{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_38730/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_38730","id":"gutenberg_38730","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38730","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Parenthood & Family Relations","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Teaching & Education","Moral education"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Martin Pettit and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\nInternational Education Series\n\nEDITED BY\n\nWILLIAM T. HARRIS, A.M., LL.D.\n\n_Volume XXI._\n\n\nTHE INTERNATIONAL EDUCATION SERIES.\n\n12mo, cloth, uniform binding.\n\nTHE INTERNATIONAL EDUCATION SERIES was projected for the purpose of\nbringing together in orderly arrangement the best writings, new and old,\nupon educational subjects, and presenting a complete course of reading\nand training for teachers generally. It is edited by W. T. HARRIS,\nLL.D., now United States Commissioner of Education, who has contributed\nfor the different volumes in the way of introductions, analysis, and\ncommentary. The volumes are tastefully and substantially bound in\nuniform style.\n\n_VOLUMES NOW READY_:\n\n\n     Vol I.--THE PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION. By JOHANN KARL FRIEDRICH\n     ROSENKRANZ, Doctor of Theology and Professor of Philosophy at the\n     University of Konigsberg. Translated from the German by ANNA C.\n     BRACKETT. Second edition, revised, and accompanied with Commentary\n     and complete Analysis. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. II.--A HISTORY OF EDUCATION. By F. V. N. PAINTER, A.M.,\n     Professor of Modern Languages and Literature in Roanoke College,\n     Va. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. III.--THE RISE AND EARLY CONSTITUTION OF UNIVERSITIES. WITH A\n     SURVEY OF MEDIEVAL EDUCATION. By S. S. LAURIE, LL.D., Professor of\n     the Institutes and History of Education in the University of\n     Edinburgh. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. IV--THE VENTILATION AND WARMING OF SCHOOL BUILDINGS. By\n     GILBERT B. MORRISON, Teacher of Physics and Chemistry in Kansas\n     City High School. Price, $1.00.\n\n     Vol V.--THE EDUCATION OF MAN. By FRIEDRICH FROEBEL. Translated and\n     furnished with ample notes by W. N. HAILMANN, A.M., Superintendent\n     of Public Schools, La Porte, Ind. Price, $1.50.\n\n     VOL VI--ELEMENTARY PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION. By Dr. J. BALDWIN,\n     author of \"The Art of School Management.\" Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. VII.--THE SENSES AND THE WILL. (Part I of \"THE MIND OF THE\n     CHILD.\") By W. PREYER, Professor of Physiology in Jena. Translated\n     from the original German by H. W. BROWN, Teacher in the State\n     Normal School at Worcester, Mass. Price, $1.50.\n\n     VOL VIII.--MEMORY: What it is and how to Improve it. By DAVID KAY,\n     F.R.G.S., author of \"Education and Educators,\" etc. Price, $1.50.\n\n     VOL IX.--THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE INTELLECT. (Part II of \"THE MIND OF\n     THE CHILD.\") By W. PREYER, Professor of Physiology in Jena.\n     Translated from the original German by H. W. BROWN, Teacher in the\n     State Normal School at Worcester, Mass. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. X.--HOW TO STUDY GEOGRAPHY. A Practical Exposition of Methods\n     and Devices in Teaching Geography which apply the Principles and\n     Plans of Ritter and Guyot. By FRANCIS W. PARKER, Principal of the\n     Cook County (Illinois) Normal School. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. XI.--EDUCATION IN THE UNITED STATES: Its History from the\n     Earliest Settlements. By RICHARD G. BOONE, A.M., Professor of\n     Pedagogy in Indiana University. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. XII.--EUROPEAN SCHOOLS; or, What I Saw in the Schools of\n     Germany, France, Austria, and Switzerland. By L. R. KLEMM, Ph.D.,\n     Principal of the Cincinnati Technical School, author of \"Chips from\n     a Teacher's Workshop,\" etc. Fully illustrated. Price, $2.00.\n\n     Vol. XIII.--PRACTICAL HINTS FOR THE TEACHERS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS. By\n     GEORGE HOWLAND, Superintendent of the Chicago Public Schools.\n     Price, $1.00.\n\n     Vol. XIV.--PESTALOZZI: His Life and Work. By ROGER DE GUIMPS.\n     Authorized translation from the second French edition, by J.\n     RUSSELL, B.A., Assistant Master in University College, London.\n     With an Introduction by Rev. R. H. QUICK, M.A. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. XV.--SCHOOL SUPERVISION. By J. L. PICKARD, LL.D. Price, $1.00.\n\n     Vol. XVI.--HIGHER EDUCATION OF WOMEN IN EUROPE. By HELENE LANGE,\n     Berlin. Translated and accompanied by comparative statistics by L.\n     R. KLEMM. Price, $1.00.\n\n     Vol. XVII.--ESSAYS ON EDUCATIONAL REFORMERS. By ROBERT HERBERT\n     QUICK, M.A., Trinity College, Cambridge; formerly Assistant Master\n     at Harrow, and Lecturer on the History of Education at Cambridge;\n     late Vicar of Ledbergh. _Only authorized edition of the work as\n     rewritten in 1890._ Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. XVIII.--A TEXT-BOOK IN PSYCHOLOGY. AN ATTEMPT TO FOUND THE\n     SCIENCE OF PSYCHOLOGY ON EXPERIENCE, METAPHYSICS, AND MATHEMATICS.\n     By JOHANN FRIEDRICH HERBART. Translated from the original German by\n     MARGARET K. SMITH, Teacher in the State Normal School at Oswego,\n     New York. Price, $1.00.\n\n     Vol. XIX.--PSYCHOLOGY APPLIED TO THE ART OF TEACHING. By Dr. JOSEPH\n     BALDWIN. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. XX.--ROUSSEAU'S EMILE. By W. H. PAYNE. Price, $1.50.\n\n     Vol. XXI.--ETHICAL TRAINING IN SCHOOLS. By FELIX ADLER.\n\n     Vol. XXII.--ENGLISH EDUCATION IN THE ELEMENTARY AND SECONDARY\n     SCHOOLS. By ISAAC SHARPLESS, LL.D. Price, $1.00.\n\n     Vol. XXIII.--EDUCATION FROM A NATIONAL STANDPOINT. By ALFRED\n     FOUILLEE. Price, $1.50.\n\n_Circular, describing the volumes more in detail, mailed to any address\non request._\n\nNew York: D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.\n\n\n\n\nINTERNATIONAL EDUCATION SERIES\n\nTHE MORAL INSTRUCTION OF CHILDREN\n\nBY\nFELIX ADLER\n\nNEW YORK\nD. APPLETON AND COMPANY\n1892\n\n\nCOPYRIGHT, 1892,\nBY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.\n\nELECTROTYPED AND PRINTED\nAT THE APPLETON PRESS, U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\nEDITOR'S PREFACE.\n\n\nMoral education is everywhere acknowledged to be the most important part\nof all education; but there has not been the same agreement in regard to\nthe best means of securing it in the school. This has been due in part\nto a want of insight into the twofold nature of this sort of education;\nfor instruction in morals includes two things: the formation of right\nideas and the formation of right habits. Right ideas are necessary to\nguide the will, but right habits are the product of the will itself.\n\nIt is possible to have right ideas to some extent without the\ncorresponding moral habits. On this account the formation of correct\nhabits has been esteemed by some to be the chief thing. But unconscious\nhabits--mere use and wont--do not seem to deserve the title of moral in\nits highest sense. The moral act should be a considerate one, and rest\non the adoption of principles to guide one's actions.\n\nTo those who lay stress on the practical side and demand the formation\nof correct habits, the school as it is seems to be a great ethical\ninstrumentality. To those who see in theoretical instruction the only\ntrue basis of moral character, the existing school methods seem sadly\ndeficient.\n\nThe school as it is looks first after its discipline, and next after its\ninstruction. Discipline concerns the behavior, and instruction concerns\nthe intellectual progress of the pupil. That part of moral education\nwhich relates to habits of good behavior is much better provided for in\nthe school than any part of intellectual education.\n\nThere is, however, a conflict here between old and new ideals. The\nold-fashioned school regarded obedience to authority the one essential;\nthe new ideal regards insight into the reasonableness of moral commands\nthe chief end. It is said, with truth, that a habit of unreasoning\nobedience does not fit one for the exigencies of modern life, with its\npartisan appeals to the individual and its perpetual display of grounds\nand reasons, specious and otherwise, in the newspapers. The unreasoning\nobedience to a moral guide in school may become in after life\nunreasoning obedience to a demagogue or to a leader in crime.\n\nIt is not obedience to external authority that we need so much as\nenlightened moral sense, and yet there remains and will remain much good\nin the old-fashioned habit of implicit obedience.\n\nThe new education aims at building up self-control and individual\ninsight. It substitutes the internal authority of conscience for the\nexternal authority of the master. It claims by this to educate the\ncitizen fitted for the exercise of suffrage in a free government. He\nwill weigh political and social questions in his mind, and decide for\nhimself. He will be apt to reject the scheme of the demagogue. While the\nold-fashioned school-master relied on the rod to sustain his external\nauthority, he produced, it is said, a reaction against all authority in\nthe minds of strong-willed pupils. The new education saves the\nstrong-willed pupil from this tension against constituted authority, and\nmakes him law-abiding from the beginning.\n\nIt will be admitted that the school under both its forms--old as well as\nnew--secures in the main the formation of the cardinal moral habits. It\nis obliged to insist on regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry\nas indispensable for the performance of its school tasks. A private\ntutor may permit his charge to neglect all these things, and yet secure\nsome progress in studies carried on by fits and starts, with noise and\nzeal to-day, followed by indolence to-morrow. But a school, on account\nof its numbers, must insist on the semi-mechanical virtues of\nregularity, punctuality, silence, and industry. Although these are\nsemi-mechanical in their nature, for with much practice they become\nunconscious habits, yet they furnish the very ground-work of all\ncombinations of man with his fellow-men. They are fundamental conditions\nof social life. The increase of city population, consequent on the\ngrowth of productive industry and the substitution of machines for hand\nlabor, renders necessary the universal prevalence of these cardinal\nvirtues of the school.\n\nEven the management of machines requires that sort of alertness which\ncomes from regularity and punctuality. The travel on the railroad, the\nmanagement of steam-engines, the necessities of concerted action,\nrequire punctuality and rhythmic action.\n\nThe school habit of silence means considerate regard for the rights of\nfellow-workmen. They must not be interfered with; their attention must\nnot be distracted from their several tasks. A rational self-restraint\ngrows out of this school habit--rational, because it rests on\nconsiderateness for the work of others. This is a great lesson in\nco-operation. Morals in their essence deal with the relation of man to\nhis fellow-men, and rest on a considerateness for the rights of others.\n\"Do unto others,\" etc., sums up the moral code.\n\nIndustry, likewise, takes a high rank as a citizen's virtue. By it man\nlearns to re-enforce the moments by the hours, and the days by the\nyears. He learns how the puny individual can conquer great obstacles.\nThe school demands of the youth a difficult kind of industry. He must\nthink and remember, giving close and unremitting attention to subjects\nstrange and far off from his daily life. He must do this in order to\ndiscover eventually that these strange and far-off matters are connected\nin a close manner to his own history and destiny.\n\nThere is another phase of the pupil's industry that has an important\nbearing on morals. All his intellectual work in the class has to do with\ncritical accuracy, and respect for the truth. Loose statements and\ncareless logical inference meet with severe reproof.\n\nFinally, there is an enforced politeness and courtesy toward teachers\nand fellow-pupils--at least to the extent of preventing quarrels. This\nis directly tributary to the highest of virtues, namely, kindness and\ngenerosity.\n\nAll these moral phases mentioned have to do with the side of school\ndiscipline rather than instruction, and they do not necessarily have any\nbearing on the theory of morals or on ethical philosophy, except in the\nfact that they make a very strong impression on the mind of the youth,\nand cause him to feel that he is a member of a moral order. He learns\nthat moral demands are far more stern than the demands of the body for\nfood or drink or repose. The school thus does much to change the pupil\nfrom a natural being to a spiritual being. Physical nature becomes\nsubordinated to the interests of human nature.\n\nNotwithstanding the fact that the school is so efficient as a means of\ntraining in moral habits, it is as yet only a small influence in the\nrealm of moral theory. Even our colleges and universities, it must be\nconfessed, do little in this respect, although there has been of late an\neffort to increase in the programmes the amount of time devoted to\nethical study. The cause of this is the divorce of moral theory from\ntheology. All was easy so long as ethics was directly associated with\nthe prevailing religious confession. The separation of Church and\nState, slowly progressing everywhere since the middle ages, has at\nlength touched the question of education.\n\nThe attempt to find an independent basis for ethics in the science of\nsociology has developed conflicting systems. The college student is\nrarely strengthened in his faith in moral theories by his theoretic\nstudy. Too often his faith is sapped. Those who master a spiritual\nphilosophy are strengthened; the many who drift toward a so-called\n\"scientific\" basis are led to weaken their moral convictions to the\nstandpoint of fashion, or custom, or utility.\n\nMeanwhile the demand of the age to separate Church from State becomes\nmore and more exacting. Religious instruction has almost entirely ceased\nin the public schools, and it is rapidly disappearing from the\nprogrammes of colleges and preparatory schools, and few academies are\nnow scenes of religious revival, as once was common.\n\nThe publishers of this series are glad, therefore, to offer a book so\ntimely and full of helpful suggestions as this of Mr. Adler. It is hoped\nthat it may open for many teachers a new road to theoretic instruction\nin morality, and at the same time re-enforce the study of literature in\nour schools.\n\nW. T. HARRIS.\n\nWASHINGTON, D.C., _July, 1892_.\n\n\n\n\nPREFATORY NOTE.\n\n\nThe following lectures were delivered in the School of Applied Ethics\nduring its first session in 1891, at Plymouth, Mass. A few of the\nlectures have been condensed, in order to bring more clearly into view\nthe logical scheme which underlies the plan of instruction here\noutlined. The others are published substantially as delivered.\n\nI am deeply conscious of the difficulties of the problem which I have\nventured to approach, and realize that any contribution toward its\nsolution, at the present time, must be most imperfect. I should, for my\npart, have preferred to wait longer before submitting my thought to\nteachers and parents. But I have been persuaded that even in its present\nshape it may be of some use. I earnestly hope that, at all events, it\nmay serve to help on the rising tide of interest in moral education, and\nmay stimulate to further inquiry.\n\nFELIX ADLER.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY LECTURES.\n                                                                  PAGE\n   I. The Problem of Unsectarian Moral Instruction                   3\n\n  II. The Efficient Motives of Good Conduct                         17\n\n III. Opportunities for Moral Training in the Daily School          27\n\n  IV. The Classification of Duties                                  37\n\n   V. The Moral Outfit of Children on entering School               47\n\n\nPRIMARY COURSE.\n\n  VI. The Use of Fairy Tales                                        64\n\n VII. The Use of Fables                                             80\n\nVIII. Supplementary Remarks on Fables                               96\n\n  IX. Selected Stories from the Bible                              106\n\n   X. The Odyssey and the Iliad                                    146\n\n\nGRAMMAR COURSE.\n\nLESSONS ON DUTY.\n\n  XI. The Duty of acquiring Knowledge                              169\n\n XII. Duties which relate to the Physical Life and the Feelings    185\n\nXIII. Duties which relate to Others (Filial and Fraternal Duties)  202\n\n XIV. Duties toward all Men (Justice and Charity)                  218\n\n  XV. The Elements of Civic Duty                                   236\n\n XVI. The Use of Proverbs and Speeches                             245\n\nXVII. Individualization of Moral Teaching                          249\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\n      The Influence of Manual Training on Character                257\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY LECTURES.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nTHE PROBLEM OF UNSECTARIAN MORAL INSTRUCTION.\n\n\nIt will be the aim of the present course of lectures to give in outline\nthe subject-matter of moral instruction for children from six to\nfourteen or fifteen years of age, and to discuss the methods according\nto which this kind of instruction should be imparted. At the outset,\nhowever, we are confronted by what certainly is a grave difficulty, and\nto many may appear an insuperable one. The opinion is widely held that\nmorality depends on religious sanctions, and that right conduct can not\nbe taught--especially not to children--except it be under the authority\nof some sort of religious belief. To those who think in this way the\nvery phrase, unsectarian moral teaching, is suspicious, as savoring of\ninfidelity. And the attempt to mark off a neutral moral zone, outside\nthe domains of the churches, is apt to be regarded as masking a covert\ndesign on religion itself.\n\nThe principle of unsectarian moral instruction, however, is neither\nirreligious nor anti-religious. In fact--as will appear later on--it\nrests on purely educational grounds, with which the religious bias of\nthe educator has nothing whatever to do. But there are also grounds of\nexpediency which, at least in the United States, compel us, whether we\ncare to do so or not, to face this problem of unsectarian moral\neducation, and to these let us first give our attention. Even if we were\nto admit, for argument's sake, the correctness of the proposition that\nmoral truths can only be taught as corollaries of some form of religious\nbelief, the question would at once present itself to the educator, To\nwhich form of religious belief shall he give the preference? I am\nspeaking now of the public schools of the United States.\n\nThese schools are supported out of the general fund of taxation to which\nall citizens are compelled to contribute. Clearly it would be an act of\ngross injustice to force a citizen belonging to one denomination to pay\nfor instilling the doctrines of some other into the minds of the\nyoung--in other words, to compel him to support and assist in spreading\nreligious ideas in which he does not believe. This would be an outrage\non the freedom of conscience. But the act of injustice would become\nsimply monstrous if parents were to be compelled to help indoctrinate\ntheir own children with such religious opinions as are repugnant to\nthem.\n\nThere is no state religion in the United States. In the eyes of the\nstate all shades of belief and disbelief are on a par. There are in this\ncountry Catholics, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists,\nJews, etc. They are alike citizens. They contribute alike toward the\nmaintenance of the public schools. With what show of fairness, then,\ncould the belief of any one of these sects be adopted by the state as a\nbasis for the inculcation of moral truths? The case seems, on the face\nof it, a hopeless one. But the following devices have been suggested to\nremove, or rather to circumvent, the difficulty.\n\n_First Device._--Let representatives of the various theistic churches,\nincluding Catholics, Protestants, and Jews, meet in council. Let them\neliminate all those points in respect to which they differ, and\nformulate a common creed containing only those articles on which they\ncan agree. Such a creed would include, for instance, the belief in the\nexistence of Deity, in the immortality of the soul, and in future reward\nand punishment. Upon this as a foundation let the edifice of moral\ninstruction be erected. There are, however, two obvious objections to\nthis plan. In the first place, this \"Dreibund\" of Catholicism,\nProtestantism, and Judaism would leave out of account the party of the\nagnostics, whose views may indeed be erroneous, or even detestable, but\nwhose rights as citizens ought not the less on that account to be\nrespected. \"_Neminem laede_,\" hurt no one, is a cardinal rule of justice,\nand should be observed by the friends of religion in their dealings with\ntheir opponents as well as with one another. The agnostic party has\ngrown to quite considerable dimensions in the United States. But, if it\nhad not, if there were only a single person who held such opinions, and\nhe a citizen, any attempt on the part of the majority to trample upon\nthe rights of this one person would still be inexcusable. In the sphere\nof political action the majority rules, and must rule; in matters that\ntouch the conscience the smallest minority possesses rights on which\neven an overwhelming majority arrayed on the opposite side can not\nafford to trespass. It is one of the most notable achievements of the\nAmerican commonwealths that they have so distinctly separated between\nthe domain of religion and of politics, adopting in the one case the\nmaxim of coercion by majority rule, in the other allowing the full\nmeasure of individual liberty. From this standpoint there should be no\ndeparture.\n\nBut the second objection is even more cogent. It is proposed to\neliminate the differences which separate the various sects, and to\nformulate their points of agreement into a common creed. But does it not\noccur to those who propose this plan that the very life of a religion is\nto be found precisely in those points in which it differs from its\nneighbors, and that an abstract scheme of belief, such as has been\nsketched, would, in truth, satisfy no one? Thus, out of respect for the\nsentiments of the Jews, it is proposed to omit the doctrines of the\ndivinity of Christ and of the atonement. But would any earnest Christian\ngive his assent, even provisionally, to a creed from which those\nquintessential doctrines of Christianity have been left out? When the\nChristian maintains that morality must be based on religion, does he not\nmean, above all, on the belief in Christ? Is it not indispensable, from\nhis point of view, that the figure of the Saviour shall stand in the\nforeground of moral inculcation and exhortation? Again, when the\nCatholic affirms that the moral teaching of the young must be based on\nreligion, is it to be supposed for an instant that he would accept as\nsatisfying his conception of religion a skeleton creed like that above\nmentioned, denuded of all those peculiar dogmas which make religion in\nhis eyes beautiful and dear? This first device, therefore, is to be\nrejected. It is unjust to the agnostics, and it will never content the\nreally religious persons of any denomination. It could prove acceptable\nonly to theists pure and simple, whose creed is practically limited to\nthe three articles mentioned; namely, the belief in Deity, immortality,\nand future punishment and reward. But this class constitutes a small\nfraction of the community; and it would be absurd, under the specious\nplea of reconciling the various creeds, in effect to impose the\nrationalistic opinions of a few on the whole community.\n\nThe _second device_ seems to promise better results. It provides that\nreligious and moral instruction combined shall be given in the public\nschools under the auspices of the several denominations. According to\nthis plan, the pupils are to be divided, for purposes of moral\ninstruction, into separate classes, according to their sectarian\naffiliations, and are to be taught separately by their own clergymen or\nby teachers acting under instructions from the latter. The high\nauthority of Germany is invoked in support of this plan. If I am\ncorrectly informed, the president of one of our leading universities\nhas recently spoken in favor of it, and it is likely that an attempt\nwill be made to introduce it in the United States. Already in some of\nour reformatory schools and other public institutions separate religious\nservices are held by the ministers of the various sects, and we may\nexpect that an analogous arrangement will be proposed with respect to\nmoral teaching in the common schools. It is necessary, therefore, to pay\nsome attention to the German system, and to explain the reasons which\nhave induced or compelled the Germans to adopt the compromise just\ndescribed. The chief points to be noted are these: In Germany, church\nand state are united. The King of Prussia, for instance, is the head of\nthe Evangelical Church. This constitutes a vital difference between\nAmerica and Germany. Secondly, in Germany the schools existed before the\nstate took charge of them. The school system was founded by the Church,\nand the problem which confronted the Government was how to convert\nchurch schools into state schools. An attempt was made to do this by\nlimiting the influence of the clergy, which formerly had been\nall-powerful and all-pervasive, to certain branches and certain hours of\ninstruction, thereby securing the supremacy of the state in respect to\nall other branches and at all other hours. In America, on the other\nhand, the state founded the schools _ab initio_. In Germany the state\nhas actually encroached upon the Church, has entered church schools and\nreconstructed them in its own interest. To adopt the German system in\nAmerica would be to permit the Church to encroach upon the state, to\nenter state schools and subordinate them to sectarian purposes. The\nexample of Germany can not, therefore, be quoted as a precedent in\npoint. The system of compromise in Germany marks an advance in the\ndirection of increasing state influence. Its adoption in this country\nwould mark a retrograde movement in the direction of increasing church\ninfluence.\n\nNor can the system, when considered on its own merits, be called a happy\none. Prof. Gneist, in his valuable treatise, Die Konfessionelle Schule\n(which may be read by those who desire to inform themselves on the\nhistorical evolution of the Prussian system), maintains that scientific\ninstruction must be unsectarian, while religious instruction must be\nsectarian. I agree to both his propositions. But to my mind it follows\nthat, if religious instruction must be sectarian, it ought not to have a\nplace in state schools, at least not in a country in which the\nseparation of church and state is complete. Moreover, the limitation of\nreligious teaching to a few hours a week can never satisfy the earnest\nsectarian. If he wants religion in the schools at all, then he will also\nwant that specific kind of religious influence which he favors to\npermeate the whole school. He will insist that history shall be taught\nfrom his point of view, that the readers shall breathe the spirit of his\nfaith, that the science teaching shall be made to harmonize with its\ndoctrines, etc. What a paltry concession, indeed, to open the door to\nthe clergyman twice or three times a week, and to permit him to teach\nthe catechism to the pupils, while the rest of the teaching is withdrawn\nfrom his control, and is perhaps informed by a spirit alien to his! This\nkind of compromise can never heartily be indorsed; it may be accepted\nunder pressure, but submission to it will always be under protest.[1]\n\nThe third arrangement that has been suggested is that each sect shall\nbuild its own schools, and draw upon the fund supplied by taxation\nproportionately to the number of children educated. But to this there\nare again two great objections: First, it is the duty of the state to\nsee to it that a high educational standard shall be maintained in the\nschools, and that the money spent on them shall bear fruit in raising\nthe general intelligence of the community. But the experience of the\npast proves conclusively that in sectarian schools, especially where\nthere are no rival unsectarian institutions to force them into\ncompetition, the preponderance of zeal and interest is so markedly on\nthe side of religious teaching that the secular branches unavoidably\nsuffer.[2] If it is said that the state may prescribe rules and set up\nstandards of its own, to which the sectarian schools shall be held to\nconform, we ask, Who is to secure such conformance? The various sects,\nonce having gained possession of the public funds, would resent the\ninterference of the State. The Inspectors who might be appointed would\nnever be allowed to exercise any real control, and the rules which the\nState might prescribe would remain dead letter.\n\nIn the second place, under such an arrangement, the highest purpose for\nwhich the public schools exist would be defeated. Sectarian schools tend\nto separate the members of the various denominations from one another,\nand to hinder the growth of that spirit of national unity which it is,\non the other hand, the prime duty of the public school to create and\nfoster. The support of a system of public education out of the proceeds\nof taxation is justifiable in the last analysis as a measure dictated to\nthe State by the law of self-preservation. The State maintains public\nschools in order to preserve itself--i. e., its unity. And this is\nespecially true in a republic. In a monarchy the strong arm of the\nreigning dynasty, supported by a ruling class, may perhaps suppress\ndiscord, and hold the antagonistic elements among the people in\nsubjection by sheer force. In a republic only the spirit of unity among\nthe people themselves can keep them a people. And this spirit is\nfostered in public schools, where children of all classes and sects are\nbrought into daily, friendly contact, and where together they are\nindoctrinated into the history, tradition, and aspirations of the nation\nto which they belong.\n\nWhat then? We have seen that we can not encourage, that we can not\npermit, the establishment of sectarian schools at the public expense. We\nhave also seen that we can not teach religion in the public schools.\nMust we, therefore, abandon altogether the hope of teaching the elements\nof morals? Is not moral education conceded to be one of the most\nimportant, if not the most important, of all branches of education? Must\nwe forego the splendid opportunities afforded by the daily schools for\nthis purpose? Is there not a way of imparting moral instruction without\ngiving just offense to any religious belief or any religious believer,\nor doing violence to the rights of any sect or of any party whatsoever?\nThe correct answer to this question would be the solution of the problem\nof unsectarian moral education. I can merely state my answer to-day, in\nthe hope that the entire course before us may substantiate it. The\nanswer, as I conceive it, is this: It is the business of the moral\ninstructor in the school to deliver to his pupils the subject-matter of\nmorality, but not to deal with the sanctions of it; to give his pupils a\nclearer understanding of what _is_ right and what _is_ wrong, but not to\nenter into the question why the right should be done and the wrong\navoided. For example, let us suppose that the teacher is treating of\nveracity. He says to the pupil, Thou shalt not lie. He takes it for\ngranted that the pupil feels the force of this commandment, and\nacknowledges that he ought to yield obedience to it. For my part, I\nshould suspect of quibbling and dishonest intention any boy or girl who\nwould ask me, Why ought I not to lie? I should hold up before such a\nchild the Ought in all its awful majesty. The right to reason about\nthese matters can not be conceded until after the mind has attained a\ncertain maturity. And as a matter of fact every good child agrees with\nthe teacher unhesitatingly when he says, It is wrong to lie. There is an\nanswering echo in its heart which confirms the teacher's words. But\nwhat, then, is it my business as a moral teacher to do? In the first\nplace, to deepen the impression of the wrongfulness of lying, and the\nsacredness of truth, by the spirit in which I approach the subject. My\nfirst business is to convey the spirit of moral reverence to my pupils.\nIn the next place, I ought to quicken the pupil's perceptions of what is\nright and wrong, in the case supposed, of what is truth and what is\nfalsehood. Accordingly, I should analyze the different species of lies,\nwith a view of putting the pupils on their guard against the spirit of\nfalsehood, however it may disguise itself. I should try to make my\npupils see that, whenever they intentionally convey a false impression,\nthey are guilty of falsehood. I should try to make their minds\nintelligent and their consciences sensitive in the matter of\ntruth-telling, so that they may avoid those numerous ambiguities of\nwhich children are so fond, and which are practiced even by adults. I\nshould endeavor to tonic their moral nature with respect to\ntruthfulness. In the next place, I should point out to them the most\nfrequent motives which lead to lying, so that, by being warned against\nthe causes, they may the more readily escape the evil consequences. For\nexample, cowardice is one cause of lying. By making the pupil ashamed of\ncowardice, we can often cure him of the tendency to falsehood. A\nredundant imagination is another cause of lying, envy is another cause,\nselfishness in all its forms is a principal cause, etc. I should say to\nthe moral teacher: Direct the pupil's attention to the various dangerous\ntendencies in his nature, which tempt him into the ways of falsehood.\nFurthermore, explain to your pupils the consequences of falsehood: the\nloss of the confidence of our fellow-men, which is the immediate and\npalpable result of being detected in a lie; the injuries inflicted on\nothers; the loosening of the bonds of mutual trust in society at large;\nthe loss of self-respect on the part of the liar; the fatal necessity of\nmultiplying lies, of inventing new falsehoods to make good the first,\netc. A vast amount of good, I am persuaded, can be done in this way by\nstimulating the moral nature, by enabling the scholar to detect the\nfiner shades of right and wrong, helping him to trace temptation to its\nsource, and erecting in his mind barriers against evil-doing, founded on\na realizing sense of its consequences.\n\nIn a similar if not exactly the same way, all the other principal\ntopics of practical morality can be handled. The conscience can be\nenlightened, strengthened, guided, and all this can be done without once\nraising the question why it is wrong to do what is forbidden. That it is\nwrong should rather, as I have said, be assumed. The ultimate grounds of\nmoral obligation need never be discussed in school. It is the business\nof religion and philosophy to propose theories, or to formulate articles\nof belief with respect to the ultimate sources and sanctions of duty.\nReligion says we ought to do right because it is the will of God, or for\nthe love of Christ. Philosophy says we should do right for utilitarian\nor transcendental reasons, or in obedience to the law of evolution, etc.\nThe moral teacher, fortunately, is not called upon to choose between\nthese various metaphysical and theological asseverations. As an\nindividual he may subscribe to any one of them, but as a teacher he is\nbound to remain within the safe limits of his own province. He is not to\nexplain why we should do the right, but to make the young people who are\nintrusted to his charge see more clearly what is right, and to instill\ninto them his own love of and respect for the right. There is a body of\nmoral truth upon which all good men, of whatever sect or opinion, are\nagreed: _it is the business of the public schools to deliver to their\npupils this common fund of moral truth_. But I must hasten to add, to\ndeliver it not in the style of the preacher, but according to the\nmethods of the pedagogue--i. e., in a systematic way, the moral lessons\nbeing graded to suit the varying ages and capacities of the pupils, and\nthe illustrative material being sorted and arranged in like manner.\nConceive the modern educational methods to have been applied to that\nstock of moral truths which all good men accept, and you will have the\nmaterial for the moral lessons which are needed in a public school.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Since the above was written, the draft of the _Volksschulgesetz_\nsubmitted to the Prussian Legislature, and the excited debates to which\nit gave rise, have supplied a striking confirmation of the views\nexpressed in the text. Nothing could be more mistaken than to propose\nfor imitation elsewhere the German \"solution\" of the problem of moral\nteaching in schools, especially at a time when the Germans themselves\nare taking great pains to make it clear that they are as far as possible\nfrom having found a solution.\n\n[2] During the reactionary period which followed the Revolution of 1848,\nthe school regulations of Kur-Hessen provided that twenty hours a week\nbe devoted in the Volkschulen to religious teaching.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE EFFICIENT MOTIVES OF GOOD CONDUCT.\n\n\nThere are persons in whom moral principle seems to have completely\ntriumphed; whose conduct, so far as one can judge, is determined solely\nby moral rules; but whom, nevertheless, we do not wholly admire. We feel\ninstinctively that there is in their virtue a certain flaw--the absence\nof a saving grace. They are too rigorous, too much the slaves of duty.\nThey lack geniality.\n\nLike religion, morality has its fanatics. Thus, there is in the\ntemperance movement a class of fanatics who look at every public\nquestion from the point of view of temperance reform, and from that\nonly. There are also woman's-rights fanatics, social purity fanatics,\netc. The moral fanatic in every case is a person whose attention is\nwholly engrossed by some one moral interest, and who sees this out of\nits relation to other moral interests. The end he has in view may be in\nitself highly laudable, but the exaggerated emphasis put upon it, the\none-sided pursuit of it, is a mischievous error.\n\nObserve, further, that there are degrees of moral fanaticism. The\nfanatic of the first degree, to whom Emerson addresses the words, \"What\nright have you, sir, to your one virtue?\" has just been described. He\nis a person who exalts some one moral rule at the expense of the others.\nA fanatic of a higher order is he who exalts the whole body of moral\nrules at the expense of human instincts and desires. He is a person who\nalways acts according to rule; who introduces moral considerations into\nevery detail of life; who rides the moral hobby; in whose eyes the\ninfinite complexity of human affairs has only one aspect, namely, the\nmoral; who is never satisfied unless at every step he feels the strain\nof the bridle of conscience; who is incapable of spontaneous action and\nof _naive_ enjoyment. It is believed that there are not a few persons of\nthis description in the United States, and especially in the New England\nStates--fanatics on the moral side, examples of a one-sided development\nin the direction of moral formalism. We must be very careful, when\ninsisting on the authority of moral ideas, lest we encourage in the\nyoung a tendency of this sort. The hearts of children are very pliable;\nit is easily possible to produce on them too deep an impression: to give\nthem at the outset a fatal twist, all the more since at a certain age\nmany young people are prone to exaggerated introspection and\nself-questioning. But it may be asked: Are not moral principles really\nclothed with supreme authority? Ought we not, indeed, to keep the\nstandard of righteousness constantly before our eyes; in brief, is it\npossible to be too moral? Evidently we have reached a point where a\ndistinction requires to be drawn.\n\nEthics is a science of relations. The things related are human\ninterests, human ends. The ideal which ethics proposes to itself is the\nunity of ends, just as the ideal of science is the unity of causes. The\nends of the natural man are the subject-matter with which ethics deals.\nThe ends of the natural man are not to be crushed or wiped out, but to\nbe brought into right relations with one another. The ends of the\nnatural man are to be respected from an ethical point of view, so long\nas they remain within their proper limits. The moral laws are formulas\nexpressing relations of equality or subordination, or superordination.\nThe moral virtue of our acts consists in the respect which we pay to the\nsystem of relationships thus prescribed, in the willingness with which\nwe co-ordinate our interests with those of others, or subordinate them\nto those of others, as the exigencies of the moral situation may\nrequire.\n\nBut the point on which it is now necessary to fix our attention is that\nwhen morality has once sanctioned any of the ends of life, the natural\nman may be left to pursue them without interference on the part of the\nmoralist. When morality has marked out the boundaries within which the\ngiven end shall be pursued, its work so far is done; except, indeed,\nthat we are always to keep an eye upon those boundaries, and that the\nsense of their existence should pervade the whole atmosphere of our\nlives.[3] A few illustrations will make my meaning clear. There is a\nmoral rule which says that we should eat to live; not, conversely, live\nto eat. This means that we should regulate our food in such a way that\nthe body may become a fit instrument for the higher purposes of\nexistence, and that the time and attention bestowed upon the matter of\neating shall not be so great as to divert us from other and more\nnecessary objects. But, these limits being established, it does not\nfollow that it is wrong or unspiritual to enjoy a meal. The senses, even\nthe lowest of them, are permitted to have free play within the bounds\nprescribed. Nor, again, should we try rigidly to determine the choice of\nfood according to moral considerations. It would be ridiculous to\nattempt to do so. The choice of food within a wide range depends\nentirely on taste, and has nothing to do with moral considerations\n(whether, for instance, we should have squash or beans for dinner).\nThose who are deeply impressed with the importance of moral rules are\noften betrayed into applying them to the veriest minutiae of conduct. Did\nthey remember that ethics is a science of relations, or, what amounts to\nthe same thing, a science of limits, they would be saved such pedantry.\nUndoubtedly there are moral _adiaphora_. The fact that such exist has\nbeen a stumbling-block in the way of those who believe that morality\nought to cover the whole of conduct. The definition of ethics as a\nscience of relations or limits removes this stumbling-block. Ethics\nstands at the frontier. With what goes on in the interior it does not\ninterfere, except in so far as the limitations it prescribes are an\ninterference. Take another illustration. Ethics condemns vanity and\nwhatever ministers to vanity--as, e. g., undue attention to dress and\nadornment of the person--on the ground that this implies an immoral\nsubordination of the inner to the outer, of the higher to the lesser\nends. But, to lay down a cast-iron rule as to how much one has a right\nto expend on dress, can not be the office of ethics, on account of the\ninfinite variety of conditions and occupations which subsists among men.\nAnd the attempt to prescribe a single fashion of dress, by sumptuary\nlaws or otherwise, would impair that freedom of taste which it is the\nbusiness of the moralist to respect. Again, every one knows with what\nbitterness the moral rigorists of all ages have condemned the impulse\nwhich attracts the sexes toward one another, and how often they have\ntried, though vainly, to crush it. But here, again, the true attitude is\nindicated by the definition of ethics as a science of limits. The moral\nlaw prescribes bounds within which this emotional force shall be free to\noperate, and claims for it the holy name of love, so long as it remains\nwithin the bounds prescribed, and, being within, remains conscious of\nthem. That is what is meant when we speak of spiritualizing the\nfeelings. The feelings are spiritualized when they move within certain\nlimits, and when the sense of the existence of these limits penetrates\nthem, and thereby imparts to them a new and nobler quality. And, because\nsuch limitation is felt to be satisfying and elevating, the system of\ncorrelations which we call ethical, and which, abstractly stated, would\nfail to interest, does by this means find an entrance into the human\nheart, and awakens in it the sense of the sublimity and the blessedness\nof the moral commands.\n\nThere are two defects of the moral fanatic which can now be signalized:\nFirst, he wrongly believes that whatever is not of morality is against\nit. He therefore is tempted to frown upon the natural pleasures; to\nbanish them if he can, and, if not, to admit them only within the\nnarrowest possible limits as a reluctant concession to the weakness of\nhuman nature. In consequence, the moral fanatic commits the enormity of\nintroducing the taint of the sense of sin into the most innocent\nenjoyments, and thus perverts and distorts the conscience. Secondly, he\nis always inclined to seek a moral reason for that which has only a\nnatural one; to forget that, like the great conquerors of antiquity,\nMorality respects the laws of the several realms which it unites into a\nsingle empire, and guarantees to each the unimpaired maintenance of its\nlocal customs. These remarks are intended to serve as a general caution.\nI find that young people, when they have become awakened on ethical\nsubjects, often betray a tendency toward moral asceticism. I find that\nteachers, in the earnest desire to impress the laws of the moral empire,\nare sometimes betrayed into disregarding the provincial laws of the\nsenses, the intellect, and the feelings; are apt to go too far in\napplying moral prescriptions to the minutiae of conduct; are apt to leave\nthe impression that pleasant things, just because they are pleasant, are\ntherefore sinful.\n\nBut we have now to take a further step, which will bring us close to our\nspecial subject for to-day, viz., the efficient motives of good conduct.\nThe non-moral faculties are not only not anti-moral, as has been shown,\nbut, when appealed to in the right way, they lend to Morality a\nfriendly, an almost indispensable support. The aesthetic, the\nintellectual, and the emotional faculty have not in themselves a moral\nquality, but when used as auxiliaries they pave the way for moral\nconsiderations pure and simple, and have in this sense an immense\npropaedeutic value. Without entering in this place into the philosophy of\naesthetics, it is enough to say that the beautiful, like the good,\nresults from and depends on the observance of certain limits and certain\nrelations. And it will not seem far-fetched to suggest that pupils who\nhave been trained to appreciate moderation, restraint and harmony of\nrelations in external objects, will be predisposed to apply analogous\nmeasures to matters of conduct, and that a standard of valuation will\nthus be created in their minds which must prove favorable to right\naction. AEsthetics may become a pedagogue unto ethics. The same\npedagogical function may be claimed for the intellect. The intellect\ntraces the connection between causes and effects. Applied to conduct, it\nshows the connection between acts and their consequences. It is the\nfaculty which counsels prudence. One does not need to accept the\negoistic theory of morals to concede that self-interest is an ally of\nmorality, that Prudence and Virtue travel hand in hand a certain\ndistance on the same road. Not, indeed, until the ideal state shall have\nbeen reached will the dictates of the two ever coincide entirely; but to\na certain extent the coincidence already exists, and the moral teacher\nis justified in availing himself of it as far as it goes.\n\nTo take a very simple case--a child handles a knife which it has been\ntold not to touch, and cuts his fingers. Morally speaking, his fault is\ndisobedience. He would have been equally guilty if he had escaped\ninjury. But he would hardly be so ready to obey another time, if he had\nbeen less sharply reminded of the usefulness of obedience. It is wrong\nto lie--wrong on purely moral grounds, with which self-interest has\nnothing to do. But for all that we can not dispense with the lesson\ncontained in the well-known fable of the boy who cried, \"Wolf!\" It is\nwrong to steal on purely moral grounds. But even a child can be made to\nunderstand that the thief, as Emerson puts it, \"steals from himself,\"\nand that, besides being a rogue, he is deficient in enlightened\nself-interest. The maxim that honesty is the best policy is true enough\nso far as the facts are concerned, which come under the observation of\nchildren, though one may question whether it be true absolutely.\n\nLastly, when we come to consider the emotional faculty, we find that\nthe intimate connection between it and the moral is so generally\nconceded as to make it quite superfluous to expatiate on it. On the\ncontrary, it seems necessary to expostulate with those who claim too\nmuch credit for the feelings, who ascribe to them a moral value which\nthey by no means possess. Thus, gentleness is not necessarily a virtue;\nit may be a mere matter of temperament. Sympathetic impulses, _per se_,\nare not praiseworthy. Sympathy quite as often leads us astray as aright;\nsympathy, indeed, unless tutored and regulated by moral principles, is a\ndanger against which we ought to be on our guard almost as much as\nagainst selfishness. Yet, no one will deny that the feelings, when\nrightly trained, are of inestimable service as auxiliaries in the task\nof moral education.\n\nTo sum up, let me say that the wise teacher will appeal to the taste,\nthe intelligence, and the feelings of his pupils; that he will touch\nthese various springs of conduct all the time, and get from them all the\nhelp he can. Thus, when speaking of cleanliness, he will appeal to the\naesthetic instinct of the children, awakening in them a feeling of\ndisgust at untidiness. He will appeal to the prudential motive, by\nshowing that want of cleanliness breeds disease. \"You do not wish to be\nsick? You do not wish to suffer? Therefore, it is to your interest to be\nclean.\" But, finally, he will touch a higher motive than any of these.\n\"If you are unclean, you cease to respect yourself.\" And the term\nself-respect expresses in a condensed form the moral motive proper. It\nimplies the idea of moral personality, which it is not necessary, nor\npossible, at this stage to analyze, but which the pupil will somehow\nunderstand, for his conscience will respond. In many cases the appeal\nwill be made chiefly to the sympathetic feelings; for through these\nfeelings we become aware of the pains and joys of others, and thus of\nthe consequences of the benefits we confer or the evil we inflict. The\nsympathetic feelings supply the information upon which the will can act.\nThey tell us that others suffer or are glad. And yet the strength to\nlabor persistently for the relief of others' suffering and the\nenhancement of others' joy--that we can derive from the moral impulse\nalone.\n\nThe moral motive is the highest, it is really the only sufficient\nmotive. Pray, understand me well at this point. I should say to the\nchild: It is wrong to lie. That is sufficient. It is wrong, it is\nforbidden; you must yourself acknowledge the truth of my words, because\nyou despise yourself when you have told a lie. But, in order to\nstrengthen your weak resolution, to confirm you in well-doing, let me\nshow you that it is also contrary to self-interest to lie, and likewise\nthat it is disgusting to be unclean, and that a wrong done to another\ncauses pain. Thus the aesthetic, intellectual, and emotional faculties\nare called in as witnesses to bear testimony to the moral truths; they\nare invited to stand up in chorus and say Amen! to the moral commands.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[3] It must be remembered also that our knowledge of the right ethical\nrelations is still extremely imperfect, and that the duty of extending\nthe knowledge and promoting the recognition of them is perhaps the\nhighest of all--to which, on occasion, every lesser end must be\nsacrificed.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nOPPORTUNITIES FOR MORAL TRAINING IN THE DAILY SCHOOL.\n\n\nThe school should be to the pupil not an intellectual drill-ground, but\na second home; a place dear at the time, and to be gratefully remembered\never after; a place in which his whole nature, and especially what is\nbest in him, may expand and grow. The educational aim should be, not\nmerely to pave the pupil's way to future success, not merely to make of\nhis mind a perfect instrument of thought, a kind of intellectual loom,\ncapable of turning out the most complicated intellectual patterns. The\naim should be, above all; to build up manhood, to develop character.\nThere is no school in which moral influence is wanting. The pity is,\nthat in many schools it is incidental, not purposed. And yet there are\nmanifold opportunities in every school for influencing the moral life.\nLet us consider a few of these.\n\n_1._ The teaching of _science_ lends itself to the cultivation of\ntruthfulness. Truthfulness may be defined as the correspondence between\nthought and word and fact. When the thought in the mind fits the fact,\nand the word on the tongue fits the thought, then the circuit of truth\nis complete. Now, with respect to the inculcating of truthfulness,\nscience teaching has this advantage above other branches, that the\npalpable nature of the facts dealt with makes it possible to note and\ncheck the least deviation from the truth. The fact is present, right\nbefore the pupil, to rebuke him if he strays from it in thought or\nspeech. And this circumstance may be utilized even in the humble\nbeginnings of science teaching, in the so-called object-lessons. For\ninstance, a bird, or the picture of one, is placed before the child. The\nteacher says, \"Observe closely and tell me exactly what you see--the\nlength of the neck, the curve of the beak, the colors of the plumage,\"\netc. The pupil replies. The teacher objects: \"You have not observed\naccurately. The color is not what you describe it to be. Look again. The\ncurve of the beak does not resemble what you have just drawn on the\nblackboard. You must tell me exactly what you see. Your words must tally\nwith the facts.\" And the same sort of practice may be continued in the\nscience-lessons of the upper classes.\n\nScientists are distinguished from other observers by their greater\naccuracy. Intellectual honesty is that moral quality which science is\nbest calculated to foster. All the great scientists have been haunted by\na high ideal of truth, and a gleam of that ideal, however faint, may be\nmade to shed its light even into the school-room. It is obvious that\nthis realistic tutoring into veracity will be of special use to children\nwho are led into lying by a too vivid imagination.\n\nLet me add the following remarks in regard to indirect means of\npromoting truthfulness: The teacher can do a great deal to cultivate\nrespect for the truth among his pupils by frankly admitting an error\nwhenever he has fallen into one. Some teachers try to save their dignity\nby glossing over their mistakes. But even young children are shrewd\nenough to estimate such trickery at its worth; while he who manfully\nconfesses that he has been in the wrong, earns the respect of his class,\nand sets them an invaluable example.\n\nIt is well also to observe strict accuracy even in matters which of\nthemselves are of no moment. For instance, in giving an account of a\nbotanizing expedition, you begin, perhaps, by saying, \"It was half-past\nten when we arrived at our destination.\" Suddenly you stop and correct\nyourself. \"No, I was mistaken; it could not have been later than ten\no'clock.\" Does this strike you as pedantic? But if you fix the time at\nall, is it not worth while to fix it with approximate exactness? True,\nit makes no difference in regard to what you are about to relate,\nwhether you arrived at half-past ten or at ten. But, precisely because\nit makes no difference, it shows the value which you set on accuracy\neven in trifles. And by such little turns of phrase, by such\ninsubstantial influences, coming from the teacher, the pupil's character\nis molded.\n\n_2._ _The study of history_, when properly conducted is of high moral\nvalue. History sets before the mind examples of heroism, of\nself-sacrifice, of love of country, of devotion to principles at the\ngreatest cost. How can such examples fail to inspire, to ennoble, to\nawaken emulation? The great and good men of the past, the virtuous and\nthe wise, serve as models to the young, and often arouse in them an\nenthusiastic admiration, a passionate discipleship. In the next place,\nthe study of history may be used to exercise the moral judgment. The\ncharacters which history presents are not all good; the characters even\nof the good are by no means faultless. It is in the power of the teacher\nto train the moral judgment and to increase the moral insight of his\npupils by leading them to enter into the motives, and to weigh the right\nand wrong of the actions which history reports. He will also find many\nan occasion to warn against being dazzled by brilliant success to such a\ndegree as to condone the moral turpitude by which it is often bought.\nThe study of history can thus be made the means of enlightening the\nconscience as well as of awakening generous aspirations--but, let me\nhasten to add, only in the hands of a teacher who is himself morally\nmature, and fully imbued with the responsibilities of his task. Lastly,\nthe study of history among advanced pupils may be used to confirm the\nmoral idea of the mission of mankind, and to set it in its true light.\nThe human race, as, from the moral point of view, we are bound to\nassume, exists on earth in order to attempt the solution of a sublime\nproblem--the problem of the perfect civilization, the just society, the\n\"kingdom of God.\" But on every page of history there are facts that warn\nus that progress toward this high ideal is of necessity slow. Whether\nwe review the evolution of religion, or of political institutions, or of\nindustrial society, we are still forced to the same solemn conclusion,\nthat in view of the ultimate goal, \"a thousand years are as a day,\" and\nthat while we may not relax our efforts to attain the ideal, we must be\nwell content in case we are permitted to advance the mighty work even a\nlittle. This conviction is calculated to engender in us a new spirit of\npiety and self-abnegation, which yet is consistent with perfect alacrity\nin discharging the duty of the hour.\n\nThere could be no better result from the study of history among young\nmen and young women than if it should have the effect of impressing on\nthem this new piety, this genuine historic sense, in which the average\ncitizen, especially of democratic communities, is so conspicuously\ndeficient. But this is a digression which I must ask you to pardon.\n\n_3._ The moral value of the _study of literature_ is as great as it is\nobvious. Literature is the medium through which all that part of our\ninner life finds expression which defies scientific formulation. In the\ntext-books of science we possess the net result of the purely\nintellectual labors of the past; in universal literature we have\ncomposite photographs, as it were, of the typical hopes, sentiments, and\naspirations of the race. Literature gives a voice to that within us\nwhich would otherwise remain dumb, and fixity to that which would\notherwise be evanescent. The best literature, and especially the best\npoetry, is a glass in which we see our best selves reflected. There is\na legend which tells of two spirits, the one an angel, the other a\ndemon, that accompany every human being through life, and walk invisibly\nat his side. The one represents our bad self, the other our better self.\nThe moral service which the best literature renders us is to make the\ninvisible angel visible.\n\n_4._ I can but cast a cursory glance at some of the remaining branches\nof instruction.\n\n_Manual training_ has a moral effect upon the pupil, of which I have\nspoken at some length on another occasion.[4]\n\n_Music_, apart from its subtler influences, which can not be considered\nhere, has the special function of producing in the pupil a feeling of\noneness with others, or of social unity. This is best accomplished\nthrough the instrumentality of chorus singing, while particular moral\nsentiments, like charity, love of home, etc., can be inculcated by means\nof the texts.\n\n_Gymnastic_ exercises likewise have a moral effect in promoting habits\nof self-control, prompt obedience at the word of command, etc. Indeed,\nit is not difficult to show the moral bearings of the ordinary branches\nof instruction. It would, on the contrary, be difficult to find a single\none, which, when rightly viewed, is not surrounded by a moral\nphotosphere.\n\nScience, history, literature, and the other branches lend themselves in\nvarious ways to the development of character. But there are certain\nother opportunities which every school offers, apart from the teaching,\nand these may be utilized to the same end. The discipline of the school,\nabove all, has an immense effect on the character. If it is of the right\nkind, a beneficial effect; if not, a most pernicious one.\n\nThe mere working of what may be called the school machinery tends to\ninculcate habits of order, punctuality, and the like. The aggregation of\na large number of scholars in the same building and their intercourse\nwith one another under the eye of the teachers, afford frequent\nopportunities for impressing lessons of kindness, politeness, mutual\nhelpfulness, etc.\n\nThe recitations of lessons give occasion not only to suppress prompting,\nbut to eradicate the motives which lead to it, and to impress deeply the\nduty of honesty.\n\nThe very atmosphere of the class-room should be such as to encourage\nmoral refinement; it should possess a sunny climate, so to speak, in\nwhich meanness and vulgarity can not live.\n\nBut there is especially one avenue of influence, which I have much at\nheart to recommend. The teacher should join in the _games_ of his\npupils. He will thus at once come to stand on a friendly footing with\nthem, and win their confidence, without in the least derogating from his\nproper dignity. And thus will be removed that barrier which in many\nschools separates pupils and teachers to such a degree that there\nactually seem to exist side by side two worlds--the world to which the\nteacher has access, and the world from which he is shut out. Moreover,\nwhile they are at play, the true character of the pupils reveals itself.\nAt such times the sneak, the cheat, the bully, the liar, shows his true\ncolors, and the teacher has the best opportunity of studying these\npathological subjects and of curing their moral defects. For, while\nplaying with them, as one concerned in the game, he has the right to\ninsist on fair dealing, to express his disgust at cowardice, to take the\npart of the weak against the strong, and his words spoken on the\nplayground will have tenfold the effect of any hortatory address which\nhe might deliver from the platform. The greatest and most successful of\nteachers have not disdained to use this device.\n\nFinally, let me say that the personality of the master or principal of\nthe school is the chief factor of moral influence in it. Put a great,\nsound, whole-souled nature at the head of a school, and everything else\nmay almost be taken for granted. In every school there exists a public\nopinion among the scholars, by which they are affected to a far greater\ndegree than by the words of their superiors. The tactful master will\ndirect his chief attention to shaping and improving this public opinion,\nwhile at the same time interfering as little as possible with the\nfreedom of his pupils. He can accomplish his purpose by drawing close to\nhimself those scholars who make the public opinion of the school, and\nthese in turn he can win to fine and manly views only by the effect of\nhis personality. The personality of the head-master is everything. It is\nthe ultimate source of power in the school, the central organ which\nsends out its life-giving currents through the whole organism. And let\nme here add that, if I am in favor of excluding direct religious\nteaching from our schools, I am not in favor of excluding religious\ninfluence. That, too, flows from the personality of the true master. For\nif he be reverent, a truly pious soul, humble in his estimate of self,\nnot valuing his petty schoolmaster's authority on its own account, but\nusing it lovingly as an instrument for higher ends, he will be sure to\ncommunicate of his spirit to his pupils, and by that spirit will open\ntheir hearts, better than by any doctrinal teaching he could give, to\nthe reception of the highest spiritual truths.\n\nBy all these means--by the culture of the intellect, the taste, and the\nfeelings, by his daily dealings with the young, in work and play--the\nteacher helps to create in them certain moral habits. Why, then, should\nnot these habits suffice? What need is there of specific moral\ninstruction? And what is the relation of moral instruction to the habits\nthus engendered?\n\nThe function of moral instruction is to clinch the habits. The function\nof moral instruction is to explicate in clear statements, fit to be\ngrasped by the intellect, the laws of duty which underlie the habits.\nThe value of such intellectual statements is that they give a rational\nunderpinning to moral practice, and, furthermore, that they permit the\nmoral rules to be applied to new cases not heretofore brought within the\nscope of habit. This thought will be more fully developed and explained\nas we proceed.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[4] In the address on the subject, reprinted in the Appendix.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nCLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES.\n\n\nThe topics of which moral instruction treats are the duties of life. To\nteach the duties, however, we must adopt some system of classification.\nTo which system shall we give the preference? The difficulty which we\nencountered at the outset seems to meet us here in a new guise.\n\nFor most if not all of the systems of classification commonly proposed\nare based upon some metaphysical theory or some theological doctrine. To\nadopt any one of these would be tantamount to adopting the theory or\ntheology on which it is founded; would be equivalent to introducing\nsurreptitiously a particular philosophy or creed into the minds of the\npupils; and this would be a plain departure from the unsectarian\nprinciple to which we are pledged. Thus, Plato's fourfold division of\nthe virtues into the so-called cardinal virtues of temperance, courage,\njustice, wisdom, is based on his psychology. Aristotle's division of the\nvirtues into dianoetic and what he calls ethical virtues is clearly\ndependent on what may be termed Aristotle's intellectualism--i. e., the\nsupreme importance which he assigns to the functions of the intellect,\nor [Greek: nous], in the attainment of the perfect life.\n\nKant's division of duties into complete and incomplete is an outgrowth\nof the ideas developed in his Critique of Pure Reason; the philosopher\nHerbart's fivefold classification reflects his metaphysical theory of\nreality; while the systems of ethical classification which are to be\nfound in theological handbooks betray still more clearly the bias of\ntheir authors.\n\nWe can, I think, find a simple way out of this difficulty by proceeding\nin the following manner: Let us take for our guidance the objects to\nwhich duty relates, and disregard the sources from which it flows. It is\nconceded on all hands that every one is to himself an object of duty,\nthat he has certain duties to perform with respect to himself, as, for\ninstance, the duty of intellectual development; furthermore, that every\nperson owes certain duties to his fellow-men generally, in virtue of the\nfact that they are human beings; again, that there are special duties\nwhich we owe to particular persons, such as parents, brothers, and\nsisters; finally, that there are certain duties, into which, so to\nspeak, we are born, like the ones last mentioned, and others which we\ncan freely assume or not, like the conjugal duties, but which, once\nassumed, become as binding as the former. Thus the very structure of\nhuman society suggests a scheme of classification. And this scheme has\nthe advantage of being a purely objective one. It keeps close to the\nfacts, it is in harmony with the unsectarian principle, and it is\nperfectly fair. It leaves the problem of first principles entirely\nuntouched. That we have such duties to perform with respect to self and\nothers, no one questions. Let philosophers differ as to the ultimate\nmotives of duty. Let them reduce the facts of conscience to any set of\nfirst principles which may suit them. It is our part as instructors to\ninterpret the facts of conscience, not to seek for them an ultimate\nexplanation.\n\nLet me briefly indicate how the different duties may be made to fall\ninto line according to the plan of classification which has just been\nsuggested. The whole field of duty may be divided into three main\nprovinces:[5] those duties which relate to ourselves, those which we owe\nto all men, and those which arise in the special relations of the\nfamily, the state, etc.:\n\nI. The Self-regarding Duties.\n\nThese may again be subdivided into duties relating to our physical\nnature, to the intellect, and to the feelings.\n\nUnder the head of physical duties belong the prohibition of suicide, and\nthe duties of physical culture, temperance, and chastity.\n\nIntellectual Duties.--Under this head may be ranged the duty of\nacquiring knowledge and the subsidiary duties of order, diligence,\nperseverance in study; while, for those who are beyond the school age,\nspecial stress should be laid on the duty of mental genuineness. This\nmay be expressed in the words: To thine own mental self be true. Study\nthine own mental bent. Try to discover in what direction thy proper\ntalent lies, and make the most of it. Work thine own mine: if it be a\ngold-mine, bring forth gold; if it be a silver-mine, bring forth silver;\nif it be an iron-mine, bring forth iron. Endeavor to master some one\nbranch of knowledge thoroughly well. It is for thee the key which opens\nthe gates of all knowledge. The need of general culture is felt by all,\nbut the concentration of intellectual efforts on special studies is not\ninconsistent with it. On the contrary, special studies alone enable us\nto gain a foothold in the realm of knowledge. A branch of knowledge\nwhich we have mastered, however small, may be compared to a strong\nfortress in an enemy's country, from which we can sally forth at will to\nconquer the surrounding territory. Knowledge may also be likened to a\nsphere. From every point of the circumference we can, by persistent\nlabor, dig down to the center. He who has reached the center commands\nthe sphere.\n\nDuties which relate to the Feelings.--The principal duty under this head\nmay be expressed in the twofold command--control and purify thy\nfeelings! The feelings which need to be repressed are anger, fear,\nself-complacency. Let the teacher, when he reaches this point, dwell\nupon the causes and the consequences of anger. Let him speak of certain\nhelps which have been found useful for the suppression of angry passion.\nLet him distinguish anger from moral indignation.\n\nIn dealing with fear let him pursue the same method. Let him distinguish\nphysical from moral cowardice, brute courage from moral courage, courage\nfrom fortitude.\n\nIn dealing with self-complacency let him discriminate between vanity and\npride, between pride and dignity. Let him show that humility and dignity\nare consistent with one another, yes, that they are complementary\naspects of one and the same moral quality. Not the least advantage to be\nreaped from lessons on duty is the fixing in the pupil's mind of the\nmoral vocabulary. The moral terms as a rule are loosely used, and this\ncan not but lead to confusion in their application. Precise definitions,\nbased on thorough discussion, are an excellent means of moral\ntraining.[6]\n\nII. The duties which we owe to all men are Justice and Charity:\n\nBe just is equivalent to--Do not hinder the development of any of thy\nfellow-men. Be charitable is equivalent to--Assist the development of\nthy fellow-men. Under the head of charity the teacher will have\noccasion to speak not only of almsgiving, the visitation of the sick,\nand the like, but of the thousand charities of the fireside, of the\ncharity of bright looks, of what may be called intellectual charity,\nwhich consists in opening the eyes of the mentally blind, and of the\nnoblest charity of all, which consists in coming to the aid of those who\nare deep in the slough of moral despond, in raising the sinful and\nfallen.\n\nIII. Special social duties:\n\nUnder this head belong the duties which arise in the family: the\nconjugal, the parental, the filial, the fraternal duties.\n\nUnder the head of duties peculiar to the various avocations should be\ndiscussed the ethics of the professions, the ethics of the relations\nbetween employers and laborers, etc.\n\nThe consideration of the duties of the citizen opens up the whole\nterritory of political ethics.\n\nLastly, the purely elective relationships of friendship and religious\nfellowship give rise to certain fine and lofty ethical conceptions, the\ndiscussion of which may fitly crown the whole course.\n\nI have thus mentioned some of the main topics of practical ethics, from\nwhich we are to make our selection for the moral lessons.\n\nBut a selective principle is needed. The field being spread out before\nus, the question arises, At what point shall we enter it? What topics\nshall we single out? It would be manifestly absurd, for instance, to\ntreat of international ethics, or of conjugal ethics, in a course\nintended for children. But especially the order in which the different\ntopics are to follow each other needs to be determined. The order\nfollowed in the above sketch is a purely logical one, and the logical\narrangement of a subject, as every educator knows, is not usually the\none most suitable for bringing it within reach of the understanding of\nchildren. It would not be in the present instance. Clearly a selective\nprinciple is wanted.\n\nLet me here interrupt myself for a moment to say that the problem which\nwe are attacking, so far from being solved, has heretofore hardly even\nbeen stated. And this is due to the fact that moral instruction has been\nthus far almost entirely in the hands of persons whose chief interest\nwas religious, and who, whatever their good intentions might be, were\nhardly qualified to look at the subject from the educator's point of\nview. The work of breaking ground in the matter of moral instruction has\nstill to be done. As to the selective principle which I have in view I\nfeel a certain confidence in its correctness; but I am aware that the\napplications of it will doubtless require manifold amendment and\ncorrection, for which purpose I invoke the experience and honest\ncriticism of my fellow-teachers. This being understood, I venture to ask\nyour attention to the following considerations:\n\nThe life of every human being naturally divides itself into distinct\nperiods--infancy, childhood, youth, etc. Each period has a set of\ninterests and of corresponding duties peculiar to itself. The moral\nteaching should be graded according to periods. The teaching\nappropriate to any period is that which bears upon the special duties of\nthat period. To illustrate, the ethics of childhood may be summarized as\nfollows: The personal duties of a child are chiefly the observance of a\nfew simple rules of health and the curbing of its temper. It owes social\nduties to parents, brothers and sisters, and kinsfolk, to its playmates,\nand to servants. The child is not yet a citizen, and the ethics of\npolitics, therefore, lie far beyond its horizon; it does not yet require\nto be taught professional ethics, and does not need to learn even the\nelements of intellectual duty, because its energies are still absorbed\nin physical growth and play. The duties of childhood can be readily\nstated. The peculiar duties of the subsequent stages of development, for\ninstance, of middle life and old age, are complex, and not so easy to\ndefine. But I believe that the attempt to describe them will throw light\non many recondite problems in ethics.\n\nMy first point therefore is, that the moral teaching at a given period\nshould be made to fit the special duties of that period. Secondly--and\nthis touches the core of the matter--in every period of life there is\nsome one predominant duty around which all the others may be grouped, to\nwhich as a center they may be referred. Thus, the paramount duty of the\nyoung child is to reverence and obey its parents. The relation of\ndependence in which it stands naturally prescribes this duty, and all\nits other duties can be deduced from and fortified by this one. The\ncorrectness of its personal habits and of its behavior toward others\ndepends primarily on its obedience to the parental commands. The child\nresists the temptation to do what is wrong, chiefly because it respects\nthe authority and desires to win the approbation of father and mother.\nSecondary motives are not wanting, but reverence for parents is the\nprincipal one.\n\nThirdly, in each new period there emerges a new paramount ethical\ninterest, a new center of duties. But with the new system of duties thus\ncreated the previous ethical systems are to be brought into line, into\nharmonious correlation. And this will be all the more feasible, because\nthe faithful performance of the duties of any one period is the best\npreparation for the true understanding and fulfillment of those of the\nnext. From these statements the following conclusions may be drawn with\nrespect to the question under discussion--namely, the proper sequence of\nthe topics of duty in a course of moral lessons.\n\nThe moral lessons being given in school, must cover the duties which are\npeculiar to the school age. The paramount duty should be placed in the\nforeground. Now the paramount duty of children between six and fourteen\nyears of age is to acquire knowledge. Hence we begin the lessons with\nthe subject of intellectual duty. In the next place, the duties learned\nin the previous periods are to be brought into line with the duties of\nthe school age. At each new step on the road of ethical progress the\nmoral ideas already acquired are to be reviewed, confirmed, and to\nreceive a higher interpretation.\n\nWe have already seen that, before the child enters school, its personal\nduties are such as relate to the physical life and the feelings, and its\nchief social duties are the filial and fraternal.\n\nTherefore, the order of topics for the lessons thus far stands: The duty\nof acquiring knowledge; the duties which relate to the physical life;\nthe duties which relate to the feelings; the filial duties; the\nfraternal duties.\n\nAgain, a child that has learned to respect the rights of its brothers\nand sisters, and to be lovingly helpful to them, will in school take the\nright attitude toward its companions. The fraternal duties are typical\nof the duties which we owe to all our companions, and, indeed, to all\nhuman beings.\n\nThe next topic of the lessons, therefore, will be the duties which we\nowe to all human beings.\n\nFinally, life in school prepares for life in society and in the state,\nand so this course of elementary moral lesson will properly close with\n\"The elements of civic duty.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[5] It may be urged by some that duties toward God ought to be included\nin such a scheme of moral lessons as we are proposing. I should say,\nhowever, that the discussion of these duties belongs to the\nSunday-schools, the existence of which alongside the daily schools is\n_presupposed throughout the present course of lectures_.\n\n[6] The duties which relate to the moral nature, as a whole, such for\ninstance as the duty of self-scrutiny, may be considered either at the\nend of the chapter on self-regarding duties, or at the close of the\nwhole course.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nTHE MORAL OUTFIT OF CHILDREN ON ENTERING SCHOOL.\n\n\nIt is difficult to trace the beginnings of the moral life in children.\nThe traveler who attempts to follow some great river to its source\ngenerally finds himself confused by the number of ponds and springs\nwhich are pointed out to him with the assurance in the case of each that\nthis and no other is the real source. In truth, the river is fed not\nfrom one source but from many, and does not attain its unity and\nindividuality until it has flowed for some distance on its way. In like\nmanner, the moral life is fed by many springs, and does not assume its\ndistinctive character until after several years of human existence have\nelapsed. The study of the development of conscience in early childhood\nis a study of origins, and these are always obscure. But, besides, the\nattention hitherto given to this subject has been entirely inadequate,\nand even the attempts to observe in a systematic way the moral\nmanifestations of childhood have been few.\n\nParents and teachers should endeavor to answer such questions as these:\nWhen do the first stirrings of the moral sense appear in the child? How\ndo they manifest themselves? What are the emotional and the\nintellectual equipments of the child at different periods, and how do\nthese correspond with its moral outfit? At what time does conscience\nenter on the scene? To what acts or omissions does the child apply the\nterms right and wrong? If observations of this kind were made with care\nand duly recorded, the science of education would have at its disposal a\nconsiderable quantity of material from which no doubt valuable\ngeneralizations might be deduced. Every mother especially should keep a\ndiary in which to note the successive phases of her child's physical,\nmental, and moral growth; with particular attention to the moral; so\nthat parents may be enabled to make a timely forecast of their\nchildrens' characters, to foster in them every germ of good, and by\nprompt precautions to suppress, or at least restrain, what is bad.\n\nI propose in the present lecture to cast a glance at the moral training\nwhich the normal child receives before it enters school, and the moral\noutfit which it may be expected to bring with it at the time of\nentering. Fortunately, it is not necessary to go very deeply into the\nstudy of development of conscience for this purpose. A few main points\nwill suffice for our guidance.\n\n_First Point._--The moral training of a child can be begun in its\ncradle. Regularity is favorable to morality. Regularity acts as a check\non impulse. A child should receive its nourishment at stated intervals;\nit should become accustomed to sleep at certain hours, etc. If it\nprotests, as it often does vigorously enough, its protests should be\ndisregarded. After a while its cries will cease, it will learn to submit\nto the rule imposed, and the taking of pleasure in regularity and the\nsense of discomfort when the usual order is interrupted become\nthenceforth a part of its mental life. I do not maintain that regularity\nitself is moral, but that it is favorable to morality because it curbs\ninclination. I do not say that rules are always good, but that the life\nof impulse is always bad. Even when we do the good in an impulsive way\nwe are encouraging in ourselves a vicious habit. Good conduct consists\nin regulating our life according to good principles; and a willingness\nto abide by rules is the first, the indispensable condition of moral\ngrowth. Now, the habit of yielding to rules may be implanted in a child\neven in the cradle.\n\n_Second Point._--A very young child--one not older than a year and a\nhalf--can be taught to obey, to yield to the parent's will. A child a\nyear and a half old is capable of adhering to its own will in defiance\nof the expressed will of father or mother. In this case it should be\nconstrained to yield. We shall never succeed in making of it a moral\nperson if it does not realize betimes that there exists a higher law\nthan the law of its will. And of this higher law, throughout childhood,\nthe parent is, as it were, the embodiment. When I say that obedience can\nbe exacted of a child of such tender age, that a child so young is\ncapable of deliberately opposing the will of the parent, I speak from\nexperience. I know a certain little lady who undertook a struggle with\nher father precisely in the way described. The struggle lasted fully\nthirty-five minutes by the clock. But when it was over, the child\nstretched out her little arms and put up her lips to be kissed, and for\ndays after fairly clung to her father, showing him her attachment in the\nmost demonstrative manner. Nor should this increase of affectionateness\nexcite surprise--it is the proper result of a conflict of this sort\nbetween father and child when conducted in the right spirit. The child\nis happy to be freed from the sway of its wayward caprice, to feel that\nits feeble will has been taken up into a will larger and stronger than\nits own.\n\n_Third Point._--What is called conscience does not usually begin to show\nitself until the child is about three years old. At this age the concept\nself usually emerges, and the child begins to use the personal pronoun\nI. This is one of these critical turning points in human development, of\nwhich there are several. The beginning of adolescence marks another. I\nam inclined to suspect that there is one at or about thirty-three. There\nseem to be others later on. At any rate the first turning point--that\nwhich occurs at three--is marked unmistakably. At this time, as we have\njust said, the child begins to be distinctly self-conscious; it says\n\"I,\" and presently \"you,\" \"he,\" and \"they.\" Now, moral rules formulate\nthe relations which ought to subsist between one's self and others, and\nto comprehend the rules it is clearly necessary to be able to hold apart\nin the mind and to contrast with one another the persons related. It is\nevident, therefore, that the emergence of the concept self must have a\ndecided effect on moral development.\n\nI feel tempted to pause here a moment and to say a word in passing about\nthe extreme importance of the constituent elements of the concept self.\nFor it must not be supposed that the pronoun \"I\" means the same thing on\nthe lips of every person who uses it. \"I\" is a label denoting a mass of\nassociated ideas, and as these ideas are capable of almost endless\nvariation, so the notion of selfhood is correspondingly diversified in\ndifferent individuals. In the case of children, perhaps the principal\nconstituents of the concept are supplied by their outward appearance and\nenvironment. When a child speaks of itself, it thinks primarily of its\nbody, especially its face, then of the clothes it usually wears, the\nhouse it lives in, the streets through which it habitually walks, its\nparents, brothers, sisters, school-masters, etc.[7] If we analyze the\nmeaning of \"I\" in the case of two children, the one well-born and well\nbrought up, the other without these advantages, we shall perhaps find\nsuch differences as the following: \"I\" in the one case will mean a being\nliving in a certain decent and comfortable house, always wearing neat\nclothing, surrounded by parents, brothers, and sisters who speak kindly\nto one another and have gentle manners, etc. In the other case, the\nconstituents of the concept self may be very different. \"I\" in the case\nof the second child may mean a creature that lives in a dark, filthy\nhovel and walks every day through narrow streets, reeking with garbage.\n\"I\" may mean the child of a father who comes home drunk and strikes the\nmother when the angry fit is upon him. \"I\" stands for a poor waif that\nwears torn clothes, and when he sits in school by the side of\nwell-dressed children is looked at askance and put to shame. It is\nobvious that the elements which go to make up the concept self affect\nthe child's moral nature by lowering or raising its self-esteem. I\nremember the case of one, who as a boy was the laughing-stock of his\nclass on account of the old-fashioned, ill-fitting clothes which he was\ncompelled to wear, and who has confessed that even late in life he could\nnot entirely overcome the effect of this early humiliation, and that he\ncontinued to be painfully aware in himself, in consequence, of a certain\nlack of ease and self-possession. Hence we should see to it that the\nconstituent elements of the concept self are of the right kind. It is a\nmistake to suppose that the idea of selfhood stands off independently\nfrom the elements of our environment. The latter enter into, and when\nthey are bad eat into, the very kernel of our nature.\n\nWe have seen that the development of the intellect as it appears in the\ngrowing distinctness of self-consciousness exercises an important\ninfluence on the development of the moral faculty. But there is still\nanother way in which this influence becomes apparent. The function of\nconscience further depends on the power of keeping alternative courses\nof action before the mind. Angels capable only of the good, or fiends\nactuated exclusively by malice, could not be called moral creatures. A\nmoral act always presupposes a previous choice between two possible\nlines of action. And until the power of holding the judgment in\nsuspense, of hesitating between alternative lines of conduct, has been\nacquired, conscience, strictly speaking, does not manifest itself. We\nmay say that the voice of conscience begins to be heard when, the parent\nbeing absent, the child hesitates between a forbidden pleasure and\nobedience to the parental command. Of course, not every choice between\nalternative courses is a moral act. If any one hesitates whether to\nremain at home or to go for a walk, whether to take a road to the right\nor to the left, the decision is morally indifferent. But whenever one of\nthe alternative courses is good and the other bad, conscience does come\ninto play.\n\nAt this point, however, the question forcibly presents itself, How does\nit come to pass in the experience of children that they learn to regard\ncertain lines of action as good and others as bad? You will readily\nanswer, The parent characterizes certain acts as good and others as bad,\nand the child accepts his definition; and this is undoubtedly true. The\nparent's word is the main prop of the budding conscience. But how comes\nthe parent's word to produce belief? This is indeed the crucial\nquestion touching the development of the moral faculty. Mr. Bain says\nthat the child fears the punishment which the parent will inflict in\ncase of disobedience; that the essential form and defining quality of\nconscience from first to last is of the nature of dread. He seems to\nclassify the child's conscience with the criminal conscience, the rebel\nconscience which must be energized by the fear of penalties. But this\nexplanation seems very unsatisfactory. Every one, of course, must admit\nthat the confirmations of experience tend greatly to strengthen the\nparent's authority. The parent says, You must be neat. The child, if it\ndoes as it is bidden, finds an aesthetic pleasure in its becoming\nappearance. The parent says, You must not strike your little brother,\nbut be kind to him; and the child, on restraining its anger, is\ngratified by the loving words and looks which it receives in return. The\nparent says, You must not touch the stove, or you will be burned. The\ndisobedient child is effectually warned by the pain it suffers to be\nmore obedient in future. But all such confirmations are mere external\naids to parental authority. They do not explain the feeling of reverence\nwith which even a young child, when rightly brought up, is wont to look\nup to his father's face. To explain this sentiment of reverence, I must\nask you to consider the following train of reasoning. It has been\nremarked already that the parent should be to the child the visible\nembodiment of a higher law. This higher law shining from the father's\ncountenance, making its sublime presence felt in the mother's eye,\nwakens an answering vibration in the child's heart. The child feels the\nhigher presence and bows to it, though it could not, if it tried,\nanalyze or explain what it feels. We should never forget that children\npossess the capacity for moral development from the outset. It is indeed\nthe fashion with some modern writers to speak of the child as if it were\nat first a mere animal, and as if reflection and morality were\nmechanically superadded later on. But the whole future man is already\nhidden, not yet declared, but latent all the same in the child's heart.\nThe germs of humanity in its totality exist in the young being. Else how\ncould it ever unfold into full-grown morality? It will perhaps serve to\nmake my meaning clearer if I call attention to analogous facts relating\nto the intellectual faculty. The formula of causality is a very abstract\none, which only a thoroughly trained mind can grasp. But even very young\nchildren are constantly asking questions as to the causes of things.\nWhat makes the trees grow? what makes the stars shine?--i. e., what is\nthe cause of the trees growing and the stars shining? The child is\nconstantly pushing, or rather groping, its way back from effects to\ncauses. The child's mind acts under what maybe called the causative\ninstinct long before it can apprehend the law of causation. In the same\nway young children perfectly follow the process of syllogistic\nreasoning. If a father says, on leaving the house for a walk: I can take\nwith me only a child that has been good; now, you have not been good\nto-day; the child without any difficulty draws the conclusion, Therefore\nI can not go out walking with my father to-day. The logical laws are, as\nit were, prefigured in the child's mind long before, under the chemical\naction of experience they come out in the bright colors of\nconsciousness. Or, to use another figure, they exert a pressure on the\nchild of which he himself can give no account. And in like manner the\nmoral law--the law which prescribes certain relations between self and\nothers--is, so to speak, prefigured in the child's mind, and when it is\nexpressed in commands uttered by the parent, the pressure of external\nauthority is confirmed by a pressure coming from within. We can\nillustrate the same idea from another point of view. Whenever a man of\ncommanding moral genius appears in the world and speaks to the multitude\nfrom his height, they are for the moment lifted to his level and feel\nthe afflatus of his spirit. This is so because he expresses\npotentialities of human nature which also exist in them, only not\nunfolded to the same degree as in him. It is a matter of common\nobservation that persons who under ordinary circumstances are content to\nadmire what is third rate and fourth rate are yet able to appreciate\nwhat is first rate when it is presented to them--at least to the extent\nof recognizing that it is first rate. And yet their lack of development\nshows itself in the fact that presently they again lose their hold on\nthe higher standard of excellence, and are thereafter content to put up\nwith what is inferior as if the glimpses of better things had never been\nopened to them. Is it not because, though capable of rising to the\nhigher level, they are not capable of maintaining themselves on it\nunassisted. Now, the case of the parent with respect to the child is\nanalogous. He is on a superior moral plane. The child feels that he is,\nwithout being able to understand why. It feels the afflatus of the\nhigher spirit dwelling in the parent, and out of this feeling is\ngenerated the sentiment of reverence. And there is no greater benefit\nwhich father or mother can confer on their offspring than to deepen this\nsentiment. It is by this means that they can most efficiently promote\nthe development of the child's conscience, for out of this reverence\nwill grow eventually respect for all rightly constituted authority,\nrespect and reverence for law, human and divine. The essential form and\ndefining quality of conscience is not, therefore, as Bain has it--fear\nof punishment. In my opinion such fear is abject and cowardly. The\nsentiment engendered by fear is totally different from the one we are\ncontemplating, as the following consideration will serve to show: A\nchild fears its father when he punishes it in anger; and the more\nviolent his passion, the more does the child fear him. But, no matter\nhow stern the penalty may be which he has to inflict, the child reveres\nits father in proportion as the traces of anger are banished from his\nmien and bearing, in proportion as the parent shows by his manner that\nhe acts from a sense of duty, that he has his eye fixed on the sacred\nmeasures of right and wrong, that he himself stands in awe of the\nsublime commands of which he is, for the time being, the exponent.\n\nTo recapitulate briefly the points which we have gone over: regular\nhabits can be inculcated and obedience can be taught even in infancy. By\nobedience is meant the yielding of a wayward and ignorant will to a firm\nand enlightened one. The child between three and six years of age learns\nclearly to distinguish self from others, and to deliberate between\nalternative courses of action. It is highly important to control the\nelements which enter into the concept self. The desire to choose the\ngood is promoted chiefly by the sentiment of reverence.\n\nWe are thus prepared to describe in a general way the moral outfit of\nthe child on entering school. We have, indeed, already described it. The\nmoral acquirements of the child at the age of which we speak express\nthemselves in habits. The normal child, under the influences of parental\nexample and command, has acquired such habits as that of personal\ncleanliness, of temperance in eating, of respect for the truth. Having\nlearned to use the pronouns I and thou, it also begins to understand the\ndifference between _meum_ and _tuum_. The property sense begins to be\ndeveloped. It claims its own seat at table, its own toys against the\naggression of others. It has gained in an elementary way the notion of\nrights.\n\nThis is a stock of acquirements by no means inconsiderable. The next\nstep in the progress of conscience must be taken in the school. Until\nnow the child has been aware of duties relating only or principally to\npersons whom it loves and who love it. The motive of love is now to\nbecome less prominent. A part of that reverence which the child has felt\nfor the parents whom it loves is now to be transferred to the teacher. A\npart of that respect for the rights of equals which has been impressed\nupon it in its intercourse with brothers and sisters, to whom it is\nbound by the ties of blood, is now to be transferred to its school\ncompanions, who are at first strangers to it. Thus the conscience of the\nchild will be expanded, thus it will be prepared for intercourse with\nthe world. Thus it will begin to gain that higher understanding of\nmorality, according to which authority is to be obeyed simply because it\nis rightful, and equals are to be treated as equals, even when they are\nnot and can not be regarded with affection.\n\nI have in the above used the word habits advisedly. The morality of the\nyoung child assumes the concrete form of habits; abstract principles are\nstill beyond its grasp. Habits are acquired by imitation and repetition.\nGood examples must be so persistently presented and so often copied that\nthe line of moral conduct may become the line of least resistance. The\nexample of parents and teachers is indeed specially important in this\nrespect. But after all it is not sufficient. For the temptations of\nadults differ in many ways from those of children, and on the other\nhand in the lives of older persons occasions are often wanting for\nillustrating just the peculiar virtues of childhood. On this account it\nis necessary to set before the child ideal examples of the virtues of\nchildren and of the particular temptations, against which they need to\nbe warned. Of such examples we find a large stock ready to hand in the\nliterature of fairy tales, fables, and stories. In our next lecture\ntherefore we shall begin to consider the use of fairy tales, fables, and\nstories as means of creating in children those habits which are\nessential to the safe guarding and unfolding of their moral life.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[7] So important is environment in supporting self-consciousness, that\neven adults, when suddenly transported into entirely new surroundings,\noften experience a momentary doubt as to their identity.\n\n\n\n\nPRIMARY COURSE.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE USE OF FAIRY TALES.\n\n\nThere has been and still is considerable difference of opinion among\neducators as to the value of fairy tales. I venture to think that, as in\nmany other cases, the cause of the quarrel is what logicians call an\n_undistributed middle_--in other words, that the parties to the dispute\nhave each a different kind of fairy tale in mind. This species of\nliterature can be divided broadly into two classes--one consisting of\ntales which ought to be rejected because they are really harmful, and\nchildren ought to be protected from their bad influence, the other of\ntales which have a most beautiful and elevating effect, and which we can\nnot possibly afford to leave unutilized.\n\nThe chief pedagogic value they possess is that they exercise and\ncultivate the imagination. Now, the imagination is a most powerful\nauxiliary in the development of the mind and will. The familiar anecdote\nrelated of Marie Antoinette, who is said to have asked why the people\ndid not eat cake when she was told that they were in want of bread,\nindicates a deficiency of imagination. Brought up amid the splendor of\ncourts, surrounded by luxury, she could not put herself in the place of\nthose who lack the very necessaries. Much of the selfishness of the\nworld is due not to actual hard-heartedness, but to a similar lack of\nimaginative power. It is difficult for the happy to realize the needs of\nthe miserable. Did they realize those needs, they would in many cases be\nmelted to pity and roused to help. The faculty of putting one's self in\nthe place of others is therefore of great, though indirect, service to\nthe cause of morality, and this faculty may be cultivated by means of\nfairy tales. As they follow intently the progress of the story, the\nyoung listeners are constantly called upon to place themselves in the\nsituations in which they have never been, to imagine trials, dangers,\ndifficulties, such as they have never experienced, to reproduce in\nthemselves, for instance, such feelings as that of being alone in the\nwide world, of being separated from father's and mother's love, of being\nhungry and without bread, exposed to enemies without protection, etc.\nThus their sympathy in a variety of forms is aroused.\n\nIn the next place, fairy tales stimulate the idealizing tendency. What\nwere life worth without ideals! How could hope or even religion\ngerminate in the human heart were we not able to confront the\ndisappointing present with visions which represent the fulfillment of\nour desires. \"Faith,\" says Paul, \"is the confidence of things hoped for,\nthe certainty of things not seen.\" Thus faith itself can not abide\nunless supported by a vivid idealism. It is true, the ideals of\nchildhood are childish. In the story called Das Marienkind we hear of\nthe little daughter of a poor wood-cutter who was taken up bodily into\nheaven. There she ate sweetmeats and drank cream every day and wore\ndresses made of gold, and the angels played with her. Sweetmeats and\ncream in plenty and golden dresses and dear little angels to play with\nmay represent the ideals of a young child, and these are materialistic\nenough. But I hold nevertheless that something--nay, much--has been\ngained if a child has learned to take the wishes out of its heart, as it\nwere, and to project them on the screen of fancy. As it grows up to\nmanhood, the wishes will become more spiritual, and the ideals, too,\nwill become correspondingly elevated. In speaking of fairy tales I have\nin mind chiefly the German _Maerchen_ of which the word fairy tale is but\nan inaccurate rendering. The _Maerchen_ are more than mere tales of\nhelpful fairies. They have, as is well-known, a mythological background.\nThey still bear distinct traces of ancient animism, and the myths which\ncenter about the phenomena of the storm, the battle of the sun with the\nclouds, the struggle of the fair spring god with the dark winter demons,\nare in them leading themes. But what originally was the outgrowth of\nsuperstition has now, to a great extent at least, been purified of its\ndross and converted into mere poetry. The _Maerchen_ come to us from a\ntime when the world was young. They represent the childhood of mankind,\nand it is for this reason that they never cease to appeal to children.\nThe _Maerchen_ have a subtile flavor all their own. They are pervaded by\nthe poetry of forest life, are full of the sense of mystery and awe,\nwhich is apt to overcome one on penetrating deeper and deeper into the\nwoods, away from human habitations. The _Maerchen_ deal with the\nunderground life of nature, which weaves in caverns and in the heart of\nmountains, where gnomes and dwarfs are at work gathering hidden\ntreasures. And with this underground life children have a marvelous\nsympathy. The _Maerchen_ present glowing pictures of sheltered firesides,\nwhere man finds rest and security from howling winds and nipping cold.\nBut perhaps their chief attraction is due to their representing the\nchild as living in brotherly fellowship with nature and all creatures.\nTrees, flowers, animals wild and tame, even the stars, are represented\nas the comrades of children. That animals are only human beings in\ndisguise is an axiom in the fairy tales. Animals are humanized--i. e.,\nthe kinship between animal and human life is still strongly felt, and\nthis reminds us of those early animistic interpretations of nature,\nwhich subsequently led to doctrines of metempsychosis. Plants, too, are\noften represented as incarnations of human spirits. Thus the twelve\nlilies are inhabited by the twelve brothers, and in the story of\nSnow-white and Rose-red the life of the two maidens appears to be bound\nup with the life of the white and red rosebush. The kinship of all life\nwhatsoever is still realized. This being so, it is not surprising that\nmen should understand the language of animals, and that these should\ninterfere to protect the heroes and heroines of the _Maerchen_ from\nthreatened dangers. In the story of the faithful servant John, the\nthree ravens flying above the ship reveal the secret of the red horse,\nthe sulphurous shirt, and the three drops of blood, and John, who\nunderstands their communications, is thereby enabled to save his\nmaster's life. What, again, can be more beautiful than the way in which\nthe tree and the two white doves co-operate to secure the happiness of\nthe injured Cinderella! The tree rains down the golden dresses with\nwhich she appears at the ball, and the doves continue to warn the prince\nas he rides by that he has chosen the wrong bride until Cinderella\nherself passes, when they light on her shoulders, one on her right and\nthe other on her left, making, perhaps, the loveliest picture to be\nfound in all fairy lore. The child still lives in unbroken communion\nwith the whole of nature; the harmony between its own life and the\nenveloping life has not yet been disturbed, and it is this harmony of\nthe human with the natural world that reflects itself in the atmosphere\nof the _Maerchen_, and makes them so admirably suited to satisfy the\nheart of childhood.\n\nBut how shall we handle these _Maerchen_ and what method shall we employ\nin putting them to account for our special purpose? I have a few\nthoughts on this subject, which I shall venture to submit in the form of\ncounsels.\n\nMy _first counsel_ is: Tell the story; do not give it to the child to\nread. There is an obvious practical reason for this. Children are able\nto benefit by hearing fairy tales before they can read. But that is not\nthe only reason. It is the childhood of the race, as we have seen, that\nspeaks in the fairy story to the child of to-day. It is the voice of an\nancient, far-off past that echoes from the lips of the story-teller. The\nwords \"once upon a time\" open up a vague retrospect into the past, and\nthe child gets its first indistinct notions of history in this way. The\nstories embody the tradition of the childhood of mankind. They have on\nthis account an authority all their own, not indeed that of literal\ntruth, but one derived from their being types of certain feelings and\nlongings which belong to childhood as such. The child as it listens to\nthe _Maerchen_, looks up with wide-opened eyes to the face of the person\nwho tells the story, and thrills responsive as the touch of the earlier\nlife of the race thus falls upon its own. Such an effect, of course, can\nnot be produced by cold type. Tradition is a living thing, and should\nuse the living voice for its vehicle.\n\nMy _second counsel_ is also of a practical nature, and I make bold to\nsay quite essential to the successful use of the stories. Do not take\nthe moral plum out of the fairy-tale pudding, but let the child enjoy it\nas a whole. Do not make the story taper toward a single point, the moral\npoint. You will squeeze all the juice out of it if you try. Do not\nsubordinate the purely fanciful and naturalistic elements of the story,\nsuch as the love of mystery, the passion for roving, the sense of\nfellowship with the animal world, in order to fix attention solely on\nthe moral element. On the contrary, you will gain the best moral effect\nby proceeding in exactly the opposite way. Treat the moral element as\nan incident; emphasize, it indeed, but incidentally. Pluck it as a\nwayside flower. How often does it happen that, having set out on a\njourney with a distinct object in mind, something occurs on the way\nwhich we had not foreseen, but which in the end leaves the deepest\nimpression on the mind. The object which we had in view is long\nforgotten, but the incident which happened by the way is remembered for\nyears after. So the moral result of the _Maerchen_ will not be less sure\nbecause gained incidentally. An illustration will make plain what I\nmean. In the story of the Frog King we are told that there was once a\nyoung princess who was so beautiful that even the Sun, which sees a\ngreat many things, had never seen anything so beautiful as she was. A\ngolden ball was her favorite plaything. One day, as she sat by a well\nunder an old linden tree, she tossed the ball into the air and it fell\ninto the well. She was very unhappy, and cried bitterly. Presently a\nfrog put his ugly head out of the water, and offered to dive for the\nball, on condition, however, that she would promise to take him for her\nplaymate, to let him eat off her golden plate and drink out of her\ngolden cup and sleep in her little snow-white bed. The princess promised\neverything. But no sooner had the frog brought her the ball than she\nscampered away, heedless of his cries. The next day as the royal family\nsat at dinner a knock was heard at the door. The princess opened and\nbeheld the ugly toad claiming admittance. She screamed with fright and\nhastily shut the door in his face. But when the king, her father, had\nquestioned her, he said, \"What you have promised, you must keep\"; and\nshe obeyed her father, though it was sorely against her inclination to\ndo so. That was right, children, was it not? One must always obey, even\nif one does not like what one is told to do. So the toad was brought in\nand lifted to the table, and he ate off the little golden plate and\ndrank out of the golden cup. And when he had had enough, he said, \"I am\ntired now, put me into your little snow-white bed.\" And again when she\nrefused her father said: \"What you have promised you must keep. Ugly\nthough he is, he helped you when you were in distress, and you must not\ndespise him now.\" And the upshot of the story is that the ugly toad,\nhaving been thrown against the wall, was changed into a beautiful\nprince, and of course some time after the prince and the princess were\nmarried.\n\nThe naturalistic element of the story is the changing of the prince into\na toad and back again from a toad into a prince. Children are very fond\nof disguises. It is one of their greatest pleasures to imagine things to\nbe other than they are. And one of the chief attractions of such stories\nas the one we have related is that they cater to the fondness of the\nlittle folks for this sort of masquerading. The moral elements of the\nstory are obvious. They should be touched on in such a manner as not to\ndivert the interest from the main story.\n\nMy _third counsel_ is to eliminate from the stories whatever is merely\nsuperstitious, merely a relic of ancient animism, and of course whatever\nis objectionable on moral grounds. For instance, such a story as that of\nthe idle spinner, the purport of which seems to be that there is a\nspecial providence watching over lazy people. Likewise all those stories\nwhich turn upon the success of trickery and cunning. A special question\narising under this head, and one which has been the subject of much\nvexed discussion, is in how far we should acquaint children with the\nexistence of evil in the world, and to what extent we can use stories in\nwhich evil beings and evil motives are introduced. My own view is that\nwe should speak in the child's hearing only of those lesser forms of\nevil, physical or moral, with which it is already acquainted, but\nexclude all those forms of evil which lie beyond its present experience.\nOn this ground I should reject the whole brood of step-mother stories,\nor rather, as this might make too wide a swath, I should take the\nliberty of altering stories in which the typical bad step-mother occurs,\nbut which are otherwise valuable. There is no reason why children should\nbe taught to look on step-mothers in general as evilly disposed persons.\nThe same applies to stories in which unnatural fathers are mentioned. I\nshould also rule out such stories as that of The Wolf and The Seven\nLittle Goats. The mother goat, on leaving the house, warns her little\nones against the wolf, and gives them two signs by which they can\ndetect him--his hoarse voice and black paws. The wolf knocks and finds\nhimself discovered. He thereupon swallows chalk to improve his voice and\ncompels the miller to whiten his paws. Then he knocks again, is\nadmitted, leaps into the room, and devours the little goats one by one.\nThe story, as used in the nursery, has a transparent purpose. It is\nintended to warn little children who are left at home alone against\nadmitting strangers. The wolf represents evil beings in general--tramps,\nburglars, people who come to kidnap children, etc. Now I, for one,\nshould not wish to implant this fear of strangers into the minds of the\nyoung. Fear is demoralizing. Children should look with confidence and\ntrust upon all men. They need not be taught to fear robbers and\nburglars. Even the sight of wild animals need not awaken dread. Children\nnaturally admire the beauty of the tiger's skin, and the lion in their\neyes is a noble creature, of whose ferocity they have no conception. It\nis time enough for them later on to familiarize themselves with the fact\nthat evil of a sinister sort exists within human society and outside of\nit. And it will be safe for them to face this fact then only, when they\ncan couple with it the conviction that the forces of right and order in\nthe world are strong enough to grapple with the sinister powers and hold\nthem in subjection.\n\nAnd now let us review a number of the _Maerchen_ against which none of\nthese objections lie, which are delicious food for children's minds, and\nconsider the place they occupy in a scheme of moral training. It has\nbeen already stated that each period of human life has a set of duties\npeculiar to itself. The principal duties of childhood are: Obedience to\nparents, love and kindness toward brothers and sisters, a proper regard\nfor the feelings of servants, and kindness toward animals. We can\nclassify the fairy tales which we can use under these various heads. Let\nus begin with the topic last mentioned.\n\n\n_Tales illustrating Kindness toward Animals._\n\nThe House in the Woods.--The daughter of a poor wood-cutter is lost in\nthe woods, and comes at night to a lonely house. An old man is sitting\nwithin. Three animals--a cow, a cock, and a chicken--lie on the hearth.\nThe child is made welcome, and is asked to prepare supper. She cooks for\nthe old man and herself, but forgets the animals. The second daughter\nlikewise goes astray in the woods, comes to the same house, and acts in\nthe same way. The third daughter, a sweet, loving child, before sitting\ndown to her own meal, brings in hay for the cow and barley for the cock\nand chicken, and by this act of kindness to animals breaks the spell\nwhich had been cast upon the house. The old man is immediately\ntransformed into a prince, etc.\n\nThe Story of the Dog Sultan.--Sultan is old, and about to be shot by his\nmaster. The wolf, seeing his cousin the dog in such distress, promises\nto help him. He arranges that on the morrow he will seize a sheep\nbelonging to Sultan's master. The dog is to run after him, and he, the\nwolf, will drop the sheep and Sultan shall get the credit of the rescue.\nEverything passes off as prearranged, and Sultan's life is spared by his\ngrateful owner. Some time after the wolf comes prowling around the\nhouse, and, reminding his friend that one good turn deserves another,\ndeclares that he has now come for mutton in good earnest. But the dog\nreplies that nothing can tempt him to betray the interests of his\nmaster. The wolf persists, but Sultan gives the alarm and the thief\nreceives his due in the shape of a sound beating.\n\nThe point of special interest in the beautiful story of Snow-white and\nRose-red above referred to is the incident of the bear. One cold\nwinter's night some one knocks at the door. Snow-white and Rose-red go\nto open, when a huge black bear appears at the entrance and begs for\nshelter. He is almost frozen with the cold, he says, and would like to\nwarm himself a bit. The two little girls are at first frightened, but,\nencouraged by their mother, they take heart and invite the bear into the\nkitchen. Soon a cordial friendship springs up between Bruin and the\nchildren. They brush the snow from his fur, tease, and caress him by\nturns. After this the bear returns every night, and finally turns out to\nbe a beautiful prince.\n\nThe Story of the Queen Bee tells about three brothers who wander through\nthe world in search of adventures. One day they come to an ant-hill.\nThe two older brothers are about to trample upon the ants \"just for the\nfun of it.\" But the youngest pleads with them, saying: \"Let them live;\ntheir life is as dear to them as ours is to us.\" Next they come to a\npond in which many ducks are swimming about. The two older brothers are\ndetermined to shoot the ducks \"just for the fun of it.\" The youngest\nagain pleads as before, \"Let them live,\" etc. Finally, he saves a\nbee-hive from destruction in the same manner. Thus they journey on until\nthey come to an enchanted castle. To break the spell, it is necessary to\nfind and gather up a thousand pearls which had fallen on the\nmoss-covered ground in a certain wood. Five thousand ants come to help\nthe youngest to find the pearls. The second task imposed is to find a\ngolden key which had been thrown into a pond near the castle. The\ngrateful ducks bring up the key from the bottom. The third task is the\nmost difficult. In one of the interior chambers of the castle there are\nthree marble images--three princesses, namely, who had been turned into\nstone. Before the spell took effect they had partaken, respectively, of\nsugar, sirup, and honey. To restore them to life it is necessary to\ndiscover which one had eaten the honey. The Queen Bee comes in with all\nher swarm and lights on the lips of the youngest and so solves the\nproblem. The enchantment is immediately dissolved. All these stories\nillustrate kindness to animals.\n\nAmong stories which illustrate the _respect due to the feelings of\nservants_ may be mentioned the tale of Faithful John, who understood the\nlanguage of the ravens and saved his master from the dangers of the red\nhorse, etc., a story which in addition impresses the lesson that we\nshould confide in persons who have been found trustworthy, even if we do\nnot understand their motives. In the popular tale of Cinderella the\npoints especially to be noted are: The pious devotion of Cinderella to\nher mother's memory, and the fact that the poor kitchen drudge,\nunderneath the grime and ashes which disfigure her, possesses qualities\nwhich raise her far above the proud daughters of the house. The lesson\ntaught by this story that we should distinguish intrinsic worth from the\naccidents of rank and condition, is one which can not be impressed too\nearly or too deeply.\n\nUnder the heading of _brotherly and sisterly love_ belongs the lovely\ntale of Snow-white. The little dwarfs are to all intents and purposes\nher brothers. They receive and treat her as a sister, and she returns\ntheir affection in kind.\n\nThe story of the Twelve Brothers, whom their sister redeems by seven\nyears of silence at the peril of her own life, is another instance of\ntenderest sisterly devotion combined with self-control. This story,\nhowever, needs to be slightly altered. In place of the cruel father (we\nmust not mention cruel fathers) who has got ready twelve coffins for his\nsons, in order that all the wealth of his kingdom may descend to his\ndaughter, let us substitute the steward of the palace, who hopes by\nslaying the sons and winning the hand of the daughter, to become king\nhimself.\n\nFinally the story of Red Riding Hood illustrates the cardinal virtue of\nchildhood--_obedience to parents_. Children must not loiter on the way\nwhen they are sent on errands. And Riding Hood loiters, and hence all\nthe mischief which follows. She is sent to bring wine and cake to her\ngrandmother. The example of such attentions as this serves to quicken in\nchildren the sentiment of reverence for the aged. Children learn\nreverence toward their parents in part by the reverence which these\ndisplay toward the grandparents. Another point is that Red Riding Hood,\nto quiet her conscience, when she strays from the straight path deceives\nherself as to her motives. She says, \"I will also gather a bunch of wild\nflowers to please grandmother.\" But her real purpose is to enjoy the\nfreedom of the woods, and the proof is that presently she forgets all\nabout grandmother. There is one objection that has sometimes been urged\nagainst this story, viz., the part which the wolf plays in it. But the\nwolf is not really treated as a hostile or fearful being. He meets Red\nRiding Hood on the way, and they chat confidentially together. He\nappears rather in the light of a trickster. But, it is objected, that he\ndevours the grandmother and, later on, Red Riding Hood herself. Very\ntrue; but the curious fact is that, when his belly is cut open, the\ngrandmother and Red Riding Hood come out intact. They have evidently not\nbeen injured. Children have very defective notions of the human body,\nwith the exception of such external parts as hands, feet, and face. In\nan examination recently conducted by Prof. G. Stanley Hall in regard to\nthe contents of childrens' minds at the time they enter school, it was\nfound that ninety per cent of those questioned had no idea where the\nheart is located, eighty-one per cent did not know anything about the\nlungs, ninety per cent could not tell where their ribs are situated,\netc. Of the internal organs children have no idea. Hence when the story\nsays that the grandmother is swallowed by the wolf, the impression\ncreated is that she has been forced down into a sort of dark hole, and\nthat her situation, while rather uncomfortable, no doubt, is not\notherwise distressing. The ideas of torn and mangled flesh are not\nsuggested. Hence the act of devouring arouses no feeling of horror, and\nthe story of Red Riding Hood, that prime favorite of all young children,\nmay be related without any apprehension as to its moral effect.\n\nThen there are other stories, such as that of the man who went abroad to\nlearn the art of shuddering--an excellent example of bravery; the story\nof the seven Suabians--a persiflage of cowardice; the story of the\n_Marienkind_ which contains a wholesome lesson against obstinacy, etc. I\nhave not, of course, attempted to cover the whole ground, but only to\nmention a few examples sufficient to show along what lines the selection\nmay be made. The ethical interests peculiar to childhood are the heads\nunder which the whole material can be classified.\n\nThe value of the fairy tales is that they stimulate the imagination;\nthat they reflect the unbroken communion of human life with the life\nuniversal, as in beasts, fishes, trees, flowers, and stars; and that\nincidentally, but all the more powerfully on that account, they quicken\nthe moral sentiments.\n\nLet us avail ourselves freely of the treasures which are thus placed at\nour disposal. Let us welcome _das Maerchen_ into our primary course of\nmoral training, that with its gentle bands, woven of \"morning mist and\nmorning glory,\" it may help to lead our children into the bright realms\nof the ideal.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE USE OF FABLES.\n\n\nThe collection of fables which figures under the name of AEsop has to a\nvery remarkable degree maintained its popularity among children, and\nmany of its typical characters have been adopted into current\nliterature, such as the Dog in the Manger, the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing,\nKing Log, and King Stork, and others. Recent researches have brought to\nlight the highly interesting fact that these fables are of Asiatic\norigin. A collection of Indian and, it is believed, Buddhist fables and\nstories traveled at an early period into Persia, where it became known\nas the Pancha-Tantra. The Pancha-Tantra was translated into Arabic, and\nbecame the source of the voluminous Kalilah-wa-Dimnah literature. The\nArabic tales in turn migrated into Europe at the time of the Crusades\nand were rendered into Greek, Hebrew, and Latin. In this form they\nbecame accessible to the nations of Europe, were extensively circulated,\nand a collection of them was wrongly, but very naturally, ascribed to a\nfamous story-teller of the ancient Greeks--i. e., to AEsop. The arguments\non which this deduction is based may be found in Rhys Davids's\nintroduction to his English translation of the Jataka Tales.[8] This\nauthor speaks of AEsop's fables as a first moral lesson-book for our\nchildren in the West. We shall have to consider in how far this\ndescription is correct--that is to say, in how far we can use the fables\nfor moral purposes. The point to be kept in mind is their Asiatic\norigin, as this will at once help us to separate the fables which we can\nuse from those which must be rejected. A discrimination of this sort is\nabsolutely necessary. I am of the opinion that it is a serious mistake\nto place the whole collection as it stands in the hands of children.\n\nTo decide this question we must study the _milieu_ in which the fables\narose, the spirit which they breathe, the conditions which they reflect.\nThe conditions they reflect are those of an Oriental despotism. They\ndepict a state of society in which the people are cruelly oppressed by\ntyrannical rulers, and the weak are helpless in the hands of the strong.\nThe spirit which they breathe is, on the whole, one of patient and\nrather hopeless submission. The effect upon the reader as soon as he has\ncaught this clew, this _Leitmotiv_, which occurs in a hundred\nvariations, is very saddening. I must substantiate this cardinal point\nby a somewhat detailed analysis. Let us take first the fable of the Kite\nand the Pigeons. A kite had been sailing in the air for many days near a\npigeon-house with the intention of seizing the pigeons; at last he had\nrecourse to stratagem. He expressed his deep concern at their unjust and\nunreasonable suspicions of himself, as if he intended to do them an\ninjury. He declared that, on the contrary, he had nothing more at heart\nthan the defense of their ancient rights and liberties, and ended by\nproposing that they should accept him as their protector, their king.\nThe poor, simple pigeons consented. The kite took the coronation oath in\na very solemn manner. But much time had not elapsed before the good kite\ndeclared it to be a part of the king's prerogative to devour a pigeon\nnow and then, and the various members of his family adhered to the same\nview of royal privilege. The miserable pigeons exclaimed: \"Ah, we\ndeserve no better. Why did we let him in!\"\n\nThe fable of the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing conveys essentially the same\nidea. The fable of the Lion and the Deer illustrates the exorbitant\nexactions practiced by despots. A fat deer was divided into four parts.\nHis majesty the lion proposed that they be suitably apportioned. The\nfirst part he claimed for himself on account of his true hereditary\ndescent from the royal family of Lion; the second he considered properly\nhis own because he had headed the hunt; the third he took in virtue of\nhis prerogative; and finally he assumed a menacing attitude, and dared\nany one to dispute his right to the fourth part also.\n\nIn the fable of the Sick Lion and the Fox, the fox says: \"I see the\nfootprints of beasts who have gone into the cave, but of none that have\ncome out.\" The fable of the Cat and the Mice expresses the same thought,\nnamely, that it is necessary to be ever on one's guard against the\nmighty oppressors even when their power seems for the time to have\ndeserted them. The cat pretends to be dead, hoping by this means to\nentice the mice within her reach. A cunning old mouse peeps over the\nedge of the shelf, and says: \"Aha, my good friend, are you there? I\nwould not trust myself with you though your skin were stuffed with\nstraw.\"\n\nThe fable of King Log and King Stork shows what a poor choice the people\nhave in the matter of their kings. First they have a fool for their\nking, a mere log, and they are discontented. Then Stork ascends the\nthrone, and he devours them. It would have been better if they had put\nup with the fool. The injustice of despotic rulers is exemplified in the\nfable of the Kite and the Wolf. The kite and the wolf are seated in\njudgment. The dog comes before them to sue the sheep for debt. Kite and\nwolf, without waiting for the evidence, give sentence for the plaintiff,\nwho immediately tears the poor sheep into pieces and divides the spoil\nwith the judges. The sort of thanks which the people get when they are\nfoolish enough to come to the assistance of their masters, is\nillustrated by the conduct of the wolf toward the crane. The wolf\nhappened to have a bone sticking in his throat, and, howling with pain,\npromised a reward to any one who should relieve him. At last the crane\nventured his long neck into the wolf's throat and plucked out the bone.\nBut when he asked for his reward, the wolf glared savagely upon him, and\nsaid: \"Is it not enough that I refrained from biting off your head?\" How\ndangerous it is to come at all into close contact with the mighty, is\nshown in the fable of the Earthen and the Brazen Pot. The brazen pot\noffers to protect the earthen one as they float down stream. \"Oh,\"\nreplies the latter, \"keep as far off as ever you can, if you please;\nfor, whether the stream dashes you against me or me against you, I am\nsure to be the sufferer.\"\n\nThe fables which we have considered have for their theme the character\nof the strong as exhibited in their dealings with the weak. A second\ngroup is intended to recommend a certain policy to be pursued by the\nweak in self-protection. This policy consists either in pacifying the\nstrong by giving up to them voluntarily what they want, or in flight,\nor, if that be impossible, in uncomplaining submission. The first\nexpedient is recommended in the fable of the Beaver. A beaver who was\nbeing hard pressed by a hunter and knew not how to escape, suddenly,\nwith a great effort, bit off the part which the hunter desired, and,\nthrowing it toward him, by this means escaped with his life. The\nexpedient of flight is recommended in the fable of Reynard and the Cat.\nReynard and the cat one day were talking politics in the forest. The fox\nboasted that though things might turn out never so badly, he had still a\nthousand tricks to play before they should catch him. The cat said: \"I\nhave but one trick, and if that does not succeed I am undone.\" Presently\na pack of hounds came upon them full cry. The cat ran up a tree and hid\nherself among the top branches. The fox, who had not been able to get\nout of sight, was overtaken despite his thousand tricks and torn to\npieces by the hounds. The fable of the Oak and the Reed teaches the\npolicy of utter, uncomplaining submission. The oak refuses to bend, and\nis broken. The supple reed yields to the blast, and is safe. Is it not a\nlittle astonishing that this fable should so often be related to\nchildren as if it contained a moral which they ought to take to heart?\nTo make it apply at all, it is usually twisted from its proper\nsignification and explained as meaning that one should not be\nfool-hardy, not attempt to struggle against overwhelming odds. But this\nis not the true interpretation. The oak is by nature strong and firm,\nwhile it is the nature of the reed to bend to every wind. The fable\nsprings out of the experience of a people who have found resistance\nagainst oppression useless. And this sort of teaching we can not, of\ncourse, wish to give to our children. I should certainly prefer that a\nchild of mine should take the oak, and not the reed, for his pattern.\nThe same spirit is again inculcated in the fable of the Wanton Calf. The\nwanton calf sneers at the poor ox who all day long bears the heavy yoke\npatiently upon his neck. But in the evening it turns out that the ox is\nunyoked, while the calf is butchered. The choice seems to lie between\nsubserviency and destruction. The fable of the Old Woman and her Maids\nsuggests the same conclusion, with the warning added that it is useless\nto rise against the agents of tyranny so long as the tyrants themselves\ncan not be overthrown. The cock in the fable represents the agents of\noppression. The killing of the cock serves only to bring the mistress\nherself on the scene, and the lot of the servants becomes in consequence\nvery much harder than it had been before.\n\nWe have now considered two groups of fables: those which depict the\ncharacter of the mighty, and those which treat of the proper policy of\nthe weak. The subject of the third group is, the consolations of the\nweak. These are, first, that even tyrannical masters are to a certain\nextent dependent upon their inferiors, and can be punished if they go\ntoo far; secondly, that the mighty occasionally come to grief in\nconsequence of dissensions among themselves; thirdly, that fortune is\nfickle. A lion is caught in the toils, and would perish did not a little\nmouse come to his aid by gnawing asunder the knots and fastenings. The\nbear robs the bees of their honey, but is punished and rendered almost\ndesperate by their stings. An eagle carries off the cub of a fox; but\nthe fox, snatching a fire-brand, threatens to set the eagle's nest on\nfire, and thus forces him to restore her young one. This is evidently a\nfable of insurrection. The fable of the Viper and the File shows that it\nis not safe to attack the wrong person--in other words, that tyrants\nsometimes come to grief by singling out for persecution some one who is\nstrong enough to resist them though they little suspect it. The fable of\nthe four bulls shows the effect of dissensions among the mighty. Four\nbulls had entered into a close alliance, and agreed to keep always near\none another. A lion fomented jealousies among them. The bulls grew\ndistrustful of one another, and at last parted company. The lion had now\nobtained his end, and seized and devoured them singly. The fickleness of\nfortune is the theme of the fable of the Horse and the Ass. The horse,\nrichly caparisoned and champing his foaming bridle, insults an ass who\nmoves along under a heavy load. Soon after the horse is wounded, and,\nbeing unfit for military service, is sold to a carrier. The ass now\ntaunts the proud animal with his fallen estate. The horse in this fable\nis the type of many an Eastern vizier, who has basked for a time in the\nsunshine of a despot's favor only to be suddenly and ignominiously\ndegraded. The ass in the fable represents the people. There remains a\nfourth group of fables, which satirize certain mean or ridiculous types\nof characters, such as are apt to appear in social conditions of the\nkind we have described. Especially do the fables make a target of the\nfolly of those who affect the manners of the aristocratic class, or who\ntry to crowd in where they are not wanted, or who boast of their high\nconnections. The frog puffs himself up so that he may seem as large as\nthe ox, until he bursts. The mouse aspires to marry the young lioness,\nand is in fact well received; but the young lady inadvertently places\nher foot on her suitor and crushes him. The jackdaw picks up feathers\nwhich have fallen from the peacocks, sticks them among his own, and\nintroduces himself into the assembly of those proud birds. They find him\nout, strip him of his plumes, and with their sharp bills punish him as\nhe deserves. A fly boasts that he frequents the most distinguished\ncompany, and that he is on familiar terms with the king, the priests,\nand the nobility. Many a time, he says, he has entered the royal\nchamber, has sat upon the altar, and has even enjoyed the privilege of\nkissing the lips of the most beautiful maids of honor. \"Yes,\" replies an\nant, \"but in what capacity are you admitted among all these great\npeople? One and all regard you as a nuisance, and the sooner they can\nget rid of you the better they are pleased.\"\n\nMost of the fables which thus far have been mentioned we can not use.\nThe discovery of their Asiatic origin sheds a new, keen light upon their\nmeaning. They breathe, in many cases, a spirit of fear, of abject\nsubserviency, of hopeless pessimism. Can we desire to inoculate the\nyoung with this spirit? The question may be asked why fables are so\npopular with boys. I should say, Because school-boy society reproduces\nin miniature to a certain extent the social conditions which are\nreflected in the fables. Among unregenerate school-boys there often\nexists a kind of despotism, not the less degrading because petty. The\nstrong are pitted against the weak--witness the fagging system in the\nEnglish schools--and their mutual antagonism produces in both the\ncharacteristic vices which we have noted above. The psychological study\nof school-boy society has been only begun, but even what lies on the\nsurface will, I think, bear out this remark. Now it has come to be one\nof the commonplaces of educational literature, that the individual of\nto-day must pass through the same stages of evolution as the human race\nas a whole. But it should not be forgotten that the advance of\ncivilization depends on two conditions: first, that the course of\nevolution be accelerated, that the time allowed to the successive stages\nbe shortened; and, secondly, that the unworthy and degrading elements\nwhich entered into the process of evolution in the past, and at the time\nwere inseparable from it, be now eliminated. Thus the fairy-tales which\ncorrespond to the myth-making epoch in human history must be purged of\nthe dross of superstition which still adheres to them, and the fables\nwhich correspond to the age of primitive despotisms must be cleansed of\nthe immoral elements they still embody.\n\nThe fables which are fit for use may be divided into two classes: those\nwhich give illustrations of evil,[9] the effect of which on the young\nshould be to arouse disapprobation, and those which present types of\nvirtue. The following is a list of some of the principal ones in each\ncategory:\n\n_An Instance of Selfishness._ The porcupine having begged for\nhospitality and having been invited into a nest of snakes,\ninconveniences the inmates and finally crowds them out. When they\nremonstrate, he says, \"Let those quit the place that do not like it.\"\n\n_Injustice._ The fable of the Kite and the Wolf, mentioned above.\n\n_Improvidence._ The fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper; also the fable\nentitled One Swallow does not make Summer, and the fable of the Man who\nKilled the Goose that laid the Golden Eggs.\n\n_Ingratitude._ The fable of the snake which bit the countryman who had\nwarmed it in his breast.\n\n_Cowardice._ The fable of the Stag and the Fawn, and of the Hares in the\nStorm.\n\n_Vanity._ The fables of the Peacock and the Crane, and of the Crow who\nlost his Cheese by listening to the flattery of the fox.\n\n_Contemptuous Self-confidence._ The Hare and the Tortoise.\n\n_The Evil Influence of Bad Company._ The Husbandman and the Stork.\n\n_Cruelty to Animals._ The Fowler and the Ringdove; the Hawk and the\nPigeons.\n\n_Greediness._ The Dog and the Shadow.\n\n_Lying._ The fable of the boy who cried \"Wolf!\"\n\n_Bragging._ The fable of the Ass in the Lion's Skin.\n\n_Deceit._ The fable of the Fox without a Tail.\n\n_Disingenuousness._ The fable of the Sour Grapes.\n\n_A Discontented Spirit._ The fable of the Peacock's Complaint.\n\n_Equal Graces are not given to all._ The fable of the Ass who leaped\ninto his Master's Lap.\n\n_Borrowed Plumes._ The fable of the Jackdaw and the Peacocks, mentioned\nabove.\n\n_Malice._ The fable of the Dog in the Manger, who would not eat, neither\nlet others eat.\n\n_Breaking Faith._ The fable of the Traveler and the Bear.\n\n_To Fan Animosity is even Worse than to Quarrel._ The fable of the\nTrumpeter.\n\nThe value of these fables, as has been said, consists in the reaction\nwhich they call forth in the minds of the pupils. Sometimes this\nreaction finds expression in the fable itself; sometimes the particular\nvice is merely depicted in its nakedness, and it becomes the business of\nthe teacher distinctly to evoke the feeling of disapprobation, and to\nhave it expressly stated in words. The words tend to fix the feeling.\nOften, when a child has committed some fault, it is useful to refer by\nname to the fable that fits it. As, when a boy has made room in his seat\nfor another, and the other crowds him out, the mere mention of the fable\nof the Porcupine is a telling rebuke; or the fable of the Hawk and the\nPigeons may be called to mind when a boy has been guilty of mean\nexcuses. On the same principle that angry children are sometimes taken\nbefore a mirror to show them how ugly they look. The fable is a kind of\nmirror for the vices of the young.\n\nOf the fables that illustrate virtuous conduct, I mention that of\nHercules and the Cart-driver, which teaches self-reliance. Hercules\nhelps the driver as soon as the latter has put his own shoulders to the\nwheel. Also the fable of the Lark. So long as the farmer depends on his\nneighbors, or his kinsmen, the lark is not afraid; but when he proposes\nto buckle to himself, she advises her young that it is time to seek\nanother field. The fable of the Wind and the Sun shows that kindness\nsucceeds where rough treatment would fail. The fable of the Bundle of\nSticks exemplifies the value of harmony. The fable of the Wolf, whom the\ndog tries to induce to enter civilization, expresses the sentiment that\nlean liberty is to be preferred to pampered servitude. The fable of the\nOld Hound teaches regard for old servants. Finally, the fable of the\nHorse and the Loaded Ass, and of the Dove and the Ant, show that\nkindness pays on selfish principles. The horse refuses to share the\nass's burden; the ass falls dead under his load; in consequence, the\nhorse has to bear the whole of it. On the other hand the dove rescues\nthe ant from drowning, and the ant in turn saves the dove from the\nfowler's net.\n\nThe last remark throws light on the point of view from which the fables\ncontemplate good and evil. It is to be noted that a really moral spirit\nis wanting in them; the moral motives are not appealed to. The appeal\nthroughout is to the bare motive of self-interest. Do not lie, because\nyou will be found out, and will be left in the lurch when you depend for\nhelp on the confidence of others. Do not indulge in vanity, because you\nwill make yourself ridiculous. Do not try to appear like a lion when you\ncan not support the character, because people will find out that you are\nonly an ass. Do not act ungratefully, because you will be thrust out of\ndoors. Even when good conduct is inculcated, it is on the ground that it\npays. Be self-reliant, because if you help yourself others will help\nyou. Be kind, because by gentle means you can gain your purpose better\nthan by harshness. Agree with your neighbors, because you can then, like\nthe bundle of sticks, resist aggression from without. That lying is\nwrong on principle; that greediness is shameful, whether you lose your\ncheese or not; that kindness is blessed, even when it does not bring a\nmaterial reward; that it is lovely for neighbors to dwell together in\npeace, is nowhere indicated. The beauty and the holiness of right\nconduct lie utterly beyond the horizon of the fable. Nevertheless, as we\nhave seen when speaking of the efficient motives of conduct,\nself-interest as a motive should not be underrated, but should be\nallowed the influence which belongs to it as an auxiliary to the moral\nmotive. It is well, it is necessary, for children to learn that lying,\nbesides being in itself disgraceful, does also entail penalties of a\npalpable sort; that vanity and self-conceit, besides being immoral, are\nalso punished by the contempt of one's fellows; that those who are\nunkind, as the horse was to the ass, may have to bear the ass's burden.\nThe checks and curbs supplied by such considerations as these serve the\npurpose of strengthening the weak conscience of the young, and are not\nto be dispensed with, provided always they are treated not as\nsubstitutes for but as auxiliaries to the moral motives, properly\nspeaking.\n\nAs to the place in the primary course which I have assigned to the\nfables, I have the following remark to offer: In speaking of fairy\ntales, it was stated that the moral element should be touched on\nincidentally, and that it should not be separated from the other, the\nnaturalistic elements. The pedagogical reason which leads me to assign\nto the fables the second place in the course, is that each fable deals\nexclusively with one moral quality, which is thus isolated and held up\nto be contemplated. In the stories which will occupy the third place a\nnumber of moral qualities are presented in combination. We have,\ntherefore, what seems to be a logical and progressive order--first,\nfairy tales in which the moral is still blended with other elements;\nsecondly, a single moral quality set off by itself; then, a combination\nof such qualities.\n\nThe peculiar value of the fables is that they are instantaneous\nphotographs, which reproduce, as it were, in a single flash of light,\nsome one aspect of human nature, and which, excluding everything else,\npermit the entire attention to be fixed on that one.\n\nAs to the method of handling them, I should say to the teacher: Relate\nthe fable; let the pupil repeat it in his own words, making sure that\nthe essential points are stated correctly. By means of questions elicit\na clean-cut expression of the point which the fable illustrates; then\nask the pupil to give out of his experience other instances illustrating\nthe same point. This is precisely the method pursued in the so-called\nprimary object lessons. The child, for instance, having been shown a red\nball, is asked to state the color of the ball, and then to name other\nobjects of the same color; or to give the shape of the ball, and then to\nname other objects having the same shape. In like manner, when the pupil\nhas heard the fable of the Fox and the Wolf, and has gathered from it\nthat compassion when expressed merely in words is useless, and that it\nmust lead to deeds to be really praiseworthy, it will be easy for him\nout of his own experience to multiply instances which illustrate the\nsame truth. The search for instances makes the point of the fable\nclearer, while the expression of the thought in precise language, on\nwhich the teacher should always insist, tends to drive it home. It will\nbe our aim in the present course of lectures to apply the methods of\nobject teaching, now generally adopted in other branches, to the\nearliest moral instruction of children--an undertaking, of course, not\nwithout difficulties.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[8] Buddhist Birth Stories; or Jataka Tales, translated by T. W. Rhys\nDavids.\n\n[9] I remarked above that fables should be excluded if the moral they\ninculcate is bad, not if they depict what is bad. In the latter case\nthey often may serve a useful purpose.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nSUPPLEMENTARY REMARKS ON FABLES.\n\n\nApart from the collection which figures under the name of AEsop, there\nare other fables, notably the so-called Jataka tales, which deserve\nattention. The Jataka tales contain deep truths, and are calculated to\nimpress lessons of great moral beauty. The tale of the Merchant of Seri,\nwho gave up all that he had in exchange for a golden dish, embodies much\nthe same idea as the parable of the Priceless Pearl, in the New\nTestament. The tale of the Measures of Rice illustrates the importance\nof a true estimate of values. The tale of the Banyan Deer, which offered\nits life to save a roe and her young, illustrates self-sacrifice of the\nnoblest sort. The Kulavaka-Jataka contains the thought that a forgiving\nspirit toward one's enemies disarms even the evil-minded. The tale of\nthe Partridge, the Monkey, and the Elephant teaches that the best seats\nbelong not to the nobles or the priests, to the rich or the learned, not\neven to the most pious, but that reverence and service and respect and\ncivility are to be paid according to age, and for the aged the best\nseat, the best water, the best rice, are to be reserved. The tale of\nNanda, or the Buried Gold, is a rebuke to that base insolence which\nvulgar natures often exhibit when they possess a temporary advantage.\nThe tale of the Sandy Road is one of the finest in the collection. It\npictures to us a caravan wandering through the desert under the\nstarlight. The guide, whose duty it was to pilot them through this sea\nof sand, has, it appears, fallen asleep at his post from excessive\nweariness, and at dawn the travelers discover that they have gone\nastray, and that far and wide no water is in sight wherewith to quench\ntheir burning thirst. At this moment, however, the leader espies a small\ntuft of grass on the face of the desert, and, reasoning that water must\nbe flowing somewhere underneath, inspires his exhausted followers to new\nexertions. A hole sixty feet deep is dug under his direction, but at\nlength they come upon hard rock, and can dig no farther. But even then\nhe does not yield to despair. Leaping down, he applies his ear to the\nrock. Surely, it is water that he hears gurgling underneath! One more\neffort, he cries, and we are saved! But of all his followers one only\nhad strength or courage enough left to obey. This one strikes a heavy\nblow, the rock is split open, and lo! the living water gushes upward in\na flood. The lesson is that of perseverance and presence of mind in\ndesperate circumstances. The tale entitled Holding to the Truth narrates\nthe sad fate of a merchant who suffered himself to be deceived by a\nmirage into the belief that water was near, and emptied the jars which\nhe carried with him in order to reach the pleasant land the sooner. The\nJataka entitled On True Divinity contains a very beautiful story about\nthree brothers, the Sun prince, the Moon prince, and the future Buddha\nor Bodisat. The king, their father, expelled the Moon prince and the\nfuture Buddha in order to secure the succession to the Sun prince alone.\nBut the Sun prince could not bear to be separated from his brothers, and\nsecretly followed them into exile. They journeyed together until they\ncame to a certain lake. This lake was inhabited by an evil spirit, to\nwhom power had been given to destroy all who entered his territory\nunless they could redeem their lives by answering the question, \"What is\ntruly divine?\" So the Sun prince was asked first, and he answered, \"The\nsun and the moon and the gods are divine.\" But that not being the\ncorrect answer, the evil spirit seized and imprisoned him in his cave.\nThen the Moon prince was asked, and he answered, \"The far-spreading sky\nis called divine.\" But he, too, was carried away to the same place to be\ndestroyed. Then the future Buddha was asked, and he answered: \"Give ear,\nthen, attentively, and hear what divine nature is;\" and he uttered the\nwords--\n\n\n     \"The pure in heart who fear to sin,\n     The good, kindly in word and deed,\n     These are the beings in the world\n     Whose nature should be called divine.\"\n\n\nAnd when the evil spirit heard these words, he bowed, and said: \"I will\ngive up to you one of your brothers.\" Then the future Buddha said, \"Give\nme the life of my brother, the Sun prince, for it is on his account\nthat we have been driven away from our home and thrust into exile.\" The\nevil spirit was overcome by this act of generosity, and said, \"Verily, O\nteacher, thou not only knowest what is divine, but hast acted divinely.\"\nAnd he gave him the life of both his brothers, the Sun prince as well as\nthe Moon prince.\n\nI could not resist the temptation of relating a few of these tales. They\nare, as every one must admit, nobly conceived, lofty in meaning, and\nmany a helpful sermon might be preached from them as texts. But, of\ncourse, not all are fit to be used in a primary course. Some of them\nare, some are not. The teacher will have no difficulty in making the\nright selection. To the former class belongs also No. 28 of the\ncollection,[10] which is excellently adapted to impress the lesson of\nkindness to animals. Long ago the Buddha came to life in the shape of a\npowerful bull. His master, a Brahman, asserted that this bull of his\ncould move a hundred loaded carts ranged in a row and bound together.\nBeing challenged to prove his assertion, he bathed the bull, gave him\nscented rice, hung a garland of flowers around his neck, and yoked him\nto the first cart. Then he raised his whip and called out, \"Gee up, you\nbrute. Drag them along, you wretch!\" The bull said to himself, \"He calls\nme wretch; I am no wretch.\" And keeping his forelegs as firm as steel,\nhe stood perfectly still. Thereupon the Brahman, his master, was\ncompelled to pay a forfeit of a thousand pieces of gold because he had\nnot made good his boast. After a while the bull said to the Brahman, who\nseemed very much dispirited: \"Brahman, I have lived a long time in your\nhouse. Have I ever broken any pots, or have I rubbed against the walls,\nor have I made the walks around the premises unclean?\" \"Never, my dear,\"\nsaid the Brahman. \"Then why did you call me wretch? But if you will\nnever call me wretch again, you shall have two thousand pieces for the\none thousand you have lost.\" The Brahman, hearing this, called his\nneighbors together, set up one hundred loaded carts as before, then\nseated himself on the pole, stroked the bull on the back, and called\nout, \"Gee up, my beauty! Drag them along, my beauty!\" And the bull, with\na mighty effort, dragged along the whole hundred carts, heavily loaded\nthough they were. The bystanders were greatly astonished, and the\nBrahman received two thousand pieces on account of the wonderful feat\nperformed by the bull.\n\nThe 30th Jataka corresponds to the fable of the Ox and the Calf in the\nAEsop collection. The 33d, like the fable of the Bundle of Sticks,\nteaches the lesson of unity, but in a form a little nearer to the\nunderstanding of children. Long ago, when Brahmadatta was reigning in\nBenares, the future Buddha came to life as a quail. At that time there\nwas a fowler who used to go to the place where the quails dwelt and\nimitate their cry; and when they had assembled, he would throw his net\nover them. But the Buddha said to the quails: \"In future, as soon as he\nhas thrown the net over us, let each thrust his head through a mesh of\nthe net, then all lift it together, carry it off to some bush, and\nescape from underneath it.\" And they did so and were saved. But one day\na quail trod unawares on the head of another, and a disgraceful quarrel\nensued. The next time the fowler threw his net over them, each of the\nquails pretended that the others were leaving him to bear the greatest\nstrain, and cried out, \"You others begin, and then I will help.\" The\nconsequence was that no one began, and the net was not raised, and the\nfowler bagged them all. The 26th Jataka enforces the truth that evil\ncommunications corrupt good manners, and contains more particularly a\nwarning against listening to the conversation of wicked people. Thus\nmuch concerning the Jataka tales.\n\nThere exists also a collection of Hindu fairy tales and fables, gathered\nfrom oral tradition by M. Frere, and published under the title of Old\nDeccan Days. A few of these are very charming, and well adapted for our\npurpose. For example, the fable of King Lion and the Sly Little Jackals.\nThe story is told with delightful _naivete_. Singh-Rajah, the lion-king,\nis very hungry. He has already devoured all the jackals of the forest,\nand only a young married couple, who are extremely fond of each other,\nremain. The little jackal-wife is terribly frightened when she hears in\ntheir immediate vicinity the roar of Singh-Rajah. But the young husband\ntries to comfort her, and to save their lives he hits on the following\nexpedient: He makes her go with him straight to the cave of the terrible\nlion. Singh-Rajah no sooner sees them than he exclaims: \"It is well you\nhave arrived at last. Come here quickly, so that I may eat you.\" The\nhusband says: \"Yes, your Majesty, we are entirely ready to do as you bid\nus, and, in fact, we should have come long ago, as in duty bound, to\nsatisfy your royal appetite, but there is another Singh-Rajah mightier\nthan you in the forest, who would not let us come.\" \"What!\" says the\nlion, \"another Singh-Rajah mightier than I! That is impossible.\" \"Oh!\nbut it is a fact,\" say the young couple in a breath; \"and he is really\nmuch more terrible than you are.\" \"Show him to me, then,\" says\nSingh-Rajah, \"and I will prove to you that what you say is false--that\nthere is no one to be compared with me in might.\" So the little jackals\nran on together ahead of the lion, until they reached a deep well. \"He\nis in there,\" they said, pointing to the well. The lion looked down\nangrily and saw his own image, the image of an angry lion glaring back\nat him. He shook his mane; the other did the same. Singh-Rajah\nthereupon, unable to contain himself, leaped down to fight his\ncompetitor, and, of course, was drowned. The fable clothes in childlike\nlanguage the moral that anger is blind, and that the objects which\nexcite our anger are often merely the outward reflections of our own\npassions. In the fable of the Brahman, the Tiger, and the Six Judges,\nwe have a lesson against ingratitude, and also against useless\ndestruction of animal life. In the fable of the Camel and the Jackal,\nthe latter does not appear in the same favorable light as above. The\njackal and the camel were good friends. One day the jackal said to his\ncompanion: \"I know of a field of sugar-cane on the other side of the\nriver, and near by there are plenty of crabs and small fishes. The crabs\nand fishes will do for me, while you can make a fine dinner off the\nsugar-cane. If there were only a way of getting across!\" The camel\noffered to swim across, taking the jackal on his back, and in this way\nthey reached the opposite bank. The jackal ate greedily, and had soon\nfinished his meal; thereupon he began to run up and down, and to\nexercise his voice, screaming lustily. The camel begged him to desist,\nbut in vain. Presently the cries of the jackal roused the villagers.\nThey came with sticks and cudgels and cruelly beat the camel, and drove\nhim out of the field before he had had time to eat more than a few\nmouthfuls. When the men were gone at last, the jackal said, \"Let us now\ngo home.\" \"Very well,\" said the camel, \"climb on my back.\" When they\nwere midway between the two banks, the camel said to the jackal: \"Why\ndid you make such a noise and spoil my dinner, bringing on those cruel\nmen, who beat me so that every bone in my body aches? Did I not beg you\nto stop?\" \"Oh,\" said the jackal, \"I meant no harm. I was only singing a\nbit. I always sing after dinner, just for amusement.\" They had by this\ntime reached the place where the water was deepest. \"Well,\" said the\ncamel, \"I also like innocent amusements. For instance, it is my custom\nto lie on my back after dinner and to stretch myself a bit.\" With that\nhe turned over, and the jackal fell into the stream. He swallowed\npailfuls of water, and it was only with the utmost difficulty that he\nsucceeded in reaching the bank. He had received a salutary lesson on the\nsubject of inconsiderate selfishness--a fault very common with children,\nwhich such a story as this may help to correct.\n\nAs to the modern fables, I fear they will yield us but a scanty harvest.\nThe fables of La Fontaine, where they depart from AEsopian originals, are\nhardly suitable for children, and those of the German poet Gellert\nimpress me, on the whole, in the same way, though a few of them may be\nadded to our stock. For instance, the fable of the Greenfinch and the\nNightingale. These two birds occupy the same cage before the window of\nDamon's house. Presently the voice of the nightingale is heard, and then\nceases. The father leads his little boy before the cage and asks him\nwhich of the two he believes to have been the sweet musician, the\nbrightly colored greenfinch or the outwardly unattractive nightingale.\nThe child immediately points to the former, and is then instructed as to\nhis error. The lesson, of course, is that fine clothes and real worth do\nnot always go together. The fable of the Blind and the Lame Man teaches\nthe advantages of co-operation. The Carriage Horse and the Cart Horse\nis a fable for the rich. Possibly the fable of the Peasant and his Son,\nwhich is directed against lies of exaggeration, may also be utilized,\nthough I realize that there are objections to it.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[10] Buddhist Birth Stories; or Jataka Tales.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nSTORIES FROM THE BIBLE.\n\n\n_Introduction._--It will have been noticed that in choosing our\nillustrative material we have confined ourselves to what may be called\nclassical literature. The German _Maerchen_ has lived in the traditions\nof the German people for centuries, and is as fresh to-day as Snow-white\nherself when she woke from her trance. The fables, as has been shown,\nhave been adopted into the language and literature of Persia, of Arabia,\nof the nations of Europe, and are still found in the hands of our own\nchildren. Let us continue to pursue the same method of selection.\nInstead of relying on juvenile literature just produced, or attempting\nto write moralizing stories specially adapted for the purpose in hand,\nlet us continue, without excluding invention altogether, to rely mainly\non that which has stood the test of time. In the third part of our\nprimary course we shall use selected stories from the classical\nliterature of the Hebrews, and later on from that of Greece,\nparticularly the Odyssey and the Iliad. The stories to which I refer\npossess a perennial vitality, an indestructible charm. I am, I trust, no\nblind worshiper of antiquity. The mere fact that a thing has existed for\na thousand or two thousand years is not always proof that it is worth\npreserving. But the fact that after having been repeated for two\nthousand years a story still possesses a perfectly fresh attraction for\nthe child of to-day, does indeed prove that there is in it something of\nimperishable worth. How is this unique charm of the classical literature\nto be explained? What quality exists in Homer, in the Bible, enabling\nthem, despite the changes of taste and fashion, to hold their own? The\nnovels of the last century are already antiquated; few care to read\nthem. The poetry of the middle ages is enjoyed only by those who\ncultivate a special taste for it. Historical and scientific works hardly\nhave time to leave an impression before new books appear to crowd them\nout. But a few great masterpieces have survived, and the truth and\nbeauty of these the lapse of ages, it seems, has left unaltered. Mr.\nJebb remarks[11] that Homer aims at the lucid expression of primary\nmotives, and refrains from multiplying individual traits which might\ninterfere with their effect, and that this typical quality in Homer's\nportraiture has been one secret of its universal impressiveness. The\nHomeric outlines are in each case brilliantly distinct, while they leave\nto the reader a certain liberty of private conception, and he can fill\nthem in so as to satisfy his own ideal. We may add that this is just as\ntrue of the Bible as of Homer. The biblical narrative, too, depicts a\nfew essential traits of human nature, and refrains from multiplying\nminor traits which might interfere with the main effect. The Bible, too,\ndraws its figures in outline, and leaves every age free to fill them in\nso as to satisfy its own ideal. Thus the biblical story, as conceived in\nthe mind of Milton, reflects the Puritan ideal; the same story, narrated\nin a modern pulpit or Sunday-school, will inevitably reflect, to a\ngreater or less degree, the modern humanitarian ideal, and this liberty\nof interpretation is one cause of the vitality of the Bible. But it may\nbe asked further, How did Homer, how did the biblical writers, succeed\nin producing such universal types, in drawing their figures so correctly\nthat, however the colors may thenceforth be varied, the outlines remain\nforever true? He who should attempt at the present day to give\nexpression to the most universal traits of human nature, freed from the\ncomplex web of conditions, disengaged from the thousand-fold minor\ntraits which modify the universal in particular instances, would find it\ndifficult to avoid one or the other of two fatal errors. If he keeps his\neyes fixed on the universal, he is in danger of producing a set of\nbloodless abstractions, pale shadows of reality, which will not live for\na day, much less for a thousand years. If, on the other hand, he tries\nto keep close to reality he will probably produce more or less accurate\ncopies of the types that surround him, but the danger will always be\nthat the universal will be lost amid the particulars. By what quality in\nthemselves or fortunate constellation of circumstances did Homer and the\nbiblical writers succeed in avoiding both these errors, in creating\ntypes of the utmost universality and yet imparting to them the breath of\nlife, the gait and accent of distinctive individuality? I imagine that\nthey succeeded because they lived at a time when life was much less\ncomplex than it is at present, when the conversation, the manners, the\nthoughts, the motives of men were simple. They were enabled to\nindividualize the universal because the most universal, the simplest\nmotives, still formed the mainspring in the conduct of individuals. It\nwas not necessary for them to enter into the barren region of\nabstraction and generalization to discover the universal. They pictured\nwhat they actually saw. The universal and the individual were still\nblended in that early dawn of human history.\n\nWe have thus far spoken of Homer and the Bible jointly. But let us now\ngive our particular attention to the biblical narrative. The narrative\nof the Bible is fairly saturated with the moral spirit; the moral issues\nare everywhere in the forefront. Duty, guilt and its punishment, the\nconflict of conscience with inclination, are the leading themes. The\nHebrew people seem to have been endowed with what may be called \"a moral\ngenius,\" and especially did they emphasize the filial and fraternal\nduties to an extent hardly equaled elsewhere. Now it is precisely these\nduties that must be impressed on young children, and hence the biblical\nstories present us with the very material we require. They can not, in\nthis respect, be replaced; there is no other literature in the world\nthat offers what is equal to them in value for the particular object we\nhave now in view. Before proceeding, however, to discuss the stories in\ndetail, let me remind you that in studying them a larger tax is made on\nthe attention of children, and a higher development of the moral\njudgment is presupposed, than in the previous parts of our course; for\nin them a succession of acts and their consequences are presented to the\nscholar, on each of which his judgment is to be exercised. Those who\nteach the biblical stories merely because it has been customary to\nregard the Bible as the text-book of morals and religion, without,\nhowever, being clear as to the place which belongs to it in a scheme of\nmoral education, will always, I doubt not, achieve a certain result. The\nstories will never entirely fail of their beneficial effect, but I can\nnot help thinking that this effect will be greatly heightened if their\nprecise pedagogic value is distinctly apprehended, and if the\npreparatory steps have been taken in due course. It seems to me that the\nmoral judgment should first be exercised on a single moral quality as\nexhibited in a single act before it is applied to a whole series of\nacts; and hence that the fable should precede the story.\n\nIn making our selection from the rich material before us we need only\nkeep in mind the principle already enunciated in the introductory\nlectures--that the moral teaching at any period should relate to the\nduties of that period.\n\n\n_Adam and Eve in Paradise._\n\nThis is a wonderful story for children. It deserves to be placed at the\nhead of all the others, for it inculcates the cardinal virtue of\nchildhood--obedience. It is also a typical story of the beginning, the\nprogress, and the culmination of temptation. Will you permit me to\nrelate the story as I should tell it to little children? I shall\nendeavor to keep true to the outlines, and if I depart from the received\nversion in other respects, may I not plead that liberty of\ninterpretation to which I have referred above.\n\nOnce upon a time there were two children, Adam and Eve. Adam was a fine\nand noble-looking lad. He was slender and well built, and fleet of foot\nas a young deer. Eve was as beautiful as the dawn, with long golden\ntresses, and blue eyes, and cheeks like the rose. They lived in the\nloveliest garden that you have ever heard of. There were tall trees in\nit, and open meadows where the grass was as smooth as on a lawn, and\nclear, murmuring brooks ran through the woods. And there were dense\nthickets filled with the perfume of flowers, and the flowers grew in\nsuch profusion, and there were so many different kinds, each more\nbeautiful than the rest, that it was a perfect feast for the eyes to\nlook at them. It was so warm that the children never needed to go\nin-doors, but at night they would just lie down at the foot of some\ngreat tree and look at the stars twinkling through the branches until\nthey fell asleep. And when it rained they would find shelter in some\nbeautiful cavern, spreading leaves and moss upon the ground for a bed.\nThe garden where they lived was called Paradise. And there were ever so\nmany animals in it--all kinds of animals--elephants, and tigers, and\nleopards, and giraffes, and camels, and sheep, and horses, and cows; but\neven the wild animals did them no harm. But the children were not alone\nin that garden: their Father lived with them. And every morning when\nthey woke up their first thought was to go to him and to look up into\nhis mild, kind face for a loving glance, and every evening before they\nwent to sleep he would bend over them. And once, as they lay under the\ngreat tree, looking at a star shining through the branches, Adam said to\nEve: \"Our Father's eye shines just like that star.\"\n\nOne day their Father said to them: \"My children, there is one tree in\nthis beautiful garden the fruit of which you must not eat, because it is\nhurtful to you. You can not understand why, but you know that you must\nobey your Father even when you do not understand. He loves you and knows\nbest what is for your good.\" So they promised, and for a time\nremembered. But one day it happened that Eve was passing near the tree\nof the fruit of which she knew she must not eat, when what should she\nhear but a snake talking to her. She did not see it, but she heard its\nvoice quite distinctly. And this is what the snake said: \"You poor Eve!\nyou must certainly have a hard time. Your Father is always forbidding\nyou something. How stern he is! I am sure that other children can have\nall the fruit they want.\" Eve was frightened at first. She knew that her\nFather was kind and good, and that the snake was telling a falsehood. He\ndid not always forbid things. But still he had forbidden her to eat of\nthe fruit, and she thought that was a little hard; and she could not\nunderstand at all why he had done so. Then the snake spoke again:\n\"Listen, Eve! He forbade you to eat only of it. It can do no harm just\nto look at it. Go up to it. See how it glistens among the branches! How\ngolden it looks!\" And the snake kept on whispering: \"How good it must be\nto the taste! Just take one bite of it. Nobody sees you. Only one bite;\nthat can do no harm.\" And Eve glanced around, and saw that no one was\nlooking, and presently with a hasty movement she seized the fruit and\nate of it. Then she said to herself: \"Adam, too, must eat of it. I can\nnever bear to eat it alone.\" So she ran hastily up to Adam, and said:\n\"See, I have some of the forbidden fruit, and you, too, must eat.\" And\nhe, too, looked at it and was tempted, and ate. But that evening they\nwere very much afraid. They knew they had done wrong, and their\nconsciences troubled them. So they hurried away into the wood where it\nwas deepest, and hid themselves in the bushes. But soon they heard their\nFather calling to them; and it was strange, their Father's voice had\nnever sounded so sad before. And in a few moments he found them where\nthey were hiding. And he said to them: \"Why do you hide from me?\" And\nthey were very much confused, and stammered forth all sorts of excuses.\nBut he said: \"Come hither, children.\" And he looked into their eyes, and\nsaid: \"Have you eaten of the fruit of which I told you not to eat?\" And\nAdam, who was thoughtless and somewhat selfish, spoke up, and said:\n\"Yes, but it was Eve who gave me of it; she led me on.\" And Eve hung her\nhead, and said: \"It was the snake that made me eat.\" Now the snake, you\nknow, was no real snake at all; she never saw it, she only heard its\nvoice. And, you know, when we want to do anything wicked, there is\nwithin every one of us something bad, that seems to whisper: \"Just look!\nMere looking will do no harm\"; and then: \"Just taste; no one sees you.\"\nSo the snake was the bad feeling in Eve's heart. And their Father took\nthem by the hand, and said: \"Tomorrow, when it is dawn, you will have to\nleave this place. In this beautiful Paradise no one can stay who has\nonce disobeyed. You, Adam, must learn to labor; and, you, Eve, to be\npatient and self-denying for others. And, perhaps, after a long, long\ntime, some day, you will come back with me into Paradise again.\"\n\nIt is a free rendering, I admit. I have filled in the details so as to\nbring it down to the level of children's minds, but the outlines, I\nthink, are there. The points I have developed are all suggested in the\nBible. The temptation begins when the snake says with characteristic\nexaggeration: \"Is it true that of _all_ the fruit you are forbidden to\neat?\" Exaggerating the hardships of the moral command is the first step\non the downward road. The second step is Eve's approach to look at the\nfruit--\"and she saw that it was good for food, and pleasant to the\neyes.\" The third step is the actual enjoyment of what is forbidden. The\nfourth step is the desire for companionship in guilt, so characteristic\nof sin--\"and she gave also unto her husband with her, and he did eat.\"\nThe next passage describes the working of conscience, the fear, the\nshame, the desire to hide, and then comes the moral verdict: You are\nguilty, both of you. You have lost your paradise. Try to win it back by\nlabor and suffering.\n\n\n     NOTE.--I would add to what has been said in the text, that the\n     pupils are expected to return to the study of the Bible, to read\n     and re-read these stories, and to receive a progressively higher\n     interpretation of their meaning as they grow older. If in the above\n     I have spoken in a general way of a Father and his two children, it\n     will be easy for the Sunday-school teacher to add later on that the\n     Father in the story was God.\n\n\n\n_Cain and Abel._\n\nIn teaching the story of the two brothers Cain and Abel the following\npoints should be noted. The ancients believed that earthly prosperity\nand well-being depended on the favor of God, or the gods, and that the\nfavor of the gods could be secured by sacrifice. If any one brought a\nsacrifice and yet prosperity did not set in, this was supposed to be a\nsign that his sacrifice had not been accepted. On the other hand, to say\nof any person that his sacrifice had been accepted, was tantamount to\nsaying that he was happy and prosperous. Applying this to the story of\nCain and Abel, we may omit all mention of the bringing of the\nsacrifices, which presents a great and needless difficulty to children's\nminds, and simply make the equivalent statement that Abel was prosperous\nand Cain was not.\n\nAgain, Cain is not represented as an intentional murderer. The true\ninterpretation of the story depends on our bearing this in mind. It is\nerroneous to suppose that a brand was fixed on Cain's forehead. The\npassage in question, correctly understood, means that God gave Cain a\nsign to reassure him that he should not be regarded by men as a common\nmurderer. With these prefatory remarks the story may be told somewhat as\nfollows:\n\nLong ago there lived two brothers. The name of the elder was Cain, and\nof the younger Abel. Cain was a farmer. He toiled in the sweat of his\nbrow, tilling the stubborn ground, taking out stones, building fences.\nWinter and summer he was up before the sun, and yet, despite all his\nlabor, things did not go well with him. His crops often failed through\nno fault of his. He never seemed to have an easy time. Moreover, Cain\nwas of a proud disposition. Honest he was, and truthful, but taciturn,\nnot caring much to talk to people whom he met, but rather keeping to\nhimself. Abel, on the other hand, was a shepherd. He led, or seemed to\nlead, the most delightfully easy life. He followed his flocks from one\npasture to another, watching them graze; and at noon he would often lie\ndown in the shade of some leafy tree and play on his flute by the hour.\nHe was a skillful musician, a bright, talkative companion, and\nuniversally popular. He was a little selfish too, as happy people\nsometimes are. He liked to talk about his successes, and, in a perfectly\ninnocent way, which yet stung Cain to the quick, he would rattle on to\nhis brother about the increase of his herds, about his plans and\nprospects, and the pleasant things that people were saying of him. Cain\ngrew jealous of his brother Abel. He did not like to confess it to\nhimself, but yet it was a fact. He kept comparing his own life of\ngrinding toil with the easy, lazy life of the shepherd--it was not quite\nso lazy, but so it seemed to Cain--his own poverty with the other's\nwealth, his own loneliness with Abel's popularity. And a frown would\noften gather on his brow, and he grew more and more moody and silent. He\nknew that he was not in the right state of mind. There was a voice\nwithin him that said: \"Sin is at thy door, but thou canst become master\nover it.\" Sin is like a wild beast crouching outside the door of the\nheart. Open the door ever so little, and it will force its way in, and\nwill have you in its power. Keep the door shut, therefore; do not let\nthe first evil thought enter into your heart. Thus only can you remain\nmaster of yourself. But Cain was already too far gone to heed the\nwarning voice. One day he and Abel were walking together in the fields.\nAbel, no doubt, was chatting in his usual gay and thoughtless manner.\nThe world was full of sunshine to him; and he did not realize in the\nleast what dark shadows were gathering about his brother's soul. Perhaps\nthe conversation ran somewhat as follows: He had just had an addition to\nhis herd, the finest calf one could imagine: would not Cain come to\nadmire it? And then, to-morrow evening he was to play for the dancers on\nthe green, at the village feast: would not Cain join in the\nmerry-making? When the solitary, embittered Cain heard such talk as this\nthe angry feeling in his heart rose up like a flood. Overmastered by his\npassion, with a few wild, incoherent words of rage he turned upon his\nbrother and struck him one fierce blow. Ah, that was a relief! The\npent-up feeling had found vent at last. The braggart had received the\nchastisement he deserved! And Cain walked on; and for a time continued\nto enjoy his satisfaction. He had just noticed that Abel, when struck,\nhad staggered and fallen, but he did not mind that. \"Let him lie there\nfor a while; he will pick himself up presently. He may be lame for a few\ndays, and his milk-white face may not be so fair at the feast, but that\nwill be all the better for him. It will teach him a lesson.\"\nNevertheless, when he had walked on for some distance he began to feel\nuneasy. He looked around from time to time to see whether Abel was\nfollowing him, and the voice of conscience began to be heard, saying,\n\"Cain, where is thy brother?\" But he silenced it by saying to himself,\n\"Am I my brother's keeper? Is he such a child that he can not take care\nof himself--that he can not stand a blow?\" But he kept looking back more\nand more often, and when he saw no one coming, he came at last to a dead\nhalt. His heart was beating violently by this time; the beads of\nperspiration were gathered on his brow. He turned back to seek his\nmissing brother. Then, as he did not meet him, he began to run, and\nfaster and faster he ran, until at last, panting and out of breath, with\na horrible fear hounding him on, he arrived at the place where he had\nstruck the blow. And there he saw--a pool of blood, and the waxen face\nof his brother, and the glazed, broken eyes! And then he realized what\nhe had done. And it is this situation which the Bible has in view in the\nwords, \"Behold, thy brother's blood cries up from the earth against\nthee.\" And then as he surveyed his deed in stony despair, he said to\nhimself, \"I am accursed from the face of the earth\"--I am unworthy to\nlive. The earth has no resting-place for such as I. But a sign was given\nhim to show him that his life would not be required of him. He had not\ncommitted willful murder. He had simply given the reins to his violent\npassion. He must go into another land, where no one knew him, there\nthrough years of penance to try to regain his peace of soul. The moral\nof the story is: Do not harbor evil thoughts in the mind. If you have\nonce given them entrance, the acts to which they lead are beyond your\ncontrol. Cain's sin consisted in not crushing the feeling of envy in the\nbeginning; in comparing his own lot with that of his more favored\nbrother and dwelling on this comparison, until, in a fit of insane\npassion, he was led on to the unspeakable crime which, indeed, he had\nnever contemplated, to which he had never given an inward assent. The\nstory also illustrates the vain subterfuges with which we still seek to\nsmother the consciousness of guilt after we have done wrong, until the\ntime comes when our eyes are opened and we are compelled to face the\nconsequences of our deeds and to realize them in all their bearings. The\nstory of Cain and Abel is thus a further development of the theme\nalready treated in simpler fashion in the story of Adam and Eve, only\nthat, while in the latter case the filial duty of obedience to parents\nis in the foreground, attention is here directed to the duty which a\nbrother owes to a brother. It is a striking tale, striking in the\nvividness with which it conjures up the circumstances before our minds\nand the clearness with which the principal motives are delineated; and\nit contains an awful warning for all time.\n\nThe question here presents itself, whether we should arrange the\nbiblical stories according to subjects--e. g., grouping together all\nthose which treat of duty to parents, all those which deal with the\nrelations of brothers to brothers, etc.--or whether we should adopt the\nchronological arrangement. On the whole, I am in favor of the latter. It\nis expected that the pupils, as they grow older, will undertake a more\ncomprehensive study of the Bible, and for this they will be better\nprepared if they have been kept to the chronological order from the\noutset. Another more practical reason is, that children tire of one\nsubject if it is kept before their minds too long. It is better,\ntherefore, to arrange the stories in groups or cycles, each of which\nwill afford opportunity to touch on a variety of moral topics. It will\nbe impossible to continue to relate _in extenso_ the stories which I\nhave selected, and I shall therefore content myself in the main with\ngiving the points of each story upon which the teacher may lay stress.\n\n\n_The Story of Noah and his Sons._\n\nDescribe the beauty of the vine, and of the purple grapes hanging in\nclusters amid the green leaves. How sweet is this fruit to the taste!\nBut the juice of it has a dangerous property. Once there lived a man,\nNoah, who had three sons. He planted a vine, plucked the grapes, but did\nnot know the dangerous property of the juice. The second son, on seeing\nhis father in a state of intoxication, allowed his sense of the\nridiculous to overcome his feeling of reverence. But the eldest and the\nyoungest sons acted differently. They took a garment, covered their\nfather with it, and averted their faces so as not to see his disgrace.\nThe moral is quite important. An intelligent child can not help\ndetecting a fault now and then even in the best of parents. But the\nright course for him to take is to throw the mantle over the fault, and\nto turn away his face. He should say to himself: Am I the one to judge\nmy parents--I who have been the recipient of so many benefits at their\nhands, and who see in them so many virtues, so much superior wisdom? By\nsuch reasoning the feeling of reverence is even deepened. The momentary\nsuperiority which the child feels serves only to bring out his general\ninferiority.\n\n\n_The Abraham Cycle._\n\nThere is a whole series of stories belonging to this group, illustrating\nin turn the virtues of brotherly harmony, generosity toward the weak,\nhospitality toward strangers, and maternal love. Abraham and Lot are\nnear kinsmen. Their servants quarrel, and to avoid strife the former\nadvises a separation. \"If thou wilt go to the left,\" he says, \"I will\nturn to the right; if thou preferrest the land to the right, I will take\nthe left.\" Abraham, being the older, was entitled to the first choice,\nbut he waived his claim. Lot chose the fairer portion, and Abraham\nwillingly assented. \"Let there be no strife between us, for we be\nbrethren.\" The lesson is, that the older and wiser of two brothers or\nkinsmen may well yield a part of his rights for harmony's sake.\n\nAbraham's conduct toward the King of Sodom is an instance of generosity.\nThe story of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah may be introduced by\ndescribing the Dead Sea and the surrounding scene of desolation. The\nmoral lies in the circumstance that ill treatment of strangers brought\ndown the doom. Hospitality toward strangers is one of the shining\nvirtues of the Old Testament heroes. Even at the present day strangers\nare still despised and ridiculed by the vulgar, their foreign manners,\nlanguage, and habits seeming contemptible; the lesson of hospitality is\nnot yet superfluous.\n\nThe story of _Hagar and her Child_ I should recast in such a way as to\nexclude what in it is repellent, and retain the touching picture of\nmaternal affection. I should relate it somewhat as follows: There was\nonce a little lad whose name was Ishmael. He had lost his father and had\nonly his mother to cling to. She was a tall, beautiful lady, with dark\neyes which were often very sad, but they would light up, and there was\nalways a sweet smile on her lips whenever she looked at her darling boy.\nIshmael and his mother, Hagar, had never been separated; they were all\nin all to each other. One day it happened that they walked away from\ntheir home, which was near the great, sandy desert. Ishmael's mother was\nin deep distress, there was something troubling her, and every now and\nthen a tear would steal down her cheeks. Ishmael was sad, too, because\nhis mother was, but he did not dare to ask her what it was that grieved\nher, fearing to give her pain. So they walked on and on, holding each\nother's hands in silence. But at last they saw that they had lost their\nway; and they tried first one direction, and then another, thinking that\nit would bring them back toward home, but they only got deeper and\ndeeper into the vast, lonely desert. And the sun burned hot and hotter\nabove their heads, and little Ishmael, who had tried to keep up like a\nbrave lad, at last became so parched with thirst, and so faint with want\nof food, and so tired with walking--for they had wandered about for\nmany, many hours--that he could go on no farther. Then his mother took\nhim up in her arms and laid him under a bush, where there was a little\nshade. And then, oh then, how her poor heart was wrung, and how she wept\nto see her darling in such suffering, and how she cried for help! Then\nshe sat down on the glaring sand at some distance away, and turned her\nface in the direction opposite to where Ishmael was lying; for she said,\n\"I can not bear to see my boy die.\" But just as she had given up all\nhope, suddenly she saw a noble-looking man, wearing the dress of the\nBedouins, approach her. He had come from behind one of the sand hills,\nand it seemed to her as if he had come down straight from the sky. He\nasked her why she was in such grief, and when she told him, and pointed\nto her little son, he said: \"It is fortunate that you have come to this\nplace. There is a beautiful oasis close by.\" An oasis, children, is a\nspot of fruitful green earth right in the midst of the desert, like an\nisland in the ocean. And the man took the boy up and carried him in his\narms, and Hagar followed after him. And presently, when they came to the\noasis, they found a cool, clear spring, full of the most delicious\nwater, and palm-trees with ever so many dates on them, and all the\npeople who lived there gathered around them. And the man who had been\nso kind proved to be the chief. And he took charge of Ishmael's\neducation, showed him how to shoot with the bow and how to hunt, and was\nlike a real father to him. And when Ishmael grew up he became a great\nchief of the Bedouins. But he always remained true to his mother, and\nloved her with all his heart.\n\nI am strongly in favor of omitting the story of the _Sacrifice of\nIsaac_. I do not think we can afford to tell young children that a\nfather was prepared to draw the knife against his own son, even though\nhe desisted in the end. I should not be willing to inform a child that\nso horrible an impulse could have been entertained even for a moment in\na parent's heart. I regard the story, indeed, as, from an historical\npoint of view, one of the most valuable in the Bible; it has a deep\nmeaning; but it is not food fit for children. A great mistake has been\nmade all along in supposing that whatever is true in religion must be\ncommunicated to children; and that if anything be very true and very\nimportant we ought to hasten to give it to children as early as\npossible; but there must be preparatory training. And the greatest\ntruths are often of such a kind as only the mature mind, ripe in thought\nand experience, is fitted to assimilate.\n\nOne of the most charming idyls of patriarchal times is the story of\n_Rebecca at the Well_. It illustrates positively, as the story of Sodom\ndoes negatively, the duty of hospitality toward strangers. \"Drink, lord,\nand I will give thy camels drink also,\" is a pleasant phrase which is\napt to stick in the memory. Moreover, the story shows the high place\nwhich the trusted servant occupied in the household of his master, and\noffers to the teacher an opportunity of dwelling on the respect due to\nfaithful servants.\n\n\n_The Jacob Cycle._\n\nWhat treatment shall Jacob receive at our hands, he, the sly trickster,\nwho cheats his brother of his birthright and steals a father's blessing?\nYet he is one of the patriarchs, and is accorded the honorable title of\n\"champion of God.\" To hold him up to the admiration of the young is\nimpossible. To gloss over his faults and try to explain them away were a\nsorry business, and honesty forbids. The Bible itself gives us the right\nclew. His faults are nowhere disguised. He is represented as a person\nwho makes a bad start in life--a very bad start, indeed--but who pays\nthe penalty of his wrong-doing. His is a story of penitential\ndiscipline.\n\nIn telling the story, all reference to the duplicity of Rebecca should\nbe omitted, for the same reason that malicious step-mothers and cruel\nfathers have been excluded from the fairy tales.\n\nThe points to be discussed may be summarized as follows:\n\n_Taking advantage of a brother in distress._--Jacob purchases the\nbirthright for a mess of pottage.\n\n_Tender attachment to a helpless old father._--Esau goes out hunting to\nsupply a special delicacy for his father's table. This is a point which\nchildren will appreciate. Unable to confer material benefits on their\nparents, they can only show their love by slight attentions.\n\n_Deceit._--Jacob simulates the appearance of his older brother and\nsteals the blessing. In this connection it will be necessary to say that\na special power was supposed to attach to a father's blessing, and that\nthe words once spoken were deemed irrevocable.\n\n_Jacob's penitential discipline begins._--The deceiver is deceived, and\nmade to feel in his own person the pain and disappointment which deceit\ncauses. He is repeatedly cheated by his master Laban, especially in the\nmatter which is nearest to him, his love for Rachel.\n\n_The forgiveness of injuries._--Esau's magnanimous conduct toward his\nbrother.\n\n_The evil consequences of tale-bearing and conceit._--It is a\nsignificant fact that Joseph is not a mere coxcomb. He is a man of\ngenius, as his later career proves, and the stirrings of his genius\nmanifest themselves in his early dreams of future greatness. Persons of\nthis description are not always pleasant companions, especially in their\nyouth. They have not yet accomplished anything to warrant distinction,\nand yet they feel within themselves the presentiment of a destiny and of\nachievements above the ordinary. Their faults, their arrogance, their\nseemingly preposterous claims, are not to be excused, but neither is\nthe envy they excite excusable. One of the hardest things to learn is to\nrecognize without envy the superiority of a brother.\n\n_Moral cowardice._--Reuben is guilty of moral cowardice. He was an\nopportunist, who sought to accomplish his ends by diplomacy. If he, as\nthe oldest brother, had used his authority and boldly denounced the\ncontemplated crime, he might have averted the long train of miseries\nthat followed.\n\n_Strength and depth of paternal love._--\"Joseph is no more: an evil\nbeast has devoured him. I will go mourning for my son Joseph into the\ngrave.\" It is a piece of poetic justice that Jacob, who deceived his\nfather in the matter of the blessing by covering himself with the skin\nof a kid, is himself deceived by the blood of a kid of the goats with\nwhich the coat of Joseph had been stained.\n\nIn speaking of the temptation of Joseph in the house of Potiphar, it is\nenough to say that the wife conspired against her husband, and\nendeavored to induce Joseph to betray his master. A pretty addition to\nthe story is to be found in the Talmud, to the effect that Joseph saw in\nimagination the face of his father before him in the moment of\ntemptation, and was thereby strengthened to resist.\n\n_The light of a superior mind can not be hidden even in a\nprison._--Joseph wins the favor of his fellow-prisoners, and an\nopportunity is thus opened to him to exercise his talents on the largest\nscale.\n\n_Affliction chastens._--The famine had in the mean time spread to\nPalestine. The shadow of the grief for Joseph still lay heavily on the\nhousehold of the patriarch. Joseph is lost; shall Benjamin, too, perish?\nIt is pleasant to observe that the character of the brothers in the mean\ntime has been changed for the better. There is evidently a lurking sense\nof guilt and a desire to atone for it in the manner in which Judah\npledges himself for the safety of the youngest child. And the same\nmarked change is visible in the conduct of all the brothers on the\njourney. The stratagem of the cup was cunningly devised to test their\nfeelings. They might have escaped by throwing the blame on Benjamin.\nInstead of that, they dread nothing so much as that he may have to\nsuffer, and are willing to sacrifice everything to save him. When this\nnew spirit has become thoroughly apparent, the end to which the whole\ngroup of Jacob stories pointed all along is reached; the work of moral\nregeneration is complete. Jacob himself has been purified by affliction,\nand the brothers and Joseph have been developed by the same hard\ntaskmaster into true men. The scene of recognition which follows, when\nthe great vice-regent orders his attendants from the apartment and\nembraces those who once attempted his life, with the words, \"I am\nJoseph, your brother: does my father still live?\" is touching in the\nextreme, and the whole ends happily in a blaze of royal pomp, like a\ntrue Eastern tale.\n\nA word as to the _method_ which should be used in teaching these\nstories. If the fairy tale holds the moral element in solution, if the\nfable drills the pupil in distinguishing one moral trait at a time, the\nbiblical stories exhibit a combination of moral qualities, or, more\nprecisely, the interaction of moral causes and effects; and it is\nimportant for the teacher to give expression to this difference in the\nmanner in which he handles the stories. Thus, in the fables we have\nsimply one trait, like ingratitude, and its immediate consequences. The\nsnake bites the countryman, and is cast out; there the matter ends. In\nthe story of Joseph we have, first, the partiality of the father, which\nproduces or encourages self-conceit in the son; Joseph's conceit\nproduces envy in the brothers. This envy reacts on all concerned--on\nJoseph, who in consequence is sold into slavery; on the father, who is\nplunged into inconsolable grief; on the brothers, who nearly become\nmurderers. The servitude of Joseph destroys his conceit and develops his\nnobler nature. Industry, fidelity, and sagacity raise him to high power.\nThe sight of the constant affliction of their father on account of\nJoseph's loss mellows the heart of the brothers, etc. It is this\ninterweaving of moral causes and effects that gives to the stories their\npeculiar value. They are true moral pictures; and, like the pictures\nused in ordinary object lessons, they serve to train the power of\nobservation. Trained observation, however, is the indispensable\npreliminary of correct moral judgment.\n\n\n_The Moses Cycle._\n\nThe figures of the patriarchs and the prophets appeal to us with a fresh\ninterest the moment we regard them as human beings like ourselves, who\nwere tempted as we are, who struggled as we are bound to do, and who\nacted, howsoever the divine economy might supervene, on their own\nresponsibility. Looked at from this point of view, the figure of Moses,\nthe Liberator, approaches our sympathies at the same time that he towers\nin imposing proportions above our level. Let us briefly review his\ncareer. Like Arminius at a later day, he is educated at the court of the\nenemies of his people. In dress, in manners, in speech, he doubtless\nresembles the grandees of Pharaoh's court. When he approaches the well\nin Midian, the daughter of Jethro exclaims, \"Behold, an Egyptian is\ncoming!\" But at heart he remains a Hebrew, and is deeply touched by the\ncruel sufferings of his race. His first public intervention on their\nbehalf takes place when he strikes down and kills a native overseer whom\nhe detects in the act of maltreating a Hebrew slave. This is\ncharacteristic of the manner in which reformers begin. They direct their\nfirst efforts against the particular consequences of some great general\nwrong. Later on they perceive the uselessness of such a procedure and\ntake heart to attack the evil at its source. Moses flees into the\ndesert. The lonely life he leads there is necessary to the development\nof his ideas. Solitude is essential to the growth of genius. The\nburning bush is the outward symbol of an inward fact. The fire which can\nnot be quenched is in his own breast, and out of that inward burning he\nhears more and more distinctly the voice which bids him go back and free\nhis people. But when he considers the means at his disposal, when in\nfancy he sees his people, a miserable horde of slaves, pitted against\nthe armed hosts of Pharaoh, he is ready to despair; until he hears the\ncomforting voice, which says, \"The Eternal is with thee; the\nunchangeable power of right is on thy side: it will prevail!\" Like\nJeremiah, like Isaiah, like all great reformers, Moses is profoundly\nimbued with the sense of his unfitness for the task laid upon him. He\npleads that he is heavy of speech. He can only stammer forth the message\nof freedom. But he is reassured by the thought that a brother will be\nfound, that helpers will arise, that the thought which he can barely\nformulate will be translated by other lesser men into a form suitable\nfor the popular understanding. He returns to Egypt to find that the\ngreatest obstacle in his way is the lethargy and unbelief of the very\npeople whom he wishes to help. This again is a typical feature of his\ncareer. The greatest trials of the reformer are due not to the open\nenmity of the oppressor, but to the meanness, the distrust and jealousy,\nof those whom oppression has degraded. At last, however, the miracle of\nsalvation is wrought, the weak prevail over the mighty, the cause of\njustice triumphs against all apparent odds to the contrary. The slaves\nrise against their masters, the flower of Egyptian chivalry is\ndestroyed. Pharaoh rallies his army and sets out in pursuit. But the\nHebrews, under Moses's guidance, have gained the start, and escape into\nthe wilderness in safety.\n\nFreedom is a precious opportunity--no more. Its value depends on the use\nto which it is put. And therefore, no sooner was the act of liberation\naccomplished, than the great leader turned to the task of positive\nlegislation, the task of developing a higher moral life among his\npeople. But here a new and keener disappointment awaited him. When he\ndescended from the mount, the glow of inspiration still upon his face,\nthe tablets of the law in his hand, he saw the people dancing about the\ngolden calf. It is at this moment that Michel Angelo, deeply realizing\nthe human element in the biblical story, has represented the form of the\nliberator in the colossal figure which was destined for Pope Julius's\ntomb. \"The right foot is slightly advanced; the long beard trembles with\nthe emotion which quivers through the whole frame; the eyes flash\nindignant wrath; the right hand grasps the tablets of the law; in\nanother moment, we see it plainly, he will leap from his sitting posture\nand shatter the work which he has made upon the rocks.\" This trait, too,\nis typical. Many a leader of a noble cause has felt, in moments of deep\ndisappointment, as if he could shatter the whole work of his life. Many\na man, in like situation, has said to himself: The people are willing\nenough to hail the message of the higher law to-day, but to-morrow they\nsink back into their dull, degraded condition, as if the vision from the\nmount had never been reported to them. Let me, then, leave them to their\ndreary ways, to dance about their golden calf. But a better and stronger\nmood prevailed in Moses. He ascended once more to the summit, and there\nprostrated himself in utter self-renunciation and self-effacement. He\nasked nothing for himself, only that the people whom he loved might be\nbenefited ever so little, be raised ever so slowly above their low\ncondition. And again the questioning spirit came upon him, and he said,\nas many another has said: The paths of progress are dark and twisted;\nthe course of history seems so often to be in the wrong direction. How\ncan I be sure that there is such a thing as eternal truth--that the\nright will prevail in the end? And then there came to him that grand\nrevelation, the greatest, as I think, and the most sublime in the Old\nTestament, when the eternal voice answered his doubt, and said: \"Thou\nwouldst know my ways, but canst not. No living being can see my face;\nonly from the rearward canst thou know me.\" As a ship sails through the\nwaters and leaves its wake behind, so the divine Power passes through\nthe world and leaves behind the traces by which it can be known. And\nwhat are those traces? Justice and mercy. Cherish, therefore, the divine\nelement in thine own nature, and thou wilt see it reflected in the world\nabout thee. Wouldst thou be sure that there is such a thing as a divine\nPower? be thyself just and merciful. And so Moses descended again to his\npeople, and became exceeding charitable in spirit. The Bible says: \"The\nman Moses was exceeding humble; there was no one more humble than he on\nthe face of the earth.\" He bore with resignation their complaints, their\nmurmurings, their alternate cowardice and foolhardiness. He was made to\nfeel, like many another in his place, that his foes were they of his own\nhousehold. He had an only brother and an only sister. His brother and\nsister rose up against him. His kinsmen, too, revolted from him. He\nendured all their weakness, all their follies; he sought to lift them by\nslow degrees to the height of his own aims. He set the paths of life and\ndeath before them, and told them that the divine word can not be found\nby crossing the seas or by searching the heavens, but must be found in\nthe human heart; and if men find it not there they will find it nowhere\nelse. And so, at last, his pilgrimage drew to a close. He had reached\nthe confines of Palestine. Once more he sought the mountain-top, and\nthere beheld the promised land stretching far away--the land which his\neyes were to see but which he was never to enter. Few great reformers,\nindeed few men who have started a great movement in history, and have\nbeen the means of producing deep and permanent changes in the ideas and\ninstitutions of society, have lived to see those changes consummated.\nThe course of evolution is slow, and the reformer can hope at best to\nsee the promised land from afar--as in a dream. Happy he if, like\nMoses, he retains the force of his convictions unabated, if his\nspiritual sight remains undimmed, if the splendid vision which attended\nhim in the beginning inspires and consoles him to the end.\n\nThe narrative which has thus been sketched touches on some of the\nweightiest problems of human existence, and deals with motives both\ncomplex and lofty. I have entered into the interpretation of these\nmotives for the purpose of showing that they are too complex and too\nlofty to be within the comprehension of children, and that it is an\nerror, though unfortunately a common one, to attempt to use the grand\ncareer of a reformer and liberator as a text for the moral edification\nof the very young. They are wholly unprepared to understand, and that\nwhich is not understood, if forced on the attention, awakens repugnance\nand disgust. Few of those who have been compelled to study the life of\nMoses in their childhood have ever succeeded in conquering this\nrepugnance, or have drawn from it, even in later life, the inspiration\nand instruction which it might otherwise have afforded them. For our\nprimary course, however, we can extract a few points interesting even to\nchildren, thus making them familiar with the name of Moses, and\npreparing the way for a deeper interest later on. The incidents of the\nstory which I should select are these: The child Moses exposed on the\nNile; the good sister watching over his safety; the kind princess\nadopting him as her son; the sympathy manifested by him for his\nenslaved brethren despite his exemption from their misfortunes. The\nkilling of the Egyptian should be represented as a crime, palliated but\nnot excused by the cruelty of the overseer. Special stress may be laid\nupon the chivalric conduct of Moses toward the young girls at the well\nof Midian. The teacher may then go on to say that Moses, having\nsucceeded in freeing his people from the power of the Egyptian king,\nbecame their chief, that many wise laws are ascribed to him, etc. The\nstory of the spies, and of the end of Moses, may also be briefly told.\n\nThe mention of the laws of Moses leads me to offer a suggestion. I have\nremarked above that children should be taught to observe moral pictures\nbefore any attempt is made to deduce moral principles; but certain\n_simple rules_ should be given even to the very young--must, indeed, be\ngiven them for their guidance. Now, in the legislation ascribed to Moses\nwe find a number of rules fit for children, and a collection of these\nrules might be made for the use of schools. They should be committed to\nmemory by the pupils, and perhaps occasionally recited in chorus. I have\nin mind such rules as these:[12]\n\n1. Ye shall not lie. (Many persons who pay attention only to the\nDecalogue, and forget the legislation of which it forms a part, seem not\nto be aware that there is in the Pentateuch [Lev. xix, 11] a distinct\ncommandment against lying.)\n\n2. Ye shall not deceive one another.\n\n3. Ye shall take no bribe.\n\n4. Honor thy father and thy mother.\n\n5. Every one shall reverence his mother and his father. (Note that the\nfather is placed first in the one passage and the mother first in the\nother, to indicate the equal title of both to their children's\nreverence.)\n\n6. Thou shalt not speak disrespectfully of those in authority.\n\n7. Before the hoary head thou shalt rise and pay honor to the aged.\n\n10. Thou shalt not spread false reports.\n\n11. Thou shalt not go about as a tale-bearer among thy fellows.\n\n12. Thou shalt not hate thy neighbor in thy heart, but shalt warn him of\nhis evil-doing.\n\n13. Thou shalt not bear a grudge against any, but thou shalt love thy\nneighbor as thyself.\n\n8. Thou shalt not speak evil of the deaf (thinking that he can not hear\nthee), nor put an obstacle in the way of the blind.\n\n9. If there be among you a poor man, thou shalt not harden thy heart,\nnor shut thy hand from thy poor brother, but thou shalt open thy hand\nwide unto him, and shalt surely lend him sufficient for his need.\n\n14. If thou seest the property of thine enemy threatened with\ndestruction, thou shalt do thy utmost to save it.\n\n15. If thou findest what is not thine own, and the owner is not known\nto thee, guard it carefully, that thou mayest restore it to its rightful\nowner.\n\n16. Thou shalt not do evil because many others are doing the same evil.\n\nBearing grudges, lying, mocking those who (like the deaf and blind) are\nafflicted with personal defects, appropriating what is found without\nattempting to discover the owner, seeking to excuse wrong on the plea\nthat many others are guilty of it--all these are forms of moral evil\nwith which children are perfectly familiar, and against which they need\nto be warned. It is more than strange that such commandments as the\nsixth and eighth of the Decalogue (the commandment against murder and\nagainst adultery, forsooth), which are inapplicable to little children,\nshould be made so much of in primary moral instruction, while those\nother commandments which do come home to them are often overlooked. The\ntheory here expounded, that moral teaching should keep pace with the\nexperience and intelligence of the child, should save us from such\nmistakes.\n\nTo proceed with the stories, the book of Joshua offers nothing that we\ncan turn to account, nor do the stories of Jael, Deborah, and Gideon\ncontain moral lessons fit for the young. Sour milk is not proper food\nfor children, nor do those stories afford the proper moral food in\nwhich, so to speak, the milk of human kindness has turned sour. The\nlabors of Samson, the Hebrew Hercules, are likewise unfit to be used at\nthis stage, at least for the purpose of moral instruction. The story of\nthe daughter of Jephtha, the Hebrew Iphigenia, is exquisitely pathetic,\nbut it involves the horrible idea of human sacrifice, and therefore had\nbetter be omitted. The acts and speeches of Samuel mark an epoch in the\nhistory of the Hebrew religion, and are of profound interest to the\nscholar. But there are certain features, such as the killing of Agag,\nwhich would have to be eliminated in any case; then the theological and\nmoral elements are so blended that it would be difficult if not\nimpossible to separate them; and altogether the character of this mighty\nancient seer, this Hebrew Warwick, this king-maker and enemy of kings,\nis above the comprehension of primary scholars. We shall therefore omit\nthe whole intervening period, and pass at once from the Moses cycle to\n\n\n_The David Cycle._\n\nThe first story of this group is that of _Naomi and Ruth_, the\nancestress of David. Upon the matchless beauty of this tale it is\nunnecessary to expatiate. I wish to remark, however, in passing that it\nillustrates as well as any other--better perhaps than any other--the\npeculiar art of the biblical narrative to which we have referred above.\nIf any one at the present day were asked to decide whether a woman\nplaced in Ruth's situation would act rightly in leaving her home and\nfollowing an aged mother-in-law to a distant country, how many pros and\ncons would he have to weigh before he would be able to say yes or no?\nAre her own parents still living, and are they so situated that she is\njustified in leaving them? Are there other blood relations who have a\nprior claim on her? Has she raised expectations at home which she ought\nnot to disappoint, or undertaken duties which ought not to be set aside\nin deference to a sentiment no matter how noble? Of all such side issues\nand complications of duty which would render a decision like hers\ndifficult in modern times, the story as we have it before us is cleared.\nAll minor traits are suppressed. It is assumed that she has a right to\ngo if she pleases, and the mind is left free to dwell, unimpeded by any\ncounter-considerations, upon the beauty of her choice. This choice\nderives its excellence from the fact that it was perfectly free. There\nwas no tie of consanguinity between Naomi and her. The two women were\nrelated in such a way that the bond might either be drawn more tightly\nor severed without blame. Orpah, too, pitied her mother-in-law. She\nwept, but she returned to her home. We can not, on that account, condemn\nher. It was not her bounden duty to go. Ruth, on the other hand, might\nperhaps have satisfied her more sensitive conscience by accompanying her\nmother-in-law as far as Bethlehem, and then returning to Moab. But she\npreferred instead exile and the hardships of a life among strangers. Not\nbeing a daughter, she freely took upon herself the duties of a daughter;\nand it is this that constitutes the singular merit of her action. In\ntelling the story it is best to follow the original as closely as\npossible. \"Entreat me not to leave thee, nor to desist from following\nafter thee, for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I\nwill lodge: thy people shall be my people: where thou diest will I die\nand there will I be buried.\" Where in universal literature shall we find\nwords more eloquent of tender devotion than these? It will be noticed\nthat I have left out the phrase \"and thy God shall be my God\" for two\nreasons. No matter how much we may love another person, religious\nconvictions ought to be held sacred. We have no right to give up our\nconvictions even for affection's sake. Moreover, the words correctly\nunderstood are really nothing but an amplification of what has preceded.\nThe language of Ruth refers throughout to the proposed change of\ncountry. \"Whither thou goest, I will go; where thou lodgest, I will\nlodge: thy folk shall be my folk; where thou diest, I will die.\" And the\nphrase \"Thy God shall be my God\" has the same meaning. The ancients\nbelieved that every country has its God, and to say \"Thy God shall be my\nGod\" was tantamount to saying \"Thy country shall be my country.\" It is\nbetter, therefore, to omit these words. Were we to retain them, the\nimpression might be created that Ruth contemplated a change of religion\nmerely to please the aged Naomi, and such a step from a moral point of\nview would be unwarrantable. It was this Gentile woman Ruth who became\nthe ancestress of the royal house of David.\n\nThe story of _David's life_ is replete with dramatic interest. It may\nbe arranged in a series of pictures. First picture: David and\nGoliath--i. e., skill pitted against brute strength, or the deserved\npunishment of a bully. Every boy takes comfort in this story. Second\npicture: David and Jonathan, their arms twined about each other's neck,\na beautiful example of youthful friendship. Especially should the\nunselfishness of Jonathan be noted. He, the Hebrew crown prince, so far\nfrom being jealous of his rival, recognized the superior qualities of\nthe latter and served him with the most generous fidelity. Third\npicture: David the harper, playing before the gloomy, moody king, whom\nan evil spirit has possessed. It should be noted how difficult is the\ntask incumbent upon Jonathan of combining his duty to his father and his\naffection for his friend. Yet he fails in neither. Fourth picture:\nDavid's loyalty manifest. He has the monarch in his power in the camp,\nin the cave, and proves that there is no evil intention in his mind. The\nwords of Saul are very touching, \"Is it thy voice I hear, my son David?\"\nFifth picture: the battle, the tragical end of Saul and Jonathan. The\ndirge of David floats above the field: \"The beauty of Israel is slain\nupon the high places. How are the mighty fallen!\" etc. A second series\nof pictures now begins. David is crowned king, first by his clansmen,\nthen by the united tribes. David, while besieging Bethlehem, is athirst\nand there is no water. Three of his soldiers cut their way to the well\nnear the gate, which is guarded by the enemy, and bring back a cup of\nwater. He refuses it, saying: \"It is not water, but the blood of the men\nwho have risked their lives for me.\" Omitting the story of Bathsheba, we\ncome next to the rebellion of Absalom. The incidents of this rebellion\nmay be depicted as follows: First, Absalom in his radiant beauty at the\nfeast of the sheep-shearer. Next, Absalom at the gate playing the\ndemagogue, secretly inciting the people to revolt. Next, David ascending\nMount Olivet weeping, the base Shimei, going along a parallel ridge,\nflinging stones at the king and reviling him. David remarks: \"If my own\nson seek my life, how shall I be angry with this Benjamite?\" Next, the\ndeath of Absalom in the wood. Finally, David at the gate receiving the\nnews of Absalom's death, and breaking forth into the piercing cry: \"O my\nson Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee! O\nAbsalom, my son, my son!\" It is the story of a rebellious and undutiful\nchild, and illustrates by contrast the unfathomable depth of a father's\nlove, of a love that yearns even over the wicked, over the lost.\n\nThe points of the stories included in the David cycle are: skill and\ncourage triumphant over brute strength, unselfish friendship, loyalty, a\nleader's generosity toward his followers, and parental love. The\narrangement of the words in the lament of David for his son deserves to\nbe specially noted. It corresponds to and vividly describes the rhythmic\nmovements of the emotions excited by great sorrow. From the life of\nSolomon we select only the judgment, related in I Kings, iii. We may\ncompare with it a similar story, showing, however, interesting\nvariations, in the Jataka tales.\n\nWith this our selections from the Old Testament narrative come to an\nend. The ideal types are exhausted, and the figures which now appear\nupon the scene stand before us in the dry light of history.\n\nFrom the New Testament we select for the primary course the story of the\nGood Samaritan, as illustrative of true charity. Selected passages from\nthe Sermon on the Mount may also be explained and committed to memory.\nThe Beatitudes, however, and the parables lie outside our present\nlimits, presupposing as they do a depth of spiritual experience which is\nlacking in children.\n\n\n     NOTE.--It should be remembered that the above selections have been\n     made with a view to their being included in a course of unsectarian\n     moral instruction. Such a course must not express the religious\n     tenets of any sect or denomination. Much that has here been\n     omitted, however, can be taught in the Sunday schools, the\n     existence of which alongside of the daily schools is, as I have\n     said, presupposed in these lectures. I have simply tried to cull\n     the moral meaning of the stories, leaving, as I believe, the way\n     open for divergent religious interpretations of the same stories.\n     But I realize that the religious teacher may claim the Bible wholly\n     for his own, and may not be willing to share even a part of its\n     treasure with the moral teacher. If this be so, then these\n     selections from the Bible, for the present, at all events, will\n     have to be omitted. They can, nevertheless, be used by judicious\n     parents, and some if not all of the suggestions they contain may\n     prove acceptable to teachers of Sunday schools.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[11] In his Introduction to Homer.\n\n[12] I have taken the liberty of altering the language here and there,\nfor reasons that will be obvious in each case.\n\n\n\n\nX\n\nTHE ODYSSEY AND THE ILIAD.\n\n\nAs we leave the field of biblical literature and turn to the classic\nepic of Greece, a new scene spreads out before us, new forms and faces\ncrowd around us, we breathe a different atmosphere.\n\nThe poems of Homer among the Greeks occupied a place in many respects\nsimilar to that of the Bible among the Hebrews. At Athens there was a\nspecial ordinance that the Homeric poems should be recited once every\nfourth year at the great Panathenaic festival. On this occasion the\nrhapsode, standing on an elevated platform, arrayed in rich robes, with\na golden wreath about his head, addressed an audience of many thousands.\nThe poems were made the subject of mystical, allegorical, and\nrationalistic interpretation, precisely as was the case with the text of\nthe Bible. As late as the first century of our era, the first book\nplaced in the hands of children, the book from which they learned to\nread and write, was Homer. Xenophon in the Symposium has one of the\nguests say: \"My father, anxious that I should become a good man, made me\nlearn all the poems of Homer, and now I could repeat the whole Iliad\nand Odyssey by heart.\"[13]\n\nWe shall not go quite to the same length as Xenophon. We should hardly\nthink it sufficient in order to make a good man of a boy to place Homer\nin his hands. But we do believe that the knowledge of the Homeric poems,\nintroduced at the right time and in the right way, will contribute to\nsuch a result.\n\nLet us, however, examine more closely in what the value of these poems\nconsists.\n\nUlysses is the hero of the Odyssey, Achilles of the Iliad. Ulysses is\npre-eminently the type of resourceful intelligence, Achilles of valor.\nIn what way will these types appeal to our pupils? As the boy develops\nbeyond the early period of childhood, there shows itself in him a spirit\nof adventure. This has been noticed by all careful educators. Now, there\nis a marked difference between the spirit of adventure and the spirit of\nplay. Play consists in the free exercise of our faculties. Its\ncharacteristic mark is the absence of taxing effort. The child is said\nto be at play when it frolics in the grass, when it leaps or runs a\nrace, or when it imitates the doings of its elders. As soon, however, as\nthe exertion required in carrying on a game becomes appreciable, the\ngame is converted into a task and loses its charm. The spirit of\nadventure, on the contrary, is called forth by obstacles; it delights in\nthe prospect of difficulties to be overcome; it is the sign of a fresh\nand apparently boundless energy, which has not yet been taught its\nlimitations by the rough contact with realities. The spirit of adventure\nbegins to develop in children when the home life no longer entirely\ncontents them, when they wish to be freed from the constraint of\ndependence on others, when it seems to them as if the whole world lay\nopen to them and they could dare and do almost anything. It is at this\ntime that children love to read tales of travel, and especially tales of\nthe sea, of shipwreck, and hair-breadth escapes, of monsters slain by\ndauntless heroes, of rescue and victory, no matter how improbable or\nimpossible the means. Now success in such adventures depends largely on\ncourage. And it is good for children to have examples even of physical\ncourage set before them, provided it be not brutal. The craven heart\nought to be despised. Mere good intentions ought not to count. Unless\none has the resolute will, the fearless soul, that can face difficulties\nand danger without flinching, he will never be able to do a man's work\nin the world. This lesson should be imprinted early. A second\nprerequisite of success is presence of mind, or what has been called\nabove resourceful intelligence. And this quality is closely allied with\nthe former. Presence of mind is the result of bravery. The mind will act\neven in perilous situations if it be not paralyzed by fear. It is fear\nthat causes the wheels of thought to stop. If one can only keep off the\nclog of fear, the mind will go on revolving and often find a way of\nescape where there seemed none. Be not a coward, be brave and\nclear-headed in the midst of peril--these are lessons the force of which\nis appreciated by the growing pupil. The Iliad and Odyssey teach them on\nevery page.\n\nBravery and presence of mind, it is true, are commonly regarded as\nworldly, rather than as, in the strict sense, moral qualities. However\nthat may be--and I, for one, am inclined to rank true courage and true\npresence of mind among the highest manifestations of the moral\nnature--these qualities when they show themselves in the young soon\nexert a favorable influence on the whole character, and serve especially\nto transform the attitude of the child toward its parents. Hitherto the\nyoung child has been content to be the mere recipient of favors; as soon\nas the new consciousness of strength, the new sense of independence and\nmanliness has developed, the son begins to feel that he would like to\ngive to his parents as well as to receive from them; to be of use to his\nfather, and to confer benefits, as far as he is able, in the shape of\nsubstantial services. These remarks will find their application in the\nanalysis of the Odyssey, which we shall presently attempt.\n\nThe Odyssey is a tale of the sea. Ulysses is the type of sagacity, as\nwell as of bravery, his mind teems with inventions. In the boy\nTelemachus we behold a son struggling to cut loose from his mother's\nleading-strings, and laudably ambitious to be of use to his parents. In\nthe Odyssey we gain a distinct advance upon the moral results obtained\nfrom the study of the biblical stories. In the Bible it is chiefly the\nlove of parents for their children which is dwelt upon, in the Odyssey\nthe devotion of children to their parents; and this, of course, marks a\nlater stage. In the Odyssey, too, the conjugal relation comes into the\nforeground. In the Bible, the love of the husband for his wife is\nrepeatedly touched upon. But the love of the wife for the husband is not\nequally emphasized, and the relations between the two do not receive\nparticular attention. The joint authority of both parents over their\nchildren is the predominant fact, the delicate bonds of feeling which\nsubsist between the parents themselves are not in view. And this again\ncorresponds to the earlier stage of childhood. The young child perceives\nthe joint love which father and mother bear toward it, and feels the\njoint authority which they exercise over it. But as the child grows up,\nits eyes are opened to perceive more clearly the love which the parents\nbear to one another, and its affection for both is fed and the desire to\nserve them is strengthened by this new insight. Thus it is in the\nOdyssey. The yearning of Ulysses for his wife, the fidelity of Penelope\nduring twenty years of separation, are the leading theme of the\nnarrative, and the effect of this love upon their son is apparent\nthroughout the poem.\n\nLet us now consider the ethical elements of the Odyssey in some detail,\narranging them under separate heads.\n\n1. _Conjugal affection._ Ulysses has been for seven years a prisoner in\nthe cave of Calypso. The nymph of the golden hair offers him the gift of\nimmortality if he will consent to be her husband, but he is proof\nagainst her blandishments, and asks for nothing but to be dismissed, so\nthat he may see his dear home and hold his own true wife once more in\nhis arms.\n\n\n     \"Apart upon the shore\n     He sat and sorrowed. And oft in tears\n     And sighs and vain repinings passed the hours,\n     Gazing with wet eyes on the barren deep.\"[14]\n\n\nI would remark that, as the poem is too long to be read through\nentirely, and as there are passages in it which should be omitted, it is\nadvisable for the teacher to narrate the story, quoting, however, such\npassages as give point to the narrative or have a special beauty of\ntheir own. Read the description of Calypso's cave v, 73, ff. Penelope\nmeantime is patiently awaiting her husband's return. Read the passages\nwhich describe her great beauty, especially that lovely word-picture in\nwhich she is described as standing by a tall column in the hall, a maid\non either side, a veil hiding her lustrous face, while she addresses the\nsuitors. The noblest princes of Ithaca and the surrounding isles entreat\nher hand in marriage, and, thinking that Ulysses will never return, hold\nhigh revels in his house, and shamelessly consume his wealth. Read the\npassage ii, 116-160, describing Penelope's device to put off the\nsuitors, and at the same time to avert the danger which would have\nthreatened her son in case she had openly broken with the chiefs. The\nlove of Penelope is further set vividly before us by many delicate\ntouches. Every stranger who arrives in Ithaca is hospitably entertained\nby the queen, and loaded with gifts, in the hope that he may bring her\nsome news of her absent lord, and often she is deceived by wretches who\nspeculate on her credulous grief. See the passage xiv, 155. During the\nday she is busy with her household cares, overseeing her maids, and\nseeking to divert her mind by busy occupation; but at night the silence\nand the solitude become intolerable, and she weeps her eyes out on her\nlonely couch. How the love of Penelope influences her boy, who was a\nmere babe when his father left for Troy, how the whole atmosphere of the\nhouse is charged with the sense of expectancy of the master's return, is\nshown in the passage ii, 439, where Telemachus says:\n\n\n     \"Nurse, let sweet wine be drawn into my jars,\n     The finest next to that which thou dost keep,\n     Expecting our unhappy lord, if yet\n     The nobly born Ulysses shall escape\n     The doom of death and come to us again.\"\n\n\nThe best cheer, the finest wine, the best of everything is kept ready\nagainst the father's home-coming, which may be looked for any day, if\nhaply he has escaped the doom of death. There is one passage in which\nwe might suspect that the poet has intended to show the hardening effect\nof grief on Penelope's character, xv, 479. Penelope does not speak to\nher old servants any more; she passes them by without a word, apparently\nwithout seeing them. She does not attend to their wants as she used to\ndo, and they, in turn, do not dare to address her. But we may forgive\nthis seeming indifference inasmuch as it only shows how completely she\nis absorbed by her sorrow.\n\nA companion picture to the love of Ulysses and Penelope is to be found\nin the conjugal relation of Alcinous, king of Phaeacia, and his wife\nArete, as described in the sixth book and the following. This whole\nepisode is incomparably beautiful. Was there ever a more perfect\nembodiment of girlish grace and modesty, coupled with sweetest\nfrankness, than Nausicaa? And what a series of lovely pictures is made\nto pass in quick succession before our eyes as we read the story! First,\nNausicaa, moved by the desire to prepare her wedding garments against\nher unknown lover's coming, not ashamed to acknowledge the motive to her\nown pure heart, but veiling it discreetly before her mother; then the\nband of maidens setting out upon their picnic party, Nausicaa holding\nthe reins; next the washing of the garments, the bath, the game of ball,\nthe sudden appearance of Ulysses, the flight of her companions, the\nbrave girl being left to keep her place alone, with a courage born of\npity for the stranger, and of virtuous womanhood.\n\n\n       \"Alone\n     The daughter of Alcinous kept her place,\n     For Pallas gave her courage and forbade\n     Her limb to tremble. So she waited there.\"\n\n\nWho that has inhaled the fragrance of her presence from these pages can\never forget the white-armed Nausicaa! Then follows the picture of the\npalace, a feast for the imagination, the most magnificent description, I\nthink, in the whole poem.\n\n\n     \"For on every side beneath\n     The lofty roof of that magnanimous king\n     A glory shone as of the summer moons.\"\n\n\nRead from l. 100-128, book vii. Next we witness the splendid hospitality\nproffered to the stranger guest. For again and again in this poem the\nnoble sentiment is repeated, that the stranger and the poor are sent\nfrom Jove. Then we see Ulysses engaged in the games, outdoing the rest,\nor standing aside and watching \"the twinkle of the dancer's feet.\" The\nlanguage, too, used on these occasions is strikingly noble, so courteous\nand well-chosen, so simple and dignified, conveying rich meanings in the\nfewest possible words. What can be finer, e. g., than Nausicaa's\nfarewell to Ulysses?\n\n\n     \"Now, when the maids\n     Had seen him bathed, and had anointed him\n     With oil, and put his sumptuous mantle on,\n     And tunic, forth he issued from the bath,\n     And came to those who sat before their wine.\n     Nausicaa, goddess-like in beauty, stood\n     Beside a pillar of that noble roof,\n     And, looking on Ulysses as he passed,\n     Admired, and said to him in winged words--\n     'Stranger, farewell, and in thy native land\n     Remember thou hast owed thy life to me.'\"\n\n\nNausicaa, it is evident, loves Ulysses; she stands beside a pillar, a\nfavorite attitude for beautiful women with Homer, and as Ulysses passes,\nshe addresses to him those few words so fraught with tenderness and\nrenunciation. Ulysses's own speech to Arete, too, is a model of\nsimplicity and dignity, possessing, it seems to me, something of the\nsame quality which we admire in the speeches of Othello. But throughout\nthis narrative, pre-eminent above all the other figures in it is the\nfigure of the queen herself, of Arete. Such a daughter as Nausicaa could\nonly come from such a mother. To her Ulysses is advised to address his\nsupplication. She is the wise matron, the peace-maker who composes the\nangry feuds of the men. And she possesses the whole heart and devotion\nof her husband.\n\n\n       \"Her Alcinous made his wife\n     And honored her as nowhere else on earth\n     Is any woman honored who bears charge\n     Over a husband's household. From their hearts\n     Her children pay her reverence, and the king\n     And all the people, for they look on her\n     As if she were a goddess. When she goes\n     Abroad into the streets, all welcome her\n     With acclamations. Never does she fail\n     In wise discernment, but decides disputes\n     Kindly and justly between man and man.\n     And if thou gain her favor there is hope\n     That thou mayst see thy friends once more.\"\n\n\nWe have then as illustrations of conjugal fidelity: the main picture,\nUlysses and Penelope; the companion picture, Alcinous and Arete; and, as\na foil to set off both, there looms up every now and then in the course\nof the poem, that unhappy pair, Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, the latter,\nthe type of conjugal infidelity, from which the soul of Homer revolts.\nThis foil is very skillfully used. At the very end of the poem, when\neverything is hastening toward a happy consummation, Ulysses having\nslain the suitors and being about to be reunited with his wife, we are\nintroduced into the world of shades, where the ghost of Agamemnon once\nmore rehearses the story of Clytemnestra's treachery. At that moment the\nspirits of the suitors come flying down to Hades, and the happier\ndestiny of Ulysses is thus brought into clearer relief by contrast.\n\nThe next ethical element of which I have to speak is the _filial\nconduct_ of Telemachus. In him the spirit of adventure has developed\ninto a desire to help his father. In the early part of the poem he\nannounces that he is now a child no longer. He begins to assert\nauthority. And yet in his home he continues to be treated as a child.\nThe suitors laugh at him, his own mother can not bear to think that he\nshould go out into the wide world alone, and the news of his departure\nis accordingly concealed from her. Very fine are the words in which her\nmother's love expresses itself when she discovers his absence:\n\n\n     \"And her knees failed her and her heart\n     Sank as she heard. Long time she could not speak;\n     Her eyes were filled with tears, and her clear voice\n     Was choked; yet, finding words at length, she said:\n     'O herald! wherefore should my son have gone?'\n\n                               \"... Now, my son,\n     My best beloved, goes to sea--a boy\n     Unused to hardship and unskilled to deal\n     With strangers. More I sorrow for his sake\n     Than for his father's. I am filled with fear.\"\n\n\nShe lies outstretched upon the floor of her chamber overcome with grief\n(iv, 910). Telemachus, however, has gone forth in search of his sire. He\nfinds a friend in Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, and the two youths\njoin company on the journey. They come to the court of Menelaus, King of\nSparta. There, as everywhere, Telemachus hears men speak of his great\nfather in terms of the highest admiration and praise, and the desire\nmounts in his soul to do deeds worthy of such a parent. What better\nstimulation can we offer to growing children than this recital of\nTelemachus's development from boyhood into manhood? His reception at the\ncourt of Menelaus affords an opportunity to dwell again upon the\ngenerous and delicate hospitality of the ancient Greeks. First, the\nguest is received at the gates; then conducted to the bath and anointed;\nthen, when he is seated on a silver or perchance a golden throne, a\nhandmaiden advances with a silver ewer and a golden jug to pour water on\nhis hands; then a noble banquet is set out for his delectation; and only\nthen, after all these rites of hospitality have been completed, is\ninquiry made as to his name and his errand. \"The stranger and the poor\nare sent from Jove.\" The stranger and the poor were welcome in the\nGrecian house. Telemachus returns to Ithaca, escapes the ambush which\nthe murderous suitors had set for him, and arrives just in time to help\nhis father in his last desperate struggle. It is he, Telemachus, who\nconveys the weapons from the hall, he who pinions the treacherous\nMelantheus and renders him harmless. He quits himself like a\nman--discreet, able to keep his counsel, and brave and quick in the\nmoment of decisive action.\n\nThe third element which attracts our attention is the resourceful\nintelligence of Ulysses, or his _presence of mind_ amid danger. This is\nexhibited on many occasions; for instance, in the cave of Polyphemus;\nwhere he saves his companions by concealing them in the fleece of the\ngiant's flock, and at the time of the great shipwreck, before he reaches\nPhaeacia. His raft is shattered, and he is plunged into the sea. He\nclings to one of the fragments of the wreck, but from this too is\ndislodged. For two days and nights he struggles in the black, stormy\nwaters. At last he approaches the shore, but is nearly dashed to pieces\non the rocks. He swims again out to sea, until, finding himself opposite\nthe mouth of a river, he strikes out for this and lands in safety.\nPallas Athene has guided him. But Pallas Athene is only another name for\nhis own courage and presence of mind. In the same connection may be\nrelated the story of Ulysses's escape from the Sirens and from the twin\nperils of Scylla and Charybdis. The Sirens, with their bewitching songs,\nseek to lure him and his companions to destruction. But he stops the\nears of his companions with wax so that they can not hear, and causes\nhimself to be bound with stout cords to the mast, so that, though he may\nhear, he can not follow. There is an obvious lesson contained in this\nallegory. When about to be exposed to temptation, if you know that you\nare weak, do not even listen to the seductive voices. But no matter how\nstrong you believe yourself to be, at least give such pledges and place\nyourself in such conditions that you may be prevented from yielding.\nFrom the monster Charybdis, too, Ulysses escapes by extraordinary\npresence of mind and courage. He leaps upward to catch the fig-tree in\nthe moment when his ship disappears beneath him in the whirlpool; then,\nwhen it is cast up again, lets go his hold and is swept out into safe\nwaters.\n\nThe fourth ethical element which we select from the poem is the\n_veneration shown to grandparents_. I have already remarked, in a former\nlecture, that if parents wish to retain the reverence of their children\nthey can not do better than in their turn to show themselves reverent\ntoward their own aged and enfeebled parents. Of such conduct the Odyssey\noffers us a number of choice examples. Thus Achilles, meeting Ulysses in\nthe realm of shades, says that the hardest part of his lot is to think\nof his poor old father, who has no one now to defend him, and who,\nbeing weak, is likely to be neglected and despised. If only he, the\nstrong son, could return to the light of day, how he would protect his\naged parent and insure him the respect due to his gray hairs! Penelope\nis advised to send to Laertes, Telemachus's grandfather, to secure his\naid against the suitors. But with delicate consideration she keeps the\nbad news from him, saying: \"He has enough grief to bear on account of\nthe loss of his son Ulysses; let me not add to his burden.\" Again, how\nbeautiful is the account of the meeting of Laertes and Ulysses after the\nreturn and triumph of the latter. On the farm, at some distance from the\ntown, Ulysses seeks his aged father. Laertes is busy digging. He, a\nking, wears a peasant's rustic garb and lives a life of austere\nself-denial, grieving night and day for his absent son. When Ulysses\nmentions his name, Laertes at first does not believe. Then the hero\napproaches the bent and decrepit old man, and becomes for the moment a\nchild again. He brings up recollections of his earliest boyhood; he\nreminds his father of the garden-patch which he set aside for him long,\nlong ago; of the trees and vines which he gave him to plant; and then\nthe father realizes that the mighty man before him is indeed his son.\n\nThe structural lines of the Odyssey are clearly marked, and can easily\nbe followed. First, we are shown the house of Ulysses bereft of its\nmaster. The noisy crowd of suitors are carousing in the hall; the\ndespairing Penelope weaves her web in an upper chamber; the resolve to\ndo and dare for his father's sake awakens in Telemachus's heart. Next\nUlysses on the way home, dismissed by Calypso, arrives at Phaeacia, from\nwhich port without further misadventures he reaches Ithaca. The stay in\nthe palace of the Phaeacian king gives an opportunity for a rehearsal of\nthe previous sufferings and adventures of the hero. Then follow the\npreparations for the conflict with the suitors; the appearance of\nUlysses in his own palace in the guise of a beggar; the insults and\nblows which he receives at the hands of his rivals and their menials;\nthe bloody fight, etc. In relating the story I should follow the course\nof the poem, laying stress upon the ethical elements enumerated above.\nThe fight which took place in the palace halls with closed doors should\nbe merely mentioned, its bloody details omitted. The hanging of the\nmaidens, the trick of Vulcan related in a previous book, and other minor\nepisodes, which the teacher will distinguish without difficulty, should\nlikewise be passed over. The recognition scenes are managed with\nwonderful skill. The successive recognitions seem to take place\ninversely in the order of previous connection and intimacy with Ulysses.\nThe son, who was a mere babe when his father left and did not know him\nat all, recognizes him first. This, moreover, is necessary in order that\nhis aid may be secured for the coming struggle. Next comes Argus, the\ndog.\n\n\n     \"While over Argus the black night of death\n     Came suddenly as he had seen\n     Ulysses, absent now for twenty years.\"\n\n\nNext comes the nurse Eurycleia, who recognizes him by a scar inflicted\nby the white tusk of a boar whom he hunted on Parnassus's heights; then\nhis faithful followers; last of all, and slowly and with difficulty, the\nwife who had so yearned for him. Her impetuous son could not understand\nher tardiness. Vehemently he chid her: \"Mother, unfeeling mother, how\ncanst thou remain aloof, how keep from taking at my father's side thy\nplace to talk with him and question him? Mother, thy heart is harder\nthan a stone.\" But she only sat opposite to Ulysses and gazed and gazed\nand wondered. Ulysses himself, at last, in despair at her impenetrable\nsilence, exclaimed, \"An iron heart is hers.\" But it was only that she\ncould not believe. It seemed so incredible to her that the long waiting\nshould be over; that the desire of her heart should really be fulfilled;\nthat this man before her should be indeed the husband, the long-lost\nhusband, and not a mocking dream. But when at last it dawned upon her,\nwhen he gave her the token of the mystery known only to him and to her,\nthen indeed the ice of incredulity melted from her heart, and her knees\nfaltered and the tears streamed from her eyes, \"and she rose and ran to\nhim and flung her arm about his neck and kissed his brow, and he, too,\nwept as in his arms he held his dearly loved and faithful wife.\" \"As\nwelcome as the land to those who swim the deep, tossed by the billow\nand the blast, and few are those who from the hoary ocean reach the\nshore, their limbs all crested with the brine, these gladly climb the\nsea-beach and are safe--so welcome was her husband to her eyes, nor\nwould her fair white arms release his neck.\"\n\nAnd so with the words uttered by the shade of Agamemnon we may fitly\nclose this retrospect of the poem:\n\n\n     \"Son of Laertes, fortunate and wise,\n     Ulysses! thou by feats of eminent might\n     And valor dost possess thy wife again.\n     And nobly minded is thy blameless queen,\n     The daughter of Icarius, faithfully\n     Remembering him to whom she gave her troth\n     While yet a virgin. Never shall the fame\n     Of his great valor perish, and the gods\n     Themselves shall frame, for those who dwell on earth,\n     Sweet strains in praise of sage Penelope.\"\n\n\nWell might the rhapsodes in the olden days, clad in embroidered robes,\nwith golden wreaths about their brows, recite such verses as these to\nthe assembled thousands and ten thousands. Well might the Hellenic race\ntreasure these records of filial loyalty, of maiden purity, of wifely\ntenderness and fidelity, of bravery, and of intelligence. And well may\nwe, too, desire that this golden stream flowing down to us from ancient\nGreece shall enter the current of our children's lives to broaden and\nenrich them.\n\nI have not space at my command to attempt a minute analysis of the\nIliad, and shall content myself with mentioning the main significant\npoints. The Iliad is full of the noises of war, the hurtling of arrows,\nthe flashing of swords, the sounding of spears on metal shields, the\ngroans of the dying, \"whose eyes black darkness covers.\" The chief\nvirtues illustrated are valor, hospitality, conjugal affection, respect\nfor the aged. I offer the following suggestions to the teacher. After\ndescribing the wrath of Achilles, relate the meeting of Diomedes and\nGlaucus, their hostile encounter, and their magnanimous embrace on\ndiscovering that they are great friends. Read the beautiful passage\nbeginning with the words, \"Even as the generations of leaves, such are\nthose likewise of men.\" Dwell on the parting of Hector and Andromache.\nNote that she has lost her father, her lady mother, and her seven\nbrothers. Hector is to her father, mother, brother, and husband, all in\none. Note also Hector's prayer for his son that the latter may excel him\nin bravery. As illustrative of friendship, tell the story of Achilles's\ngrief for Patroclus, how he lies prone upon the ground, strewing his\nhead with dust; how he follows the body lamenting; how he declares that\nthough the dead forget their dead in Hades, even there he would not\nforget his dear comrade. Next tell of the slaying of Hector, and how\nAchilles honors the suppliant Priam and restores to him the body of his\nson. It is the memory of his own aged father, which the sight of Priam\nrecalls, that melts Achilles's heart, and they weep together, each for\nhis own dead. Finally, note the tribute paid to Hector's delicate\nchivalry in the lament of Helen.[15]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[13] See Jebb's Introduction to Homer.\n\n[14] The quotations are taken from Bryant's translation of the Odyssey.\n\n[15] In connection with the Homeric poems selections from Greek\nmythology may be used, such as the story of Hercules, of Theseus, of\nPerseus, the story of the Argonauts, and others. These, too, breathe the\nspirit of adventure and illustrate the virtues of courage, perseverance\namid difficulties, chivalry, etc.\n\n\n\n\nGRAMMAR COURSE.\n\nLESSONS ON DUTY.\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nTHE DUTY OF ACQUIRING KNOWLEDGE.\n\n\nIn setting out on a new path it is well to determine beforehand the goal\nwe hope to reach. We are about to begin the discussion of the grammar\ncourse, which is intended for children between twelve and fifteen years\nof age, and accordingly ask: What result can we expect to attain? One\nthing is certain, we must continue to grade our teaching, to adapt each\nsuccessive step to the capacities of the pupils, to keep pace with their\nmental development.\n\nThe due gradation of moral teaching is all-important. Whether the\ngradations we propose are correct is, of course, a matter for\ndiscussion; but, at all events, a point will be gained if we shall have\nbrought home forcibly to teachers the necessity of a graded, of a\nprogressive system.\n\nIn the primary course we have set before the pupils examples of good and\nbad conduct, with a view to training their powers of moral perception.\nWe are now ready to advance from percepts to concepts. We have\nendeavored to cultivate the faculty of observation, we can now attempt\nthe higher task of generalization. In the primary course we have tried\nto make the pupils perceive moral distinctions; in the grammar course we\nshall try to make them reason about moral distinctions, help them to\ngain notions of duty, to arrive at principles or maxims of good conduct.\nThe grammar course, therefore, will consist in the main of lessons on\nduty.\n\nWhat has just been said, however, requires further explanation to\nprevent misapprehension. I have remarked that the pupil is now to reach\nout toward concepts of duty, and to establish for himself maxims or\nprinciples of conduct. But of what nature shall these maxims be? The\nphilosopher Kant has proposed the following maxim: \"So act that the\nmaxim underlying thy action may justify itself to thy mind as a\nuniversal law of conduct.\" According to him, the note of universality is\nthe distinctive characteristic of all ethical conduct. The school of\nBentham proposes a different maxim: \"So act that the result of thy\naction shall tend to insure the greatest happiness of the greatest\nnumber.\" Theologians tell us so to act that our will may harmonize with\nthe will of God. But pupils of the grammar grade are not ripe to\nunderstand such metaphysical and theological propositions. And,\nmoreover, as was pointed out in our first lecture, it would be a grave\ninjustice to teach in schools supported by all ethical first principles\nwhich are accepted only by some. We are not concerned with first\nprinciples. We exclude the discussion of them, be they philosophical or\ntheological, from the school. But there are certain secondary\nprinciples, certain more concrete rules of behavior, which nevertheless\npossess the character of generalizations, and these will suffice for\nour purpose. And with respect to these there is really no difference of\nopinion among the different schools and sects, and on them as a\nfoundation we can build.\n\nIt is our business to discover such secondary principles, and in our\ninstruction to lead the pupil to the recognition of them. The nature of\nthe formulas of duty which we have in mind--formulas which shall express\nthe generalized moral experience of civilized mankind, will appear more\nplainly if we examine the processes by which we arrive at them. An\nexample will best elucidate: Suppose that I am asked to give a lesson on\nthe duty of truthfulness. At the stage which we have now reached it will\nnot be enough merely to emphasize the general commandment against lying.\nThe general commandment leaves in the pupil's mind a multitude of doubts\nunsolved. Shall I always tell the truth--that is to say, the whole\ntruth, as I know it, and to everybody? Is it never right to withhold the\ntruth, or even to say what is the contrary of true, as, e. g., to the\nsick or insane. Such questions as these are constantly being asked. What\nis needed is a rule of veracity which shall leave the general principle\nof truth-speaking unshaken, and shall yet cover all these exceptional\ncases. How to arrive at such a rule? I should go about it in the\nfollowing manner, and the method here described is the one which is\nintended to be followed throughout the entire course of lessons on duty.\nI should begin by presenting a concrete case. A certain child had broken\na precious vase. When asked whether it had done so, it answered, \"No.\"\nHow do you characterize such a statement? As a falsehood. The active\nparticipation of the pupils in the discussion is essential. Properly\nquestioned, they will join in it heart and soul. There must be constant\ngive and take between teacher and class. Upon the fulfillment of this\ncondition the value of this sort of teaching entirely depends. The\nteacher then proceeds to analyze the instance above given, or any other\nthat he may select from those which the pupils offer him. The child says\nno when it should have said yes, or a person says black when he should\nhave said white. In what does the falsehood of such statements consist?\nIn the circumstance that the words spoken do not correspond to the\nfacts. Shall we then formulate the rule of veracity as follows: Make thy\nwords correspond to the facts; and shall we infer that any one whose\nwords do not correspond to the facts is a liar? But clearly this is not\nso. The class is asked to give instances tending to prove the\ninsufficiency of the proposed formula. Before the days of Copernicus it\nwas generally asserted that the sun revolves around the earth. Should we\nbe justified in setting down the many excellent persons who made such\nstatements as liars? Yet their words did not correspond to the facts.\nVery true; but they did not intend to deviate from the facts--they did\nnot know better. Shall we then change the formula so as to read: Intend\nthat thy words shall conform to the facts? But the phrase \"correspond to\nthe facts\" needs to be made more explicit. Cases occur in which a\nstatement does correspond to the facts, or, at least, seems to do so,\nand yet a contemptible falsehood is implied. The instance of the truant\nboy is in point who entered the school-building five minutes before the\nclose of the exercises, and on being asked at home whether he had been\nat school, promptly answered \"Yes\"; and so he had been for five minutes.\nBut in this case the boy suppressed a part of the facts--and, moreover,\nthe essential part--namely, that he had been absent from school for five\nhours and fifty-five minutes. Cases of mental reservation and the like\nfall under the same condemnation. The person who took an oath in court,\nusing the words, \"As truly as I stand on this stone,\" but who had\npreviously filled his shoes with earth, suppressed the essential\nfact--viz., that he had filled his shoes with earth.\n\nShall we then formulate the rule in this wise: Intend to make thy words\ncorrespond to the essential facts? But even this will not entirely\nsatisfy. For there are cases, surely, in which we deliberately frame our\nwords in such a way that they shall not correspond to the essential\nfacts--for instance, if we should meet a murderer who should ask us in\nwhich direction his intended victim had fled, or in the case of an\ninsane person intent on suicide, or of the sick in extreme danger, whom\nthe communication of bad news would kill. How can we justify such a\nprocedure? We can justify it on the ground that language as a means of\ncommunication is intended to further the rational purposes of human\nlife, and not conversely are the rational purposes of life to be\nsacrificed to any merely formal principle of truth-telling. A person\nwho, like the murderer, is about to use the fact conveyed to him by my\nwords as a weapon with which to kill a fellow-being has no right to be\nput in possession of the fact. An insane person, who can not use the\ntruthful communications of others except for irrational ends, is also\noutside the pale of those to whom such tools can properly be intrusted.\nAnd so are the sick, when so enfeebled that the shock of grief would\ndestroy them. For the rational use of grief is to provoke in us a moral\nreaction, to rouse in us the strength to bear our heavy burdens, and, in\nbearing, to learn invaluable moral lessons. But those who are physically\ntoo weak to rally from the first shock of grief are unable to secure\nthis result, and they must therefore be classed, for the time being, as\npersons not in a condition to make rational use of the facts of life. It\nis not from pain and suffering that we are permitted to shield them.\nPain and suffering we must be willing both to endure and also to inflict\nupon those whom we love best, if necessary. Reason can and should\ntriumph over pain. But when the reasoning faculty is impaired, or when\nthe body is too weak to respond to the call of reason, the obligation of\ntruth-_telling_ ceases. I am not unaware that this is a dangerous\ndoctrine to teach. I should always take the greatest pains to impress\nupon my pupils that the irrational condition, which alone justifies the\nwithholding of the truth, must be so obvious that there can be no\nmistake about it, as in the case of the murderer who, with knife in\nhand, pursues his victim, or of the insane, or of the sick, in regard to\nwhom the physician positively declares that the shock of bad news would\nendanger life. But I do think that we are bound to face these\nexceptional cases, and to discuss them with our pupils. For the latter\nknow as well as we that in certain exceptional situations the best men\ndo not tell the truth, that in such situations no one tells the truth,\nexcept he be a moral fanatic. And unless these exceptional cases are\nclearly marked off and explained and justified, the general authority of\ntruth will be shaken, or at least the obligation of veracity will become\nvery much confused in the pupil's mind. In my opinion, the confusion\nwhich does exist on this subject is largely due to a failure to\ndistinguish between inward truthfulness and truthfulness as reflected in\nspeech. The law of inward truthfulness tolerates no exceptions. We\nshould always, and as far as possible, be absolutely truthful, in our\nthinking, in our estimates, in our judgments. But language is a mere\nvehicle for the communication of thoughts and facts to others, and in\ncommunicating thoughts and facts we _are_ bound to consider in how far\nothers are fit to receive them. Shall we then formulate the rule of\nveracity thus: Intend to communicate the essential facts to those who\nare capable of making a rational use of them. I think that some such\nformula as this might answer. I am not disposed to stickle for this\nparticular phraseology. But the formula as stated illustrates my\nthought, and also the method by which the formulas, which we shall have\nto teach in the grammar course are to be reached. It is the inductive\nmethod. First a concrete case is presented, and a rule of conduct is\nhypothetically suggested, which fits this particular case. Then other\ncases are adduced. It is discovered that the rule as it stands thus far\ndoes not fit them. It must therefore be modified, expanded. Then, in\nsuccession, other and more complex cases, to which the rule may possibly\napply are brought forward, until every case we can think of has been\nexamined; and when the rule is brought into such shape that it fits them\nall, we have a genuine moral maxim, a safe rule for practical guidance,\nand the principle involved in the rule is one of those secondary\nprinciples in respect to which men of every sect and school can agree.\nIt needs hardly to be pointed out how much a casuistical discussion of\nthis sort tends to stimulate interest in moral problems, and to quicken\nthe moral judgment. I can say, from an experience of over a dozen years,\nthat pupils between twelve and fifteen years of age are immensely\ninterested in such discussions, and are capable of making the subtilest\ndistinctions. Indeed, the directness with which they pronounce their\nverdict on fine questions of right and wrong often has in it something\nalmost startling to older persons, whose contact with the world has\nreconciled them to a somewhat less exacting standard.\n\nBut here a caution is necessary. Some children seem to be too fond of\ncasuistry. They take an intellectual pleasure in drawing fine\ndistinctions, and questions of conscience are apt to become to them mere\nmatter of mental gymnastics. Such a tendency must be sternly repressed\nwhenever it shows itself. In fact, reasoning about moral principles is\nalways attended with a certain peril. After all, the actual morality of\nthe world depends largely on the moral habits which mankind have formed\nin the course of many ages, and which are transmitted from generation to\ngeneration. Now a habit acts a good deal like an instinct. Its force\ndepends upon what has been called unconscious cerebration. As soon as we\nstop to reason about our habits, their hold on us is weakened, we\nhesitate, we become uncertain, the interference of the mind acts like a\nbrake. It is for this reason that throughout the primary course, we have\nconfined ourselves to what the Germans call _Anschauung_, the close\nobservation of examples with a view of provoking imitation or\nrepugnance, and thus strengthening the force of habit. Why, then,\nintroduce analysis now, it may be asked. Why not be content with still\nfurther confirming the force of good habits? My answer is that the force\nof habit must be conserved and still further strengthened, but that\nanalysis, too, becomes necessary at this stage. And why? Because habits\nare always specialized. A person governed by habits falls into a certain\nroutine, and moves along easily and safely as long as the conditions\nrepeat themselves to which his habits are adjusted. But when confronted\nby a totally new set of conditions, he is often quite lost and helpless.\nJust as a person who is solely guided by common sense in the ordinary\naffairs of life, is apt to be stranded when compelled to face\ncircumstances for which his previous experience affords no precedent. It\nis necessary, therefore, to extract from the moral habits the latent\nrules of conduct which underlie them, and to state these in a general\nform which the mind can grasp and retain, and which it will be able to\napply to new conditions as they arise. To this end analysis and the\nformulation of rules are indispensable. But in order, at the same time,\nnot to break the force of habit, the teacher should proceed in the\nfollowing manner: He should always take the moral habit for granted. He\nshould never give his pupils to understand that he and they are about to\nexamine whether, for instance, it is wrong or not wrong to lie. The\ncommandment against lying is assumed, and its obligation acknowledged at\nthe outset. The only object of the analysis is to discern more exactly\nwhat is meant by lying, to define the rule of veracity with greater\nprecision and circumspectness, so that we may be enabled to fulfill the\ncommandment more perfectly. It is implied in what I have said that the\nteacher should not treat of moral problems as if he were dealing with\nproblems in arithmetic. The best thing he can do for his pupils--better\nthan any particular lesson he can teach--will be to communicate to them\nthe spirit of moral earnestness. And this spirit he can not communicate\nunless he be full of it himself. The teacher should consecrate himself\nto his task; he should be penetrated by a sense of the lofty character\nof the subject which he teaches. Even a certain attention to externals\nis not superfluous. The lessons, in the case of the younger children,\nmay be accompanied by song; the room in which the classes meet may be\nhung with appropriate pictures, and especially is it desirable that the\nfaces of great and good men and women shall look down upon the pupils\nfrom the walls. The instruction should be given by word of mouth; for\nthe right text-books do not yet exist, and even the best books must\nalways act as a bar to check that flow of moral influence which should\ncome from the teacher to quicken the class. To make sure that the pupils\nunderstand what they have been taught, they should be required from time\nto time to reproduce the subject matter of the lessons in their own\nlanguage, and using their own illustrations, in the form of essays.\n\nAnd now, after this general introduction, let us take up the lessons on\nthe duties in their proper order. What is the proper order? This\nquestion, you will remember, was discussed in the lecture on the\nclassification of duties. It was there stated that the life of man from\nchildhood upward, may be divided into periods, that each period has its\nspecial duties, and that there is in each some one central duty around\nwhich the others may be grouped. During the school age the paramount\nduty of the pupil is to study. We shall therefore begin with the duties\nwhich are connected with the pursuit of knowledge. We shall then take up\nthe duties which relate to the physical life and the feelings; next, the\nduties which arise in the family; after that the duties which we owe to\nall men; and lastly we will consider in an elementary way the civic\nduties.\n\n_The Duty of acquiring Knowledge._--In starting the discussion of any\nparticular set of duties, it is advisable, as has been said, to present\nsome concrete case, and biographical or historical examples are\nparticularly useful. I have sometimes begun the lesson on the duty of\nacquiring knowledge by telling the story of Cleanthes and that of\nHillel. Cleanthes, a poor boy, was anxious to attend the school of Zeno.\nBut he was compelled to work for his bread, and could not spend his days\nin study as he longed to do. He was, however, so eager to learn that he\nfound a way of doing his work by night. He helped a gardener to water\nhis plants, and also engaged to grind corn on a hand-mill for a certain\nwoman. Now the neighbors, who knew that he was poor, and who never saw\nhim go to work, were puzzled to think how he obtained the means to live.\nThey suspected him of stealing, and he was called before the Judge to\nexplain. The Judge addressed him severely, and commanded him to tell the\ntruth. Cleanthes requested that the gardener and the woman might be sent\nfor, and they testified that he had been in the habit of working for\nthem by night. The Judge was touched by his great zeal for knowledge,\nacquitted him of the charge, and offered him a gift of money. But Zeno\nwould not permit him to take the gift. Cleanthes became the best pupil\nof Zeno, and grew up to be a very wise and learned man, indeed one of\nthe most famous philosophers of the Stoic school. The story of Hillel\nruns as follows: There was once a poor lad named Hillel. His parents\nwere dead, and he had neither relatives nor friends. He was anxious to\ngo to school, but, though he worked hard, he did not earn enough to pay\nthe tuition fee exacted at the door. So he decided to save money by\nspending only half his earnings for food. He ate little, and that little\nwas of poor quality, but he was perfectly happy, because with what he\nlaid aside he could now pay the door-keeper and find a place inside,\nwhere he might listen and learn. This he did for some time, but one day\nhe was so unlucky as to lose his situation. He had now no money left to\nbuy bread, but he hardly thought of that, so much was he grieved at the\nthought that he should never get back to his beloved school. He begged\nthe door-keeper to let him in, but the surly man refused to do so. In\nhis despair a happy thought occurred to him. He had noticed a skylight\non the roof. He climbed up to this, and to his delight found that\nthrough a crack he could hear all that was said inside. So he sat there\nand listened, and did not notice that evening was coming on, and that\nthe snow was beginning to fall. Next morning when the teachers and\npupils assembled as usual, every one remarked how dark the room seemed.\nThe sun too was shining again by this time quite brightly outside.\nSuddenly some one happened to look up and with an exclamation of\nsurprise pointed out the figure of a boy against the skylight. Quickly\nthey all ran outside, climbed to the roof, and there, covered with snow,\nquite stiff and almost dead, they found poor Hillel. They carried him\nindoors, warmed his cold limbs, and worked hard to restore him to life.\nHe was at last resuscitated, and from this time on was allowed to attend\nthe school without paying. Later he became a great teacher. He lived in\nPalestine at about the time of Jesus. He was admired for his learning,\nbut even more for his good deeds and his unfailing kindness to every\none. The question is now raised, Why did Cleanthes work at night instead\nof seeking rest, and why did Hillel remain outside in the bitter cold\nand snow? The pupils will readily answer, Because they loved knowledge.\nBut why is knowledge so desirable? With this interrogatory we are fairly\nlaunched on the discussion of our subject. The points to be developed\nare these:\n\nFirst, knowledge is indispensable as a means of making one's way in the\nworld. Show the helplessness of the ignorant. Compare the skilled\nlaborer with the unskilled. Give instances of merchants, statesmen,\netc., whose success was due to steady application and superior\nknowledge. Knowledge is power (namely, in the struggle for existence).\n\nSecondly, knowledge is honor. An ignorant person is despised. Knowledge\nwins us the esteem of our fellow-men.\n\nThirdly, knowledge is joy in a twofold sense. As the perception of light\nto the eye of the body, so is the perception of truth to the eye of the\nmind. The mind experiences an intrinsic pleasure in seeing things in\ntheir true relations. Furthermore, mental growth is accompanied by the\njoy of successful effort. This can be explained even to a boy or girl of\nthirteen. Have you ever tried hard to solve a problem in algebra?\nPerhaps you have spent several hours over it. It has baffled you. At\nlast, after repeated trials, you see your way clear, the solution is\nwithin your grasp. What a sense of satisfaction you experience then. It\nis the feeling of successful mental effort that gives you this\nsatisfaction. You rejoice in having triumphed over difficulties, and the\ngreater the difficulty, the more baffling and complex the problems, the\ngreater is the satisfaction in solving them.\n\nFourthly, knowledge enables us to do good to others. Speak of the use\nwhich physicians make of their scientific training to alleviate\nsuffering and save life. Refer to the manifold applications of science\nwhich have changed the face of modern society, and have contributed so\nlargely to the moral progress of the world. Point out that all true\nphilanthropy, every great social reform, implies a superior grasp of the\nproblems to be solved, as well as devotion to the cause of humanity. In\naccordance with the line of argument just sketched the rule for the\npursuit of knowledge may be successively expanded as follows:\n\nSeek knowledge that you may succeed in the struggle for existence.\n\nSeek knowledge that you may gain the esteem of your fellow-men.\n\nSeek knowledge for the sake of the satisfaction which the attainment of\nit will give you.\n\nSeek knowledge that you may be able to do good to others.\n\nThese points suffice for the present. In the advanced course we shall\nreturn to the consideration of the intellectual duties. I would also\nrecommend that the moral teacher, not content with dwelling on the uses\nof knowledge in general, should go through the list of subjects which\nare commonly taught in school, such as geography, history, language,\netc., and explain the value of each. This is too commonly neglected.\n\nHaving stationed the duty of acquiring knowledge in the center, connect\nwith it the various lesser duties of school life, such as punctual\nattendance, order, diligent and conscientious preparation of home\nlessons, etc. These are means to an end, and should be represented as\nsuch. He who desires the end will desire the means. Get your pupils to\nlove knowledge, and the practice of these minor virtues will follow of\nitself. Other matters might be introduced in connection with what has\nbeen mentioned, but enough has been said to indicate the point of view\nfrom which the whole subject of intellectual duty should, as I think, be\ntreated in the present course.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nDUTIES WHICH RELATE TO THE PHYSICAL LIFE.\n\n\nOf the duties which relate to the physical life, the principal one is\nthat of self-preservation, and this involves the prohibition of suicide.\nWhen one reflects on the abject life which many persons are forced to\nlead, on their poverty in the things which make existence desirable and\nthe lack of moral stamina which often goes together with such\nconditions, the wonder is that the number of suicides is not much\ngreater than it actually is. It is true most people cling to life\ninstinctively, and have an instinctive horror of death. Nevertheless,\nthe force of instinct is by no means a sufficient deterrent in all\ncases, and the number of suicides is just now alarmingly on the\nincrease. If we were here considering the subject of suicide in general\nwe should have to enter at large into the causes of this increase; we\nshould have to examine the relations subsisting between the increase of\nsuicide and the increase of divorce, and inquire into those pathological\nconditions of modern society of which both are the symptoms; but our\nbusiness is to consider the ethics of the matter, not the causes. The\nethics of suicide resolves itself into the question, Is it justifiable\nunder any circumstances to take one's life? You may object that this is\nnot a fit subject to discuss with pupils of thirteen or fourteen. Why\nnot? They are old enough to understand the motives which ordinarily lead\nto suicide, and also the reasons which forbid it--especially the most\nimportant reason, namely, that we live not merely or primarily to be\nhappy, but to help on as far as we can the progress of things, and\ntherefore that we are not at liberty to throw life away like an empty\nshell when we have ceased to enjoy it. The discussion of suicide is\nindeed of the greatest use because it affords an opportunity early in\nthe course of our lessons on duty to impress this cardinal truth, to\ndescribe upon the moral globe this great meridian from which all the\nvirtues take their bearings. However, in accordance with the inductive\nmethod, we must approach this idea by degrees. The first position I\nshould take is that while suffering is often temporary, suicide is\nfinal. It is folly to take precipitately a step which can not be\nrecalled. Very often in moments of deep depression the future before us\nseems utterly dark, and in our firmament there appears not one star of\nhope; but presently from some wholly unexpected quarter help comes.\nFortune once more takes us into her good graces, and we are scarcely\nable to understand our past downheartedness in view of the new happiness\nto which we have fallen heirs. Preserve thy life in view of the brighter\nchances which the future may have in store. This is a good rule as far\nas it goes, but it does not fit the more trying situations. For there\nare cases where the fall from the heights of happiness is as complete as\nit is sudden, and the hope of recovering lost ground is really shut out.\n\nTake from actual life the case of a husband who fairly idolized his\nyoung wife and lost her by death three months after marriage. We may\nsuppose that in the course of years he will learn to submit to his\ndestiny. We may even hope that peace will come back to his poor heart,\nbut we can not imagine that he will ever again be happy. Another case is\nthat of a person who has committed a great wrong, the consequences of\nwhich are irreparable, and of which he must carry the agonizing\nrecollection with him to the grave. Time may assuage the pangs of\nremorse, and religion may comfort him, but happiness can never be the\nportion of such as he.\n\nStill another instance--less serious, but of more frequent\noccurrence--is that of a merchant who has always occupied a commanding\nposition in the mercantile community, and who, already advanced in\nyears, is suddenly compelled to face bankruptcy. The thought of the\nhardships to which his family will be exposed, of his impending\ndisgrace, drives him nearly to distraction. The question is, would the\nmerchant, would those others, be justified in committing suicide?\nCertainly not. The merchant, if he has the stuff of true manhood in him,\nwill begin over again, at the bottom of the ladder if need be, will work\nto support his family, however narrowly. It would be the rankest\nselfishness in him to leave them to their fate. The conscience-stricken\nsinner must be willing to pay the penalty of his crime, to the end that\nhe may be purified even seven times in the fire of repentance. And even\nthe lover who has lost his bride will find, if he opens his eyes, that\nthere is still work for him to do in life. The world is full of evils\nwhich require to be removed, full of burdens which require to be borne.\nIf our own burden seems too heavy for us, there is a way of lightening\nit. We may add to it the burden of some one else, and ours will become\nlighter. Physically, this would be impossible, but morally it is true.\nThe rule of conduct, therefore, thus far reads, Preserve thy life in\norder to perform thy share of the work of the world. But the formula,\neven in this shape, is not yet entirely adequate, for there are those\nwho can not take part in the work of the world, who can only\nsuffer--invalids, e. g., who are permanently incapacitated, and whose\ninfirmities make them a constant drag on the healthy lives of their\nfriends. Why should not these be permitted to put an end to their\nmiseries? I should say that so long as there is the slightest hope of\nrecovery, and even where this hope is wanting, so long as the physical\npain is not so intense or so protracted as to paralyze the mental life\naltogether, they should hold out. They are not cut off from the true\nends of human existence. By patient endurance, by the exercise of a\nsublime unselfishness, they may even attain on their sick-beds a height\nof spiritual development which would otherwise be impossible; and, in\naddition, they may become by their uncomplaining patience the sweetest,\ngentlest helpers of their friends, not useless, assuredly, but shining\nexamples of what is best and noblest in human nature. The rule,\ntherefore, should read: Preserve thy life in order to fulfill the duties\nof life, whether those duties consist in doing or in patiently\nsuffering. As has been said long ago, we are placed on guard as\nsentinels. The sentinel must not desert his post. I think it possible to\nmake the pupil in the grammar grade understand that suicide is selfish,\nthat we are bound to live, even though life has ceased to be attractive,\nin order that we may perform our share of the world's work and help\nothers and grow ourselves in moral stature. This does not, of course,\nimply any condemnation of that vast number of cases in which suicide is\ncommitted in consequence of mental aberration.\n\nIn the advanced course we shall have to return to this subject, and\nshall there refer _in extenso_ to the views of the Stoics. The morality\nof the Stoic philosophers in general is so high, and their influence\neven to this day so great, that their defense, or rather enthusiastic\npraise of suicide,[16] needs to be carefully examined. I am of the\nopinion that we have here a case in which metaphysical speculation has\nhad the effect of distorting morality. Metaphysics in this respect\nresembles religion. On the one hand the influence of religion on\nmorality has been highly beneficial, on the other it has been hurtful in\nthe extreme--instance human sacrifices, religious wars, the\nInquisition, etc. In like manner, philosophy, though not to the same\nextent, has both aided morality and injured it. I regard the Stoic\ndeclamations on suicide as an instance of the latter sort. The Stoic\nphilosophy was pantheistic. To live according to Nature was their\nprincipal maxim, or, more precisely, according to the reason in Nature.\nThey maintained that in certain circumstances a man might find it\nimpossible to live up to the rational standard; he might, for instance,\ndiscover himself to be morally so weak as to be unable to resist\ntemptation, and in that case it would be better for him to retire from\nthe scene and to seek shelter in the Eternal Reason, just as, to use\ntheir own simile, one who found the room in which he sat filled to an\nintolerable degree with smoke would not be blamed for withdrawing from\nit. It was their pantheism that led them to favor suicide, and in this\nrespect it is my belief that the modern conscience, trained by the Old\nand New Testaments, has risen to a higher level than theirs. We moderns\nfeel it impossible to admit that to the sane mind temptation can ever be\nso strong as to be truly irresistible. We always can resist if we will.\nWe can, because we ought; as Kant has taught us to put it. We always can\nbecause we always ought.\n\n\n     NOTE.--Despite the rigorous disallowance of suicide in general\n     plainly indicated in the above, I should not wish to be understood\n     as saying that there are no circumstances whatever in which the\n     taking of one's life is permissible. In certain rare and\n     exceptional cases I believe it to be so. In the lecture as\n     delivered I attempted a brief description of these exceptional\n     cases, too brief, it appeared, to prevent most serious\n     misconception. I deem it best, therefore, to defer the expression\n     of my views on this delicate matter until an occasion arrives when\n     I shall be able to articulate my thought in full detail, such as\n     would here be impossible.\n\n\nFrom the commandment \"Preserve thy life\" it follows not only that we\nshould not lay violent hands upon ourselves, but that we should do all\nin our power to develop and invigorate the body, in order that it may\nbecome an efficient instrument in the service of our higher aims. The\nteacher should inform himself on the subject of the gymnastic ideal of\nthe Greeks and consider in how far this ideal is applicable to modern\nconditions. In general, the teacher should explore as fully as possible\nthe ethical problems on which he touches. He should not be merely \"one\nlesson ahead\" of his pupils. Really it is necessary to grasp the whole\nof a subject before we can properly set forth its elements. A very\nthorough normal training is indispensable to those who would give moral\ninstruction to the young.\n\nThe duties of cleanliness and temperance fall under the same head as the\nabove. In speaking of cleanliness, there are three motives--the\negoistic, the aesthetic, and the moral--to which we may appeal. Be\nscrupulously clean for the sake of health, be clean lest you become an\nobject of disgust to others, be clean in order to retain your\nself-respect. Special emphasis should be laid on secret cleanliness.\nIndolent children are sometimes neat in externals, but shockingly\ncareless in what is concealed from view. The motive of self-respect\nshows itself particularly in secret cleanliness.\n\nThe duty of temperance is supported by the same three motives.\nIntemperance undermines health, the glutton or the drunkard awakens\ndisgust, intemperance destroys self-respect. To strengthen the\nrepugnance of the pupils against intemperance in eating, contrast the\nway in which wild beasts eat with that in which human beings partake of\ntheir food. The beast is absorbed in the gratification of its appetite,\neats without the use of implements, eats unsocially. The human way of\neating is in each particular the opposite. Show especially that the act\nof eating is spiritualized by being made subservient to friendly\nintercourse and to the strengthening of the ties of domestic affection.\nThe family table becomes the family altar. Call attention also to the\neffects of drunkenness; point out the injuries which the drunkard\ninflicts on wife and children by his neglect to provide for them, by the\noutbursts of violence to which he is subject under the influence of\nstrong drink; describe his physical, mental, and moral degradation; lay\nstress on the fact that liquor deprives him of the use of his reason.\nWith respect to temperance in food, there are one or two points to be\nnoted. I say to my pupils if you are particularly fond of a certain\ndish, sweetmeats, for instance, make it a rule to partake less of that\nthan if you were not so fond of it. This is good practice in\nself-restraint. I make out as strong a case as possible against the\nindulgence of the candy habit. Young people are not, as a rule, tempted\nto indulge in strong drink; but they are tempted to waste their money\nand injure their health by an excessive consumption of sweets. It is\nwell to apply the lesson of temperance to the things in which they are\ntempted. For the teacher the following note may be added: Of the senses,\nsome, like that of taste, are more nearly allied to the physical part of\nus; others, like sight and hearing, to our rational nature. This\nantithesis of the senses may be used in the interest of temperance.\nAppeal to the higher senses in order to subdue the lower. A band of\nkindergarten children, having been invited on a picnic, were given the\nchoice between a second plate of ice cream, for which many of them were\nclamoring, and a bunch of flowers for each. Most of them were\nsufficiently interested in flowers to prefer the latter. In the case of\nyoung children, the force of the physical appetite may also be weakened\nby appealing to their affection. During the later stage of adolescence,\nwhen the dangers which arise from the awakening life of the senses\nbecome great and imminent, the attention should be directed to high\nintellectual aims, the social feelings should be cultivated, and a taste\nfor the pleasures of the senses of sight and hearing--namely, the\npleasures of music, painting, sculpture, etc.--should be carefully\ndeveloped. Artistic, intellectual, and social motives should be brought\ninto play jointly to meet the one great peril of this period of life.\n\n\nDUTIES WHICH RELATE TO THE FEELINGS.\n\nUnder this head let me speak first of fear. There is a distinction to be\ndrawn between physical and moral cowardice. Physical cowardice is a\nmatter of temperament or organization. Perhaps it can hardly ever be\nentirely overcome, but the exhibition of it can be prevented by moral\ncourage. Moral cowardice, on the other hand, is a fault of character. In\nattempting to formulate the rule of conduct, appeal as before to the\negoistic motive, then to the social--i. e., the desire for the good\nopinion of others--and lastly to the moral motive, properly speaking.\nFear paralyzes; it fascinates its victim like the fabled basilisk.\nNothing is more common than a sense of helpless immobility under the\ninfluence of fear. There is a way of escape. You might run or leap for\nyour life, but you can not stir a limb. What you need to do is to turn\naway your attention by a powerful effort of the will from the object\nwhich excites fear. So long as that object is before you the mind can\nnot act; the mind is practically absent. What you need is presence of\nmind. Let the teacher adduce some of the many striking instances in\nwhich men in apparently desperate straits have been saved by presence of\nmind. The rule thus far would read: Be brave and suppress fear, because\nby so doing you may escape out of danger. In the next place, by so doing\nyou will escape the reproaches of your fellow-men, for cowardice is\nuniversally condemned as shameful. Cite from Spartan history examples\nshowing in the strongest light the feeling of scorn and contempt for the\ncoward. There are, however, cases where death is certain, and where\nthere is no support like that of public opinion to sustain courage. What\nshould be the rule of duty in such cases? Take the case of a person who\nhas been shipwrecked. He swims the sea alone, he is still clinging to a\nspar, but realizes that in a few minutes he must let go, his strength\nbeing well-nigh spent. What should be his attitude of mind in that\nsupreme moment. The forces of nature are about to overwhelm him. What\nmotive can there be strong enough to support bravery in that moment? The\nrule of duty for him would be: Be brave, because as a human being you\nare superior to the forces of nature, because there is something in\nyou--your moral self--over which the forces of nature have no power,\nbecause what happens to you in your private character is not important,\nbut it is important that you assert the dignity of humanity to the last\nbreath.\n\nAfter having discussed courage, define fortitude. Point out the\nimportance of strength of will. Contrast the strong will with the\nfeeble, with the wayward, the irresolute, and also the obstinate will,\nfor obstinacy is often the sign of weakness rather than of strength.\nSee, for useful hints on this subject, Bain's The Emotions and the Will.\n\nWhat happens to thy little self is not important. This is the leading\nthought which shall also guide us in the discussion of _Anger_. In\nentering on the subject of anger begin by describing the effects of it.\nQuote the passage from Seneca's treatise on anger, showing how it\ndisfigures the countenance. Point out that anger provokes anger in\nreturn, and is therefore contrary to self-interest. Call to your aid the\nsocial motive by showing that under the influence of anger we often\novershoot the mark and inflict injuries on others which we had not\nintended. Finally, show that indulgence in anger is immoral. In what\nsense is it immoral? Anger is an emotional reaction against injury. When\na child hurts its foot against a stone, it is often so unreasonably\nangry at the stone as to strike it. When an adult person receives a\nblow, his first impulse is to return it. This desire to return injury\nfor injury is one of the characteristic marks of anger. Another mark is\nthat anger is proportional to the injury received, and not to the fault\nimplied. Every one knows that a slight fault in another may occasion a\ngreat injury to ourselves, while, on the other hand, a serious fault may\nonly cause us a slight inconvenience. The angry person measures his\nresentment by the injury, and not by the fault. Anger is selfish. It is\nfed and pampered by the delusion that our pleasures and pains are of\nchief importance. Contrast with anger the moral feeling of indignation.\nAnger is directed against the injury received, indignation solely\nagainst the wrong done. The immoral feeling prompts us to hate wrong\nbecause it has been inflicted on us. The moral feeling prompts us to\nhate wrong because it is wrong. Now, to the extent that we sincerely\nhate wrong we shall be stirred up to diminish its power over others as\nwell as over ourselves; we shall, for instance, be moved to save the\nevil doer who has just injured us from the tyranny of his evil nature;\nwe shall aspire to become the moral physicians of those who have hurt\nus. And precisely because they have hurt us, they have a unique claim on\nus. We who know better than others the extent of their disease are\ncalled upon more than others to labor with a view to their cure. In this\nconnection the rule of returning good for evil should be explained. This\nrule does not apply alike in all cases, though the spirit of it should\nalways inspire our actions. If a pickpocket should steal our purse, it\nwould be folly to hand him a check for twice the amount he has just\nstolen. If a hardened criminal should draw his knife and wound us in the\nback, it would be absurd to request him kindly to stab us in the breast\nalso. We should in this case not be _curing_ him, but simply confirming\nhim in his evil doing. The rule is: Try to free the sinner from the\npower of sin. In some cases this is best accomplished by holding his\nhand, as it were, and preventing him from carrying out the intended\nwrong. In other cases by depriving him of his liberty for a season,\nsubjecting him to wholesome discipline, and teaching him habits of\nindustry. Only in the case of those who have already attained a higher\nmoral plane, and whose conscience is sensitive, does the rule of\nreturning good for evil apply literally. If a brother has acted in an\nunbrotherly way toward you, do you on the next occasion act wholly in a\nbrotherly way toward him. You will thereby show him how he ought to have\nacted and awaken the better nature in him.\n\nCertain practical rules for the control of anger may be given to the\npupil. Suppress the signs of anger; you will thereby diminish its force.\nTry to gain time: \"When you are angry, count ten before you speak; when\nyou are very angry, count a hundred.\" Having gained time, examine\nrigorously into your own conduct. Ask yourself whether you have not been\npartly to blame. If you find that you have, then, instead of venting\nyour wrath on your enemy, try rather to correct the fault which has\nprovoked hostility. But if, after honest self-scrutiny, you are able to\nacquit yourself, then you can all the more readily act the part of the\nmoral physician, for it is the innocent who find it easiest to forgive.\nIt is also useful to cite examples of persons who, like Socrates, have\nexhibited great self-control in moments of anger; and to quote proverbs\ntreating of anger, to explain these proverbs and to cause them to be\ncommitted to memory. I advise, indeed, that proverbs be used in\nconnection with all the moral lessons. Of the manner in which they are\nto be used I shall speak later on.\n\nThe last of the present group of duties which we shall discuss relates\nto the feelings of vanity, pride, humility. Vanity is a feeling of\nself-complacency based on external advantages. A person is vain of his\ndress or of his real or supposed personal charms. The peacock is the\ntype of vanity. Though the admiration of others ministers to vanity, yet\nit is possible to be vain by one's self--before a mirror, for instance.\nThe feeling of pride, on the other hand, depends upon a comparison\nbetween self and others. Pride implies a sense of one's own superiority\nand of the inferiority of others. Both feelings are anti-moral. They\nspring, like moral cowardice and anger, from the false belief that this\nlittle self of ours is of very great importance. There is no such thing\nas proper pride or honest pride. The word pride used in this connection\nis a misnomer. Vanity is spurious self-esteem based on external\nadvantages. Pride is spurious self-esteem based on comparison with\nothers. Genuine self-esteem is based on the consciousness of a\ndistinction which we share with all humanity--namely, the capacity and\nthe duty of rational development. This genuine self-esteem has two\naspects--the one positive, the other negative. The positive aspect is\ncalled dignity, the negative humility. True dignity and true humility\nalways go together. The sense of dignity arises within us when we\nremember the aims to which as human beings we are pledged; the sense of\nhumility can not fail to arise when we consider how infinitely in\npractice we all fall below those aims. Thus while pride depends on a\ncomparison of ourselves with others, the genuinely moral feeling is\nexcited when we consider our relation to the common ends of mankind. On\nthe one hand, we are indeed privileged to pursue those ends, and are\nthereby exalted above all created things and above the whole of the\nnatural world with all its stars and suns. Upon this consideration is\nfounded the sense of dignity. On the other hand, we can not but own how\ngreat is the distance which separates even the best of us from the goal,\nand this gives rise to a deep sense of humility. The rule of conduct\nwhich we are considering is a rule of proper self-estimation. Estimate\nthy worth not by external advantages nor by thy pre-eminence above\nothers, but by the degree of energy with which thou pursuest the moral\naims. To mark off the distinction between vanity and pride on the one\nhand and dignity on the other, the teacher may contrast in detail the\nlives of Alcibiades and Socrates.\n\nIn connection with the discussion of anger and of pride, define such\nterms as hate, envy, malice. Hatred is anger become chronic. Or we may\nalso say the state of mind which leads to passionate paroxysms in the\ncase of anger is called hate when it has turned into a settled inward\ndisposition. In other respects the characteristic marks of both are the\nsame. Envy is the obverse of pride. Pride is based on real or fancied\nsuperiority to others. Envy is due to real or fancied inferiority. Pride\nis the vice of the strong, envy of the weak. Malice is pleasure in the\nloss of others irrespective of our gain.\n\nI have observed on a previous occasion that the feelings considered by\nthemselves have no moral value. Nevertheless, we have now repeatedly\nspoken of moral feelings. The apparent contradiction disappears if we\nremember that all feelings of the higher order presuppose, and are the\necho of complex systems of ideas. The moral feelings are those in which\nmoral ideas have their resonance; and those feelings are valuable in\nvirtue of the ideas which they reflect. The feeling of moral courage\ndepends on the idea that the injuries we receive at the hands of fortune\nare not important, but that it is important for us to do credit to our\nrational nature. The feeling of moral indignation depends on the idea\nthat the injuries we receive from our fellow-men are not important, but\nthat it is important that the right be done and the wrong abated. The\nfeelings of moral dignity and humility combined depend on the idea that\nit does not signify whether the shadow we cast in the world of men be\nlong or short, but only that we live in the light of the moral aims.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[16] See, e. g., the famous passage in Seneca, De Ira, iii, 15.\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nDUTIES WHICH RELATE TO OTHERS.\n\n\nFILIAL DUTIES.\n\nWe began our course of moral instruction with the self-regarding duties,\nand assigned the second place to the duties which relate to others.\nThere is an additional reason besides the one already given for keeping\nto this order.\n\nIf we were to begin with the commandments or prohibitions which relate\nto others--e. g., the sixth, eighth, and ninth commandments of the\nDecalogue--the pupil might easily get the impression that these things\nare forbidden solely because they involve injuries to others, but that\nin cases where the injury is inconsiderable, or not apparent, the\ntransgression of moral commandments is more or less excusable. There are\nmany persons who seem unable to understand that it is really sinful to\ndefraud the custom-house or to neglect paying one's fare in a horse-car.\nAnd why? Because the injury inflicted seems so insignificant. Now, it is\nof the utmost consequence to impress upon the pupil that every action\nwhich involves a violation of duty to others at the same time produces a\nchange in the moral quality of the agent, that he suffers as well as the\none whom he wrongs. The subjective and objective sides of transgression\ncan not in point of principle and ought not in actual consciousness to\nbe separated. If, therefore, we begin by enforcing such duties as\ntemperance the pupil will at once feel that the violation of the law\nchanges his inward condition, degrades him in his own eyes, lowers him\nin the scale of being. The true standpoint from which all moral\ntransgression should be regarded will thus be gained at the outset, and\nit will be comparatively easy to maintain the same point of view when we\ncome to speak of the social duties.\n\nTo start discussion on the subject of the filial duties, relate the\nstory of AEneas carrying his aged father, Anchises, out of burning Troy;\nalso the story of Cleobis and Bito (Herodotus, i, 31). Recall the\ndevotion of Telemachus to Ulysses. Tell the story of Lear and his\ndaughters, contrasting the conduct of Regan and Goneril with that of\nCordelia. An excellent story to tell, especially to young children, is\nthat of Dama. AEneas and Telemachus illustrate the filial spirit as\nexpressed in services rendered to parents, but opportunity to be of real\nservice to parents is not often offered to the very young. The story of\nDama exhibits the filial spirit as displayed in acts of delicacy and\nconsideration, and such acts are within the power of all children. The\nstory is located in Palestine, and is supposed to have occurred at the\ntime when the temple at Jerusalem was still standing. Dama was a dealer\nin jewels, noted for possessing the rarest and richest collection\nanywhere to be found. It happened that it became necessary to replace a\nnumber of the precious stones on the breastplate of the high priest, and\na deputation was sent from Jerusalem to wait on Dama and to select from\nhis stock what was needed. Dama received his distinguished visitors with\nbecoming courtesy, and on learning their mission spread out before them\na large number of beautiful stones. But none of these were satisfactory.\nThe stones must needs be of extraordinary size and brilliancy. None but\nsuch might be used. When Dama was informed of this he reflected a\nmoment, then said that in a room occupied by his old father there was a\ncabinet in which he kept his most precious gems, and that among them he\nwas sure he could find what his visitors wanted. He bade them delay a\nfew moments, while he made the necessary search. But presently he\nreturned without the jewels. He expressed the greatest regret, but\ndeclared that it was impossible to oblige them. They were astonished,\nand, believing it to be a mere trader's trick, offered him an immense\nprice for the stones. He answered that he was extremely sorry to miss so\nprofitable a transaction, but that it was indeed beyond his power to\noblige them now--if they would return in an hour or two he could\nprobably suit them. They declared that their business admitted of no\ndelay; that the breastplate must be repaired at once, so that the priest\nmight not be prevented from discharging his office. And so he allowed\nthem to depart. It appears that when Dama opened the door of the room\nhe saw his old father asleep on the couch. He tried to enter\nnoiselessly, but the door creaked on its hinges, and the old man started\nin his sleep. Dama checked himself, and turned back. He said, \"I will\nforego the gain which they offer me, but I will not disturb the slumbers\nof my father.\" The sleep of the old father was sacred to Dama. Children\nare often thoughtless in breaking noisily into a room where father or\nmother is resting. Such a story tends to instill the lesson of\nconsideration and of reverence.\n\nReverence is the key-note of filial duty. You will remember that Goethe,\nin Wilhelm Meister, in those chapters in which he sketches his\npedagogical ideal, bases the entire religious and moral education of the\nyoung on a threefold reverence. He applies the following symbolism: The\npupils of the ideal pedagogical institution are required to take, on\ndifferent occasions, three different attitudes. Now they fold their arms\non their breast, and look with open countenance upward; again they fold\ntheir arms on their backs, and their bright glances are directed toward\nthe earth; and again they stand in a row, and their faces are turned to\nthe right, each one looking at his neighbor. These three attitudes are\nintended to symbolize reverence toward what is above us, toward what is\nbeneath us, and toward our equals. These three originate and culminate\nin the true self-reverence. In speaking of filial duty, we are concerned\nwith reverence toward what is above us. The parent is the physical,\nmental, and moral superior of the child. It is his duty to assist the\nchild's physical, mental, and moral growth; to lift it by degrees out of\nits position of inferiority, so that it may attain the fullness of its\npowers, and help to carry on the mission of mankind when the older\ngeneration shall have retired from the scene. The duty of the superior\ntoward the inferior is to help him to rise above the plane of\ninferiority. The receptive and appreciative attitude of one who is thus\nhelped is called reverence. But we must approach the nature of parental\nduty more closely, and the following reflections may put us in the way:\nNo man can attain the intellectual aims of life without assistance. A\nscientist inhabiting a desert island and limited to his own mental\nresources could make little headway. The scientist of to-day utilizes\nthe accumulated labors of all the generations of scientists that have\npreceded him, and depends for the value of his results on the\nco-operation and the sifting criticism of his contemporaries. And as no\none can get much knowledge without the help of others, so no one is\njustified in seeking knowledge for his own private pleasure, or in\nseeking the kind of knowledge that happens to pique his vanity. For\ninstance, it is a violation of intellectual duty to spend one's time in\nacquiring out-of-the way erudition which is useful only for display. The\npursuit of knowledge is a public not a private end. Every scholar and\nman of science is bound to enlarge as far as he can the common stock of\ntruth, to add to the scientific possessions of the human race. But in\norder to do this he must question himself closely, that he may discover\nin what direction his special talent lies, and may apply himself\nsedulously to the cultivation of that. For it is by specializing his\nefforts that he can best serve the general interests of truth. The same\nholds good with respect to the pursuit of social ends--e. g., the\ncorrection of social abuses and the promotion of social justice. The\nreformer of to-day stands on the shoulders of all the reformers of the\npast, and would have little prospect of success in any efforts he may\nmake without the co-operation and criticism of numerous co-workers. Nor,\nagain, is it right for him to take up any and every project of reform\nthat may happen to strike his fancy. He ought rather to consider what\nparticular measures under existing circumstances are most likely to\nadvance the cause of progress, and in what capacity he is specially\nfitted to promote such measures. Justice and truth are public, not\nprivate ends. The highest aim of life for each one is to offer that\ncontribution which he, as an individual, is peculiarly fitted to make\ntoward the attainment of the public ends of mankind. The individual when\nliving only for himself, absorbed in his private pleasures and pains, is\na creature of little worth; and his existence is of little more account\nin the scheme of things than that of the summer insects, who have their\nday and perish. But the individual become the organ of humanity acquires\na lasting worth, and his individuality possesses an inviolable sanctity.\nThe sacredness of individuality in the sense just indicated is a\nleading idea of ethics--perhaps it would not be too much to say, the\nleading idea.\n\nAnd now we can state more exactly the nature of parental duty. It is the\nduty of the parent, remembering that he is the guardian of the permanent\nwelfare of his child, to respect, to protect, to develop its\nindividuality--above all, to discover its individual bent; for that is\noften latent, and requires to be persistently searched out. It is the\nduty and the privilege of the parent to put the child, as it were, in\npossession of its own soul.\n\nAnd upon this relationship filial reverence is founded, and from it the\nprincipal filial duties may be deduced. Because the child does not know\nwhat is best for it, in view of its destiny, as described above, it is\nbound to obey. Obedience is the first of the filial duties. Secondly,\nthe child is bound to show gratitude for the benefits received at the\nhands of its parents. The teacher should discuss with his pupils the\nprincipal benefits conferred by parents. The parents supply the child\nwith food, shelter, and raiment; they nurse it in sickness, often\nsacrificing sleep, comfort, and health for its sake. They toil in order\nthat it may want nothing; they give it, in their fond affection, the\nsweet seasoning of all their other gifts. It is well to bring these\nfacts distinctly before the pupil's mind. The teacher can do it with a\nbetter grace than the parent himself. The teacher can strengthen and\ndeepen the home feeling, and it is his office to do so. The pupil\nshould go home from his moral lesson in school and look upon his parents\nwith a new realization of all that he owes them, with a new and deeper\ntenderness. But the duty of gratitude should be based, above all, upon\nthe greatest gift which the child obtains from his parents, the help\nwhich it receives toward attaining the moral aim of its existence.\n\nI do not include the commandment \"Love thy parents\" among the rules of\nfilial duty, for I do not think that love can be commanded. Love follows\nof itself if the right attitude of reverence, obedience, gratitude be\nobserved. Love is the sense of union with another. And the peculiarity\nof filial love, whereby it is distinguished from other kinds of love, is\nthat it springs from union with persons on whom we utterly depend, with\nmoral superiors, to whom we owe the fostering of our spiritual as well\nas of our physical existence.\n\nBut how shall the sentiment of filial gratitude express itself?\nGratitude is usually displayed by a return of the kindness received. But\nthe kindness which we receive from parents is such that we can never\nrepay it. It is of the nature of a debt which we can never hope fully to\ncancel. We can do this much--when our parents grow old, we can care for\nthem, and smooth the last steps that lead to the grave. And when we\nourselves have grown to manhood and womanhood, and have in turn become\nparents, we can bestow upon our own offspring the same studious and\nintelligent care which our parents, according to the light they had,\nbestowed on us, and thus ideally repay them by doing for others what\nthey did for us. But this is a point which concerns only adults. As for\nyoung children, they can show their gratitude in part by slight\nservices, delicacies of behavior, the chief value of which consists in\nthe sentiment that inspires them, but principally by a willing\nacceptance of parental guidance, and by earnest efforts in the direction\nof their own intellectual and moral improvement. There is no love so\nunselfish as parental love. There is nothing which true parents have\nmore at heart than the highest welfare of their children. There is no\nway in which a child can please father and mother better than by doing\nthat which is for its own highest good. The child's progress in\nknowledge and in moral excellence are to every parent the most\nacceptable tokens of filial gratitude. And this leads me to an important\npoint, to which reference has already been made. It has been stated that\neach period of life has its distinct set of duties; furthermore, that in\neach period there is one paramount duty, around which the others may be\ngrouped; and, lastly, that at each successive stage it is important to\nreach backward and to bring the ethical system of the preceding period\ninto harmony with the new system. Of this last point we are now in a\nposition to give a simple illustration. The paramount duty of the school\nperiod is to acquire knowledge; the paramount duty of the previous\nperiod is to reverence parents. But, as has just been shown, reverence\ntoward parents at this stage is best exhibited by conscientious study,\nand thus the two systems are merged into one.[17]\n\n\nTHE FRATERNAL DUTIES.\n\nThus much concerning the filial relations. We pass on to speak of the\nfraternal duties; the duties of brothers to brothers and sisters to\nsisters; of brothers to sisters and conversely; of older to younger\nbrothers and sisters and conversely. The fraternal duties are founded\nupon the respect which equals owe to equals. The brotherly relation is\nof immense pedagogic value, inasmuch as it educates us for the\nfulfillment later on of our duties toward all equals, be they kinsmen or\nnot. As between brothers, the respect of each for the rights of the\nother is made comparatively easy by natural inclination. The tie of\nblood, close and constant association in the same house, common\nexperience of domestic pleasures and sorrows--all this tends to link the\nhearts of the brothers together, and thus the first lessons in one of\nthe hardest duties are given by Love, the gentlest of school-masters.\nBut the word equality must not be misconceived. Equality is not to be\ntaken in its mathematical sense. One brother is gifted and may\neventually rise to wealth and fame, another is Nature's step-child; one\nsister is beautiful, another the opposite. If the idea of equality be\npressed to a literal meaning, it is sure to give rise to ugly feelings\nin the hearts of the less fortunate. How, then, shall we define equality\nin the moral sense? A superior, as we have seen, renders services which\nthe inferior can not adequately return. Equals are those who are so far\non the same level as to be capable of rendering mutual services, alike\nin importance, though not necessarily the same in kind. Equals are\ncorrelative to one another. The services of each are complementary to\nthose of the other. The idea of _mutual service_, therefore, is\ncharacteristic of the relation of brothers, and the rule of duty may be\nformulated simply, Serve one another. From this follow all the minor\ncommands and prohibitions which are usually impressed upon children,[18]\nand also the far loftier counsels which apply only to adults.\n\nIt will be perceived that the rule of mutual service, when carried to\nits highest applications, presupposes the principle of individual\ndifferentiation, to which we have already attached so much weight. This\nprinciple is fundamental to fraternal as well as to paternal and filial\nduty. For precisely to the extent that brothers are distinctly\nindividualized can they supplement each other and correlate their\nmutual services. One can not indeed overlook the patent fact that\nbrothers who are unlike in nature frequently repel each other, and that\nin such cases the very closeness of the relation often becomes a source\nof extreme irritation, and even of positive agony. But, on the other\nhand, there is no surer sign of moral ripeness than the ability to enter\ninto, to understand, to appreciate a nature totally unlike one's own,\nand thus to some extent to appropriate its excellences. The very fact,\ntherefore, that we at first feel ourselves repelled should be taken as a\nhint that this natural repulsion is to be overcome. For every type of\ncharacter needs its opposite to correct it. The idealist, for instance,\nneeds the realist, if he would keep his balance. And our uncongenial\nbrothers, precisely because they are at first uncongenial, if we will\nbut remember that they are, after all, our brothers, and that it is our\nduty to come into harmonious relations with them, can best help us to\nthis fine self-conquest, this true enrichment and enlargement of our\nmoral being.\n\nA word may be added as a caution to parents and teachers. The way to\ncreate brotherly feeling among the young is to treat them impartially,\nto love them with an equal love. Those who love and are beloved by the\nsame person are strongly induced to love one another. In the next place,\nwhen disputes arise, as is perhaps unavoidable, the parent or teacher\nshould, as a rule, enter patiently into the cause and not cut off\ninquiry because the whole matter seems trivial. The subject matter of\nthe dispute may be insignificant enough, but the satisfaction of the\nsense of justice of the young is of the greatest significance. When the\nsense of justice is outraged, be the cause never so trivial, a feeling\nof distrust against the parent is generated, and of incipient hatred\nagainst the brother who may have provoked the unjust decision.\n\nI have yet to speak of the duties of older to younger brothers and\nsisters. If it is difficult to serve two masters, it is hardly pleasant\nto be asked to serve half a dozen. The youngest children in a large\nfamily are often placed in this position. There is, in the first place,\nthe authority of the parents, which must be respected; then, in\naddition, each of the grown-up sons and daughters is apt to try to\nexercise a little authority on his or her own account. The younger ones\nnaturally resent this petty despotism, and disobedience and angry\nrecriminations are the unpleasant consequences. It is often necessary\nthat elder sons and daughters should have partial charge of the younger.\nThey can in all cases make their authority acceptable by representing it\nas delegated, by having it understood that they regard themselves merely\nas substitutes in the parents' place. There must be unity of influence\nin the home, or else the moral development of the young will be sadly\ninterfered with. There must be only a single center of authority,\nrepresented by the parents, and all minor exercise of authority should\nbe referred back to that center. \"Father and mother wish me to help\nyou\"; \"Father and mother will be pleased if you do so and so; let me\ntry to show you how\"--if the method of management implied in such words\nas these be adopted, the younger children will look upon the elder as\ntheir friends and be glad to accept advice and direction.\n\nLastly, a word about the relation between brothers and sisters, and\nconversely. This relationship is qualified by the difference of sex. A\ncertain chivalry characterizes the attitude of the brother toward the\nsister, a certain motherliness that of the sister toward the brother.\nThe relation may be and often is a very beautiful one. The peculiar\nmoral responsibility connected with it is that the sister is usually the\nfirst woman whom the brother knows at all intimately and as an equal,\nand that his notions of womanhood are largely influenced by the traits\nwhich he sees in her, while the brother is usually the first man whom\nthe sister knows as a companion, and her ideas of men are colored by\nwhat she sees in him.\n\nTo illustrate the fraternal relation I have been in the habit of\nrecalling the stories from the Old Testament which bear upon this\nsubject. I have also given an account of the life of the brothers Jacob\nand William Grimm. There was only a year's difference between them.\nJacob Grimm, in the eulogy on William, which he delivered before the\nBerlin Academy in the year 1860, says: \"During the slowly creeping years\nof our school life we slept in the same bed and occupied the same room.\nThere we sat at one and the same table studying our lessons. Later on\nthere were two tables and two beds in the same room; and later still,\nduring the entire period of our riper manhood, we still continued to\noccupy two adjoining rooms, always under the same roof.\" All their\nproperty, and even their books, they held in common; what belonged to\nthe one belonged to the other. They visited the university together in\nthe same year; they both took up, in deference to their mother's wish,\nthe same study, that of the law, which they alike hated, and then they\nturned in common to the study of philology, in which both delighted and\nboth achieved such great distinction. They published their first\nimportant works in the same year; and as they slept together in the same\nbed when they were children, so now they sleep side by side in the\ngrave.\n\nI refer to the story of Lear and his daughters to show that the common\nlove for the parents is necessary to sustain the love of brothers and\nsisters toward one another. Lear had estranged the affection of Goneril\nand Regan through his partiality for Cordelia. The two women, who had no\nlove for their father, hated each other; and Goneril, who was the first\nto cast him out, poisoned her sister.\n\nTo illustrate the relations of brothers to sisters, I give an account of\nthe beautiful lives of Charles and Mary Lamb. To show the redeeming\npower of womanhood as represented in a sister, I explain to older\npupils the story which underlies Goethe's drama of Iphigenia. Orestes is\nsick; and what is his malady? His soul has been poisoned by remorse.\nBelieving himself to be the executive arm of justice, he committed a\ngreat crime, and now he is torn by the pangs of conscience, and his mind\nis forever dwelling on that scene in which he was a fatal actor. And how\ndoes Iphigenia heal him? She heals him by the clear truthfulness of her\nnature, which the play is designed to bring out. With the light of\ngenuine womanhood which emanates from her she illuminates anew his\ndarkened path. By the force of the good which he learns to recognize in\nher he is led to a new trust in the redeeming power of the good in\nhimself, and thus to start out afresh in a life of courage, hope, and\nactive effort. The teacher should analyze and cause to be committed to\nmemory the various beautiful proverbs which bear upon the subject of\nfraternal duty.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[17] It may also be pointed out to the pupil that a part of the task of\nintellectual and moral training, which originally belongs entirely to\nthe parents, has by them been intrusted to the teachers, and that\nsomething of the reverence which belongs to the former is now due to the\nlatter.\n\n[18] Do not quarrel over your respective rights; rather be more eager to\nsecure the rights of your brother than your own. Do not triumph in your\nbrother's disgrace or taunt him with his failings, but rather seek to\nbuild up his self-respect. Help one another in your tasks, etc.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nDUTIES TOWARD ALL MEN.\n\n\nJUSTICE AND CHARITY.\n\nJUSTICE.--The subject of justice is a difficult one to treat. Justice in\nthe legal sense is to be distinguished from justice in the moral sense.\nWe are concerned only with the latter. How much of it can we hope to\ninclude in such a course of instruction as this? We can, I think,\nexplain the essential principle and give a few of its most important\napplications. What is this principle? Human society is an organism, and\nthe perfection of it depends upon the degree to which the parts related\nare differentiated. Unity of organization is the end, differentiation is\nthe means. The serving of universal ends is the aim, the emphasizing of\nindividuality the means. The principle which underlies the laws of\njustice I take to be respect for individuality of others. And this may\nbe expressed in the rule, Respect the individuality of every human\nbeing. It might, indeed, appear at first sight as if justice had to do\nonly with those points in which all men are alike, and took no notice of\nthe differences that subsist between them. Thus justice enjoins respect\nfor the life of others; and in regard to this all men are exactly on a\npar, all men are equally entitled to live. But justice also commands us\nto respect the convictions of others, however different they may be from\nour own. And it is but a finer sense of justice which keeps us from\nintruding on the privacy of others, which leads us to show a proper\nconsideration for the ways and idiosyncrasies of others, and in general\nto refrain from encroaching on the personality of others. The principle\nof justice may also be expressed in the rule, Do not interfere with the\nindividual development of any one.\n\n\nAPPLICATIONS OF THE PRINCIPLE OF JUSTICE.--\n\n1. _Do not kill._ By taking away the life of a human being we should of\ncourse cut off all chance of that person's further development. This\nrequires no comment. But certain casuistical questions arise in\nconnection with this command. Is it right to kill another in\nself-defense? The difficulty involved might be put in this way: A\nburglar breaks into your house by night and threatens to kill you. You\nhave a weapon at hand and can save yourself by killing him. Now it is\nevident that one of two lives must be taken. But would it not be more\nmoral on your part to say: I, at least, will not break the commandment.\nI would rather be killed than kill? This question serves to show to what\nabsurdities a purely formal principle in ethics can lead, as we have\nalready seen in the discussion of truthfulness. The problem of the duel\nand that of the taking of the life of others in war also belong under\nthis head, but will be reserved for the advanced course.\n\n2. _Respect the personal liberty of others._ Slavery, under whatever\nform, is an outrage on justice. The slave is degraded to be the mere\ninstrument of his master's profit or pleasure. Let the teacher point out\nin what particulars the slave is wronged, and show the evil effects of\nthe institution of slavery on the character of the master as well as of\nthe slave. Question--Is it right to speak of wage-slavery, for instance,\nin cases where the hours of labor are so prolonged as to leave no time\nfor higher interests, or where the relations of the laborer to his\nemployer are such as to impair his moral independence?\n\n3. _Respect the property of others._ Unless we are careful we may at\nthis point commit a grave wrong. Upon what moral considerations shall\nthe right of property be based? The school, especially the moral lessons\nwhich are imparted in it, should certainly not be placed in the service\nof vested interests. On the other hand, the school should not fill the\npupils' minds with economic theories, which they are incapable of\nunderstanding, and of which the truth, the justice, the feasibility are\nstill hotly disputed. We are therefore taking a very responsible step in\nintroducing the idea of property at all into our moral lessons. And yet\nit is too great and important to be ignored. Some writers have advanced\nthe theory that the right in question rests on labor, and they regard it\nas a self-evident proposition, one which, therefore, might safely be\ntaught to the young, that every person is entitled to the products of\nhis labor. Jules Simon says (see Paul Janet, Elements of Morals, English\ntranslation, p. 66): \"This earth was worth nothing and produced\nnothing. I dug the soil, I brought from a distance fertilizing earth; it\nis now fertile. This fertility is my work; by fertilizing it, I made it\nmine.\" American writers have eloquent passages to the same effect. But\nthis proposition certainly does not appear to me self-evident, nor even\ntrue. Chiefly for the reason that \"my labor\" and \"my skill\" are not\noriginal, but derivative factors in production. They are very largely\nthe result of the labor and the skill of generations that have preceded\nme, that have built up in me this brain, this skill, this power of\napplication. The products of my labor would indeed belong to me if my\nlabor were really mine, if it were not to an incalculable extent the\nconsequent of social antecedents, in regard to which I can not claim the\nleast merit. The attempt to found the rewards of labor upon the merit of\nthe laborer seems to me a perfectly hopeless one.\n\nLet me add that it is one thing to say that he who will not work shall\nnot eat, and a very different thing to say that he who works shall enjoy\nwhat he has produced. The former statement merely signifies that he who\nwill not contribute his share toward sustaining and improving human\nsociety is not entitled to any part in the advantages of the social\norder, though the charity of his fellow-men may grant him, under certain\nconditions and in the hope of changing his disposition, what he is not\nentitled to as of right. But the question what the share of the laborer\nought to be is one that can not be settled in the rough-and-ready\nmanner above suggested, and the considerations involved are, in truth,\nfar too numerous and complex to be introduced at this stage. The whole\nquestion will be reopened later on. For the present it must suffice to\nstate certain purely moral considerations on which the right of property\nmay be made to rest. The following are the ideas which I should seek to\ndevelop: Property is justified by its uses. Its uses are to support the\nexistence and promote the mental and moral growth of man. The physical\nlife itself depends on property. Even in a communistic state the food\nany one eats must be his property in the sense that every one else is\ndebarred from using it. The moral life of men depends on property. The\nmoral life is rooted in the institution of the family, and the family\ncould not exist without a separate domicile of its own and the means of\nproviding for its dependent members. The independence and the growth of\nthe intellect depend on property. In short, property is an indispensable\nadjunct of _personality_. This I take to be its moral basis. What I here\nindicate, however, is an ideal right which the existing state of society\nby no means reflects. By what methods we may best approach this ideal,\nwhether by maintaining and improving the system of private property in\nland or by state ownership, whether by capitalistic or socialistic\nproduction, etc., are questions of means, not of ends, and raise\nproblems in social science with which here we have not to deal.\n\nQuestion--If the present social arrangements are not morally\nsatisfactory, if e. g., certain persons possess property to which on\nmoral grounds they are not entitled, should not the commandment against\nstealing be suspended so far as they are concerned? The present system\nof rights, imperfect as it is, is the result of social evolution, and\ndenotes the high-water mark of the average ethical consciousness of the\nworld up to date. Respect for the existing system of rights, however,\nimperfect as it is, is the prime condition of obtaining a better system.\n\n4. _Respect the mental liberty of others._ Upon this rule of justice is\nfounded the right to freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and what\nis called the freedom of conscience. Point out the limitations of these\nvarious rights which follow from the fact of their universality.\n\n5. _Respect the reputation of your fellow-men._ Refrain from backbiting\nand slander. Bridle your tongue. This undoubtedly is a rule of justice.\n\"Who steals my purse steals trash,\" etc. The respect of our fellow-men\nis in itself a source of happiness and a moral prop, and, besides, the\ngreatest help in achieving the legitimate purposes of life. He who has\nthe confidence of others has wings to bear him along. He who is\nsuspected for any reason, true or false, strikes against invisible\nbarriers at every step. Nothing is so sensitive as character--a mere\nbreath may tarnish it. It is therefore the gravest kind of injury to our\nneighbors to disseminate damaging rumors, to throw out dark hints and\nsuggestions with respect to them, to impugn their motives. But is it\nnot a duty to denounce evil and evil-doers and to put the innocent on\ntheir guard against wolves in sheep's clothing? Yes, if we are sure that\nour own motives are perfectly disinterested, that we are not in the\nleast prompted by personal spite or prejudice. For if we dislike a\nperson, as every one knows, we can not judge him fairly, we are prone to\nattribute to him all manner of evil qualities and evil intents which\nexist only in our own jaundiced imagination. Very often a person against\nwhom we had at first conceived a distinct dislike proves on nearer\nacquaintance to be one whom we can esteem and even love. We should be\nwarned by such experiences to hold our judgments in suspense, and not to\nallow injurious words to pass the lips. The vast moral importance of\nbeing able to hold one's tongue, the golden resources of silence, should\nbe emphasized by the teacher.\n\nA series of lessons on good manners may be introduced at this point. The\nceremonies of social intercourse, the various forms in which refined\npeople show their deference for each other, the rule not to obtrude self\nin conversation, and the like, are so many illustrations of the respect\nwhich we owe to the personality of our fellow-men. Good manners are the\naesthetic counterpart of good morals, and the connection between the two\ncan easily be made plain.\n\n6. _Speak the truth._ Inward truthfulness is a self-regarding duty;\nsocial truthfulness is a form of justice. Words represent facts. The\nwords we speak to our neighbor are used by him as building-stones in\nthe architecture of his daily conduct. We have no right to defeat the\npurposes of his life, to weaken the dwelling he is erecting, by\nsupplying him with worthless building material.\n\nUpon exactly the same ground is based the duty of keeping one's\npromises, viz., that our fellow-men build on our promises. Promises made\nin a legal form are called contracts and can be enforced. Promises not\nmade in legal form are equally binding from a moral point of view. It\nshould be borne in mind, however, that conditional promises are canceled\nwhen the stipulated conditions do not occur, and, furthermore, that\nthere are certain tacit conditions implied in all promises whatsoever. A\nperson who has promised to visit a friend on a certain day and dies in\nthe interval is not supposed to have broken his promise; nor if any one\nmakes a similar promise and a heavy snowstorm should block the roads or\nif he should be confined to his bed by sickness is he likely to be\naccused of breaking his promise. The physical possibility of fulfilling\nthem is a tacit condition in all promises. It is also a tacit condition\nin all promises that it shall be morally possible or consistent with\nmorality to keep them. A young man who has promised to join a gang of\nburglars in an attack on a bank and who repents at the last moment is\nmorally justified in refusing to keep his pledge. His crime consisted in\nhaving made the promise in the first place, not in refusing to fulfill\nit at the last moment. A person, however, who promises to pay usurious\ninterest on a loan of money and who then takes advantage of the laws\nagainst usury to escape payment is a double-dyed rogue, for his\nintention is to cheat, and he uses the cloak of virtue as a screen in\norder to cheat with impunity. Let the teacher discuss the casuistical\nquestion whether it is right to keep a promise made to robbers--e. g.,\nif we should fall into the hands of brigands, and they should make it a\ncondition of our release that we shall not betray their hiding-place.\n\nJustice is based on positive respect for the individuality of others,\nbut its commands may all be expressed in the negative form: Do not kill,\ndo not infringe the liberty, the property of others, do not slander, do\nnot lie, etc. It is often held, however, that there is a positive as\nwell as a negative side to justice, and the two sides are respectively\nexpressed in the formulas: Neminem laede and suum cuique--Hurt no one\nand give every one his due. Of positive or distributive justice we meet\nwith such examples as the following: In awarding a prize the jury is\nbound in justice to give the award in favor of the most deserving\ncompetitor. The head of a department in filling a vacancy is bound in\njustice to avoid favoritism, to promote that one of his subordinates who\ndeserves promotion, etc. But it seems to me that this distinction is\nunimportant. Give to each one his due is tantamount to Do not deprive\nany one of what is due him. If the prize or the place belongs to A we\nshould, by withholding it from him, invade the rights of A as much as\nif we took money out of his purse. The commands are negative, but the\nvirtue implied is positive enough, because it depends on positive\nrespect for human nature. Do not infringe upon the sacred territory of\nanother's personality is the rule of justice in all cases.\n\nCHARITY.--How shall we distinguish charity from justice? It is said that\nevery one is justified in claiming from others what belongs to him as a\nmatter of right, but that no one can exact charity. The characteristic\nmark of charity is supposed to be that it is freely given. But if I\nhappen to be rich and can afford to supply the need of another am I not\nmorally bound to do so, and has not my indigent neighbor a real claim\nupon me? Again, it has been said that the term justice is applied to\nclaims which are capable of being formulated in general rules and\nimposed alike on all men in their dealings with one another, while in\nthe case of charity both the measure and the object of it are to be\nfreely determined by each one. We are free, according to this view, to\ndecide whether a claim upon us exists or not; but, the claim once having\nbeen admitted, it is as binding upon us as any of the demands of\njustice. But, while this is true, I hold that nevertheless there exists\na clear distinction between the virtues of justice and charity. We owe\njustice to our equals, charity to our inferiors. The word \"inferior\" is\nto be understood in a carefully limited sense. An employer owes his\nworkmen, as a matter of justice, the wages he has agreed to pay. Though\nthey may be socially his inferiors, in regard to this transaction they\nare his equals. They have agreed to render him certain services and he\nhas agreed to return them an equivalent.\n\nJustice says Do not hinder the development of others; Charity says\nAssist the development of others. The application of the rule of charity\nwill make its meaning clear.\n\n1. Justice says do not destroy life; Charity says save life. Rescue from\nthe flames the inmates of a burning house; leap into the waves to save a\ndrowning fellow-creature. Such persons are dependent on your help. They\nare therefore with respect to you in an inferior position.\n\nDiscuss with the class the limitations of this duty. I am not bound to\njump into the water, for instance, when I see a person drowning unless I\ncan swim. In fact, it would be culpable foolhardiness in me to do so.\nDiscuss the following casuistical case: A child is lying on the railroad\ntrack and a locomotive is rapidly approaching. Am I bound to make the\nattempt to draw it away from the track? Does it make any difference\nwhether I am single or the father of a family and have others dependent\non me? In general, the attempt to save should not be made unless there\nis a distinct chance of succeeding without the sacrifice of one's own\nlife; but we are justified in taking great risks, and courage and\nself-reliance are evinced in the degree of risk we are willing to take.\nThere are cases, however, in which the deliberate sacrifice of one life\nfor another is in the highest degree praiseworthy when, namely, the\nlife to be saved is regarded as far more precious than our own. Instance\nthe soldier who intercepts the thrust which is aimed at the life of his\ngeneral. Instance the parent who in the Johnstown flood was seen to push\nhis child to a place of safety and was then swept away by the current.\n\n2. _Assist the needy._ This may be done by giving bread to the hungry,\nclothing to the naked, shelter to the homeless, by caring for the sick,\nadvancing loans to those who are struggling toward self-support, etc.\nThe rule of charity is based on respect for the personality of others.\nWe are required to assist those who are too weak to hold their own, with\na view of putting them on their feet again. The aim of all charity\nshould be to make those who are dependent on it independent of it. From\nthis point of view all mere almsgiving, all that so-called charity which\nonly serves to make the dependent classes more dependent, stands\ncondemned. But the true test of charity, upon which the greatest stress\nshould be laid, is to be found in the way it reacts upon the charitable\nthemselves. Right relations, whatever their nature, are always mutually\nbeneficial. Does the deed of charity react beneficially on the doer? is\nthe test question to be asked in every instance. Take the case of a\nperson who gives large sums to the poor in the hope of seeing his name\nfavorably mentioned in the newspapers. The motive in this case is\nvanity, and the effect of this spurious sort of charity is to increase\nthe vanity of the donor. The reaction upon him, therefore, is morally\nharmful. Again, take the case of a person who gives capriciously, at the\nbidding of impulse, without considering whether his gifts are likely to\nbe of lasting benefit to the recipients. He is confirmed in his habit of\nyielding to impulse, and the reaction is likewise morally injurious. On\nthe other hand, the retroactive effects of true charity are most\nbeneficial. In the first place, a reaction will take place in the\ndirection of greater simplicity in our own lives. A person can not be\nseriously and deeply interested in the condition of the poor, can not\ntruly realize the hardships which they suffer, without being moved to\ncut off superfluous expenditure. Secondly, true charity will teach us to\nenter into the problems of others, often so unlike our own; to put\nourselves in their places; to consider how we should act in their\ncircumstances; to fight their battles for them; and by this means our\nmoral experience will be enlarged, and from being one, we become, as it\nwere, many men. True charity will also draw closer the bond of\nfellowship between the poor and us, for we shall often discover virtues\nin them which we do not possess ourselves; and sometimes, at least, we\nshall have occasion to look up with a kind of awe to those whom we are\naiding. In connection with the discussion of charity, let the teacher\nrelate the biographies of John Howard, Sister Dora, Florence\nNightingale, Elizabeth Fry, and others, who have been distinguished for\ntheir devotion to the suffering.\n\n3. _Cheer up the sad._ Explain that a bright smile may often have the\nvalue of an act of charity. In general, emphasize the duty of\nsuppressing irritability, ill humor, and moodiness, and of contributing\nto the sunshine of our households.[19]\n\n4. _Console the bereaved._ The afflicted are for the moment weak and\ndependent; it is the office of loving charity to make them independent.\nHere the same train of reasoning is applicable as above in the case of\nthe poor. It serves no useful purpose merely to sit down by the side of\nthe sorrowful and to weep with them. They do need sympathy, but they\nalso need, at least after the first paroxysms of grief have subsided, to\nbe roused.\n\nThe true cure for suffering is action. Those who suffer need to be\nnerved to action; they need to be shown, above all, the new duties which\ntheir situation entails. He who can point out to them the way of duty,\nand can give them of his own strength to walk in that way, is their best\nfriend--he is the true consoler.\n\n5. I have yet to speak of mental charity and of moral charity. Mental\ncharity is practiced by the wise teacher, who puts his pupils on the\nroad to knowledge, who helps them to discover their true vocation, and\nwho, when they are involved in doubt and difficulty, succeeds in giving\nthem the clew by which they can find an exit into mental clearness and\nlight.\n\n6. Moral charity is practiced by those who bend down to the sinful and\nthe fallen, and awaken in them a new hope and trust in the good and in\nthemselves. The charity which effects moral regeneration is perhaps the\nhighest type of all, and of this I know no more fitting nor more sublime\nexample than the dealing of Jesus with the outcasts of society.\n\n\n     NOTE.--Without attempting to forestall further philosophical\n     analysis, we may perhaps assume, as a working hypothesis, as a\n     provisional principle of deduction in ethics, the principle of\n     organization. The individual is an organ of humanity. It is his\n     duty to discharge, as perfectly as possible, his special functions;\n     hence the need of insisting on respect for individuality\n     throughout. Even the self-regarding duties would have no meaning\n     were not the complex whole in view, in the economy of which each\n     member is required to perform his part. As in every organism, so in\n     this, each separate organ serves, and is served in turn by all the\n     others, and can attain its highest development only through this\n     constant interaction. To complete the thought, it would be\n     necessary to add that certain organs are more closely connected\n     than others, and form lesser organisms within and subservient to\n     the whole. This, however, is merely thrown out as a suggestion\n     addressed to the student of ethics.\n\n\nTHE DUTY OF GRATITUDE.--Upon this subject much might be said, did not\nthe fact that the time at our command is nearly exhausted warn us to use\neven greater brevity than heretofore in dealing with the topics that\nremain. To bring out the right relations between benefactor and\nbeneficiary, let the teacher put the question, Why is it wrong to cast\nup the benefits we have conferred to the one who has received them? And\nwhy, on the other hand, is it so base in the latter to show himself\nungrateful. The reason is to be found in the respect due to the\npersonality of others, to which we have so often alluded. Kant says that\nevery human being is to be treated as an end in himself, and not merely\nas a means or a tool. In effect, the person who ignores benefits says to\nhis benefactor: You are my tool. It is unnecessary for me to recognize\nyour services, because you are not an independent person to be\nrespected, but a creature to be made use of at pleasure. Ingratitude is\na slur on the moral personality of others. On the other hand, he who\ncasts up benefits practically says you have forfeited your independence\nthrough the favors you have accepted. I have made your personality\ntributary to mine.\n\nAn excellent rule is that of Seneca. The benefactor should immediately\nforget what he has given; the beneficiary should always remember what he\nhas received. True gratitude is based on the sense of our moral\nfellowship with others. The gifts received and returned are mere tokens\nof this noble relationship (as all gifts should be). You have just given\nto me. I will presently give to you twice as much again, or half as\nmuch, it matters not which, when occasion arises. We will further each\nother's aims as best we can, for the ends of each are sacred to the\nother.\n\nDUTIES TO SERVANTS.--Having spoken of the duties which we owe to all\nmen, I may here refer to certain special duties, such as the duties\ntoward servants. These may also be introduced in connection with the\nduties of the family, after the filial and fraternal duties have been\nconsidered. I have space only to mention the following points:\n\n1. Servants are laborers. The same respect is due to them as to all\nother laborers.\n\n2. They are not only laborers, but in a special sense helpers. They are\nmembers of the household in a subordinate capacity, and in many cases\nidentify themselves closely with the interests of the family. They are,\nas it were, lay brothers and lay sisters of the family. From these\nconsiderations may be deduced the duties which we owe toward servants.\n\nDUTIES WITH REGARD TO ANIMALS.--I can not admit that we have duties\ntoward animals. We can not very well speak of duties toward creatures on\nwhich we in part subsist; but there are duties with respect to animals.\nMan is a rational being, and as such takes a natural delight in that\norderly arrangement and interdependence of parts which are the visible\ncounterpart of the rational principle in his own nature. We ought not to\nstep on or heedlessly crush under our feet even a single flower. Much\nless should we ruthlessly destroy the more perfect organism which we see\nin animals. Add to this that animals are sentient creatures, and that\nthe useless infliction of pain tends to develop cruelty in us. As a\npractical means of fostering kindness toward animals, I suggest the\nfollowing: Get your pupils interested in the habits of animals.\nFamiliarity in this case will breed sympathy. Speak of the building\ninstincts of bees; of the curious structures raised by those wonderful\nengineers, the beavers. Give prominence to the love for their young by\nwhich the brute creation is brought into closer connection with the\nhuman family. Mention especially the fidelity which some animals show\ntoward man (the saving of human lives by St. Bernard dogs, etc.), and\nthe uses which we derive from the various members of the animal\ncreation. As to the fact that we use animals for our sustenance, the\nhighest point of view to take, I think, is this, that man is, so to\nspeak, the crucible in which all the utilities of nature are refined to\nhigher spiritual uses. Man puts the whole of nature under contribution\nto serve his purposes. He takes trees from the forest in order to build\nhis house, and to fashion the table at which he takes his meals; he\nbrings up metal from the depths of the earth and converts it into tools;\nhe takes clay and forms it into vessels. He also is permitted to pluck\nflowers wherewith to garnish his feasts, and to make them the tokens of\nhis love; and in the same manner he may actually absorb the life of the\nlower animals, in order to transform and transfigure it, as it were,\ninto that higher life which is possible only in human society. But it\nfollows that he is a mere parasite and an interloper in nature, unless\nhe actually leads the truly human life.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[19] For the teacher I add point 4. The duties mentioned under 5 and 6\nmay be practiced in a simple way by the young in the form of aiding\ntheir backward schoolmates, and observing the right attitude toward\nthose of their companions who are in disgrace.\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nTHE ELEMENTS OF CIVIC DUTY.\n\n\nIt should be the aim of the school not only to connect the system of\nschool duties with the duties of the previous period, but also to\nprepare the pupils morally for the period which follows. The school is\nthe intermediate link between life in the family and life in society and\nthe state. The course of moral instruction, therefore, culminates for\nthe present in the chapter on civic duties. Needless to say that at this\nstage the subject can be considered in its elements only.\n\nThe claims of the state upon the moral attachment of the citizen can\nhardly be presented too warmly. Life in the state as well as in the\nfamily is indispensable to the full development of character. Man, in\nhis progress from childhood to old age, passes successively through\never-widening circles of duty, and new moral horizons open upon him as\nhe grows out of one into the other. One of the largest of these circles,\nand, in respect to moral opportunities, one of the richest and most\nglorious, is the state. It may be said that the whole state exists\nideally in every true citizen, or, what amounts to the same, that the\ntrue citizen embraces the interests of the state, as if they were his\nown, and acts from the point of view of the total body politic.\nIncreased breadth of view and elevation of purpose are the moral\nbenefits which accrue to every one who even honestly attempts to be a\ncitizen in this sense.\n\nMuch attention is paid in some schools to the machinery of our\ngovernment. The pupils are expected to learn the exact functions of\nmayors, city councils, and legislative bodies, the provisions relative\nto the election of the President, etc. But while these things ought to\nbe known, they relate, after all, only to the externals of government;\nand it is far more important to familiarize the pupils with the\nanimating spirit of political institutions, with the great ideas which\nunderlie the state. There are especially three political ideas to which\nI should give prominence; these are, the idea of the supremacy of the\nlaw; the true idea of punishment; and the idea of nationality. After we\nhave instilled these ideas, it will be time enough to dwell with greater\nparticularity on the machinery by which it is sought to carry them into\neffect.\n\nWhat method shall we use for instilling these ideas? The same which\nmodern pedagogy applies in every branch of instruction. The rule is,\nProceed from the known to the unknown; in introducing a new notion,\nconnect it with some analogous notion already in the pupil's possession.\nThe school offers excellent opportunities for developing the two ideas\nof law and punishment. In every school there exists a body of rules and\nregulations, or school laws. It should be made plain to the scholars\nthat these laws are enacted for their own good. The government of the\nschool should be made to rest as far as possible on the consent and\nco-operation of the governed. That school which does not secure on the\npart of the scholars a willing acceptance of the system of restraints\nwhich is necessary for the good of the whole, is a failure. In such an\ninstitution the law-abiding spirit can never be fostered.\n\nThe play-ground, too, affords a preliminary training for future\ncitizenship. On the play-ground the scholars learn to select and to obey\ntheir own leaders, to maintain the rules of the game, and to put down\nany infraction of them, whether in the shape of violence or fraud. They\nalso learn to defer to the will of the majority--a most important\nlesson, especially in democratic communities--and to bear defeat\ngood-humoredly.[20]\n\nThe true idea of punishment should be brought home to the scholars\nthrough the discipline of the school. The ends of punishment are the\nprotection of the community and the reformation of the offender. Nowhere\nbetter than in the little commonwealth of the school can these moral\naspects of punishment be impressed; nowhere better can the foundation be\nlaid for the changes which are so urgently needed in the dealings of the\nstate with the criminal class. Everything, of course, depends upon the\ncharacter of the teacher. His reputation for strict justice, the moral\nearnestness he displays in dealing with offenses, his readiness to\nforbear and forgive upon the least sign of genuine repentance--these are\nthe means by which he can instill right notions as to what discipline\nshould be. It has been suggested that, when a particularly serious case\nof transgression occurs, the teacher can sometimes produce a profound\nmoral effect on the class by submitting the case to them as a jury and\nasking for their verdict.\n\nThe idea of nationality I regard as fundamental in political ethics.\nThere is such a thing as national character, national genius, or\nnational individuality. When we think of the Greeks, we think of them as\npre-eminent for their achievements in art and philosophy; of the\nHebrews, as the people of the Bible; of the Romans, as the founders of\njurisprudence, etc. And on turning to the modern nations we find that\nthe talents of the English, the Germans, the French, the Italians, etc.,\nare no less diversified. Morally speaking, it is the mission of each\nnation in correlation with others to contribute to the universal work of\ncivilization its own peculiar gifts. The state may be regarded as that\norganization of the public life which is designed _to develop the\nnational individuality_; to foster the national genius in whatever\ndirection it may seek to express itself, whether in industry, art,\nliterature, or science; to clarify its aims, and to raise it to the\nhighest pitch of beneficent power.\n\nDoubtless this idea, as stated, is too abstract to be grasped by the\nyoung; but it can be brought down to their level in a tangible way. For\nthe national genius expresses itself in the national history, and more\nespecially is it incorporated in those great leaders, who arise at\ncritical periods to guide the national development into new channels. It\nis at this point that we realize anew the important support which the\nteaching of history may give to the moral teaching.[21] Thus the\npolitical history of the United States, if I may be permitted to use\nthat as an illustration of my thought, may be divided into three great\nperiods. The struggle with nature occupied the earliest period--that of\ncolonization; in this period we see the American man engaged in subduing\na continent. The struggle for political freedom fills the period of the\nRevolution. The struggle for a universal moral idea lends grandeur to\nour civil war. The story of these three great struggles should be\nrelated with such clearness that the idea which dominated each may stand\nout in relief, and with such fervor that the pupils may conceive a more\nardent love for their country which, at the same time that it holds out\nimmeasurable prospects for the future, already possesses such glorious\ntraditions. There is, however, always a great danger that patriotism may\ndegenerate into Chauvinism. Against this, universal history, when taught\nin the right spirit, is the best antidote. A knowledge of universal\nhistory is an admirable check on spurious patriotism. In teaching it,\nit is especially desirable that the contribution which each nation has\nmade to the progress of the world be noted and emphasized. Let the\nteacher speak of the early development of the literature and of the\ninventive spirit of the despised Chinese; of the high civilization which\nonce flourished on the banks of the Nile; of the immortal debt we owe to\nGreece and Rome and Judea. Let the young be made acquainted with the\nimportant services which Ireland rendered to European culture in the\nearly part of the middle ages. Let them learn, however briefly, of the\npart which France played in the overthrow of feudalism, of the wealth of\nGerman science and literature and philosophy; let them know how much\nmankind owes to the Parliaments of England, and to the stout heart and\nstrong sense which made parliaments possible. It is not by underrating\nothers, but by duly estimating and appreciating their achievements, that\nwe shall find ourselves challenged to bring forth what is best in\nourselves.\n\nThere is still another reason why, especially in American schools, the\nteaching of universal history should receive far greater attention than\nhitherto has been accorded to it. The American people are imbued with\nthe belief that they have a problem to solve for all mankind. They have\nset out to demonstrate in the face of doubt and adverse criticism the\npossibility of popular self-government. They have thus consecrated their\nnational life to a sublime humanitarian idea. And the sense of this\nconsecration, echoing in the utterances of many of their leading\nstatesmen, has more or less permeated the whole people. But the mission\nthus assumed, like the burden on the shoulders of Christophorus, is\nbecoming heavier at every step. The best citizens recognize that the\nproblem of popular self-government, so far from being solved, is but\nbeginning to disclose itself in all its vast complexity, and they\nrealize more than ever how necessary it is to get every possible help\nfrom the example and experience of older nations. The political lessons\nof the past can not indeed be mastered in the public schools. But a\npreliminary interest in European history may be created, which will pave\nthe way for profitable study later on.\n\nFurthermore, the American people have extended a most liberal invitation\nto members of other nationalities (with few restrictions, and these of\nrecent origin) to come and join in working out the destinies of the new\ncontinent. Not only is an asylum granted to the oppressed--this were the\nlesser boon--but the gates of citizenship have been opened wide to the\nnew-comers. What does this mean, if not that the foreigners who come,\nunless indeed they belong to the weak and dependent classes, are wanted;\nand wanted not only in their capacity as workers to aid in developing\nthe material resources of the country, but as citizens, to help in\nperfecting what is still imperfect, to assist in building up in time, on\nAmerican soil, the true republic.\n\nIn return for this privilege the citizens of foreign birth owe it to\ntheir adopted country to place the best of their racial gifts at its\nservice. Much that the citizens of foreign birth bring with them,\nindeed, will have to be eliminated, but, on the other hand, many of\ntheir traits will probably enter as constituent elements into the\nnational character. The Anglo-Saxon race has now the lead, and will\ndoubtless keep it. But in the melting-pot of the American commonwealths\nthe elements of many diverse nationalities are being mixed anew, and a\nnew nationality distinctively American is likely to be the final outcome\nof the process. Thus both the humanitarian ideal and the actual make-up\nof the people betray a cosmopolitan tendency, and it is this tendency\nwhich, more perhaps than anything else, gives to American political life\nits characteristic physiognomy. If this be so, if the foreign elements\nare so numerous and likely to be so influential, it is surely important\nthat the foreign races, their character and their history, be studied\nand understood.\n\nBesides explaining the political ideas, I should briefly describe the\nactual functions of government. Government protects the life and\nproperty of its citizens against foreign aggression and violence at\nhome. Government maintains the binding force of contracts. Government\nreserves to itself the coinage of money, carries the mails, supports\npublic education, etc. In a word, government assumes those functions\nwhich can be discharged more satisfactorily or more economically by the\njoint action of the community than if left to private individuals or\ncorporations. But government also undertakes the duty of protecting the\nweaker classes against oppression by the stronger, as is shown by\nfactory legislation in the interest of women and minors. How far this\nfunction may profitably be extended is open to discussion; but that it\nhas been assumed in all civilized countries is a fact which should be\nnoted.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[20] _Vide_ Dole, \"The American Citizen.\"\n\n[21] See remarks on this subject in the third lecture.\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\nTHE USE OF PROVERBS AND SPEECHES.\n\n\nFor the use of my classes I have made a collection of proverbs from the\nBible, from Buddha's Dhammapada, from the Encheiridion of Epictetus, the\nImitation of Christ, and other ancient and modern sources. Some of these\nbelong to the advanced course, others can be used in the grammar course.\nI have time to mention only a few, in order to illustrate the method of\nusing them.\n\nThe habit of committing proverbs or golden sayings to memory without a\nprevious analysis of their meaning serves no good purpose whatever.\nProverbs are the condensed expression of the moral experience of\ngenerations. The teacher should search out the experiences to which the\nproverbs refer. Proverbs may be compared to those delicate Eastern\nfabrics which can be folded up into the smallest compass, but which,\nwhen unfolded, are seen to cover a large space. The teacher should\nexplore the territory covered by the proverb. Take, for example, such a\nsaying as this, \"Blessed be he who has the good eye.\" What is the good\neye? The eye that sees the good in others. Is it easy to see the good in\nothers? Yes, if we are fond of them; but if we are not, we are likely to\nsee only the evil. But suppose there is no good to be seen, at least\nnot on the surface; why, then the good eye is that which sees the good\nbeneath the surface, which, like the divining-rod, shows where in human\ncharacter gold lies buried, and helps us to penetrate to it. But even\nthis does not exhaust the meaning of the proverb. The good eye is that\nwhich, as it were, sees the good into others, sends its good influence\ninto them, makes them good by believing them to be so. The good eye is a\ncreative eye. Or take the proverb, \"A falsehood is like pebbles in the\nmouth.\" Why not say a falsehood is like a pebble? No, one falsehood is\nlike many pebbles. For every falsehood tends to multiply itself, and\neach separate falsehood is like a pebble--not like bread, which we can\nassimilate, but like a stone, a foreign body, alien to our nature.\nMoreover, the proverb says, A falsehood is like pebbles in the mouth;\nwhich means that these stony falsehoods will choke us, choke the better\nlife in us, unless we cast them out. Again, take such sayings as these\nfrom the Dhammapada: \"As rain breaks through an ill-thatched house,\npassion will break through an unreflecting mind.\" Explain what kind of\nreflection is needed to keep off passion. \"He who is well subdued may\nsubdue others.\" Show what kind of self-control is meant, and in what\nsense others are to be subdued. \"He who holds back anger like a rolling\nchariot, him I call a real driver; other people are but holding the\nreins.\" \"Let a man overcome anger by love; let him overcome evil by\ngood; let him overcome the greedy by liberality, the liar by truth.\"\nDescribe the sort of brake by means of which the rolling chariot of\nanger may be checked in mid-course, and the efficacy of goodness in\novercoming evil. From the Encheiridion it occurs to me to mention the\nsaying, \"Everything has two handles: the one by which it can be borne,\nthe other by which it can not be borne.\" Epictetus himself gives an\nillustration: \"If your brother acts unjustly toward you, do not lay hold\nof the act by that handle wherein he acts unjustly, for that is the\nhandle by which it can not be borne; but lay hold of the other, that he\nis your brother, and you will lay hold of the thing by that handle by\nwhich it can be borne.\" There are also many other illustrations of this\nnoble maxim. Disappointment has two handles, the one by which it can be\nborne, the other by which it can not. Affliction has two handles.\nIllustrate profusely; search out the meaning in detail.\n\nThere is a mine of practical wisdom in these sayings. There exist\nproverbs relating to all the various duties which have been discussed in\nour course; proverbs relating to the pursuit of knowledge; many and\nbeautiful proverbs on the filial and fraternal duties, on courage, on\nhumility, on the importance of keeping promises, on kindness to animals,\non the moral end of civil society. Proverbs should be classified under\ntheir proper heads and used as occasion offers. Permit me, however, to\nadd one word of caution. It is a mistake to teach too many proverbs at a\ntime, to overload the pupil's mind with them. The proverbs selected\nshould be brief, pithy, and profoundly significant. But there should not\nbe too many at a time. It is better to return to the same proverb often,\nand to penetrate deeper into its meaning every time. The value of the\nproverbs is that they serve as pegs in the memory, to which long chains\nof moral reflection can be attached. They are guide-posts pointing with\ntheir short arms to the road of duty; they are voices of mankind\nuttering impressive warnings, and giving clear direction in moments when\nthe promptings of self-interest or the mists of passion would be likely\nto lead us astray.\n\nIt may also be well to select a number of speeches which embody high\nmoral sentiments, like some of the speeches of Isaiah, the speech of\nSocrates before his judges, and others, and, after having explained\ntheir meaning, to cause them to be recited by the pupils. Just as the\ndelivery of patriotic speeches is found useful for inculcating patriotic\nsentiments, so such speeches as these will tend to quicken the moral\nsentiments. He who repeats the speech of another for the time being puts\non the character of the other. The sentiments which are uttered by the\nlips live for the moment in the heart, and leave their mark there.\n\n\n\n\nXVII.\n\nTHE INDIVIDUALIZATION OF MORAL TEACHING.\n\n\nThis subject is of the greatest importance. It really requires extended\nand careful treatment, but a few hints must suffice. The teacher should\nremember that he is educating not boys and girls in general, but\nparticular boys and girls, each of whom has particular faults needing to\nbe corrected and actual or potential virtues to be developed and\nencouraged. Therefore a conscientious study of the character of the\npupils is necessary. This constitutes an additional reason why moral\ninstruction should be given in a daily school rather than in a Sunday\nschool, the opportunities for the study of character being vastly better\nin the former than they can possibly be in the latter. The teacher who\ngives the moral lessons, in undertaking this study, should solicit the\nco-operation of all the other teachers of the school. He should request\nfrom time to time from each of his fellow-teachers reports stating the\ngood and bad traits observed in each pupil, or rather the facts on which\nthe various teachers base their estimates of the good and bad qualities\nof the scholars; for the opinions of teachers are sometimes unreliable,\nare sometimes discolored by prejudice, while facts tell their own\nstory. These facts should be collated by the moral teacher, and, with\nthem as a basis, he may endeavor to work out a kind of chart of the\ncharacter of each of his pupils. It goes without saying, that he should\nalso seek the co-operation of the parents, for the purpose of\ndiscovering what characteristic traits the pupil displays at home; and\nif the reputation which a pupil bears among his companions, can be\nascertained without undue prying, this, too, will be found of use in\nforming an estimate of his disposition. The teacher who knows the\nspecial temptations of his pupils will have many opportunities, in the\ncourse of the moral lessons, to give them pertinent warnings and advice,\nwithout seeming to address them in particular or exposing their faults\nto the class. He will also be able to exercise a helpful surveillance\nover their conduct in school, and to become in private their friend and\ncounselor. Moreover, the material thus collected will in time prove\nserviceable in helping us to a more exact knowledge of the different\nvarieties of human character--a knowledge which would give to the art of\nethical training something like a scientific basis.[22]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[22] See some remarks on types of character in my lecture on the\nPunishment of Children.\n\n\n\n\nRECAPITULATION.\n\n\nLet us now briefly review the ground we have gone over in the present\ncourse. In the five introductory lectures we discussed the problem of\nunsectarian moral teaching, the efficient motives of good conduct, the\nopportunities of moral influence in schools, the classification of\nduties, and the moral status of the child on entering school.\n\nIn mapping out the primary course we assumed as a starting-point the\nidea that the child rapidly passes through the same stages of evolution\nthrough which the human race has passed, and hence we endeavored to\nselect our material for successive epochs in the child's life from the\nliterature of the corresponding epochs in the life of the race.\n\nIn regard to the method of instruction, we observed that in the fairy\ntales the moral element should be touched on incidentally; that in\nteaching the fables isolated moral qualities should be presented in such\na way that the pupil may always thereafter be able to recognize them;\nwhile the stories display a number of moral qualities in combination and\nhave the value of moral pictures.\n\nIn the primary course the object has been to train the moral\nperceptions; in the grammar course, to work out moral concepts and to\nformulate rules of conduct. The method of getting at these rules may\nagain be described as follows: Begin with some concrete case, suggest a\nrule which apparently fits that case or really fits it, adduce other\ncases which the rule does not fit, change the rule, modify it as often\nas necessary, until it has been brought into such shape that it will fit\nevery case you can think of.\n\nIn planning the lessons on duty which make up the subject matter of the\ngrammar course, we took the ground that each period of life has its\nspecific duties, that in each period there is one paramount duty around\nwhich the others may be grouped, and that each new system of duties\nshould embrace and absorb the preceding one.\n\nIt remains for me to add that the illustrations which I have used in the\ngrammar course are intended merely to serve as specimens, and by no\nmeans to exclude the use of different illustrative matter which the\nteacher may find more suitable. Furthermore, I desire to express the\nhope that it may be possible, without too much difficulty, to eliminate\nwhatever subjective conceptions may be found to have crept into these\nlessons, and that, due deduction having been made, there may remain a\nsubstratum of objective truth which all can accept. It should be\nremembered that these lectures are not intended to take the place of a\ntext-book, but to serve as a guide to the teacher in preparing his\nlessons.\n\nI hope hereafter to continue the work which has thus been begun. In the\nadvanced course, which is to follow the present one, we shall have to\nreconsider from a higher point of view many of the subjects already\ntreated, and in addition to take up such topics as the ethics of the\nprofessions, the ethics of friendship, conjugal ethics, etc., which have\nhere been omitted.\n\nI shall also attempt to indicate the lines for a systematic study of\nbiographies, and to lay out a course of selected readings from the best\nethical literature of ancient and modern times.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\nTHE INFLUENCE OF MANUAL TRAINING ON CHARACTER.[23]\n\n\nManual training has recently been suggested as one of the means of\ncombating the criminal tendency in the young, and this suggestion is\nbeing received with increasing favor. But until now the theory of manual\ntraining has hardly begun to be worked out. The confidence which is\nexpressed in it is based, for the most part, on unclassified experience.\nBut experience without theory is altogether insufficient. Theory, it is\ntrue, without experience is without feet to stand. But experience\nwithout the guiding and directing help of theory is without eyes to see.\nI shall now offer, in a somewhat tentative way, a few remarks intended\nto be a contribution to the philosophy of manual training as applied to\nthe reformation of delinquent children. I shall confine myself, however,\nto one type of criminality in children--a not uncommon type--that of\nmoral deterioration arising from weakness of the will.\n\nIn the first place, let us distinguish between feeling, desiring, and\nwilling. A person who is without food feels hunger. A person who, being\nhungry, calls up in his mind images of food, will experience a desire. A\nperson who adopts means to obtain food performs an act of the will. A\nRussian prisoner in Siberia who suffers from the restraints of\nconfinement is in a state of feeling. The same person, when he recalls\nimages of home and friends, is in a state of desire; but when he sets\nabout adopting the means to effect his escape, concerts signals with his\nfellow-prisoners, undermines the walls of his dungeon, etc., he is\nperforming acts of the will. Permit me to call particular attention to\nthe fact that the will is characterized at its birth by the intellectual\nfactor which enters into it; for the calculation of means to ends is an\nintellectual process, and every conscious act of volition involves such\na process. If the will is thus characterized at its birth, we can at\nonce anticipate the conclusion that any will will be strong in\nproportion as the intellectual factor in it predominates. It was said by\none of the speakers that \"an ounce of affection is better than a ton of\nintellect.\" Give me a proper mixture of the two. Give me at least an\nounce of intellect together with an ounce of affection. There is great\ndanger lest we exaggerate the importance of the emotions for morality.\nThe opinion is widely entertained that good feeling, kind feeling,\nloving feeling, is the whole of morality, or, at least, the essential\nfactor in it. But this opinion is surely erroneous. The will may be\ncompared to the power which propels a ship through the waves. Feeling is\nthe rudder. The intellect is the helmsman.\n\nLet me give illustrations to bring into view the characteristics of a\nstrong and of a weak will. Great inventors, great statesmen, great\nreformers, illustrate strength of will. We note in them especially\ntenacity of purpose and a marvelous faculty for adjusting and\nreadjusting means to ends. Persons who are swayed by the sensual\nappetites illustrate weakness of will. We note in them vacillation of\npurpose, and the power of adjusting means to ends only in its\nrudimentary form. The ideas of virtue are complex. No one can illustrate\nvirtue on a high plane unless he is capable of holding in mind long\ntrains and complex groups of ideas. The lowest vices, on the other hand,\nare distinguished by the circumstance that the ends to which they look\nare simple, and the means employed often of the crudest kind. Thus,\nsuppose that a person of weak will is hungry. He knows that gold will\nbuy food. He adopts the readiest way to get gold. Incapable of that long\nand complex method of attaining his end, which is exhibited, for\ninstance, by the farmer who breaks the soil, plants the corn, watches\nhis crops, and systematizes his labors from the year's beginning to its\nend, he takes the shortest road toward the possession of gold--he\nstretches forth his hand and takes it where he finds it. The man of weak\nwill, who has a grudge against his rival, is not capable of putting\nforth a sustained and complex series of efforts toward obtaining\nsatisfaction, for instance, by laboring arduously to outstrip his rival.\nHe is, furthermore, incapable of those larger considerations, those\ncomplex groups of ideas relating to society and its permanent interests,\nwhich check the angry passions in the educated. He gives free and\nimmediate rein to the passion as it rises. He takes the readiest means\nof getting satisfaction: he draws the knife and kills. The man of weak\nwill, who burns with sensual desire, assaults the object of his desire.\nThe virtues depend in no small degree on the power of serial and complex\nthinking. Those vices which are due to weakness of will are\ncharacterized by the crudeness of the aim and the crudeness of the\nmeans.\n\nTo strengthen the will, therefore, it is necessary to give to the person\nof weak will the power to think connectedly, and especially to reach an\nend by long and complex trains of means.\n\nLet us pause here for a moment to elucidate this point by briefly\nconsidering a type of criminality which is familiar to all guardians of\ndelinquent children. This type is marked by a group of salient traits,\nwhich may be roughly described as follows: Mental incoherency is the\nfirst. The thoughts of the child are, as it were, slippery, tending to\nglide past one another without mutual attachments. A second trait is\nindolence. A third, deficiency in the sense of shame; to which may be\nadded that the severest punishments fail to act as deterrents.\n\nMental incoherency is the leading trait, and supplies the key for the\nunderstanding of the others. Lack of connectedness between ideas is the\nradical defect. Each idea, as it rises, becomes an impulse, and takes\neffect to the full limit of its suggestions. A kind thought rises in the\nmind of such a child, and issues in a demonstrative impulse of\naffection. Shortly after, a cruel thought may rise in the mind of the\nsame child; and the cruel thought will, in like manner, take effect in a\ncruel act. Children answering to this type are alternately kind,\naffectionate, and cruel. The child's indolence is due to the same\ncause--lack of connectedness between ideas. It is incapable of sustained\neffort, because every task implies the ability to pass from one idea to\nrelated ideas. The child is deficient in shame, because the sense of\nshame depends on a vivid realization of the idea of self. The idea of\nself, however, is a complex idea, which is not distinctly and clearly\npresent to such a child. Lastly, the most severe punishments fail to act\nas deterrents for the same reason. The two impressions left in the mind,\n\"I did a wrong,\" \"I suffered a pain,\" lie apart. The memory of one does\nnot excite the recollection of the other. The thought of the wrong does\nnot lift permanently into consciousness the thought of the pain which\nfollowed. The punishment, as we say, is quickly forgotten. If,\ntherefore, we wish to remedy a deep-seated defect of this kind, if we\nwish to cure a weak will, in such and all similar cases we must seek to\nestablish a closer connection between the child's ideas.\n\nThe question may now be asked, Why should we not utilize to this end the\nordinary studies of the school curriculum--history, geography,\narithmetic, etc.? All of these branches exercise and develop the faculty\nof serial and complex thinking. Any sum in multiplication gives a\ntraining of this kind. Let the task be to multiply a multiplicand of\nfour figures by a multiplier of three. First the child must multiply\nevery figure in the multiplicand by the units of the multiplier and\nwrite down the result; then by the tens, and then by the hundreds, and\ncombine these results. Here is a lesson in combination, in serial, and,\nfor a young child, somewhat complex thinking. Let the task be to bound\nthe State of New York. The child must see the mental picture of the\nState in its relation to other States and parts of States, to lakes and\nrivers and mountains--a complex group of ideas. Or, let it be required\nto give a brief account of the American Revolution. Here is a whole\nseries of events, each depending on the preceding ones. Why, then, may\nwe not content ourselves with utilizing the ordinary studies of the\nschool curriculum? There are two reasons.\n\nFirst, because history, geography, and arithmetic are not, as a rule,\ninteresting to young children, especially not to young children of the\nclass with which we are now dealing. These listless minds are not easily\nroused to an interest in abstractions. Secondly, it is a notorious fact\nthat intellectual culture, pure and simple, is quite consistent with\nweakness of the will. A person may have very high intellectual\nattainments, and yet be morally deficient. I need hardly warn my\nreflective hearers that, when emphasizing the importance for the will of\nintellectual culture, I had in mind the intellectual process as applied\nto acts. To cultivate the intellect in its own sphere of contemplation\nand abstraction, apart from action, may leave the will precisely as\nfeeble as it was before.\n\nAnd now, all that has been said thus far converges upon the point that\nhas been in view from the beginning--the importance of manual training\nas an element in disciplining the will. Manual training fulfills the\nconditions I have just alluded to. It is interesting to the young, as\nhistory, geography, and arithmetic often are not. Precisely those pupils\nwho take the least interest or show the least aptitude for literary\nstudy are often the most proficient in the workshop and the\nmodeling-room. Nature has not left these neglected children without\nbeautiful compensations. If they are deficient in intellectual power,\nthey are all the more capable of being developed on their active side.\nThus, manual training fulfills the one essential condition--it is\ninteresting. It also fulfills the second. By manual training we\ncultivate the intellect in close connection with action. Manual training\nconsists of a series of actions which are controlled by the mind, and\nwhich react on it. Let the task assigned be, for instance, the making of\na wooden box. The first point to be gained is to attract the attention\nof the pupil to the task. A wooden box is interesting to a child, hence\nthis first point will be gained. Lethargy is overcome, attention is\naroused. Next, it is important to keep the attention fixed on the task:\nthus only can tenacity of purpose be cultivated. Manual training enables\nus to keep the attention of the child fixed upon the object of study,\nbecause the latter is concrete. Furthermore, the variety of occupations\nwhich enter into the making of the box constantly refreshes this\ninterest after it has once been started. The wood must be sawed to line.\nThe boards must be carefully planed and smoothed. The joints must be\naccurately worked out and fitted. The lid must be attached with hinges.\nThe box must be painted or varnished. Here is a sequence of means\nleading to an end, a series of operations all pointing to a final object\nto be gained, to be created. Again, each of these means becomes in turn\nand for the time being a secondary end; and the pupil thus learns, in an\nelementary way, the lesson of subordinating minor ends to a major end.\nAnd, when finally the task is done, when the box stands before the boy's\neyes a complete whole, a serviceable thing, sightly to the eyes, well\nadapted to its uses, with what a glow of triumph does he contemplate his\nwork! The pleasure of achievement now comes in to crown his labor; and\nthis sense of achievement, in connection with the work done, leaves in\nhis mind a pleasant after-taste, which will stimulate him to similar\nwork in the future. The child that has once acquired, in connection with\nthe making of a box, the habits just described, has begun to master the\nsecret of a strong will, and will be able to apply the same habits in\nother directions and on other occasions.\n\nOr let the task be an artistic one. And let me here say that manual\ntraining is incomplete unless it covers art training. Many otherwise\nexcellent and interesting experiments in manual training fail to give\nsatisfaction because they do not include this element. The useful must\nflower into the beautiful, to be in the highest sense useful. Nor is it\nnecessary to remind those who have given attention to the subject of\neducation how important is the influence of the beautiful is in\nrefining the sentiments and elevating the nature of the young. Let the\ntask, then, be to model a leaf, a vase, a hand, a head. Here again we\nbehold the same advantages as in the making of the box. The object is\nconcrete, and therefore suitable for minds incapable of grasping\nabstractions. The object can be constantly kept before the pupil's eyes.\nThere is gradual approximation toward completeness, and at last that\nglow of triumph! What child is not happy if he has produced something\ntangible, something that is the outgrowth of his own activity,\nespecially if it be something which is charming to every beholder?\n\nAnd now let me briefly summarize certain conclusions to which reflection\nhas led me in regard to the subject of manual training in reformatory\ninstitutions. Manual training should be introduced into every\nreformatory. In New York city we have tested a system of work-shop\nlessons for children between six and fourteen. There is, I am persuaded,\nno reason why manual training should not be applied to the youngest\nchildren in reformatories. Manual training should always include art\ntraining. The labor of the children of reformatories should never be let\nto contractors. I heartily agree with what was said on that subject this\nmorning. The pupils of reformatories should never make heads of pins or\nthe ninetieth fraction of a shoe. Let there be no machine work. Let the\npupils turn out complete articles, for only thus can the full\nintellectual and moral benefits of manual training be reaped.\nAgriculture, wherever the opportunities are favorable, offers, on the\nwhole, the same advantages as manual training, and should be employed\nif possible, in connection with it.\n\nI have thus far attempted to show how the will can be made strong. But a\nstrong will is not necessarily a good will. It is true, there are\ninfluences in manual training, as it has been described, which are\nfavorable to a virtuous disposition. Squareness in things is not without\nrelation to squareness in action and in thinking. A child that has\nlearned to be exact--that is, truthful--in his work will be predisposed\nto be scrupulous and truthful in his speech, in his thought, in his\nacts. The refining and elevating influence of artistic work I have\nalready mentioned. But, along with and over and above all these\ninfluences, I need hardly say to you that, in the remarks which I have\noffered this evening, I have all along taken for granted the continued\napplication of those tried and excellent methods which prevail in our\nbest reformatories. I have taken for granted that isolation from\nsociety, which shuts out temptation; that routine of institutional life,\nwhich induces regularity of habit; that strict surveillance of the whole\nbody of inmates and of every individual, which prevents excesses of the\npassions, and therefore starves them into disuse. I have taken for\ngranted the cultivation of the emotions, the importance of which I am\nthe last to undervalue. I have taken for granted the influence of good\nexample, good literature, good music, poetry, and religion. All I have\nintended to urge is that between good feeling and the realization of\ngood feeling there exists, in persons whose will-power is weak, a\nhiatus, and that manual training is admirably adapted to fill that\nhiatus.\n\nThere is another advantage to be noted in connection with manual\ntraining--namely, that it develops the property sense. What, after all,\napart from artificial social convention, is the foundation of the right\nof property? On what basis does it rest? I have a proprietary right in\nmy own thoughts. I have a right to follow my tastes in the adornment of\nmy person and my house. I have a right to the whole sphere of my\nindividuality, my selfhood; and I have a right in _things_ so far as I\nuse them to express my personality. The child that has made a wooden box\nhas put a part of himself into the making of that box--his thought, his\npatience, his skill, his toil--and therefore the child feels that that\nbox is in a certain sense his own. And as only those who have the sense\nof ownership are likely to respect the right of ownership in others, we\nmay by manual training cultivate the property sense of the child; and\nthis, in the case of the delinquent child, it will be admitted, is no\nsmall advantage.\n\nI have confined myself till now to speaking of the importance of manual\ntraining in its influence on the character of delinquent children. I\nwish to add a few words touching the influence of manual training on\ncharacter in general, and its importance for children of all classes of\nsociety. I need not here speak of the value of manual training to the\nartisan class. That has been amply demonstrated of late by the many\ntechnical and art schools which the leading manufacturing nations of\nEurope have established and are establishing. I need not speak of the\nvalue of manual training to the future surgeon, dentist, scientist, and\nto all those who require deftness of hand in the pursuit of their\nvocations. But I do wish to speak of the value of manual training to the\nfuture lawyer and clergyman, and to all those who will perhaps never be\ncalled upon to labor with their hands. Precisely because they will not\nlabor with their hands is manual training so important for them--in the\ninterest of an all-round culture--in order that they may not be entirely\ncrippled on one side of their nature. The Greek legend says that the\ngiant Antaeus was invincible so long as his feet were planted on the\nsolid earth. We need to have a care that our civilization shall remain\nplanted on the solid earth. There is danger lest it may be developed too\nmuch into the air--that we may become too much separated from those\nprimal sources of strength from which mankind has always drawn its\nvitality. The English nobility have deliberately adopted hunting as\ntheir favorite pastime. They follow as a matter of physical exercise, in\norder to keep up their physical strength, a pursuit which the savage man\nfollowed from necessity. The introduction of athletics in colleges is a\nmove in the same direction. But it is not sufficient to maintain our\nphysical strength, our brute strength, the strength of limb and muscle.\nWe must also preserve that spiritualized strength which we call\nskill--the tool-using faculty, the power of impressing on matter the\nstamp of mind. And the more machinery takes the place of human labor,\nthe more necessary will it be to resort to manual training as a means of\nkeeping up skill, precisely as we have resorted to athletics as a means\nof keeping up strength.\n\nThere is one word more I have to say in closing. Twenty-five years ago,\nas the recent memories of Gettysburg recall to us, we fought to keep\nthis people a united nation. Then was State arrayed against State.\nTo-day class is beginning to be arrayed against class. The danger is not\nyet imminent, but it is sufficiently great to give us thought. The chief\nsource of the danger, I think, lies in this, that the two classes of\nsociety have become so widely separated by difference of interests and\npursuits that they no longer fully understand one another, and\nmisunderstanding is the fruitful source of hatred and dissension. This\nmust not continue. The manual laborer must have time and opportunity for\nintellectual improvement. The intellectual classes, on the other hand,\nmust learn manual labor; and this they can best do in early youth, in\nthe school, before the differentiation of pursuits has yet begun. Our\ncommon schools are rightly so named. The justification of their support\nby the State is not, I think, as is sometimes argued, that the State\nshould give a sufficient education to each voter to enable him at least\nto read the ballot which he deposits. This is but a poor equipment for\ncitizenship at best. The justification for the existence of our common\nschools lies rather in the bond of common feeling which they create\nbetween the different classes of society. And it is this bond of common\nfeeling woven in childhood that has kept and must keep us a united\npeople. Let manual training, therefore, be introduced into the common\nschools; let the son of the rich man learn, side by side with the son of\nthe poor man, to labor with his hands; let him thus practically learn to\nrespect labor; let him learn to understand what the dignity of manual\nlabor really means, and the two classes of society, united at the root,\nwill never thereafter entirely grow asunder.\n\nA short time ago I spent an afternoon with a poet whose fame is familiar\nto all. There was present in the company a gentleman of large means,\nwho, in the course of conversation, descanted upon the merits of the\nprotective system, and spoke in glowing terms of the growth of the\nindustries of his State and of the immense wealth which is being\naccumulated in its large cities. The aged poet turned to him, and said:\n\"That is all very well. I like your industries and your factories and\nyour wealth; but, tell me, do they turn out men down your way?\" That is\nthe question which we are bound to consider. _Is this civilization of\nours turning out men_--manly men and womanly women? Now, it is a\ncheering and encouraging thought that technical labor, which is the\nsource of our material aggrandizement, may also become, when employed in\nthe education of the young, the means of enlarging their manhood,\nquickening their intellect, and strengthening their character.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[23] An address delivered before the National Conference of Charities\nand Correction, at Buffalo, July, 1888.\n\n\n\n\nD. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.\n\nMISCELLANEOUS WORKS OF HERBERT SPENCER.\n\n\n_EDUCATION: Intellectual, Moral, and Physical._ 12mo. Paper, 50 cents;\ncloth, $1.25.\n\n     CONTENTS: What Knowledge is of most Worth?--Intellectual\n     Education.--Moral Education.--Physical Education.\n\n\n_SOCIAL STATICS._ By HERBERT SPENCER. New and revised edition, including\n\"The Man _versus_ the State,\" a series of essays on political tendencies\nheretofore published separately. 12mo. 420 pages. Cloth, $2.00.\n\n     Having been much annoyed by the persistent quotation from the old\n     edition of \"Social Statics,\" in the face of repeated warnings, of\n     views which he had abandoned, and by the misquotation of others\n     which he still holds, Mr. Spencer some ten years ago stopped the\n     sale of the book in England and prohibited its translation. But the\n     rapid spread of communistic theories gave new life to these\n     misrepresentations; hence Mr. Spencer decided to delay no longer a\n     statement of his mature opinions on the rights of individuals and\n     the duty of the state.\n\n     CONTENTS: Happiness as an Immediate Aim.--Unguided Expediency.--The\n     Moral-Sense Doctrine.--What is Morality?--The Evanescence\n     [? Diminution] of Evil.--Greatest Happiness must be sought\n     indirectly.--Derivation of a First Principle.--Secondary Derivation\n     of a First Principle.--First Principle.--Application of this First\n     Principle.--The Right of Property.--Socialism.--The Right of\n     Property in Ideas.--The Rights of Women.--The Rights of\n     Children.--Political Rights.--The Constitution of the State.--The\n     Duty of the State.--The Limit of State-Duty.--The Regulation of\n     Commerce.--Religious Establishments.--Poor-Laws.--National\n     Education.--Government Colonization.--Sanitary\n     Supervision.--Currency Postal Arrangements, etc.--General\n     Considerations.--The New Toryism.--The Coming Slavery.--The Sins of\n     Legislators.--The Great Political Superstition.\n\n\n_THE STUDY OF SOCIOLOGY._ The fifth volume in the International\nScientific Series. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.\n\n     CONTENTS: Our Need of it--Is there a Social Science?--Nature of the\n     Social Science.--Difficulties of the Social Science.--Objective\n     Difficulties.--Subjective Difficulties, Intellectual.--Subjective\n     Difficulties, Emotional.--The Educational Bias--The Bias of\n     Patriotism.--The Class-Bias.--The Political Bias.--The Theological\n     Bias.--Discipline.--Preparation in Biology.--Preparation in\n     Psychology.--Conclusion.\n\n\nNew York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.\n\n\n     \"This work marks an epoch in the history-writing of this\n     country.\"--_St. Louis Post-Dispatch._\n\n[Illustration: COLONIAL COURT-HOUSE. PHILADELPHIA, 1707.]\n\n_THE HOUSEHOLD HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES AND ITS PEOPLE._ FOR YOUNG\nAMERICANS. By EDWARD EGGLESTON. Richly illustrated with 350 Drawings, 75\nMaps, etc. Square 8vo. Cloth, $2.50.\n\n\n_FROM THE PREFACE._\n\nThe present work is meant, in the first instance, for the young--not\nalone for boys and girls, but for young men and women who have yet to\nmake themselves familiar with the more important features of their\ncountry's history. By a book for the young is meant one in which the\nauthor studies to make his statements clear and explicit, in which\ncurious and picturesque details are inserted, and in which the writer\ndoes not neglect such anecdotes as lend the charm of a human and\npersonal interest to the broader facts of the nation's story. That\nhistory is often tiresome to the young is not so much the fault of\nhistory as of a false method of writing by which one contrives to relate\nevents without sympathy or imagination, without narrative connection or\nanimation. The attempt to master vague and general records of kiln-dried\nfacts is certain to beget in the ordinary reader a repulsion from the\nstudy of history--one of the most important of all studies for its\nwidening influence on general culture.\n\n[Illustration: INDIAN'S TRAP.]\n\n     \"Fills a decided gap which has existed for the past twenty years in\n     American historical literature. The work is admirably planned and\n     executed, and will at once take its place as a standard record of\n     the life, growth, and development of the nation. It is profusely\n     and beautifully illustrated.\"--_Boston Transcript._\n\n     \"The book in its new dress makes a much finer appearance than\n     before, and will be welcomed by older readers as gladly as its\n     predecessor was greeted by girls and boys. The lavish use the\n     publishers have made of colored plates, woodcuts, and photographic\n     reproductions, gives an unwonted piquancy to the printed page,\n     catching the eye as surely as the text engages the mind.\"--_New\n     York Critic._\n\n[Illustration: GENERAL PUTNAM.]\n\n     \"The author writes history as a story. It can never be less than\n     that. The book will enlist the interest of young people, enlighten\n     their understanding, and by the glow of its statements fix the\n     great events of the country firmly in the mind.\"--_San Francisco\n     Bulletin._\n\n\nNew York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.","title":"The Moral Instruction of Children","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":70233}