education is a species of conduct. But conduct is distinguished from mere action in several highly important ways. For one thing : conduct involves a more intelligent apprehension and mastery of the means available for attaining any desired end. It also involves a more intelligent and comprehensive conception of the end which is desired. But above all, it suggests a larger self-control, or self-chosen and self-directed use of select means toward reaching the desired end. It would take me much too far astray into some of the most obscure and difficult fields of the psychology implicated in the discussion, if I were to try to show you how some degree of the ability to form abstract conceptions of Time, Space, Self, and a certain emotional capacity for moral, artistic, and religious ideals, is evolved in the capacity of human nature for being educated,— in even this loosest and most general meaning of the word. But all this will become more evident, by the easier way of illustration, as the course of lectures moves forward over the field of the different topics it is intended to examine.

Education is also, and of necessity, a development. Man, v/hether considered as an individual or as society,— collective man,— can not be educated all at once. And here we come upon a withering rebuke to all attempts at cramming, or rushing, or scamping, or over-hurrying the process. In education, you can not get around ''Old Father Time." If you try it, his sickle is so long and sharp, that he will either drive you back or cut you down. Education is, indeed, a development: It is, therefore, a process which takes time, and can be accomplished only by taking time. You can, indeed, shorten the time by cutting out the waste of time ; but you can not secure thoroughness and reality, and eliminate time.

From the foregoing two conceptions, another follows: Education always implies a complicated and variable system of actions and reactions. Even when we— not improperly— speak of the physical environment, or so-called Nature, as an important educative influence, we imply a sort of reciprocal activity between this physical environment and the conscious soul of man. If man were not a

INTBODUGTOBT 7

true * ' child of nature, ' ' and if nature were not in some respects akin to man, or self -like, in its relations to man, then nature could not teach man; then man could not be educated by nature. And, of course, in all those forms of social influence which have an educative value, as all of them indeed do, there is no doubt that education is a species of conduct.

But now, what follows from all this view of the essential nature of education, as shown by the most general conception attached to the word, is nothing less than the exceedingly important conclusion that education is essentially a moral affair, in the larger and grander meaning of the word ''moral." For conduct is the sphere of morals, — whether it be theory or practise. Conduct, and the development of character through the rational and wise direction of conduct, is the very essence of morality.

If all this seems to you rather vague and indefinite, let us now address ourselves to the attempt at a more restricted and definite conception of education, as its process concerns the professional work of the teacher. In the sense in which we have thus far used the word, education, even in youth, is by no means confined to the school or to the teacher's work. The home-life, the particular occupation, — trade, business, profession, art,— more definitely, as well as the potent, but silent and often concealed, influences of the physical and social environment, are all of educative value. Indeed, through them, rather than through the school life, the multitudes must always, perhaps, receive most of their education. But we are to consider those influences which the teacher— and I may say, the professional teacher —should recognize and employ intelligently, in order to reinforce and enlarge those influences for good that come from this physical and social environment.

In his professional work, the teacher, as such, has certain very important advantages which distinguish his position above all others, in its relations to this difficult task. Let me mention some of the most familiar of these advantages. And, first, the work of education is obligatory in the teacher's case. This work is precisely that for which the teacher is appointed, and for which the pupil is sent to school. The teacher is, presumably, but not always wisely and effectively, * * backed up ' ' by, and is accountable to, the same authority which has placed upon him the responsibility of education. Now I know that we are accustomed to dream enticing dreams of how much happier we should be, and of how much more effective even, if only we were not obliged to do just about such a kind and quantity of teacher 's work. I suppose that the teacher who should earn— if such an one there could ever be — or who should inherit an independent fortune, and so would be less under the necessity of incurring close-fitting responsibilities, would be looked upon as an object of envy. Professors, who have become emeritus and have been placed on a Carnegie foundation, are supposed to have attained the conditions for a perfectly happy life, here below, if not hereafter. They no longer have to teach; they are no longer under obligation to a presidential boss, or to a remote and not well-informed board of trustees or a corporation. But I assure you, my friends, that this in most cases is only because the person concerned does not love to teach, or is consciously unfit in body or mind to continue the work of teaching. A large measure of the firm and close-fitting sense of obligation— if only we could respect its source— conduces, in general, to the happiness as well as to the efficiency of the teacher.

Other important advantages come to the professional teacher in the work of education, from the fact that he has been especially trained for just this work. To be sure, there still lingers in many parts of this country, which is apt to boast so inordinately of the special attention which it gives to education, the practise of committing the work of education to persons who have had little or no professional training. But in the country at large, the demand for such training is rising ; and we may hope that the time is not eternally distant when an untrained person will be no more acceptable in the profession

10 TEE TEACHER'S PRACTICAL PHILOSOPEY

of teaching than in the profession of medicine, law, or even of the ministry.

Again, the teacher has the important advantage of having his subjects committed to him at, and during, the formative period of their lives. The immaturity, the crudeness, and rank foolishness of one's pupils is often a severe trial to the teacher of serious purpose. It is also, not infrequently, a bitter disappointment that he can not hurry these youth through the raw and green age of development so fast as seems desirable. But it must not be forgotten that there is another side, and a side of hope to all this. Crudeness and foolishness are symptoms of the age in which the process of education is most appropriate, and its successful progress most reasonable to expect. The age of immaturity is the educable age. And just as the triumph of any artistic effort depends, not solely on the artist's ideal or the artist's skill, but also on the moldableness of the ma,terial, in which, by his skill, he must see his ideals more or less fully idealized, so it is preeminently with the art of the so-called ' ' educator. ' *

Another advantage which is really great, but which belongs to our present system of education far less than it should, and to gain more of which it would, in my judgment, be well worth while to sacrifice a number of less important considerations, is this: The teacher's work is, for considerable portions of one or more years at least, regular and unintermitting. He can thus reiterate, habitualize — **rub in,'* so to say — ^the truths and practises, of which he aims to make the pupil something of a master. In view of the immense loss of effective influence which comes from parting with this advantage, I should favor some rearrangement of our public-school system, especially in the large schools of our cities, which should, so far as possible, keep the same pupils under the same teachers for several years in succession. As it is now, too much of the work of education resembles the work of legislation; and this— to borrow a figure of speech from Milton — consists in large measure of *' hatching lies with the heat of legislation," and then killing off the brood hatched by the last legislature.

And, finally, the teacher, if he is successful, may secure some of those most important domestic and social auxiliaries of the emotional kind, such as respect, confidence, and even tender affection. It was a saying of Confucius, which remains much more in force in the Orient than with us, and of which one of my Japanese pupils on our final parting reminded me, that '*the relations of reverence and love betwen the pupil and his teacher stand next to those of the son to his father.'*

Such, then, is education as it is committed to the profession of the teacher ; and such are some of the advantages which the skilful and devoted teacher has at command, if he desires to employ them. This is enough to define, at least in a preliminary way, the subject-matter of this course of lectures. But now, a few words as to the method of the proposed treatment, and as to the point of view which it is proposed to assume in the effort to carry through successfully this method. Both the method and the point of view have been summarized in the phrase, "Practical Philosophy."

What now is Philosophy? and what can be meant, that is profitable, by the proposal to treat of education from the philosophical point of view? In this country, in these days, the very word has become a term to excite the suspicion of approaching dull weather, with dark clouds overhanging and thick mist around; or else to awaken and strengthen concealed feelings of aversion and even scorn. We are so very *' practical" as a nation; and if we will listen at all to the philosophic voice, it must speak in terms of so-called *' Pragmatism, " of the very latest type. But, my friends, we fail to recognize that, for lack of a knowledge of principles, we have, in business, politics, social betterment, diplomacy, and education, fallen in not a few respects behind the more advanced nations of the civilized world. In answer to the question now before us, I am not proposing to entertain you with any occult doctrines, or hidden cult, or newly discovered mysteries. The philosophy of education need not be understood as dealing with any thing of this sort. It is just an attempt at setting forth, in the most familiar manner, certain fundamental principles which underlie, and which should consciously and intelligently underlie, all the teacher 's profesional work and professional life. And since this work is more of an art than of a science, and the really successful teacher deserves to rank with a great artist rather than with a great scientfic discoverer, you will please consider what I say to you as matters of opinion on which you are yourselves to exercise your own reflective judgment, rather than as demonstrations of indubitable truths. In brief, then, the nature of a so-called philosophy of education may be the better understood, if we will reflect upon the meaning of the following statements. And, first, philosophy aims at the discovery of the most general principles appertaining to the subject about which it is proposed to philosophize. Science, too, aims at the discovery of general principles, and to these principles it is accustomed to give the name of laws. Science aims in this way to unify the phenomena. But as Mr. Spencer said, years ago, philosophy aims at a still higher kind of unity. In reaching out for this higher kind of unity, philosophy is apt to employ methods which I have elsewhere defined as the methods of reflective analysis and speculative synthesis. But not to make any mystery of this, let me only say that, when it is proposed to treat any subject in education philosophically, you are all invited to think that subject as nearly through as you possibly can— to think it out to the end; and then to put together in the form of a judgment for a guide in future practise, what you have thus thought through. " Through-ness, " or thoroughness, is thus essential to the method of philosophy.

But do not for a moment suppose that a philosophy of any one of the groups of problems which puzzle and worry the professional teacher can be based on airy nothings, on mere imaginings or vague sentiments— however worthy and noble in themselves these ima^nings and sentiments may seem. All sound and good philosophy must be based on experience— either of one's own or, what is better oftentimes, as embodied in some judgment that makes a valid claim to at least a sort of scientific quality.

And here we are to remind ourselves that there are certain forms of study which, whether they can be called "sciences," or not, in the stricter meaning of that word, embody the kind of experience on which the philosophy of any particular group of problems in education must be based. I do not suffer myself to speak of a science of pedagogy. Indeed, the larger amount of what is current under this term seems to me distressingly shallow; and no little of it I believe to be positively mischievous. But the study of psychology, in the broadest meaning of that term, as the science of human mental life, especially in the genetic way; the study of the history of education, as it sets forth the changing and developing convictions and practises of the race touching the needs of the educational process and the best means of satisfying them ; the study of the lives and experiments, and of the results of the experiments, of the few men and women whose work has been epoch-making in education; the study, either by reading or at first hand of the social and educational conditions and needs of our own land and day — all these and other closely allied studies constitute the basis of experience on which we must try to place our philosophy of education, if we expect it to win and keep the confidence and respect of others, not to say our own confidence and respect.

But I have announced my topic as **The Teacher's Practical Philosophy.*' I might almost equally well have used the word *' ethical," or the word *' moral" to express my intention. For the sphere of the ethical or moral is the practical ; and in the broadest and best meaning of the words, the teacher's practical philosophy is the moral philosophy which deals with the principles of conduct that underlie the teacher's work. Education, as the professional teacher undertakes it, is a species of conduct; all conduct comes into, or rather essentially belongs within, the sphere of the moral ; or what is the same thing, of the practical. The study of education, as we are proposing to pursue it, should result in the discovery and systematic treatment of those most general principles of conduct, which apply to the particular relations in which human beings are placed for purposes of education. More briefly and familiarly said: We inquire into the principles which should regulate the professional conduct of the teacher. To avoid, as far as possible under the circumstances, misunderstanding on the part of any of my hearers, let me repeat: It is principles rather than rules which we are to investigate; and these are to be, chiefly, the principles which are most fundamental and general, or nearly universal. It is not my purpose, then, to tell you just how to teach, after the somewhat too lordly manner of the master pedagogue or so-called educator. And I am very glad that I am not committed to this purpose. I should very much rather learn the art of teaching, if that were possible, from some of you. As to those general principles, however, with which we all, as teachers, ought to be familiar, and upon which we ought constantly to endeavor to base our practise, I feel much more confident of my ability to speak. They have been the topics of my thoughts and research, for more than two-score years. And

I shall not be surprised, if some of you finish this course of instruction with me by saying: *'Why! we knew all that before." In part, I am hoping to avoid this crushing piece of criticism, and to make the lectures of more use in the daily routine of the schoolroom, by illustrating and enforcing the principles, as we go along together, with much more material taken from concrete experiences, with which all may not be quite so familiar, or with which they may not have happened previously to have seen the principles connected.

As to the Divisions of the subject: I am proposing, for purposes of convenience and clearness in our procedure, to discuss it under the following four heads. And, first, we shall raise this inquiry : How do the principles which constitute the practical philosophy of education underlie, and apply to, the Functions of the teacher? I have already \ intimated that teaching seems to me to resemble in i many important respects a high-class form of art. But in all forms of human artistic activity, principles need to be, not so much learned as generalizations that may prove useful in the discovery or explanation of concrete facts, as incorporated in habits of action and made ways of expressing the ideals and motives that control the spiritual life. In this part of the subject, therefore, we shall consider the workman at his work— what that work is, and how it ought to be done if it is to adapt itself to the underlying principles of a practical philosophy of education. In a word, we shall aim to sketch in outline the ethical doctrine of the forms of activity in which the art of teachir^ well consists.

In the second division of the subject we shall consider the Equipment of the Teacher. Here we shall try to show how the same principles of the teacher's practical philosophy govern that self -culture which fits one for the most rational and successful exercise of these same functions, or forms of activity. Like every other kind of workman, and even much more than most kinds of workmen, the professional teacher demands some special equipment for his special work. In attaining this equipment he must himself be active. The teacher's preparation is a species of conduct ; and it is, therefore, a moral affair and falls under the control of the principles of a practical, and a practicable, philosophy. Although, however, this self-preparation of the teacher is a kind of work which stands, often a long distance before, and always at the threshold, of his active life, it is also a preparation which can never be completely finished. The teacher 's equipment gives him an everlasting gob. His work is never done. His getting ready for this work is never quite complete. Both functions and equipment, therefore, need the ceaseless control of moral principles.

But, in a way, presiding over both functions and equipment, and constituting the third division of our subject, are the Ideals of the Teacher. These are certain conceptions which have an emotional value, which have also a **puir' upon the will, and which set the aims of the workman at an altitude appreciably higher than the facts and actualities of present attainment. Ideals in education are preeminently matters to be dealt with in terms of the principles of a suitable moral philosophy. No heresy is more rank, indefensible, and mischievous, than that which would reduce all moral problems to questions of mere fact. Or, perhaps, it would be better to say that we can not even make the attempt to deal with moral problems in this way, and deal honestly and thoroughly, without coming upon this most important fact ; namely, that the notions of humanity as to what is not now, but which nevertheless ought to be, are themselves facts, most plainly existent and of the most potent order. And without these facts, the very conceptions of the right and the wrong in conduct, in the moral meaning of the words '* right" and *' wrong," would have no intelligible meaning at all. The ideals of the teacher, therefore, like all other ideals, must be considered in the light of the principles of a true practical philosophy.

Finally, in the fourth division of the subject, we shaU consider some of the more important of the Relations which the Teacher sustains to the Welfare of Society and to the Stability and Prosperity of the State. In this way I hope to reach something of a result which shall yield a broader outlook upon the teacher's field of operation; and which shall greatly enhance our estimate of the dignity, importance, and practical efficiency, when it is well done, of the teacher's work.

In closing this first and introductory lecture, I wish to make a few remarks upon the value of the study of education from the philosophical point of view, as I have defined it; and, as well, of its results in their possible application to the daily routine work of the professional teacher. Such a study will not, indeed, furnish any rules of procedure that are precise and ' ^ practical, ' ' in the narrower and much-abused, but widely current use of the latter word. It will tell no inquirer just what he must do in order to become a truly successful teacher. It does not even aim at so high, so utterly impossible a task. I have already said more than once, that teaching is more like an art than an exact science. No instruction in principles, and no amount of learning rules, will ever make an artist in any one of the several lines of art. My experience has taught me that here is a point at which the would-be teacher of teachers needs frequently to stop a bit, and expostulate and explain, even at the risk of seeriiing guilty of an unpardonable reiteration of commonplaces. For teachers, above all other classes of learners, and just because they are more honest and really desirous of learning than any other class of hearers, when attending lectures on so-called pedagogy, quite uniformly get out their note-books and begin to listen and take notes, just as though they expected you to tell them some new secret appertaining to the truth, precisely how the thing we all find so difficult, ought really to be done. But, my friends, I shall make no attempt at this; although I shall hope by the way to drop certain hints and suggestions which may stimulate and guide many a one of you in experimenting for himself, or herself, to find out how in the individual case, the art of successful teaching may be, the better, put into actual practise. In making this sort of attempt, I may reasonably hope for a partial success. If I were to attempt the other task, I should most certainly, miserably fail.