SHORT STUDIES IN ETHICS
_AN ELEMENTARY TEXT-BOOK FOR SCHOOLS_
BY
REV. J. O. MILLER, M.A.,
_Principal of Bishop Ridley College_
TORONTO:
THE BRYANT PRESS
1895
Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the office of
the Minister of Agriculture, by REV. J. O. MILLER, M.A., St. Catharines,
Canada.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. DUTY 7
II. OBEDIENCE 15
III. TRUTHFULNESS 19
IV. COURAGE 24
V. PURITY 30
VI. UNSELFISHNESS 35
VII. HONESTY 40
VIII. FAITHFULNESS 45
IX. PROFANITY 50
X. JUSTICE 54
XI. BENEVOLENCE 59
XII. AMBITION 63
XIII. PATRIOTISM 68
XIV. BODILY EXERCISE 72
XV. HABIT 77
XVI. INDUSTRY 82
XVII. SELF-CONTROL 88
XVIII. SELF-RELIANCE 91
XIX. FRIENDSHIP 95
XX. GENTLEMANLINESS 100
XXI. COURTESY 105
XXII. REPENTANCE 110
XXIII. CHARACTER 115
XXIV. CONSCIENCE 120
PREFACE
This little book has grown out of periodical addresses to my own pupils.
An experience of over ten years has convinced me of the necessity of
teaching systematically the fundamental principles of Morality. The
scarcity of books suitable as elementary texts is a sufficient proof
that the subject is neglected in our schools. It cannot be right that
children should be left to master so wide a subject from incidental
instruction and from example.
I should be sorry if any one thought, from glancing at the topics I have
treated, that I seemed content to put lessons in practical Morality in
place of instruction in the Scriptures and definite religious teaching.
Nothing can take the place of the Scriptures. But I feel convinced that
these two aspects of Truth must go hand in hand. The young mind requires
the truth to be presented to it from all sides, and nothing appeals to
it so strongly as a modern example.
My own idea as to the use of such a book as this is that it should
supplement Bible instruction. The lessons are short enough to be taught
in half an hour. If one topic is taken up each week, and thoroughly
explained, and enlarged on by fresh examples from current life and
history, the whole book can be easily mastered in the school year, and
leave ample time for review and examination. If it should prove helpful
to other teachers, my labour will be amply rewarded.
_Bishop Ridley College, St. Catharines,
Feb. 28th, 1895._
[Greek: Megas gar ho agôn, megas, ouch hosos dokei, to chrêston ê
kakon genesthai.]
--_Plato._
No. I.
DUTY
+Duty is something which is due, and which, therefore, ought to be paid
or performed. It is something owed by everybody, to God, to self, or to
others.+
No other word is more disliked by the slothful than the word Duty. The
mention of the word itself causes weariness to a boy or man of that
kind. We can only get to like the word and the thing itself by
accustoming ourselves to perform it regularly, a little at a time. A boy
or girl with a fine ear and a natural talent for music hates, at first,
the daily practising and the uninteresting lessons; but, as soon as the
difficulties are mastered, playing an instrument becomes a delight.
Duty, in itself, is not a distasteful thing; it is because we hate
anything which gives us trouble that it seems unbearable. We can teach
ourselves to like taking pains.
Duty is, in one sense, the great law which governs the universe. The
planets revolving about the sun, the moon encircling the earth, even the
erratic comets, in fulfilling the laws of their being, perform the
duties which they are set. So, too, the plants and animals of the lower
creation obey the laws under which they live. Even of inanimate things,
pieces of human mechanism, may this be said. The pendulum of the clock
will tick until it is worn out, if it receive the care necessary for its
work. We see what wonderful things a machine can be made to do for man
in Edison's marvellous inventions of the kinetoscope and the
kinetograph.
Human duties differ from those of the lower creation and of the
inanimate world in this, that in the latter the duties are performed by
virtue of the great law of necessity, whereas man is free. That is what
makes human duties moral--that is where the _ought_ comes in. If we love
idleness, and most of us do at first, we naturally hate the idea of
Duty. If we give way to our feelings and desires, we shall only hate
Duty more intensely, and we are in danger of becoming not much better
than the brutes around us; in fact, we are giving way to the brute part
of our nature. Human nature differs from brute nature in having a
Conscience, which continually whispers in our hearts, "I must not," and
"I ought." It is our first duty to listen to Conscience.
The longer we practise doing duties the easier they become. A great man
once said: "A man shall carry a bucket of water on his head and be very
tired with the burden; but that same man, when he dives into the sea,
shall have the weight of a thousand buckets on his head without
perceiving their weight, because he is in the element, and it entirely
surrounds him." After running two miles for the first time, a boy feels
great stiffness, but after he has done it twenty times he feels nothing
but the pleasure of good health arising from pleasant exercise. In the
same way, he translates a single sentence in his Latin grammar with
great difficulty at first, but when he can translate Cæsar's campaigns
without trouble the task becomes a delight.
Most people think they are entitled to great credit for doing their
Duty, and even to reward. If some one owes you a dollar, is he entitled
to a reward for repaying you? Is he entitled to any special credit? If a
father sees his son drowning and jumps into the water to rescue him, is
he entitled to any special credit, as a matter of right? Duty is
something _due_; therefore, it is a debt. "When ye have done all the
things that are commanded you, say, We are all bondservants; we have
done that which it was our duty to do."
(1) Duty is something owing to ourselves. Character is made up of
duties, and by our character we must stand or fall. We owe it to
ourselves to take the greatest care of our bodies. They should be
cleansed and exercised every day of our lives. Many a man, who would
feel outraged if his favourite horse were not thoroughly groomed and
otherwise cared for daily, neglects his own body, which needs "grooming"
quite as much as that of the horse. We owe it to ourselves to be careful
as to what we eat, and as to the right quantity. If we give a dog too
much meat or a horse too much grain, we know the result. We are not so
careful about ourselves as about our animals.
We owe it to ourselves to be true in all things. "First to thine own
self be true," says the great poet. We owe it to ourselves to be honest
in the very smallest things as well as in the great; to be afraid of
nothing except evil; to be clean in our thoughts and words; to be
modest; to be kind; to be gentle to the weak; to be generous; to be
charitable; to be modest about ourselves; to be temperate.
(2) Duty is something owing to others. We owe our parents a return for
their love and care for us at a time when we should have perished
without it. The return that is due them is that we should be a credit to
them instead of a disgrace, so that the world may say, "Those parents
have reason to be proud of their children." God has said: "Honour thy
father and thy mother." We owe it to them to be diligent in our
lessons, so that we may prepare to earn our own living, and not to be
dependent upon them all our days. A boy may say: "I am not going to
bother my head about this work. My father is rich, and I shall never
have to work unless I like." A few years hence, men will say: "Look at
that idle fellow! He is a disgrace to his parents. He is fit for
nothing; he is going to the bad already."
We owe it to others to owe them nothing. "Owe no man anything." It is
our duty to pay every debt in full, at the earliest moment possible. We
owe it to others to keep as sacred every confidence reposed in us. We
owe it to others to say no evil of them. _De mortuis nil nisi bonum_ was
a proverb of the Romans. It is wiser to speak evil of no one at all.
"He slandereth not with his tongue,
Nor doeth evil to his friend,
Nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour."
(3) Duty is something owing to one's country. The names of the patriots
will be the last to die from men's memories. Every man owes to his
country his name, his influence, his strenuous labour, his liberty, his
life itself, should that be needed. When Nelson, on the day of
Trafalgar, gave to his ships the signal, "England expects every man to
do his duty," he spoke for all nations, in all ages, under all
circumstances. When Pompey's friends tried to dissuade him from setting
sail for Rome in a storm, telling him that he did so at the peril of his
life, he said, "It is necessary for me to go, it is not necessary for me
to live." Perhaps the greatest example of patriotism shown in a love of
Duty of modern times is that of Wellington. His greatness lay in doing
thoroughly every duty that came in his way. For that he would sacrifice
everything else. Late in his life he was content to suffer a temporary
loss of popularity through devotion to what he believed to be a duty. He
was even mobbed in the streets of London, and had his windows smashed
while his wife lay dead in the house. The great motive power that
underlay his whole career was whole-hearted devotion to Duty. He himself
said that Duty was his watchword. "There is little or nothing in this
life worth living for," said he; "but we can all of us go straight
forward and do our duty." Nelson's last words were: "I have done my
duty; I praise God for it."
Some years ago a troop-ship called the _Birkenhead_ was wrecked off the
coast of Africa. The officers and men saw the women and children safely
into the boats, which sufficed for them alone. Those brave soldiers and
sailors fired a salute as the ship went down, and thus cheerfully gave
up their lives to the watery grave. Upon which a great writer said:
"Goodness, Duty, Sacrifice--these are the qualities that England
honours. She knows how to teach her sons to sink like men amidst sharks
and billows, as if Duty were the most natural thing in the world."
(4) Duty is something owing to God. The highest act of duty is to
acknowledge that we owe everything to God, except evil. We owe our lives
to God, for from Him they came. We owe it to God that man is a human
being, and not merely a higher sort of lower animal. God "breathed into
his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living _soul_." We owe
to God all that we have, and especially all happiness that we enjoy. It
is from Him that comes all the love that enters into our lives. He is
the great source of love to the human race. That is why we call Him our
Father; He is the personification of the love of which our earthly
parents' love is an example. We owe to God gratitude for His love to us,
manifested at every step of our lives, and we ought not merely to feel
that gratitude, but also to express it to Him daily. It is our duty,
therefore, to pray.
The highest form of prayer is that God's will may be done in our lives.
If we are sincere in that, and pray it with our hearts, and not merely
with our lips, it will be found sufficient to cover every request that
we can make, because our supreme duty is to do God's will in every act
and desire of life. Arising out of that prayer come the principal duties
of life, viz., thankfulness for God's goodness to us, the fight against
evil in every form, the showing to others by example how God's will may
be done, and, lastly, perfect trust in God in every circumstance of
life.
No. II.
OBEDIENCE
+Obedience is doing promptly and cheerfully what is commanded by those in
authority over us.+
Obedience is the first great law of life. No nation could continue to
exist if its citizens were not law-abiding. The most highly civilized
nations are those whose citizens yield loyal Obedience to the laws, and
strive to make all men obey them. Every society has its rules which the
members agree to obey, and it can only exist so long as that obedience
is observed voluntarily and faithfully. No army could be successful
against the enemy if the soldiers did not obey their officers.
Unquestioning obedience to the commands of the captain is necessary for
the safety of the ship and of the lives of the passengers. Those who are
employed in business must obey the instructions of their employers if
the business is to succeed. The first lesson that a schoolboy is set to
learn is the lesson of Obedience. What happiness could there be in our
homes if the children did not obey their parents?
The greatest part of life is Conduct, and Conduct can only be attained
by practising Obedience. The little child learns it from its mother, the
boy from his father, and from his master at school. The young man must
practise it at college, or at business. The older man continues to obey
some one all through his life. If he wish to govern others, he must
first obey himself. If he will not obey himself, he cannot rule others.
There is only One who is above Obedience--that is God.
At the battle of Balaklava, a small brigade of cavalry was ordered to
attack an immensely strong battery. The order was a mistake, as every
one knew that such an attempt would mean certain death. Yet the officer
commanding the cavalry did not hesitate for a moment to carry out the
orders, though he well knew what the result would be. Not a single
soldier among those six hundred refused to obey.
"Theirs not to reason why;
Theirs but to do and die."
And so the charge was made, and out of the six hundred only one-quarter
returned.
Boys sometimes think it a manly thing to question the orders given them,
and even to assert their independence by refusing to obey. Brave men
think it childish to stop to reason about the commands of those in
authority. The wisest men believe that disobedience is one of the
strongest signs of radically bad character. Experience teaches us that
disobedience will, in time, destroy the character altogether. He that
will not submit to authority must become, in time, not merely a useless,
but a dangerous, member of society.
Obedience, to be worth anything in building up conduct, must be given
_promptly and cheerfully_. Obedience which is tardy, or yielded through
fear, is not right Obedience at all. If a boy's father desires him to do
a piece of work which is not agreeable, or not very easy, there is often
a great temptation to put it off, and do other things first. A boy is
told to cut the grass when he comes home from school. He returns home,
and finds the afternoon warm, and the prospect of grass-cutting
uninviting, and so he first feeds his pigeons; and that reminds him that
he is very anxious to make them some new nest-boxes. The afternoon has
nearly gone when he, at length, drags himself unwillingly to the
lawn-mower; and he has barely finished the work, when he sees his father
coming in at the gate. Perhaps the edges of the grass plot have not been
clipped, as a finish to the work, because he did not begin soon enough.
That is a case of tardy Obedience--not real Obedience. The work was done
because the boy knew he must do it, and not because he loved to obey
his father. Real Obedience is _prompt_ Obedience.
Real Obedience is always cheerfully given. He who grumbles at an order,
and only does it through fear, is not obedient. A boy who will not
cheerfully give up a game, in order to carry out a command from one in
authority, must always be looked upon as one who is at heart
disobedient. If the officers of the cavalry, mentioned above, had chafed
under the order to put their lives in peril, and had sent the messenger
back to find out if they were really to make the attack, they would have
lost their claim to our admiration as truly brave men. If the troopers
had grumbled when the order was given to advance into the valley of
death, and had made the attack in a half-hearted way, they would never
have gained the undying glory that is theirs, and they would probably
have sacrificed the lives of the few who did at last return in safety.
Their Obedience gained them immortal fame because it was prompt and
cheerful.
He who would become a good citizen, and a really useful member of
society, can only do so by practising Obedience, with great patience,
and with all his heart, throughout the whole of his life. To attain
excellence in it, as in many other things, it must be begun very early
in life. Above all, it must be willingly given. Real Obedience is
prompt, cheerful, and from the heart.
No. III.
TRUTHFULNESS
+Truthfulness is speaking and acting in a perfectly straightforward way,
without any attempt to add to, or take from, the facts. Its opposite is
Lying or Deception.+
If Lying were the rule and Truthfulness the exception, society would
soon be destroyed. Men could not do business with each other if they
could not be trusted to speak the truth, and to keep faithfully a
promise once made. Instead of trusting, they would fear one another;
every time they were assured of anything they would doubt, and perhaps
suspect a trap. If all men resorted to lying, they would soon begin to
destroy each other, because it is an instinct of human nature to
preserve one's self from the attack of enemies. The liar is the enemy of
mankind. A great man was once asked: "Do the devils lie?" "No," was his
answer; "for then even hell could no longer exist."
(1) Regard for Truthfulness forbids us to tell, as truth, what we know
to be false. This is the worst form of lying. Only the most hardened
will lie deliberately; no one who has not had long practice in this vice
can tell a deliberate falsehood without despising himself. That can only
be done when the Conscience is at last asleep, and when the character
has become vicious.
(2) Another form of lying is telling, as truth, what we do not know to
be true. People often assert things which they cannot possibly know to
be true; for instance, the motives of other persons. There are also
things which are only probable, and of which we cannot be certain. To
state as absolutely true what we cannot know to be true is falsehood.
Again, there are things which are merely matters of opinion, and upon
which vastly different opinions may be held. If we would be strictly
truthful, we must be careful to state as true only what can be proved to
be facts.
(3) Another form of deceit is telling what may be true in fact, but
telling it in such a way as to convey a false impression. This may be
done by (_a_) exaggerating, or adding to, the facts; or (_b_) by
withholding some important part of the facts. Many a character has been
ruined by some enemy who wilfully overstated, or understated, facts of
the highest importance to the person's reputation. Many a man has ruined
his own character by allowing himself to acquire the habit of
exaggeration.
(4) Untruthfulness shows itself in other ways. A lie may be acted as
well as spoken. For example, when a boy allows himself to be praised for
some action he never performed and does not give the praise to the right
person, or at least disown it for himself, he acts a lie. The boy who
tries to make his master believe him to be obedient and studious when he
is not acts a lie. The boy who brings up as his own work an exercise
which he has cribbed, or in which he has been assisted, acts a lie.
(5) Concealment of the truth may be an unspoken lie. There is an old
Latin motto which says: "The suppression of the truth is the suggestion
of an untruth." By keeping back a necessary part of the truth one may
give a totally wrong impression of the facts, and this is just as much a
lie as absolute misstatement.
(6) Trickery, or underhand dealing of any kind, is a kind of lying. A
London merchant had business with another in a foreign country. The
latter asked the former to send out certain packages of goods marked
less than the real weight, so as to escape the customs duty. "I can't do
it," said the English merchant. "Very well," said the foreigner, "if
you won't, there are plenty of others who will, and I shall take my
business away from you"--which he did, causing the other firm a heavy
loss. A few years afterwards the foreigner wrote to the English
merchant: "Enclosed is a draft for so much, which please put to my
credit. I am sending my son to England to learn your way of business.
There is nobody in whom I have such confidence as I have in you. Will
you take him into your office and make him the same sort of man that you
are yourself?"
(7) Truthfulness lays upon us the most solemn obligation to keep our
promises, no matter how small may be the matter concerned. He who makes
a promise, not intending to keep it, is guilty of gross deception. In
making a promise it is our duty to express our _intention_ in the
plainest terms, and we must then consider ourselves under obligation to
carry out that intention faithfully and fully. When Blücher was
hastening with his army over bad roads to the help of Wellington at the
battle of Waterloo, he encouraged his troops by calling out frequently,
"Forward, children, forward." "It is impossible; it can't be done," was
the answer. Again and again he urged them. "Children, we must get on;
you may say it can't be done, but it must be done! I have promised my
brother Wellington--_promised_, do you hear? You wouldn't have me _break
my word_!"
Lord Chesterfield once said: "It is truth that makes the success of the
gentleman." Those words should be taken to heart by every boy who wishes
to honour truth. Clarendon said of Falkland, one of the noblest and
purest of men, that he "was so severe an adorer of truth that he could
as easily have given himself leave to steal as to dissemble."
Shakespeare said:
"This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow as the night the day
Thou canst not then be false to any man."
No. IV.
COURAGE
+Courage is that disposition which enables us to meet danger or
difficulties firmly and without fear. There are two kinds of Courage:
Physical and Moral; and it has two aspects: Fearlessness and Boldness.+
The opposite of Courage is Cowardice, and no greater insult can be
offered a man than to call him a coward. Courage has always been looked
upon as one of the greatest virtues. Men may be willing to forfeit
purity, truth, and honour, but they cling to Courage to the very end.
Courage is a quality that boys love and respect, because it is a manly
virtue.
Physical Courage appeals most to the young. Nothing so excites their
admiration as a feat of daring. Physical Courage is a splendid thing, a
thing to be prized by every one. As a rule, it is something that every
one may possess a good share of. Physical Courage depends very largely
upon bodily vigour and strength of muscle. It is when we are nervous and
feel our limbs to be weak that our Courage is small. The boy or man who
exercises his muscles regularly is sure to store up a large amount of
physical Courage--enough, at least, to develop its first
stage--Fearlessness.
He who possesses a good constitution and a body whose strength he has
tested by repeated trials is not apt to turn tail at small fears, as are
the weak and delicate. He is able to present to difficulties, or, it may
be, to danger, a steadfast mind and a calm exterior. It is this sort of
Courage which makes the English soldier renowned in war. Had it not been
for the dogged persistence of his soldiers in holding their ground, in
spite of a hurricane of shot and shell, Wellington could never have held
Napoleon at bay at Waterloo. But, while this Fearlessness is much to be
admired, it is, after all, the least heroic form of Courage, because so
much of it is purely physical.
Fighting, as a test of Courage, is greatly overestimated. Experienced
soldiers tell us that it requires a good deal of Courage to go into
battle for the first time. "You look pale," said one officer to another,
as he came within range of the enemy's guns for the first time; "are you
afraid?" "Yes," answered the other; "if you were half as much afraid,
you would turn tail." But, with most soldiers, the feeling of fear soon
wears off, and where there is no fear there is not much trial of
Courage. The physical Courage that we all covet is that which leads a
man to do what others dare not. In 1892, a young clergyman, on a visit
to this country, was crossing the foot-bridge at Niagara Falls. When
about one-third of the way across, he saw a lady stepping up from the
carriage path to the sidewalk. She caught her toe against the edge,
stumbled forward, and fell through the open iron work at the side of the
bridge. She happened to be over the place where the broken rocks line
the edge of the water. In her swift descent, she struck her head against
one of the girders and was stunned; her body then turned over and fell
across another girder. At this moment the clergyman came up. Looking
over, he saw her body swaying gently, and evidently about to drop very
soon to the awful rocks, over two hundred feet below. Without a moment's
hesitation, he sprang out over the edge of the bridge, and, seizing one
of the iron rods that supported the girder, he slid down, and then crept
along the narrow girder till he reached the lady. Bracing himself with
immense difficulty, he kept her from plunging into the abyss until help
arrived, death beckoning to him from below, if he should lose his head
for a single moment. At length a rope was lowered to him, and they were
soon drawn up. That is a splendid example of physical Courage.
A higher type of Courage is that which enables us to endure pain.
Endurance is a rarer quality than dashing Fearlessness. It was said that
in the Franco-Prussian war, in 1870, the French soldiers were more
brilliant in the on-rush than the Prussians, but they lacked endurance,
and could not stand for long before artillery fire. This type of Courage
is best seen in bearing pain. When Epictetus was a slave, his master was
one day beating him. The poor slave said: "If you do not look out, you
will break my leg." Presently the bone snapped. "There," said Epictetus,
as _calmly_ as before, "I told you you would break it." One of the most
remarkable instances of the Courage of endurance is that of the defence
of Cawnpore, in the days of the Indian Mutiny, by a handful of English
troops, with their wives and children. For twenty-one days they endured
untold agonies of exposure by a never-ceasing fire, of hunger, of thirst
(sharp-shooters picking off any one who dared approach the single well
in the camp), of the midsummer sun, of sickness, and of the unutterable
foulness of their surroundings. The soldiers' wives showed even greater
endurance than the men. Women generally have greater courage than men in
the matter of bearing pain.
The highest type of Courage is that which is called Moral Courage, and
is exercised about matters of right and wrong as they affect us
individually. "It is shown by the man who pays his debts, who does
without when he cannot afford, who speaks his mind when necessary, but
who can be silent when it is better not to speak. It requires Moral
Courage to admit that we have been wrong." It requires Moral Courage to
stand being laughed at, although it is the sign of a wise man to be able
to enjoy a laugh at his own expense. It requires Moral Courage to run
the risk of losing one's popularity. Socrates was the greatest teacher
of ancient times, and he was beloved by many of his pupils; but because
his lofty teaching ran beyond the attainments and spirit of his age, he
was condemned to drink the deadly hemlock. He died calmly, even
joyfully, discoursing to his judges of the immortality of the soul.
Galileo was imprisoned when seventy years of age, and, probably,
tortured. He was content to suffer it, and refused to retract what he
had proved to be scientific truth.
When we are laughed at or threatened with persecution of any kind,
Courage bids us stand by our principles.
"As the crackling of thorns under a pot,
So is the laughter of a fool,"
said Solomon. It is the part of wisdom to disregard being laughed at.
When a boy lacks backbone, we say he is easily led, which means, easily
led wrong. How we pity such a boy!
The highest Courage is that which leads men to sacrifice their lives of
their own free will. Such was the courage of the soldiers and sailors of
the _Birkenhead_. In one of the battles of the Peninsular War, a
sergeant named Robert M'Quaide saw two French soldiers aim their muskets
against a very young officer, sixteen years old. M'Quaide pulled him
back behind him, saying: "You are too young, sir, to be killed," and
then fell dead, pierced by both balls.
Courage is a very different thing from Recklessness, or Foolhardiness.
An old proverb says: "Courage is the wisdom of manhood; foolhardiness
the folly of youth." And Carlyle said: "The courage that dares only die
is, on the whole, no sublime affair.... The Courage we desire and prize
is not the courage to die decently, but to live manfully."
No. V.
PURITY
+By Purity we mean that state of mind which is possessed by him who
fights against foul thoughts, drives them away, and who never allows
himself to perform an unclean action, or to use filthy, or obscene,
language.+
Purity involves three things: (1) Clean language, (2) clean thoughts,
(3) clean actions. They are put in this order because it generally
happens among the young that impurity begins with hearing unclean
language, and by imitating it. A little boy hearing others use foul
language soon begins to use it himself, though he may not know its real
meaning. Alas! it does not take long for him to learn the meaning of it
also; and it is but a short step from foul language to impure thoughts
and filthy actions.
Purity is one of the three heroic virtues; the others are Truth and
Courage. In the age of chivalry men valued Purity above all things
except Truth and Courage. Tennyson makes his hero say:
"My good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure;
My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure."
Purity is one of the most manly virtues. Impurity marks the coward and
the sneak, because it is nearly always directed in thought or action
secretly against those weaker than ourselves. In "Tom Brown at Oxford,"
one of Tom Brown's friends says: "I have been taught ever since I could
speak that the crown of all real manliness is Purity." You may ask: "Why
is it manly?" It is manly because it cannot be got without a hard
struggle; the temptation to be impure in thought, if not in language, is
one of the hardest temptations to overcome. A little boy may not feel
it, but the older he grows the harder he has to fight against impurity
in his heart, and in his life.
We must, first of all, guard against unclean language. There are some
words which are merely filthy, without being immoral; both are bad, and
the one leads to the other. Little boys often long to have other words
to put into their language than they have learned at home, because they
think the home language not strong enough or manly enough. In order to
satisfy themselves that they are no longer children, they begin at
school to copy the strong words of the boldest and most reckless of the
boys they meet, and they quickly add to their vocabulary unclean and
even immoral words, because such words seem to be the mark of manliness,
and of personal independence of character. By the time that a boy begins
to realize what such words really mean, he has already formed the habit
of using unclean language, and a bad _habit_ is the hardest thing in the
world to get rid of.
Any one who thinks about the matter for a moment will admit that filthy
language is not only not manly, but that it is degrading to the mind and
character. One of the most manly characters of modern times was
Coleridge Patteson, Bishop of Melanesia, who died in 1874, by the clubs
of savage islanders, who, when he was dead, placed him in a boat with
his hands crossed, and set him adrift upon the Pacific. We are told by
an old schoolmate of his that once, when he was captain of the cricket
eleven at Eton, some boys at the cricket dinner began to sing a coarse
song. "Coley" Patteson had said that he would leave the room if such a
song were sung, and as soon as they began it he quietly got up and went
out. The result of his action was that the bad custom was stopped
entirely. The old poet of Israel sang: "O Lord, keep the door of my
lips." We all need to make that request. Another of the most manly men
of modern times was General Grant, President of the United States. We
are told of him that on one occasion, when a number of gentlemen were
dining together, some one began to tell an indecent story. He commenced
by saying: "I have a first-class story which I may tell, seeing that
there are no ladies present." "No! but there are _gentlemen_ present,"
said General Grant, and the story was not told.
The use of unclean words leads to impure thoughts and to filthy actions.
It is difficult to speak plainly about this matter of personal Purity.
Every boy when he reaches a certain age is tempted by the Devil in the
way of impure thoughts. These are first presented by unclean things
which come into the imagination. If they are not fought against, and
driven out by force of strong will, in a short time the imagination,
naturally one of the purest and most beautiful faculties of the human
mind, will become tainted, and at last foul and degraded. Unclean words
do harm, first, to the individual character, by destroying its early
purity and delicacy, just as we spoil the beauty of a grape by rubbing
off its bloom; and, secondly, to those who hear and may learn to use
them. But unclean thoughts, the evil imaginations, injure the _soul_,
and the _mind_, and the _body_. They injure the soul by making it take
delight in that which is foul and base, and which belongs to the brutes.
They hurt the mind by destroying its power to concentrate itself on
work, or on anything that lies outside of self. They injure the body,
because he who is given up to foul thoughts soon becomes capable of
nothing else. He avoids companions, he desires to be _alone_, that he
may take delight in foul images of the mind, and so the body is
neglected and loses its strength.
There is even a worse stage, when the foul imagination results in
_secret_ acts of filthiness, which eventually will destroy body, mind,
and soul. The poor wretch who has learned such horrible habits may live
on, but not many years can pass until he shall become an idiot, and must
be confined in an asylum, away from his fellow-men. Terrible, indeed, is
the fate of such a person. How significant are the words of the great
Teacher, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God!"
Another great teacher once said that pure religion was: "To visit the
fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself
_unspotted_ from the world."
No. VI.
UNSELFISHNESS
+Unselfishness is the giving up personal gain or advantage. It is the
desire to do the will of another rather than our own. It is making a
sacrifice to please some one else.+
Truth, Purity, and Courage are called the heroic virtues; Unselfishness
is greater than any of them. It is like the Christian virtue of Charity
or Love; it makes people forget their own interests for the sake of
others. Unselfishness is the great lesson we learn from studying the
life of Jesus; He is the great example to the world of absolute
self-forgetfulness. We admire notable examples of this virtue. One of
the members of the Light Brigade tells us that in that terrible charge
he was wounded in the knee, and also in the shin. He could not possibly
get back from the scene of the fight. Another soldier passing by said:
"Get on my back, chum." He did so, and then discovered from the flowing
blood that his rescuer had been shot through the back of the head. When
told of it, he said: "Oh, never mind that; it's not much, I don't
think." But he died of that wound a few days later. The brave fellow
thought not of his own wound, but only how he might help another, though
he belonged to a different squadron and was unknown to him.
Unselfishness is one of the hardest things to learn. A boy may be
naturally brave and even generous, but no one is naturally unselfish. We
are apt to confuse generosity with unselfishness; really they are quite
different. A generous person gives out of his abundance, liberally; an
unselfish person of what seems necessary to his happiness. A generous
boy shares his weekly purchases with his friends; an unselfish boy, out
of pity at some distressful case, gives away all his allowance for that
week, and cheerfully goes without. The selfish boy spends his money upon
himself alone. It is hard to neglect Self.
Even the selfish make sacrifices occasionally. But there is not much
virtue in being unselfish now and then, if, in the meantime, we think of
nothing but gratifying our own desires. Real Unselfishness is a habit,
and needs to be acquired as does any other habit. We have to begin
practising it, and to go on practising it, in the little things of life
as well as the great, for a long time before we are finally able to
forget self and think of others first. It is perhaps impossible to
forget self altogether; but Unselfishness aims to that.
A boy is going down town for some amusement. His sister asks him to take
a parcel for her to the house of a friend, who lives considerably out of
the way. He says he can't be bothered, or that he will miss some of his
fun; he is selfish. Another boy is next at bat, and the "Pro." is going
to bowl. A friend asks him to exchange places on the list, as he has to
meet his father at the train later on, and he is near the foot of the
list. The first boy consents, though he knows he will not get nearly so
good a practice; he is unselfish. The unselfish person is constantly
trying to lighten the burdens of others.
If you wish to tell a thoroughly selfish person, watch his conversation.
He talks constantly of himself, of what he has done, or will do, or can
do. His belongings are better than those of another, merely because they
are his. He loves himself more than any one else; and it is natural to
talk of what we love best. Lord Bacon said: "It is a poor centre of a
man's actions, _himself_. It is right earth." He also said: "The
referring of all to a man's self is a desperate evil in a citizen of a
republic." "Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branches thereof, a
depraved thing. It is the wisdom of rats, that will be sure to leave a
house before it fall. It is the wisdom of the fox, that thrusts out the
badger who digged and made room him. It is the wisdom of crocodiles,
that shed tears when they would devour."
An old proverb says: "Love thyself, and many will hate thee."
Unselfishness is hard to practise, because it brings no reward in this
life. The unselfish man, indeed, is often imposed on by the
self-seeking, and more often still simply because he is unselfish, and
never ceases to think of others. A Christian man in the city of Toronto,
widely known for his charities, subscribed $500 to a deserving object.
The committee in charge of the matter appointed collectors to go about
and ask help from the public. A lady called upon this gentleman, not
knowing that he had already given largely. He was about to tell her of
his first subscription, when he noticed her face fall at the expected
refusal. He immediately took her little book and put down his name for a
second amount. He could not bear to send her empty away. His first
subscription was generosity; his second, Unselfishness. There _is_ a
reward here for Unselfishness--the approval of one's own Conscience,
and, after all, that is of greater permanent value than the praise of
men.
In an age when there is so much grasping after personal gain, it is
refreshing to read of great instances of forgetfulness of self. When the
_Victoria_, after her collision with the _Camperdown_, was found to be
sinking, Admiral Sir George Tryon ordered the sick and the prisoners to
be brought up from below, and then gave the usual order, always the last
to be given on a ship: "All hands for themselves." Not a man broke ranks
until that order was given. Even then the chaplain stayed to help the
sick, and so lost his life. The Admiral himself went down, standing on
the bridge; and, most notable of all, young Lanyon, a junior midshipman,
refused to leave the Admiral's side, though told to jump, and they went
down together.
"He that loseth his life shall find it."
No. VII.
HONESTY
+Honesty is Truth practically applied to questions about the property of
others. It is the principle of dealing with others as we would desire
others to deal with us. The sole guide in fulfilling this obligation is
not what the Law may be, but what our Conscience tells us.+
(1) Honesty is a form of Truthfulness. It is that form of it which is
concerned with our dealings with others, especially as to their
possessions. The opposite of it is called Dishonesty, and the worst form
of Dishonesty is Stealing. The thief is hated, and feared, and despised
more than any other sort of criminal. Men fear him as they do poisonous
snakes; because the thief is a creeping creature, hiding himself and his
actions from the light of day. He watches you until you feel secure, and
are less careful than usual of your possessions; then he sneaks about,
waiting for a favourable moment when no one is near to observe or
suspect him before snatching your property. A man may commit a very
grievous offence against another in a moment of passion; and, though we
acknowledge the justice of his punishment, we do not hate him. But men
hate a thief because he is a sneak, and because his offence is done in
cold blood, not in the heat of anger; in an underhand way, not openly
and above board.
The confirmed thief is one who has yielded his soul to the Devil. He
deliberately sacrifices his character; he surrenders himself of his own
free will to a life of evil. Stealing inevitably leads to lying, and
these two things degrade the character more quickly than any other evils
that touch it. Not only does he destroy the purity of his soul; before
long he must yield up his body for punishment. Not one thief in a
hundred goes long unpunished.
(2) There are other forms of dishonesty not so open as stealing, and, in
some cases, not so harmful, but generally degrading and destructive of
high character. One of these is Cheating. If a coal dealer is paid for a
ton of coal and delivers only nineteen hundred pounds, he is guilty of
stealing. If, however, he gives full weight, but sells the coal as
first-class, when it contains shale or other impurities, and is really
of a cheap grade, then he is cheating. The schoolboy who copies his
night-work from another, or gets help, and then presents the exercise as
his own, is guilty of cheating. This form of cheating is made worse
when it is done in examinations, because the result affects not only
the standing of the person who cheats, but deprives others of fairly won
advantage.
(3) Another form of dishonesty is that by which one person takes
advantage of another in a bargain, through his ignorance or
helplessness, even though nothing is actually misrepresented. For
example, A. asks B. to lend him ten cents for a month. B. knows that A.
is in a tight place, and must have the money; and so he offers it on
condition that A. will pay him twenty cents at the end of the month. B.
is dishonest, because he takes unlawful advantage of A.'s necessity.
(4) There is a kind of cheating not referred to above--that is cheating
in games. Apart from the effect of this kind of cheating upon the
character, the game itself is spoiled. There is a tendency, nowadays, to
play games for the sake of the victory alone, and to take no interest in
games that one cannot win. We should play the game for its own sake, and
frown down all attempts to win it by going just a little outside of what
we know to be the rules. He who allows himself to cheat at games is
forming a habit which will lead him to cheat later on in serious
business.
(5) Another form of dishonesty is that relating to property lost and
found. A boy finds a sum of money in a room, or hall, or playground, or
even on the street. Money is a thing not easily identified, and there
is, therefore, a temptation to pocket it and say nothing about it. This
is dishonest. The duty in such a case is plain, to try to find the
owner, and, if that cannot be done, then to put the money to some useful
or charitable purpose, and not into one's own pocket.
(6) Still another form of dishonesty is that in which one person takes
to himself the praise belonging to another; or allows another to bear
blame belonging to himself. We often see boys letting others suffer, in
one way or another, for what they have done. Nothing can be meaner or
more contemptible. It is not uncommon to see people eager to take the
credit, or praise, or even rewards, which properly belong to others, who
have been thrust aside, or forgotten, for the moment. It is a form of
dishonesty.
Honesty has another side also. When practised according to the voice of
Conscience, without regard to what the law may be, it is the sign of a
noble character. A young man's father fails in business, and dies
suddenly, leaving many debts behind him unpaid. The young man makes a
solemn resolution that he will save and save, and work his hardest, to
pay off those debts, though he did not make them; that is the Honesty of
the truly noble character. A very striking example of this sort of
Honesty is that of Sir Walter Scott, who applied himself, though nearly
sixty years of age, to the enormous task of paying off, by the sale of
his stories, a debt of $600,000, which he did not actually incur, and
from which he could have got free, according to the letter of the law.
But his inflexible Honesty forced him into making an effort which
doubtless shortened his life.
No. VIII.
FAITHFULNESS
+Faithfulness is being true to our word, and to our friends, fulfilling
our obligations, and doing what we see is our duty, at all costs.+
Of the honest man we say: "His word is as good as his bond." Of the
faithful man we say: "He was never known to desert a friend or neglect
an important duty." Faithfulness is one of the strongest evidences of
fine character. The boy who is sent on an errand by his mother, and
resists the temptations of some playmates he meets on the way, to stop
and have a game, is Faithful. Two boys going for a walk in the country
decide to cross a field of ripe grain, and run the risk of being seen by
the farmer in the next field. They are seen and chased. One can run much
faster than the other; in fact, he can escape if he likes to leave the
other. But he doesn't; and both are caught, and have their ears cuffed.
That is an example of the Faithfulness of a friend. As the gentleman's
psalm puts it,
"He sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not";
or, as it is otherwise translated,
"He sweareth to his friend, and changeth not."
In the history of Napoleon we are told that, after his burial at St.
Helena, his household sadly embarked for Europe. One of their number,
however, Sergeant Hubert, refused to abandon even the grave of the
Emperor. For nineteen years he continued at St. Helena, daily guarding
the solitary tomb, and when the remains were at length removed to France
the faithful old servant followed them home. How often we see people
professing the utmost friendship and loyalty to one who has wealth and
influence; but as soon as his money is gone, his faithless friends
depart also. Is not that the case sometimes, even with schoolboys?
We should be faithful in performing obligations. It is said of Thomas
Brassey, who has been called a great captain of industry, and who was
one of the first to undertake great railway contracts, that the reason
of his success lay in the fact that he was faithful in all obligations,
and trusted his men as they trusted him. On one occasion, when he was
building a railway in Spain, a man who had agreed to make a cutting
through a hill found that it turned out to be a rock cutting, though the
price was to be for a sand cutting. If there had not been perfect trust
between the two men, the work would have stopped, and Mr. Brassey would
have lost a large sum through delay. The sub-contractor went steadily on
with the work, and had it almost finished, when Mr. Brassey arrived from
England to inspect the works. When he came to the hill, the
sub-contractor told him what he had done. Some men would have taken
advantage of the sub-contractor; but Mr. Brassey allowed him double the
price agreed upon, and kept a faithful servant by practising
Faithfulness himself.