FOOTNOTE:

FOOTNOTE:[7]So important is environment in supporting self-consciousness, that even adults, when suddenly transported into entirely new surroundings, often experience a momentary doubt as to their identity.

[7]So important is environment in supporting self-consciousness, that even adults, when suddenly transported into entirely new surroundings, often experience a momentary doubt as to their identity.

[7]So important is environment in supporting self-consciousness, that even adults, when suddenly transported into entirely new surroundings, often experience a momentary doubt as to their identity.

There has been and still is considerable difference of opinion among educators as to the value of fairy tales. I venture to think that, as in many other cases, the cause of the quarrel is what logicians call anundistributed middle—in other words, that the parties to the dispute have each a different kind of fairy tale in mind. This species of literature can be divided broadly into two classes—one consisting of tales which ought to be rejected because they are really harmful, and children ought to be protected from their bad influence, the other of tales which have a most beautiful and elevating effect, and which we can not possibly afford to leave unutilized.

The chief pedagogic value they possess is that they exercise and cultivate the imagination. Now, the imagination is a most powerful auxiliary in the development of the mind and will. The familiar anecdote related of Marie Antoinette, who is said to have asked why the people did not eat cake when she was told that they were in want of bread, indicates a deficiency of imagination. Brought up amid the splendor of courts, surrounded by luxury, she could not put herself in the place of those who lack the very necessaries. Much of the selfishnessof the world is due not to actual hard-heartedness, but to a similar lack of imaginative power. It is difficult for the happy to realize the needs of the miserable. Did they realize those needs, they would in many cases be melted to pity and roused to help. The faculty of putting one's self in the place of others is therefore of great, though indirect, service to the cause of morality, and this faculty may be cultivated by means of fairy tales. As they follow intently the progress of the story, the young listeners are constantly called upon to place themselves in the situations in which they have never been, to imagine trials, dangers, difficulties, such as they have never experienced, to reproduce in themselves, for instance, such feelings as that of being alone in the wide world, of being separated from father's and mother's love, of being hungry and without bread, exposed to enemies without protection, etc. Thus their sympathy in a variety of forms is aroused.

In the next place, fairy tales stimulate the idealizing tendency. What were life worth without ideals! How could hope or even religion germinate in the human heart were we not able to confront the disappointing present with visions which represent the fulfillment of our desires. "Faith," says Paul, "is the confidence of things hoped for, the certainty of things not seen." Thus faith itself can not abide unless supported by a vivid idealism. It is true, the ideals of childhood are childish. In the story called Das Marienkind we hear of the little daughter of a poor wood-cutter who was taken up bodily intoheaven. There she ate sweetmeats and drank cream every day and wore dresses made of gold, and the angels played with her. Sweetmeats and cream in plenty and golden dresses and dear little angels to play with may represent the ideals of a young child, and these are materialistic enough. But I hold nevertheless that something—nay, much—has been gained if a child has learned to take the wishes out of its heart, as it were, and to project them on the screen of fancy. As it grows up to manhood, the wishes will become more spiritual, and the ideals, too, will become correspondingly elevated. In speaking of fairy tales I have in mind chiefly the GermanMärchenof which the word fairy tale is but an inaccurate rendering. TheMärchenare more than mere tales of helpful fairies. They have, as is well-known, a mythological background. They still bear distinct traces of ancient animism, and the myths which center about the phenomena of the storm, the battle of the sun with the clouds, the struggle of the fair spring god with the dark winter demons, are in them leading themes. But what originally was the outgrowth of superstition has now, to a great extent at least, been purified of its dross and converted into mere poetry. TheMärchencome to us from a time when the world was young. They represent the childhood of mankind, and it is for this reason that they never cease to appeal to children. TheMärchenhave a subtile flavor all their own. They are pervaded by the poetry of forest life, are full of the sense of mystery and awe, which is apt to overcome one onpenetrating deeper and deeper into the woods, away from human habitations. TheMärchendeal with the underground life of nature, which weaves in caverns and in the heart of mountains, where gnomes and dwarfs are at work gathering hidden treasures. And with this underground life children have a marvelous sympathy. TheMärchenpresent glowing pictures of sheltered firesides, where man finds rest and security from howling winds and nipping cold. But perhaps their chief attraction is due to their representing the child as living in brotherly fellowship with nature and all creatures. Trees, flowers, animals wild and tame, even the stars, are represented as the comrades of children. That animals are only human beings in disguise is an axiom in the fairy tales. Animals are humanized—i. e., the kinship between animal and human life is still strongly felt, and this reminds us of those early animistic interpretations of nature, which subsequently led to doctrines of metempsychosis. Plants, too, are often represented as incarnations of human spirits. Thus the twelve lilies are inhabited by the twelve brothers, and in the story of Snow-white and Rose-red the life of the two maidens appears to be bound up with the life of the white and red rosebush. The kinship of all life whatsoever is still realized. This being so, it is not surprising that men should understand the language of animals, and that these should interfere to protect the heroes and heroines of theMärchenfrom threatened dangers. In the story of the faithful servant John, the threeravens flying above the ship reveal the secret of the red horse, the sulphurous shirt, and the three drops of blood, and John, who understands their communications, is thereby enabled to save his master's life. What, again, can be more beautiful than the way in which the tree and the two white doves co-operate to secure the happiness of the injured Cinderella! The tree rains down the golden dresses with which she appears at the ball, and the doves continue to warn the prince as he rides by that he has chosen the wrong bride until Cinderella herself passes, when they light on her shoulders, one on her right and the other on her left, making, perhaps, the loveliest picture to be found in all fairy lore. The child still lives in unbroken communion with the whole of nature; the harmony between its own life and the enveloping life has not yet been disturbed, and it is this harmony of the human with the natural world that reflects itself in the atmosphere of theMärchen, and makes them so admirably suited to satisfy the heart of childhood.

But how shall we handle theseMärchenand what method shall we employ in putting them to account for our special purpose? I have a few thoughts on this subject, which I shall venture to submit in the form of counsels.

Myfirst counselis: Tell the story; do not give it to the child to read. There is an obvious practical reason for this. Children are able to benefit by hearing fairy tales before they can read. But that is not the only reason. It is the childhood ofthe race, as we have seen, that speaks in the fairy story to the child of to-day. It is the voice of an ancient, far-off past that echoes from the lips of the story-teller. The words "once upon a time" open up a vague retrospect into the past, and the child gets its first indistinct notions of history in this way. The stories embody the tradition of the childhood of mankind. They have on this account an authority all their own, not indeed that of literal truth, but one derived from their being types of certain feelings and longings which belong to childhood as such. The child as it listens to theMärchen, looks up with wide-opened eyes to the face of the person who tells the story, and thrills responsive as the touch of the earlier life of the race thus falls upon its own. Such an effect, of course, can not be produced by cold type. Tradition is a living thing, and should use the living voice for its vehicle.

Mysecond counselis also of a practical nature, and I make bold to say quite essential to the successful use of the stories. Do not take the moral plum out of the fairy-tale pudding, but let the child enjoy it as a whole. Do not make the story taper toward a single point, the moral point. You will squeeze all the juice out of it if you try. Do not subordinate the purely fanciful and naturalistic elements of the story, such as the love of mystery, the passion for roving, the sense of fellowship with the animal world, in order to fix attention solely on the moral element. On the contrary, you will gain the best moral effect by proceeding in exactly theopposite way. Treat the moral element as an incident; emphasize, it indeed, but incidentally. Pluck it as a wayside flower. How often does it happen that, having set out on a journey with a distinct object in mind, something occurs on the way which we had not foreseen, but which in the end leaves the deepest impression on the mind. The object which we had in view is long forgotten, but the incident which happened by the way is remembered for years after. So the moral result of theMärchenwill not be less sure because gained incidentally. An illustration will make plain what I mean. In the story of the Frog King we are told that there was once a young princess who was so beautiful that even the Sun, which sees a great many things, had never seen anything so beautiful as she was. A golden ball was her favorite plaything. One day, as she sat by a well under an old linden tree, she tossed the ball into the air and it fell into the well. She was very unhappy, and cried bitterly. Presently a frog put his ugly head out of the water, and offered to dive for the ball, on condition, however, that she would promise to take him for her playmate, to let him eat off her golden plate and drink out of her golden cup and sleep in her little snow-white bed. The princess promised everything. But no sooner had the frog brought her the ball than she scampered away, heedless of his cries. The next day as the royal family sat at dinner a knock was heard at the door. The princess opened and beheld the ugly toad claiming admittance. Shescreamed with fright and hastily shut the door in his face. But when the king, her father, had questioned her, he said, "What you have promised, you must keep"; and she obeyed her father, though it was sorely against her inclination to do so. That was right, children, was it not? One must always obey, even if one does not like what one is told to do. So the toad was brought in and lifted to the table, and he ate off the little golden plate and drank out of the golden cup. And when he had had enough, he said, "I am tired now, put me into your little snow-white bed." And again when she refused her father said: "What you have promised you must keep. Ugly though he is, he helped you when you were in distress, and you must not despise him now." And the upshot of the story is that the ugly toad, having been thrown against the wall, was changed into a beautiful prince, and of course some time after the prince and the princess were married.

The naturalistic element of the story is the changing of the prince into a toad and back again from a toad into a prince. Children are very fond of disguises. It is one of their greatest pleasures to imagine things to be other than they are. And one of the chief attractions of such stories as the one we have related is that they cater to the fondness of the little folks for this sort of masquerading. The moral elements of the story are obvious. They should be touched on in such a manner as not to divert the interest from the main story.

Mythird counselis to eliminate from the stories whatever is merely superstitious, merely a relic of ancient animism, and of course whatever is objectionable on moral grounds. For instance, such a story as that of the idle spinner, the purport of which seems to be that there is a special providence watching over lazy people. Likewise all those stories which turn upon the success of trickery and cunning. A special question arising under this head, and one which has been the subject of much vexed discussion, is in how far we should acquaint children with the existence of evil in the world, and to what extent we can use stories in which evil beings and evil motives are introduced. My own view is that we should speak in the child's hearing only of those lesser forms of evil, physical or moral, with which it is already acquainted, but exclude all those forms of evil which lie beyond its present experience. On this ground I should reject the whole brood of step-mother stories, or rather, as this might make too wide a swath, I should take the liberty of altering stories in which the typical bad step-mother occurs, but which are otherwise valuable. There is no reason why children should be taught to look on step-mothers in general as evilly disposed persons. The same applies to stories in which unnatural fathers are mentioned. I should also rule out such stories as that of The Wolf and The Seven Little Goats. The mother goat, on leaving the house, warns her little ones against the wolf, and gives them two signs by which they can detecthim—his hoarse voice and black paws. The wolf knocks and finds himself discovered. He thereupon swallows chalk to improve his voice and compels the miller to whiten his paws. Then he knocks again, is admitted, leaps into the room, and devours the little goats one by one. The story, as used in the nursery, has a transparent purpose. It is intended to warn little children who are left at home alone against admitting strangers. The wolf represents evil beings in general—tramps, burglars, people who come to kidnap children, etc. Now I, for one, should not wish to implant this fear of strangers into the minds of the young. Fear is demoralizing. Children should look with confidence and trust upon all men. They need not be taught to fear robbers and burglars. Even the sight of wild animals need not awaken dread. Children naturally admire the beauty of the tiger's skin, and the lion in their eyes is a noble creature, of whose ferocity they have no conception. It is time enough for them later on to familiarize themselves with the fact that evil of a sinister sort exists within human society and outside of it. And it will be safe for them to face this fact then only, when they can couple with it the conviction that the forces of right and order in the world are strong enough to grapple with the sinister powers and hold them in subjection.

And now let us review a number of theMärchenagainst which none of these objections lie, which are delicious food for children's minds, and consider the place they occupy in a schemeof moral training. It has been already stated that each period of human life has a set of duties peculiar to itself. The principal duties of childhood are: Obedience to parents, love and kindness toward brothers and sisters, a proper regard for the feelings of servants, and kindness toward animals. We can classify the fairy tales which we can use under these various heads. Let us begin with the topic last mentioned.

Tales illustrating Kindness toward Animals.

The House in the Woods.—The daughter of a poor wood-cutter is lost in the woods, and comes at night to a lonely house. An old man is sitting within. Three animals—a cow, a cock, and a chicken—lie on the hearth. The child is made welcome, and is asked to prepare supper. She cooks for the old man and herself, but forgets the animals. The second daughter likewise goes astray in the woods, comes to the same house, and acts in the same way. The third daughter, a sweet, loving child, before sitting down to her own meal, brings in hay for the cow and barley for the cock and chicken, and by this act of kindness to animals breaks the spell which had been cast upon the house. The old man is immediately transformed into a prince, etc.

The Story of the Dog Sultan.—Sultan is old, and about to be shot by his master. The wolf, seeing his cousin the dog in such distress, promises to help him. He arranges that on the morrow he willseize a sheep belonging to Sultan's master. The dog is to run after him, and he, the wolf, will drop the sheep and Sultan shall get the credit of the rescue. Everything passes off as prearranged, and Sultan's life is spared by his grateful owner. Some time after the wolf comes prowling around the house, and, reminding his friend that one good turn deserves another, declares that he has now come for mutton in good earnest. But the dog replies that nothing can tempt him to betray the interests of his master. The wolf persists, but Sultan gives the alarm and the thief receives his due in the shape of a sound beating.

The point of special interest in the beautiful story of Snow-white and Rose-red above referred to is the incident of the bear. One cold winter's night some one knocks at the door. Snow-white and Rose-red go to open, when a huge black bear appears at the entrance and begs for shelter. He is almost frozen with the cold, he says, and would like to warm himself a bit. The two little girls are at first frightened, but, encouraged by their mother, they take heart and invite the bear into the kitchen. Soon a cordial friendship springs up between Bruin and the children. They brush the snow from his fur, tease, and caress him by turns. After this the bear returns every night, and finally turns out to be a beautiful prince.

The Story of the Queen Bee tells about three brothers who wander through the world in search of adventures. One day they come to an ant-hill.The two older brothers are about to trample upon the ants "just for the fun of it." But the youngest pleads with them, saying: "Let them live; their life is as dear to them as ours is to us." Next they come to a pond in which many ducks are swimming about. The two older brothers are determined to shoot the ducks "just for the fun of it." The youngest again pleads as before, "Let them live," etc. Finally, he saves a bee-hive from destruction in the same manner. Thus they journey on until they come to an enchanted castle. To break the spell, it is necessary to find and gather up a thousand pearls which had fallen on the moss-covered ground in a certain wood. Five thousand ants come to help the youngest to find the pearls. The second task imposed is to find a golden key which had been thrown into a pond near the castle. The grateful ducks bring up the key from the bottom. The third task is the most difficult. In one of the interior chambers of the castle there are three marble images—three princesses, namely, who had been turned into stone. Before the spell took effect they had partaken, respectively, of sugar, sirup, and honey. To restore them to life it is necessary to discover which one had eaten the honey. The Queen Bee comes in with all her swarm and lights on the lips of the youngest and so solves the problem. The enchantment is immediately dissolved. All these stories illustrate kindness to animals.

Among stories which illustrate therespect due tothe feelings of servantsmay be mentioned the tale of Faithful John, who understood the language of the ravens and saved his master from the dangers of the red horse, etc., a story which in addition impresses the lesson that we should confide in persons who have been found trustworthy, even if we do not understand their motives. In the popular tale of Cinderella the points especially to be noted are: The pious devotion of Cinderella to her mother's memory, and the fact that the poor kitchen drudge, underneath the grime and ashes which disfigure her, possesses qualities which raise her far above the proud daughters of the house. The lesson taught by this story that we should distinguish intrinsic worth from the accidents of rank and condition, is one which can not be impressed too early or too deeply.

Under the heading ofbrotherly and sisterly lovebelongs the lovely tale of Snow-white. The little dwarfs are to all intents and purposes her brothers. They receive and treat her as a sister, and she returns their affection in kind.

The story of the Twelve Brothers, whom their sister redeems by seven years of silence at the peril of her own life, is another instance of tenderest sisterly devotion combined with self-control. This story, however, needs to be slightly altered. In place of the cruel father (we must not mention cruel fathers) who has got ready twelve coffins for his sons, in order that all the wealth of his kingdom may descend to his daughter, let us substitute the steward of the palace, who hopes by slaying thesons and winning the hand of the daughter, to become king himself.

Finally the story of Red Riding Hood illustrates the cardinal virtue of childhood—obedience to parents. Children must not loiter on the way when they are sent on errands. And Riding Hood loiters, and hence all the mischief which follows. She is sent to bring wine and cake to her grandmother. The example of such attentions as this serves to quicken in children the sentiment of reverence for the aged. Children learn reverence toward their parents in part by the reverence which these display toward the grandparents. Another point is that Red Riding Hood, to quiet her conscience, when she strays from the straight path deceives herself as to her motives. She says, "I will also gather a bunch of wild flowers to please grandmother." But her real purpose is to enjoy the freedom of the woods, and the proof is that presently she forgets all about grandmother. There is one objection that has sometimes been urged against this story, viz., the part which the wolf plays in it. But the wolf is not really treated as a hostile or fearful being. He meets Red Riding Hood on the way, and they chat confidentially together. He appears rather in the light of a trickster. But, it is objected, that he devours the grandmother and, later on, Red Riding Hood herself. Very true; but the curious fact is that, when his belly is cut open, the grandmother and Red Riding Hood come out intact. They have evidently not been injured. Children have verydefective notions of the human body, with the exception of such external parts as hands, feet, and face. In an examination recently conducted by Prof. G. Stanley Hall in regard to the contents of childrens' minds at the time they enter school, it was found that ninety per cent of those questioned had no idea where the heart is located, eighty-one per cent did not know anything about the lungs, ninety per cent could not tell where their ribs are situated, etc. Of the internal organs children have no idea. Hence when the story says that the grandmother is swallowed by the wolf, the impression created is that she has been forced down into a sort of dark hole, and that her situation, while rather uncomfortable, no doubt, is not otherwise distressing. The ideas of torn and mangled flesh are not suggested. Hence the act of devouring arouses no feeling of horror, and the story of Red Riding Hood, that prime favorite of all young children, may be related without any apprehension as to its moral effect.

Then there are other stories, such as that of the man who went abroad to learn the art of shuddering—an excellent example of bravery; the story of the seven Suabians—a persiflage of cowardice; the story of theMarienkindwhich contains a wholesome lesson against obstinacy, etc. I have not, of course, attempted to cover the whole ground, but only to mention a few examples sufficient to show along what lines the selection may be made. The ethical interests peculiar to childhood are theheads under which the whole material can be classified.

The value of the fairy tales is that they stimulate the imagination; that they reflect the unbroken communion of human life with the life universal, as in beasts, fishes, trees, flowers, and stars; and that incidentally, but all the more powerfully on that account, they quicken the moral sentiments.

Let us avail ourselves freely of the treasures which are thus placed at our disposal. Let us welcomedas Märcheninto our primary course of moral training, that with its gentle bands, woven of "morning mist and morning glory," it may help to lead our children into the bright realms of the ideal.

The collection of fables which figures under the name of Æsop has to a very remarkable degree maintained its popularity among children, and many of its typical characters have been adopted into current literature, such as the Dog in the Manger, the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing, King Log, and King Stork, and others. Recent researches have brought to light the highly interesting fact that these fables are of Asiatic origin. A collection of Indian and, it is believed, Buddhist fables and stories traveled at an early period into Persia, where it became known as the Pancha-Tantra. The Pancha-Tantra was translated into Arabic, and became the source of the voluminous Kalilah-wa-Dimnah literature. The Arabic tales in turn migrated into Europe at the time of the Crusades and were rendered into Greek, Hebrew, and Latin. In this form they became accessible to the nations of Europe, were extensively circulated, and a collection of them was wrongly, but very naturally, ascribed to a famous story-teller of the ancient Greeks—i. e., to Æsop. The arguments on which this deduction is based may be found in Rhys Davids's introduction to his Englishtranslation of the Jātaka Tales.[8]This author speaks of Æsop's fables as a first moral lesson-book for our children in the West. We shall have to consider in how far this description is correct—that is to say, in how far we can use the fables for moral purposes. The point to be kept in mind is their Asiatic origin, as this will at once help us to separate the fables which we can use from those which must be rejected. A discrimination of this sort is absolutely necessary. I am of the opinion that it is a serious mistake to place the whole collection as it stands in the hands of children.

To decide this question we must study themilieuin which the fables arose, the spirit which they breathe, the conditions which they reflect. The conditions they reflect are those of an Oriental despotism. They depict a state of society in which the people are cruelly oppressed by tyrannical rulers, and the weak are helpless in the hands of the strong. The spirit which they breathe is, on the whole, one of patient and rather hopeless submission. The effect upon the reader as soon as he has caught this clew, thisLeitmotiv, which occurs in a hundred variations, is very saddening. I must substantiate this cardinal point by a somewhat detailed analysis. Let us take first the fable of the Kite and the Pigeons. A kite had been sailing in the air for many days near a pigeon-house with the intentionof seizing the pigeons; at last he had recourse to stratagem. He expressed his deep concern at their unjust and unreasonable suspicions of himself, as if he intended to do them an injury. He declared that, on the contrary, he had nothing more at heart than the defense of their ancient rights and liberties, and ended by proposing that they should accept him as their protector, their king. The poor, simple pigeons consented. The kite took the coronation oath in a very solemn manner. But much time had not elapsed before the good kite declared it to be a part of the king's prerogative to devour a pigeon now and then, and the various members of his family adhered to the same view of royal privilege. The miserable pigeons exclaimed: "Ah, we deserve no better. Why did we let him in!"

The fable of the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing conveys essentially the same idea. The fable of the Lion and the Deer illustrates the exorbitant exactions practiced by despots. A fat deer was divided into four parts. His majesty the lion proposed that they be suitably apportioned. The first part he claimed for himself on account of his true hereditary descent from the royal family of Lion; the second he considered properly his own because he had headed the hunt; the third he took in virtue of his prerogative; and finally he assumed a menacing attitude, and dared any one to dispute his right to the fourth part also.

In the fable of the Sick Lion and the Fox, the fox says: "I see the footprints of beasts who have goneinto the cave, but of none that have come out." The fable of the Cat and the Mice expresses the same thought, namely, that it is necessary to be ever on one's guard against the mighty oppressors even when their power seems for the time to have deserted them. The cat pretends to be dead, hoping by this means to entice the mice within her reach. A cunning old mouse peeps over the edge of the shelf, and says: "Aha, my good friend, are you there? I would not trust myself with you though your skin were stuffed with straw."

The fable of King Log and King Stork shows what a poor choice the people have in the matter of their kings. First they have a fool for their king, a mere log, and they are discontented. Then Stork ascends the throne, and he devours them. It would have been better if they had put up with the fool. The injustice of despotic rulers is exemplified in the fable of the Kite and the Wolf. The kite and the wolf are seated in judgment. The dog comes before them to sue the sheep for debt. Kite and wolf, without waiting for the evidence, give sentence for the plaintiff, who immediately tears the poor sheep into pieces and divides the spoil with the judges. The sort of thanks which the people get when they are foolish enough to come to the assistance of their masters, is illustrated by the conduct of the wolf toward the crane. The wolf happened to have a bone sticking in his throat, and, howling with pain, promised a reward to any one who should relieve him. At last the crane venturedhis long neck into the wolf's throat and plucked out the bone. But when he asked for his reward, the wolf glared savagely upon him, and said: "Is it not enough that I refrained from biting off your head?" How dangerous it is to come at all into close contact with the mighty, is shown in the fable of the Earthen and the Brazen Pot. The brazen pot offers to protect the earthen one as they float down stream. "Oh," replies the latter, "keep as far off as ever you can, if you please; for, whether the stream dashes you against me or me against you, I am sure to be the sufferer."

The fables which we have considered have for their theme the character of the strong as exhibited in their dealings with the weak. A second group is intended to recommend a certain policy to be pursued by the weak in self-protection. This policy consists either in pacifying the strong by giving up to them voluntarily what they want, or in flight, or, if that be impossible, in uncomplaining submission. The first expedient is recommended in the fable of the Beaver. A beaver who was being hard pressed by a hunter and knew not how to escape, suddenly, with a great effort, bit off the part which the hunter desired, and, throwing it toward him, by this means escaped with his life. The expedient of flight is recommended in the fable of Reynard and the Cat. Reynard and the cat one day were talking politics in the forest. The fox boasted that though things might turn out never so badly, he had still a thousand tricks to play before they shouldcatch him. The cat said: "I have but one trick, and if that does not succeed I am undone." Presently a pack of hounds came upon them full cry. The cat ran up a tree and hid herself among the top branches. The fox, who had not been able to get out of sight, was overtaken despite his thousand tricks and torn to pieces by the hounds. The fable of the Oak and the Reed teaches the policy of utter, uncomplaining submission. The oak refuses to bend, and is broken. The supple reed yields to the blast, and is safe. Is it not a little astonishing that this fable should so often be related to children as if it contained a moral which they ought to take to heart? To make it apply at all, it is usually twisted from its proper signification and explained as meaning that one should not be fool-hardy, not attempt to struggle against overwhelming odds. But this is not the true interpretation. The oak is by nature strong and firm, while it is the nature of the reed to bend to every wind. The fable springs out of the experience of a people who have found resistance against oppression useless. And this sort of teaching we can not, of course, wish to give to our children. I should certainly prefer that a child of mine should take the oak, and not the reed, for his pattern. The same spirit is again inculcated in the fable of the Wanton Calf. The wanton calf sneers at the poor ox who all day long bears the heavy yoke patiently upon his neck. But in the evening it turns out that the ox is unyoked, while the calf is butchered. The choice seems to lie betweensubserviency and destruction. The fable of the Old Woman and her Maids suggests the same conclusion, with the warning added that it is useless to rise against the agents of tyranny so long as the tyrants themselves can not be overthrown. The cock in the fable represents the agents of oppression. The killing of the cock serves only to bring the mistress herself on the scene, and the lot of the servants becomes in consequence very much harder than it had been before.

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 tyrantssometimes 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 wellreceived; 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 mutualantagonism 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 mirrorto 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 baremotive 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 thosewho 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.


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