The man broke into a hearty laughter that sounded liquid above the rush of the train.
“Oh! Oh!” he said, “after what I’ve said of it, it would scarcely be discreet—would it, now? You see, it’s by a colleague.” He seemed to leave the verdict to Quincy.
“Excuse me. I—I didn’t know.”
“You agree, then?” asked the man.
“I certainly do,” replied Quincy with conviction.
“Good!” And this paper also, was thrust back with the others. There was a pause. Then, he continued: “I’ll tell you, however, generally, what it was that I found stupid. It was one of those ‘common-sense’ ideas. They’re usually stupid. This is a paper on education. It talks chiefly of teaching rules.”
“Yes?” asked the boy, awaiting more.
“Well—isn’t that enough? Can you imagine anything more stupid and less educational than teaching rules?”
Quincy beamed with amazement. “You really think that?”
“Have rules ever done you any good,” went on the professor; “any rules except such as you dug out for yourself? What’s a good rule on a false basis? And what’s the use of any rule at all, if the right thing’s underneath? Do you have to teach a rule to a tree to make it grow—or to a ball to make it fall? If we build up from a right basis, the rest—the right rule—must follow by mathematical law. Isn’t that reasonable? And if, with a true foundation, the rules an individual derives clash with the rules accepted,—why the accepted rules are simply wrong. I think, to tell you the truth, that we all teach rules the way the good-hearted practice charity—to overcome with an act what has grown wrong from the bottom up.”