The Moral Instruction of Children
Part 7
We have now considered two groups of fables: those which depict the character of the mighty, and those which treat of the proper policy of the weak. The subject of the third group is, the consolations of the weak. These are, first, that even tyrannical masters are to a certain extent dependent upon their inferiors, and can be punished if they go too far; secondly, that the mighty occasionally come to grief in consequence of dissensions among themselves; thirdly, that fortune is fickle. A lion is caught in the toils, and would perish did not a little mouse come to his aid by gnawing asunder the knots and fastenings. The bear robs the bees of their honey, but is punished and rendered almost desperate by their stings. An eagle carries off the cub of a fox; but the fox, snatching a fire-brand, threatens to set the eagle's nest on fire, and thus forces him to restore her young one. This is evidently a fable of insurrection. The fable of the Viper and the File shows that it is not safe to attack the wrong person--in other words, that tyrants sometimes come to grief by singling out for persecution some one who is strong enough to resist them though they little suspect it. The fable of the four bulls shows the effect of dissensions among the mighty. Four bulls had entered into a close alliance, and agreed to keep always near one another. A lion fomented jealousies among them. The bulls grew distrustful of one another, and at last parted company. The lion had now obtained his end, and seized and devoured them singly. The fickleness of fortune is the theme of the fable of the Horse and the Ass. The horse, richly caparisoned and champing his foaming bridle, insults an ass who moves along under a heavy load. Soon after the horse is wounded, and, being unfit for military service, is sold to a carrier. The ass now taunts the proud animal with his fallen estate. The horse in this fable is the type of many an Eastern vizier, who has basked for a time in the sunshine of a despot's favor only to be suddenly and ignominiously degraded. The ass in the fable represents the people. There remains a fourth group of fables, which satirize certain mean or ridiculous types of characters, such as are apt to appear in social conditions of the kind we have described. Especially do the fables make a target of the folly of those who affect the manners of the aristocratic class, or who try to crowd in where they are not wanted, or who boast of their high connections. The frog puffs himself up so that he may seem as large as the ox, until he bursts. The mouse aspires to marry the young lioness, and is in fact well received; but the young lady inadvertently places her foot on her suitor and crushes him. The jackdaw picks up feathers which have fallen from the peacocks, sticks them among his own, and introduces himself into the assembly of those proud birds. They find him out, strip him of his plumes, and with their sharp bills punish him as he deserves. A fly boasts that he frequents the most distinguished company, and that he is on familiar terms with the king, the priests, and the nobility. Many a time, he says, he has entered the royal chamber, has sat upon the altar, and has even enjoyed the privilege of kissing the lips of the most beautiful maids of honor. "Yes," replies an ant, "but in what capacity are you admitted among all these great people? One and all regard you as a nuisance, and the sooner they can get rid of you the better they are pleased."
Most of the fables which thus far have been mentioned we can not use. The discovery of their Asiatic origin sheds a new, keen light upon their meaning. They breathe, in many cases, a spirit of fear, of abject subserviency, of hopeless pessimism. Can we desire to inoculate the young with this spirit? The question may be asked why fables are so popular with boys. I should say, Because school-boy society reproduces in miniature to a certain extent the social conditions which are reflected in the fables. Among unregenerate school-boys there often exists a kind of despotism, not the less degrading because petty. The strong are pitted against the weak--witness the fagging system in the English schools--and their mutual antagonism produces in both the characteristic vices which we have noted above. The psychological study of school-boy society has been only begun, but even what lies on the surface will, I think, bear out this remark. Now it has come to be one of the commonplaces of educational literature, that the individual of to-day must pass through the same stages of evolution as the human race as a whole. But it should not be forgotten that the advance of civilization depends on two conditions: first, that the course of evolution be accelerated, that the time allowed to the successive stages be shortened; and, secondly, that the unworthy and degrading elements which entered into the process of evolution in the past, and at the time were inseparable from it, be now eliminated. Thus the fairy-tales which correspond to the myth-making epoch in human history must be purged of the dross of superstition which still adheres to them, and the fables which correspond to the age of primitive despotisms must be cleansed of the immoral elements they still embody.
The fables which are fit for use may be divided into two classes: those which give illustrations of evil,[9] the effect of which on the young should be to arouse disapprobation, and those which present types of virtue. The following is a list of some of the principal ones in each category:
_An Instance of Selfishness._ The porcupine having begged for hospitality and having been invited into a nest of snakes, inconveniences the inmates and finally crowds them out. When they remonstrate, he says, "Let those quit the place that do not like it."
_Injustice._ The fable of the Kite and the Wolf, mentioned above.
_Improvidence._ The fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper; also the fable entitled One Swallow does not make Summer, and the fable of the Man who Killed the Goose that laid the Golden Eggs.
_Ingratitude._ The fable of the snake which bit the countryman who had warmed it in his breast.
_Cowardice._ The fable of the Stag and the Fawn, and of the Hares in the Storm.
_Vanity._ The fables of the Peacock and the Crane, and of the Crow who lost his Cheese by listening to the flattery of the fox.
_Contemptuous Self-confidence._ The Hare and the Tortoise.
_The Evil Influence of Bad Company._ The Husbandman and the Stork.
_Cruelty to Animals._ The Fowler and the Ringdove; the Hawk and the Pigeons.
_Greediness._ The Dog and the Shadow.
_Lying._ The fable of the boy who cried "Wolf!"
_Bragging._ The fable of the Ass in the Lion's Skin.
_Deceit._ The fable of the Fox without a Tail.
_Disingenuousness._ The fable of the Sour Grapes.
_A Discontented Spirit._ The fable of the Peacock's Complaint.
_Equal Graces are not given to all._ The fable of the Ass who leaped into his Master's Lap.
_Borrowed Plumes._ The fable of the Jackdaw and the Peacocks, mentioned above.
_Malice._ The fable of the Dog in the Manger, who would not eat, neither let others eat.
_Breaking Faith._ The fable of the Traveler and the Bear.
_To Fan Animosity is even Worse than to Quarrel._ The fable of the Trumpeter.
The value of these fables, as has been said, consists in the reaction which they call forth in the minds of the pupils. Sometimes this reaction finds expression in the fable itself; sometimes the particular vice is merely depicted in its nakedness, and it becomes the business of the teacher distinctly to evoke the feeling of disapprobation, and to have it expressly stated in words. The words tend to fix the feeling. Often, when a child has committed some fault, it is useful to refer by name to the fable that fits it. As, when a boy has made room in his seat for another, and the other crowds him out, the mere mention of the fable of the Porcupine is a telling rebuke; or the fable of the Hawk and the Pigeons may be called to mind when a boy has been guilty of mean excuses. On the same principle that angry children are sometimes taken before a mirror to show them how ugly they look. The fable is a kind of mirror for the vices of the young.
Of the fables that illustrate virtuous conduct, I mention that of Hercules and the Cart-driver, which teaches self-reliance. Hercules helps the driver as soon as the latter has put his own shoulders to the wheel. Also the fable of the Lark. So long as the farmer depends on his neighbors, or his kinsmen, the lark is not afraid; but when he proposes to buckle to himself, she advises her young that it is time to seek another field. The fable of the Wind and the Sun shows that kindness succeeds where rough treatment would fail. The fable of the Bundle of Sticks exemplifies the value of harmony. The fable of the Wolf, whom the dog tries to induce to enter civilization, expresses the sentiment that lean liberty is to be preferred to pampered servitude. The fable of the Old Hound teaches regard for old servants. Finally, the fable of the Horse and the Loaded Ass, and of the Dove and the Ant, show that kindness pays on selfish principles. The horse refuses to share the ass's burden; the ass falls dead under his load; in consequence, the horse has to bear the whole of it. On the other hand the dove rescues the ant from drowning, and the ant in turn saves the dove from the fowler's net.
The last remark throws light on the point of view from which the fables contemplate good and evil. It is to be noted that a really moral spirit is wanting in them; the moral motives are not appealed to. The appeal throughout is to the bare motive of self-interest. Do not lie, because you will be found out, and will be left in the lurch when you depend for help on the confidence of others. Do not indulge in vanity, because you will make yourself ridiculous. Do not try to appear like a lion when you can not support the character, because people will find out that you are only an ass. Do not act ungratefully, because you will be thrust out of doors. Even when good conduct is inculcated, it is on the ground that it pays. Be self-reliant, because if you help yourself others will help you. Be kind, because by gentle means you can gain your purpose better than by harshness. Agree with your neighbors, because you can then, like the bundle of sticks, resist aggression from without. That lying is wrong on principle; that greediness is shameful, whether you lose your cheese or not; that kindness is blessed, even when it does not bring a material reward; that it is lovely for neighbors to dwell together in peace, is nowhere indicated. The beauty and the holiness of right conduct lie utterly beyond the horizon of the fable. Nevertheless, as we have seen when speaking of the efficient motives of conduct, self-interest as a motive should not be underrated, but should be allowed the influence which belongs to it as an auxiliary to the moral motive. It is well, it is necessary, for children to learn that lying, besides being in itself disgraceful, does also entail penalties of a palpable sort; that vanity and self-conceit, besides being immoral, are also punished by the contempt of one's fellows; that those who are unkind, as the horse was to the ass, may have to bear the ass's burden. The checks and curbs supplied by such considerations as these serve the purpose of strengthening the weak conscience of the young, and are not to be dispensed with, provided always they are treated not as substitutes for but as auxiliaries to the moral motives, properly speaking.
As to the place in the primary course which I have assigned to the fables, I have the following remark to offer: In speaking of fairy tales, it was stated that the moral element should be touched on incidentally, and that it should not be separated from the other, the naturalistic elements. The pedagogical reason which leads me to assign to the fables the second place in the course, is that each fable deals exclusively with one moral quality, which is thus isolated and held up to be contemplated. In the stories which will occupy the third place a number of moral qualities are presented in combination. We have, therefore, what seems to be a logical and progressive order--first, fairy tales in which the moral is still blended with other elements; secondly, a single moral quality set off by itself; then, a combination of such qualities.
The peculiar value of the fables is that they are instantaneous photographs, which reproduce, as it were, in a single flash of light, some one aspect of human nature, and which, excluding everything else, permit the entire attention to be fixed on that one.
As to the method of handling them, I should say to the teacher: Relate the fable; let the pupil repeat it in his own words, making sure that the essential points are stated correctly. By means of questions elicit a clean-cut expression of the point which the fable illustrates; then ask the pupil to give out of his experience other instances illustrating the same point. This is precisely the method pursued in the so-called primary object lessons. The child, for instance, having been shown a red ball, is asked to state the color of the ball, and then to name other objects of the same color; or to give the shape of the ball, and then to name other objects having the same shape. In like manner, when the pupil has heard the fable of the Fox and the Wolf, and has gathered from it that compassion when expressed merely in words is useless, and that it must lead to deeds to be really praiseworthy, it will be easy for him out of his own experience to multiply instances which illustrate the same truth. The search for instances makes the point of the fable clearer, while the expression of the thought in precise language, on which the teacher should always insist, tends to drive it home. It will be our aim in the present course of lectures to apply the methods of object teaching, now generally adopted in other branches, to the earliest moral instruction of children--an undertaking, of course, not without difficulties.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] Buddhist Birth Stories; or Jataka Tales, translated by T. W. Rhys Davids.
[9] I remarked above that fables should be excluded if the moral they inculcate is bad, not if they depict what is bad. In the latter case they often may serve a useful purpose.
VIII.
SUPPLEMENTARY REMARKS ON FABLES.
Apart from the collection which figures under the name of Æsop, there are other fables, notably the so-called Jataka tales, which deserve attention. The Jataka tales contain deep truths, and are calculated to impress lessons of great moral beauty. The tale of the Merchant of Seri, who gave up all that he had in exchange for a golden dish, embodies much the same idea as the parable of the Priceless Pearl, in the New Testament. The tale of the Measures of Rice illustrates the importance of a true estimate of values. The tale of the Banyan Deer, which offered its life to save a roe and her young, illustrates self-sacrifice of the noblest sort. The Kulavaka-Jataka contains the thought that a forgiving spirit toward one's enemies disarms even the evil-minded. The tale of the Partridge, the Monkey, and the Elephant teaches that the best seats belong not to the nobles or the priests, to the rich or the learned, not even to the most pious, but that reverence and service and respect and civility are to be paid according to age, and for the aged the best seat, the best water, the best rice, are to be reserved. The tale of Nanda, or the Buried Gold, is a rebuke to that base insolence which vulgar natures often exhibit when they possess a temporary advantage. The tale of the Sandy Road is one of the finest in the collection. It pictures to us a caravan wandering through the desert under the starlight. The guide, whose duty it was to pilot them through this sea of sand, has, it appears, fallen asleep at his post from excessive weariness, and at dawn the travelers discover that they have gone astray, and that far and wide no water is in sight wherewith to quench their burning thirst. At this moment, however, the leader espies a small tuft of grass on the face of the desert, and, reasoning that water must be flowing somewhere underneath, inspires his exhausted followers to new exertions. A hole sixty feet deep is dug under his direction, but at length they come upon hard rock, and can dig no farther. But even then he does not yield to despair. Leaping down, he applies his ear to the rock. Surely, it is water that he hears gurgling underneath! One more effort, he cries, and we are saved! But of all his followers one only had strength or courage enough left to obey. This one strikes a heavy blow, the rock is split open, and lo! the living water gushes upward in a flood. The lesson is that of perseverance and presence of mind in desperate circumstances. The tale entitled Holding to the Truth narrates the sad fate of a merchant who suffered himself to be deceived by a mirage into the belief that water was near, and emptied the jars which he carried with him in order to reach the pleasant land the sooner. The Jataka entitled On True Divinity contains a very beautiful story about three brothers, the Sun prince, the Moon prince, and the future Buddha or Bodisat. The king, their father, expelled the Moon prince and the future Buddha in order to secure the succession to the Sun prince alone. But the Sun prince could not bear to be separated from his brothers, and secretly followed them into exile. They journeyed together until they came to a certain lake. This lake was inhabited by an evil spirit, to whom power had been given to destroy all who entered his territory unless they could redeem their lives by answering the question, "What is truly divine?" So the Sun prince was asked first, and he answered, "The sun and the moon and the gods are divine." But that not being the correct answer, the evil spirit seized and imprisoned him in his cave. Then the Moon prince was asked, and he answered, "The far-spreading sky is called divine." But he, too, was carried away to the same place to be destroyed. Then the future Buddha was asked, and he answered: "Give ear, then, attentively, and hear what divine nature is;" and he uttered the words--
"The pure in heart who fear to sin, The good, kindly in word and deed, These are the beings in the world Whose nature should be called divine."
And when the evil spirit heard these words, he bowed, and said: "I will give up to you one of your brothers." Then the future Buddha said, "Give me the life of my brother, the Sun prince, for it is on his account that we have been driven away from our home and thrust into exile." The evil spirit was overcome by this act of generosity, and said, "Verily, O teacher, thou not only knowest what is divine, but hast acted divinely." And he gave him the life of both his brothers, the Sun prince as well as the Moon prince.
I could not resist the temptation of relating a few of these tales. They are, as every one must admit, nobly conceived, lofty in meaning, and many a helpful sermon might be preached from them as texts. But, of course, not all are fit to be used in a primary course. Some of them are, some are not. The teacher will have no difficulty in making the right selection. To the former class belongs also No. 28 of the collection,[10] which is excellently adapted to impress the lesson of kindness to animals. Long ago the Buddha came to life in the shape of a powerful bull. His master, a Brahman, asserted that this bull of his could move a hundred loaded carts ranged in a row and bound together. Being challenged to prove his assertion, he bathed the bull, gave him scented rice, hung a garland of flowers around his neck, and yoked him to the first cart. Then he raised his whip and called out, "Gee up, you brute. Drag them along, you wretch!" The bull said to himself, "He calls me wretch; I am no wretch." And keeping his forelegs as firm as steel, he stood perfectly still. Thereupon the Brahman, his master, was compelled to pay a forfeit of a thousand pieces of gold because he had not made good his boast. After a while the bull said to the Brahman, who seemed very much dispirited: "Brahman, I have lived a long time in your house. Have I ever broken any pots, or have I rubbed against the walls, or have I made the walks around the premises unclean?" "Never, my dear," said the Brahman. "Then why did you call me wretch? But if you will never call me wretch again, you shall have two thousand pieces for the one thousand you have lost." The Brahman, hearing this, called his neighbors together, set up one hundred loaded carts as before, then seated himself on the pole, stroked the bull on the back, and called out, "Gee up, my beauty! Drag them along, my beauty!" And the bull, with a mighty effort, dragged along the whole hundred carts, heavily loaded though they were. The bystanders were greatly astonished, and the Brahman received two thousand pieces on account of the wonderful feat performed by the bull.
The 30th Jataka corresponds to the fable of the Ox and the Calf in the Æsop collection. The 33d, like the fable of the Bundle of Sticks, teaches the lesson of unity, but in a form a little nearer to the understanding of children. Long ago, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the future Buddha came to life as a quail. At that time there was a fowler who used to go to the place where the quails dwelt and imitate their cry; and when they had assembled, he would throw his net over them. But the Buddha said to the quails: "In future, as soon as he has thrown the net over us, let each thrust his head through a mesh of the net, then all lift it together, carry it off to some bush, and escape from underneath it." And they did so and were saved. But one day a quail trod unawares on the head of another, and a disgraceful quarrel ensued. The next time the fowler threw his net over them, each of the quails pretended that the others were leaving him to bear the greatest strain, and cried out, "You others begin, and then I will help." The consequence was that no one began, and the net was not raised, and the fowler bagged them all. The 26th Jataka enforces the truth that evil communications corrupt good manners, and contains more particularly a warning against listening to the conversation of wicked people. Thus much concerning the Jataka tales.