But why is knowledge so desirable? With this interrogatory we are fairly launched on the discussion of our subject. The points to be developed are these:

First, knowledge is indispensable as a means of making one's way in the world. Show the helplessness of the ignorant. Compare the skilled laborer with the unskilled. Give instances of merchants, statesmen, etc., whose success was due to steady application and superior knowledge. Knowledge is power (namely, in the struggle for existence).

Secondly, knowledge is honor. An ignorant person is despised. Knowledge wins us the esteem of our fellow-men.

Thirdly, knowledge is joy in a twofold sense. As the perception of light to the eye of the body, so is the perception of truth to the eye of the mind. The mind experiences an intrinsic pleasure in seeing things in their true relations. Furthermore, mental growth is accompanied by the joy of successful effort. This can be explained even to a boy or girl of thirteen. Have you ever tried hard to solve a problem in algebra?

Perhaps you have spent several hours over it. It has baffled you. At last, after repeated trials, you see your way clear, the solution is within your grasp. What a sense of satisfaction you experience then. It is the feeling of successful mental effort that gives you this satisfaction. You rejoice in having triumphed over difficulties, and the greater the difficulty, the more baffling and complex the problems, the greater is the satisfaction in solving them.

Fourthly, knowledge enables us to do good to others. Speak of the use which physicians make of their scientific training to alleviate suffering and save life. Refer to the manifold applications of science which have changed the face of modern society, and have contributed so largely to the moral progress of the world. Point out that all true philanthropy, every great social reform, implies a superior grasp of the problems to be solved, as well as devotion to the cause of humanity. In accordance with the line of argument just sketched the rule for the pursuit of knowledge may be successively expanded as follows:

Seek knowledge that you may succeed in the struggle for existence.

Seek knowledge that you may gain the esteem of your fellow-men.

Seek knowledge for the sake of the satisfaction which the attainment of it will give you.

Seek knowledge that you may be able to do good to others.

These points suffice for the present. In the advanced course we shall return to the consideration of the intellectual duties. I would also recommend that the moral teacher, not content with dwelling on the uses of knowledge in general, should go through the list of subjects which are commonly taught in school, such as geography, history, language, etc., and explain the value of each. This is too commonly neglected.

Having stationed the duty of acquiring knowledge in the center, connect with it the various lesser duties of school life, such as punctual attendance, order, diligent and conscientious preparation of home lessons, etc. These are means to an end, and should be represented as such. He who desires the end will desire the means. Get your pupils to love knowledge, and the practice of these minor virtues will follow of itself. Other matters might be introduced in connection with what has been mentioned, but enough has been said to indicate the point of view from which the whole subject of intellectual duty should, as I think, be treated in the present course.

XII.

DUTIES WHICH RELATE TO THE PHYSICAL LIFE.

Of the duties which relate to the physical life, the princ.i.p.al one is that of self-preservation, and this involves the prohibition of suicide.

When one reflects on the abject life which many persons are forced to lead, on their poverty in the things which make existence desirable and the lack of moral stamina which often goes together with such conditions, the wonder is that the number of suicides is not much greater than it actually is. It is true most people cling to life instinctively, and have an instinctive horror of death. Nevertheless, the force of instinct is by no means a sufficient deterrent in all cases, and the number of suicides is just now alarmingly on the increase. If we were here considering the subject of suicide in general we should have to enter at large into the causes of this increase; we should have to examine the relations subsisting between the increase of suicide and the increase of divorce, and inquire into those pathological conditions of modern society of which both are the symptoms; but our business is to consider the ethics of the matter, not the causes. The ethics of suicide resolves itself into the question, Is it justifiable under any circ.u.mstances to take one's life? You may object that this is not a fit subject to discuss with pupils of thirteen or fourteen. Why not? They are old enough to understand the motives which ordinarily lead to suicide, and also the reasons which forbid it--especially the most important reason, namely, that we live not merely or primarily to be happy, but to help on as far as we can the progress of things, and therefore that we are not at liberty to throw life away like an empty sh.e.l.l when we have ceased to enjoy it. The discussion of suicide is indeed of the greatest use because it affords an opportunity early in the course of our lessons on duty to impress this cardinal truth, to describe upon the moral globe this great meridian from which all the virtues take their bearings. However, in accordance with the inductive method, we must approach this idea by degrees. The first position I should take is that while suffering is often temporary, suicide is final. It is folly to take precipitately a step which can not be recalled. Very often in moments of deep depression the future before us seems utterly dark, and in our firmament there appears not one star of hope; but presently from some wholly unexpected quarter help comes.

Fortune once more takes us into her good graces, and we are scarcely able to understand our past downheartedness in view of the new happiness to which we have fallen heirs. Preserve thy life in view of the brighter chances which the future may have in store. This is a good rule as far as it goes, but it does not fit the more trying situations. For there are cases where the fall from the heights of happiness is as complete as it is sudden, and the hope of recovering lost ground is really shut out.

Take from actual life the case of a husband who fairly idolized his young wife and lost her by death three months after marriage. We may suppose that in the course of years he will learn to submit to his destiny. We may even hope that peace will come back to his poor heart, but we can not imagine that he will ever again be happy. Another case is that of a person who has committed a great wrong, the consequences of which are irreparable, and of which he must carry the agonizing recollection with him to the grave. Time may a.s.suage the pangs of remorse, and religion may comfort him, but happiness can never be the portion of such as he.

Still another instance--less serious, but of more frequent occurrence--is that of a merchant who has always occupied a commanding position in the mercantile community, and who, already advanced in years, is suddenly compelled to face bankruptcy. The thought of the hardships to which his family will be exposed, of his impending disgrace, drives him nearly to distraction. The question is, would the merchant, would those others, be justified in committing suicide?

Certainly not. The merchant, if he has the stuff of true manhood in him, will begin over again, at the bottom of the ladder if need be, will work to support his family, however narrowly. It would be the rankest selfishness in him to leave them to their fate. The conscience-stricken sinner must be willing to pay the penalty of his crime, to the end that he may be purified even seven times in the fire of repentance. And even the lover who has lost his bride will find, if he opens his eyes, that there is still work for him to do in life. The world is full of evils which require to be removed, full of burdens which require to be borne.

If our own burden seems too heavy for us, there is a way of lightening it. We may add to it the burden of some one else, and ours will become lighter. Physically, this would be impossible, but morally it is true.

The rule of conduct, therefore, thus far reads, Preserve thy life in order to perform thy share of the work of the world. But the formula, even in this shape, is not yet entirely adequate, for there are those who can not take part in the work of the world, who can only suffer--invalids, e. g., who are permanently incapacitated, and whose infirmities make them a constant drag on the healthy lives of their friends. Why should not these be permitted to put an end to their miseries? I should say that so long as there is the slightest hope of recovery, and even where this hope is wanting, so long as the physical pain is not so intense or so protracted as to paralyze the mental life altogether, they should hold out. They are not cut off from the true ends of human existence. By patient endurance, by the exercise of a sublime unselfishness, they may even attain on their sick-beds a height of spiritual development which would otherwise be impossible; and, in addition, they may become by their uncomplaining patience the sweetest, gentlest helpers of their friends, not useless, a.s.suredly, but shining examples of what is best and n.o.blest in human nature. The rule, therefore, should read: Preserve thy life in order to fulfill the duties of life, whether those duties consist in doing or in patiently suffering. As has been said long ago, we are placed on guard as sentinels. The sentinel must not desert his post. I think it possible to make the pupil in the grammar grade understand that suicide is selfish, that we are bound to live, even though life has ceased to be attractive, in order that we may perform our share of the world's work and help others and grow ourselves in moral stature. This does not, of course, imply any condemnation of that vast number of cases in which suicide is committed in consequence of mental aberration.

In the advanced course we shall have to return to this subject, and shall there refer _in extenso_ to the views of the Stoics. The morality of the Stoic philosophers in general is so high, and their influence even to this day so great, that their defense, or rather enthusiastic praise of suicide,[16] needs to be carefully examined. I am of the opinion that we have here a case in which metaphysical speculation has had the effect of distorting morality. Metaphysics in this respect resembles religion. On the one hand the influence of religion on morality has been highly beneficial, on the other it has been hurtful in the extreme--instance human sacrifices, religious wars, the Inquisition, etc. In like manner, philosophy, though not to the same extent, has both aided morality and injured it. I regard the Stoic declamations on suicide as an instance of the latter sort. The Stoic philosophy was pantheistic. To live according to Nature was their princ.i.p.al maxim, or, more precisely, according to the reason in Nature.

They maintained that in certain circ.u.mstances a man might find it impossible to live up to the rational standard; he might, for instance, discover himself to be morally so weak as to be unable to resist temptation, and in that case it would be better for him to retire from the scene and to seek shelter in the Eternal Reason, just as, to use their own simile, one who found the room in which he sat filled to an intolerable degree with smoke would not be blamed for withdrawing from it. It was their pantheism that led them to favor suicide, and in this respect it is my belief that the modern conscience, trained by the Old and New Testaments, has risen to a higher level than theirs. We moderns feel it impossible to admit that to the sane mind temptation can ever be so strong as to be truly irresistible. We always can resist if we will.

We can, because we ought; as Kant has taught us to put it. We always can because we always ought.

NOTE.--Despite the rigorous disallowance of suicide in general plainly indicated in the above, I should not wish to be understood as saying that there are no circ.u.mstances whatever in which the taking of one's life is permissible. In certain rare and exceptional cases I believe it to be so. In the lecture as delivered I attempted a brief description of these exceptional cases, too brief, it appeared, to prevent most serious misconception. I deem it best, therefore, to defer the expression of my views on this delicate matter until an occasion arrives when I shall be able to articulate my thought in full detail, such as would here be impossible.

From the commandment "Preserve thy life" it follows not only that we should not lay violent hands upon ourselves, but that we should do all in our power to develop and invigorate the body, in order that it may become an efficient instrument in the service of our higher aims. The teacher should inform himself on the subject of the gymnastic ideal of the Greeks and consider in how far this ideal is applicable to modern conditions. In general, the teacher should explore as fully as possible the ethical problems on which he touches. He should not be merely "one lesson ahead" of his pupils. Really it is necessary to grasp the whole of a subject before we can properly set forth its elements. A very thorough normal training is indispensable to those who would give moral instruction to the young.

The duties of cleanliness and temperance fall under the same head as the above. In speaking of cleanliness, there are three motives--the egoistic, the aesthetic, and the moral--to which we may appeal. Be scrupulously clean for the sake of health, be clean lest you become an object of disgust to others, be clean in order to retain your self-respect. Special emphasis should be laid on secret cleanliness.

Indolent children are sometimes neat in externals, but shockingly careless in what is concealed from view. The motive of self-respect shows itself particularly in secret cleanliness.

The duty of temperance is supported by the same three motives.

Intemperance undermines health, the glutton or the drunkard awakens disgust, intemperance destroys self-respect. To strengthen the repugnance of the pupils against intemperance in eating, contrast the way in which wild beasts eat with that in which human beings partake of their food. The beast is absorbed in the gratification of its appet.i.te, eats without the use of implements, eats unsocially. The human way of eating is in each particular the opposite. Show especially that the act of eating is spiritualized by being made subservient to friendly intercourse and to the strengthening of the ties of domestic affection.

The family table becomes the family altar. Call attention also to the effects of drunkenness; point out the injuries which the drunkard inflicts on wife and children by his neglect to provide for them, by the outbursts of violence to which he is subject under the influence of strong drink; describe his physical, mental, and moral degradation; lay stress on the fact that liquor deprives him of the use of his reason.

With respect to temperance in food, there are one or two points to be noted. I say to my pupils if you are particularly fond of a certain dish, sweetmeats, for instance, make it a rule to partake less of that than if you were not so fond of it. This is good practice in self-restraint. I make out as strong a case as possible against the indulgence of the candy habit. Young people are not, as a rule, tempted to indulge in strong drink; but they are tempted to waste their money and injure their health by an excessive consumption of sweets. It is well to apply the lesson of temperance to the things in which they are tempted. For the teacher the following note may be added: Of the senses, some, like that of taste, are more nearly allied to the physical part of us; others, like sight and hearing, to our rational nature. This ant.i.thesis of the senses may be used in the interest of temperance.

Appeal to the higher senses in order to subdue the lower. A band of kindergarten children, having been invited on a picnic, were given the choice between a second plate of ice cream, for which many of them were clamoring, and a bunch of flowers for each. Most of them were sufficiently interested in flowers to prefer the latter. In the case of young children, the force of the physical appet.i.te may also be weakened by appealing to their affection. During the later stage of adolescence, when the dangers which arise from the awakening life of the senses become great and imminent, the attention should be directed to high intellectual aims, the social feelings should be cultivated, and a taste for the pleasures of the senses of sight and hearing--namely, the pleasures of music, painting, sculpture, etc.--should be carefully developed. Artistic, intellectual, and social motives should be brought into play jointly to meet the one great peril of this period of life.

DUTIES WHICH RELATE TO THE FEELINGS.

Under this head let me speak first of fear. There is a distinction to be drawn between physical and moral cowardice. Physical cowardice is a matter of temperament or organization. Perhaps it can hardly ever be entirely overcome, but the exhibition of it can be prevented by moral courage. Moral cowardice, on the other hand, is a fault of character. In attempting to formulate the rule of conduct, appeal as before to the egoistic motive, then to the social--i. e., the desire for the good opinion of others--and lastly to the moral motive, properly speaking.

Fear paralyzes; it fascinates its victim like the fabled basilisk.

Nothing is more common than a sense of helpless immobility under the influence of fear. There is a way of escape. You might run or leap for your life, but you can not stir a limb. What you need to do is to turn away your attention by a powerful effort of the will from the object which excites fear. So long as that object is before you the mind can not act; the mind is practically absent. What you need is presence of mind. Let the teacher adduce some of the many striking instances in which men in apparently desperate straits have been saved by presence of mind. The rule thus far would read: Be brave and suppress fear, because by so doing you may escape out of danger. In the next place, by so doing you will escape the reproaches of your fellow-men, for cowardice is universally condemned as shameful. Cite from Spartan history examples showing in the strongest light the feeling of scorn and contempt for the coward. There are, however, cases where death is certain, and where there is no support like that of public opinion to sustain courage. What should be the rule of duty in such cases? Take the case of a person who has been shipwrecked. He swims the sea alone, he is still clinging to a spar, but realizes that in a few minutes he must let go, his strength being well-nigh spent. What should be his att.i.tude of mind in that supreme moment. The forces of nature are about to overwhelm him. What motive can there be strong enough to support bravery in that moment? The rule of duty for him would be: Be brave, because as a human being you are superior to the forces of nature, because there is something in you--your moral self--over which the forces of nature have no power, because what happens to you in your private character is not important, but it is important that you a.s.sert the dignity of humanity to the last breath.

After having discussed courage, define fort.i.tude. Point out the importance of strength of will. Contrast the strong will with the feeble, with the wayward, the irresolute, and also the obstinate will, for obstinacy is often the sign of weakness rather than of strength.

See, for useful hints on this subject, Bain's The Emotions and the Will.

What happens to thy little self is not important. This is the leading thought which shall also guide us in the discussion of _Anger_. In entering on the subject of anger begin by describing the effects of it.

Quote the pa.s.sage from Seneca's treatise on anger, showing how it disfigures the countenance. Point out that anger provokes anger in return, and is therefore contrary to self-interest. Call to your aid the social motive by showing that under the influence of anger we often overshoot the mark and inflict injuries on others which we had not intended. Finally, show that indulgence in anger is immoral. In what sense is it immoral? Anger is an emotional reaction against injury. When a child hurts its foot against a stone, it is often so unreasonably angry at the stone as to strike it. When an adult person receives a blow, his first impulse is to return it. This desire to return injury for injury is one of the characteristic marks of anger. Another mark is that anger is proportional to the injury received, and not to the fault implied. Every one knows that a slight fault in another may occasion a great injury to ourselves, while, on the other hand, a serious fault may only cause us a slight inconvenience. The angry person measures his resentment by the injury, and not by the fault. Anger is selfish. It is fed and pampered by the delusion that our pleasures and pains are of chief importance. Contrast with anger the moral feeling of indignation.

Anger is directed against the injury received, indignation solely against the wrong done. The immoral feeling prompts us to hate wrong because it has been inflicted on us. The moral feeling prompts us to hate wrong because it is wrong. Now, to the extent that we sincerely hate wrong we shall be stirred up to diminish its power over others as well as over ourselves; we shall, for instance, be moved to save the evil doer who has just injured us from the tyranny of his evil nature; we shall aspire to become the moral physicians of those who have hurt us. And precisely because they have hurt us, they have a unique claim on us. We who know better than others the extent of their disease are called upon more than others to labor with a view to their cure. In this connection the rule of returning good for evil should be explained. This rule does not apply alike in all cases, though the spirit of it should always inspire our actions. If a pickpocket should steal our purse, it would be folly to hand him a check for twice the amount he has just stolen. If a hardened criminal should draw his knife and wound us in the back, it would be absurd to request him kindly to stab us in the breast also. We should in this case not be _curing_ him, but simply confirming him in his evil doing. The rule is: Try to free the sinner from the power of sin. In some cases this is best accomplished by holding his hand, as it were, and preventing him from carrying out the intended wrong. In other cases by depriving him of his liberty for a season, subjecting him to wholesome discipline, and teaching him habits of industry. Only in the case of those who have already attained a higher moral plane, and whose conscience is sensitive, does the rule of returning good for evil apply literally. If a brother has acted in an unbrotherly way toward you, do you on the next occasion act wholly in a brotherly way toward him. You will thereby show him how he ought to have acted and awaken the better nature in him.

Certain practical rules for the control of anger may be given to the pupil. Suppress the signs of anger; you will thereby diminish its force.

Try to gain time: "When you are angry, count ten before you speak; when you are very angry, count a hundred." Having gained time, examine rigorously into your own conduct. Ask yourself whether you have not been partly to blame. If you find that you have, then, instead of venting your wrath on your enemy, try rather to correct the fault which has provoked hostility. But if, after honest self-scrutiny, you are able to acquit yourself, then you can all the more readily act the part of the moral physician, for it is the innocent who find it easiest to forgive.

It is also useful to cite examples of persons who, like Socrates, have exhibited great self-control in moments of anger; and to quote proverbs treating of anger, to explain these proverbs and to cause them to be committed to memory. I advise, indeed, that proverbs be used in connection with all the moral lessons. Of the manner in which they are to be used I shall speak later on.

The last of the present group of duties which we shall discuss relates to the feelings of vanity, pride, humility. Vanity is a feeling of self-complacency based on external advantages. A person is vain of his dress or of his real or supposed personal charms. The peac.o.c.k is the type of vanity. Though the admiration of others ministers to vanity, yet it is possible to be vain by one's self--before a mirror, for instance.

The feeling of pride, on the other hand, depends upon a comparison between self and others. Pride implies a sense of one's own superiority and of the inferiority of others. Both feelings are anti-moral. They spring, like moral cowardice and anger, from the false belief that this little self of ours is of very great importance. There is no such thing as proper pride or honest pride. The word pride used in this connection is a misnomer. Vanity is spurious self-esteem based on external advantages. Pride is spurious self-esteem based on comparison with others. Genuine self-esteem is based on the consciousness of a distinction which we share with all humanity--namely, the capacity and the duty of rational development. This genuine self-esteem has two aspects--the one positive, the other negative. The positive aspect is called dignity, the negative humility. True dignity and true humility always go together. The sense of dignity arises within us when we remember the aims to which as human beings we are pledged; the sense of humility can not fail to arise when we consider how infinitely in practice we all fall below those aims. Thus while pride depends on a comparison of ourselves with others, the genuinely moral feeling is excited when we consider our relation to the common ends of mankind. On the one hand, we are indeed privileged to pursue those ends, and are thereby exalted above all created things and above the whole of the natural world with all its stars and suns. Upon this consideration is founded the sense of dignity. On the other hand, we can not but own how great is the distance which separates even the best of us from the goal, and this gives rise to a deep sense of humility. The rule of conduct which we are considering is a rule of proper self-estimation. Estimate thy worth not by external advantages nor by thy pre-eminence above others, but by the degree of energy with which thou pursuest the moral aims. To mark off the distinction between vanity and pride on the one hand and dignity on the other, the teacher may contrast in detail the lives of Alcibiades and Socrates.

In connection with the discussion of anger and of pride, define such terms as hate, envy, malice. Hatred is anger become chronic. Or we may also say the state of mind which leads to pa.s.sionate paroxysms in the case of anger is called hate when it has turned into a settled inward disposition. In other respects the characteristic marks of both are the same. Envy is the obverse of pride. Pride is based on real or fancied superiority to others. Envy is due to real or fancied inferiority. Pride is the vice of the strong, envy of the weak. Malice is pleasure in the loss of others irrespective of our gain.

I have observed on a previous occasion that the feelings considered by themselves have no moral value. Nevertheless, we have now repeatedly spoken of moral feelings. The apparent contradiction disappears if we remember that all feelings of the higher order presuppose, and are the echo of complex systems of ideas. The moral feelings are those in which moral ideas have their resonance; and those feelings are valuable in virtue of the ideas which they reflect. The feeling of moral courage depends on the idea that the injuries we receive at the hands of fortune are not important, but that it is important for us to do credit to our rational nature. The feeling of moral indignation depends on the idea that the injuries we receive from our fellow-men are not important, but that it is important that the right be done and the wrong abated. The feelings of moral dignity and humility combined depend on the idea that it does not signify whether the shadow we cast in the world of men be long or short, but only that we live in the light of the moral aims.

FOOTNOTE:

[16] See, e. g., the famous pa.s.sage in Seneca, De Ira, iii, 15.

XIII.

DUTIES WHICH RELATE TO OTHERS.

FILIAL DUTIES.