The Elements of General Method | Page 9

the only thing that can
give meaning to moral precepts. If we see a harsh man beating his
horse, we get an ineffaceable impression of harshness. By reading the
story of the Black Beauty we acquire a lively sympathy for animals.
Then the maxim "A merciful man is merciful to his beast" will be a
good summary of the impressions received. Moral ideas always have a
concrete basis or origin. Some companion with whose feelings and
actions you are in close personal contact, or some character from
history or fiction by whose personality you have been strongly attracted,
gives you your keenest impressions of moral qualities. To begin with
abstract moral teaching, or to put faith in it, is to misunderstand
children. In morals as in other forms of knowledge, children are
overwhelmingly interested in personal and individual examples, things
which have form, color, action. The attempt to sum up the important
truths of a subject and present them as abstractions to children is almost
certain to be a failure, pedagogically considered. It has been
demonstrated again and again, even in high schools, that botany,
chemistry, physics, and zoology can not be taught by such brief
scientific compendia of rules and principles--"Words, words, words,"

as Hamlet said. We can not learn geography from definitions and map
questions, nor morals from catechisms. And just as in natural science
we are resorting perforce to plants, animals, and natural phenomena, so
in morals we turn to the deeds and lives of men. Columbus in his
varying fortunes leaves vivid impressions of the moral strength and
weakness of himself and of others. John Winthrop gives frequent
examples of generous and unselfish good-will to the settlers about
Boston. Little Lord Fauntleroy is a better treatise on morals for children
than any of our sermonizers have written. We must get at morals
without moralizing and drink in moral convictions without resorting to
moral platitudes. Educators are losing faith in words, definitions, and
classifications. It is a truism that we can't learn chemistry or zoology
from books alone, nor can moral judgments be rendered except from
individual actions.
A little reflection will show that we are only demanding object lessons
in the field of moral education, extensive, systematic object lessons;
choice experiences and episodes from human life, simple and clear,
painted in natural colors, as shown by our best history and literature. To
appreciate the virtues and vices, to sympathize with better impulses, we
must travel beyond words and definitions till we come in contact with
the personal deeds that first give rise to them. The life of Martin Luther,
with its faults and merits honestly represented, is a powerful moral
tonic to the reader; the autobiography of Franklin brings out a great
variety of homely truths in the form of interesting episodes in his career.
Adam Bede and Romola impress us more powerfully and permanently
than the best sermons, because the individual realism in them leads to a
vividness of moral judgment of their acts unequalled. King Lear
teaches us the folly of a rash judgment with overwhelming force.
Evangeline awakens our sympathies as no moralist ever dreamed of
doing. Uncle Tom in Mrs. Stowe's story was a stronger preacher than
Wendell Phillips. William Tell in Schiller's play kindles our love for
heroic deeds into an enthusiasm. The best myths, historical biographies,
novels, and dramas, are the richest sources of moral stimulus because
they lead us into the immediate presence of those men and women
whose deeds stir up our moral natures. In the representations of the
masters we are in the presence of moral ideas clothed in flesh and blood,

real and yet idealized. Generosity is not a name but the act of a person
which wins our interest and, favor. To get the impress of kindness we
must see an act of kindness and feel the glow it produces. When Sir
Philip Sidney, wounded on the battle field and suffering with thirst,
reached out his hand for a cup of water that was brought, his glance fell
upon a dying soldier who viewed the cup with great desire; Sidney
handed him the water with the words, "Thy necessity is greater than
mine." No one can refuse his approval for this act. After telling the
story of the man who went down to Jericho and fell among thieves, and
then of the priest, the Levite, and the Samaritan who passed that way,
Jesus put the question to his critic, "Who was neighbor to him that fell
among thieves?" And the answer came even from unwilling lips, "He
that showed mercy." When Nathan Hale on the scaffold regretted that
he had but one life to lose for his country, we realize better what
patriotism is. On the other hand it is natural to condemn wrong deeds
when presented