The Moral Instruction of Children by Felix Adler (read after txt) 📕

[10] Buddhist Birth Stories; or Jātaka Tales.

Introduction.—It will have been noticed that in choosing our illustrative material we have confined ourselves to what may be called classical literature. The German Märchen has lived in the traditions of the German people for centuries, and is as fresh to-day as Snow-white herself when she woke from her trance. The fables, as has been shown, have been adopted into the language and literature of Persia, of Arabia, of the nations of Europe, and are still found in the hands of our own children. Let us continue to pursue the same method of selection. Instead of relying on juvenile literature just produced, or attempting to write moralizing stories specially adapted for the purpose in hand, let us continue, without excluding invention altogether, to rely mainly on that which has stood the test of time. In the third part of our primary course we shall use selected stories from the classical literature of the Hebrews, and later on from that of Greece, particularly the Odyssey and the Iliad. The stories to which I refer possess a perennial vitality, an indestructible charm. I am, I trust, no blind worshiper of antiquity. The mere fact that a thing has existed for a thousand or two thousand years is not always proof that it is worth preserving. But the fact that after having been repeated for two thousand years a story still possesses a perfectly fresh attraction for the child of to-day, does indeed prove that there is in it something of imperishable worth. How is this unique charm of the classical literature to be explained? What quality exists in Homer, in the Bible, enabling them, despite the changes of taste and fashion, to hold their own? The novels of the last century are already antiquated; few care to read them. The poetry of the middle ages is enjoyed only by those who cultivate a special taste for it. Historical and scientific works hardly have time to leave an impression before new books appear to crowd them out. But a few great masterpieces have survived, and the truth and beauty of these the lapse of ages, it seems, has left unaltered. Mr. Jebb remarks[11] that Homer aims at the lucid expression of primary motives, and refrains from multiplying individual traits which might interfere with their effect, and that this typical quality in Homer's portraiture has been one secret of its universal impressiveness. The Homeric outlines are in each case brilliantly distinct, while they leave to the reader a certain liberty of private conception, and he can fill them in so as to satisfy his own ideal. We may add that this is just as true of the Bible as of Homer. The biblical narrative, too, depicts a few essential traits of human nature, and refrains from multiplying minor traits which might interfere with the main effect. The Bible, too, draws its figures in outline, and leaves every age free to fill them in so as to satisfy its own ideal. Thus the biblical story, as conceived in the mind of Milton, reflects the Puritan ideal; the same story, narrated in a modern pulpit or Sunday-school, will inevitably reflect, to a greater or less degree, the modern humanitarian ideal, and this liberty of interpretation is one cause of the vitality of the Bible. But it may be asked further, How did Homer, how did the biblical writers, succeed in producing such universal types, in drawing their figures so correctly that, however the colors may thenceforth be varied, the outlines remain forever true? He who should attempt at the present day to give expression to the most universal traits of human nature, freed from the complex web of conditions, disengaged from the thousand-fold minor traits which modify the universal in particular instances, would find it difficult to avoid one or the other of two fatal errors. If he keeps his eyes fixed on the universal, he is in danger of producing a set of bloodless abstractions, pale shadows of reality, which will not live for a day, much less for a thousand years. If, on the other hand, he tries to keep close to reality he will probably produce more or less accurate copies of the types that surround him, but the danger will always be that the universal will be lost amid the particulars. By what quality in themselves or fortunate constellation of circumstances did Homer and the biblical writers succeed in avoiding both these errors, in creating types of the utmost universality and yet imparting to them the breath of life, the gait and accent of distinctive individuality? I imagine that they succeeded because they lived at a time when life was much less complex than it is at present, when the conversation, the manners, the thoughts, the motives of men were simple. They were enabled to individualize the universal because the most universal, the simplest motives, still formed the mainspring in the conduct of individuals. It was not necessary for them to enter into the barren region of abstraction and generalization to discover the universal. They pictured what they actually saw. The universal and the individual were still blended in that early dawn of human history.

We have thus far spoken of Homer and the Bible jointly. But let us now give our particular attention to the biblical narrative. The narrative of the Bible is fairly saturated with the moral spirit; the moral issues are everywhere in the forefront. Duty, guilt and its punishment, the conflict of conscience with inclination, are the leading themes. The Hebrew people seem to have been endowed with what may be called "a moral genius," and especially did they emphasize the filial and fraternal duties to an extent hardly equaled elsewhere. Now it is precisely these duties that must be impressed on young children, and hence the biblical stories present us with the very material we require. They can not, in this respect, be replaced; there is no other literature in the world that offers what is equal to them in value for the particular object we have now in view. Before proceeding, however, to discuss the stories in detail, let me remind you that in studying them a larger tax is made on the attention of children, and a higher development of the moral judgment is presupposed, than in the previous parts of our course; for in them a succession of acts and their consequences are presented to the scholar, on each of which his judgment is to be exercised. Those who teach the biblical stories merely because it has been customary to regard the Bible as the text-book of morals and religion, without, however, being clear as to the place which belongs to it in a scheme of moral education, will always, I doubt not, achieve a certain result. The stories will never entirely fail of their beneficial effect, but I can not help thinking that this effect will be greatly heightened if their precise pedagogic value is distinctly apprehended, and if the preparatory steps have been taken in due course. It seems to me that the moral judgment should first be exercised on a single moral quality as exhibited in a single act before it is applied to a whole series of acts; and hence that the fable should precede the story.

In making our selection from the rich material before us we need only keep in mind the principle already enunciated in the introductory lectures—that the moral teaching at any period should relate to the duties of that period.

Adam and Eve in Paradise.

This is a wonderful story for children. It deserves to be placed at the head of all the others, for it inculcates the cardinal virtue of childhood—obedience. It is also a typical story of the beginning, the progress, and the culmination of temptation. Will you permit me to relate the